Sirius sat in a chair beside Harry's bed, holding onto the boy's hand and staring off into space. It had almost been twenty-four hours since he was brought back to Hogwarts, and Poppy hadn't recognized any signs of improvement. If anything, he seemed to be doing worse. He was continuously shouting for Sirius and thrashing around against the sheets constraining him.

During these extravagant movements, Sirius took Harry in his arms and attempted to soothe him with comforting words, but it didn't seem to do any good. Harry was completely stuck in a world of his own, and despite Dumbledore's insistence that Sirius's comfort would help him, things were looking bleak.

Harry had just come out of a bad fit an hour ago; he had been shouting things and squirming as if he were in pain. Sirius wished he knew what exactly his boy was envisioning, but no amount of magic could get his son out of the nightmare. He'd just have to wait it out and hope Harry's strength would persevere a little longer.

"How is he?" Remus's deep voice spoke quietly from Sirius's right side.

"No improvement - he seems to be getting worse, his cries are more ragged and desperate," Sirius mumbled, brushing the hair away from his son's face. "God, Rem, what if I lose him? He could have been safe if I had gotten to him before Lucius did-"

"That's not your fault, Padfoot," Remus insisted, kneeling down to be level with his friend, who had still not left the chair by his child's bedside. "Harry ran off - I know he was upset, Merlin knows he had every right to be, but he knew how dangerous things were getting. He shouldn't have left Dumbledore's office without someone."

Sirius just shook his head mutely and continued staring at the boy's pale, lifeless face. "I won't be able to take it if he dies, Moony."

"He won't, Sirius. Dumbledore is fairly confident that he'll come to, just keep doing what you're doing." Remus said reassuringly, settling down into another chair near the bed to keep his friend company.


"Ministry of Magic!" Harry shouted, before flying out of Remus's line of vision.

"Shit," Remus cursed, flying over to use the floo and shouting the same phrase Harry had just used. He felt himself spinning and flying past other fireplaces until he skidded to a stop in the atrium of the ministry. Just as he got his bearings, he saw Harry running towards the elevators.

"Harry!" Remus called, flying after him in an attempt to get him back to safety. Voldemort was here, in this building and he would be after the boy in a heartbeat.

Harry banged on the elevators, working himself into a state in his haste to avenge his father. He felt strong arms wrap around his waist and pull him away, but he wouldn't give up that easily; no, he wasn't leaving the ministry until Bellatrix was dead.

Kicking backwards hard, Harry caused Remus to stumble onto the ground; however, he overstepped and ended up falling down as well. Remus grabbed his ankle and pulled him closer. "Harry, this isn't a damn game! Voldemort is here-"

"Yes, Harry, perhaps you should listen to your elders more often," a shrill, cold voice said from behind them. Remus immediately jumped to his feet and brought Harry behind him, the way Sirius had done just an hour before.

The burning desire for revenge left Harry as he finally took in his surroundings - Voldemort was standing directly in front of Remus and himself. Harry realized, perhaps a few minutes too late, that he was very close to potentially losing both Sirius and Remus in one day. He knew that Remus also wanted to keep him safe, and would risk his life for Harry. If Voldemort sent another killing curse at Harry, Remus would jump in front of him without question, just as Sirius had only an hour before.


"Has he woken up at all?" Ron asked Sirius a little later that day. Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and the twins had all come to visit that afternoon once they heard what happened. Molly and some other Order members had also visited, but they were soon sent out by Madam Pomfrey. Sirius had to argue with her multiple times to allow him to continue his vigil by the boy's bedside, with her insisting that he needed rest just as badly as Harry did.

"Not once," Sirius mumbled, looking down at Harry's face, which was currently twisted into an expression of agony. "He went into a fit of some sort earlier this morning, shouting for me and going spastic. I almost couldn't hold him down."

Hermione was on the side of the bed opposite to everyone else and was holding Harry's hand. "Oh, Harry," she mumbled, tears in her eyes. "How come it's always him?"

Sirius's eyes darkened and he shook his head. "Hermione, you're the brightest witch I've ever met. Surely you know the answer to that."

Hermione nodded sadly, but didn't take her eyes off of her best friend. "He'll live, I know he will. He may think you're dead in his mind, but in his heart he has to know that you're here, waiting on him."

Sirius sighed and shook his head again. "I hope so…"

A few more minutes of quiet visitation passed before the kids were shooed out of the room and Remus was allowed back inside. He brought Sirius a plate of food and a shot of firewhiskey.

When Sirius noticed the alcohol, he looked up at his friend with a confused expression.

Remus smiled dryly, "You look like you need a pick-me-up."

Sirius nodded and shot back the amber liquid, slightly shivering at the burning sensation it caused in his throat. Once he recovered, he returned to facing his son.

Remus sighed and sat down beside him. "Sirius, you need to rest too… or at least get up and get some fresh air. I'll watch Harry and send a patronus if anything changes, but it's been over a day now. I don't think he'll move in the amount of time it takes for you to get a nap."

Sirius simply shook his head. They sat in silence for a few minutes longer, and just as Remus was beginning to worry for his friend's sanity, Sirius spoke. "What if he doesn't wake up?"

Remus cringed; Sirius's voice was raspy and held so much despair. "Of course he will, Padfoot," Remus tried to console. "Don't think about that possibility, Harry's too strong for this to be the end. Just focus on how happy he's going to be when he wakes up and realizes that you're alive."

Sirius nodded and returned to looking at his son. He gently stroked a hand through Harry's sweaty, black hair. To Remus's surprise and delight, he noticed Harry's facial expression relax at his father's soothing gesture. "See that, Padfoot? He knows you're here, comforting him. If Dumbledore believes that love will save Harry from this, then surely he'll wake up soon."

Sirius didn't respond right away, so Remus sat in silence with him for a few more moments, before he patted his friend's shoulder and left him to his own thoughts.

He was looking at his son's now relaxed face, and truly believing for the first time since this all started that there was a chance Harry would come out of this alright. With that thought, he decided to try something.

"Puppy," he whispered gently. Harry immediately turned his face so that he was facing his father, though he made no other indication that he had heard him. Still, this small movement gave Sirius hope. "I… I love you, Harry. I need you to wake up, I can't lose-"

Before he could finish his endearments, Harry shot his arms forward and let out a scream so desperate and painful, that Sirius's heart clenched. He immediately climbed up onto the hospital bed and wrapped his arms around his son's shaking body, holding him securely as the boy went into another fit.

After a few minutes, Sirius realized that this was perhaps the worst fit that his son had ever gone into; it was clear he was actually in a massive amount of pain. "Poppy!" Sirius shouted desperately, hoping that she had something that would help.


"Ah, mister Potter, the time has come." Voldemort drawled out. Harry attempted to look around Remus, but the man wouldn't let him.

"You'll have to kill me before I let you touch Harry." Remus said angrily, and Harry choked back a sob, remembering when his father had said those words only a few hours before.

"Oh I could," Voldemort said, an evil smile gracing his features. "But I find werewolves to be very useful." Voldemort cast a voiceless incantation that hit Remus before he realized what had happened. The man keeled over, but Harry was relieved to see that he was still breathing.

"Now, Harry," Voldemort said, edging closer to the boy. "It's time for you to face your destiny."

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "Dumbledore is here, he's downstairs. He'll stop you."

"Oh, I already took care of him," Voldemort said simply before casting another voiceless incantation. This time, instead of keeling over, Harry fell onto the ground in some of the most unbearable pain he had ever felt. Screaming in agony, all he could see was white light. Was this what dying felt like?


Dumbledore had arrived soon after Harry went into the fit, and Poppy was doing everything she could to get the boy to calm down; however, that was made harder due to Sirius's refusal to let go of his son.

"Mr. Black, you have to let him go!" Poppy exclaimed after Sirius's arms, which were wrapped around Harry, kept her from doing a diagnostic test.

Instead of heeding her command, Sirius turned to face Dumbledore. "What's wrong with him?"

"It's happening sooner than I feared," Dumbledore said, his face pale and eyes hollow. "He's being possessed, I suppose Voldemort feels he's weak enough… there's nothing we can do except hope that Harry survives the attack-"

"No!" Sirius said viciously before tightening his grip on the boy. "Harry, puppy, listen to me. You're going to be okay, please listen to my voice."

"Sirius, he can't hear-" Poppy began to argue, but Dumbledore cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Let's go to your office. I believe Sirius is the only one that can help Harry now, anyway." Dumbledore said simply, gently leading the matron away from the bed.

"Harry, I just need you to open your eyes. It's Sirius, I'm here and alive and I'll protect you, but I need you to wake up," Sirius said, his voice both soothing and desperate. The boy continued to struggle, unaware of what was happening in reality.


He registered a loud, piercing scream and belatedly realized it was his own voice. The pain was incomparable to any curse he had ever taken - it felt as if every part of him was on fire. His insides were twisting, complaining against the force overtaking his being. His head hurt and oh, his heart hurt.

As the pain continued on, Harry began to prepare for the worst. He was dying - he'd never see Ron or Hermione again. He would never get the chance to tell Ginny that he thought she was lovely, and Remus would be left all alone.

As the pain continued to attack his being, his thoughts moved to the afterlife. Was there one? Would that mean he would get to see Sirius again? And what about his mother and father? As badly as he missed them and wanted to be with them again, he had to admit he wasn't ready to die, not this way. Not without knowing if he would be with his family again.

It was minimal, but he felt the curse lighten up slightly. The pain backed off long enough for Harry to get a bit of relief and consider what he might have done to fight the curse. He had been thinking of his friends and family. Painfully, he reminded himself that if he lived, he would never see his beloved godfather again.

A new pain overtook him, but this time, it wasn't from the curse. It was heartbreak, and for whatever reason, it seemed to make the previous pain bearable. Faintly, another voice, separate from Voldemort's evil cackle, broke into his mind.

"Puppy, it's Sirius. I'm here, just wake up. I know you can, Harry. I'm right here, I'm alive. I need you, I can't lose you." The familiar voice spoke softly into his ear. Harry felt hope welling up inside him, but instead of embracing it, he tried to crush it. He knew what hope could do to someone, and he wouldn't risk believing the voice if it meant he would only wake to realize his dad was still dead.

"No, he's gone." Harry slurred, despite Voldemort's curse still attacking his body. "Dad is dead."

The voice broke into his head again, still soft and soothing, but also desperate. "No baby, I'm here. I promise, just wake up and you'll see. You can do it - you're so brave, so strong. You've beat him four times in your life, you can do it again. Wake up for me, puppy. I'm right here."

This time the hope overtook Harry's caution, and he felt the pain begin to ebb away as he fought the curse. Even if it was a trick of Voldemort's, it was worth the risk, he decided. He wanted his dad more than anything in the world, and seeing him again was worth it. The pain stopped immediately at that, and the white light reappeared, but this time the environment was different. It was quiet, and Harry felt himself wrapped in someone's embrace instead of on the cold, hard ground of the ministry.


"Wake up for me, puppy. I'm right here," Sirius said, noticing that Harry was beginning to still in his arms. Dread erupted in Sirius; was Harry relaxing in his hold because he was dying or was it because he heard his voice?

Slowly, the boy's green eyes opened and began to search his surroundings. His heart leaping into his chest, Sirius grabbed Harry's glasses and placed them gently onto the boy's face. "Harry, thank god."

Harry stiffened at the familiar voice, and craned his neck to see who had spoken.

"You… you're dead," Harry said, cringing away from Sirius with fear in his eyes. It all felt like a horrible dream to him, one in which Harry couldn't remember what was real and what wasn't.

"No puppy, I'm not," Sirius said gently, wanting to hug his boy but also knowing that Harry was very confused and probably wouldn't respond well to it. "You got hit at the ministry a few days ago by a spell that made you live a vision. What you've seen since hasn't been true at all. I'm alive and I'm not going anywhere."

Harry thought back to what happened at the ministry and shook his head. Of course he wanted to believe that the man sitting beside him was his father, but he didn't think he could handle the heartbreak if he wasn't; he barely made it through the first time. "It's not real," Harry mumbled to himself, looking away and blinking back tears. "He's dead, he can't come back."

Sirius felt his throat tighten and he slowly reached out to brush his son's bangs back; Harry flinched at the contact and Sirius took his hand away. "Tell me what I can do to prove I'm alive; I'll do anything."

Harry looked up into his father's - no, the impostor's pained grey eyes. He thought back from his time with Sirius, trying with difficulty to remember something that only his dad would know, something that would prove that this truly was Sirius and not a death eater in disguise. It hit him after a minute of pondering - there was only one other person in the world who knew about it, and she was dead, so Harry was sure this question would give him the answers he needed. "Sing to me; if it's really you, you'll know the song I want to hear."

Sirius smiled, relieved - he was beginning to worry that Harry was going to ask for some small detail that he would have no chance of remembering. Moving closer to his son, so he could stroke his bangs back again, he began: "When I am down, and oh, my soul so weary-"

Harry had tears in his eyes before the first line of the song was over, and he lunged at the man, wrapping his arms around his father's waist, finally accepting what he had believed to be false; his dad was alive.

Sirius held his son close and rocked him as he kept singing. "You raise me up, so I can walk on mountains. You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas. I am strong-"

A/N: I wish this is how Order of the Phoenix ended... anyway, read and review!