The Warrior's Way
So.. hi?
Anyways, I know I am super late, but with so much work havoc, I was stuck in between some of my assignments.
I would not rant much, but state the basic points, bear with me.
Writing this chapter was, perhaps, difficult, immensely difficult to add. I just changed my writing style. I think you would like it more than the previous one. A/N style has also changed.
One thing more- I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to its respective owners.
Chapter-12:Changing The Ending
'Although no one can go back to make a brand new start, anyone can start from now, and make a brand new beginning.'
The ticking of the wall clock was all he heard.
His gaze swept over the book that his daughter's boyfriend had given to his younger daughter. The fresh tears fell across his cheeks, gracing them.
"A pureblood is never supposed to show much emotion."
The words of his father rang inside his ears, screaming to follow. Yet here he was, defiant to them.
He barely registered the sob that escaped his wife's lips, or the wide-eyed expression of his daughter.
All he could do was stare at the Potter Lord and Astoria. The grin that graced her lips could light a million lanterns, and the soft gaze of Lord Potter charmed his handsomeness.
Every time, he had seen him- he was stiff and vigilant, consistently trying to show minimum emotions. He was a youngster, and it was an amazing feat of magic for him to hide his emotions too much.
Shaking his head, coming back from his reverie, he just hugged his daughter nice and tight. She was taken aback by the sudden gesture but reciprocated with the same warmth.
It was no sooner than his wife and daughter joined it.
For how long, he wanted his daughter to be free from the curse he knew not. But now, he was sure. He was sure that his daughter would be free. Free from the curse that had haunted him in his sleep.
Those dreams were nightmares. Nightmares that had plagued him endlessly as he would watch his daughter die in front of him, begging him to save her. And all he would do was watch.
He would raise his hand to touch, but till then it would be too late as Death would claim her.
It hurt him how he could do nothing. How vulnerable he was to the cause. He could do nothing. He was prepared to pay any amount to anybody for healing his daughter.
He heard someone say that one could buy anything from money.
How wrong he was.
Here he was, and yet he could not buy happiness. Happiness for his daughter. For his elder daughter. For his wife. For him.
Few words chimed inside his head. Few words he was dying to hear. Few words which he would hear at any cost. Now, they were here for him at the most unexpected place, and at the most unexpected time.
"It's gonna be alright," He assured himself. "It's all gonna be alright."
His eyes again swept to the person who had freed his daughter from that vile curse.
Harry Potter. Harry Potter was his name, and the name would be registered in the mind. He had been a savior for many for many different reasons. But the main reason was that he defeated Lord Voldemort.
But for him, because he cured his daughter.
He had to thank him many times but now he just had to do one thing.
He engulfed him in a hug.
…
Astonishment.
He was filled with astonishment when the Greengrass Patriarch hugged. It was somewhat awkward for him since he had hugged only Sirius and Daphne.
So, he hugged him back or at least pretended to. Placing his arms at the back of the Greengrass lord, he rubbed it peacefully.
Never in his wildest dreams, he had expected Cyrus Greengrass to weep. The Greengrass Lord was what you call the definition of a proper pureblood lord. In no way, he was a blood supremacist like definition.
He was stoic, professional, and stern at times when needed. He cared for his family and spent time with it, not drowning in the glory of his family. He did not loathe anybody and held equality and respect.
"Thank You," he heard the muffled voice. He just stood there, and let Cyrus have his time.
His eyes furrowed when he saw a frown on the face of Greengrass patriarch when he pulled apart.
With the same frown and a gleam of curiosity, he glanced at him, "So, Mister Pot… Harry, how do you know about my daughter's curse?" He inquired casually.
Harry just smiled and stood there.
What was he supposed to say?!
It was another one of his travels in the castle, as he came back to his favorite place. Astronomy Tower.
It was a soft cry that was able to attain his attention. He looked out inside of the Astronomy Tower with a small frame.
He just had to appreciate the mesmerizing beauty of Hogwarts, but he shunned it because his dazzling emerald eyes were fixed on the owner of the cry.
Astoria Greengrass. Her brilliant pale skin was married with the fresh tear which illuminated in the light of the moon, and the tears were clearly visible.
He strolled towards her, seeing that she was not paying him any attention, he panicked. He had never ever comforted a distraught girl, much less one he had a close relationship with.
The last time he tried to comfort Hermione for Merlin knew why he had ended up getting her to cry more furiously.
So, he did what a boy should. He placed a sleeping charm on her.
As the deep slumber consumed the girl, he laid on the soft mattress he had conjured.
She was fast asleep, much to his surprise. He pointed his wand at her head, and just uttered a single word,
"Legilimens."
Now, he could tell him that 'I read your daughter's mind without her permission.'
Masking himself with his best poker face, he stared at the Greengrass Lord. He just stared at his blue eyes which seemed to bore inside his soul and knew every one of his secrets.
Nigh when Cyrus was about to say something, he beat him in, "Why?" He started, playing dumb. "Astoria told me." He informed Cyrus.
Cyrus' eyebrows rose as he looked at the youngest questioningly, "Really? Astoria, you told him."
Astoria shook his head in defiance, "I did not."
"You did," he prompted before Cyrus could question him. "Remember… the night on Astronomy Tower… when you were crying… and asked you what happened… and then… then you told me."
Shake.
She shook her head again but before she could utter anything, the same baritone voice continued, "Well I-I must go now, Sirius would be worrying… and I would come in the evening to perform the ritual... Don't worry about the stuff needed, I already have it. Bye Cyrus "
And before anyone could say a single thing, he disappeared in the green flames.
.
.
.
.
"Well, shit!" Roxanne cussed, flummoxing everyone. After all, it was not often when she cussed.
"What happened?" Cyrus inquired, worriedly.
Roxanne's head went down, "I forgot to thank him." She grumbled.
Cyrus sighed and gave a chuckle, "You can do it, later."
"Nor did I," Daphne informed, gathering everyone's attention.
Another sigh escaped Cyrus' mouth and he chuckled again, "You can do it later too."
{SCENE BREAK}
The whole session ended in a blink of an eye.
The teachers were doing their best to ensure that the students achieved great results in upcoming exams, most notably Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick.
Whilst the classes had been a little boring for him, his boredom always vanished under the tutelage of Salazar Slytherin.
He found the man to be philosophical at times. Some of the best life lessons Harry had learned from him. Whilst he was doing his best in learning parselmagic, Salazar had still restricted some of the darker tomes.
Learning Dark Magic without corrupting his brain was another tough challenge for him. He still found the after-effects of that magic to be very violent.
It explained how Tom Riddle, a handsome and genius man, went to the path of the most feared Dark Lord in history.
Even though he loathed the name with a passion, he could not deny the skills Tom possessed. Excellent wandwork. Affinity for Battle magic, with the same excellence of Charms, Dark Magic, and Necromancy.
He still found it amusing that Tom never took interest in Parsel Magic, because the whole magic was healing based, and few of the spells could cause potential damage.
Necromancy was sternly restricted by Salazar. Albeit, the field of magic attained his attention, and he was interested in learning it. His tutor was very reluctant to teach.
He snorted when he thought of Sirius.
It did astonish him when a war-hardened warrior who (if not went to Azkaban) would have been the Head of Auror Department could shamelessly cry in front of the public for his Godson. Needless to say, it didn't stop him from saying a snarky remark to Sirius.
Then, he would get another rebuke from Sirius, angering him, and their lashing fight would begin.
He had also shared some intimacy with Daphne. They did kiss sometimes, but they were not like those couples who just date to activities.
The whole school was shocked, at first, when the Boy Who Lived began courting Daphne Greengrass, the Slytherin Ice Queen. He still remembered when Daphne froze a boy's genitals when the boy tried to be close with her before he could act on that boy.
Another snort escaped his lips at the thought.
He and Sirius were going to shift to Grimmauld Place for this summer, and perhaps for more time.
Since Sirius was rather fond of his old home, he had to insist on trying to live there again. That home, only, brought Sirius his bad memories. How he was cast out from his own home by his harpy of the mother, the abuse.
When Sirius had told him about his childhood, he understood why Sirius was so protective of him.
The same Sirius had suffered. He knew from the close how it felt to be a stranger in one's own home.
He was pressured by his family to be a perfect 'Black.' Just like he was in public to be the Boy Who Lived. The Wizarding World Savior. The Heir of Light.
He just…did not want to be that. He just wanted to be Harry. Normal Harry. A Harry who would enjoy his life with his friends. A Harry who was not Savior of Light. A Harry who was allowed to make his own choice. A Harry who was... normal.
He wanted to be normal. Sirius wanted the same.
To be able to hang out with friends. Enjoy his teenage years. Not be bound by someone's blood. Be normal. Be free.
Freedom.
The reason why people fought against the Dark Lord. They wanted their freedom from his tyranny. They wanted freedom from his wrath. His baseless belief. His views of society.
He was nothing but a terrorist. A terrorist who precisely hid his motives behind the pureblood moments. The Dark Lord was power-hungry, and a manipulator. He manipulated people for his own favor.
From the information, Sirius told him about his father. His father fought the Dark Lord for his mother, and his beliefs.
His beliefs were far from different from one's of the Dark Lord. His father was one of the best Aurors of their age, and perhaps, the one with most skills in transfiguration, there.
His father fought the Dark Lord because of his belief. His mother fought because of the rights of Muggleborn.
And he would fight the Dark Lord for vengeance and give him the most crucible death possible.
Vengeance.
Vengeance for tainting his family legacy. Vengeance for killing his family. Vengeance for his mother, father, and grandparents. Vengeance for his Godmother. Vengeance for himself.
The Dark Lord would perish in his hands as the Prophecy spoke. Either one of them must die, and he would ensure that it would be Voldemort. He would have Sirius and Remus fighting beside him.
He needed nothing more to fight the war.
Shaking his head and breaking himself from his reverie, he finished the last sip of his coffee. He was amused by the fact that he could rant in his head.
He stood from his seat and removed the dust present on his shoulder.
He looked at the ceiling blankly, and only one thought was running in his temple.
Perhaps, he could live a normal life.
One day.
{SCENE BREAK}
"Ready to have your ass beaten up, kiddo?"
The voice rang in his ears as his nostrils flared. Damn, Sirius! Riling him up with his snarky comments.
A ghost of a smirk appeared on his face, "I think I should say that to you, Paddy." He replied.
Sirius did not reply, and looked thoughtful, "You know, I would admit that you are powerful, more than I am, but in terms of experience you are nothing but a kid."
He raised an eyebrow at his Godfather. What he had said was true, whilst he might be more powerful than Sirius, he was not experienced like Sirius.
Also, Sirius was considered as one of the best Auror's of his term when he had no idea of Black Family Magic. Now Sirius had embraced the magic of his family, along with Dark Curses which he had never used before.
He nodded slowly, "You're right, I may or may not win." He admitted.
After a moment of eerie silence, the deep voice of his Godfather snapped his attention, "So, what are the terms of the duel? Also the rules?"
He arched an eyebrow, "Shouldn't you know about it? After all, it was you who proposed the duel." He asked.
Sirius blinked owlishly, "Well, I did not think about them," He responded sheepishly.
He twirled his wand in his hand, "What are the stakes then?"
Padfoot rubbed his chin with his fingers before a wide, mischievous spread on his face, "The loser would clean the bathroom without magic and help, and would cook dinner for two days and nights."
An evil smile made its way to his face, "Do you think you could do this all, Padfoot?" He furrowed his eyebrows as his emerald glowed and turned demonic red.
Sirius looked confused, but he looked at him with playful anger, "It would be you who would lose."
He shrugged, "We'll see."
"Hey, Sirius," he started, gathering Sirius's attention.
Sirius looked at him dumbfounded, "What?"
He ruffled through his hair, "We haven't decided the referee." He stated.
The Black Lord facepalmed, "Right.." His sentence trailed off as he glanced at his Godson, "We could make Tipsy referee or Grandfather or Grandmother, anyone."
He inclined his head, "Tipsy." He called out. With a pop, the house-elf appeared in front of them, "Could you please bring the portraits?" He requested. Giving a deep bow, the house-elf vanished.
Tipsy brought the four portraits in the training room and hung them up on the wall.
He chortled when he heard Arcturus grumble, "Why the hell do you keep relocating us?" The others seemed to agree with him.
"Well, do you think any of you could become a referee for us?" He questioned, pointing between him and Sirius.
Dorea's eyebrows furrowed, "You both are going to duel?"
"Yup," Sirius admitted.
He heard Cassiopeia sigh, "Let's get over it."
Both nodded.
They both took their stances, ten meters apart from each other. Harry's eyes turned demonic red as they bored into the gray ones of Sirius.
"You both are allowed to use all the spells that do not cause permanent damage. No unforgivables," Cassiopeia informed. "You would start on my command. One, Two, and THREE!"
The two spells crashed with each other in perfect harmony. The deep blue spell of Sirius collided with the emerald Green of Harry. Their immediate start flummoxed the audience of four who were watching them.
He withdrew his spell as he ducked the one of his Godfather. As he waved his wand and created a black mist, and he blended inside it. With the help of his eyes, he was able to track Sirius' location.
He sent a blasting hex but the ex-auror managed to dodge the spell and sent one towards him which blasted him a few feet away.
He coughed out, and a small amount of blood spewed on his fist. "As I said, you may be fast, powerful, or even smart. But you are using the patterns that thousands had used in the previous war. Tell me something, Harry, why are humans at the top of the food chain?" Sirius stated, standing few feet apart from him
He looked at Sirius, trying to find an answer but to no avail, he could not.
Seeing his desperate state, Sirius answered, "Because, we adapt to a situation the fastest. It matters not who is the most powerful or fastest but who is the most adaptable."
Nodding, he grunted slightly. It took some effort to stand up, but he removed the blood spewed from his fist. "Yes, sir." His eyes were ablaze and filled with determination.
Sirius' lips twitched into a smirk, "Then, show me what you can do."
He wore a smirk that thoroughly matched Sirius', "Yes, sir." He replied.
Before Sirius could say anything, a purple spell made its way towards him, and his Godfather cast a shielding charm that absorbed the spell. His eyes widened when another spell came towards him from another direction.
Sirius, with his quick reaction, managed to absorb that spell too, but before he could move a little, he felt an overpowering punch at his gut, shoving him slightly apart.
Padfoot rubbed his gut, "Distraction, huh?" He chuckled, "Not too unorthodox, but enough."
"You bet," he replied.
But was blasted away. "Another rule of a fight- Never get distracted," Sirius informed.
"As you did," he quipped.
Sirius gave a chuckle, "Yeah, As I did."
Another string of spells collided forming another choir of music. The essence of magic spread throughout the room. His wand was going through immense pressure, but was holding as was Sirius'.
'Seems like Sirius' new wand is working fine.' He mused internally.
Yup.
It was nothing special. Well, it was. With a length of fourteen inches, the wand was made up of Blackwood, a claw of Direwolf as a claw, with pure platinum that stabilized the wand. It was a piece of artwork that Sirius appreciated.
Once again, Lackius Greenwich had outdone himself.
"Fulmen," he whispered in a soft voice. Lighting coursed around his wand as he twirled it. Lightning spread throughout the room, giving it myriad colors. As one bolt of lightning made its way towards Sirius, his godfather raised his wand in front of him.
"Magnum Aegis!" A bright blue gigantic shield appeared in front of the ruggedly handsome man and sucked up the spell without difficulty.
That was Mage Shield. That was, perhaps, the most powerful shield in existence. He was firstly flabbergasted when Sirius pulled it off on his third try when he was still struggling with the spell.
The fabled shield was rumored to even stop the killing curse, but no one ever tried. The Shield was conjured with utmost precautions. There had been some incidents when people had died whilst conjuring it because of its draining nature. Nothing could penetrate it, and it offered full protection.
Smirking, he mentally thought, 'Soporo.' A dark blasting curse, far more lethal and dangerous than the normal one.
But again, shocked, his Godfather stopped it. He grumbled again, he was sure that Sirius had no idea what he was going to do, and yet he was here. He had stopped with him easily.
He sent another spell lethal. Then another. Again. Another one. Again. Another, and again.
Sirius stopped them all.
Why?
He was doing his best, he had beaten Aurors before, he was powerful, fast, and everything needed to beat a strong opponent. He could not beat Padfoot.
Why?
How much he did. He just kept going. He practiced, practiced, and practiced. Was he not strong enough?
Had he wasted his time? A year and a half, and yet he was not good enough. He had practiced all this time. Practice to be strong, smart, and the one who would be able to protect someone.
He inhaled and shut his eyes. He did not notice the purple beam that blasted him. He did not notice his Godfather approaching. He did not notice that he was falling unconscious. He just did not want to notice.
He just wanted to go. Go to a place where he can rest. Where he belonged.
.
.
.
.
Everything was… blur for him. His eyelids snapped open, revealing emerald orbs that momentarily changed to demonic red before turning back to his original color.
Everything was still a blur for him. His hands twitched, and he felt massive pain in his lower abdomen which he shunned.
He struggled a little, but with his slight movements, he was able to lay comfortably.
His eyes fluttered again. Now, everything was a little more recognizable than before. His ears perked up when he heard soft tone whispers.
"-he's awake."
"-was surprised that he did not scream when the curse hit him."
"-hell of a blasting curse that was."
"-oh hush, you two."
With another final struggle, he reached out for the glass of water that was situated near the table lamp. With some sturdy grip, he gulped down the whole glass, drinking its content.
He grunted as the cold water cooled down his temperature. He rubbed his eyes again. The world was coming back into the light, he noted. When he was about to see the surroundings, he felt a tremendous thrust on his body.
"Harry!" That was Sirius' voice, he recognized. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need anything? I am sorry."
"I am fine, Sirius," he croaked out in his raspy voice. "And don't mention it."
Seeing his restless efforts at getting comfortable, Sirius took the nearest pillow and placed it at one end of the bed. He moved towards the pillow and laid his back on it.
He deflated audibly as he snuggled closer to the pillow.
It was comforting. All of his pain washed over, leaving only slight aches. He heard some cracks from his bones but decided to shun them.
Just one skele-gro and they would be fixed.
As the warm comfort soothed him, he looked at the man he had lost to, "You beat my ass as you promised."
Sirius gave him a chuckle, "I did, but truly was surprised when you held against me for so long."
He just hummed idly as his gaze swept to the white sheets, thinking something profoundly.
He was buried by questions, yet he had no answer to any one of them. Did he underestimate Sirius? Or did he overestimate himself? He knew not, but one thing he was sure that there was a fault in his logic.
His gaze swept again as he looked at the mahogany door idly and he just… thought. He knew not what he was thinking, but he was not ready to see his flaws.
Perhaps, he was too scared to face his flaws. Was he taking great bliss in his ignorance? Or was he just not good enough?
"What are you thinking?" A nigh peaceful voice asked him.
His head jerked from his reverie, and he turned around to face the man who had beaten him.
Another Stare.
He was not speaking. Perhaps, he did not want to, or he was too tired to. Finally, when Sirius was becoming more worried, he just gave a shake of his head, "N-Nothing," he denied.
It was not enough for Sirius.
"You obviously are," his Godfather pointed out, almost accusingly.
Another Shake. "I'm not!" It was a shout that baffled Sirius, and he was not oblivious to it. Never he had raised his voice against Sirius. He was guilty of it, but there was no ground to apologize.
Finally, he sighed. Exasperation, worry, relief, sadness, and a turmoil of emotion were filled in that sigh. "I-I just d-don't know what to say… Sirius."
"What happened?" The soothing voice questioned. It was not the best situation to ask anything but he had to persuade him.
With no emotions, he looked at Sirius, "I just lost." He stated blankly
"And?"
"I just lost." He snapped again, this time more forcefully with an indescribable exasperation.
…
"So what?"
He just stared at him blankly. He was not able to comprehend anything that his Godson had said.
How could his mood turn so foul after losing?
Sirius had expected, and he knew, that his Godson had more willpower than this. Thee.. why? This sudden outbreak of emotion, why?
'
"It just feels weird." The same baritone voice continued. The voice attained his attention. "I-I have never l-lost before, so losing just doesn't feel right," Harry informed.
After those words, it clicked him.
Lose. The taste was sour. The first loss always hits hard for anyone and everyone. It was not shameful to lose, but human's pride had always come in their way of wisdom.
There was a time when Sirius was suffering from his first loss, after all, it had wounded his pride.
Pride mattered more than anything at that time, just like now.
At that time, Dorea had helped him to get over the loss, the strained pride could always be healed, but only a few healed it.
He had his Aunt Dorea for him, but Harry. Harry had no one, no mother, father, grandfather, grandfather, not someone close enough to comfort him.
With another shake of his head, Sirius caught a glimpse of his Godson. The same broken expression that he wore for some time in the past.
This was not the time to stare, he reminded himself. "This is the first you lost?" He blurted out, amazed.
Harry grinned, "Yup. Never lost before. Even old Voldie was not able to beat me in the first and second years.
Sirius nodded; He was still mad at Dumbledore because of his Godfather facing Voldemort at Hogwarts, which was considered the safest place on the whole Magical Britain.
"It must have been hard to defeat Voldemort," Sirius added, thoughtfully.
"It was, at the same time, it was not." His Godson's thoughtful reply somewhat bewildered him.
…
With his eyebrows furrowed, Sirius looked at him with eyes, filled with curiosity, "What do you mean?"
Harry's movements in the bed, certainly became panicked as he sought comfort near the edge of the mattress.
Grunting, he rested his back on another pillow near, "You know, when I was fighting Tom," he stated, "I had skills that I would admit. I had enough skills to beat a first-year, probably a second-year too." He added. "I fought as much as I could, but I would have never beaten him without mom."
"Lily?" Sirius asked, flummoxed.
"Yup. It was her sacrifice that helped to beat Voldemort. Then, second-year came. I, with the help of Hermione, figured out where the chamber was. Ron and I went down, I know it was foolish, but we had to take the risk. At the time, Lockhart was being dealt with by Ron, and I went inside. I, with some help of a sorting hat, managed to stab Basilisk across his mouth, but the basilisk bit me. Fawkes healed me later, so it is of no concern."
Sirius remained silent, waiting for his Godson to continue.
"Then, I raided Azkaban, at the end of the summer vacation. Another foolish act of mine, but I really don't regret it." He shared a grin with Sirius. "I defeated the Aurors there, and helped you to escape." He grunted again.
Sirius was about to open his mouth, but Harry beat him in, "You know, from time to time -whether it is fate or people, matters not- I was reminded that I was lucky. In the first year, the second year, and the third year, I was lucky. And now… now, it looks like my luck has run out. Finally, I lost to you, when my luck ran out." He finished, with an obvious dry chuckle.
…
It was almost impossible to solve the problem in his opinion.
It seemed like his Godson was thinking a lot, in his stead. If Sirius was being serious here, then his Godson could be a good philosopher in his opinion.
It was not a problem, he believed, he could solve. His childhood was far from happy, much like Harry's. He had parents, yet he had none. Harry did not have parents. He also suffered from abuse like Harry.
He had no experience of parenting anyone, much less influencing anyone with words.
Albeit, he also had love. Marlene McKinnon was her name. He planned to propose to her after the war was over.
But tragedy took her too soon than he had expected.
Sirius had no experience of parenting, but he would do his best.
He had promised James, after all. 'A Black never backs down from one's promises.' He reminded himself.
He might have hated his name a few years ago, but now he wore the same name with pride.
"Tell me," he started. The Potter who was looking at the sheets snapped his head towards him.
"Yes?" Harry drawled.
He bored his gray orbs into the green ones of his Godson, "Why do you think you lost?" His statement was fast enough to not be caught by anyone.
Harry jerked, coming closer to him, "I beg your pardon."
"I said 'Why do you think you lost'?" He repeated, his eyes still not leaving Harry's.
Harry hummed, thinking thoroughly for the answer. His head was inclined towards the sheet he was staring at before.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Harry glanced back at him, "Because, you were more powerful." He guessed.
Sirius shook his head, "Partially, but there is more to it."
"Because you were faster." Another guess, but this one was more unsure than the previous one.
"Nah, I am an old coot, you were faster than I was." He joked, but he was telling the truth.
Harry arched an eyebrow, "Really?"
Nod. "Yup. This time, think deeply, then tell why you lost?"
"Because you had more experience." He guessed again.
'That's the one.' He mused, "Exactly, Harry, exactly. I am more than twice your age. So, I have battle experience, I was also part of the previous and fought in front lines. Throughout, the life I have fought most the people Aurors, Death Eater, werewolves, butchers, assassins, vampires-"
"Wait for a second," Harry interrupted. "You have fought vampires?" He asked, flabbergasted.
"Yup," He admitted proudly. "In the previous war, they fought alongside Voldemort and the Dark Faction."
Another moment of silence.
"Anyways as I was saying, I have fought with almost every creature you would encounter. Hell, I even fought Voldemort three times. Then, you are only one, but I have assaulted more than one opponent at a time."
"So have I."
"They were not the Aurors-"
"Wait for a second, then who were they?"
"Let me finish my sentence, they were Aurors but not as skilled as they should be."
"What are you trying to say?"
"See, Harry, the Aurors you faced were not as skilled as an Auror is. The people posted in the Azkaban region are not skilled, but they are paid immensely… DO NOT INTERRUPT ME… Since Azkaban is dangerous because of the tremendous presence of Dementors, few of the people prefer to get posted there. Only a quarter of the Wizarding population in Britain can produce Patronus charm, and this includes Aurors."
"So you are saying only a few Aurors can produce Patronus Charm?"
"Exactly. Most of the Aurors can pull it off. You may think it is easy but for most people, it is not. Patronus Charm requires high-level concentration, with an unbreakable happy memory. You would be surprised to know that many Aurors can not produce a simple shielding charm."
"You are joking." Harry accused.
He shook his head, "No I am not. It may come easy to you, but for most people, it is not. As I was saying before… the Aurors posted at Azkaban can produce Patronus and Shielding Charm, but they can not do much offensive magic."
"But how this related to 'Experience?'"
"I am coming there, be patient." Harry shut his mouth audibly. "Now, the Aurors you faced were not as skilled and experienced as they should be. But, let me tell you something, Harry. If some of the seniors Aurors would have been there, then you had no chance to succeed."
The statement was blunt, but Harry understood what he was trying to say to him.
He continued, "Mother Magic has gifted us all with five senses- you know, the basic taste, smell, hear, touch and sight. These five senses - with the course of time - change into what you call intuition. Intuition is like a sixth sense, and it comes with experience. When you would develop your intuition, then you would be able to guess the attacks. Everything would be far easier for you than before."
Stare.
It was almost ominous as Harry stared at him idly, "What?" He asked.
"Sirius," Harry addressed him, amusedly. "Since when you are so smart?"
"I was always smart, you just didn't know." He rebuked.
"Whatever," Harry grumbled, covering himself with sheets.
.
.
.
.
"You are being damn noble, nowadays," Arcturus commented when he was reading some old magazine after Harry went to sleep.
Sirius pardoned him with a glimpse, "What do you want to say?"
"That was some intense lecture that you gave to Harry," Cassiopeia noted, arching an eyebrow. "As good as mine"
He was unsure what to say whether to be proud or throttle the woman for saying he was like her, so he settled with a grunt.
"Yeah, you were still a kid when you were twenty Sirius, but now you are acting like an old man in his sixties," Dorea added in the conversation.
He gave them a heavy sigh, "What are you trying to say?"
"We meant that you were acting like an adult you should be, not like a kid you used to be," Arcturus replied, his hands at the back.
"Why are acting so mature suddenly?" Charlus asked, finally bringing him into the conversation.
"It is for Harry," He answered with uncertainty.
"Means?" Cassiopeia in her usual pureblood form asked.
He turned to them, and gawked, "You know, I was not in his life for more than ten years. Ten years. The precious years which I had missed become my foolishness." He twirled his wand in his hand.
"I could be a huge part of his life If I had not gone to capture Peter. I could have changed his life entirely. But sadly, I was not there. I could have been a huge part of his life, had I not made that mistake."
"It's okay, Sirius," Dorea consoled.
"No, it is not!" He snapped at them, making them flinch. "Sorry for my outburst. But you should know, Aunt Dorea, that I know loneliness more than you four, and from the same loneliness Harry suffered. I never wanted it, yet I was not able to do anything."
Fresh tears started to brim in his eyes, making them wet. "When I took the Godfather oath, I promised to keep him safe… always. I gave a promise to James. To keep safe under any and all circumstances, and I failed James too."
The four remained silent, not wanting to speak anything. They were flummoxed when they heard Sirius chuckle.
"But now, I know that I could not change the past. There is no way, right? So, I am not changing it, nor making an effort, but I am trying to change the present by making waves so that I could change the ending." He finished.
Another eerie silence passed.
"You are doing a damn good job, Sirius," Charlus answered in a surprisingly soft voice.
"I just hope so."
On that day Charlus and Potter, and Arcturus and Cassipiea Black realized that James Potter did the best by making Sirius Orion Black the Godfather of Harry Potter.
And he was willing to go to any extent for his Godson.
Hope you liked it.
After all, reading I think all of you can guess why I was saying that it was the hardest one.
Since the first ten chapters of my story were crappy, I am trying to portrait the characters more sincerely, and am actually putting some effort into it.
Now, many of you would say that how can Harry lose to Sirius, and didn't Harry beat the Aurors before, then, the ones who had read carefully must have got my points.
Also, I portrayed Sirius as more mature than he was. I forgot to mention before but all of the characters are a bit OOC.
Anyways, the next chapter of The Death's Raven would be uploaded in three days, at least I think so.
I am editing it too. Trying to make it more sensible and original. Do check it out.
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