This is... a much bigger chapter. o.o;; I didn't mean to, but I felt it was high time for some fluffystuffs. It was a hard chapter for me to write-- I tried to keep it as realistic as possible, and I tried incorporating stuff from my own experiences. I hope it doesn't disappoint! And there will be more to come, no worries. ;]
Lily16Snape -- I concur, hehe. I was wicked surprised at the lack of this kind of story, and I wanted to write one, so... yeah.
Chapter 4 -- Caught
Surprise, surprise, he didn't get killed during his little escapade. Harry came back just as the sun was setting, seemingly chipper as ever. Oddly, nobody seemed to comment on his little explosion. Mrs. Weasley didn't even have anything to say about his disappearance. However, she must've known he had gone somewhere, judging by how short she was acting with him. Harry was slightly hurt by that, but he brushed it off. He could worry about it later.
For now, he wanted to find Ron and Hermione, and prove he was just as normal as ever. Unsurprisingly, they were both in Harry and Ron's room, murmuring something to each other.
"Hi, guys," Harry said cheerfully, bursting in. Hermione jumped, surprised at the sudden, boisterous intrusion of the person they had been talking about.
"Oh... hi, Harry," she said meekly. Ron just looked at him oddly.
"So, what do you want to do tonight?" he asked with a little too much enthusiasm. He plopped on the bed and looked at the pair expectantly. Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "What is it?" Harry asked, now somewhat uncertain.
"Well, Harry, we just wanted to talk to you... you know... about what happened earlier..." Hermione said uneasily. Harry's defenses quickly went up.
"Look, Harry, we just don't like how you treated us earlier," Ron finally said, his voice brimming with exasperation. "And now you come back here, acting like everything is all perfect and stuff--"
"Well, I didn't like what you were saying to me!" he shot back. Ron stared. Angrily, Harry threw open his trunk, fishing around in it for his sleeping pills. "I never said anything was all perfect," Harry snapped, rummaging around for his pajamas to hide the pills in. "You just assume that I'm this horrible person who... who..."
He was lost for words, so he contented himself with grinding his teeth as he discreetly wrapped the box of pills in his pajamas. "I'm sleeping in another room tonight. Maybe Sirius' or something. Since he doesn't need it anymore."
With that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Great, he thought angrily to himself. Now he was acting like a petulant child. Instead of going into Sirius' room, he found himself back in the washroom he had been in the night before. Immediately, he heard his reflection say, "I knew you'd be back."
"SHUT THE HELL UP!" he screamed at his reflection. He knew Ron and Hermione could probably hear him, and they probably thought he was crazy, but he didn't care. Throwing off his shirt, he stared at himself in the mirror. Fortunately, his reflection fell silent as Harry looked himself up and down. So many scars, he thought. But so much unmarred skin.
Taking his knife out of his pocket, he began to viciously carve a giant "X" into his chest. He was so full of rage at himself that he almost hoped his hand might slip and rip him open. He wanted to bleed, he wanted the emotions that were building up in him to just go away.
He dropped the knife on the floor and bent over the sink, sobbing yet again. He knew that little beads of blood were forming on the newest cuts he had made, but he didn't even give himself the pleasure of looking at them.
Again, there was a knock at the door.
"Go away!" Harry shouted, even though he knew he was giving himself away as the boy who was crying in the washroom.
"Harry, open the door, please," the voice replied. It was Lupin. Harry swore.
"I don't want to talk to you right now!" Harry yelled back. He could imagine Lupin was sighing.
"Alohamora," he heard. Frantically, Harry tried to pick up his shirt and pull it on, but Lupin opened the door faster.
Harry couldn't watch as Lupin entered. Instead, he slid to the floor, holding his shirt in front of him, his head bent onto his knees. Quietly, he heard the door close, but he knew that Lupin hadn't left.
"Harry, what's going on?" Lupin asked quietly, bending to Harry's level.
"Nothing," he mumbled. He felt his hand touch his shoulder.
"Listen, Harry, I know something's wrong. You don't usually--" he stopped, and Harry could feel his fingers going over a series of scars. Harry froze, then recoiled.
"Is it Sirius?" Lupin asked quietly. Silently, Harry nodded, still averting his gaze. Gently, Lupin tugged at Harry's shirt, which Harry let go of. "Can you sit back, Harry?" he asked, saying nothing about the cuts. Obediently, Harry did so, and he finally chanced a look at Lupin. The older man was frowning, studying the "X" Harry had just made on himself.
Lupin probably though he was disgusting, Harry thought, feeling as though he had reached rock bottom. If Lupin hated him, then he really did have no redemption.
"We need to get that washed, Harry," Lupin finally said. Harry looked up warily as Lupin got up, unsure what to think. "It's still too fresh, I don't want it to risk getting infected," he explained. Uncertainly, Harry stood slowly.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled as Lupin reached for a washcloth. Lupin frowned.
"Don't be," he replied firmly as he wetted the cloth. "You didn't do anything wrong." Harry felt almost as though he were in a dream state as Lupin gently blotted the red "X" on Harry's chest. He wished he could read Lupin's mind as he did so. What was he thinking? He couldn't understand why this man would do something like this for him.
"They don't look too deep," Lupin murmured. "I've got some bandages and some salve in my room that we can use, so we can take care of that there."
"Why are you doing this?" Harry finally asked, his voice hoarse. Lupin smiled weakly.
"Because I know that you weren't planning on doing it."
"That's not what I mean," Harry replied, exasperated. "I mean... I can take care of myself."
"And that's the point," Lupin replied simply. "Time to give someone else a turn."
That shut Harry up for the time being. Lupin took advantage of that moment by taking off his outer shirt and wrapping it around Harry. Being taller, Lupin's shirt was baggy around Harry, which was suitable to cover up the markings on Harry's chest. With that, Lupin opened the door and steered Harry around the corner to his room.
Harry was grateful that nobody else was in the hall. His normal room with Ron had the door closed, and he felt guilt stab at his gut. Ron and Hermione probably didn't want anything else to do with him.
Lupin's room was very plain, probably due to the fact that he didn't live there full time. Still, he had a flask settled on the desk, a trunk at the foot of his bed, and a calendar with the full moons clearly labeled hanging on the wall. After closing the door behind them, Lupin walked over to his desk, and pulled out a neatly organized drawer, full of first aid supplies.
"Good thing I'm a werewolf, for once," he told Harry, trying to lighten the mood. "I always have some first aid things handy in case I hurt myself during that time of the month." He chuckled. Harry didn't laugh. He was still too tense, and the guilt he felt about Ron and Hermione made him want to have his knife again. But, he thought regrettably, he left it lying on the floor of the washroom.
He came over to Harry, with something in a jar and a roll of bandages. "You can have a seat," he added hastily, seeing as the boy was still standing, clinging to Lupin's shirt around him. Obediently, Harry sat. Lupin pulled up the chair and sat in front of him, gently urging Harry's hands off the shirt so that he could take it off.
"So, as we're doing this, why don't you tell me what's going on with you, Harry?" he said gently, taking some of the salve and rubbing it onto Harry's cut. Harry flinched at the mild sting, but he was more distracted by Lupin's question.
"Er..." he said dumbly. He didn't know what to say.
"It is Sirius," he stated thoughtfully. That much they had already covered. "Are you upset about him still?" Timidly, Harry nodded.
"It..." He hesitated. Lupin looked up at him, his eyes warmly urging him on. "It's all my fault that..." Harry stopped to take a breath as Lupin unwound the bandages and began to wrap them around Harry's chest. "It's my fault that he's dead. And... Nobody else seems to get it. They just... carry on, with everything, but Sirius, he's... gone..."
"Harry," Lupin said quietly, binding up the bandage. "It isn't your fault that he's dead. Sirius knew what he was getting into when he went to the Department of Mysteries. And he was closest with you-- maybe that's why they don't seem to understand as much."
"He was my godfather," Harry said, his voice getting quieter. "He... I was going to live with him... He was my family..."
That opened the floodgates. He pushed his hands beneath his glasses, covering his eyes so Lupin wouldn't see the shame of his tears. However, to his surprise, Lupin gently pulled him into his chest. Instead of tearing himself away, Harry clung to Lupin, an action he found he was doing more out of instinct and need than anything else. The sobs erupted loudly from inside of Harry the more he spoke.
"And now I keep pissing everyone off, but I can't stop myself! They're going on just fine, but why can't I just go on? Why am I stuck thinking about him-- and everything-- all the time?!" The sobs that wracked his thin body finally made it so he could no longer speak. He just continued sobbing, clinging to Lupin as the man held him.
Lupin was murmuring something in a comforting tone, but Harry couldn't make out what it was. But it probably didn't matter. As long as Lupin held him, Harry could be comforted.
Fortunately, Lupin seemed to know this. The older man, still holding onto Harry, slid over onto the bed beside him and began rubbing his back gently. "You'll be all right, Harry," Lupin murmured as Harry's massive sobs began to subside. "You need time to grieve, and I don't think Ron and Hermione understand that. But it's okay to grieve-- it's healthy to do so."
"But I hate feeling this way," Harry whispered.
"I know," Lupin replied softly. Suddenly, Harry felt another pang of guilt. How could Lupin be so calm and collected when he was probably closer with Sirius than Harry was?! He was acting stupid. Again, Harry's sobs started afresh and harder than ever, and all Lupin could do was to hold Harry even tighter.
With gentle firmness, Lupin eased Harry's legs up and onto the bed, keeping one hand wrapped around Harry at all times. "You're going to sleep here tonight, all right, Harry?" he told him. Harry didn't respond. He was still shaking with sobs, but he was trying to think it through. He certainly didn't want to burden Lupin, who was being so patient with him already, but he didn't want to see Ron or Hermione while he was like this.
"Are you sure I can't just sleep in one of the empty rooms?" he asked, his voice choked with sobs.
"Yes," Lupin said, leaving no room in his tone for arguing. "I don't want you to keep hurting yourself. I'm going to stay with you, and I'm not going to leave you, all right?"
Shakily, Harry nodded, and Lupin grabbed up the throw that was folded at the end of the bed, covering both himself and Harry as he laid both of themselves down. Though Harry was loathe to admit it, he was relieved that Lupin was being so caring toward him. Even though he thought that Lupin was only doing this out of obligation, being held like this was calming and comforting. He let his head collapse into Lupin's chest, and close his eyes.
Despite all his doubts, he was able to go to sleep with the warm sensation of Lupin stroking his hair.
