To Sleep is an Act of Faith
Summary: The war is over, but where is Harry Potter? The wizarding world has almost given up hope of finding their saviour, but Harry is now the one that needs saving; can an unsuspecting muggle help?
Rating: K+ (may change)
Disclaimer: I can assure you that if I owned Harry Potter I would put him to much better use than a silly little story!!
Author's Notes!PLEASE READ! Wow, okay, I'm not really sure where to start with this, I guess a 'sorry' should come first – I have neglected this story horrifically for a very long time, and I am honestly sorry to those of you who aren't too happy about that. I lost my father in a car accident a few months ago and I'm afraid my priorities changed somewhat because of this, and writing kind of got pushed to the side. I can assure you all that I'm in the process of getting back into the swing of normal life and will update as often as I can.
I'd also like to say that I am overwhelmed by the sheer volume of reviews and PMs I got when I logged on earlier today asking me to update – it means a lot that people want to read the story that much! Thank you! I'm sorry I've kept you all waiting and promise I won't let you go that long again. Happy reading!
Chapter Twenty-Six
/// "Okay. I say, your surname is either Jones, or Potter. Can you tell me which one's right Harry?"
Harry Jones? That didn't seem right at all, he moved past it quickly. Harry Potter?
Harry Potter.
Harry James Potter.
The-Boy-Who-Lived. The bane of the Dursley's existence. The wizard. The speccy, little first year. The heir of Slytherin? The Godson of Sirius Black. The fourth champion. The murderer of Cedric Diggory. The blood that revived the Dark Lord. The coward that hid in his school. The idiot that got caught. The whore of Lord Voldemort. The destroyer of Lord Voldemort. The-Boy-Who-Ran-Away.
Fuck. ///
Damien Moore had witnessed some haunting things in his life, but few of which had struck him as hard as the look on Harry's face as he lay, pale and gaunt in the hospital bed, tears streaming down his face as if the remembrance of his name had hauled down a damn that had previously been holding them back. The boy had not yet acknowledged this breakthrough regarding his amnesia, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to work out that Harry had remembered a little more than his name.
The priest was at a loss as to what to do really, conversation with the child was obviously not on the list of possibilities. So Damien just remained diligently at the boy's side, holding his hand.
The doctors had left about ten minutes ago, John saying that it was best for Harry to have some time to assimilate this new information, and that he would return later to start working Harry through his speech problems.
Slowly, the child's sobs quietened, his body stopped shuddering, and his eyes ran out of tears.
Damien raised a hand to brush the last vestiges of Harry's grief from his cheeks, though it was plain to see that even though the tears had stopped, the pain was still deeply implanted in the boy's eyes.
The priest smiled softly. "Hi," he whispered, still holding Harry's hand in his own.
Harry smiled sadly back, and whispered a forced and husky "Hi," The single word took just over a full minute for the boy to push through his lips.
Damien sighed. He could hardly comprehend that the sparkling green eyes that were currently locked with his own had been through so much. And that Harry had not once mentioned it, not once complained about the unfairness of life, the burdens he had had to carry, and the pain he had been through.
"Dear child, I am so sorry."
Harry's brow wrinkled and he opened his mouth, twisting his lips and contorting his jaw, though Damien could see that the real struggle here was internal. Not wanting to see the boy's face so stressed and dejected, he guessed the question the boy wanted to ask.
"Why?" He said, the hint of a smile in his voice as relief and remembrance washed over Harry's face. He opened his mouth again to elaborate, when Harry moved his free hand to the priest's mouth to stop him.
The boy scrunched up his eyes and opened his mouth: "Why?" He said, rather louder than intended. The boy blushed a little at this, causing Damien to laugh out loud.
Seeing the resentful yet satisfied look on Harry's face, he stopped, "Sorry," he said, "though I must say I am over the moon to see you're so enthusiastic."
Harry smiled at this, yes, he was enthusiastic. His past had just flooded over him and reminded him of all the wounds he had suffered, making them feel fresh and painful, but he had also been reminded of the fact that he had come out of it all at the other end, he had begun a new life, and he had made a new friend. He would be damned if he'd let a little problem like talking get in the way!
He stopped to consider the man he now considered to be a friend. His face was warm and kindly, even in the harsh unforgiving light of the hospital room. He loved the new life he had made with this man, he loved the church, already coming to think of it as home. He loved the simplicity of his life, and he loved the anonymity it afforded him.
Yes, he had done well for himself, despite all that had been thrown at him.
Although he couldn't help but be a little disappointed in himself for pretty much messing it all up and landing himself in hospital. Damien had even warned him about being careful on that ladder, and he had gone and fallen off anyway!
Well, next time he'd be a lot more careful and make sure to keep his balance. What had prompted him to go spinning around on it anyway? He remembered Damien calling him, and then falling. He guessed it must have been turning to face the priest that had caused him to lose his balance. Perhaps this was why the man was now apologising. This reminded Harry that Damien was explaining his apology, so he turned his attention back to the man at his bedside, feeling a little guilty that he had let his mind wander and stopped paying attention.
"…I never would have let that man within a mile of us if I had known he would provoke such a reaction in you. But if I'm honest Harry, he does seem genuinely worried for you and remorseful for his past actions."
Harry blinked. What?
"He told me about you y'know," the priest continued, his voice almost apologetic, "I hope you don't mind."
Harry was thoroughly confused now, and more then a little worried at what the implications of Damien's words might be.
"Harry, I can understand why you didn't tell me about your past, I can't even begin to comprehend what you've been through, but just so that you know, I will never judge you for it, and I will always be here for you to talk to." The man smiled, "When you've regained the power of speech that is!"
Damien must have noticed the discomfort in Harry's face for he continued in a rather hurried and repentant tone, "I'm sorry if you feel I've intruded Harry, but to be honest after seeing your reaction to him I wanted to know what it was about this Dumbledore fellow that shocked you so much. I hope you can understand that. Harry?"
Harry had turned as white as the sheets that enveloped him.
Dumbledore.
Dumbledore had been there, in the church. He had found him.
And now Damien knew everything.
Why was the man even still here? He must be disgusted that the boy who he had trusted, who he had taken into his home, had kept such terrible and tainted secrets from him.
Harry pulled his hand from the priest's, completely mortified and filled with self-disgust. He shifted beneath the sheets, hauling himself onto his other side so he faced away form the man at his bedside.
"Harry?"
No response.
"Harry please," Damien got up and walked around to bed to look Harry in the face.
"I am so sorry I've intruded into your life like this, but I was just so worried. If I could take it back I would; please don't be angry with me."
Harry was shocked, the man wasn't sickened by the revelation of Harry's past, of course he wasn't Harry realised, otherwise he wouldn't be sitting at the boy's side at all.
He wanted to open his mouth and tell the man he wasn't angry.
But he didn't. He didn't even try.
The priest may not want to disown him because of the revelation of his past, but he still knew it, knew everything that Harry had done: all the stupidity and cowardice.
He couldn't stay with this man now. He couldn't live with someone who would look at him every day and see all the terrible things he had done.
This was just so unfair. Everything had been so perfect before, and now this.
Suddenly he didn't want to talk anymore, didn't want to explain himself. Damien knew too much, way too much. He had spoken to Dumbledore.
Oh god, Dumbledore. Was he here to? In the hospital? Back at the church?
Surely he wouldn't just leave now that he had found Harry, he would want to make Harry go back to Hogwarts, to his 'friends'.
No, he couldn't do that. He couldn't go back, ever.
And so he didn't open his mouth, didn't speak, didn't try. He closed his eyes and shut out the man before him, shut out the cruelty of the situation around him.
"Harry?" Came the uncertain whisper from Damien.
"Harry… I'm sorry." Harry could hear them man's voice breaking, and knew that if he opened his eyes he would see him crying. He felt a hand touch the side of his face and whipped his own up to push it away, to push him away, shaking his head and scrunching up his face.
"Okay," Came the utterly dejected and depressed voice of the priest. "I'll go, but please Harry, forgive me, I never meant to go behind your back."
The sound of the man apologising again was killing Harry inside, he wanted to grab him and tell him it wasn't his fault, that he wasn't angry, that it was all Harry's own fault. But he couldn't, the man knew too much.
So he lay and listened as the man stood and crossed the room, stopped to say that he would be just outside if Harry changed his mind, and left; closing the door softly behind him, leaving his young charge to cry his sorry heart out for the loss of the innocence and refuge he thought he had found, that had been torn away in the blink of an eye.
A/N More to come ASAP