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Black Failure
By: ChoCedric
Sirius Black felt a true kinship with Harry Potter as he sat at the table at 12, Grimmauld Place, a house he hated with all of his soul. Poor Harry had been trapped at 4 Privet Drive for an entire month, not hearing of anything that had been going on, and Sirius deeply sympathized with him.
As he'd told Harry earlier, he would have welcomed a dementor attack, just so that he could get out and do something. He felt entirely useless, sitting in this hellhole of a house and doing nothing. He felt happiest when there were a lot of people in the house, all talking and trying to laugh. But the atmosphere was still a tense one, now that the Second War with Voldemort was going to start soon, as soon as the Ministry believed it.
Dinner had just finished, and Mrs. Weasley said, "Nearly time for bed, I think."
"Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and looking at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."
The atmosphere in the room grew darker. It was as though a dementor had entered, and Sirius couldn't help a shudder going through him. Even though he kept his bravado, inside he was terrified. Would he lose Harry to this war, just like he'd lost Lily and James?
"I did!" said Harry angrily. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so ..."
"And they're quite right," said Mrs. Weasley sharply. "You're too young." She was sitting bolt upright, her hands curled into fists.
"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen ..."
And he believed what he was saying with all his being. Harry had seen firsthand what horrors Voldemort could unleash; he would bet a million galleons that the boy had nightmares of Cedric Diggory's blank, lifeless eyes staring at the night sky after that bastard Wormtail had killed him. And oh, God, just the thought of Harry seeing Lily and James coming out of Voldemort's wand ... it choked him up with raw emotion.
"Hang on!" shouted George loudly.
"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" asked Fred furiously.
"WE'VE been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" said George.
""You're too young, you're not in the Order,"" Fred mimicked Mrs. Weasley. "Harry's not even of age!"
"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing," said Sirius calmly. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand ..."
"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley dangerously. Sirius felt a bubble of resentment grow within him. What right did Molly Weasley have to say this, when Harry was his responsibility? "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"
"Which bit?" asked Sirius politely, but with an air of viciousness in his voice. He was so angry with Dumbledore right now; it was entirely the Headmaster's fault that he was locked up here in this damned house, with his filthy house-elf and his bitch of a mother.
"The bit about not telling Harry more than he NEEDS TO KNOW," said Mrs. Weasley.
"I don't intend to tell him more than he NEEDS TO KNOW, Molly," said Sirius. "But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back" (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name), "he has more right than most to ..."
"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" said Mrs. Weasley. "He's only fifteen and ..."
What did age matter? thought Sirius disgustedly. He'd seen a dead body before. He had the right to know what his enemy was doing, the same enemy who had ordered the death of a classmate right in front of Harry. "And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order," he argued, "and more than some ..."
"No one's denying what he's done!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, her fists still clenched on the arms of her chair. "But he's still ..."
"He's not a child!" yelled Sirius, impatience brimming within him.
"He's not an adult, either!" screamed Mrs. Weasley. "He's not JAMES, Sirius!"
Fury roiled in Sirius, and he wanted to smack the woman for saying such a thing. It brought all the bad memories back, making him relive seeing James's cold, lifeless body lying on the floor. He remembered clutching James's limp hand, tearfully begging his friend to wake up. He remembered hugging the man to him, whispering how sorry he was over and over again. How dare Molly Weasley make him feel this way! He knew exactly who Harry was, and seeing Lily's eyes in James's face made him feel desolate and miserable sometimes.
"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," he snarled. "I'm not sure you are!" shrieked Mrs. Weasley. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"
And what if I want to think that? thought Sirius viciously. He missed James so incredibly, and the constant ache in his heart just would not dim. What was wrong with soothing it a little by having someone around who he could joke with, laugh with, and take care of? It had been so long since he'd cared for anyone, why was Mrs. Weasley wanting to make him even more misery-filled in this stupid, sodding house?
Harry echoed Sirius's feelings by saying, "What's wrong with that?" making the man feel a surge of affection for him.
"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are NOT your father, however much you might look like him!" said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes still boring into Sirius. "You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"
"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" bellowed Sirius, his anger getting the better of him.
"Meaning you've been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and ..." Mrs. Weasley shouted back.
"We'll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!" said Sirius loudly.
"Arthur!" cried Mrs. Weasley. "Arthur, back me up!"
Mr. Weasley cleaned his glasses, placed them back on, and finally said, "Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in to a certain extent now that he is staying at headquarters ..."
"Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!"
"Personally," said Remus quietly, looking away from Sirius, "I think it better that Harry gets the facts--not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture--from us, rather than a garbled version from ... others."
"Well," huffed Mrs. Weasley, staring around the table at everyone, "well ... I can see I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has got Harry's best interests at heart ..."
"He's not your son," growled Sirius quietly.
"He's as good as," replied Mrs. Weasley. "Who else has he got?"
"He's got me!" Sirius roared, the anger returning to him full-force.
"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley with a curled lip. "The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"
The urge to punch Mrs. Weasley was exceedingly violent. He began to rise from his chair, the urges getting the best of him. How dare she remind him of the time he'd wasted away in Azkaban, reliving his worst memories! And in his own home as well! He had a right mind to kick her out right now!
But underneath the anger was a mountain of terrible, agonizing guilt. Mrs. Weasley was right; he'd acted rashly and gone chasing after Peter when there was Harry to take care of. It was all his fault, and he tried hard to fight the tears that so desperately wanted to fall. Why did she have to remind him that he'd completely and utterly failed Lily, James, and his godson to boot?
"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," said Remus sharply. "Sirius, sit DOWN."
Mrs. Weasley's bottom lip was trembling. Let her cry, Sirius thought snidely. She hasn't been through anything I have. She doesn't know what it's like to see her best friend with his eyes wide open, staring at the night sky, that look upon his face ... oh, God. She hasn't hid out in caves, eaten rats for her children. She hasn't had to stay in a place for twelve years with soul-sucking fiends. He sank slowly into his seat, the memories and the guilt overwhelming him.
"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Remus continued. "He's old enough to decide for himself."
"I want to know what's been going on," Harry said at once.
"Very well," said Mrs. Weasley, her voice cracking. As she told her children and Hermione to leave, and through the fight that followed, Sirius felt relieved. The anger at Molly, though, stayed with him, as well as the image of precious James and Lily's bodies. And that little rat, pulling that trick and darting into the sewers ...
It took a while for Sirius to calm down. But when he finally did, a new resolve became firm within him. He would do his best to save Harry from the same fate as his beloved parents, and no matter what Mrs. Weasley said, he'd do his best to be a responsible godfather from now on. I love you, little Prongslet, he thought fondly, gazing at his godson who had a look of trust in Sirius in his green eyes. I'll be there for you, you can rely on me. I won't fail you again, James, Lily. I promise.