Disclamer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of J. K. Rowling's characters or plots, and am making no monetary profit from this.

I will be the one that's gonna hold you
I will be the one that you run to
My love is
A burning, consuming fire

--from Whispers in the Dark, Skillet

A bit earlier…

What the hell, Sirius? Pull yourself together!

I chunked another glass at the wall. The sharp sound was unsatisfying. I didn't know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do. I'm not helpless, and I shouldn't feel that way.

Remus…Remus wouldn't want me to just sit here. He'd want to be avenged! That's what I would have to do. Kill Bellatrix, just as she'd killed Remus. Simple.

What about Harry?

I sighed. I had probably scared the kid half to death. Where was Harry anyway?

I shook my head. I'd find him later. Right now, I needed a plan. I needed to find that b—

Harry. Shut up for a minute, and think about Harry! He's your responsibility now.

Damn conscience. I couldn't find Harry just yet. I was still so angry…

My hands were shaking a bit, I noticed. Running into Harry right now might not be the best idea. I'd do something I would regret.

Something you'd regret? Maybe like murdering your cousin?

I threw another glass at the wall. Remus couldn't get his revenge, so I'd get it for him. He'd do the same for me.

He would take care of Harry first!

And with my last glass, some of my anger left. That's when I realized two things—how tired I was, and that my face was wet. I don't remember crying…I never cried.

Remus is gone. Dead.

And it was my fault. All of it. Blimey…Remus had jumped in front of me. If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead right now. If it wasn't for me, he'd be alive.

I closed my eyes. This wasn't happening. My best friend…first James…or maybe Peter was first…and Lily…and now Remus…they're gone…lost. I felt incredibly alone, and very small. I wanted to just curl up and hide for a few years.

How do you think Harry has felt all his life? He'd never had anyone besides his damned aunt and uncle until he came to Hogwarts. And now he has you. And you have him.

I'm not sure how long I sat there. I know I cried.


After a while, I looked up. I remembered that it was late, and that I didn't know where my godson was. I was emotionally spent, but I wasn't done.

I took a deep breath, and walked up the stairs. Somewhere in my mind I registered that the shower was on. I walked in the direction of the bathroom. I knocked on the door.

"Harry?" I said loudly, trying to keep my voice from breaking.

I waited for the shower to turn off, but it didn't. I heard a few bottles of shampoo or soap fall. I waited a few more seconds. No response.

"Har? Come on, Harry. I know you're in there."

There was a pause, and then the shower turned off. I could hear him sigh. Well, I didn't want to do this either. But we had to, or at least that's what the voice kept telling me.

I heard some noises, like Harry was moving around, probably trying to get dressed. I remembered that his robes were filthy with blood and who knows what else.

"Hang on a minute, I'll bring you something clean," I said.

There was no response. He probably didn't want to talk to me. He probably knew it was my fault.

I shuffled into his room, and tried to find pajamas. It seemed, however, that he had taken them all with him to Hogwarts. I was taking too long. I hurried into my room, and got out a pair of my own pajamas.

I arrived back at the bathroom, and knocked lightly on the door. Slowly, the door opened. Harry was wearing a towel, and his glasses were clouded with steam. He took off his glasses, and wiped them on the towel. He replaced them.

We were both avoiding the other's eyes. He wasn't looking at me because I was a killer, and I wasn't looking at him just in case he did look me, because I didn't want to see the accusing look that was sure to be in his eyes.

I held out the clothes. He took them, and mumbled his thanks. He turned and closed the door behind him.

I leaned against the wall to wait for him. It took him longer than I expected, but I wouldn't want to have to come out and talk to me either. When the door finally opened again, I couldn't help but smile a little. My pajamas were way too long for him—the shirt went to his mid thighs, and the pant legs covered most of his feet.

I was thankful for this small distraction from everything, but in my slightly more relaxed state, I accidentally met his eyes. I immediately glanced away, but then did a double-take. Harry had been crying. I'd never seen Harry cry before, but I guess he'd never seen me do it either. I wanted to hug him. I couldn't though, could I? I mean, I'd done it a few times over the summer, but no one had died recently because of me. But he looked so sad. And…guilty? No, Harry couldn't be looking guilty. That would be ridiculous. He hadn't done anything to feel guilty about.

"Are you—" my voice was rough and hoarse, "are you okay?"

Harry looked desperate now. He was losing control. "Yeah," he said, trying to keep his voice under control. "I'm fine."


A/N: So, here it is. Let me know what you think. Constructve criticsm is great, reviews are wonderful, and flames are accepted.
I have 4 more days of school, only one of which is full--today--and so I may be able to update more often. At least for awhile.