Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Warmth and Comfort

By: ChoCedric

"Kill the spare!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

"NO! CEDRIC!"

Harry Potter bolted straight up in bed, his entire body covered in sweat. It was the third time that night he'd had this particular nightmare: the order for Cedric's murder, the screeched curse, and Cedric's lifeless body collapsing next to him.

Thinking he wasn't going to get any more sleep tonight, Harry quietly shuffled out of bed and threw on his robes. He went downstairs to the kitchen, his mind in a haze. He couldn't get the image of Cedric's blank, lifeless eyes staring at him, almost as though they were accusing him of being their owner's killer.

When he got to the kitchen, however, he realized he wasn't alone. Sirius Black was sitting in a chair, gazing at nothing, an anguished look on his wasted, once-handsome face. He looked up, though, as Harry sat down next to him with a glass of water.

"Hey, kiddo," the man said, and he was taken aback by the haunted expression he saw in his godson's emerald eyes.

"Hey, Sirius. What's wrong?" Harry asked softly.

"Oh, nothing, just thinking," Sirius sighed. "How about you? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a nightmare," said Harry, looking away.

The two of them sat in silence for several minutes, but finally, Sirius was the one to break it. Seeing Harry's expression becoming more and more haunted, he whispered, "The boy's death wasn't your fault, you know."

Harry looked up, grief and guilt apparent in his expression. "Yes, it was," he whispered back.

Sirius got up from his chair and knelt by Harry, putting out his hand. "Kiddo, it wasn't," he said gently. "It was Voldemort's."

Everything that had happened: the nightmares, the Dementor attack that had transpired so recently, and the fact that hardly anyone was telling him what was going on all rushed into Harry, and he was finding it extremely hard to control his emotions. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep tears back as Cedric's shocked and fearful face swam into view behind his eyelids again.

"Pup ..." Sirius began, seeing the agony on Harry's face. "Would I lie to you? Come on, let's go to the drawing room."

Shakily, Harry got up and followed Sirius out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. They sat down on the floor, and Sirius put an arm around Harry, who was starting to shake. He knew that now was the time to comfort Harry, and he would do the best he could. I swore I'd take care of him, James, Lily, and I won't fail you anymore, he thought fiercely.

"It's okay, Harry," he soothed softly, as he began to rub Harry's back. "Was the nightmare about Cedric?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered, still trying to keep the tears in. "I tried to stop it ... but I couldn't ... I couldn't ... protect him. It was all my fault. It was my decision for him to take the cup with me ..."

"Because you are not a selfish person," Sirius said quietly. "You can't blame yourself for wanting Cedric to win as well."

"Don't you understand?" Harry cried, his voice rising. "I led him right to his death!" Unable to keep the tears in anymore, he buried his face in Sirius's robes and his body was wracked with sobs.

Sirius felt his heart clench as he held his godson close. "Shhhhhh, it's okay, Harry," he soothed, rubbing tender circles on Harry's back. "It wasn't your fault, kiddo, it wasn't." Harry's sobs only increased, and Sirius held him even tighter against him.

"It's h-horrible," Harry choked out through his tears. "It's his eyes, they're so ... so lifeless ... so blank ... and Voldemort ... he was ... he was ..."

Sirius could only repeat, "It's all right, Harry, it's all right," as he felt his own eyes sting. He knew what real guilt felt like; after all, how many times had he sat in Azkaban, blaming himself for the deaths of James and Lily? If only he hadn't made Peter Secret Keeper ...

When Harry finally stopped sobbing, he looked up into Sirius's face. "I'm s-sorry," he muttered, feeling shame wash over him. "What must you think of me now?"

Sirius let out a gentle laugh. "Don't be silly, Harry," he said softly. "Crying is not a weakness. My own family tried to drill the opposite into my head, but as you know, I don't pay attention to them." He stroked Harry's hair tenderly.

"I know," he said after a moment, "that it's going to take some time for you to believe this, but Cedric's death wasn't your fault." He then decided he was going to ask Harry a very important question. "Harry, do you blame me for the death of your parents?"

Harry stared at his godfather, looking shocked and appalled. "Of course not!" he exclaimed. "Why would I blame you? You didn't know Peter would betray them."

"Exactly," said Sirius, a small smile breaking through. "So you shouldn't blame yourself for Cedric's. You didn't know that cup was a Portkey, did you?"

"No," Harry whispered, his head hanging.

Sirius lifted Harry's chin so he could gaze into his pup's haunted emerald eyes. "Then it's not your fault," he whispered tenderly.

"You still blame yourself for my parents, don't you?" Harry said softly. At Sirius's look, he said, "You shouldn't."

"Promise me you'll try to stop blaming yourself for Cedric, then, kiddo, and I'll try to stop blaming myself for your parents. It was Wormtail and Voldemort. Is that a deal?" Sirius asked quietly.

Harry stared into his godfather's sincere eyes. "Yeah," he whispered. "But Sirius, I'm so scared. I don't want anyone else I care about to die because of Voldemort."

"Harry, I can't promise you there won't be losses," Sirius said honestly, squeezing Harry's hands. At Harry's crestfallen expression, he went on, "But I can promise you that we're going to be as careful as we possibly can. We're more prepared than we were in the First War, and Dumbledore's still the most powerful wizard in the world. But please know that me, Remus, and your friends are going to stick by you no matter what. Don't try to push us away, kiddo."

"I know, I just don't want you to get hurt," Harry said desperately. "And what if I go to my hearing and the Ministry blames me for Cedric's death? I mean, it must have looked awful when I returned to Hogwarts with his body! What if they send me to Azkaban?"

A surge of fierce protectiveness rose up in Sirius as he clutched Harry even closer. "They won't," he whispered fiercely. "We're not going to let that happen. You will not be going to Azkaban, and I will not have you thinking that thought. Banish it from your mind, Harry. The Ministry's not going to blame you for the boy's death, I promise. You will never set a foot in that prison as long as there's breath in my body. And if, by chance, I have to protect you from beyond the grave, I will."

Harry buried his face in Sirius's robes again, letting out a shaky sigh. "They won't put me in Azkaban?" he whispered.

"No," said Sirius. "They won't, I promise. And I'll always be here for you, pup, whether I'm dead or alive."

"Thank you," Harry whispered, closing his eyes. He for once felt safe, warm, and comforted in his godfather's strong arms.

"Anything for you, pup. I will protect you with everything I have," Sirius vowed.

A few minutes later, Harry's breathing was deep and even and Sirius knew he had fallen asleep. Picking him up in his arms, he carried Harry back to his room and laid him under the covers, kissing Harry's forehead tenderly. "No more nightmares, pup," he whispered. "Sweet dreams."

And with that, he left the room, knowing that he had a reason to stay alive and keep fighting. And that reason was Harry Potter, his Prongslet, his pup.