Sirius using the two-way mirror. What if someone was trying to respond? Contains spoilers.
(Missing moment)
Rated: G
Author's Note: This is my first time writing fan fiction. I thought I'd start small and
see how it goes. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think in a review. Criticism
can only make me stronger! Hope you enjoy this little moment.
J62442
Hearing Voices
"Sirius", he heard clearly cutting through the still air.
It was evening at number 12 Grimmauld Place and the voice startled the man out of his quiet
and reflective reverie. He'd come up here to take care of some of Sirius' things; getting items
sorted and packed away. He'd hoped it would bring him some peace of mind and make
himself feel useful, but it hadn't. In fact, it did the complete opposite.
Rather than freeing his thoughts, the task had gotten them whirling; thoughts of should'ves
and could'ves all ending in feelings of guilt and remorse. When finally, his mind completely
exhausted, he put his head in his hands and slumped to the bed. And there he sat in
deafening silence for an immeasurable amount of time.
He merely existed in the stale room, as he inhaled and exhaled, but he certainly wasn't living.
With the zealous of life spilled from his body there seemed no end to the hopelessness he felt.
Sirius was gone and with him went the last remaining connection to something that resembled
family. But what really added to the pain was the sense of waste he felt. So mush time that
could have been spent in the comfort of friendship…no, brotherhood, was lost in his own
blindness. He had doubted Sirius when his friend had needed him the most.
His head jerked up from his hands when he heard Sirius' name called, startling his senses
awake. Suddenly, the room came back to life. The sound of the clock ticking in the corner
and the tap dripping in the next room seemed overwhelming to his ears.
The voice was unmistakeable. Yet, it was impossible for the owner of it to be here. It was
the last night of school term at Hogwarts and he wouldn't see him until the next day. But his
face scrunched in concern as he heard Harry speak again.
"Sirius Black", came Harry's voice just as clearly as it had the first time. However, this time
the notes of anger, desperation and frustration that were attached, could not be missed.
His eyes moved to where Harry's voice was coming from in the room. He stood up and
walked over to a chest of drawers and sitting on top was one of Sirius' two-way mirrors.
He looked at the mirror with confusion until the realization of what Harry was attempting to
do dawned on him. He had the overwhelming sensation of a rock slowly sinking to the pit of
his stomach.
Harry was trying to contact Sirius from the beyond.
In a split second a most troubling dilemma played through the man's mind. Do I pick up the
mirror and respond or not? If I pick up the mirror and respond, will I be interfering or be of any
comfort to this obviously grieving young man? Will he want to talk to me? Will I even know
what to say?
However, the decision was abruptly made for him as the sound of shattering glass filled the
air.
In an instance, he picked up the mirror off the dresser.
"Harry", he called into the mirror. But the only response he received was a mist of fog
created by his own breath as it hit the glass. The fog slowly dissolved to reveal the reflection
of a tired wizard who looked far too old for his age.
As he studied his tattered and ragged appearance, several emotions welled inside him, but
guilt rose above all. This was the guilt that came with the understanding that he did not have
a bond with Harry.
It had been his choice to stay away from the boy while lived with his Aunt and Uncle. It was
his choice to not connect with him when he returned to the wizarding world to attend
Hogwarts. It was his choice to watch from the sidelines during his third year as he played the
distance professor. Then, he'd felt too distant to from any kind of bond. Harry, he soon
discovered, had a life of his own. He had found family in his friends and the Weasley's. And
he was happy that Harry was loved and safe but sadly saw no place for a man of his
condition to interfere. But then Sirius returned and he assumed that he would get to know
Harry through his Godfather….
And now he was here. A place that left him in the position to become a parental figure to a
boy he barely knew, but should know inside-out. He owed that to his family. He owed it to
James, Lily and Sirius to make sure their son made it through this. He was, now, the only link
to Harry's past. But where to begin –how to begin? As a man fraught with a condition that
caused many problems, how, in Merlin's name, was he going to do this?
He looked into the mirror again, as if hoping it would have the answers. Perhaps a small
guide book: "How to help a hormonal teenage boy develop coping strategies that will aid him
in moving on from grief so he can save the world as you yourself deal with the emotional
impact that 14 or so years of isolation will do to a person". However, all that greeted him
was the scared face of a greying man.
But as he thought of that miraculous, non-existent book, he realized Harry and himself were
connected on some levels. Both understood the anger and frustration that came with forced
isolation and the hopelessness that followed. And now, as he grieved for his fallen brother
figure, Harry grieved for his fallen father figure. Sirius was his and Harry's only family, and in
essence, that made them family to each other.
With a heavy sigh, he continued to look into the mirror.
"Harry needs me", he said quietly to his own reflection. "But after so many loses and
disappointments in his past, will he ever let anyone be a part of his life again."
And with that final thought, Remus Lupin put the mirror back down on the dresser and
decided to call it a night.
Another Author's Note: I've been thinking of using this as a prologue to a "summer
after fifth year" fic. What do you think?
Thanks for reading!
J62442