My Fault
AN: This story takes place after OOP and I wrote it a couple of years ago so I don't know if it's any good, you're the judge, but, Enjoy!
Harry Potter had spent the entire summer in his room at Privet Drive, he didn't come down for food, he only left his room when he had to use the bathroom. The Dursleys didn't complain, they had never liked him, and now that they never saw him they liked him better. Uncle Vernon had at first asked him if he wanted to come down to dinner, but Harry knew that he only wanted to make sure Harry didn't write to Moody and the other that they were treating him badly.
Harry just laid on his bed and tried not to think about his godfather who were now somewhere he couldn't reach. It didn't matter what everybody told him, Sirius had died because of him. In the days it was easier to avoid thinking about him, but in the nights the drams haunted him. Dreams that always ended the same way, him, Harry killing Sirius in some way. And right before Sirius died he always looked so disappointed at Harry. He hadn't dreamt a single different dream since Sirius had died.
He had got letters from everybody he cared about, they all kept saying that he shouldn't keep beating himself up, but it was hard not to. He always answered that he was fine, that he wasn't beating himself up and that the Dursleys was treating him fine. They obviously didn't believe him, but they let him be.
The Weasley family would come and pick him up in one hour, but for the first time since he had gotten to know Ron, he didn't look forward to it.
When he and mr Weasley arrived at the burrow he went straight to bed before anyone had time to ask him questions, he was to tired to answer them. Maybe tomorrow he would have the strength to answer them, but it felt like he would never have the strength.
The next morning at breakfast he only poked his food. He could feel how they all looked at him, so he ate a toast but he felt like the pieces only got bigger in his mouth. Everybody were quiet and to lighten up his mood mrs Weasley declared that this Saturday they would throw him a birthday party. Harry didn't really want to, but he answered: 'That sounds great mrs Weasley,' and tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.
Harry left the table and mrs Weasley gave her husband a worried look.
Ron came up to the room they shared and asked if he wanted to play Quiditch with them, but Harry didn't feel like it. Ginny came and asked him if he wanted to clean out garden gnomes, but he was to tired, he hadn't been able to sleep very well since he didn't want Ron to know that he had nightmares every night.
Most of the time he sat in his and Ron's room and tried to read. Sometimes he actually could let go of every other thought and concentrate on the book, but sometimes he just felt like he would like to jump out the window head first. When that feeling came he splashed some water at his face and then tried to read again.
On the evening before his birthday party, Hermione arrived at the burrow. She didn't care about what Harry said, she spent time with him anyway. It was both frustrating and nice. Everyone else walked like on glass around him, but Hermione were her normal self and Ron relaxed a bit too with her there.
At the party Harry was chocked when he saw how many mrs Weasley had invited. Prof. Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley and all of the Weasley brothers (except Percy).
They ate first and mrs Weasley had once again made a wonderful dinner, but Harry could only eat very little and he tried to talk to everybody but it was hard to pretend to be all happy and joyful when you weren't.
When dinner and cake had been eaten everybody would give Harry their presents, but Lupin pulled Harry aside. 'Do you mind if I have a word?' Harry couldn't come up with an excuse not to fast enough so he followed Lupin in to the house. They stopped in the living room and Lupin turned to Harry.
When he looked at Lupin properly he could see that he looked just as bad as himself. He looked tired and skinny, even more than after his transformation, so Harry assumed that Lupin was hurting just as much as he did.
'First of all I have to tell you that they found Sirius will,' Lupin started and tried to catch Harry's eyes, but Harry couldn't meet his eyes. 'He left everything to you, including Grimauld Place.' Harry bit down his teeth.
'I don't want it, any of it,' he said and looked away. 'You can have it, you have more use for it than me.'
'Harry I can't take it, it's yours. And second of all I'd like to give you your gift, it's from Sirius and he me, he asked me to buy it for you last year since he couldn't himself.' He handed Harry the gift and Harry looked down at it before he took it without opening it.
'I'd like to be alone when I open it,' he said as an answer to Lupin's questioning look.
'Harry, you don't seem to be enjoying your birthday, may I ask why?' Lupin asked.
Harry took a deep breath and answered: 'I just don't understand why to celebrate the day when all the misery began.'
Lupin looked at Harry with chock. 'What in Merlin's name do you mean?' Harry looked up at Lupin and Lupin was even more chocked when he saw the pain in the boy's eyes.
'I'm the reason for my parents and Sirius deaths, so I don't understand why you do this when I'm the reason you don't have any of your friends left.'
Tears started to fall down Harry's cheeks, tears that had longed to come out for a long time. 'Harry I don't blame you for any of their deaths,' Lupin said and grabbed Harry by his shoulders. 'Voldemort killed your parents, not you. Bellatrix killed Sirius, not you.' Harry tried to get away from his grip, but was unsuccessful.
'I know I didn't kill them, but I'm the reason Voldemort came that night, and I'm the reason Sirius came to the Department of Mysteries. Everything is my fault,' Harry said and buried his face in his hands. The tears now fell without stop.
Lupin let go of his shoulders and embraced Harry. When he spoke Harry could hear the tears in his voice. 'I don't ever want to hear you say such things again. You can't blame yourself for Voldemorts actions. I don't understand how you could think that I'd care less about you just because Sirius is dead, I admit that I do miss him, a lot, but that doesn't mean I'll care any less about you.'
Later that night when Harry sat on his bed he felt relieved. Relieved because Lupin didn't hate him, and relieved because he had finally gotten to express his feelings.
He still thought it was his fault that Sirius died, but for now he could live with it.