I Will Try Fix You
Tears stream down on your face,
When you lose something
You cannot replace.
Tears stream down on your face
I promise you i will make up for my mistakes
Lights will guide you home.
And ignite your bones.
And i will try, to fix you
How does a user become a user? What is it that changes in a person to make them change so suddenly, to make them addicted to what's harming them? Why does it happen?
I constantly ask myself these questions. Does he not know that we love him? That we would do anything for him? Is knowing that not enough?
We can't tell exactly when it happened, or why, though I have my suspicions. When Sirius left, a part of him died inside, a part of him I don't think will ever be replaced. At first, I thought it was only normal for him to retreat like that. To become so cold, so distant. We all need time to grieve.
I didn't know he was using. I found out about five months later, just before Christmas. I'm a terrible parent/guardian/uncle/friend, I know, but back then I didn't know. I wasn't aware that so many muggles abused substances like that, wizards rarely do (well you never hear about it if they do). And he hid it so well.
Pathetic excuses. Sometimes I wish I had left instead of Sirius, he would of handled this better. He would of known what to do. But it's just stupid me left, I have to do what I can.
You should of seen the look on her face when we found out.
It was Hermione who caught it, Hermione who told us. She'd walked in on him by accident, and had refused to lie for him. When she told us, neither of us truly understood the consequences, the problems. We're both purebloods, you see, none of that "disgraceful nonsense" would ever be permitted in out homes.
But Hermione sat us down, talked for what seemed life hours, giving us muggle books and leaflets and cards. But you can't take a sixteen year old wizard to Drug Addicts Anonymous.
And Molly, well she cried for hours on end, wondering where we'd failed him.
Confronting him was probably the worst part. What are we supposed to say and do? What if he won't like what we say? What if he refuses are help?
And he did. He just didn't seem capable of understanding that we wanted to help him. That we wanted to fix him.
He put up a huge fight, there was a lot of screaming and smashing, crying and eventually begging. Did he listen to anything we said? No. Did he leave? After disowning us all (including Ron and Hermione), yes. Apparently we just didn't "get" what he was going through.
I don't mean to be smart but I think he's forgotten that Sirius has been my friend since I was eleven, the only good one I had left in the world. But no, I wouldn't have a clue what he's going through.
So he left. Like that, with nothing but the clothes on his back and his Gringotts key. We couldn't do anything to stop him. But I got angry. Really, really angry at him. I put my fist through one too many walls, tore my apartment upside down and rampaged as a wolf. The wrong approach, believe me, I know. But I am only human. Well, part-human anyway.
It was Christmas Eve when I received the letter from St. Mungo's, and I didn't know what to do. Did I just leave him there, all alone? I wanted too, I really did. But then I remembered his first ever Christmas, how happy and healthy he was. How much Lily and James loved him. How much they'd hate me for failing him now.
And, I guess it was the forgiving season after all.
I could never have anticipated how bad it was, how bad he was. He would have looked better if the Hogwarts Express ran over him a hundred times. I was so glad that I'd decided to come alone.
I sat by his bed all night, and all day. The healers came and went regularly as his condition was so unstable, so critical. And for the first time in forever, I prayed to a God. I'm not sure what one, I really didn't care. All I wanted was for him to get better.
He did, believe it or not. I don't know how: maybe it was the healers, or the random god, but I cried (so much I'd put Molly to shame) when he woke. I felt like he had been born again, that this was his second chance. I promised that I would do everything I could to fix him. And he promised too, he really swore that that was it. That he would never again touch a drug, that this experience was enough to make him stop. I believed him.
I guess I never truly understood the ways of an addict. I thought that everything was going great, that he was safe and happy and healthy in his new life. I didn't spot it the second time round. You think I'd know what to look for after the previous experience, but I didn't. I suppose I really just wanted to believe that everything was okay this time.
I found out when it was too late. Dead. Of an overdose. So far gone that no healer or doctor could save him.
I didn't even attend the funeral. I couldn't. The boy that had just died wasn't the boy I had known; the boy I'd loved and cared about, the boy who thought something of the world and his place in it, who wanted to go places and do worthwhile things. All that had been left was a drug and it's addict. And underneath it all, I was ashamed and embarrassed by him.
I guess that when Sirius died, he took Harry with him.
Disclaimer: Do not own HP universe or "Fix You" song by Coldplay.
A/N: PLEASE READ: This fic was inspired by the song Fix You but also by my Peer Ed classes. It's where we learn about drugs and stuff so we can go teach younger students in our school the REAL facts about them. After doing the drugs module, this has been playing around in my head. Please, i hate to sound like a prude or dork or something, but if you can help it, stay away from drugs. They cause a lot more harm than they're worth, believe me. You don't want you're life ruined at 18 with criminal offenses, or worse, be dead. And remember: everyone starts out as just a "social" user.