WARNING: blood, violence, mentions of self-harm.
A/N: Guess who's back from the void of writer's block. I'm not abandoning this, don't worry. School and mental health just said, 'Fuck you, have a year of no motivation.'
...
'Hey, Potter! Is it true that you and Granger are dating?'
This was the fifth person to ask him that today. Harry made a noise of frustration and exclaimed, 'Oh, for fuck's sake, Hermione and I are not dating!'
'Why don't you go and shove it up the –'
'Ronald!'
'What?' asked Ron, turning his head sideways to look at Hermione, who was walking on Harry's other side. 'Aren't you bothered by them as well?' He then reddened and added, 'Sorry, Harry, mate. If it wasn't for me raising a stink yesterday, none of this would have happened.'
'Yeah, sure,' snapped Harry and walked faster, leaving his best friends scrambling to catch up with him. All day, he'd been on edge, something which was only enhanced by the rumours about him and Hermione.
'Harry,' said Hermione, panting, as she touched his shoulder. 'He'll be all right.'
Sirius had called him late last night and, after a very awkward conversation where Harry reassured Sirius that no, he did not beat him while drunk and had never so much as pulled a hair on Harry's head, told him that he was ready to do it. To break into Lestrange Manor.
Harry had not gone to sleep after that and had been worried ever since. If the battle had gone to plan, then Sirius would have known to call him as soon as possible. And if he hadn't, well, that meant that either the battle was still in progress – for there had to be a battle, Harry didn't know what else could delay Sirius, if not Death Eaters – or Sirius was –
'Mr Potter,' said a sickly sweet voice, 'Would you mind tucking your shirt in? And put a smile on your face, today's such a bright day!'
'Oh, shut up, you old hag!' snapped Harry, relishing in the way Umbridge's face scrunched up as though she'd just smelt something unsavoury. Today, despite being a Saturday, was less than bright, and he really did not care for the week of detentions that the hag immediately assigned him beyond thinking that it was totally unfair.
...
Sirius managed to spin out of the Fire-Making Charm's way just in time, though he could not help but cry out in pain when it grazed his arm. He snarled and cast a Blasting Curse at Lucius Malfoy – he'd know that hair anywhere, it had to be him, – swearing loudly when the latter conjured up a shield and it rebounded and exploded part of the wall behind Sirius, sending dust in his eyes and impairing his vision significantly as he blinked rapidly to get the particles of marble out of his eyes. The hall swam and the two remaining Death Eaters blurred as Sirius' eyes watered.
'Avada Kedavra!'
Sirius scrambled to get out of the way of the curse and gasped when a pair of strong arms pushed him out of the way. He used the opportunity to quickly cast a charm on his eyes. His vision cleared and he gasped again and then let a small smile spread over his lips when he saw Kingsley, who had been the one to push him out of the way, Hestia, Nymphadora and Mad-Eye in a standard duelling formation. He wasted no more time and quickly joined them in circling the Death Eaters. They were outnumbered, and by the looks on their faces, they knew it as well. A quick glance at the other three Death Eaters showed him that someone – most likely Mad-Eye – had bound them.
Sirius stumbled out of the way of a Killing Curse and slammed into Hestia, wincing when he saw her trip and take a curse to the leg. He wished he could look away as bits of her leg splattered on every person in the corridor, the woman herself screaming loudly, tears starting to stream down her face. Nymphadora moved to stand in front of her and Sirius sent her a grateful look, but to his dismay, she responded with a glare and continued fighting.
Sirius saw the exact moment when the Death Eaters decided to retreat. Malfoy shook his head at the other Death Eater – Nott, it had turned out when Kingsley had blasted his mask off – and they proceeded to slowly back up. Sirius waved his wand at the entrance door and slammed it shut, but Nott waved his wand rapidly and suddenly all the windows exploded and all the lights went out.
By the time one of the Order Members cast a Lumos, the two Death Eaters were gone.
...
'Hello,' said Hermione as she gazed at the group of students in front of them.
Not a single person responded. Hermione fidgeted and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Beside her, Ron glared at everyone in the room.
Since it was a Saturday, Hermione had talked to the people she thought would be interested and asked them to meet her at a bar called the Hog's Head at twelve o'clock. Harry had let her do the recruiting, seeing as he didn't know half the people she'd invited. He still hadn't expected the sheer amount of people that had come, though.
Hermione cleared her throat and tried again, 'Hello. You all know why you're here, so –'
'Why're you talking, though?' asked a boy with dark hair and a scrunched up face, 'Isn't Potter going to be the one teaching us?'
'Well, he is, but –'
'Then why won't he speak for himself? Potter supposedly fought You-Know-Who, yet he still needs his girlfriend to protect him from his classmates?'
'Yeah, well, why don't you –'
Harry nudged Ron with his elbow and sent him a look. Hermione seemed to get it as well, because she closed her mouth abruptly and took a step back. Satisfied that his friends weren't going to interrupt him, he turned all of his focus onto the boy, who stared back at him defiantly, though the effect was lost slightly by the fact that Harry was standing and he was sitting down.
'You might be under the impression that just because I've agreed to at least try teaching you ignorant imbecilic halfwits means I'll be taking all your shit. Well,' said Harry, leaning onto the table dangerously, 'if you're only here to find out what happened to Cedric, then you can take your questions and your attitude and stuff them up your filthy arse.'
Hermione gasped, along with a few other people. A blond Hufflepuff Harry had seen in the halls a few times got up and spat, 'You're full of shit, Potter,' as he walked out. To Harry's dismay, most of the others followed. Cho was the last one to exit the pub – though, Harry noticed with no small amount of satisfaction, she was being pulled along by her curly haired friend and looked reluctant to go.
'Well, that went well,' said Ron, and Harry suddenly had an urge to kick his best friend in the shins.
'Did you see the way Harry got them, though?' said Fred, chortling. 'Ignorant imbecilic halfwits? I wouldn't have thought of that!'
'Well, of course you wouldn't have, I'm the better twin,' said George, puffing his chest up proudly, to which Fred snorted and said dramatically, 'Mum dropping him on his head was all George needed to unlock the resources hidden deep within the recesses of his brain –'
Both twins cracked up. Harry felt himself smiling as well, but the smile quickly fell off his face when he glanced toward the door of the pub again. The anger he'd felt moments ago returned. How dare they come in there and act like they were entitled to his help? He owed them nothing! He felt especially betrayed at Angelina, Alicia and Katie leaving, even though they'd said it was because the meeting was over and not out of any dislike towards him.
He felt a hand clap his shoulder and looked down to his side to see Ginny gazing at the door as well, a dark scowl on her face. She looked up at him and said, 'Don't worry, you did well. They're just shallow. Really, Hermione, where did you find those people?' she asked, raising her voice slightly and turning her head towards Hermione, who was still standing frozen in place. 'I'd have thought you had better taste.'
Hermione shook her head, seemingly breaking out of her stupor, and stammered, 'Well, they, uh, they were the best I could find, and they seemed interested at the time, so I thought –'
Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. If the friendliest people were those, what did that say about the school's opinion of him?
'Don't mind them, Harry,' said Ginny determinedly. 'They don't know you like we do.'
As Harry felt his spirits lift, he realised that he didn't know Ginny at all, beyond her status as Ron's sister, though, clearly, she wasn't the same girl who had put her elbow in the butter dish the first time he'd come to visit.
...
Perhaps swearing at them hadn't been the best idea, Harry reflected as he made his way to Umbridge's office, ears still sore from Hermione's tongue lashing. Hermione had been quite cross with him after she'd regained power of speech again. That all four of the Weasleys did nothing but look on and laugh at him didn't help any.
Three hours of slicing his skin later, Harry ran through the halls, not willing to miss dinner as well. Umbridge, the toad, had seemingly decided that she needed some beauty sleep (not that it would help her any), so all of the detentions had been scheduled for lunch instead of close to midnight. Harry missing a meal was an added bonus.
'Harry!'
Harry stumbled to a stop and only barely avoided colliding with Hermione. Noticing their close proximity, he quickly hid his hand in his robes.
'I was just going to meet – Harry, what's with your hand?'
Not quickly enough, it seemed, for Harry winced as Hermione grabbed his hand, her mouth open in what looked to be shock. Harry felt his face heating up.
'It's nothing,' he said and pulled his hand away, hiding it in his robes.
'Harry, I – if you ever need to talk or anything, I'm –'
'What?'
Then it dawned on him.
'You think I cut?' he asked, disbelief colouring his voice. Was that really the conclusion people jumped to when they saw a scratch on someone's skin? Besides, it wasn't even his arm! Wasn't that where people usually harmed themselves, forearms or thighs? Harry shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, breathing out in frustration. 'I do not cut! Besides, why on earth would I write that?' he added, brandishing his hand at Hermione's face.
Hermione's eyes widened and she grabbed it, fingers digging painfully into Harry's skin as she read the phrase which would likely be burnt into his skin forever now. Harry watched the skin between her eyebrows crumple, and when she lifted her eyes to meet his, her voice was deadly low as she uttered her next three words, 'She will pay.'
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry's lips slid apart to reveal his teeth in a half-smile, half-smirk, and he replied, 'Yeah, she will. For everything.'
'But first you have to promise me to tell Sirius,' said Hermione sternly and held up her finger when Harry attempted to protest, 'I know how you can be with these things, so promise you'll tell Sirius.'
'I – yeah, okay,' conceded Harry, already dreading the coming conversation. He knew Sirius would be angry – no, enraged – and he really wasn't looking forward to having to convince him not to charge into Umbridge's office straight away, murder her and do unspeakable things to her dead body.
'Good. Now come on, weren't you in a hurry?'
'Yeah, let's go before I miss yet another meal.'
The two turned and quickly made their way to the Great Hall, and Harry was sure he wasn't the only one to silently curse whoever had decided to build so many staircases in a school that didn't need half of its floors anyway.
A hush fell as they entered and all eyes turned to Harry, who rolled his eyes. Was the Daily Prophet at it again or had the attendants of that disastrous meeting told everyone about him losing his temper? Harry quickly strode over to the Gryffindor table and snatched a paper out of a first year's' hands, ignoring his cry of "Hey, that's mine!" and Hermione's chiding exclamation of his name.
LESTRANGE MANOR DESTROYED, DARK MARK IN THE SKY, SUSPECTED TO BE WORK OF DEATH EATERS
As he read the headline, Harry didn't know whether to be worried or excited. The bit about Death Eaters making it into the paper meant that a good chunk of the wizarding population of Britain believed it, or at least were more open to the idea than they had been before. Which, in turn, meant that making everyone believe Harry might be easier than he'd thought.
But Death Eaters. What had gone wrong? Had someone sold them out? No one except Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sirius had known of the plan. And Lestrange Manor was destroyed, its charred remains flashing up at Harry from the newspaper he'd put down. How had Sirius escaped that alive?
Unless...Luckily, before Harry could finish that thought, he felt his pocket vibrate. He met Hermione's eyes and pointed to his thigh, then quickly stood up and made his way out of the Great Hall. Just around the corner, he raised some spells that would keep out any student and fumbled with his robe as he fished the mirror out of it, almost dropping it in his haste to answer.
'Sirius!'
His godfather frowned in concentration as he adjusted the mirror on what Harry assumed were his knees and then eased into a smile, though it did not hide how tired he looked.
'Harry! I'm glad to see you're all right and not at Grimmauld demanding to know why I didn't call earlier.'
Harry felt himself smile, relieved. Sirius wasn't visibly injured, though he had dark bags under his eyes. Judging by the pillow he was leaning against, he had been sleeping and that was why he hadn't called earlier.
'I'm glad you're all right, too. So what happened?'
'Well, everything was all right until the Death Eaters showed up. There was four of them, including Malfoy and Nott,' Sirius made an expression of distaste, 'and things...weren't going too well. But then the Order arrived and, well, there were some injuries, but we all made it out alive.'
By the way Sirius paled as he said the word "injuries", Harry guessed that whatever had happened hadn't been pretty.
'How on earth did such a small amount of people manage to bring that manor to the ground?'
'Oh, that wasn't us. My guess is that they decided to get rid of it in case the Ministry would use spells to sense that they'd been there. When we left it was still intact.'
'You got the key, right?'
'Yeah, I –,' Sirius's face shook as he adjusted himself and then suddenly the other side of the mirror spun and Harry was left looking at the ceiling as he heard his godfather curse. A moment later Sirius's arm appeared and Harry gasped. One side was badly burnt, while the other was covered in unmistakably fresh pink scars. As Sirius reappeared in the mirror, Harry asked, 'What happened to your arm?'
'A gift from the Death Eaters,' said Sirius, scowling. 'It'll heal, don't worry.'
'And...the scars?' asked Harry, dreading the answer already.
Sirius seemed to freeze for a moment and his face was tinged red as he answered, 'I...lost control of myself.'
'But you –'
'It was the locket, okay? It changes people.'
Harry was silent for a moment, then nodded.
'Okay.'
...
'Hey, Pot – uh, Harry, can we talk?'
Harry sighed and put his nightclothes down.
'What is it, Seamus?' he asked as he turned to face the other boy, who seemed nervous for some reason.
Seamus fiddled with his robe and took a moment to answer.
'I read the Prophet and, well, I and my mum – that is, we believe you.'
Harry would have been more surprised by Seamus's declaration if countless people hadn't told him the same earlier that day. It seemed that the Daily Prophet could restore his reputation as easily as it had ruined it.
'That's good to hear, Seamus.'
He wanted to say something else, but decided not to, in case he alienated his classmate again. He was glad to be back on good terms with him, after all.
...
'So you think there might be a spy on your end.'
'Yeah. I mean, it's not like anyone can get into Grimmauld, and we didn't tell anyone besides Ron and Hermione.'
'You did put up some charms, right? If they find out we know they'll run.'
'Yeah, and I checked everywhere for eavesdropping devices. Nothing.'
Sirius shrugged, 'Well, then I'm as puzzled as you are.'
'I'll check again later, maybe they'll come back.'
'Yeah. You should probably sleep, it's getting late.'
Harry sighed, bade Sirius goodnight and stuffed the mirror under his pillow. It had been one hell of a day, but now it was finally over.
...
The goblin – Sword-something, if Sirius wasn't mistaken – didn't spare him more than a glance as he took the key and ordered another goblin to prepare a cart. This was why Sirius liked goblins. They never asked questions, no matter how suspicious one acted. He supposed it could prove to be a hindrance if a Death Eater got away using the same thing, but right now it was only working in his favour.
An exhilarating ride later (he honestly had no idea why most people felt ill after these, wasn't the adrenaline rush amazing?) Sirius was following the goblin down a dark, damp cave, at the end of which he knew was Bella's vault –
A roar echoed in the cave and fire lit up the walls, causing the goblin to halt Sirius with a wave of his hand as he started shaking a weird device that made clanging sounds and caused the huge beast to recoil.
– and that. Sirius had always felt a little bit sorry for the dragons guarding the vaults at Gringotts, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it. And he had to admit that such a guard was effective, if only because of the fear and stigma surrounding the creatures. Most people would cringe at the mention of coming into close proximity with a dragon.
But he was not one such person, and so he held his head high and didn't flinch as they passed the animal, which was cowering pitifully in the corner, having been trained to expect pain when it heard the clanging sound. They stopped before a tall black door with no lock and the goblin instructed Sirius to stand back as he caused it to melt away with a touch of his hand.
'What do you need?' the goblin asked with a grunt.
Sirius, who had been gazing at the room full of riches in growing dread at having to look through all that, snapped out of his reverie and answered, 'I...don't know actually.'
The goblin didn't even try to hide his irritation. 'And why did you feel the need to come here if you don't know?'
'I was told there was an object for me here,' Sirius lied quickly, 'but I wasn't told much else besides the fact that it's very dark. I was sort of hoping I could sense it?'
He sounded unsure and he knew it. Still, the goblin hadn't asked any questions thus far, he had no reason to start now.
The goblin sighed in irritation again and took something out of his pocket. At Sirius's questioning glance he grunted and said, 'Magic sensors. Every goblin has one.'
Without another word, he turned a dial on the side of the device and it flew out of his hands and started floating around the vault, beeping with increased frequency as it delved deeper into the room. Suddenly, it froze and glowed red as an object was summoned into a metal protrusion that somewhat resembled a hand. A moment later it was deposited into the goblin's waiting hands and Sirius finally got to see it.
It was a golden cup with a badger inscribed on it with what looked like emeralds. Sirius instantly understood what it was – Hufflepuff's cup. As the goblin handed it to him, he knew without a doubt that it was a Horcrux. Like the locket, the cup was practically oozing with Dark magic.
'Yes, this is it.' Almost as an afterthought, he added, 'Thank you.'
Later, Sirius did not wait for the Horcrux to start speaking before he plunged the fang into the badger on its side.
...
'Emmeline and Charlie, I will be assigning you to guard duty at a new location. You can decide who does day duty and who does night duty between each other.' Dumbledore waved his wand and a paper with an address written on it appeared before each occupant of the table. 'So you all know where to go in case something happens. Now –'
'What is the meaning of this, Dumbledore? We're stretched thin as it is, why is this new location so important?'
'Sirius, why don't you be quiet and listen for once?' said Molly, sending a dirty look his way. Sirius barely resisted baring his teeth at her. He had had to deal with being shut up and given the cold shoulder since the beginning of this Order meeting, and he knew it had to do with his excursion a few nights before. And yeah, going out without telling anyone might have been a bit irresponsible, but it wasn't like he'd asked any of them to come to his aid, though he did appreciate it.
At least, that was what he'd tried to tell himself when he was told that Hestia was still lying unconscious in Saint Mungo's while a prosthetic leg was being made in replacement for her real one.
'Molly, let us not,' said Dumbledore, though Sirius knew that he agreed with her, and it made anger rise up in his throat. He was an adult and fully capable of looking after himself, he didn't need their approval for everything he did! Why wouldn't they take him seriously?
'That house,' answered Dumbledore a moment later, inclining his head, 'is where Voldemort's mother was born and spent the majority of her life. Thus, it makes sense for Voldemort to come there.'
Sirius was about to ask what they'd do if they came face-to-face with Voldemort, but caught himself as he realised that that was it – they wouldn't do anything. Because this didn't have anything to do with Voldemort, at least himself in person. If they guarded every place Voldemort might go to, they'd have much more to guard than some shack in the woods near Little Hangleton. No, the place Dumbledore wanted them to keep an eye on had to be important somehow, significant enough that the old man would outright lie about it.
All Sirius could think of was that he wasn't the only one who knew of the Horcruxes.
He broke out of his thoughts, checking the defences on his mind quickly, just as his name was called and he realised he'd spaced out.
'What?' he asked irritably.
'Sirius, my boy.'
Sirius raised his eyebrows in a prompting gesture. Dumbledore sighed heavily, as if he was about to deliver some terrible news. Sirius had a feeling it wasn't very sincere.
'Quit the theatrics and get on with it,' he snapped, even as he felt dread fill a pit inside him. The anticipating, almost gleeful faces of his fellow Order members did nothing to ease the knots in his stomach.
'Sirius–' and didn't Dumbledore ever get tired of repeating names? '–you've been very helpful to us all with lending us your house for headquarters.'
'But?'
He knew what the leader of the Order of the Phoenix was going to say before he said it.
'But recent events simply cannot be ignored. Surely, you must understand that what you did was irresponsible.'
Sirius met Dumbledore's eyes with his own, and it took all of his being to stay still. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the expressions of the others. They weren't surprised at all. They had planned this out. Had gone behind his back to exclude him because of one thing he did.
Well, no matter. He'd show them. He'd show them all. He was going to defeat Voldemort and then everyone who'd ever doubted him, told him he wasn't this or wasn't that – told him he wasn't enough – would see. The Order was useless. Instead of working on actually destroying Voldemort once and for all, they wasted resources on guarding random places, as if they'd even be able to do anything against Voldemort himself, or even Bella. He was better off without them anyway.
As soon as Sirius had closed the door behind the last Order member for the last time, he turned around and kicked the nearest wall, the pain nothing but a slight itch next to the burning in his throat and eyes.
'I'll show you all,' he said, even as his whole being cried out in guilt.
...
The next day, the web of curses around the dilapidated shack that he had no way of dismantling safely proved to him without a shadow of doubt that this place contained a Horcrux.
And maybe, with enough research and observation, he'd take the defences apart and destroy it.
And then Dumbledore would see that he was more than just trouble.
...
Harry would be lying if he said he didn't feel at least a bit apprehensive entering the Great Hall with the Halloween Feast in full swing. So far, it had been the troll, the Chamber of Secrets, a mass murderer (as he'd thought at the time) breaking into Hogwarts and his name coming out of the Goblet of Fire. After four years straight of the same thing, it was no longer a question of if, but what.
Still, they had already served pudding and the worst that had happened was Fred and George instigating a food fight that had been quickly broken up by McGonagall.
As soon as that thought entered his head, Harry fought the urge to groan out loud just as he spotted an owl making its way to the Gryffindor table. Of course he had cursed it. As the owl got closer, he identified it as Sirius's and felt his insides go cold. With the mirrors, he and Sirius hadn't written each other a letter since he'd left the Dursleys.
Harry traded nervous looks with his best friends as he took the crumpled piece of parchment from the owl's beak.
'There isn't an envelope,' Hermione observed as Harry turned it over in his hands. The handwriting was hurried, messy, and the ink was smudged.
Harry,
Remus is dead, the werewolves killed him. Kreacher brought his body back.
It was not signed. It didn't need to be.
Harry felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. He met eyes with Hermione and tried to say something, but paper had crammed itself down his throat and lead had settled above his tongue, so he shook his head and quickly exited the Hall. As he ascended the staircase in the Entrance Hall, he broke into a run, not caring if anyone saw him or that shouting the password at the Fat Lady without greeting her was rude.
He burst into his dorm and leant against a bed post, trying to catch his breath, but it wouldn't come. Harry looked up and blinked rapidly, even as he felt water trail down his cheeks. He knew he was too old to cry, but it was Remus.
Remus, who'd given him chocolate on their first meeting because he'd known it would help. Remus, who'd taught him the Patronus Charm when he'd been a scrawny third year with no visible skill. Remus, who'd taken him seriously when no other adult besides Sirius would. Remus, who'd told him stories about his parents and helped him play jokes on Sirius in the last few days before he'd left.
Remus, who was now dead.
Harry allowed the tears to settle into his cheeks before he wiped them away resolutely. Whatever he was feeling, Sirius must be feeling a thousand times worse. And his godfather needed someone back home to make sure he didn't do something stupid.
(And though Harry wouldn't admit it, he needed someone with him as well.)
After hurriedly writing a note where he detailed what had happened and where he was going, Harry grabbed a tiny pouch of Floo powder that he'd taken with him just in case and practically flew down the stairs to the common room. He had to stop and pant there so that he could speak clearly. Right now was the worst time to end up miles from where he wanted to go.
An agonising spin later, Harry was clambering out of the fireplace in Grimmauld Place's living room and brushing soot off his robes. The house was nowhere near as tidy as he remembered it being; there was no dust, but papers lined the floors. He suspected Sirius had told Kreacher not to touch anything in case he misplaced something important.
Harry only had to stop for a moment to think about what he'd do if he was Sirius. He'd barely entered the kitchen before he spotted his godfather, sitting on the floor against the wall, a bottle in his hand and tear tracks on his face. For a moment he froze, he'd never seen him this vulnerable before. But Sirius didn't acknowledge him beyond a single glance his way, when usually he'd hide his face immediately, and so Harry walked up to him determinedly and waved his wand at him.
A spark of clarity passed over Sirius's face, smoothing out the wrinkles between his eyebrows and on the corners of his mouth, before it settled back into the pained expression that could only be caused by grief. Harry half expected him to start crying again, and he had no idea what he'd do then, but his godfather only looked up at him and asked resignedly, 'Sobering Charm?'
Harry nodded and added, almost as an afterthought, 'You were the one who taught me it.'
Sirius grunted and looked away, focusing his gaze on the opposite wall. For a moment his brows moved together and he squeezed his eyes shut, but it was gone as soon as it came, leaving him with the same pained look from before. The silence stretched on and Harry had to say something, or else he'd go insane, standing there and watching as his godfather sat there with resignation written on his face.
That was what got him the most — Sirius wasn't angry or sad, he was just resigned. Harry had seen his godfather livid and crying from laughing too much and he had seen shadows in his eyes when he'd thought no one was looking, but there had always been a spark of fight there, like he wasn't ready to back down just yet.
That spark was now gone.
'Are you okay?' Harry quickly backtracked, 'Of course you're not, I'm not either, but I just –'
'What's the point?' Sirius interrupted him, and dread took the breath out of Harry's lungs.
'What – what do you mean?'
Sirius waved his hand in the air and elaborated, 'This. The war.'
'The point?' Harry repeated slowly. 'We're fighting so that we can take down Voldemort and stop him killing everyone who's not a pureblood. Why are you asking me this?'
'I mean me. You know how when you ask someone why they personally are fighting and they say that they're fighting for a better future for their kids or for someone they love or some shit – I don't have anything left to fight for. It's all the same now. Meaningless.'
'What about me?' asked Harry, hurt. 'Don't you want to fight for me?'
'You have others to fight for you. You have the Weasleys and Hermione and Dumbledore and the whole wizarding world to lay their lives down for you when they realise how wrong they are. Everyone has a reason to keep going, whether it be their family or some moral high ground, or even just proving to their aunt who always told them how fucking disappointing they are that they're fucking worth something.'
With every word Sirius's voice shook more and his eyes became glazed as he ranted at the same wall he'd been staring at when Harry walked in.
'And what, pray tell, do you want me to fight for?' He once again waved his hand at his surroundings, 'This? This fucking house with it's walls that reek of fucking death and all the curses that my dear ancestors placed on every goddamn piece of furniture and these fucking memories that just won't leave, even though I know that they can't hurt me anymore, is this what you want me to fight for? I lie in bed awake every night and I fucking cry because I'm a worthless piece of shit and nothing will ever get better, and yet I'm supposed to just continue as if I'm okay because I have people who love me and if I don't do this other people, good people, will die? Remus was a good man, but now he's – he's –'
Sirius broke off and his harsh panting filled the stillness in the air. Tears clouded his eyes, but only a few fell. Despite his obvious vulnerability, he didn't take his gaze off of Harry, as though expecting him to know something he didn't.
Harry knelt down on the ground across from Sirius so that he was nearly eye-level with him. Later, he would go back to this night and digest it all, but his godfather thought his continued existence was pointless and if anyone had a chance of dissuading him of that notion anymore, it was Harry.
'You're wrong.'
Sirius turned away from him, shaking his head as if Harry's words were anathema to him, something unbelievable, fictitious, as unrealistic as everything the Blacks had ever told him.
'No, Sirius, I mean it. There's always something worth fighting for.'
Harry stopped for a moment, wondering how best to phrase what he was about to say.
'I know you've lost a lot, I have too. But that's it. That's why. I'm fighting because I lost my parents to this – this terrible thing, and if I don't, then their deaths will have been in vain. Remus is dead, too, and if you don't avenge him, then no one else will.'
Sirius was still shaking his head, his eyes shut and his face contorted in grief.
'If your love for them was what kept you going when they were alive, then let it be the thing that helps you fight for them once they are dead.'
Sirius let his head fall into his hand and teardrops fell on the kitchen floor. Harry scooted over to him and pulled him into a hug. It was awkward because they were sitting side by side and Sirius was taller, but Harry didn't care as he felt his shirt become wet with tears.
'But – I can't,' his godfather choked out, and a lump rose in Harry's throat.
'I know, but you don't have a choice. They're gone and –,' Harry's voice broke, '– and nothing will change that. But if you die, who will be left to remember them? That's why you stay. If you don't, no one else will.'
...
It was in the early hours of the morning when Harry finally got back to Hogwarts, after making sure Sirius wasn't in immediate danger of doing something stupid.
The next week's Saturday found them watching as Remus's coffin was lowered into the ground. It was a very simple ceremony, as Sirius hadn't been in a fit state to arrange anything more. Other than them, Remus's cousin whom Sirius had met with a few times while still at Hogwarts was the only one who came. Remus's parents had died a few years ago.
As Sirius talked about what an amazing person Remus had been, he gripped Harry's hand so tightly both their knuckles turned white.
...
'...and obviously I haven't stopped searching for information, but it's not fucking going anywhere!'
Sirius pulled his wand out of his bun, undoing it in the process, and sent a hex at a nearby shelf, causing it to fall over and send books to the floor. It had been a few weeks since Remus's funeral and Sirius had buried himself in his work to an extent most people would call unhealthy. Harry had Floo-ed to Grimmauld Place to check up on him a few times and according to him the place was in even greater disarray than before. Sirius himself had dark bags under his eyes, a side effect of sleeping only six hours instead of the recommended eight.
'Sirius, calm down. I'm sure something will come up eventually. Think, maybe you missed something. A man as egotistical as Voldemort would hide his Horcruxes in places that are meaningful to him, what does he like?'
'How the fuck do you expect me to know that?' Sirius asked, and his laugh had a hysterical tint to it. 'For all I know, he's into feet and necrophilia and makes his Death Eaters take off their shoes and pretend to be corpses while he goes around and –'
'Whoa, whoa, whoa, enough with the mental images, please.'
Sirius burst out laughing. This was ridiculous; they were supposed to be working to bring Voldemort to an end, yet here they were, laughing over his sexual preferences, of all things.
'Okay, that's funny and all, but let's focus. What's meaningful to Voldemort? Magic, definitely, since he hates Muggles so much, so find a place related to that?'
Sirius suddenly stopped laughing and said seriously, 'Harry, I love you.'
'I...love you too?' said Harry, clearly confused.
As it sunk in, Sirius felt excitement bubble up in his throat and a smile split his face.
'Sirius. Elaborate.'
'Okay, so we need a place that's all about magic, right?'
Harry nodded hesitantly.
'Hogwarts.'
'Of course,' Harry breathed. 'It makes sense, I don't know how I didn't see it.'
'That doesn't matter, point is, there's likely a Horcrux somewhere there. And since the previous ones belonged to Slytherin and Hufflepuff, this one could be something of Ravenclaw's – because, let's face it, there's no way Voldemort would make anything of Gryffindor's a Horcrux.'
'It could be something unrelated to the founders,' Harry pointed out. 'How many of them are left?'
'That doesn't matter,' said Sirius impatiently, 'If we're going off of the assumption that Voldemort hid one in Hogwarts and that one of his Horcruxes is something of Ravenclaw's, why would he hide another one in Hogwarts instead of that one?'
'I guess that makes sense.'
'Yeah. Ask around for me, would you? I don't know of anything other than Ravenclaw's diadem, but maybe someone there knows something about it. Say it's for an extra credit project in History.'
'Will do. What's Ravenclaw's diadem?'
..
'Harry!'
Harry turned around and came face to face with Cho, whose cheeks were tinged pink. Before he could get a word in, she said, 'I'm sorry about Michael and Marietta. They can be a bit much, but I promise they're nicer once you get to know them.' Becoming even redder, she added, 'Also I'm sorry for not standing up for you.'
'It's okay, Cho,' Harry reassured her. Cho smiled and Harry noticed that she seemed to be doing better. It then occurred to him that she was in Ravenclaw.
'Actually, do you know of any old artefacts that belonged to Ravenclaw? I need it for a project.'
'Well, there's her diadem – Luna might be able to tell you more about that.' Motioning for him to follow her, Cho led him over to the Ravenclaw table and stopped in front of a girl with straggly dirty blonde hair. She didn't give an indication that she'd seen them beyond putting her fork down.
'Harry, this is Luna Lovegood, Luna, this is Harry Potter and he wants to ask you something.'
'Yeah, nice to meet you. I'm doing a project and I need to know –'
'You're Harry Potter.'
Luna had turned around in her seat and was now gazing up at Harry with the most serene expression he'd ever seen.
'Er, yeah, Cho said so. Anyway, I need information on things that belonged to Ravenclaw. I know she had a diadem, but I don't know much about it. It's for a project.'
'I don't know of anything else either, but my daddy knows quite a bit about the diadem. He's trying to replicate it.'
'That's...cool, I suppose. Can you tell me anything about it?' For some reason, Luna unnerved Harry, though not necessarily in a bad way.
'It brings wisdom to the one who wears it. It was lost when Rowena Ravenclaw died and no one's seen it in living memory.'
Well, that wasn't exactly as helpful as he'd been hoping for. Luna smiled serenely again and turned back to her sausages. When it became clear that she wasn't going to say anything else, Harry bid her and Cho an awkward goodbye and joined Ron and Hermione back at the Gryffindor table. With a jolt, he realised that with everything that was going on in his life, he didn't fancy Cho anymore.
'What'd you go to the Ravenclaw table for?' asked Ron around a mouthful of bacon.
'Oh, just an extra-credit project.' Harry glanced at Hermione, she would know what he was talking about, but Hermione, who had been reading a letter from her parents, went pale and looked up at Harry and Ron.
'What is it, Hermione?'
'My parents saw someone dressed in black watching their house a few days ago.'
Harry and Ron exchanged looks.
'Death Eaters,' Ron said darkly, and for once even Harry wanted to hit him for his lack of tact.
'But what would they want my parents for?' asked Hermione, becoming, if possible, even more pale.
'Fuck knows. Probably 'cause you're my friend. I'll ask Sirius, I'm sure he can arrange some way to keep them safe.'
'Don't worry Hermione,' said Ron, touching her shoulder gently, 'they'll be all right.'
...
Later that day, Harry called Sirius and explained everything to him.
'Well, there's wards, but those can be broken through,' said Sirius, twirling a strand of his hair around his finger uncertainly, his forehead scrunched up in thought. 'I'd say move them to a safe house, only I don't have another property and we can't move them here obviously because there's Anti-Muggle curses that would turn them into smoke.'
'Ask the Order maybe? I'm sure they could arrange something.'
Sirius scowled.
'I'm not asking them for anything. They kicked me out, they can deal with that.'
'For fuck's sake, Sirius, this isn't about your pride!' Harry exclaimed. 'Hermione's parents could be dead already.'
Sirius gave a long-suffering sigh. 'Why are you always right?'
...
Sirius blocked Nott's curse and returned one of his own. Nott jumped out of the way and sent a Killing Curse that missed him by an inch. Sirius retaliated by sending an Exploding Charm at the wall of the Grangers' house, showering them both in dust and debris. One of the bigger pieces of the wall hit Sirius's opponent on the temple and he fell. One down, a million to go, thought Sirius as he ran behind the house and fished his mirror out of his pocket.
'Sirius, what –'
'Harry, listen, I don't have long. We got ambushed, there's a shit ton of Death Eaters here, I don't know if I'm going to make it out alive.'
'What, no! You can't –'
Above Sirius something issued a huge bang and the force of it caused him to drop the mirror. As he engaged in a duel with another Death Eater, he yelled as loud as he could, hoping Harry would hear him, 'Stay at Hogwarts, I love you!'
Then he turned his attention back to the battle and the mirror lay there, forgotten.