The picnic plans expanded to include Hermione, Ron and Ginny after a morning of hard work in the third floor classroom. They knew the purpose, and had asked if Harry minded them listening in. A visit to the kitchens had laden them with all kinds of delicious foods and juice, and they spread a blanket under a tree near the lake. As they ate, Remus regaled them with tales of his adventures with James and Sirius. He started with short, funny tales of teenage exploits, moving on to stories of juvenile pranks and school detentions. Harry asked about the scene he had seen in Snape’s memory, and Lupin relayed it in full detail in a quiet voice.

“While I am sure that your father would have been embarrassed by his actions, if he were here now looking back on his 15 year old behavior, Harry, you have to remember he WAS only fifteen. Is there nothing you look back on from your first years at Hogwarts that you don’t think, well that was dumb?”

All of them nodded.

“We were very unlikely mates, actually.” Remus went on. “Both Sirius and James were from pure-blood, old money wizarding families that were treated almost like royalty. James was a much-loved only son, and had strong family ties. Sirius was, well, he told you about his family, Harry, and you all have seen the Black family home. Sirius was never good enough for either of his parents and was embarrassed by their pureblood fervor and dark arts preferences. Then there was Pettigrew, who might have been pure-blood, but never was in the same league as the Blacks or the Potters, with minimal powers and none of the good-looks of the other two.”

Remus paused, a frown creasing his brow as if he was thinking about what Peter had done to his friends. “And then there was me.” He laughed. “Like most modern wizarding families, there is muggle blood in mine, and of course, there was my other affliction. Sirius and James could not have cared less about my parentage or lack of the kind of money they had. We had a kinship that transcended blood ties, and the 3 of us at least, would have died for each other.” He looked up at his listeners. “Rather like the friendship you lot have.”

The teenagers looked at each other and nodded. They didn’t need the words, they knew.

“Then there was Lily. Warm, vivacious, and what a temper! She had the ability to pin you to your seat with a piercing glare when she was mad. If looks could kill, there were days that Sirius and James would have died over and over.”

“And of course, I am reminded of my friends every day.” Remus reached out and cupped Harry’s chin and lifted, so that their eyes met. “I know you are probably tired of hearing it, Harry, but you so look like James, and Lily’s eyes sparkle at me from yours.”

Harry smiled sadly. “No, really, I never tire of it, Remus, as that is pretty much all I have left of them.”

“Lily would have been delighted with the way you are, Harry, as that was the kind of person she was. She was very kind to everyone, very smart, and so pretty. Even to Snape, who wasn’t very nice to her, usually. She helped everyone in our year study, not just us Gryffindors either, but anyone who needed it.” Remus smiled at Hermione. “You remind me very much of Lily, Hermione, smart, clever, tenderhearted, and pretty.” Hermione went pink with pleasure. “And she was very pretty, Harry! I think we were all a bit in love with your mum in those days, but James tumbled really hard.” Remus chuckled. “Although at first, it seemed they argued more than anything. James was a bit, uh, bigheaded, given his ability at Quidditch and all, and Lily never let him forget it! It wasn’t until the start of our last year, when they were Head Boy and Girl that she agreed to go out with him.”

“Sirius and I had to plot really, to get James to take that last step. We dared him to kiss Lily under the mistletoe, Christmas of our 6th year, even though he was sure she’d slap him. Well, Lily didn’t slap him and started to look at him in a whole different way after that. I’m not sure whether James ever knew what hit him, but they were pretty much inseparable our last year. Seems like just yesterday, really.”

Remus fell silent, a look of sad reflection flitting across his face. The others picked up the conversation and turned it to a lively discussion of the prospects of the Gryffindor Quidditch team for the coming year. Remus listened to them in silence, his eyes on Harry more often then not.

Harry laid back, his head cushioned on his hands, and closed his eyes, the conversation flowing around him. Warm and comfortable, he smoothed the walls in his mind, strengthen his defenses, and turned his thoughts to his dad, mum and their best friend.

“Hello, Harry.”

“Hi, Sirius.”

“How are you? What has happened?”

Harry told Sirius all that had happened since they had arrived back at Hogwarts after the Apparition test, up to the vision he’d had the night before, and the scene in the Entrance Hall with Snape. “It was really weird, Sirius, to be able to page through someone’s memories like that.”

Sirius’ voice held amusement. “I bet it surprised ol’ Snape a bit, didn’t it! “

“Yup, sure seemed to,” Harry answered with a grin. “But it was kind of scary, too, just to be able to do that.”

“You have not yet realized your own abilities, Harry.” Sirius had taken a serious tone. “If you didn’t possess the powers you do, you would not be able to communicate with me. I am not surprised, but it does mean that you need to learn to focus and control the power that you have, Harry.”

“I’m trying, Sirius, I really am. Remus is helping to teach me Legilimency and Dumbledore is giving me Occlumency lessons. We are also learning advanced Defense stuff, too.”

“Good, Harry, good, Ron and Hermione, too?”

“Yes, and Ginny, because she is with us so often. Remus says that the returning DA members will get to take an advanced Defense against the Dark Arts class too, as we learned so much on our own last term.”

“Very good, and Remus is holding up well?”

“Oh, yeah, he looks tons better too, as he’s drinking the Wolfsbane potion regularly now. Hermione is going to take over brewing it too, so that we know how and never have to worry about it again.”

“Snape complaining?”

“No, we just…feel better doing it ourselves.”

“Alright, but remember Harry, Dumbledore trusts Snape, and you need to respect that, okay.”

“Okay. Sirius? What’s it like, over there?”

Sirius was quiet for a while. “I can’t even tell you, or describe it, Harry, but I only ‘exist’ when I talk to you.”

“I don’t…”

“Harry.” Remus’ voice drew Harry back to awareness. “Harry?”

Harry sat up to find that everyone was looking at him. “What?”

“It is time to go in, Harry, but we had trouble waking you up.”

Harry smiled at them and stood. “Sorry, I was dreaming about Sirius.” He caught the look that his guardian shot at him, and nodded slightly. He knew he would be talking to the Headmaster before dinner, relaying his conversation with Sirius.

The expected conversation took place after dinner and in the privacy of Dumbledore’s office. Remus joined them, but stayed in the background as Harry relayed his conversation with Sirius. Dumbledore listened silently, and then got up and moved to the black cabinet along the wall near Fawkes perch. He removed the Pensieve and placed it on his desk.

“Harry, I should like you to come over here and sit at my desk, as I think it is time for you to learn to use the Pensieve. Not so much for these conversations with Sirius, which I am not sure will take, but I would like you to remember the dreams you have had of Voldemort. From the most recent one of the other night, as far back as you can clearly remember, but especially the ones that involved Arthur Weasley and the one Voldemort fabricated about Sirius.”

Harry sat as he was directed and listen intently as Professor Dumbledore instructed him on how to use his wand to pluck the memories from his mind. It was certainly harder than it had looked when Harry had watched Dumbledore and Snape do it. After several intense hours, Harry was finally able to put the tip of his wand to his temple and draw out a silvery, gossamer fiber, and drop it into the stone basin. A grin of satisfaction split his tired face, before he concentrated again on the task.

Remus Lupin looked on with concern, as Harry carefully drew strand after strand out and dropped it in to the basin. Harry knew he was just trying to watch out for him, but he needed to do as Dumbledore asked. Sitting back and closing his eyes, Harry shifted through memories, until he came across the memory that was one of the most painful of his life. He isolated the dream he had during his History of Magic O.W.L. exam that past June. The dream that set into motion the events that led to the death of his godfather. Unbeknownst to Harry, tears flowed down his face as he withdrew the silvery thread, and opened his eyes to watch it fall into the Pensieve. Brushing an impatient hand across his face, Harry closed his eyes again and found the memory of the dream in which Mr. Weasley was injured, and dropped that in the basin as well.

“Alright, Harry, that will do for now.” Albus Dumbledore laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Now, stir it with your wand and let’s see what we can determine.”

The three of them stared into the Pensieve as dreams played across the surface. Several of the visions that Harry had had before dream of Mr. Weasley played, so dark and blurry at the edges that they seemed like dream sequences. Then the dream of Sirius began, and Harry blinked fiercely.

“Ahhhh, look here and here, Harry.” Dumbledore pointed to the sharp edges of this dream. “This is how we can tell a real dream, where you are truly seeing unwitting images from Voldemort, as opposed to a dream deliberately planted in your mind.” The Headmaster laid his hand on Harry’s arm. “This is what I was hoping to find, this way to tell the difference between the dreams you have had. I believe that we would find a number of the dreams you had last spring were actually planted, trying to lure you to the Ministry of Magic, in order to draw you to the Prophecy.”

Harry nodded, elated but feeling exhausted, his scar prickling uncomfortably. He winced, and rubbed it absently with the back of his wand hand.

“Scar hurt, Harry?” Remus asked him quietly.

“Yeah, just a twinge.” Harry answered. “It happens a lot more these days.”

Dumbledore surveyed Harry’s tired face over his half-moon glasses. “Alright, Harry, I think we’ve done enough for tonight. Let me show you how to retrieve these, and we’ll go to bed.”

Harry retrieved his thoughts from the Pensieve and stood to leave. His head achy and throbbing, his scar continued to prickle. He stopped halfway across the room and turned back to look at Professor Dumbledore.

“I’m not sure any of us should go to bed.” Harry gave a crooked grin. “The way my head is feeling, I think something is going to happen.”

Dumbledore smiled. “I can imagine that is a bothersome feeling, Harry, as if they are plotting to interrupt our sleep. I dare say, we’ll go ahead and try, though, alright?”