You've always Known
Harry lay in bed. The bed that he had always laid in, and his godfather before him. On Grimmauld place.
He would have preferred a four-poster bed. Something to hide behind at night when the tears came. To hide from Ron with. To hide from the world with.
He turned on his side. The side facing the wall, and not his best friend who tried hard to pretend that he didn't notice the tears running down his face.
Ron wasn't the biggest sympathetic person in the world. He seemed to find it easier to avert his eyes whenever the subject of Sirius arouse when Harry was in the room. Or period. He couldn't be sure.
But for once, he spoke to him. His voice sounded a bit hoarse, and hesitant, like he didn't know whether he would be helping things or making them worse.
"H- He use to talk to you when you were asleep, you know?"
Harry turned his eyes as far left as they would go without actually turning his head. He made a watery questioning noise, not trusting himself to speak.
"You were such a heavy sleeper, you didn't notice." Ron sniffed. Harry couldn't tell if it was tears or some sort of cold or allergies. "I heard him though. Every night. He'd come in and..."
Another questioning noise. He didn't trust himself to speak because he was already so emotional, he didn't think he could stand to hear about Sirius without crying harder.
"He said all of the stuff that he couldn't say to you when you were awake. He would sit on the side of your bed with a hand on your shoulder with his head down like he was crying." Harry heard another sniff. He dared to turn his head, wiping away the tears from his already blurry eyes. He still couldn't tell whether or not Ron was crying.
"What did he say?" His voice wavered like a seesaw.
Ron was staring up at the ceiling, not daring to face him.
"All of the things that no one's ever told me. He'd talk about how he used to sit for you as a baby, and talk about how your first words were his name. How he had l-loved you since you were a b-baby.
"H-He he di-did?"
"Of course, Harry. He loved you. He would say that you were the most important thing in his life. How the only way he had gotten through Azkaban was wondering how your life was going. How that was the only way he managed to stand his Mother's picture when we were at Hogwarts."
"Why didn't he just tell me this when I was awake?"
"He was afraid to, Harry."
"What? Why?"
"Because he didn't want to find out that he wasn't as important to you as you were to him"
"That's stupid! Of course he was! He still is."
"You never told him."
There was an uncomfortable pause as that sunk in, and the realization...
"If- you know – if I had told him that... do you think he would have stayed back. Not gone to the Department of Mysteries that night? Could I have prevented it?" There was a desperation in his voice. He needed to be told no as much as he need to know the truth.
"It wouldn't have made the slightest difference." He was returned by firmness.
"How do you know? I could have stopped him! He- he wouldn't be dead right now. Why didn't I just tell-"
"Harry! I'm telling you! It wouldn't have made any difference."
"You don't know that!"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"How?"
"Because the last thing he would tell you each night before he left... was that he would have died for you... regardless of whatever the circumstances. He probably would have jumped in the way of any curse thrown at you, Harry."
"Just like mum." He whispered just loud enough for Ron to hear. "But still-
He heard Ron turn restlessly and make a noise of frustration.
"God! Stop having a goddamn pity-party for yourself and think about it, Harry! You always mope around the house! You're always so depressed! Why? Do you realize how many people cared enough about you to die for you? Three people. I know you don't like being the center of attention. But you had three people who cared enough about you that they would sacrifice themselves, just so that you could live. Not because they wanted you to defeat Voldemort. Not because they thought you were famous. But because they loved you that much. Why do you take that for granted?"
There was anger in his voice. Anger that made the tears pour down Harry's face harder then ever, because he knew it was true.
"You have tons of people who would do the same for you."
"But they haven't. No one has. You don't know how far someone would go until the moment of truth. I mean, I have six other siblings. Neither of my parents would have sacrificed themselves and left the other six. Neither of my parents ever come into my room at night."
There was a silence. Harry knew neither what to say, nor what to do. Ron was probably right. He couldn't believe that Ron's parents would have taken their own lives for just one of their kids, leaving behind the rest of them.
"Don't you think one of your older brothers would?"
"No. To tell you the truth, I don't think that they care enough about me to die for me."
"But I would-"
"Don't kid yourself Harry. You know that you're going to save the world one day. You would just about sign my death certificate anyway if you died in my place. Someone would probably kill me out of spite. Greater good and all that."
"Hermione might."
"I doubt that."
"I don't. I mean, she loves you and everything. Like a friend I mean."
"She wouldn't die for me. Believe me, Harry. She wouldn't."
Harry had run out of people.
"I'm sorry, Ron."
"It's all right. I've come to accept it."
"Ron, I want you to trust me. It isn't a picnic... having someone die for you."
"I guess you're right. But... It would be nice. Being loved like that. Like Sirius loved you." And with that, he realized what his fault had been. He had always wanted Ron's parents. Ron's family, because they were so big, and everyone loved one another. Ron was jealous of him? Because he didn't have eight people who equally loved him a lot, but one person who loved him more then life.
"It is. I just wish I had realized before he died."
"I think you've always known, Harry. You must have known."
"I guess I did."
Notes: Just a one-shot that I wrote one night. I think it probably would have been more suitable when everyone was write those 'Pity Harry! He just lost his Godfather! Woe is him' fics, but I just started thinking that no one really gets the positive aspect of it. Harry coming to except that at least he was loved. I think this proves that I don't treat Ron that good in my stories, huh? Please review! I'd like your opinion on this. I'm thinking of taking this down. It the only thing I've ever posted after only working on it for one day. I've been writing this in my head for a while though.
Harry lay in bed. The bed that he had always laid in, and his godfather before him. On Grimmauld place.
He would have preferred a four-poster bed. Something to hide behind at night when the tears came. To hide from Ron with. To hide from the world with.
He turned on his side. The side facing the wall, and not his best friend who tried hard to pretend that he didn't notice the tears running down his face.
Ron wasn't the biggest sympathetic person in the world. He seemed to find it easier to avert his eyes whenever the subject of Sirius arouse when Harry was in the room. Or period. He couldn't be sure.
But for once, he spoke to him. His voice sounded a bit hoarse, and hesitant, like he didn't know whether he would be helping things or making them worse.
"H- He use to talk to you when you were asleep, you know?"
Harry turned his eyes as far left as they would go without actually turning his head. He made a watery questioning noise, not trusting himself to speak.
"You were such a heavy sleeper, you didn't notice." Ron sniffed. Harry couldn't tell if it was tears or some sort of cold or allergies. "I heard him though. Every night. He'd come in and..."
Another questioning noise. He didn't trust himself to speak because he was already so emotional, he didn't think he could stand to hear about Sirius without crying harder.
"He said all of the stuff that he couldn't say to you when you were awake. He would sit on the side of your bed with a hand on your shoulder with his head down like he was crying." Harry heard another sniff. He dared to turn his head, wiping away the tears from his already blurry eyes. He still couldn't tell whether or not Ron was crying.
"What did he say?" His voice wavered like a seesaw.
Ron was staring up at the ceiling, not daring to face him.
"All of the things that no one's ever told me. He'd talk about how he used to sit for you as a baby, and talk about how your first words were his name. How he had l-loved you since you were a b-baby.
"H-He he di-did?"
"Of course, Harry. He loved you. He would say that you were the most important thing in his life. How the only way he had gotten through Azkaban was wondering how your life was going. How that was the only way he managed to stand his Mother's picture when we were at Hogwarts."
"Why didn't he just tell me this when I was awake?"
"He was afraid to, Harry."
"What? Why?"
"Because he didn't want to find out that he wasn't as important to you as you were to him"
"That's stupid! Of course he was! He still is."
"You never told him."
There was an uncomfortable pause as that sunk in, and the realization...
"If- you know – if I had told him that... do you think he would have stayed back. Not gone to the Department of Mysteries that night? Could I have prevented it?" There was a desperation in his voice. He needed to be told no as much as he need to know the truth.
"It wouldn't have made the slightest difference." He was returned by firmness.
"How do you know? I could have stopped him! He- he wouldn't be dead right now. Why didn't I just tell-"
"Harry! I'm telling you! It wouldn't have made any difference."
"You don't know that!"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"How?"
"Because the last thing he would tell you each night before he left... was that he would have died for you... regardless of whatever the circumstances. He probably would have jumped in the way of any curse thrown at you, Harry."
"Just like mum." He whispered just loud enough for Ron to hear. "But still-
He heard Ron turn restlessly and make a noise of frustration.
"God! Stop having a goddamn pity-party for yourself and think about it, Harry! You always mope around the house! You're always so depressed! Why? Do you realize how many people cared enough about you to die for you? Three people. I know you don't like being the center of attention. But you had three people who cared enough about you that they would sacrifice themselves, just so that you could live. Not because they wanted you to defeat Voldemort. Not because they thought you were famous. But because they loved you that much. Why do you take that for granted?"
There was anger in his voice. Anger that made the tears pour down Harry's face harder then ever, because he knew it was true.
"You have tons of people who would do the same for you."
"But they haven't. No one has. You don't know how far someone would go until the moment of truth. I mean, I have six other siblings. Neither of my parents would have sacrificed themselves and left the other six. Neither of my parents ever come into my room at night."
There was a silence. Harry knew neither what to say, nor what to do. Ron was probably right. He couldn't believe that Ron's parents would have taken their own lives for just one of their kids, leaving behind the rest of them.
"Don't you think one of your older brothers would?"
"No. To tell you the truth, I don't think that they care enough about me to die for me."
"But I would-"
"Don't kid yourself Harry. You know that you're going to save the world one day. You would just about sign my death certificate anyway if you died in my place. Someone would probably kill me out of spite. Greater good and all that."
"Hermione might."
"I doubt that."
"I don't. I mean, she loves you and everything. Like a friend I mean."
"She wouldn't die for me. Believe me, Harry. She wouldn't."
Harry had run out of people.
"I'm sorry, Ron."
"It's all right. I've come to accept it."
"Ron, I want you to trust me. It isn't a picnic... having someone die for you."
"I guess you're right. But... It would be nice. Being loved like that. Like Sirius loved you." And with that, he realized what his fault had been. He had always wanted Ron's parents. Ron's family, because they were so big, and everyone loved one another. Ron was jealous of him? Because he didn't have eight people who equally loved him a lot, but one person who loved him more then life.
"It is. I just wish I had realized before he died."
"I think you've always known, Harry. You must have known."
"I guess I did."
Notes: Just a one-shot that I wrote one night. I think it probably would have been more suitable when everyone was write those 'Pity Harry! He just lost his Godfather! Woe is him' fics, but I just started thinking that no one really gets the positive aspect of it. Harry coming to except that at least he was loved. I think this proves that I don't treat Ron that good in my stories, huh? Please review! I'd like your opinion on this. I'm thinking of taking this down. It the only thing I've ever posted after only working on it for one day. I've been writing this in my head for a while though.