Title: Painful dreams
Author name: triola
Category: Tragedy
Sub Category: none
Rating: PG
Summary: It's the summer after Sirius' death and Harry is haunted by dreams
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author notes: Meh… another one of the pathetic and tragic little stories I love writing… tell me what you think...
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Harry Potter was sitting on the bed in his room, looking out on the dark contours that were his desk and his trunk. In a few weeks he would be going back to Hogwarts to attend his sixth year there. He groaned at the thought. He was glad he was going back to Hogwarts, it wasn't that, he just didn't like the prospect of being around people again. His aunt and uncle were of course people too, but they left him alone and didn't ask him how he was feeling or how he was coping. For the first time in history, he had actually enjoyed staying with them. He had ignored them, they had ignored him, and that was exactly how he wanted it to be. How he needed it to be.
He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He dreaded meeting Hermione. Ron wasn't so bad, he didn't ask so many question, but Hermione. She would ask him how he felt, if he had had any nightmares and how he was coping. And she would keep on asking until she was satisfied with the answer, and then she would make him tell her once more so that she could evaluate it. And if he told her he didn't want to talk about it, she would get hurt, or she would insist that he needed to talk about it. Which he didn't. And he couldn't really lie to her either. He had always been a terrible liar and Sirius had often told him that it was the curse of his green eyes.
Sirius.
Harry felt the anger rise in him as it always did when he thought about Sirius. He grabbed the first thing he could reach and threw it in the wall. Damn, I'll have to clean that up, he thought absently as he looked at the scattered ink bottle lying in the corner of his room. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. I have to stop throwing things around every time I think of Sirius, he mused and looked up into the ceiling. It was just so bloody unfair! For almost fourteen years he'd been without any kind of parental figure, then Sirius come along and he is wonderful, perfect and simply amazing. Then he dies. He bloody hell goes off and dies! And that wasn't all. Harry could have coped with Sirius dying. He had coped with Cedric, hadn't he? But the man wouldn't leave him alone. He came back, haunted him, crept into all of his dreams and made it impossible to sleep. Cedric had also haunted him, but that was nothing like this. In the dreams about Cedric it was all a nightmare and he knew when he woke it would be over. With Sirius, it wasn't a nightmare at all, and that made it so much worse. He usually dreamt of the might-have-beens, things that had never happened, but might have happened if they'd had more time together. And he kept remembering the dreams the rest of the day, seeing Sirius' face everywhere.
Last night he'd dreamt one of the most difficult dreams, one that kept coming back and back. Harry closed his eyes, he could still picture everything as clearly as if he was still dreaming…
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Harry was standing among the trees in a little valley. In the horizon he could see the lights of a village, but around him everything was dark. In front of him was a cottage painted in a green color long faded. The windows were dark and lifeless, and some of them were even broken. No one had been here for years.
He walked over and looked through one of the windows. He could barely make out the contours of a table, and a few chairs that were scattered around the room. On the floor was a teapot and two cups, broken and useless. The whole place told a tale of struggle and fight.
Harry felt tears come to his eyes, as he tried to picture how it used to be before that fatal night, years ago. He could see a redheaded woman sitting in the chair by the window, rocking a sweet baby boy to sleep. Her green eyes sparkled like stars in the light from the fire and her lips sang softly to the tune of a lullaby. Behind her, in the doorway, stood a man and watched her, yet unnoticed. He was tall and healthy, with strong features and dark, unruly hair. His warm hazel eyes shone with the love of a father and a husband, watching what was most precious to him in the whole world.
Now the tears were flowing freely down Harry's cheeks. He touched the glass of the window gently, willing it to go away so he could reach in and touch his mother. Just this one time.
Behind him he could hear someone walking quietly in the soft grass, and he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.
"Harry" said the deep voice kindly, and he turned around to look at his Godfather.
"Please Sirius, just this one time." He begged and looked pleadingly up into the other mans face.
Sirius shook his head sadly and dried Harry's cheek gently with a careful motion. "They're gone" he whispered and rested his hand on his Godsons cheek.
The warmth from Sirius hand spread through Harry and he felt calmer. "I know they are" he said. "I just want… I mean, just one time…" he stopped and looked down.
"I know, green eyes. I know," said Sirius soothingly and held him close.
Harry cried into the other mans chest, and felt his strong arms hold him protectively. He wished he would never let go. Inside Sirius' arms he felt warm, and safe. This was how it was supposed to be. He looked up at his Godfather who smiled down at him.
"Let's go" whispered Sirius and led him away by the hand. Harry didn't know where they were going, or what would happen, but he knew that as long as he had Sirius by his side everything would be ok.
XoXoX
Harry shook his head and dried the tears that had rolled down his cheek. The worst part wasn't really the dream, it was waking up and knowing it would never happen. Sirius would never hold him, never comfort him when he was crying, never take him away from his painful past. Harry curled up and hugged his knees, looking out on the dark room. He had never felt so lonely and completely lost in his entire life. But maybe it would be better in a few weeks when he went to Hogwarts. If nothing else, he could ask Madam Pomfrey if she had a potion for dreamless sleep. And with that thought, Harry drifted off into another night of restless tossing and turning.
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A/N: Yeah, that was all… do review.