A/N: This was written for the Houses Competition, Year Four, Round One! Slytherin House, Year: Head Boy, Standard, Prompt: [Event] Meeting long-lost family member. Word count: 1002
Harry Potter had been working in the Department of Mysteries for the longest time, with only one goal in mind.
It was a single-minded focus that many would call an obsession, consuming much of his time and thoughts in ways that kept him up at night.
For Harry had been working on the Veil for three and a half years, trying to find a way to bring Sirius back. He had committed countless sacrifices, tried working with runes, bargained, pleaded, mourned and grieved, gone back to the runes, and everything else he could think of, all in hopes of activating the Veil and bringing Sirius back.
It was practically his full-time job, because Hermione had begun funding him when she saw what breakthroughs he'd made with runework, touting his strange ability in understanding the runes intrinsically. Nobody had dared go against her, and as such, Harry was paid for messing about with the Veil.
Lately, Harry had been focusing his efforts onto rituals, dubious types of magic that maybe weren't strictly legal. Summoning rituals, banishing rituals, reanimation rituals, every type he could think of that would possibly bring back a body or at least move it to this plane of existence.
"Okay, where did we go wrong last time?" He muttered to himself, pacing slowly back and forth, back hunched over. He began to sound out his latest attempt, looking for the flawed needle buried in the haystack.
"The runes activated, and connected...they had started to work, there was activity from the Veil... I've sent in enough blood sacrifices to rebuild the bodies of a dozen people, so that can't be it... I've definitely got will and intent, god help me. So, what else is left?"
Harry turned to stare at the veil, which fluttered lightly in a nonexistent breeze, as if mocking him. He knew he was close to an answer, tantalizingly so, but yet it remained out of reach, as if a part of Harry's brain, the part with the answer, was cordoned off.
He sat down heavily on the ground, head in his hands, still focused on the Veil.
"What if I said his name three times, like the old Bloody Mary legend? Think that'd work?" Harry laughed softly to himself at the incredulity of his statement. If that was possible, he'd have had Sirius back long ago. Right?
Nevertheless, it was something he hadn't yet tried, and was therefore worth a shot.
Harry reactivated the runes, painting them on the floor with sacrificed blood (willingly given, thank god) slowly and methodically. He was going to take his time and get it right. He couldn't afford any mistakes. He began chanting Sirius's name under his breath, speaking it lowly over and over, whispering it perfectly.
But nothing happened. Harry felt a wave of despair sweep over him, the harsh reality of yet another failure something he was still not used to. He turned away to begin clearing up his supplies...it had been forty hours since he last slept, and this was his last attempt before Hermione was going to inevitably drag him out of the chamber and force healthy habits onto him.
Exactly one minute later, Sirius fell out the other side of the Veil with an undignified 'plop.'
Harry stopped what he was doing and turned to face him, dropping the vials that he was holding in surprise.
Holy shit. A small part of Harry mused. I can't believe that after three and a half years, this was the shit that succeeded.
Ignoring his other thoughts, though, Harry rushed over to Sirius, who was collapsed facedown onto the hard stone floor, which couldn't be good for the state of his nose.
"Sirius." He shook the older man's shoulder, hard. "Sirius!"
The older man groaned, proving he was alive, and tried to push himself up, though by the looks of it he was extraordinarily weak. His arms gave out from underneath him and he dropped back down to the floor, thankfully not hitting his head as heavily as he had before.
"Holy f- what the-" Harry couldn't even get his words out right. "Sirius!" He said again, rather lamely.
The man rolled over with great effort, flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling with blank eyes. "That's my name, cub, don't wear it out."
"It's really you. I thought you might have been dead." Harry grabbed one of his arms and tried to help Sirius up. "You would not believe what I've went through to get you back."
Grey eyes turned on him. "Actually, I would."
Sirius went on to explain that he'd been bodiless, a sort of spectator in the Veil, and had nothing to do but watch earth as it went on without him, a form of cruel torture. He'd seen Harry's myriad of attempts over the years, all of his trials in rescuing Sirius. He'd watched as Harry had failed time and time again, until finally, he succeeded.
"Just...how much of it have you seen?" Harry asked, hesitantly. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know, but he felt like he had to ask anyways. Still...he remembered the things he'd done about a year, year and a half ago, when he was at his lowest point, full of despair and desperation. He would have done anything, and he almost did. It had been dark.
Sirius smiled darkly, maybe not even aware he was doing it. "I know about the sacrifices, kid. You've got that Black mania in you too."
Harry hunched down, trying to look repentant, though truth be told he would do anything to bring Sirius back, no matter the cost. And he thought Sirius knew it too.
Instead of saying anything, Harry just hugged Sirius closer, relieved that something in his life was finally working out, even if it had taken a hell of a ride to get there.
"I'm so sorry it took this long." He murmured.
Sirius didn't say anything, just patted Harry's hair fondly.
It felt like forgiveness.