Perhaps it was the weather that made him do it.
After a gray, gloomy summer, the last days of August had broken the spell of the perpetual rain. The last few days of summer were suffused with a golden sunlight, accompanied by a slight chill, a whisper of the autumn that was to come.
Soon, it would be time to go back to Hogwarts. Harry spent these last precious golden days wandering through the woods near the Burrow with Sirius. There was no danger of meeting anyone, since the ancient forest at the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole was so wild and overgrown that walking in it was difficult. But Harry and Sirius loved roaming through the pathless forest, getting tangled in its labyrinth of brambles.
They talked easily, like old friends. It was difficult to believe that they had only met a year ago. Talking to Sirius was not at all like talking to Ron and Hermione, thought Harry. Even though they were his best friends, they were still… other people. Someone outside himself, someone he had to explain his thoughts to. Sirius was different. Talking to Sirius was not like talking to another person; it was like talking to yourself. There was nothing he couldn't say. Even his darkest thoughts were met with a quiet unassuming acceptance. There was no horror at his most terrifying fears and fantasies, no attempts at making him see things in a different light. Talking to Sirius was a lot like thinking. Like daydreaming. Sirius simply listened, and loved him unconditionally.
In return, Harry listened quietly as Sirius tried, and failed, to capture his shadow existence in Azkaban in words. He held Sirius as he wept, and listened to the fragmented sentences that came out of his mouth with silence. Their friendship grew through that silence, for they both knew that the terror of Azkaban was beyond words. But perhaps Sirius sensed that Harry, after living year after year with the Dursleys without any hope or joy, understood Azkaban better than most.
Soon September would come, and Harry would have to return to Hogwarts. But not quite yet... They still had a few more golden late summer days left, filled with companionship and lazy walks through the woods.
"I wonder if there is magic in this forest," Harry had speculated idly one afternoon as they were lying side by side in the moss, surrounded by shady ferns.
Sirius had smiled then, his gaunt face suddenly younger. "All forests have magic in them, Harry," he said softly. His glance traveled up through the tangled branches above them, toward the golden haze of light that filtered through the dark green of the leaves.
"The magic that they teach you at Hogwarts is only one kind among many, but very few realize that. But there are other, older forms of magic that can't be controlled by spells or wands… Can you feel the power of this place? There is a… a holiness about this forest, an ancient force that grips your heart. Can you feel it?"
Sirius leaned up on his elbow and looked at Harry. His smile transformed his dark face, made it somehow unbearably beautiful. Harry felt a sudden stab of pain – or was it joy? – as he looked up into Sirius' face.
Sirius' face was a flame… Harry couldn't breathe. What was this intolerable longing?
He reached out for Sirius, pulled him closer. And his lips searched for Sirius' lips, pressed toward him in a kiss….
Sirius pulled back. "No!"
He looked at Harry, sudden horror in his dark eyes. "No, Harry, no!"
Harry let go, stung. He looked at Sirius' horrified face and realized the full, terrible nature of his transgression. What had he done? They used to be one, friends, inseparable, and now his impulsive act had created a chasm between them...
Without thinking, Harry leaped to his feet and ran back through the forest toward the Burrow. Thorns tore at his body as he ran through the brambles, but the pain was welcome, soft, dull, compared to the fierce aching of his heart. What had he done???
---
He wanted to hide, but had no chance to do so. Ron and Hermione were suddenly there the moment he came in the front door of the Burrow. They were chattering happily about something…what was it? He had no idea.
Harry found himself pushed into a seat at the dinner table, between Ron and Hermione. Food was piled in front of him, and laughter and voices filled the air. As if everything was normal.
And then the door opened, and Sirius came in. Harry did not look up, but Sirius' presence, his every move, burned through Harry's consciousness.
Harry tried to engage in the meaningless conversation at the table. He chatted lightly with Ron, always aware of the man he never looked at.
What had he done???? He had ruined the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him, put an end to the friendship with the friend he loved above all others.
But suddenly, as the meal was drawing to a close, he felt a light hand on his shoulder. Sirius was standing behind his chair. He bent down and said softly – but loudly enough for Ron and Hermione to hear: "I need a word with you after dinner, Harry. Could you come to my room, please?"
"Of course," said Harry quickly, without looking up. He talked with Hermione about exams until he ran out of things to say… and then Ron and Hermione got up from the table.
They headed out the door together.
"Better find out what Sirius wants, then, Harry," said Ron as they left.
…
Harry's heart was beating wildly as he knocked on Sirius' door. The door was flung open. Sirius was there, pulled him into the room, closed the door.
Harry sank down into a chair and covered his face with his hands.
A hand touched his lightly, pulled his hands away from his face. "Harry?"
Sirius spoke his name so softly, almost tenderly…
Harry kept his glance down.
"I am so sorry!" he burst out. And he pulled his hand away from Sirius' and covered his face again.
"Sorry?" Sirius' voice seemed to come from far away. "Whatever for, Harry?"
This was not the response he had expected. Harry glanced up in utter bewilderment.
Sirius knelt down by his chair, and Harry noted in wonder that his expression was loving, tender… How could this be?
"I am sorry for what I did," Harry mumbled. "It was unforgiveable." He groaned. "I have ruined everything. You are the best and truest friend I ever had, and I have ruined it…"
"Unforgivable?" Sirius' voice was soft. "Do you think so little of me, Harry? Do you think me incapable of forgiving…a kiss?"
Harry felt a hand stroking his hair, softly.
"You are not angry with me?" he asked in wonder. "But you seemed… so… horrified…." His voice trailed off.
A brief smile danced across Sirius' face. Had he always been this handsome?
"Not horrified, Harry," he said in a low voice. "Not horrified, but terrified." He smiled at Harry's confusion.
"How could I feel horror at what you did, Harry? You acted out of love, out of all the stored-up love in your pure heart. But I – oh, Harry – I was terrified by how your sweet, innocent kiss made me feel!"
Sirius grasped Harry's hands, held them, trembling, in his own.
"How can I make you understand this? You are still a child, a boy –"
Harry was about to protest, but Sirius cut him off with an impatient gesture.
"You are, you know, even if you don't think so. You have been through more than most, but you are not yet a man. How could you possibly understand how terrified I was when I, who am your friend, your guardian, your protector, was overwhelmed by the desire to…to…"
His voice faltered. He was silent for a moment. Then he sighed softly. "…to kiss you back," he finished in a low voice.
It was as if all the golden light of the late summer days they had shared were contained in those few words. Harry looked at Sirius in wonder. Was it possible - ?
The afternoon light shone softly through the window. Sirius' eyes were dark, darker than night, burning…
Harry's breath caught in his chest. He reached up, touched Sirius' face.
"Sirius," he whispered. "Do you love me?"
It was not a question he had thought to ask, but a question that sprung, suddenly, from his heart.
Sirius was still for a moment.
"Of course I love you, Harry," he said finally. "You are my dearest, dearest friend in the world. I would go back to Azkaban and suffer the dementors a hundred times over if it could bring you a moment's joy."
Harry met his eyes. "Do you love me just as a friend, then?" he asked. Where did this sudden boldness come from?
Sirius' face flushed. "Oh, Harry, how else can I love you?" he exclaimed. "Your parents trusted me to be your protector, your guardian, your mentor. I will not let them down."
Harry looked at him. Suddenly, he got up and flung his arms around Sirius. Sirius drew his breath sharply, but returned the embrace. Then they stood still, endlessly still, in a tight embrace that seemed to last longer than all eternity. Harry became aware of a wild beating against his chest; then he realized it was Sirius' heart. A sudden joy surged through him, and his lips found Sirius' neck, his face…
Sirius moaned. Softly, sweetly. Harry felt as if the world had stopped. Then, when he found his breath again, he searched, impatiently, for Sirius' lips with his own, and this time, Sirius did not pull away.
Sirius kissed him… Oh, what magic was this? He felt the softness and the fire of Sirius' kisses, felt his body tremble… Time stopped. The world stopped. Nothing else existed, only the unbearable sweetness of this moment.