Wings And Whispers

Prologue

     The men living in the small apartment known as Number 12, Grimmauld Place would be very proud to say that they were, in fact, anything but normal. In fact, given the opportunity, they would even try to prove it to you. Well, at least Sirius Black would. His childhood friend, on the other hand, Remus Lupin, couldn't really care less what you think of him. At the moment it was the beginning of June and they were setting up the table for lunch, awaiting the arrival of their (Sirius') godson, Harry Potter. Harry was collecting his school supplies from Diagon Alley for his makeup year at Hogwarts that the new Headmistress McGonnagal was requiring the used-to-be seventh years to take.

     They heard a knock upon the front door. Knowing that it must be Harry, seeing as muggles couldn't see their house and they weren't expecting anyone else, they raced to get to the door, bumping into each other and the walls along the way. They reached the entryway and opened the door with wild grins on their faces.

"Hello, Harry!" They greeted him simultaneously. The boy with emerald green eyes looked up to his godfather's kind, dark grey ones with a familiar soft smile on his face.

"Hello Sirius, Remus, I hope I'm not too late for lunch," they shuffled to the side to let him walk inside with his trunk and owl in tow.

"You're just in time Harry. I've set up Regulus' old room for you to have for as long as you need it. Here, let me have your bag," Remus picked up Harry's large leather trunk and took it to the bedroom in the back. Hedwig gave an annoyed hoot as her cage was placed on the ground. Sirius pulled his godson into a bone-crushing hug, glad that he finally had his little Prongs Jr. home.

     After finally finishing helping set up Harry in his new room everyone gathered around the table and hade a joyous meal together like a family.

~*~

     Harry's eighteenth birthday the next day so Sirius decided to throw him a little party before school started back up.

      The sporadic lights illuminated their guests' faces as they chatted and danced the night away avoiding harsh topics like those involving the war, and the twins' new prank items alike. It was nearing midnight and all nine Weasly's, Hermione Granger, and the party's hosts gathered around the excited birthday boy. No matter how hard you tried it would be damn near impossible to wipe the wide grin off of Harry's face. He was elated. The happiness of being somewhere he was truly loved coursed through his veins and was as refreshing as a glass of water after a marathon. After a few minutes, a joyful countdown started as midnight rushed closer.        

              9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...       

     Harry abruptly fell down to his knees with a strangled cry, clutching his chest and trying to claw at his back. His expression was torn in agony.

"What's...h-hap-p-pening...to...me?" He barely managed the question in a whisper before collapsing completely and losing consciousness. Sirius and Remus shared a knowingly solemn look before hurriedly taking the boy to his bedroom and casting a pain-reducing charm on him. His strained green eyes filled to the brim with painful tears even when squeezed tight in unconsciousness.

      When he finally woke up and was able to crack open his eyes he could make out a slight blurry outline of scraggly black hair.  He could guess it was daytime from the blinding glare emanating from outside of the window to his left. He blindly searched for a moment before equipping his glasses then, remembering the previous event, shot straight up looking questionably at his godfather before noticing the way his body was so sore as if he'd had the muggle flu, and the added weight between his shoulder blades. He turned his head, straining his neck and eyes trying to glance at the mysterious objects. Gasping he reached back to lightly touch a singled out white feather, in the ocean of black and white taking residence on his back. 'Bloody hell, why in Merlin's name do I have bloody wings?!'  He snapped his head back to look startled at Sirius. The man looked Harry straight the eye before smiling softly, yet nervously, "Harry, you're a Faelor."