Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
It was Only a Boggart
By: ChoCedric
Sirius Black paced his room in number twelve, Grimmauld Place, a million thoughts racing through his mind. Fear, anxiety, horror, fury, and grief were roiling inside him, battling for dominance.
It had been hours since he had left the drawing room, hours since he had laid eyes on the horrible sight contained within, but he still couldn't get it out of his mind. Harry, his precious godson Harry, one of the only things left in this world to fight and live for, lying on the floor, his wide, blank emerald eyes glassy, a look of shock plastered on his angelic face – Sirius, stop it! He chided himself for what felt like the millionth time. Stop obsessing over it, for Merlin's sake! It was a boggart, only a boggart! Harry is in the house with you and he's fine, he's alive, he's healthy, he's breathing.
But nevertheless, the thought of him lying there, all the life extinguished from him, would not go away. God, he looked so much like James it was uncanny – all except for the eyes. Sirius swore that if he had not seen their emerald depths, he'd have thought it was James lying on the floor instead, and it was Halloween 1981 all over again.
Suddenly, there was a quiet knock on his door. Sirius immediately knew who it was, because Remus always instinctively knew when Sirius was brooding about something. And the knock, which had been gentle and hesitant, gave it away too.
So, knowing that Remus wanted to talk to him, Sirius opened the door and came face-to-face with the haggard, exhausted man. "Hello, Remus," he said softly.
"Sirius," Remus replied, walking into the room and sitting on the edge of Sirius's bed. Within seconds, the other man joined him.
Silence hung between them like a heavy, dark cloud. Remus knew what Sirius had truly seen in that moment with the boggart. He'd seen the past, as well as visions of a terrifying future.
"Sirius," he said eventually, not being able to take the silence anymore. "Sirius, you're torturing yourself. It was a boggart, only a stupid boggart."
Sirius looked at Remus, the expression in his gray eyes haunted and devastated. "I know," he whispered brokenly. "But it could be real. It was real, and it could be again. Harry ... Remus, you know what the prophecy says. How are we supposed to protect him?"
Remus didn't know what to say to this. Sirius's fears were certainly founded, and he worried about the young boy as well. At only fifteen years old, Harry had been through enough to last a lifetime, and it wasn't over. There was still so much more he had to do. How could fate be so cruel?
"I know what the prophecy says as well as you do, Sirius." He finally replied quietly. "I know this sounds incredibly empty, but it is pointless to worry about the future. And what I told Molly back there is true also – we are more prepared this time, we know what Voldemort's doing and what we're up against."
"That may be true," Sirius said, his voice suddenly turning bitter. "But there's a fat lot of good I can do. I can't help Harry. I can't save lives. I can't be involved in any of the action. Instead, I have to stay here and be a bloody maid, cleaning this Godforsaken house. I have to stay here and look at boggarts which turn into the body of one of the only people I have left to fight for." He let out a laugh, but it was not a happy sound. It was almost devoid of sanity.
Remus sighed wearily. Peter, how could you? He thought. How could you do this to us? He knew that nothing he could say to Sirius would help this situation, because as much as he wanted to deny it, he knew the words his best friend had spoken were the truth. He knew Sirius wanted nothing better than to go out and fight, but circumstances made it so he couldn't. Circumstances had made it that he was to now stay in this awful house, the house he was so happy to get away from in his miserable childhood, the house he had been determined never to return to.
So instead of saying anything at all, Remus simply beckoned the other man closer, and pulled him into an embrace. As he held him close, he could feel Sirius's entire body trembling. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and he tried valiantly to stop the sobs from consuming him, the sobs which had wanted to be released as soon as he'd set eyes on that terrible boggart.
But Remus wouldn't let him go, and eventually, every fiber of control he had snapped. A single sob escaped him, followed by many more. He clutched Remus tightly to him as he howled, "I can't ... I can't do this, Remus! I can't stand doing nothing! I can't take it! And I can't lose Harry too!"
"Shhhh, Sirius," Remus soothed as he felt helplessness of his own sweep over him. "You can't torture yourself like this. You'll destroy yourself. It isn't healthy. It was just a boggart, Sirius, just a stupid boggart which played with your fears and emotions. Those things should have never been allowed to exist. Shhhh, Sirius, it was just a stupid, stupid boggart."
The two best friends stayed like that for a while, simply taking comfort in the other's presence. Finally, Sirius got his emotions under control and lifted his head from Remus's robes. "Sorry, Moony," he said, shame coloring his face and voice. "I'm nothing like the man you used to know, am I?"
"Azkaban changes people, Sirius. And out of everyone, you deserved to be there the least. I am so sorry I misjudged you for so long, old friend. But we're going to get through this," Remus said, trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Sirius. "Harry will be fine. All of us who are helping him will make sure of that."
Sirius gave Remus a weak smile as he wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "I hope so," he murmured. "I really hope so."
And with that, their eyes locked, and they knew without any semblance of doubt that they would do all they could to make sure those words of reassurance were the truth.