A/N: I've been listening to Dave Gahan today and the song Down came along and made me sit down and type this out. I hope you'll enjoy it because it is extremely late where I'm at and I'm in a really rather weird state of mind.


Down, And The World Keeps Turning

October 31st was never a particularly good day for Harry Potter. And this one was no different from the last six, and way worse than the first four. For during the last two, Harry Potter had discovered the numbing effect alcohol had on his aching insides and the blissful oblivion it usually brought along with it.

Yes, during Halloween, Harry Potter was no stranger to the bottle.

A party was going on at the grim old place today, much to the mirth of its current residents – the Weasley's, more precisely Fred, George, Ron and Ginny, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley and its owner – Sirius Black.

Though Harry couldn't describe the latter's behaviour as 'mirthful', the tall, raven-haired man definitely did not argue with Hermione's idea of throwing a Halloween bash – they both figured a party would help them take their minds off whatever it was that lay ahead of them.

Much to everyone's dismay, Harry instantly made clear that he was not participating, but no one dared say a word to him, knowing full well how difficult Harry could be on this particular day, difficult being a serious understatement. But as long as no one bothered him, Harry usually made himself scarce and counted upon the rational minds of his friends that they would ask no questions.

Harry was sitting on the top step before the first landing and having his morning coffee in relative peace – relative being the key word when sharing a house with the Weasley twins. Harry was still chuckling at their antics which involved vanishing certain body parts and then horrified mock gasps pointed at each other, when his godfather descended from the topmost landing and settled on the steps next to him.

"Morning, Harry," Sirius greeted softly, running a hair through his wavy black hair, eyes slightly widening when he realized how long it was.

"Morning, Sirius," Harry replied quietly, smiling at his godfather. "Fancy a haircut, eh?"

Sirius smacked him on the back of his head lightly and let out a barking laugh.

"Just because I was thinking it, it doesn't mean you're allowed to say it, Jam—"

The older man stopped mid-name, gray eyes wide with shock. His hand clamped over his mouth but it was too late. His godson gave him a puzzled look and laid his hand on top of his, pulling it down.

"It's okay," Harry breathed, "I know you probably can't get your mind off them today, either." His lips curled into a small, forgiving smile, but it failed to reach his eyes.

Lilly's eyes looked back at Sirius, but deeper and darker than he had ever seen them before. Harry's face was a carefully arranged mask, but Sirius' mistake made it possible for him to see right through it. Sirius studied Harry's face as that mask faltered and slowly crumbled to bits as his godson shot up from his perch and retired to his room. Sirius banged his head against the mahogany banister and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Sirius, you senile, old fool," the animagus whispered hoarsely and stood up, descending to the kitchen.

"Morning, Sirius," Hermione chirped from behind her newspaper, but Sirius stalked right past her, towards the cabinet at the far end of the spacious room and pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey, storing it inside the folds of his robe.

"Dunno what's so damned good about it," he replied as he passed the baffled witch and locked himself inside his bedchamber.

Realizing Harry and Sirius won't be joining them tonight, the rest had started their little party, a few of the other Order members showing up as time passed.

Music was playing and enchanted ornaments were zooming all over the no longer gloomy drawing room, but the cheerful atmosphere did not reach the topmost landing where Sirius reclined with a bottle gripped firmly in his hand nor did it reach the great cavernous space of the kitchen in the basement of the house.

Harry drove Kreacher out of his cupboard to ensure he had complete privacy before he conjured a comfy red armchair for himself and fell on it in exhaustion. That damned house-elf pulled on his last nerve.

But it didn't matter anymore; he was finally alone and was finally allowed to wallow as he'd been yearning to this entire day.

Harry loved his friends, his godfather – he loved Sirius so much.

Sirius.

Sirius was the only thing Harry had left from his parents. Sirius and Remus, the Marauders. But Sirius, Harry had no idea why he clung to him as hard as he did. On one hand, it was completely understandable, he was his godfather after all, but somewhere deep inside, Harry knew there was more to it.

He just wasn't drunk enough to admit it to himself just yet.

With that Harry took yet another swig off his Firewhiskey. When he roamed the kitchen cabinet he expected to find at least two bottles leftover from the party upstairs, but curiously, there was only one. Harry simply concluded he would have to eat less and drink faster. His yearly dose of oblivion was long overdue already.

As he sat and studied the fire, quietly swigging his whiskey and thinking about seeing his parents' faces in the mirror of Erised, Harry found himself feeling lonely. The kind of cold only loneliness could spread throughout his body overtook him and Harry shivered despite the warmth of the orange flames caressing his face and body.

On some lever, Harry knew it was the combined effort of this particular evening and the alcohol that was getting to him, but the thoughts swirling inside his head were getting darker and darker. His magic crackled around him as it settled over his body like a heavy cloak of sadness. It felt it too – the gaping hole inside Harry's chest that threatened to swallow him from inside out. It mourned with him, and it was the very same reason why his parents were dead. Blasted irony.

Harry sank deeper in his chair, bringing the bottle to his lips yet again. The clear amber liquid swished around the half empty bottle as he lifted it up to examine it. Not nearly enough, Harry thought bitterly, but drank more nevertheless.

Numb it, just numb it already.

Several levels above Harry's head, Sirius was thinking just the same and he stood from the bed reluctantly, and wobble his way down to the kitchen in search for more. Even secretly hoping he'd stumble upon of the party-goers and they would drag him into the drawing room and make him forget everything with their merry chatter.

No such thing happened and Sirius made his way to the kitchen undisturbed. A shadow of a movement made his eyes focus on the large chair in front of the fire. A familiar head of messy hair was peering from behind it, tiling back slightly as his godson brought a half empty bottle to his lips.

Without thinking, Sirius frowned and crossed the space between him and the chair in a few long strides, clearing his throat angrily.

He was fully prepared to rid Harry of the bottle he was holding and tell him off. But the look of anguish on his godson's face that met him once he turned to him made Sirius recoil his reaching hand and clench it into a fist as it fell to his side.

He reached for the back of the chair to hold himself steady as the alcohol in his blood rebelled against his sense of balance. Harry got on his knees on the armchair and peered into his godfather's face, mere inches away. Green haunted eyes that threatened to smother him.

"You wanted to scold me for drinking while you yourself are piss fucking drunk?"

Sirius sputtered, frowning at his godson's vocabulary, but couldn't find a proper reply so he simply stared back at him trying to at least appear angry when in fact he was everything but.

I need some company,
I need you tonight
You don't have to talk to me,
And don't be polite.
Take my body and soul
I feel so old.

He was infuriated because Harry had to mourn like this. He was devastated because he so desperately wanted to scoop him up in his arms but was afraid of what he would do to this delicate creature before him. He was lonely, but he couldn't afford to reach out to the one person he needed the most. He was afraid because the alcohol in his blood stream was making him lose control and he simply couldn't afford to slip, couldn't afford to hurt—

"Harry!"

The bodies of godson and godfather collapsed to the hard stone floor with a painful thud as Harry pressed his lips to Sirius' suddenly, mind screaming at him and his body screaming back in its own pitch. Harry's eyes snapped open and he pulled back when he felt Sirius kiss him back fervently, urgently almost.

Down
On the ground,
It's where I'm bound
To end up by morning.
Down.

His hips straddled Sirius' waist, green eyes searching out his grays timidly. Sirius moved to brush a stray strand of hair out of Harry's face, but Harry flinched back, standing up and quickly falling back down in the process. His vision blurred as his movements became excruciatingly unfocused and slow. Harry cursed under his breath as he scrambled closer to the fire, eyes never leaving Sirius' sitting form.

Sirius merely sat there, in the middle of the kitchen, his head and back throbbing and with burning lips. Mounting desire overtook him as his eyes sought to find Harry's.

The boy was a shivering mess, desperately scooting himself closer to the fireplace.

"Sirius," he breathed quietly, "Sirius, I am so sorry," he added with a slight slur to his words, green orbs desperately searching Sirius' own grays for understanding and forgiveness.

Sirius neared him slowly, inch by inch and sank back to the floor right next to him.

"Sirius, please, say something, please, "Harry pleaded, his hands pulling at the front of Sirius' robes desperately. He had to know if he'd just lost his godfather as well. All because of his inability to cope with loneliness.

Just lay down beside of me,
You know what I like.
Take what you want from me,
We don't have to fight.
Take my body and soul
I feel so old.

Sirius did what he wanted to do in the first place – he scooped the younger man in his arms and held him close to his chest until his breathing evened out and he could force him to look into his eyes once again.

He didn't speak, mostly because he couldn't find the words, but also because he really didn't need to. For the first time Sirius didn't have to utter a single word to make himself clear. The wetness in Harry's eyes glimmered in the sheltered darkness of his chest and Sirius inclined his head to capture the boy's lips in a slow, languid kiss.

They pulled each other back down to the ground.

And you comfort me
Until my legs go weak.
Hold me closer,
We won't speak.

Harry clawed at Sirius' clothing as Sirius himself fought with Harry's garments. Finally they both settled for tearing the clothes off each other's chests and pulling at their pants until they finally gave in. Harry's skin exploded in goose-bumps once he was finally completely exposed under the lustful gaze of his godfather, the skin of his back met with the unforgiving cold of the stone floor.

Sirius picked him up from the ground and carried him to the soft armchair, placing him on top of his lap when he settled in it.

Harry gasped at the intimate contact and fused his lips back to Sirius' just to avoid looking into those piercing metallic eyes. But Sirius wanted to see the haunted look behind Harry's greens disappear and he pushed the boy's head away until he was forced to look at him. Harry bit into his lower lip apprehensively , pallid cheeks blushing from the intensity in the elder's gaze, hands resting against Sirius' tattooed chest.

Sirius brought his finger to Harry's lips and stroked the swollen red flesh, pushing in slowly, first one, then two. Harry's entire body shook when Sirius trailed his wet finger down his gasping chest, over his abs and all the way down to the place where Harry couldn't see them anymore. He gasped at the sudden intrusion of those same fingers into his body. His head whipped up to look at Sirius' face. His eyes were still focused on Harry and Harry's face drowned in all shades of red yet again. Sirius smiled softly at him, seeking approval in his godson's features. And he got it as Harry's body began to move over his and his slender fingers wrapped around his length timidly, starting to stroke Sirius softly.

The look of absolute trust on Harry's face drove Sirius insane as he gripped him with his free hand and pulled him in for another urgent, almost violent kiss. Harry pulled back, gaining confidence as Sirius' pants grew in frequency.

Sirius grabbed Harry's hips and lifted him up to position himself against him. Harry tangled his fingers into Sirius' black locks, flushed face shiny with perspiration.

Sirius growled silently and pushed in, waiting for Harry to relax around him before pulling out and pushing back in yet again, his pace growing faster and faster as Harry's body began to react. The younger man pulled at his hair as he stared at him, a hungry, ravenous look in his eyes. He needed the void inside him to be filled, he needed that gaping hole to disappear before the ball of searing white that nestled in the pit of his stomach and Harry leaned forward and bit into Sirius' shoulder as his body began to convulse, his stomach constrict and every muscle in his legs implode to a mush as he exploded like the Sun. Sirius cried out at the pain in his shoulder and thrust harder as Harry's walls clenched around him making him cry out once more, but in pleasure as his entire body melted beneath the fierce warmth of the body leaning against him.

Both bodies slid once more to the ground in search of something to alleviate the raging fire inside of them.

Oh, we all keep falling,
All down,
And the world keeps turning.

Their eyes met as they realized what had just transpired between them. Harry scooted closer to Sirius' naked figure, his face hovering above that of his godfather, eyes full of questions, questions Sirius hadn't the answers to.


review to tell me it wasn't too bad? :P