A/N: Hopefully getting a job soon and going back to school in the next few weeks, so my chapters may be a little sporadic from now on, but I'll definitely try to update every few days. I love you's peoples! Lol enough of my craziness, remember the three R's: Read, Review, and Repeat with the next chap!

Warning: None as of yet.

"Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have - life itself." ~Walter Anderson

Chapter 7: One disaster too many

How could this happen? Death of a family member like one as important as Sirius to Harry was painful. So painful that it felt like a destroying force, plunging Harry into the deepest darkness. It felt as if he were drowning; sorrow was consuming him. He wanted to absolutely die knowing that Sirius would rather be dead than his godfather. Harry knew it was his own fault! But just as he was healing, to see Sirius alive and well, he had to wonder if he was cursed.

"'Arry?"

Startled, Harry felt the blackness loosen its hold. 'No! Don't leave me!' Harry wanted to yell at the darkness, but it sounded garbled, as if he really were drowning.

"Harry?"

Another voice, this time less sharp and more relaxing, but nonetheless the darkness began to fade and Harry began to become aware of the sunshine hiding through his eyelids. Suddenly there was a new pain, this time physical, as Harry tried to open his eyelids against the invisible pounding in his head.

"I think he's waking up."

"Go. Get your mother."

Suddenly Harry's eyes shot opened and he groaned loudly. He tried to talk but ended up in a fit of coughing and choking.

"Hush, don't talk. Here." Voldemort said carefully, handing Harry a glass of water.

"Wh-y?" Harry rasped after taking slow sips.

"You injured your throat when you screamed before you passed out." Voldemort said quietly, avoiding the reason of Harry's break down.

"I-I-S-Sor-ry." Harry coughed out.

"Its fine Harry, I shouldn't have surprised you like that. It was a sensitive situation that I handled badly." Voldemort said softly, placing his hand over Harry's while Harry just shook his head and opened his mouth to speak.

"You better not be speaking, young man." A Female voice said, making Voldemort and Harry jump.

"It's my fault." Voldemort said guiltily.

"Leave." Narcissa Malfoy said crisply.

Voldemort shuffled out, glaring at the short blond woman. Almost immediately, she started shooting diagnostic spells at Harry who could only stare. Honestly, the woman just forced the Dark Lord to do something, she must be one hell of a something.

"Well, it looks like your still a bit on the malnourished side and that it has stunted your growth. We'll have to go to Gringotts; the goblins have a potion to unlock your true potential. The potion will also get rid of your scars and most likely fix your eyesight, though possibly not because the Potter's have a long line of bad vision." The pureblood woman sniffed. "I also see here that your hands aren't well formed due to past injuries. I could heal them now or let the potion heal them, but I'll let you decide. For now, I just want you to rest and take a few potions for your strained vocals. You should be good by dinner."

"H-H-How L-Long-g?" Harry choked, ignoring Narcissa's disapproving look.

"How long were you unconscious?" She asked and Harry nodded. "Almost 24-hours." She said quietly and Harry stared.

"T-T-Than-k y-you." Harry gasped out.

"You are welcome, but you need rest right now, so go to sleep my son." She said, smiling and Harry wondered, not for the first time, if this was what having a mother felt like. Narcissa was nothing like Molly; she loved, but not overbearingly, she protected, but not as loud as the Weasley matriarch, and she treated Harry as her own, but not just for his Boy-Who-Lived stigma.

Rolling over, he made a silent wish for Narcissa to be his mother.

When he woke up, Harry was happy to realize that his throat was healed. He realized it when Voldemort started to shake him and he'd yelled for the man to go away. Shooting up in bed, Harry turned to smile brightly at Voldemort.

"My throat doesn't hurt!" Harry cried happily, jumping Voldemort and hugging him tightly as they fell backwards.

"Oomph!" Voldemort gasped as his back hit the floor. "You know I could torture you for that, right brat?"

"Of course, but I knew you wouldn't." Harry giggled, pulling back.

"I woke you up for dinner, I take it by your energy that you're up to it?" Voldemort chuckled.

"Yep! Come on!" Harry pulled Voldemort up and started running towards the dining room. Voldemort just stared after the boy, wondering what on earth had gotten into him.

"You know," Voldemort started as he caught up to Harry. "Your mood swings are giving me whiplash." This seemed to sober Harry up.

"I need to be happy, Voldemort. If I'm not, the world comes crashing down on me and fast. Let me have these moments, I'll be serious when the time is needed. Please, I'm going to go insane if I let it out." Harry said desperately and Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"Fine, but I want you to talk about this with me, Harry. Holding it inside will make you more insane than letting it out. Trust me, I know." Voldemort said, avoiding his eyes.

Sighing, Harry reached out and gently grabbed Voldemort's face. "Fine," He whispered, caressing the older man's jaw. "I understand, but if I speak, then so do you. I want to know about what has made you, you." Harry said sadly, 'I want you to love and trust me like I love and trust you.' Harry thought, then froze. Damn those thoughts.

"How about we eat dinner alone? Start our nightly stroll early?" Voldemort said quietly and Harry smiled, agreeing.

A/N: I'm leaving it here and I'm sorry it's so short but the next chapter will be extra long.