Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All Harry Potter series are the legal right granted to Mrs. Joanne Kathleen Rowling. I own nothing; I am simply borrowing her story and plot and twisting it into one of my own for my entertainment and others. No money is intended to be made out of any my fanfic/s.

Authors Note: My first one-shot! It's been floating around in my head for some time, and I've finally completed it, and replies from any very much appreciated Reviews will be on my bio-page! Anyway! On with the story!

Enjoy!

Lost In Grief

By Abay

-One-Shot-

Grimmauld place was once a place that hustled and bustled with life, it was once a place where the people, although momentarily wedged in a battle for light-- talked, laughed, shared their thoughts with one another, and even joked once in a while. Heck, it used to be unbearably noisy compared to this eerie silence that had drifted over the house! The hushed stillness in the Black Manor had worked its way through the house like a dementor, slowly, though drastically consuming happiness from its inhabitants, robbing them, of what little joy was left in their hearts because of this blood shedding war.

The kitchen door of Grimmauld Place was flung open, revealing an extremely distraught Remus Lupin. His handsome young face, though always used to bear his warm-like smile that melted down the feminine hearts, was now drowned with nothing but extreme worry, and his amber eyes traveled the room, searching for whom he seeked, but between Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Tonks, Molly, and the Weasley Twins, he could not find the emerald eyed boy among them.

"Where is he?" he croaked, running a hand through his light-brown hair, causing it stand on end.

"H-He's in the boy's room, and he won't come out of there," Hermione answered at once, knowing to whom her former professor was referring to.

"How is he?" Remus asked, his throat constricting tighter by the minute.

But his question however, was not answered to by words; the mere expression on their faces was an enough answer for him.

Hermione, sat staring at him, her eyes wide and full of unshed tears, and unlike her knowing expression, her face seemed to ask questions, questions that she did was not able to clasp any answers to. Ron however, was quite impassive, his face, oddly blank, wiped out of all emotion, and judging by the several butter bears aligned in front of him, he was trying to get his mind to float as far off of Grimmauld Place as possible. Ginny's eyes and the Weasley twins too, once full and over bright with mischief and trouble making was now merely a monotonous, dreary brown… Molly's face on the other hand he could not see, but by evaluating the way she had rested her head in her arms on the table, she was ever so desperately trying to hide the tears away from her children. And Tonks…Tonks was looking at him, and he could feel the emotion of dread, fear, sadness and pain over-flood her…

What had happened here?

Not standing another minute facing them, Remus spun on his heal and bolted out of the kitchen and up the stairs, passing Mrs. Black portrait, which was thankfully silent tonight, and climbed another flight of stairs until he reached the second landing…and it was after he had stopped his running that he felt his heart beating hard against his chest, thumping wildly, for the fear of anything dire, anything dreadful happening to Harry…his cub.

Harry …

Grabbing the door handle, wanting nothing but to rush inside the room and snap Harry out of whatever he was going through, Remus twisted the door knob and pushed the door aside, letting a heart breaking sight unveil before his very eyes, making every inch of him freeze to the core…to his very sole.

Harry was sitting on the bed, breathing in short gasps of air, trembling at every movement, and he rocked himself backwards and forwards, pulling on his collar as the sweat dribbled down his face, starring at the far end of the room, never leaving it out of his sight, but his eyes were what showed his extreme anguish and grief. It was as though a shadow had eclipsed the brightness in Harrys' eyes, making the once young and full of life boy he used to know, into a lost child, who was carrying a far greater burden than he could bear- than anyone could bear.

Remus stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, but Harry did not seem to notice him, he continued to stare at the same spot, never letting his eyes avert it, and only when Remus called out his name in a hushed whisper did his head snap up towards him, and for a moment, their eyes locked, but it was only for a instant. Harry had turned his head once again, and looked back at the same area, and ever so slightly, his lips moved, but Remus could not catch what he was saying.

He took a step closer.

"Harry?" he called again, and when the boy didn't respond, he stood in front of him, and kneeled down, resting his hand on Harrys' shoulder. "What's wrong Harry, come on son, you can tell me?"

"M-make it go Remus…" Harry whispered hoarsely, his eyes, still boring at the back of the room.

"Make what go Harry?" Remus said shaking Harry's shoulder gently, trying to make the boy look at him for a second.

"Make it go…" Harry's hands were shaking as it ran through his hair, down his neck…as he rubbed his knees. It was as though every part of him was itching…but from what Remus did not know.

"What is it Harry? Tell me, tell me..." Remus said, practically pleading Harry to give him a comprehensible explanation.

"It hurts," was the husky reply, his eyes, still not parting from whatever he was gazing at. "It hurts…"

"Where Harry? Where does it hurt Harry?" Remus probed, wanting to get out as much out of Harry to ease his pains.

"Here. Here." Harry said patting his chest, right over his heart. "It burns…so much…"

Remus hesitantly placed a hand against his chest, at the place Harry had pointed out, but the boy did not flinch at the touch, and the werewolf in him could not smell the stench of a wound…but his canine senses were extremely sharp, as usual, and he could sense another kind of pain…an expressive pain, deep inside of him… He could feel that Harry was filled with so much torment…so much remorse…

"Harry…" he said again, gently coaxing Harry for a lucid answer. "Tell me what's wrong son?"

Remus's voice in his ear was oddly far and distant, and Harry did not put any effort in concentrating on the conversation Remus was trying to sweet-talk out of him, he kept his eyes trained on the far end of the wall…where his mother and father stood…where Sirius …his godfather, stood…all looking at him…looking at him not with anger, but with disappointment.

He, Harry, had been sitting in this position all night, for hours, not daring to approach them nor leave them out of his sight, for the fear that merely a blink of an eye would show him that they were nothing but a sheer figment of his imagination…but time seemed to stretch endlessly…and still…not one had uttered a word to the other.

A longing had grown in his heart…a need to talk to them…embrace them…prove to himself that they were real…Hesitantly, Harry got up, walked passed Remus and willed his feet to walk towards them.

His feet felt heavier…like stones, as he dragged them, and the blood seemed to pound harder in his ears, deafening them from any sound...from any call of his name…Remus's calls…

And what to him seemed like eternity, he finally stopped in front of them…just a few steps away…and there they were…the three of them…dressed in pearly white robes…standing…as they did all night…and Harry let out a sigh of relief for the reason that they had not dispersed like he imagined them too…they were still there…

His mother stood between both men, holding his fathers hand, her face so pure, so angelic, and her red fiery hair flowed ever so beautifully, and his father, the exact image of himself, stood tall and proud, a feeling of wisdom and warmth vibrating out of him. Along with them, his godfather too stood, never looking better in his life. His face was fuller, and his hair was short as it was in his years of youth, making him look handsome and elegantly so, but his grey eyes were the biggest difference of Sirius's striking features. The haunted and deadened look that was so vivid in his eyes no longer excited…the nightmares he lived appeared to no longer haunt him…but they all shared the exact look in their eyes…emerald, hazel and grey.

It was disappointment. In him, Harry.

His legs would not carry him further, he could not stand, and slowly, he sank to his knees.

"Forgive me…forgive me…" he whispered hoarsely…his throat was so raw, so dry and tight with pain.

"Get up son," his father said, his voice strong yet gentle. "Get up."

Shakily, Harry breathed in heavily and shook his head.

He couldn't. He couldn't.

And then she spoke, the most beautiful voice he had ever heard…she was a phoenix's song to his ears…a voice that soothed his sole…his mother.

"Is this what you do to yourself Harry? You weep?"

"I-I'm not crying…" he whispered back truthfully. It was years since he had shed tears, years since he cried like a child, and tonight was not a different matter. Not one, not one tear did he release.

"And yet in the inside you feel yourself tear apart, you feel yourself break," his father said with perception in his words, though he looked young in years. "You have dug yourself in a hole far too deep, and you find your self now trying to claw your way out, seeking an escape root when the hole seems to start to close up on you…Give yourself peace, let your heart rest my son."

"I-I can't! I can't!" Harry cried out feverishly shaking his head.

How could his father ask him to forget? To let go of the ones he loved behind? To forgive himself…

"I love them too much to let them go, to let you go…"

Sirius looked at him sadly, then took a step forward, kneeling down next to him, his face vibrant with light. "You have to move on my godson, move on before the world moves on without you –"

"I want nothing of this world!" Harry yelled bitterly. "It brought me nothing but pain! It gave me nothing but wounds that nothing can heal!"

His heart started thumping wildly on his chest; every feeling of resentment seemed to take over his thoughts.

"Many have lost ones who were dear to their hearts," his mother said softly. "But you have to fight, continue on –"

"But why is it me!" Harry bellowed furiously, slamming his fists on the floor. "Why was I chosen? Why do I have to carry the greatest burden of them all! Why does it end with me! Why? …"

The room seemed to go quite again as those words poured out of Harry's heart with such emotion, until his father broke the eerie silence, speaking again with wisdom and good judgment in his words.

"It does not do well to question what was chosen for us. It does not do well to wallow in self -pity; all you have to do my son is choose. Choose between what is right and what is easy. You have not yet lost all."

"But I have…I have…" Harry croaked screwing his face, trying to keep his emotions at bay.

They were all gone, his father…his mother…Sirius, the only parental figure he ever knew. He had lost it all. They were gone forever.

"But look Harry, look around you!" Sirius spoke softly but with urgency in his voice. "Remus is here, worried about you, like a father worries for a son. And downstairs, your friends, whom regard you as family, one of their own, wish you nothing but better."

Now, Harry looked back at Sirius as he said those words. His brow furrowed, and his emerald eyes filled with confusion as he stared back at the deep grey eyes of his godfather.

Did they not understand? Did they not see that although he had people who were still dear to him, he had still lost a great deal, a great piece of his heart, his life? Were they not aware, that the reason he grieved so much was because he knew that he would loose them all someday …somehow?

"But I-I'm afraid," he confessed in a low voice. "Afraid to loose them in this war that takes and never gives…"

"Then fight for them!" his father said firmly. "Search for the path of light, and lead them Harry."

"But I see no light! Not when it's darkness all around me!"

"Then be their light Harry," his mother said calmly. "Be their torch. Shed the light for them. Stand tall."

He did not understand! How could he stand strong when his feet crumbled beneath him? How could he stand when the weight he carried upon his shoulders were far too great for him? How!

'But how?" he asked weakly. "How can I do this alone when I feel so weak? When I feel there's no life left in me…"

"Alone?" Sirius said looking at him with unwaveringdetermined eyes. "The ones you love will help you, let them aid you my godson, because if you wish to do this on your own, then you will fall and they will crumble, one after the other, along with you."

Harry said nothing; his emotions seemed to want to break free, to spill out of him. But he would not cry, he would not weep. Men who were supposed to stay strong did not cry like children, but Sirius's words, though true, were harsh, and they had stung him badly, reality had never hit him that hard.

The pregnant silence had settled itself once again heavily upon them, and this time, it was not his father who had broken the silence, it was his mother.

"Do you understand Harry?"

Taking a deep, unsteady breath, Harry nodded numbly and stood shakily to his feet.

Darkness would end by his hands and by his hands only. And if he failed…then this world would perish, by destruction…slowly…painfully…the good will end if he did not fight back…if he did not win. He knew it now…He understood his importance in this war…

Harry looked at his father, mother and Sirius, his godfather, who had stood beside them once more, and knowing that this would be the last time they would be with his presence, hesqueezed his eyes shutand turned around quickly, knowing that if he did not do this now, then he never will.

Let go…he told himself…let go…

But suddenly, a thought had struck him, something he wished and desired to tell Sirius from the day his godfather had passed away.

Never did he have the chance to tell Sirius that he loved him as a son would love his father, as a brother would love his older brother. Never did he, Harry, tell Sirius how much he looked up at him, how much he respected him.

But now, now this was his chance. His first and last, and he would seize it.

"Wait!" Harry cried flinging his eyes open and spinning around. "Sirius wait!"

But as he reached out a hand to grab Sirius, to embrace him, he found that his hand went right through him. His godfather smiled sadly at him as he slowly started to loose his opaqueness, until he faded away, just like his mother and father, who were beside him mere seconds ago.

Gone…gone…they're gone…

His arm, which was still out stretched, fell numbly to his side, and he stared at their missing presence.

He did not acknowledge what he felt right now. Was it grief? Pain? Sorrow? Anger? He did not know…but it was so overwhelming, so tiring, that he moved back slowly to the bed and sat at the edge, feeling more trapped within himself than ever before.

Remus looked at Harry, awe struck at his sudden behavior, and his brain did not seem to transmit any signals to his body, because he remained there, in his kneeling position, staring at Harry, fazed by his abrupt demeanor , and suddenly, it was as though someone had switched a light in his head, letting the questions flood his mind.

What was wrong with Harry?

…

Why was he acting this way?

…

And who was he speaking to? He had heard him scream Sirius's name, perhaps he thought he was speaking to him?

…

Remus stood up as he watched Harry's outstretched hand fall to his side, and a wave of disillusionment washed over him, but it disappeared as soon as it came, and instead, out of all the emotions Harry set free tonight, an expression that was absolutely expressionless settled upon his face. He watched as Harry moved and sat on the edge of the bed, slowly, silently, as though nothing happened, as though he had not showed any signs of pain.

But Remus knew he was only masking his feelings beneath, bottling them inside as Harry always did. Remus knew that it was not well for ones health and sole too keep the anguish inside of their heart…it was self destruction, and Remus would not let Harry meet that end. So he sat by Harry on the edge of the bed, and laid a hand on his shoulders, showing him that he was here for him, that he would help him.

A pearly white tear had escaped Harry, and ran down his cheek, but he wiped it away quickly, ducking his head in shame, willing himself not to cry.

"It doesn't make you weak to cry Harry," he said quietly, placing a warm- comforting hand on his head. "I…I won't think less of you if you did…"

Slowly, Harry raised his head, and looked at Remus with those tear-jerking, heartrending, emerald, bright eyes, and said quietly. "I never said good-bye to him Remus…I-I-" But whatever Harry wanted to say he never knew, because the boy had broken into sobs, crying like the child he was, and Remus, without tentativeness, pulled Harry into an embrace, letting him cry into his chest.

"It'll be alright Harry," he said quietly to Harry, as he rubbed his back soothingly and kissed the top of his unruly black hair. "I'm here for you son…I'm here."

But the boy did not seemed to be soothed, because he cried harder, sobbing, and clinging on to Remus like he was about to loose it all, until he cried himself to sleep. Gently, Remus laid Harry's head on the pillow, put his legs on the bed, and took off his shoes and socks, then tucked the blanket around him.

As silently as he could, Remus walked out of the room, down the stairs, passed Mrs. Black's snoring portrait, and down another flight of stairs until he reached the kitchen to find all it's occupant asleep in the most un-comfortable looking positions.

Quietly, he retrieved a sleeping drought from the cupboard, just to make sure that no nightmares bothered Harry tonight, and walked back to the stairs when someone spoke making him jump out of his skin.

"How is he Remus?"

"Good god Molly! You scared me!" he breathed quietly, making sure not to wake up any of the children.

"Oh I'm sorry Remus dear," she whispered. "But tell me, is he alright?"

"He will be, Molly, he will be," and with that, he went back to Harry's room, and gently coaxed him to drink the potion, and half-asleep, Harry complied and drank it wordlessly, as Remus held the flask for him.

"Sweet dreams Harry."

"G-g-nigh' Re-Re…"

And with a huge yawn, Harry slumped into his arms, and once again, Remus laid him back on the pillow and tucked the blankets protectively around him.

Heaving a sigh, he stood up and conjured himself a comfy arm-chair and sat on it, letting his head sink into the comfortable material.

He would stay all night here with Harry…

He would be here when he woke up…

And he would be with him the rest of his life, guiding him, as a father would guide a son…because to him…Harry was a son of his own.

..-..

Authors Note

..-..

Ah, well, finally got that off my chest..wanted to write this for so long, so some feedback would be treasured! and cherished! and prized! and.. what I mean is please, please, please Review!

It would be very appreciated!

Pretty, pretty please!