Harry Potter: The Path to Recovery

The Return

June 18th, 2006

Harry James Potter, the soon-to-be twenty-six-year-old, stood shocked at the man on the other side of his door. It was the last person that he'd ever expected to stand on his doorstep, especially considering the man had died exactly ten years previously: Sirius Orion Black.

"Sirius?" Harry asks.

It'd been nearing midnight when he'd gotten a tingle from the wards surrounding his cottage. Despite not having anything to do with the magical world after the disaster that was the war, and having to raise his godson, Teddy Lupin, on his own after the death of his grandmother and Sirius' favorite cousin, Andromeda Tonks, he still had the best wards in the business around his cottage by the sea. He lived (mostly) in the muggle world and hadn't had much contact with anyone in the magical world since he left with Teddy the day after Andromeda's funeral, which had been not three months after the war ended in May of '98.

"Yes, it's me," Sirius states. "I know you won't believe me, I'm not sure I believe me, but I think that I can prove it with Padfoot."

He changes into a very familiar large black dog, when he changes back, he says, "Ask me anything you like to prove it's me…" but Harry cuts him off, hugging him fiercely.

"I don't need to ask, no one else has that form, and only someone that I would want to see can even see this place. It's a special ward I found shortly after the war. You're the only person from my old life I'd even want to see here at my house, I just – I don't understand…how…?"

"It's a long story," Sirius replies, and Harry gestures from him to come in.

He leads him to a nice, comfortable living room that has window that looks at the sea. "I want to hear everything, no detail is too small, but Teddy's upstairs sleeping. He's got school tomorrow."

They both sit on the couch, beside each other turned to face each other with the window across from them. "When I fell through the veil, I was reunited with those I lost your parents, my brother…but I always knew it was temporary. The veil is doorway to death but falling through it or walking through it doesn't mean you die, not exactly. It's a mystery, the Veil, but I guess I answered some of those questions. All I know is that from the moment I fell through, there was a clock, and once it was time, I'd feel it…I'd walk back through the Veil, and I'd be alive, again."

"In the meantime, I could spend time with those I lost, and I watched over you. I'm so sorry for what my death did to you. I just – it was like when I escaped from Azkaban, all I could think about was protecting you, saving you. I couldn't let them go and rescue you without me. I – it didn't help that I …I was already depressed and suicidal for nearly a year, everyone was giving me all sorts of bollocks, I had no rights to you, my godson, I couldn't do anything for you – I couldn't even write to you and every time I tried to talk to you, someone interrupted because they thought I was corrupting you, and then, I was stuck in the house that…well…"

"Yeah, I know," Harry states. "I knew all that, Sirius, I didn't understand it at the time, but I've been seeing a therapist, and well, I realized how awful the Order treated you and me." He pauses, "But thank you for explaining. It hurt me that you died, I blamed myself, but I just…I'm okay now."

"Good, good. I just wanted to make sure you knew that." He pauses, "I spent the next ten years watching over you, and healing quite a bit from, well, everything." Sirius sighs, "I'm sorry about what happened with the Weasleys and the war…"

Harry sighs. After the war, there were a lot of funerals, including Fred's. When Harry tried to help George and Percy through their grief, using Sirius and walking to his own death to help, they had jumped on him. Told him that he didn't – and couldn't understand – that he'd never lost family. Never mind that he'd lost his parents at a year old, never mind that Sirius was his family (as were Remus, Tonks, and his godson, Teddy). Never mind that he considered Fred his family, too. They yelled about how he got everything. It was more Percy than George, but George in his grief had blamed Harry for coming back from the dead, for being able to survive multiple attempts on his life, for not ending the war, sooner, and other things.

It reminded Harry of Ron's insinuation when he left after the fight during the hunt. Ron had claimed that he wasn't worrying about what was going on with Ginny going into the Forest or any of his family. He'd yelled about how Harry's family was safe, while Ron's family was in danger (oddly reminiscent of Fred yelling at Sirius when Arthur got hurt by Nagini). All it did was remind him that he had no family. That despite the fact that they told him that he was like a son or a brother, he wasn't really. Not to them, anyway. It didn't matter that Harry thought of the Weasleys as his family because they weren't his family, not really, not in their eyes. That was the message he got from Ron, Percy and George, and he finally accepted it.

The argument had been on the heels of his argument with Ron about how he somehow owed Ginny for putting up with his breaking up with her (to protect her) by getting back together with her. Never mind that Harry had realized that he wasn't capable of being in a relationship until he dealt with his own issues from dying and nearly dying all year (according to his therapist, he had a lot more to deal with than he realized). Never mind that he shouldn't date someone because of an obligation. Never mind that he didn't owe Ginny anything. He broke up with her for valid reasons and he never promised that he'd come back because he was certain that he wouldn't be returning. It was a suicide mission and he knew it. (It wouldn't be until the following Christmas – already living on his own in the muggle world – that he questioned his interest in her at all, because with the loss of his scar, he never once thought about her the way he had thought of her all of the time during the hunt).

They weren't the only ones who felt that way. Many people blamed him for the extension of the war, forgetting that he was only seventeen, and Dumbledore had been planning the outcome of the war since he heard the prophecy. He had known about Peter, after all, he was a legimence. He frequently used it the same way Riddle did. He was a war general; he knew that lives of the many outweighed the lives of the few. So, he let what happened in 1981 happen, and arranged for Harry to be a Martyr. He planned for Harry to be his special weapon. He had suspected the Horcruxes for a long time, ever since Riddle had requested to be the DADA professor back in the sixties. Just like he suspected that Riddle was alive after that Halloween, but in both cases, he kept it to himself.

The result of that was that the Ministry didn't prepare for Riddle's return and no one (not even the Order) was able to do anything about stopping him because he chose to share the information with three teenagers rather than the adults. He'd chosen to tell Snape that Harry had to willingly walk to his death. The fact that his obscene plan actually worked was purely based on luck, but it worked, and afterward, Harry had to deal with a lot of scrutiny.

Everyone wanted him to talk at every funeral. He was expected to be the stoic hero, not allowed to show signs of grief or PTSD. He was expected to do interviews and support the ministry as they began the path to recovery. He'd been expected to support Kingsley's bid for Minister, which he did, until he learned that he couldn't or wasn't going to punish the death eaters and death eater sympathizers because he didn't have the support in the Wizengamot. The likes of the Malfoys, Parkinsons, Goyles, Crabbes, and other famous Death Eaters had gotten away, claiming coercion from the previous war. The likes of Mafalda Hopkirk and Delores Umbridge had gotten away with persecuting muggleborns, and the general populace had gotten away with doing nothing, just like the Professors, who'd done nothing at Hogwarts for its students.

"Yeah…it's okay, Teddy and I moved into the muggle world and I finally got to be normal, so, maybe it was meant to be."

"You should know that Fred was furious with his brothers. He kept yelling that it wasn't true that they didn't mean it, but obviously, you couldn't hear. They always said you were family, but …like I reminded him, they didn't always act like it. Where were they during the tournament? Where were they during your other years? They didn't write to you or help you, ever, well, once. When they rescued you during your second year, but they made your first year after the points thing, worse. They didn't help convince people you weren't the heir, in fact, making it worse. They…"

Harry sighs, "I know, and it pissed me off for a long time when I realized…especially when I thought about the way they treated you that …last year." He pauses. "Anyway, what happened when you came back?"

Sirius shrugs, "There was some alarm, I told the unspeakables what happened, Kingsley arrived, took me to St. Mungo's to be checked over. I knew that I was healthy – death or sort of death – does that. I tried to get through their stupid questions as quickly as possible because all I wanted was to get to you (and Teddy). You're the only people I care about in this world." He reaches over and grabs Harry's hand, squeezing it slightly.

Harry looks at their adjoined hands, and then at Sirius. Harry wanted nothing more than to finally be with Sirius. He'd been thinking about, dreaming about, and fantasizing about being with Sirius since he was fifteen.

The truth was when he first met Sirius, he needed a parent. In his fourth year, he needed an older guide, but in his fifth year, he just needed someone who understood him. Sometime between the end of his fourth year and Christmas, Sirius went from a parent figure to an older brother to an older friend. By the time he'd seen how attractive Sirius was in the memory, he'd gotten a very confusing crush on him.

He'd hoped to talk to Sirius about it before he died. Unfortunately, he died, and Harry did his best to ignore it, choosing to focus on his bizarre crush on Ginny. It wasn't until after he had moved to the muggle world that he started dreaming about the much more attractive version of Sirius he could see in his pictures from before that horrible Halloween, that he realized that he'd fallen in love with a dead man. He had lived for those dreams of Sirius. Which, at first, they were innocent. Just dreaming of talking to him, innocently touching him. Then he dreamed of kissing and snogging and before he knew it, he was dreaming of having sex with Sirius, licking, kissing, tasting, everything. He dreamed of tying Sirius to the bed and teasing him until he couldn't take it anymore and buggering him until they both came, cuddling up together, and passing out. Only to do it, again when they woke up. He dreamed about buggering him in the shower, leaving hickeys down his throat, and damn it, if he wasn't going to try it…just once.

Leaning forward, Harry kisses him. He tastes exactly how he dreamed, and not wanting it to end, he moves, still kissing him, his tongue sliding into his mouth as he moves into Sirius' lap. Sirius' arms quickly wrap around him as Harry's hands explore his chest, desperately wanting to unbutton them.

Eventually though, he needed to come up for air, they both did. Panting heavily, he leans his forehead against Sirius'. They are both hard, which is obvious in their jeans, and looking into each other's eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" Sirius asks, still panting.

"Yes, yes, this is what I've wanted for a long time," Harry admits.

"Good," Sirius responds, kissing him, again. "Upstairs?"

"Yes, yes, that's a good idea."