Coqui has
taken the time to go through and edit all this for the people who think I'm an
obnoxious snot, including myself, and the stupid original AN would have
discouraged them from reading my (I hope) somewhat decent fic!
PART 1
Harry Potter sat cross-legged on his bed. He tried to concentrate
on his History of Magic essay, but found his thoughts kept drifting back to one
thing: Voldemort. The Dark Lord had risen, Harry had seen it happen. [Ahem.
This is NOT part of the story, inside the bracket thingys... I will NOT waste
space with a long draggy description of the 1st 4 books. Read them yourself.] It
had been haunting his mind ever since he had returned to Privet Drive. Harry
had been unable to focus on his homework or anything else in particular. It was
now mid July, and Harry had heard from Ron a few times. Each letter was the
same: "Don't let the Muggles get you down, Mum says Dumbledore will tell
us when you can come." Which was of no help to Harry when he found himself
being woken increasingly by sharp aches in his scar and vivid nightmares. He
wished Sirius could have stayed with him for a little bit at Hogwarts, but he
knew that Sirius had to do his part to try to thwart Voldemort's progress.
Harry hadn't yet heard from him; he was beginning to get worried. He wondered
where Hedwig was, it was nearly 4, he saw, glancing at the old clock on his
chipped bedside table. He wasn't worried, but he missed her. He didn't feel like doing his essay, and he
guessed that if he slept, that he would dream about the Triwizard Tournament
(which he didn't feel like thinking about.) So he elected to go watch for Hedwig and look at the stars. Getting up from his bed, he hid his History
of Magic texts under the loose floorboard, and went to the window.
"The moon is nearly full," he mused, thinking that his old teacher
Professor Lupin would be becoming a wolf very soon. Suddenly a movement on his
left caught his eye. Hedwig was gliding over Privet Drive. But was it only
Hedwig? There was another owl beside
her, he saw as she came closer.
This owl was a light brown, and medium sized. His yellow eyes regarded Harry wisely as
Harry untied the letter on his leg, which was addressed to him.
"Dear Harry,
I hope this letter finds you well. I know this must
be a particularly trying time for you, especially after what happened at the
end of last year... I told you the last time I saw you that you would see me
soon, and I intend to make good on that promise. Can you be in the back garden
of the Muggle's house at 6pm on your birthday? Let me know if you can, I need
to talk to you, as you know there are risks of sending too long a letter by
owl...Hedwig will know where to find me. Write if you need me sooner.
Take care.
Sirius." The letter read.
Excellent, thought Harry. He hastily scribbled a reply saying he
would be there, and sent it with Hedwig, who nipped his finger affectionately
before flying off with a goodbye hoot.
Then, since his History of Magic essay about Gregory the Smarmy wasn't going
anywhere, he elected to try to get some sleep, feeling quite content that he
would get to see Sirius in a few days, and attempting to get the Triwizard
Tournament out of his head.
***
July 31st couldn't come quickly enough, in Harry's opinion. His summer had been horrible so far. The Dursley's had practically starved him. They gave him a half-cup of water and some cheese and bread crumbs once a day, furious because Harry hadn't lost any weight while on Dudley's weight loss program the previous summer, while Dudley, still enormous, had lost 69 pounds. Harry fortunately had some food from Hermione, Hagrid, and the Weasley's, who had anticipated his dilemma. (Hermione had gotten her own barn owl, Thor, after Crookshanks had been run over by a car in June. Thor helped ease the pain she felt at the loss of her beloved cat.)
But Harry still felt an emptiness inside him which he
didn't think had anything to do with hunger. No, there was a gap inside him,
deep inside. It was loneliness. Harry had felt this ache before, but never this
intensely. He felt so...alone. At least
30 people wanted him dead; he still hadn't gotten over his last encounter with
Voldemort. Harry had felt his loneliness ease only slightly when he read letters
from Ron, or when he read Sirius' letter. Hogwarts kept him busy enough so that
his loneliness wasn't as intense, and he had friends there...but now, alone in
the Dursley's house, feeling very vulnerable, very...it was hard to explain, to
understand. All he knew was that Sirius could help, that Sirius understood.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, it was 6pm July 28th. Harry began to
walk out the back door, but-
"Where do you think
you're going, boy?" snarled Uncle Vernon's voice from behind him.
" Er-outside?"
said Harry feebly.
"No, you're not,"
Uncle Vernon said nastily.
"Ah-" Harry began, but didn't finish. He was interrupted by a
loud "BANG" in which the back door rocketed off its hinges and hit
Uncle Vernon square in the face. He held the door upright while rubbing his
forehead. A tall figure strode in the door. Harry instantly knew it was Sirius.
"Hello, Harry,"
he said pleasantly, smiling at him from under his hood. Then he turned to Uncle
Vernon and continued in a business-like tone, "What were you saying, Mr.
Dursley?"
"Er-er-ah-er,"
stammered Uncle Vernon incoherently, quaking in half fear, half fury at this
black-robed intruder who had broken down his back door.
"That's what I
thought," growled Sirius in a tone reminiscent of Mad-Eye-Moody.
"Now, unless you have any objections, Harry comes outside with me."
Uncle Vernon looked dumbfounded.
"And no calling the
police. I'll know if you do." said Sirius. He then strolled out the door
and beckoned Harry to follow him. After they were both outside, Sirius raised
his wand and made the door zoom out of Uncle Vernon's arms and back onto its
hinges.
"How're you
doing?" inquired Harry.
"Bit stressed.
Otherwise fine. Not important. You?" replied Sirius briskly. He couldn't help noticing the incredibly
dark bags under Harry's alert eyes.
"You answer that one,
Sirius," said Harry quietly, looking down at the grass.
"Lonely, unfocused, worried,
uncomfortable...What else would you be?"
"And you hit the nail
right on the head!" exclaimed Harry.
A slight grin crossed Sirius' face, which had a
good-natured expression and was clean-shaven. Sirius looked a different man
than Harry had first seen 2 years before. Comparing the Sirius that stood
before him to the Sirius on the Muggle "Wanted" posters in his mind's
eye, Harry could scarcely tell that they were the same person.
"Ok, Harry, I have
about half an hour to chat with you before I Dissapparate back to Remus' place.
We'll be receiving Arabella and Fletcher there when I get there...Until then,
I'm just going to talk to you, because I figure you need to talk to someone
after what happened last year. And Dumbledore not letting you go with
Ron...Look Harry, Dumbledore's a very reasonable man. He hasn't been wrong
yet...I might not agree with him sometimes but he wouldn't have sent you back
here if he didn't think it was the best place for you. Got it?"
Harry nodded. "You've got a wand," he observed.
"Oh, yeah," said
Sirius, fiddling with his wand. "Dumbledore pulled some strings with
Ollivander...He said after I'd alerted everyone to arm myself...Remus turned me
invisible...well, long story. Basically I came to tell you we're doing
everything in our power to stop him, OK?" Seeing the look on Harry's face,
Sirius continued, "Diggory's death and Voldemort's reincarnation are NOT
your fault Harry. The fact that you
stopped me from killing [A/N Pocahontas thingy!!! *snigger* Private
joke, hehehe…] that 'BEEP CENSORED' Pettigrew does NOT make you responsible
for Voldemort's reincarnation, nor does the fact that your blood was used. You
understand?"
Harry nodded again.
Sirius
continued, "Though if it hadn't been for my stupidity with the Fidelius,
Peter wouldn't have...and Lily and James wouldn't be...but then YOU wouldn't
have...Oh Harry, I'm sorry!"
"Sirius, its OKAY,"
said Harry, alarmed, because Sirius looked as if he was on the verge of a
nervous breakdown. "That wasn't
your fault either."
"I know," said Sirius
heavily. "But then, you would still...and then none of...but then..."
"Sirius, STOP IT,"
said Harry firmly. "You're not getting anywhere, you're just hurting
yourself, and what's done is done! You can't change the past!"
"Sorry Harry," said
Sirius again, pulling himself together. "Well, as I was saying, don't
worry about Voldemort too much, we're doing everything we can...though if I'm
not mistaken, Dumbledore will want to talk to you when you get back to school.
I think I might be able to Apparate into the house next time, but I'm not
sure...Dumbledore's got all sorts of wards and enchantments on this place…If I
can, I'll knock your door, ok? I'll try to talk to you again before September
first; I'm not that far away from here, alright? And if you should want to talk
to me about anything, just send Hedwig, she'll know where I am, and she should
only take about half an hour to get there...So you need me, any reason, send
Hedwig, 45 minutes after she leaves, come out here, I'll Apparate about
then...Unless I manage to get into the house with Apparition, of course…Can't
say too much in owls, its sort of risky...I'll have to tell you some stuff later
on so that when you get back to school...But that'll come later. It'll all work
out, don't worry. Is there anything else I'm forgetting? Oh, that's right. Any
dreams where your scar hurts write me and say 'need to talk now, 2' and that'll
be a code so that no one'll know if they intercept it...Ok, well I'd better get
going, Fletcher will be there by now, that's if that dung-brains isn't late as
usual... I guess that's it, see you, I'll write soon." Sirius gave Harry a
swift hug then Dissapparated.
Harry walked slowly back inside, avoiding the living room, where his aunt and
uncle were discussing armed intruders in hushed voices. He trudged up the
stairs to his bedroom, plopped down on his bed, and opened a book for Gregory
the Smarmy research once again. (My
apologies, some of this part is unbelievably OOC, but I changed some stuff
around here, but I didn't want to make the changes too major, because then I'd
probably end up with my story on a completely different path. Yes, I could right it eventually, but I'm a
little lazy :o)
***
Harry was still trying to finish the History of Magic around
midnight, six hours later. He was distracted from his thoughts of Gregory the
Smarmy and Cho Chang when an owl flew into his room. Perhaps a better description
would be "collapsed while flapping." He saw at once that it was Errol, the
feeble, elderly Weasley family owl. Harry wondered why Ron would have sent
something to him via Errol rather than with Pigwidgeon, the minute owl he had
been given by Sirius. Harry picked Errol up off the floor, where he lay
resting, put him inside Hedwig's cage (Hedwig was off hunting) and gently
removed the letter from his leg. He noticed that it was not addressed in Ron's
untidy scrawl, but in Mrs. Weasley's neat hand. He tore it open, and read it.
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday! I am writing to let you know about some bad news. This morning,
when Ron didn't come downstairs for breakfast, I went upstairs to check that
everything was all right. I found him dead. I'm very sorry to break the news to
you like this, but both Arthur and I felt you ought to know. We know you will
feel the same loss that we do.
Love,
Molly Weasley.
[Not part of the letter. I know this is OOC as well, and a bit blunt, but
I'm intending to make the Weasleys, including Mr. and Mrs., blame Harry for
Ron's death. A pardon may be in order
later in the story, but for now, let's just leave it, and don't flame me for
that little bit, okay?]
Harry felt numb with shock. Ron,
dead? Ronald Weasley, his best friend for four years, dead. The idea slowly
washed over him. He remembered the fight that he and Ron had had the previous
year, how miserable he'd been when they weren't speaking, and dismay took the
place of the shock. This would be a fight with Ron, permanently. Harry's
emotions: sadness, loss, dismay, anger at whatever had made Ron die...all
combined to make him feel very lost indeed. He realized that he had never had
to deal with anything like this; he needed someone to help him, to talk with
him, someone who knew what losing someone felt like. He realized slowly that
Sirius fulfilled all of these requirements. The fact that he was nearby was an
added plus. He began to write a letter, explaining to Sirius what he had just
learned, and had finished, when he suddenly realized that he couldn't send it
until Hedwig got back from where ever she was. He tried to concentrate on the
essay again, but then a brown something soared in through the open window. He recognized it as the owl
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday, once again. We need to
talk, NOW.
Harry's immediate reaction was that his godfather possessed psychic powers,
powers that Prof. Trelawney didn't have. Then, musing about the insectiod similarities between Prof. Trelawney
and Rita Skeeter, he tiptoed downstairs to meet Sirius.
***
Sirius was sitting with his back against a tree. Harry approached him silently and sat beside him, shivering, even though the night wasn't cold.
"Good evening," Sirius said.
"Sirius, is this a bad time?" asked Harry. "If you're
busy I'd more than understand..." he added quickly, trying to shorten his
sentences so that the tears that were threatening to fall didn't spill out in
front of Sirius.
"No" replied Sirius. "This is a good a time as any. Besides, you need to talk about Ron's death
to someone. It might as well be
me. I have to make up for 13 years of
absence."
"How did he die?" whispered Harry.
Sirius sighed. "He was killed. By Voldemort, or one of his Death Eaters."
"But what does he have against Ron?"
"He was your friend Harry. Voldemort wants to hurt you."
"So why doesn't he just kill me, and get it over with?"
"Because he thinks it would be more fun to play with you before killing
you. He was in immense pain after he tried to kill you all those years ago.
Dumbledore's theory is that he wants you to feel that pain and then some before
he kills you. And Dumbledore thinks that if he gets his hands on you he will
drag out your death," Sirius explained. "And even if he does do that,
he may purposely release you before he kills you so that you have to live with
the memory of the pain he's inflicted upon you. He would expose you to
Dementors, if given the chance, do the Cruciatus Curse repeatedly, torture
you..." Sirius' voice trailed off. "All sorts of unpleasant things.
So you've got to be careful. I can't let that happen."
"So it's all my fault," said Harry, shaking uncontrollably.
"No, it's not. Not at all." Sirius held Harry to him. Harry was still shivering, but he wasn't crying.
"It's okay to cry in front of me, you know," said Sirius, running his hand up and down Harry's back, trying to calm him down. "Crying doesn't make you weak, Harry. It's all right if you don't want to cry in front of other people, but I won't think any less of you."
Harry felt water coursing down his face, landing on his clothes and Sirius'. He let the tears flow freely for a few moments before speaking again.
"It is my fault, though," he said softly.
"It's not," whispered Sirius. "Don't blame yourself!"
"Yes, it is! Voldemort wouldn't have risen if it wasn't for me, and he wouldn't have killed Ron if he wasn't my best friend!" Harry said miserably, his voice muffled by Sirius' robes.
Sirius tightened his grip on Harry, pulling him closer. Harry didn't mind Sirius' embrace, quite the contrary, he found it rather comforting, but he found it difficult to breathe.
"Sirius, d'you think you could-"
"Oh, right, sorry," Sirius said, releasing him. "Damn! I've been here half an hour already? Harry, I'm really sorry, I have to go…Remus says he's found something…Can you manage?"
Harry nodded.
"I don't want to leave you, it's bad enough that I couldn't stay with you after the Triwizard Tournament, but…"
"It's okay," Harry said. "You have to do what you can. I understand completely."
"That's good. Look, I'll try to come back tomorrow night, all right?"
"Yeah." Harry felt Sirius' arms envelope him once more. He closed his eyes tightly, knowing that if he cried, Sirius wouldn't leave. Harry didn't really want Sirius to leave, but he knew that Sirius had to, and he didn't want to make it more difficult for him than it already was. He relished the safe feeling that Sirius' embrace gave him for a few moments longer before Sirius let go.
"Bye," said Sirius. Then he was gone.
DONE!! Yippeee!!! As always,
none of the characters are mine, they are the intellectual (or physical, or
plastic, or all 3) property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic,
and Warner Brothers. Likenesses are neither
claimed nor implied, the author is making no money off this $hi+, and any
references to real people, dead or alive, is purely coincidental. Please be aware that if you purchased this
book without a cover that it has been reported as 'unsold and destroyed' and
neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for this "stripped"
book. (The last sentence is actually
taken from the publishing info page of just about any paperback in the United
States…run…where is our culture going…what cover…what payment??? Cough.) Monetary donations to the Coqui Foundation
for Mentally Lethargic Children, especially Coqui, who is failing Honors Math
due to her annoying tendency to write fanfic in the back!
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~_^ Coqui the Mighty Frog