Slightly A/U – Sirius is still alive. After the events of HBP Sirius and Remus comfort Harry when he can't sleep.
Harry was up again. Sirius could hear him, wandering about in the kitchen. It sounded like he was getting himself a drink. Sirius desperately tried to imagine Harry would get himself a Butterbeer; Harry had always loved Butterbeer. Harry was trying to be quiet and Sirius could tell that it was working, for the most part (Sirius happily imagined that Harry's night time wanderings at Hogwarts would have come in useful) but Sirius had a sixth sense when it came to his godson. He tended to be aware if Harry was awake, even if it was, Sirius glanced at his watch, two in the morning.
Sirius groaned. He did love his godson but it was nice and warm in his bed and cold outside. Sirius groaned again and rolled out of bed; he did love his godson after all. Sirius stumbled down the stairs, not nearly as quiet as Harry had been. He pushed open the kitchen door, some small part of his mind telling him that his dear mother would have had a fit if she knew he'd gone to the place that only house-elves were supposed to tread. To his surprise, Sirius saw that he wasn't the only one who had heard Harry. Remus was there as well, trying to keep Harry away from the Firewhiskey.
Merlin, Sirius thought, Firewhiskey again. It must be a bad night. Again. Damn it.
"Harry," Remus was pleading as Sirius arrived, but Harry had a wild, angry look in his eyes that Sirius knew all too well. They would have a hard time reasoning with Harry tonight. "Harry please don't do this. Getting drunk won't make it better, Harry, it won't change anything. Believe me, I know what you feel like and I know it won't help. Harry, Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted …" Sirius winced as Remus trailed off, realising his mistake. Worst possible thing to say, Moony. And you were always the one who was good at this stuff.
Sirius stepped forward intending to say, well, he hadn't really thought of anything to say, but he needed to say something. Harry got there before him. "Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted? Really? Y'think? Don't you think I feel guilty enough Remus? Want to pile on a little more?" Harry snorted. "There are lots of things Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted. I reckon Dumbledore would rather be alive right now. Rather that he had been right about Snape and that he really was a good guy. That Snape wasn't secretly planning to murder him. I bet he would rather that Tom Riddle had never become Voldemort and murdered all those people. That he never had to deal with a messed up little orphan with a hero complex. But it happened. What Dumbledore wanted doesn't come into it."
"You're not a 'messed up orphan with a hero complex'," said Sirius, his brain latching on to the first thing it came to,
"Of course I am," Harry replied as if he was talking to an idiot. "I'm an orphan, I am most definitely messed up. The Dursleys made sure of that before I even got to Hogwarts and after I got there …" Harry shuddered. "And I have one hell of a hero complex, had one since I was eleven for Merlin's sake. Hermione calls it my 'saving people thing'. And it was that hero complex that nearly got you killed Sirius, so don't you dare go and tell me I haven't got one."
Sirius didn't know what to say that. All of what Harry had said was true, in a way. Part of the problem was that he didn't see almost getting killed as a big a thing as Harry did, because to him it didn't seem like that. One second he had been fighting Bellatrix, the next second he was standing in the same room with some of the Order around him, and Harry. Harry now a little older, a little sadder, those beautiful eyes sunk a little deeper.
And now … those eyes. If Sirius had thought they looked sunken when he had been rescued from the veil it was nothing to how they looked now, and for that Sirius hated Albus Dumbledore. Hated him for dying, for scarring his Harry even more. Hated him for making Harry care about him and then leaving Harry. Hated him for trusting Snape, for having to believe there was good everyone. Hated him for leaving Harry with an impossible task. Hated him for not being the invincible god he was supposed to be, for being, in the end, only human.
"Harry, none of it was your fault. Dumbledore's death wasn't your fault." Remus was saying.
Harry had a strange dead look in his eyes, "No?" he said in a faraway voice. "No I don't suppose it was. I suppose that if you look at it logically it was Snape's fault; he shot the curse after all," Harry turned on them, suddenly angry. "But d'you really think that makes me feel any better about it? Dumbledore's gone, he's dead, he is no more. I loved him. I loved him like family and now all that's left of him is a rotting corpse in a gleaming grave."
Sirius wrapped his arms around Harry, knowing there was nothing he could do. "Y'know, when you were a baby," he said, "you were so small, so vulnerable. You were what we were all fighting for, that hope for a better future. But when you were a baby … when you cried, when you were hurt, all I had to do was pick you up. Whisper soothingly and I could make all your pain go away." Sirius looked at his godson. "I can't now, your problems are too big, bigger than being a little hungry, or lonely, or wanting a hug. I can't make your pain go away, but by Merlin I wish I could. I would do anything. If I could take the weight of all your troubles I would. I'm here for you Harry, I can give you that. You're not alone, there's me, Remus, Ron and Hermione. All of the Weasleys in fact."
Harry looked up to him with wide, trusting eyes and for a moment Sirius knew he could relieve Harry's pain. He couldn't make it go away, Sirius knew there wasn't a power in the world that could do that. Damn the world. But for a moment Harry's load was a little lighter. "Thank you." Harry whispered and relaxed into Sirius' embrace. "I miss him, Sirius," Harry said quietly, "but I know he would've have been so sad and disappointed to see me like this. I know what he would have said to me," Harry smiled slightly, recalling what Dumbledore had said so long ago, "Do you think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us?" Sirius smiled and held Harry a little tighter. The battle had been won for this night.
Neither Harry nor Sirius moved until dawn. They didn't notice Remus leaving the kitchen, a small smile on his face as he saw Harry sleeping on his godfather's shoulder. Sirius sighed and looked at the rising sun. They would have to face reality again.
Damn reality.
