Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.
a/n Story dedicated to Moppet Poppet, Cheating Death's 500th reviewer!
Of Western Stars
By neutral
Chapter fifteen - of the past that always returns to haunt
Sirius had always taken Harry's frequent visits and ecstatic conversations for granted when he resided in his Padfoot form; it never occurred to him that the child spoke just because he was a dog and not a human. But now, with Harry speaking only a word or two at a time, Sirius felt that he somehow lost the boy again. Harry's past experiences with people obviously disillusioned him and made him silent at an early age. Sirius desperately wondered if Harry would ever be so carefree again.
Not to mention the wonders of wizard medicine, which Sirius hadn't truly appreciated before either. He never realized just how long it took for the body to heal naturally. To see the gaping wounds scream back at him everyday for four days straight on the young child's back was enough to remind him just how badly he was hurt, and just how slowly he would recover.
Damn those muggles…
Sirius mixed the drink bitterly, stirring it probably harder than necessary. The powdered protein fiber had long since dissolved in the warm milk, but he was too far gone in his thoughts to notice. But when he finally turned to face the bed, Harry still hadn't touched the steaming plate of breakfast. He leaned, propped against the pillows, staring at the opposite wall unseeingly. The scrambled egg and bacon were ignored on a tray before him The injuries had drained the remaining flesh from his already slight form like water; Harry was so pale and thin that the veins could be traced over his skin and the bruises stood livid on his body. Sirius choked back anger, his grip around the cup tightening convulsively.
"Harry," Sirius said softly so not to startle the boy.
Harry still flinched, head snapping up in surprise. Sirius held out the mug and the boy took it in a one handed grip. But the weight seemed to strain his hand; his entire arm shook with the effort of just holding it. Sirius caught the cup just before it slipped between his fingers, the warm fluid splashing a little over the brim.
Harry was wide-eyed, baffled and even fearful. He glanced his hand, flexing his fingers weakly. Sirius watched him uneasily; it must be so frustrating and confusion for a child to wake up and suddenly find that he didn't even have the strength to hold up a cup.
v "Sorry…" Harry's childish voice broke into the thick silence.
Sirius shook his head, trying to decide whether he should be exasperated or distressed with Harry for his extreme shyness. "It's alright; it's not your fault. Harry, you've been very ill. You'll be tired for a while."
Harry frowned slightly. "But…"
"But what?"
He looked up at Sirius inquiringly. "What…. Why am I…?"
"You are… very sick. You haven't been eating." Sirius brushed back a few strands of Harry's hair, inwardly grimacing. He knew why Harry had starved himself, and to know that he had somehow indirectly worsened his condition…
"You should eat if you want to get better," Sirius said quickly as a distraction, sitting down at the edge of the bed. "Try some of the egg first."
Harry visibly blanched as he examined the steaming dish in front of him. Despite Sirius encouragements, he made no move to eat at all.
"But… I can't," the child said meekly.
Sirius frowned, baffled. "Why not?"
"Uncle Vernon…" Harry visibly shuddered at those words. "says I'm not suppose to…"
Harry's next words were lost when Sirius stood from bed haltingly, looking torn between guilt and anger. He made an obvious effort at restraint, but his knuckles were white on the tightly clenched fist.
"I don't care what that muggle says. You're never going to see him again, you're never going to go back there again," Sirius said firmly, but couldn't hide the bitterness.
Sirius crushed those thoughts away when he noticed Harry watching him strangely again. The child's emerald eyes were unnerving sometimes, especially when he had thinned out, those eyes were large and stood out from the rest of his face.
"Sorry," Harry choked out.
Sirius blinked up, visibly surprised. The pained countenance was back again. "Why are you sorry?" he asked softly.
"You're unhappy," Harry whispered resignedly, shifting deeper in the thin blankets. He peeked over the edge of the sheet meekly. "Is it because of me? I… I didn't mean to make you sad."
Sirius drew a sharp breath, Harry's words completely catching him off guard. Harry's manner was completely of a shy little boy; he looked truly distressed at causing him trouble. Sirius was relieved at the acceptance, but concerned for his sudden reticent behavior. For a long time, Sirius was at a loss of what to say.
"Do you think so?" Sirius asked finally.
Harry nodded
Sirius sighed, pushing stray locks of hair from Harry's face. The boy didn't shield away at the touch, but he tensed fearfully. Still, it was better than a few days ago when he flinched violently at any contact. "Harry, I…" Sirius paused, biting his lip as if catching some words he was disinclined to say. "It's nothing that you did wrong, Harry. I'm not angry with you. I won't be angry with you."
Harry looked puzzled.
Sirius' head snapped up, his arm knocking over a stray styrofoam cup that roamed too close to his elbow. His neck strained with a sharp crack, and he groaned at the uncomfortable position of his back. He had been sleeping in the various hotel chairs ever since a week ago, despite the spare bed in the room, and his spine was taking its toll.
I'm getting old, Sirius noted somewhat with disdain.
The brief thoughts vanished quickly as Sirius scanned the darkened room, wondering what awakened him. Over the course of the week, he had groan especially susceptible to any noise, alert at a moment's notice.
A soft whimper.
That caught Sirius attention immediately.
A strangled gasp.
Quickly, Sirius stood, concerned. Harry was always quiet, no matter how much those injuries tortured him. He must be in serious pain if he was crying out in his sleep. Kicking aside a few articles that he couldn't see, Sirius blindly made his way towards the child's bed.
A different sight met his eyes altogether when he switched on the light. Harry was twisted on his side, curled against the bed and tangled helplessly in the bed sheets. His hair was plastered to his forehead with perspiration, and he shivered visibly. His face was knitted in a deep frown, and once in a while, he would flinch and whimper as if trapped in a nightmare.
Alarmed, Sirius hurried towards the child, and carefully turned him from his side to relieve his bruised ribs. But a violent spasm raked through the thin form and the child cried out. Sirius drew away cautiously.
"Harry!" Sirius tapped the child gently on the forehead. Harry's skin was cold and clammy, and he dabbed at the child's face with the edge of his sleeve. "Wake up, it's just a dream."
Without warning, the child's eyes snapped open, larger than he believed humanly possible, glazed and unfocused like the glassy eyes of his ancient divination teacher. Sirius could feel the boy stiffen, and Harry seemed to stare at him, right through him.
The remaining color drained from his face and left him ghastly white. He made a sharp jerk in an attempt to move away, but all he managed was a sharp gasp of pain.
"Harry, don't move!" Sirius said sharply.
Those words sent a jolt down the child's spine, as if they incurred a terrifying memory. He clutched the far edge of the bed with the undamaged arm, trying to drag his weakened body as far from him as possible. He whimpered when Sirius took a step forward.
Unnerved by the response, Sirius reached out to clasp the child's arm. But Harry recoiled so violently that he snapped back. The edge of the colt caught the child completely by surprise. With a strangled cry, Harry tumbled to the floor. His shoulder scrapped against the edge of the bedside table with a dull bang, and he fell against the carpet in a tangled heap.
"Harry!"
Alarmed, Sirius scrambled over the bed to get to his godson. But his frantic tone only frightened the boy even more. Harry coughed, dragging himself to against the bed and curling tightly defensively around himself. The pain from the fall and the panicked movement was obviously causing him unbearable agony. Harry was biting his fingers to muffle the cries.
"Harry, no. Don't try to move, you're going to hurt yourself more," Sirius whispered almost imploringly. He knelt beside him, but every time he moved forward, Harry would flinch. Afraid to touch him and reluctant to leave him, he watched Harry agitatedly. In his drug induced delirium, Sirius wondered if it was really him that he saw.
"Sorry! Sorry!" Harry choked out between gasps. He shielded his face with his hands, pressing his back against the wall despite the fire lashing out. "I won't… do it again!"
"What…? Do what? Harry, it's alright, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm not angry," Sirius said as reassuringly as possible, but his tone betrayed his distress.
"I didn't… steal Dudley's food," Harry continued. He spoke so softly that Sirius could barely hear, "I didn't! He said… he didn't want it… I… sorry… sorry… Sorry!"
Sirius drew a sharp breath, catching onto the edge of the bed and twisting the fabric between his fingers. Harry was in trouble because of stealing his cousin's food? Sirius choked when he remembered the oversized sandwich Harry had pocketed for him. Harry had taken it for him. This was all his fault. Harry was in trouble because of him. Sirius swallowed thickly, feeling as if someone had just twisted his stomach with razor sharp nails.
Harry's eyes were wide in terror, glazed with a strange gloom that a six year old should never have had or seen. He stared at him as if seeing somebody different altogether, mentally reliving all the horrors of his short life in one desperate moment.
But Harry just shuddered, whether from pain or fear, he wasn't sure. He huddled in a small corner, act reminiscent of the small child fearful of being torn to pieces by a wild dog. But the position was straining his already tender ribs, tearing at the delicate skin on his back. The poorly clotted wounds had ripped at the brush against the table, noticeable stains seeped through Harry's tattered shirt. Sirius tensed at the sight, lightly pulling the slight form from the floor.
Sirius reached out, a hand hovering above the child's shoulder. But the moment he touched the thin shoulder, Harry startled and struggled.
"No! Please…" Harry choked out. He buried his face in his arms as if as if blocking out a sight only he could see. He writhed helplessly, face contorted in agony at the ribs that he jolted, his body was twisted in a painful position in his attempt to move away.
"Harry, I'm not going to hurt you!" Sirius whispered. He pried the child's hands free with ease, the fear of further frightening the boy was quickly replaced by concern. He stopped him as he attempted to move away, easing the slight weight against him to keep the ribs from being jarred even further.
But Harry all but screamed, entire body jerking as if someone had stabbed him. Sirius startled at the response, but held him still before he hurt himself further. He whispered quiet words of comfort and reassurance, but they seemed to past right through him. Abruptly, Harry fell limp, legs buckling beneath him as he collapsed.
Sirius caught him before he fell completely. But when the child's head lolled back against the crook of his arm, eyes cracked in small slits as he drifted between the edges of consciousness, Sirius found his throat too constricted to sigh in relief.
*
This chapter feels off somehow, like it's... I donnuo. I think I'm overdoing it... it's kinda like CD where the character development gets stretched waay too long. Humm... maybe I shouldn't have written it in pieces. Urg.
Ack! For all those who want regular updates... umm... I'll try! But I only know how to make address books on the old computer, the new one for some reason doesn't save it. I need to go on the old computer to email, and occassionally, I might not be able to contact everyone. I will try though! I hope you don't mind, however sporadic they may be...
Hummm... I don't know, Gaby. I hadn't intended to post the next chapter of PoM so quickly since I hit sort of a block after chapter 6. I guess I can post chapter 6, but I want to sit on that as a sort of incibator for chapter 7... well... lets say, when WS gets 600 reviews? It's pretty close and I feel rather bad about leaving the cliffie. PoM will continue when WS ends... I'm guessing... 2 months when PoM will continue? PoM's beginning to lag, rather early too. I'm getting worried whether it'll be finished or not...
Hey MercS! Say hi to Tilly and Nick for me!
I just flunked 2 tests!! I may not be able to post for WS until May 14, when all of these APs ( eek... good luck, Peacockgirl! I'm taking Euro and Chem this year... they don't let us take US History until we're Juniors. I hope you do well!) go away. Or if things go smoothly, I may sneak some time to post on May 8th. I'm so sorry!
a/n Story dedicated to Moppet Poppet, Cheating Death's 500th reviewer!
Of Western Stars
By neutral
Chapter fifteen - of the past that always returns to haunt
Sirius had always taken Harry's frequent visits and ecstatic conversations for granted when he resided in his Padfoot form; it never occurred to him that the child spoke just because he was a dog and not a human. But now, with Harry speaking only a word or two at a time, Sirius felt that he somehow lost the boy again. Harry's past experiences with people obviously disillusioned him and made him silent at an early age. Sirius desperately wondered if Harry would ever be so carefree again.
Not to mention the wonders of wizard medicine, which Sirius hadn't truly appreciated before either. He never realized just how long it took for the body to heal naturally. To see the gaping wounds scream back at him everyday for four days straight on the young child's back was enough to remind him just how badly he was hurt, and just how slowly he would recover.
Damn those muggles…
Sirius mixed the drink bitterly, stirring it probably harder than necessary. The powdered protein fiber had long since dissolved in the warm milk, but he was too far gone in his thoughts to notice. But when he finally turned to face the bed, Harry still hadn't touched the steaming plate of breakfast. He leaned, propped against the pillows, staring at the opposite wall unseeingly. The scrambled egg and bacon were ignored on a tray before him The injuries had drained the remaining flesh from his already slight form like water; Harry was so pale and thin that the veins could be traced over his skin and the bruises stood livid on his body. Sirius choked back anger, his grip around the cup tightening convulsively.
"Harry," Sirius said softly so not to startle the boy.
Harry still flinched, head snapping up in surprise. Sirius held out the mug and the boy took it in a one handed grip. But the weight seemed to strain his hand; his entire arm shook with the effort of just holding it. Sirius caught the cup just before it slipped between his fingers, the warm fluid splashing a little over the brim.
Harry was wide-eyed, baffled and even fearful. He glanced his hand, flexing his fingers weakly. Sirius watched him uneasily; it must be so frustrating and confusion for a child to wake up and suddenly find that he didn't even have the strength to hold up a cup.
v "Sorry…" Harry's childish voice broke into the thick silence.
Sirius shook his head, trying to decide whether he should be exasperated or distressed with Harry for his extreme shyness. "It's alright; it's not your fault. Harry, you've been very ill. You'll be tired for a while."
Harry frowned slightly. "But…"
"But what?"
He looked up at Sirius inquiringly. "What…. Why am I…?"
"You are… very sick. You haven't been eating." Sirius brushed back a few strands of Harry's hair, inwardly grimacing. He knew why Harry had starved himself, and to know that he had somehow indirectly worsened his condition…
"You should eat if you want to get better," Sirius said quickly as a distraction, sitting down at the edge of the bed. "Try some of the egg first."
Harry visibly blanched as he examined the steaming dish in front of him. Despite Sirius encouragements, he made no move to eat at all.
"But… I can't," the child said meekly.
Sirius frowned, baffled. "Why not?"
"Uncle Vernon…" Harry visibly shuddered at those words. "says I'm not suppose to…"
Harry's next words were lost when Sirius stood from bed haltingly, looking torn between guilt and anger. He made an obvious effort at restraint, but his knuckles were white on the tightly clenched fist.
"I don't care what that muggle says. You're never going to see him again, you're never going to go back there again," Sirius said firmly, but couldn't hide the bitterness.
Sirius crushed those thoughts away when he noticed Harry watching him strangely again. The child's emerald eyes were unnerving sometimes, especially when he had thinned out, those eyes were large and stood out from the rest of his face.
"Sorry," Harry choked out.
Sirius blinked up, visibly surprised. The pained countenance was back again. "Why are you sorry?" he asked softly.
"You're unhappy," Harry whispered resignedly, shifting deeper in the thin blankets. He peeked over the edge of the sheet meekly. "Is it because of me? I… I didn't mean to make you sad."
Sirius drew a sharp breath, Harry's words completely catching him off guard. Harry's manner was completely of a shy little boy; he looked truly distressed at causing him trouble. Sirius was relieved at the acceptance, but concerned for his sudden reticent behavior. For a long time, Sirius was at a loss of what to say.
"Do you think so?" Sirius asked finally.
Harry nodded
Sirius sighed, pushing stray locks of hair from Harry's face. The boy didn't shield away at the touch, but he tensed fearfully. Still, it was better than a few days ago when he flinched violently at any contact. "Harry, I…" Sirius paused, biting his lip as if catching some words he was disinclined to say. "It's nothing that you did wrong, Harry. I'm not angry with you. I won't be angry with you."
Harry looked puzzled.
Sirius' head snapped up, his arm knocking over a stray styrofoam cup that roamed too close to his elbow. His neck strained with a sharp crack, and he groaned at the uncomfortable position of his back. He had been sleeping in the various hotel chairs ever since a week ago, despite the spare bed in the room, and his spine was taking its toll.
I'm getting old, Sirius noted somewhat with disdain.
The brief thoughts vanished quickly as Sirius scanned the darkened room, wondering what awakened him. Over the course of the week, he had groan especially susceptible to any noise, alert at a moment's notice.
A soft whimper.
That caught Sirius attention immediately.
A strangled gasp.
Quickly, Sirius stood, concerned. Harry was always quiet, no matter how much those injuries tortured him. He must be in serious pain if he was crying out in his sleep. Kicking aside a few articles that he couldn't see, Sirius blindly made his way towards the child's bed.
A different sight met his eyes altogether when he switched on the light. Harry was twisted on his side, curled against the bed and tangled helplessly in the bed sheets. His hair was plastered to his forehead with perspiration, and he shivered visibly. His face was knitted in a deep frown, and once in a while, he would flinch and whimper as if trapped in a nightmare.
Alarmed, Sirius hurried towards the child, and carefully turned him from his side to relieve his bruised ribs. But a violent spasm raked through the thin form and the child cried out. Sirius drew away cautiously.
"Harry!" Sirius tapped the child gently on the forehead. Harry's skin was cold and clammy, and he dabbed at the child's face with the edge of his sleeve. "Wake up, it's just a dream."
Without warning, the child's eyes snapped open, larger than he believed humanly possible, glazed and unfocused like the glassy eyes of his ancient divination teacher. Sirius could feel the boy stiffen, and Harry seemed to stare at him, right through him.
The remaining color drained from his face and left him ghastly white. He made a sharp jerk in an attempt to move away, but all he managed was a sharp gasp of pain.
"Harry, don't move!" Sirius said sharply.
Those words sent a jolt down the child's spine, as if they incurred a terrifying memory. He clutched the far edge of the bed with the undamaged arm, trying to drag his weakened body as far from him as possible. He whimpered when Sirius took a step forward.
Unnerved by the response, Sirius reached out to clasp the child's arm. But Harry recoiled so violently that he snapped back. The edge of the colt caught the child completely by surprise. With a strangled cry, Harry tumbled to the floor. His shoulder scrapped against the edge of the bedside table with a dull bang, and he fell against the carpet in a tangled heap.
"Harry!"
Alarmed, Sirius scrambled over the bed to get to his godson. But his frantic tone only frightened the boy even more. Harry coughed, dragging himself to against the bed and curling tightly defensively around himself. The pain from the fall and the panicked movement was obviously causing him unbearable agony. Harry was biting his fingers to muffle the cries.
"Harry, no. Don't try to move, you're going to hurt yourself more," Sirius whispered almost imploringly. He knelt beside him, but every time he moved forward, Harry would flinch. Afraid to touch him and reluctant to leave him, he watched Harry agitatedly. In his drug induced delirium, Sirius wondered if it was really him that he saw.
"Sorry! Sorry!" Harry choked out between gasps. He shielded his face with his hands, pressing his back against the wall despite the fire lashing out. "I won't… do it again!"
"What…? Do what? Harry, it's alright, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm not angry," Sirius said as reassuringly as possible, but his tone betrayed his distress.
"I didn't… steal Dudley's food," Harry continued. He spoke so softly that Sirius could barely hear, "I didn't! He said… he didn't want it… I… sorry… sorry… Sorry!"
Sirius drew a sharp breath, catching onto the edge of the bed and twisting the fabric between his fingers. Harry was in trouble because of stealing his cousin's food? Sirius choked when he remembered the oversized sandwich Harry had pocketed for him. Harry had taken it for him. This was all his fault. Harry was in trouble because of him. Sirius swallowed thickly, feeling as if someone had just twisted his stomach with razor sharp nails.
Harry's eyes were wide in terror, glazed with a strange gloom that a six year old should never have had or seen. He stared at him as if seeing somebody different altogether, mentally reliving all the horrors of his short life in one desperate moment.
But Harry just shuddered, whether from pain or fear, he wasn't sure. He huddled in a small corner, act reminiscent of the small child fearful of being torn to pieces by a wild dog. But the position was straining his already tender ribs, tearing at the delicate skin on his back. The poorly clotted wounds had ripped at the brush against the table, noticeable stains seeped through Harry's tattered shirt. Sirius tensed at the sight, lightly pulling the slight form from the floor.
Sirius reached out, a hand hovering above the child's shoulder. But the moment he touched the thin shoulder, Harry startled and struggled.
"No! Please…" Harry choked out. He buried his face in his arms as if as if blocking out a sight only he could see. He writhed helplessly, face contorted in agony at the ribs that he jolted, his body was twisted in a painful position in his attempt to move away.
"Harry, I'm not going to hurt you!" Sirius whispered. He pried the child's hands free with ease, the fear of further frightening the boy was quickly replaced by concern. He stopped him as he attempted to move away, easing the slight weight against him to keep the ribs from being jarred even further.
But Harry all but screamed, entire body jerking as if someone had stabbed him. Sirius startled at the response, but held him still before he hurt himself further. He whispered quiet words of comfort and reassurance, but they seemed to past right through him. Abruptly, Harry fell limp, legs buckling beneath him as he collapsed.
Sirius caught him before he fell completely. But when the child's head lolled back against the crook of his arm, eyes cracked in small slits as he drifted between the edges of consciousness, Sirius found his throat too constricted to sigh in relief.
*
This chapter feels off somehow, like it's... I donnuo. I think I'm overdoing it... it's kinda like CD where the character development gets stretched waay too long. Humm... maybe I shouldn't have written it in pieces. Urg.
Ack! For all those who want regular updates... umm... I'll try! But I only know how to make address books on the old computer, the new one for some reason doesn't save it. I need to go on the old computer to email, and occassionally, I might not be able to contact everyone. I will try though! I hope you don't mind, however sporadic they may be...
Hummm... I don't know, Gaby. I hadn't intended to post the next chapter of PoM so quickly since I hit sort of a block after chapter 6. I guess I can post chapter 6, but I want to sit on that as a sort of incibator for chapter 7... well... lets say, when WS gets 600 reviews? It's pretty close and I feel rather bad about leaving the cliffie. PoM will continue when WS ends... I'm guessing... 2 months when PoM will continue? PoM's beginning to lag, rather early too. I'm getting worried whether it'll be finished or not...
Hey MercS! Say hi to Tilly and Nick for me!
I just flunked 2 tests!! I may not be able to post for WS until May 14, when all of these APs ( eek... good luck, Peacockgirl! I'm taking Euro and Chem this year... they don't let us take US History until we're Juniors. I hope you do well!) go away. Or if things go smoothly, I may sneak some time to post on May 8th. I'm so sorry!