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 twenty - of opening doors
The moment the lady's footsteps faded into a distance, Remus forcibly tore himself from the numb haze. He stood, dropping his luggage haphazardly on the bed, and concentrated on keeping his hands steady.
The recent information puzzled him to no end. If the lady had blatantly stated that Sirius was treating Harry horribly, he would have searched every single room until he found them. But to hear that Sirius was actually helping the child, he wasn't sure what to do. A part of him still wanted to storm through every door, but the other was afraid. Afraid that he would find Harry alive and possibly even loved, he would lose some of the reason to hate the traitor. Remus had built the hatred against the murderer for five years already, and to have it suddenly torn away was disconcerting. Remus wondered if he'd ever get to the bottom of this without remembering Sirius with mixed feelings.
But he couldn't leave Harry with that traitor. Who knew what sort of lies Sirius could be planting into the child's head?
Systematically, he unpacked his nearly weightless belongings, demeanor much calmer than he felt.
The portkey he placed in his pocket, his wand he placed in the other. He drew a bottle full of colorless, tasteless sleeping potions that would probably stun Sirius until he was taken to Hogwarts, expression slipping into one of bitterness as he examined it in his hands. He could probably slip it in their food tonight before Martha took it to them.
An unfamiliar crinkled package stared at him from the depths of his small cloth bag. It was bulky but flimsy at the same time. The uneven surface caved in when he placed his hand against it. He never packed it, that much was certain. Arabella must have slipped it into his luggage before he left. Curious, Remus peeled back the paper wrapping, and stepped back in surprise.
James' invisibility cloak…
The silvery mesh stared back at him innocently, shimmering faintly in the dimly lit hotel room. With trembling hands, he lifted the feather light cloak, feeling the liquid cloth run between his fingers like mercury. It caught the rays of the sun that just peeked through his window, sending seams of rainbow glows that reflected across the walls.
Remus smiled wistfully despite himself, recalling all those adventures he had in his teenage years under the same cloak. They were so foolish and careless then…
Slowly, gently, as if fearful that the silky cloth would dissipate under his touch, Remus slipped it over his shoulders.
It as ironic, using James' cloak to track down his son. And possibly throwing Sirius back in Azkaban with the dementor's kiss.
Remus scowled inwardly at the thought. A small note slipped out between the folds. Remus picked it up with a steady hand.
Remus
James cloak, use it well. Try to locate them but do not act.
Send us your location. We will be there by that night.
Be careful.
Dumbledore
Dumbledore really thought things through, Remus decided. Invisibility charms were too complicated to cast and difficult to maintain. Just one slip would give him away. With the cloak, he no longer needed to wait. Remus wondered what the headmaster was thinking, doing one thing and telling him another. Sending the cloak was an obvious request for him to act, knowing that once his former pupil received it, no amount of logic would make him stay.
Slipping on the cloak, Remus moved from the sanctuary of the room. Mentally, he was already bracing himself for an intensive search. He half expected Sirius to cover them both with obscurity, even in a near deserted hotel with just twenty rooms. He half expected Sirius to use whatever dark arts he learned to make their presence next to invisible, and he would have to dig through the front desk's records just to find them. But as he paced the distance between his room to the receptionist desk, a black bag caught his eye. A trash bag most likely, stuffed full of stained bandages and plastic utensils. It hung on the door knob of an inconspicuous door, a deliberate giveaway.
Either Sirius never expected to be found, or whatever occurrences were making him careless. Remus entertained the thought of Sirius purposely misleading people who would come in search.
He broke the lock with a whispered unlocking charm and slowly creaked the door open only hesitantly. Even from the crack, he could see jackets lying haphazardly on the floor and various utensils that scattered over the desks. Old habits were hard to break, and Sirius was never someone known for his cleanliness. Plastic bottles lined the dresser, and even from a distance, Remus could tell they were muggle medicine. He wasn't sure what to think of it. He strained his ears to pick up any sound, but there was none.
Cautiously, he opened the door.
The room was empty.
Sirius had to blink several times to rid the graininess in his eyes, and even then he was only partially conscious. With the extent his thoughts tend to stray, he wondered just how much the lack of sleep was getting to him. His jaw was numb from where it was pressed against the unforgiving wood of the headboard, and his back was twisted between his chair and the bed. But he barely felt those, gently rocking the sleeping child back and forth.
Sirius pushed a few stray locks of hair to hide the jagged curse scar, and lightly traced a fading bruise over the child's cheek. He apologized… to him. The child was sorry about the trouble he caused, sorry that he even was hurt to begin with, sorry that he always made him upset. Sirius wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
Carefully, he extracted himself from the tangled blankets, gently lifting the child from the bed. The room was suffocating; he just realized neither of them had breathed fresh air in a week. Sliding open the bay windows to the balcony, Sirius stepped outside. There was no chairs on the slab on concrete; Sirius settled on leaning against the closed door with the child's small form resting against his shoulder. Drawing a deep breath, he stared at the dimming sky.
Disturbed by the cool breeze, Harry stirred in his cocoon of blankets. Sirius shifted his weight, easing him into a more comfortable position.
Harry squinted at him, looking even younger than the already undernourished boy without his glasses. Noticing his hand latched onto his godfather's sleeve, he dropped it as if burned and pulled away awkwardly.
"Sorry," he whispered quickly.
Sirius cringed.
"Harry, don't be sorry," Sirius murmured, making an obvious effort at suppression. "I should be the one apologizing." He trailed off, unable to continue.
Harry stilled, emerald eyes almost piercing in its intensity as he watched him.
Sirius drew a shuddering breath, running his hand over his face harshly. "It's James and Lily, your parents," he whispered hoarsely. "I… things happened, and I…"
"Do I… remind you of them? Is that why you're always unhappy?" Harry asked timidly, sinking in the cocoon of blankets as if trying to hide.
Sirius didn't stop to question how someone his age would understand something so complicated. He was already shaking his head, furious and horrified at the idea that the child could even think that. "No!" he said firmly, louder than he intended. "I made a mistake that hurt them a lot… and it… it hurt you too. It's too complicated to explain, and I promise I will tell you everything when you're old enough. But… not now. I'm sorry."
Harry was silent, but his gaze never drifted from his godfather's face. Sirius wondered for a moment, with the strange sort of glint in his eyes he only saw in Dumbledore, if Harry already knew and understood.
"You didn't mean to hurt them," Harry finally whispered with a quiet determination that made him seem far older than just six years of age.
"No, I didn't. I swear, I would never hurt James and Lily," Sirius choked out, too lost in his memories to register that Harry's words was a statement rather than a question.
Harry didn't answer at first. Tentatively, the child lifted his hand as if trying to touch his face. Sirius lowered his head, confused as to what he was trying to do, and once his arm could reach, placed his hand on his head. Sirius stilled, thoroughly perplexed by the odd gesture.
"You… you're…" Harry's eyes glazed, blinking up at him as if recalling a distant memory
"What is it?" Sirius asked, immediately concerned.
Harry gave his hair an odd pat that was frighteningly reminiscent of Padfoot's morning head rub; Sirius could feel the color draining from his face.
Harry's eyes flickered.
"You're Padfoot," Harry whispered, sounding a bit bewildered.
Sirius nearly dropped the child in surprise. He staggered, openly gaping. The confusion and shock in his mind completely stole his ability to speak for a moment.
How was it possible that Harry knew? He was delirious when Sirius first told him over six days ago, and he was asleep the two times he transformed. How could Harry know?
"How did you know?" Sirius choked out.
"A dream," Harry whispered timidly.
Sirius was speechless for another minute. Harry dreamt of these things? Could it be possible? But the art of divination passed through bloodlines and both Lily and James practically failed the class. And for someone so young to have such accurate dreams were rare.
Sirius swallowed, bewildered. He couldn't decide how Harry could have known. Perhaps the child had hidden talents that accelerated his abilities far above the norm? Or perhaps the years of abuse had twisted his abilities into another form?
Harry frowned slightly in puzzlement. "But… how?" he finally asked.
That was what I want to know too, Sirius thought numbly.
"It's magic," Sirius said slowly.
"Magic?" Harry echoed. He sounded oddly hopeful, but a cloud passed over his features. "But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said…" Harry trailed off.
Sirius scowled bitterly at just the mention of his relatives. He remembered Lily's older sister's absolute aversion to anything out of the ordinary. But Harry was easily startled already, and Sirius had to be very careful about reacting violently. He drew a deep, calming breath. "Don't worry about what they say. They're just the type of muggles that hate us or anything that has to do with us."
"Muggle?" Harry echoed again, looking as if he had just tasted his first chocolate.
"Non-magic people, it's…. sort of complicated to explain everything," Sirius sighed in frustration. "I'm not good at explaining these things"
But when Harry tilted his head to one side inquiringly, Sirius found himself launched into long description about wizards and their abilities. He talked about anything and everything he could think of: animagus transformations, Hogwarts, quidditch to the child resting quietly against him.
"Then Remus must be a wizard too," Harry whispered. "He can change into a silver wolf."
Sirius almost choked at the extent his throat pinched. Harry knew about Remus' lycanthrope? Sirius was pretty sure his friend would never tell Harry about that. They never spoke of Remus' condition, and it would be impossible even if he did retain his memories from infancy. And no type of magic could tell such things, especially as inexperienced as Harry was. Unless Harry was really…
Impossible.
"He is," Sirius admitted haltingly.
Harry knitted his brow as he gathered his thoughts, "Mum and Dad…"
"Were wizards," Sirius said softly.
Harry's eyes glowed with excitement, and he leaned forward eagerly.
Sirius smiled, brushing his fingers through Harry's thick and unruly hair. "They were some of the best in their time. They met in a wizard school, you know? I went there with Remus, your father, and your mother used to hate us because we would make fun of her all the time. She charmed our clothes to stick to the ceiling of the common room after James turned her hair into quills…" Sirius trailed off, speaking mostly to himself than to Harry.
Soundlessly, the door, hidden by the heavy curtains, swung open on oiled hinges.
*
Ack, since everyone wanted Remus, I cut 2 chapters out of WS. Chapter 20 was a composition of 3 chapters; there's about 30 chapters again… yeah, their meeting was reaaaaaally dragged out. I sort of want to bash, but kaydee would kill me...
*sigh* Harry needs to know about Sirius' guilt to his parents, even if he doesn't understand. He needs to know a little about wizards too… *sigh* So it may seem dragged out, but I'm trying very hard to incorporate everything and keep the plot going! But I'll leave any bashing to you. Chapters 16 to 22 are the lowest rung in the valley, everything after that are downhill runs without breaks, mostly because of the emotional issues involved in the middle of the story. Well… if I'm torturing you, its not intended!! But Giesbrecht probably doesn't believe me... or Tarawen... or Nuts... or... *hides*
I'm glad you all liked the dream! *claps* Nicky hit the nail on the head! *cheers*
Umm… through the AP's, I forgot about finals. Finals are next week, so I'm going to be gone for the majority of next week again… I probably could squeeze an update on Monday or Tuesday though... humm...
a/n Story dedicated to Moppet Poppet, Cheating Death's 500th reviewer!
Of Western Stars
By neutral
Chapter twenty - of opening doors
The moment the lady's footsteps faded into a distance, Remus forcibly tore himself from the numb haze. He stood, dropping his luggage haphazardly on the bed, and concentrated on keeping his hands steady.
The recent information puzzled him to no end. If the lady had blatantly stated that Sirius was treating Harry horribly, he would have searched every single room until he found them. But to hear that Sirius was actually helping the child, he wasn't sure what to do. A part of him still wanted to storm through every door, but the other was afraid. Afraid that he would find Harry alive and possibly even loved, he would lose some of the reason to hate the traitor. Remus had built the hatred against the murderer for five years already, and to have it suddenly torn away was disconcerting. Remus wondered if he'd ever get to the bottom of this without remembering Sirius with mixed feelings.
But he couldn't leave Harry with that traitor. Who knew what sort of lies Sirius could be planting into the child's head?
Systematically, he unpacked his nearly weightless belongings, demeanor much calmer than he felt.
The portkey he placed in his pocket, his wand he placed in the other. He drew a bottle full of colorless, tasteless sleeping potions that would probably stun Sirius until he was taken to Hogwarts, expression slipping into one of bitterness as he examined it in his hands. He could probably slip it in their food tonight before Martha took it to them.
An unfamiliar crinkled package stared at him from the depths of his small cloth bag. It was bulky but flimsy at the same time. The uneven surface caved in when he placed his hand against it. He never packed it, that much was certain. Arabella must have slipped it into his luggage before he left. Curious, Remus peeled back the paper wrapping, and stepped back in surprise.
James' invisibility cloak…
The silvery mesh stared back at him innocently, shimmering faintly in the dimly lit hotel room. With trembling hands, he lifted the feather light cloak, feeling the liquid cloth run between his fingers like mercury. It caught the rays of the sun that just peeked through his window, sending seams of rainbow glows that reflected across the walls.
Remus smiled wistfully despite himself, recalling all those adventures he had in his teenage years under the same cloak. They were so foolish and careless then…
Slowly, gently, as if fearful that the silky cloth would dissipate under his touch, Remus slipped it over his shoulders.
It as ironic, using James' cloak to track down his son. And possibly throwing Sirius back in Azkaban with the dementor's kiss.
Remus scowled inwardly at the thought. A small note slipped out between the folds. Remus picked it up with a steady hand.
Remus
James cloak, use it well. Try to locate them but do not act.
Send us your location. We will be there by that night.
Be careful.
Dumbledore
Dumbledore really thought things through, Remus decided. Invisibility charms were too complicated to cast and difficult to maintain. Just one slip would give him away. With the cloak, he no longer needed to wait. Remus wondered what the headmaster was thinking, doing one thing and telling him another. Sending the cloak was an obvious request for him to act, knowing that once his former pupil received it, no amount of logic would make him stay.
Slipping on the cloak, Remus moved from the sanctuary of the room. Mentally, he was already bracing himself for an intensive search. He half expected Sirius to cover them both with obscurity, even in a near deserted hotel with just twenty rooms. He half expected Sirius to use whatever dark arts he learned to make their presence next to invisible, and he would have to dig through the front desk's records just to find them. But as he paced the distance between his room to the receptionist desk, a black bag caught his eye. A trash bag most likely, stuffed full of stained bandages and plastic utensils. It hung on the door knob of an inconspicuous door, a deliberate giveaway.
Either Sirius never expected to be found, or whatever occurrences were making him careless. Remus entertained the thought of Sirius purposely misleading people who would come in search.
He broke the lock with a whispered unlocking charm and slowly creaked the door open only hesitantly. Even from the crack, he could see jackets lying haphazardly on the floor and various utensils that scattered over the desks. Old habits were hard to break, and Sirius was never someone known for his cleanliness. Plastic bottles lined the dresser, and even from a distance, Remus could tell they were muggle medicine. He wasn't sure what to think of it. He strained his ears to pick up any sound, but there was none.
Cautiously, he opened the door.
The room was empty.
Sirius had to blink several times to rid the graininess in his eyes, and even then he was only partially conscious. With the extent his thoughts tend to stray, he wondered just how much the lack of sleep was getting to him. His jaw was numb from where it was pressed against the unforgiving wood of the headboard, and his back was twisted between his chair and the bed. But he barely felt those, gently rocking the sleeping child back and forth.
Sirius pushed a few stray locks of hair to hide the jagged curse scar, and lightly traced a fading bruise over the child's cheek. He apologized… to him. The child was sorry about the trouble he caused, sorry that he even was hurt to begin with, sorry that he always made him upset. Sirius wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
Carefully, he extracted himself from the tangled blankets, gently lifting the child from the bed. The room was suffocating; he just realized neither of them had breathed fresh air in a week. Sliding open the bay windows to the balcony, Sirius stepped outside. There was no chairs on the slab on concrete; Sirius settled on leaning against the closed door with the child's small form resting against his shoulder. Drawing a deep breath, he stared at the dimming sky.
Disturbed by the cool breeze, Harry stirred in his cocoon of blankets. Sirius shifted his weight, easing him into a more comfortable position.
Harry squinted at him, looking even younger than the already undernourished boy without his glasses. Noticing his hand latched onto his godfather's sleeve, he dropped it as if burned and pulled away awkwardly.
"Sorry," he whispered quickly.
Sirius cringed.
"Harry, don't be sorry," Sirius murmured, making an obvious effort at suppression. "I should be the one apologizing." He trailed off, unable to continue.
Harry stilled, emerald eyes almost piercing in its intensity as he watched him.
Sirius drew a shuddering breath, running his hand over his face harshly. "It's James and Lily, your parents," he whispered hoarsely. "I… things happened, and I…"
"Do I… remind you of them? Is that why you're always unhappy?" Harry asked timidly, sinking in the cocoon of blankets as if trying to hide.
Sirius didn't stop to question how someone his age would understand something so complicated. He was already shaking his head, furious and horrified at the idea that the child could even think that. "No!" he said firmly, louder than he intended. "I made a mistake that hurt them a lot… and it… it hurt you too. It's too complicated to explain, and I promise I will tell you everything when you're old enough. But… not now. I'm sorry."
Harry was silent, but his gaze never drifted from his godfather's face. Sirius wondered for a moment, with the strange sort of glint in his eyes he only saw in Dumbledore, if Harry already knew and understood.
"You didn't mean to hurt them," Harry finally whispered with a quiet determination that made him seem far older than just six years of age.
"No, I didn't. I swear, I would never hurt James and Lily," Sirius choked out, too lost in his memories to register that Harry's words was a statement rather than a question.
Harry didn't answer at first. Tentatively, the child lifted his hand as if trying to touch his face. Sirius lowered his head, confused as to what he was trying to do, and once his arm could reach, placed his hand on his head. Sirius stilled, thoroughly perplexed by the odd gesture.
"You… you're…" Harry's eyes glazed, blinking up at him as if recalling a distant memory
"What is it?" Sirius asked, immediately concerned.
Harry gave his hair an odd pat that was frighteningly reminiscent of Padfoot's morning head rub; Sirius could feel the color draining from his face.
Harry's eyes flickered.
"You're Padfoot," Harry whispered, sounding a bit bewildered.
Sirius nearly dropped the child in surprise. He staggered, openly gaping. The confusion and shock in his mind completely stole his ability to speak for a moment.
How was it possible that Harry knew? He was delirious when Sirius first told him over six days ago, and he was asleep the two times he transformed. How could Harry know?
"How did you know?" Sirius choked out.
"A dream," Harry whispered timidly.
Sirius was speechless for another minute. Harry dreamt of these things? Could it be possible? But the art of divination passed through bloodlines and both Lily and James practically failed the class. And for someone so young to have such accurate dreams were rare.
Sirius swallowed, bewildered. He couldn't decide how Harry could have known. Perhaps the child had hidden talents that accelerated his abilities far above the norm? Or perhaps the years of abuse had twisted his abilities into another form?
Harry frowned slightly in puzzlement. "But… how?" he finally asked.
That was what I want to know too, Sirius thought numbly.
"It's magic," Sirius said slowly.
"Magic?" Harry echoed. He sounded oddly hopeful, but a cloud passed over his features. "But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said…" Harry trailed off.
Sirius scowled bitterly at just the mention of his relatives. He remembered Lily's older sister's absolute aversion to anything out of the ordinary. But Harry was easily startled already, and Sirius had to be very careful about reacting violently. He drew a deep, calming breath. "Don't worry about what they say. They're just the type of muggles that hate us or anything that has to do with us."
"Muggle?" Harry echoed again, looking as if he had just tasted his first chocolate.
"Non-magic people, it's…. sort of complicated to explain everything," Sirius sighed in frustration. "I'm not good at explaining these things"
But when Harry tilted his head to one side inquiringly, Sirius found himself launched into long description about wizards and their abilities. He talked about anything and everything he could think of: animagus transformations, Hogwarts, quidditch to the child resting quietly against him.
"Then Remus must be a wizard too," Harry whispered. "He can change into a silver wolf."
Sirius almost choked at the extent his throat pinched. Harry knew about Remus' lycanthrope? Sirius was pretty sure his friend would never tell Harry about that. They never spoke of Remus' condition, and it would be impossible even if he did retain his memories from infancy. And no type of magic could tell such things, especially as inexperienced as Harry was. Unless Harry was really…
Impossible.
"He is," Sirius admitted haltingly.
Harry knitted his brow as he gathered his thoughts, "Mum and Dad…"
"Were wizards," Sirius said softly.
Harry's eyes glowed with excitement, and he leaned forward eagerly.
Sirius smiled, brushing his fingers through Harry's thick and unruly hair. "They were some of the best in their time. They met in a wizard school, you know? I went there with Remus, your father, and your mother used to hate us because we would make fun of her all the time. She charmed our clothes to stick to the ceiling of the common room after James turned her hair into quills…" Sirius trailed off, speaking mostly to himself than to Harry.
Soundlessly, the door, hidden by the heavy curtains, swung open on oiled hinges.
*
Ack, since everyone wanted Remus, I cut 2 chapters out of WS. Chapter 20 was a composition of 3 chapters; there's about 30 chapters again… yeah, their meeting was reaaaaaally dragged out. I sort of want to bash, but kaydee would kill me...
*sigh* Harry needs to know about Sirius' guilt to his parents, even if he doesn't understand. He needs to know a little about wizards too… *sigh* So it may seem dragged out, but I'm trying very hard to incorporate everything and keep the plot going! But I'll leave any bashing to you. Chapters 16 to 22 are the lowest rung in the valley, everything after that are downhill runs without breaks, mostly because of the emotional issues involved in the middle of the story. Well… if I'm torturing you, its not intended!! But Giesbrecht probably doesn't believe me... or Tarawen... or Nuts... or... *hides*
I'm glad you all liked the dream! *claps* Nicky hit the nail on the head! *cheers*
Umm… through the AP's, I forgot about finals. Finals are next week, so I'm going to be gone for the majority of next week again… I probably could squeeze an update on Monday or Tuesday though... humm...