Happy birthday to the one and only Padfoot there is ♡ I love my drama king!

Vote and comment, please. if not for me, then for my favorite character-- now that's something big, youhou!

Just whatever you do, do not think of Sirius singing happy birthday to himself in Azkaban 1981 after his dreadful loss of Halloween, with tears streaming down his face, silently begging for time to reverse for just a few days back.

I said, DO NOT! Oh boy, why can't I follow my own advice? Anyway...

The green jet of light evaporated into a mist of air, finishing the job it was appointed to, and that's enveloping the small form of Umbridge which lost control and fell heads-down to the hard ground.

The previously outraged twins couldn't help but feel twisted at the fate she had met, with some satisfaction tingling through them for watching the horror filling up her eyes in the moments before they'd been forced shut, once and for all.

After doing their bidding, Fred and George glanced at one another, a smirk drawn on their identical faces.

"Nice one, Freddie," muttered George, his wand still in hand, breathing heavily.

"Nice one?" An indignant voice came from behind, to which the twins spun around to find the stunned look on Harry's eyes. "What have you done?"

"Oh just a spice of revenge," replied Fred, his gaze indifferent and his voice stiff that Harry judged as cold.

Harry couldn't believe it, truth be told, he didn't want to. The twins --whom he believed to be the purest of all he had met-- turned out to be fueled with such cruelty to end a life so easily without a glimpse of remorse.

"This isn't like you--" Harry stammered, his voice shocked, "it can't be."

"I don't see what's the big deal! Harry, it's not like you suddenly care for her now," said George, his menacing glare fixed on Umbridge's motionless body.

Harry didn't budge his eyes from how still and peaceful she seemed in her now long and forced sleep.

Though Harry so easily admitted the hatred he always held for her, he still didn't enjoy the prospect of having her life terminated altogether.

"We did what you were so terrified to even think of doing, mate," said Fred, sighing.

"You guys would never do this, n-not even to her, no matter what," replied Harry, feeling betrayed.

"C'mon, you're interrupting our plan, Harryboy, now if you could just excuse us..." said Fred in a slightly impatient and amused tone.

"Plan? You mean to tell me that-- even Sirius knows what you've done?" Harry asked in desperation, his wide eyes pleading 'you better say no, please.'

"Of course, well as a matter of fact, it was his idea," replied George at once, as if it was the red card that would get them out of this relentless interrogation.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat by a force of shock, but still willing to argue that Sirius would never let this come to action, no matter how enraged he was at the moment.

"No, absolutely not," stammered Harry, his lips barely moving, his heart crushed into tons of fragile fragments.

Harry feared what would become of him if he believed that his godfather wasn't the right man to be worthy of his unconditional trust.

"It was three against one, really, that is before we managed to convince Remus that it was justified," said Fred, clearing his throat, a prideful grin etched on his face. "And-- ha!-- he relented."

Harry wanted to latch out at them that murder was never justified, but he was left tongue-tied, shocked into silence.

***
To Harry, apparently him alone, things worth dying for --for the sake of the people he loved-- always outweighed what's worth killing for.

But here he was, hit by the painful truth.

Even Sirius now proved to be not as selfless as he always claimed to be, neither was Remus the just one who would give out considerate kindness even in exchange of being hurt.

Harry still couldn't allow his mental paintbrush to bend and reshape them as evil.

They are not who you hoped they would be, Harry felt a squashed part of his mind scream in uproar... losing trust in those he was desperate to call family.

Fear filled him up that today might be the day he would witness the brightening stars he'd drawn by himself, falling from his mentally navigating sky, leaving him lost without a destination to follow.

Just then, Harry caught sight of a figure coming closer to their small circle, the very same man he would have been pleased and relieved to see, but now-- no, his feelings were quite the contrary.

"Boys, what are you still doing here?" Sirius asked, not waiting for an answer. "You should be..." the words died in his throat from the heart-broken glare of disappointment Harry gave him.

"Uh, Harry," began Sirius, placing a hand on his shoulder out of instinct that Harry shoved off at once, to which Sirius felt his heart drop to the roots of the ground. "What's the matter?" He asked his godson, fearing the worse, closing his eyes in a blink to hide how hurt he felt.

"Tell me, my beloved godfather, how far would you go for me?" Harry spoke in a sarcastic, almost cruel, air. Sirius was taken aback and slightly amused, chuckling wearily. "Answer me... now."

"To Hell and back," replied Sirius genuinely.

Harry scoffed, pursing his lips. "I don't believe you." He then dropped his cold gaze downward, frowning.

"I don't trust you either," said Harry practically in a mere whisper that if it weren't for Sirius' heightened sense of hearing, it would have gone unnoticed and indestructible. "Not anymore."

Harry felt like being hit with a dagger to the chest at the prospect, but little did he know that Sirius was bleeding from the same hidden wound-- all from the deadly arrows of his thoughts forming into words.

The shocked frown of torture that instantly flickered across his godfather's face told Harry that the message was successfully received... something Harry wasn't quite sure whether to be proud of or not.

***
"Helloo!" Fred interrupted out of the blue, being oblivious to the silent soul-death taking place inside of one Sirius Black.

"Could we just get on with our plan, please, before she bloody wakes up!" George spoke in suggestive exclamation, waving his hand at his former professor.

"Oh really-- haven't anyone told you that the dead can never wake up?!" Harry broke in, his anger and frustration finally taking shape, to which Sirius smiled sadly at the irony.

"Dead, is that the best you could come up with?" Fred asked sarcastically, being the least of the three taken off-guard. "We still have far better use of her alive."

"Not to mention, mum would certainly kill us with her bare hands, if she ever knew we used the vodo-kedavo," commented George.

"Ah please, don't you play tricks on me," Harry carried on, feeling irritated.

"Please tell me you're not that stupid," cut in Fred, a smirk crossing then vanishing from his face in a mere second.

"You guys killed her! And Sirius-- you... it was your idea," said Harry, powerful at first, but something inside him still couldn't hold the accusation on his godfather.

I--I did not. Sirius replied in his mind, his lips silent not bearing to utter a word, and by extension his heart screamed in agony.

"Alright, now it's proven: he's mad," said George, with a huff and a slight roll of his eyes.

***
"When you're willing to take lives for your own petty interests, and that includes revenge, well--" Harry hesitated, looking away, seemingly struggling with himself. Well... that's hardly someone I can trust, he continued the line in his mind, not daring to spit it out one more time for how much damage it would further inflict.

In spite of himself, Sirius laughed nervously, shaking his head in apparent denial.

Harry took Sirius' silence as a proof of guilt. "I very well know how blind you could get, when you're mad, Sirius."

Sirius was accustomed to being held wrongly accountable for atrocities he had no hand in-- he had the bump of years in Azkaban to prove it-- but now having yet another false accusation added on his shoulder from Harry, of all people, broke his heart more than the deadliest of curses ever could.

The intensity of the wrenching distress in Harry's expression made Sirius find his voice again.

"Murder blackens the soul, Harry," said Sirius dramatically, biting on his lower lip to stop the slight tremble of his jaw. "It's among the heaviest of weights one could ever carry-- to be held forever."

Harry said nothing, looking into Sirius' eyes, searching for the answer he was still desperate to believe... that his godfather was truly what he wanted and needed him to be.

"Let's get to the bottom of it, huh. Would you take me at my word if I told you that I would never make the twins do what you think they did?" Sirius asked, fighting against the lump in his throat, a muscle along the edge of his jaw twitching.

A small but powerful part inside Sirius was beyond desperate that the mountain of trust he kept on nurturing for so long still had steady grounds to be held towering upon.

But then again, he had already heard Harry say the four words of "I don't trust you," which were capable of letting every shred of him fall apart in a crumbling moment... yet still, Sirius was willing to consider his own ears a hateful liar.

Ask him to rule on his trust for you, only when you've earned the right-- not now and probably not ever. An intrusive voice broke through Sirius' willpower and led his hope into destruction.

Fred and George both frowned, glancing at one another in bewilderment. Harry and Sirius, on the other hand, fixed their gazes on each other, their heart rates picking up.

For as long as he could remember, Harry did trust his godfather-- that was never an arguable feat-- but in spite of his better judgment, he was still afraid of being blind-folded and misled by a trust built far from its rightful place.

"Prove it," said Harry lowly, no longer looking at Sirius in the eyes.

As a dreadful reaction, Sirius' face fell, and he forced his eyes shut just for a moment, with a slight shake of his head.

"So you won't-- don't trust me enough," said Sirius quietly, letting out a crushed smile that had nothing to do with happiness. "I knew it."

Harry, in exchange, looked up at his godfather, pretty conflicted that he opened his mouth with no words coming out. He didn't want to think of what he would have to do or say if his pounding heart was right and Sirius was innocent from what he thought of him.

***
"Fine," continued Sirius in a hoarse voice, sniffing and sighing. With a heavy heart, he then glanced at Fred to give Harry the proof he asked for. "Fill him in."

"Right so," began Fred, inhaling a deep breath. "That green light is not by any means the killing curse. It was just a prank that Sirius came up with, where I'd use a spell to knock her down while George would illuminate that specific color from his wand to come her way --only to make her think she was on the receiving end of death."

"But apparently," George cut in, "this part got a teensy bit out of hand with a certain Potterie strutting around the castle, causing a whole lot of unnecessary trouble."

With every word reaching his system, Harry didn't know what to do with himself, might as well vanish from the ground. Put simply, he was shell-shocked and ashamed, owing them all a grave and sincere apology.

"Oh," was all Harry had to say.

"Well, let's just imagine that was an apology," said George, rolling his eyes with a slight groan and a grin crossing his face.

"On half a knee even, with puppy-dog eyes," said Fred, a thoughtful look playing on his face. "If he won't really do it, then nothing wrong with imagination, ey."

"Right, sorry guys," said Harry, his guilt-ridden thoughts tucked into the back of his mind at their carefree and slightly dismissive reaction.

"Glad to hear you say it, Potterie," said George, his smile radiant, playfully slamming Harry's shoulder. "Well then, back to business, we need to get the not-so-dead Umbridge ready for part three of our plan, if you don't mind."

"Kinda surprised she was kept under her ugly sleep through that talk battle," muttered Fred, grimacing as he supported her limp body with George all the way to the entrance of the Great Hall.

***
It was then that Harry shifted his attention back to his godfather, his emerald eyes sending a silent apology that the latter grey ones didn't react to.

Harry sighed, clearing his throat, feeling unnerved by the silence that had fallen between them... much like the trust they once bore for each other.

"I am sorry," began Harry, willing to do absolutely anything to get an end to the distressed look of hurt in Sirius' eyes. "I really am."

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Sirius cut him off, sucking in a deep breath. "Enough."

"Please, just--" Harry held Sirius' arm, pausing him from leaving. "Wait."

"Later," said Sirius curtly, forcing a smile. "I have to go."

"No, c'mon, don't leave like this." Harry's desperate voice stopped Sirius in his tracks. "I just want you to be certain that-- I hold a great deal of trust for you."

Giving Harry his back, Sirius screwed his eyes shut. The words could have left Sirius elated, if they weren't just proven wrong by his godson's reaction... evidently losing their meaning.

Losing trust in his godfather now felt like catching sight of a green sky with fallen stars, an occurrence utterly impossible and out of reach.

I don't believe you. Sirius felt the urge to use the very same words he'd just heard from Harry to express his feelings, but for once, he couldn't act on impulse.

Sirius decided against hurting his godson the same way he had been hurt, he just couldn't.

Without uttering a single word or even glancing back, Sirius moved further away, leaving a let-down Harry angry with himself.

*************
Under cover, Fred and George had cast permanent vanishing spells across the wall from all angles. Thanks to several wand circulations, the hallway to the Great Hall was free from all of the ministry decrees that were enforced for so long by the abuse of power in the hands of that deranged pink toad.

"You should have seen that, pinkie, your hard-work evaporating like it never even existed," said George, the smirk he wore evident in his low voice, glancing down at Umbridge's motionless body, her weight loosely hung by their firm hold on her.

As if on cue, Umbridge shifted uncomfortably, watering her lips, her firmly shut eyes opening a fraction with a quiet moan.

"Watch this, hey you, wake up," said Fred, lightly slapping Umbridge with the flat of his hand, as to not have her fall into the bliss of unconsciousness once again, to which she woke up with a start rolling her eyes inward.

"Good riddance, I am too young for back pains," muttered George, releasing himself from her weight, standing upright.

"Even better!" Fred exclaimed, his wand drawing various pictures of Umbridge's face etched on the bodies of pink toads to be hung on the walls-- conquering the place of her old decrees.

George carried on with his brother's lead and constructed pictures of Umbridge's pink clothes on the body and face of green toads, as a further symbol of public humiliation.

"Woah," a small voice came from behind, "that's a dream come true." Adjusting his green tie, the young boy was awestruck and relieved, his voice holding more intensity than the hissing of a real-life serpent.

"Oh, you seem to have made yourself many haters, to now become our admirers," said George, a bright grin alive on his face, waving at the boy with enthusiasm. "Well, that's where I'll thank you."

"That's unacceptable and preposterous-- you can't be doing this to me," stammered Umbridge, her chest pounding in a speedy manner and her eyes darting back and forth, fearful of further disgrace.

"Actually, we can," Fred shot back, feeling amused and determined. "And we haven't even started."

To say that Umbridge was infuriated would be the understatement of the century, in dire need of rephrasing.

They'll pay... dreadfully.

"I'll make you regret the moment you thought of paying me a visit and... doing all this," said Umbridge, shaking and her eyes spitting with rage and cruelty, but the panic was still hidden in between. "Absolutely unforgivable."

"Ooh, aren't we quivering with fear?!" Fred spoke in a mocking voice.

"You better head straight to your minister and weep at his door," said George, knowing better than anyone that Fudge couldn't answer her most desperate pleas now.

"That's right, run along now," commented Fred, waving his hand at her. "Shoo!"

It took Umbridge a moment to come back to her senses and indeed run for her life. In attempt to restore her dignity, she made her way back to her office-- to the only unintercepted floo network available in this castle.

"Right into the trap!" With a hop from the ground, Fred and George high-fived each other in the air.

*******
Meanwhile, a certain kind-hearted werewolf was doing his part as if his life depended on it.

"Should I repeat everything all over again?" Remus asked the headmaster in irritation, feeling burned out as though his cage had been rattled. "Sir," he carried on with a demonstration of more respect.

"No need, Remus," replied Dumbledore, his voice low in pitch and his eyes coming into more focus. "If you mean to prove that Harry has been abused under the roof of my school, he will be taken care of, I assure you."

"Not just that-- we'll look into it ourselves," replied Remus, heaving a deep sigh. "But now that you are well-informed, I demand that Umbridge is dealt with, in consistence with the severity of not only her cruel intentions but also her tormenting actions."

"You do know that she was appointed by a high power that wanted nothing more than to overthrow me," said Dumbledore, his gaze cast downward, shaking his head in helplessness. "Even if I knew-- my hands had been tied."

"I am aware," replied Remus, an understanding expression flashing across his face, trying to keep the emotions released from his voice at bay. "Though it shouldn't have been Harry or any of the students, the ones forced to pay the price for the politically departed ways."

Remus did respect Dumbledore's choices, as they were always justified one way or another, but the roots of concern he had for Harry were much deeper and way stronger than anything and everything.

"It was never my intention to smile on abuse," said Dumbledore gravely, a twinge of sadness tingling through him. "I never wanted to turn a blind-eye to--"

"Forgive my bluntness, sir, but that's exactly what you did," said Remus, in spite of himself, regretting it at once when Dumbledore instantly looked older than he had ever been. "I am sorry."

"You have to believe that I'll fix the wrongs I've done-- one by one." Dumbledore spoke in a forced calm voice, yet a twinkle of determination shone in his bright eyes.

"That's all I want now," stated Remus with a sigh, a small smile drawn on his lips.

"And the matter on hand is apparently the first step," said Dumbledore, adding a new parchment to the growing pile on his desk while reaching for the ink. "I'll do it my way, to discredit her before I publicly take everything she has."

"Thanks, but would you just let me assist you-- please?" Remus asked heartily, his voice trembling with the echo of hope.

Remus was desperate to do what he knew in his heart was right for James' son, Harry... even if for once, just once. He wanted to feel useful in Harry's life, holding any meaning at all, with an increasing positive influence on him.

Remus blinked to catch sight of Dumbledore nodding and wearing a smile on his elderly face. "I could use your help, Remus, of course."

The marauder breathed in relief, feeling more excited than he had been in over a decade. He was willing to take every chance possible to change the way Harry truly perceived him from unworthy to valuable...

For maybe only then, his storm-like existence could turn into a peaceful light-blue sky.

************
Meanwhile, Sirius Black made sure not to bump into anyone, his fingertips holding onto the invisibility cloak covering him up-- just like he had done countless of times before and missed doing in years now. Back then, he had his friends with and around him, but now, he was alone.

A small part of him was soothed by the desperate and equally far-fetched feeling that James was probably cheering him on, from a million miles up into the moonlit sky. He let himself believe that maybe one day, James would even thank him for being there for Harry.

Shaking his head profusely, Sirius urged himself that he was doing, all of this, everything for his godson-- even if Harry didn't appreciate him enough for the matter, Sirius would still do it anyway.

Even having bled to death from Harry's fragile trust in him that broke from the slightest shake, would never stop Sirius from doing what's right for his godson's wellbeing-- disregarding how defeated he felt.

Burdened by the weight of unspoken thoughts, with a long day heavy on his shoulders, Sirius strode off to the room he was navigating his way for.

He shut the door behind him and sighed with his eyes closed, stripping the cloak off. He was greeted though by the last person he expected to see here in Umbridge's overly colorful office.

Imagine this greenie pinkie hung by the Great Hall for everyone to see!

I wanted this to be a light ending to the necessary Sirius drama inflicted on the chapter.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading, lovelies =)

Time for giving credit when it's due. The illuminating green curse wasn't initially my idea but that of @jakers965 so if you are still here, which I hope you are, thank you. I added tons of drama to your prank ;)

Now for the regular reminder, VOTE and COMMENT please, it brightens my day.

Also, what do you like and/or dislike most about the fifth book, Order of the Phoenix??

Until next time, hopefully soon!