Moonlight
Archive:
Padfoot...Snuffles, Behind the Veil, not p r o v e n guilty
Summary: Harry turns sixteen
Pairing: None
Disclaimer: JKR owns everything mentioned here, I don't
Spoilers: OotP
Author's notes: Dedicated to
Alice for the inspiration!
"I'm loving it
It's
gets under your skin. First I shed tears 'cause of sadness, but at
the end, I cried because of joy. Your fanfiction gives me my lost
hope back. Thank you. D" Alice
---------------------------------------------
Harry lay wide-awake in his bed. Leaning over slightly, he read the clockface - 1am. He had been 16 for a whole hour without even knowing it. Sitting up, he found his glasses. Never, since he had been at Hogwarts had Harry not noticed his birthday, but since the events of the last term, he wasn't really in the mood for celebrating. Looking up at the window, and the cloud-filled night sky, he saw the snow-white Hedwig flying nearer. Reaching for the window latch, slowly opening it, he stood back to let Hedwig fly in.
Landing on the bed, Hedwig was holding a large parcel. Moving slowly over to her, Harry's heart fell even further: his mind fixed on the presents Sirius had sent him, his eyes catching sight of his prized Firebolt stood up in the corner. Falling to his knees, burying his head in his arms, he sobbed. Only the sound of Hedwig hooting roused him. Slowly looking up, Harry noticed that moonlight was streaming in through his open window. "That's strange," he muttered, "it was cloudy when I looked out earlier".
Before he could stand up, another bird carrying a parcel appeared at the open window. Flying through, it dropped its package onto his bed and flew off, narrowly missing Pig who was struggling to fly through with his package. Catching the snitch-like owl, Harry unwrapped his gift from Ron - a large package of Bertie Botts sweets, and looked at the other package. Pushing his presents to the other side of his bed, Harry didn't feel like celebrating. In the last two years he had witnessed two deaths, and that was two too many. Images of Sirius had been haunting him each night, his nights disturbed by graveyards covered in black veils.
Slowly moving over to the window once more, he noticed that despite the full moon managing to shine through, the sky was still covered in cloud. Tears running down his face at the thought of the man he loved, he blinked hard. Shaking his head he looked again. A feint outline of a man was becoming clearer. Harry stared, as the figure became recognisable. Long black hair down either side of his handsome face, the man was saying something, but no sound was coming out.Blinking the tears out of his eyes, he shook his head. "I've got to stop imagining things" he muttered, as he looked out again. The image of a man was still there - looking exactly like Sirius, but how could it be?
Harry stared at the figure - it appeared more than an echo, more than a ghost: it looked real, alive. Leaning out of the window, he saw the figure move nearer, Harry managed to make out the words "make sure you read it", but they didn't make any sense to him. Suddenly, the man disappeared taking the moonlight with him. Confused, Harry flopped down onto the bed. "That was cruel," he thought, "me seeing Sirius when I know he is...", but he couldn't even finish his thoughts. Saying it out loud, or even thinking it would be to admit he knew it was true: that would be making it final, and he didn't feel up to that. Not today. In fact, would he ever?
Lying down, his head near the pillow, he felt the parcel Hedwig had delivered against his cheek. Suddenly Harry sat bolt upright, his mind racing once more. Feeling his cheek against the package - was that what the figure was referring to. Automatically, he felt his hands open the parcel, and pull out a leather-bound album, similar to that one Hagrid had given him with pictures of Harry's family.
Hands shaking he opened it, catching the note falling out: it was familiar writing, but not Sirius'. It seemed to be Lupin's writing, but why was Remus writing to him, and why in this book? With trembling hands, he picked up the note: stained with tears, but they didn't belong to Harry. Staring at the words, so tear-stained it was almost unreadable, he finally made it out:
"I came across this at Grimmauld
Place. Sirius told me he was making it as a special sixteenth
birthday gift for you. I know he would still want you to receive it,
so I am forwarding this to you. I hope you find it as useful as I
have.
Remus"
Harry's tears mixing with Moony's on the note, his eyes moved back to the album, which was open on the bed. Staring back at him was page after page of photos of his godfather waving back at him. Picking the leather-bound album up, but without quite knowing why, his hands automatically flicked through to the last page. Looking down at the right-hand corner of the page, something caught his eye.
It was the image he had seen out of the window: Sirius against a full moon, yet a cloudy sky. Blinking back those never-ending tears, he noticed Sirius had written something on the corner of the page. Screwing his eyes still further, Harry could just make out the tiny writing
"Don't worry Harry, I will return".
