A/n: hi… err… this is just one of my drabbles… well, actually, this plot has been bugging me and has been begging to be released in any form. So please bear with me here.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of this.
If I Could Touch You
"How is he?" the man asked.
"Still no progress I'm afraid, and if his body doesn't show any signs of being alive or awake, his body may have completely shut down." The woman said. "Sirius, I don't want to believe this, but I think he's giving up on us. Everything he's showing us says so."
"Poppy, I don't want to lose him. He was the reason I got back from the veil. I don't want to come back just to lose him again." The man named Sirius said.
Sirius walked towards the occupant's bed. It saddened him to see the patient so pale and fragile. The black hair, the supple body and those hands – Sirius knew were calloused from training – they all lacked life and energy. The animagus sat beside his godson's bed, clasping his hand all the while doing so. Merlin, Sirius thought. Even his warmth isn't the same.
The war ended last June, just before Harry's supposed graduation. The whole of wizarding world rejoiced once the news that the Dark Lord is finally dead. It however didn't leave anyone unscathed; casualties on both sides were made. The perfect example being Harry himself, for after the Dark Lord's defeat, the golden boy collapsed after making sure that Lord Voldemort is dead once and for all.
Everyone thought that the cause was magical exhaustion for he slept through ten days. But when he showed no signs of waking anytime soon, his friends and the Order began to worry; Sirius most especially.
While stuck in the veil – where no one knows what lies beneath, even Sirius has a foggy memory of the place of which still gives him unpleasant shudders – the animagus had a lot of time to think about his relationship with his godson. Now, he realized, he loves him more than that is healthy for a godfather to give his unsuspecting. And the older Gryffindor plans on keeping it from Harry for a pretty long time.
"Sirius, it's already getting late. Go back to your chambers and get some rest." The sound of Poppy's voice disrupted his chain of thoughts. "Besides, the godson is enough. I don't need the godfather in my infirmary as well." The mediwitch said, attempting herself in light humor and gave off a weak smile. Sirius returned a pained one.
The war maybe over, but it didn't let anyone sleep at night without the visions of their own loved ones dying repeatedly.
Sirius entered the Hospital wing with a bouquet of flowers to change the wilted ones in the dull looking vase on Harry's bedside table. The sight that greeted him was that of a woman – around Harry's age – with bushy hair, brushing away Harry's fringes from his face.
"Hermione…" Sirius gasped lightly. He hadn't seen the young witch since her fiancé – Ronald Weasley's – burial. It has been too long since they last saw each other.
"Harry… Please wake up. Be strong. Oh, Harry." The former Gryffindor prefect sobbed. "Please, wake up. This time you get to live your own life without anyone telling you what you should and should not do; just like what you've been wanting for years." She continued to weep. "Harry, I've missed you. Gods, Harry, I've been praying to every deities known to mankind that you'll come out of this sane and well. I already lost Ron; I don't know what I'll do without you.
"Harry James Potter, you listen and you listen well. You've got to pull out of this coma all right? You just have to! You have to or else… or else…" Another sob escaped from her lips. "My god, I can't even form a decent threat anymore…" Hermione clasped her best friend's hand tightly; afraid that when she lets go, she'll release more than just her friend's hand.
A firm hand squeezed her shoulder and the witch couldn't help letting out a startled gasp. She turned to see the owner of the hand and was surprised to see that a supposedly dead man was standing right next to her – breathing and looking very much alive. "Sirius…? How-? When-?" her mouth trying to form coherent words but to no avail.
"I didn't think I'd live to see the day Ms. Know-it-all herself will be reduced to a gaping fool." The man teased and received a half-meant punch from the said witch. "Really! Even after all you've been through, you haven't changed a single bit!" She then hugged him - with much vigor that would make Molly Weasley proud – which the marauder returned.
When they released each other from the embrace, Sirius set the flowers he'd been holding on the vase at Harry's bedside table. "Tulips." Hermione stated, reminiscing those times she's seen Harry picking one at the garden in school. "He once told me the reason why he loved them so much." Sirius turned to look at her and asked why. She looked away from her best friend and said, "Because they reminded him so much of you. He said that tulips are simple looking flowers, not much elegance on them. That its simplicity captivated him most; that it's just like you. He said that you don't have to pretend like someone else for everyone to like you. They just do without realizing it."
Sirius was surprised by the revelation that he could only nod his acknowledgement at what Hermione said. "He loves you, you know? More than you realize. You didn't see him grieve outside, but he was tearing apart the moment it dawned upon him that you were gone."
She turned to look at Sirius and saw that she's said more than that would suffice if the pain she saw in his eyes ever said anything. "I think I've said enough. I'll get going then." She kissed him on the cheek, grabbed her purse and coat, and headed for the door. She turned around to say one last thing to him, "Sirius, when he wakes up, please don't tell him I told you anything. He'll have my head, I'm sure of it." Then shut the door.
Sirius chuckled and thought that some things just never changed no matter how different they seem.
It was the eve before Christmas, months have passed and still no progress or even the slightest hint that he'll be waking anytime soon. The wizarding world's hero's godfather was still by his side, quietly observing his features under the little light in the infirmary. Sirius was fiddling with the young man's hair – and a few moments later, stroking his cheeks.
Sirius sighed for the nth time that night, it was getting late and he decided to turn in for the night already. But he was currently having an inner debate with himself. Finally, after a few minutes had passed, he crossed the space between him and Harry's bed, bent down until he can feel Harry's warmth on his face. He closed the distance between the two of them and gave his godson a kiss on his lips. It wasn't heated or desperate and contrary to what everybody thought how Sirius Black kissed; the contact was actually sweet and innocent.
The man was about to break it when he felt the lips under his – ones that were supposed to be still – were moving against his. He couldn't believe what was happening; his own godson is kissing him back!
A hand on his cheek made him stop and break away from the kiss. "Sirius…" Harry's closed eyes slowly opened to reveal shining jade orbs. "You're back…" His hand still caressing the man's left cheek, he looked directly at the pools of those cobalt blue eyes; how Harry loved gazing at them.
Sirius couldn't help it and let out a sob. "Harry, you're awake." He grabbed the calloused hands and twined them with his own and putting his lips at the backside of those hands. "How long have I passed out?" Harry asked and not even tearing his gaze away from the man he deeply loved; and more than brotherly way. "Six months." Came the immediate reply.
"That long, huh?" He asked, a small smile playing on his lips; clearly wanting to laugh if only he had the energy to do so. Sirius looked at his godson and knew that look on his face all too well. "It's not funny you know. You got us all worried, especially me…" He finished silently; this caused the smile on Harry's face to disappear. "Sirius–" The boy interrupted.
"No Harry, let me finish. Ever since your parents appointed me as your guardian, I've vowed never to let you or them down. But I did, more than once in fact." He paused for a while. "But Sirius, none of those-" Harry began once more. "It is and you know it, you may not just realize it." He shakily ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath while he was at it.
Sirius looked at Harry straight in the eye, his gaze not even wavering for a second. "And now, now I've fallen head over heels over my deceased best friend's son; in other words, my godson. If that doesn't make me a totally whacked guardian, I don't know what will." Once he was finished, he turned to see the expression he was expecting to see. "And now you're mortified. I guess I better leave then, yeah? Get some rest Harry, heaven know you need it in more reasons than one."
The animagus made his way for the exit when he felt arms encircling his waist; he stopped dead in his tracks. "I say to hell with being a whacked guardian. I lived under a god forsaken place for most of my life, was on one of the wizarding world's craziest villain's hit list, and was constantly wondering when I'll finally kick the bucket and off to the next world. You think I'll care what others would say once they knew I was madly in love with my godfather?" The young hero said while resting his forehead on the man's back.
"Are you serious?" The man asked disbelief evident in his eyes. A cheeky smile spread across Harry's face, "No, the last time I checked, that" a kiss on the forehead. "Was" one on the cheek. "You." Then placed a final kiss on the lips. Sirius broke the kiss and playfully slapped Harry's head. "Smart ass." The smile his face contradicted the connotation of his words. He hugged him tightly not ever wanting to let him go. "I don't want to ever leave you." He whispered in the boy's ears. "Neither would I Sirius, neither would I."
fin