Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.
a/n see bottom.
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter four - cheating life
Everything became a blur from that point on. Sirius couldn't even hear the rest of the curse being spoken, or feel the cold grip of the Death Eaters holding him up. He could only see Harry as he struggled to stand on shaky legs, and a determination in his eyes far beyond his years. At first, he wondered what Harry was trying to do, but everything became obvious when he rushed forward.
No… what are you doing?! Sirius shouted in his mind.
There was a flash of green, and then a weight sank against him. The hands were gone in an instant, and Sirius fell backwards, eyes still open in shock, Harry's limp form slumped over him. The room was dead silent.
For a few minutes, Sirius could only stare at the messy mop of hair, and the closed eyes. Harry looked like he was sleeping peacefully, but there was so steady rise and fall of his chest. Then, everything struck him full force.
He screamed, grabbing his head and pulling at his hair, wishing that everything was just some terrible dream, and Harry would sit up and say it was all a game. But he didn't move. He couldn't feel Voldermort's gaze of hate and fear, the scene frighteningly reminiscent of the night he first died, when Harry deflected the killing curse as a result of Lily's sacrifice. He couldn't kill Sirius anymore. Around him, the air was filled with soft pops as the Death Eaters apparated away.
He picked up Harry's limp body, weary of the twisted arms and cracked ribs, wrapping him in a protective embrace, and cried.
He failed James and Lily again.
And this time, they wouldn't forgive him.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there. It could have been minutes or hours, but he didn't care. He just leaned against the cold wall, Harry's head nested against him, the pain too acute for words or tears. Sirius stared dully at the floor in front of him, rocking Harry's limp body back and forth like a small child.
Impossible! It wasn't happening. This was all a bad dream… yes, a dream. Any minute now, Harry would open his eyes and tell him that he was only resting.
But Harry's still chest and rapidly cooling body said otherwise. Numbly, Sirius rubbed his skin, trying to bring back some warmth.
It was his fault… if he hadn't been so careless. Even if he had died, then Harry wouldn't have come for him. Or maybe…
It took him several minutes, or maybe it was a few hours, he wasn't sure, to realize that he wasn't alone in the dim room. There was a soft rustling of clothes behind him. Sirius didn't turn, just continued to hold the limp form tightly.
"Are you going to kill me?" Sirius asked softly, resting his forehead against Harry's unruly tangles. "I'm not going to stop you."
There was a shuddering gasp, and then "Sirius… I'm…."
It was a voice he'd recognize anywhere.
"Wormtail," Sirius whispered, his words sounding dead and flat to even his own ears. "Are you happy? Are you satisfied?"
There was no reply. Sirius grinned bitterly, still staring at the floor in front of him. He traced the cold skin of Harry's arm, wincing inwardly when he touched the unnatural bend of the limb.
If it was any other time, he would have charged at Wormtail and strangled him with his bare hands. But with Harry lying lifelessly against him, he couldn't seem to find the strength. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of emptiness, like a dementor had already sucked out his soul. He could have cared less if it was Fudge staring at his exposed back.
"Sirius, I'm so sorry," he said with a choked sob, his voice trembling. "I never wanted Harry dead…"
"That didn't stop you from stabbing him, did it?" Sirius growled, suddenly feeling a flash of anger. "That didn't stop you from bringing back James and Lily's murder!"
Sirius closed his eyes and pulled Harry closer, feeling his hair brush against his shoulder. There were slow, hesitant steps towards him, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to care. When he opened his eyes again, the figure was directly in front of him.
Pettigrew began slowly, obviously scared. "Sirius, may I… see him?"
Sirius looked up sharply, pulling Harry even closer. Pettigrew had taken off his mask, and Sirius was surprised to see his eyes red and swollen. But that could be from anything, he decided angrily.
"Harry's already…" Sirius choked on the word, "dead. What more do you want? You've already brought him so much pain."
Wormtail stumbled back as if struck, body shaking violently. He looked at Sirius with a pained expression.
"I'll just leave then."
He glanced at Harry, face unreadable, before his entire form shimmered and he disapparated with a pop.
Sirius barely felt him go; he couldn't bring himself to care. He rocked Harry's body back and forth, and watched the floor in front of him turn from pitch black to golden brown from the sun's rays. Distantly, he could hear footsteps rapidly approaching. This was it, it was the end. He was going to be caught and given to the dementors, and frankly, he just didn't care.
Snape paused at the doorway in surprise when he caught sight of Black's form, half hidden by the shadows, the grip on Harry's Firebolt and invisibility cloak tightening. Sirius was still in the exact same position, half leaning against the wall, the lifeless body of Harry leaning against him in the mockery of sleep. If it wasn't for their old rivalry, he would have thought the scene incredibly sad, but then, he never wanted either of them to die.
"Black," he hissed, sounding sour. "What are you still doing here? Get out before the Ministry arrive."
Sirius shifted, hugging the boy closer, if it was at all possible, but didn't respond.
Snape groaned inwardly, marching across the room in four long strides. "Do I have to drag you? Get out of here!"
His voice echoed off the walls sharply, but Sirius didn't even wince. For a moment, Snape considered the possibility of Sirius finally losing his sanity.
"Why didn't you stop him?" Sirius finally asked.
Taken by surprise, Snape took several minutes before he could answer, "Do you think I didn't try? He practically ran after the other Death Eaters when they led the way."
Sirius was silent.
"I'm not leaving," he said finally, his voice soft and distant.
"Do you want to be known to the world as the person who killed Harry Potter?" Snape asked angrily. "Because if the Ministry catches you, then you'll really be hopeless."
"I did kill Harry!" Sirius shouted, suddenly looking up.
The wild glint in his eyes made Snape's usually sour expression slip in shock.
"He died because of me," Sirius whispered, looking down again. "He wanted to save me… He died because I killed him!"
Snape sighed in exasperation. He never liked Black, but he didn't exactly hate him either. He knew he was frighteningly loyal, to both his friends and to his enemies (although, not exactly a friendly loyalty). And after seeing Potter's pathetically stupid but brave display brought him back to a different light. He decided to try a different route.
"Listen, Black. Evidently, Potter thought you were worth saving. If you sit here and mope, and waste his sacrifice when you get caught by the Ministry, forget about Potter, even I won't forgive you! Now get out of here." Snape shoved the invisibility cloak and the Firebolt in front of him.
His words seemed to finally arouse Sirius a bit, and he looked up dully.
"Those are Harry's. He left them outside for me to escape with. He never planned to get out of here alive, did he?" Sirius asked, his eyes empty.
Snape paused, unsure of how to answer that question. Finally, he sighed. "No. He wanted you to live. You have to at least do that for him." Those words were completely uncharacteristic for him, he thought the moment they left his mouth. Sounds like something the werewolf would say.
Sirius didn't seem to notice. Something flickered in his eyes, and he took the cloak and the broom with trembling hands. Snape waited until he stood up, still holding Harry in a death grip, and walked to the door.
"Go to Lupin's," Snape said as he led the way outside. "Don't get lost. And leave the boy," he added, suppressing a shudder as he eyed Harry's unnaturally pale face.
"I'm not leaving Harry."
"Do you have any idea what'll happen if you're caught with his body?" Snape asked, looking at Sirius in exasperation.
"I don't care."
Snape glanced at Sirius sharply, but decided against another snide remark. He watched Sirius pull on the cloak awkwardly, never loosening his hold on the Potter boy. The two disappeared with a watery shimmer, followed by the broom. The suddenly breeze told of their departure, and Snape sighed, his entire body sagging.
The Potter boy was dead. Dead for an idiot like Black! The stupid, stupid fool.
He rubbed his eyes wearily and turned away. Now, to break the news to Dumbledore. Snape shuddered, dreading the headmaster's reaction.
Remus jerked awake, spilling his cold coffee over the table and staining the cloth. He glanced at the clock blearily, noting the time. 10:37. He yawned, wincing when his back cracked in protest. He had been sleeping at odd hours and on various cold surfaces ever since Sirius vanished two weeks ago, and no amount of tracking could seem to trace him. He dreaded what would happen to Sirius; he was the only friend he had left. If the ministry found him, he would be killed. If Voldermort caught him, he would be killed. He was caught against a dead end with no escape route.
Loud bangs echoed down the hall. Remus frowned, wondering who would visit him. He had very few unannounced visitors.
He nearly fell in shock when he opened the door. Sirius blinked back at him, a broom and a shimmering cloak in one hand and a bundle of bloody robes in another, looking more haggard and thin than he could remember. His eyes were empty and haunted; he swayed slightly on his feet.
"Sirius!" Remus choked out, both relieved and bewildered. "How…?"
Sirius didn't answer, and the paleness of his friend's face told Remus he wasn't going to stay standing for much longer. He reached out and helped his friend inside quickly, wincing when he noticed the bruises on his arms. The broom suddenly caught his attention.
"Padfoot, isn't that Harry's broom? And his invisibility cloak!" Remus asked, glancing at his friend in confusion. "Why do you have them?"
At those words, Sirius seemed to break down completely. He sagged against Remus, who stumbled under the weight.
"It was my fault, Moony. I killed him!" he said with a strained sob.
Startled, Remus hauled him to the sofa and pulled away, looking into his friend's face questioningly.
"Sirius, what are you…?" he broke off sharply when he noticed strands of dark brown hair peaking out from under the bundle of robes. He reached out and pulled the cloth aside, gasping at the sight.
Harry, ghastly pale, leaned against Sirius lifelessly. Livid bruises were etched in his skin, a hand print on his cheek, finger marks on his neck, and dried blood caking his chin. Remus tilted his head, trying to get a better look at the cut, when he realized Harry's skin was icy cold.
"No…" he choked out, feeling for a pulse. There was none. He swallowed, eyes going wide with disbelief.
Impossible! It wasn't happening. How could Harry be dead? He was so well protected.
He looked at Sirius, hands trembling. "How? What happened? Sirius?"
But Sirius didn't seem to be listening. He pulled Harry's limp form into a tight embrace, body racked with sobs. Remus backed away, sitting heavily in a chair. His emotions were rapidly becoming numb, and memories whirled in his head. His third year with Harry, watching him at the quittich game, seeing Harry summon the patronus. He just seemed so alive…
He didn't noticed the fire turn green, and nor did he see the three figures tumble out. He was too lost in his own thoughts, it wasn't until the voice repeated his name a third time that he snapped back into reality.
"Albus?" he whispered weakly, still not turning. "How did this happen?"
At first, the headmaster didn't reply. He only approached the sofa slowly, looking old and feeble again. Dumbledore watched at Sirius with an unreadable expression, then brushed his fingers through Harry's hair, eyes softening and the twinkle gone.
Finally, Dumbledore sighed. "I received this a few hours ago."
He handed a badly crinkled scrap of parchment to him. Confused, Remus unrolled it, and gasped. "It's from Harry!"
That seemed to catch Sirius' attention. He looked up, still not loosening his grip.
"Read it aloud," Dumbledore said softly.
"Sirius is in trouble. Voldermort has him. He's at the graveyard where Cedric died.
Harry.
Ps. I got this paper back after I tried to write to him. Do you think there are any enchantments on this?"
Remus frowned and turned the paper over, almost dropping it in surprise when the dark mark glared back at him.
"It doesn't say anything about what he was planning to do," said another voice behind him.
Remus turned, and noticed the yellow face of Snape, still in his Death Eater cloak, and Madam Pomfrey, moping her face with a large handkerchief.
"I should have known Harry would figure it out," Dumbledore continued, closing his eyes and looking away. "I didn't want to tell him because I know it would upset him. I thought it would be better to wait until we had some news. I should have known he would dream about it."
Snape looked sympathetic for a moment. "No one could have guessed he would go after Sirius by himself."
Dumbledore shook his head. "The third task changed him. He didn't want anyone else dying. Harry thought he brought only trouble and wasn't worth the effort of protecting."
There was an uneasy silence.
"What happened there?" Remus asked again, hand still trembling with shock.
Sirius finally gave a muffled sob. "My fault… died because of me… killing curse… ran in front…," he buried his face in Harry's dark hair. "I tried to kill him! Imperious curse… broke his arm… tried to strangle him…"
Remus felt horror stricken. Whatever Sirius had been through, he probably wouldn't recover this time. Losing the only person that he had left because of him…
"Told me to tell… Ron and Hermione… sorry. Say hi to Professor Lupin for him," Sirius couldn't help but suppress a bitter smile. Remus choked and buried his face in his hands. "Tell Dumbledore that it wasn't his fault."
"That's enough, Sirius," Dumbledore whispered. "Sleep."
At his word, Sirius slumped backward onto the sofa, the grip on Harry slackening slightly. Slowly, Dumbledore extracted Harry from Sirius' arms gently rested him in another chair. He took off his glasses and folded them neatly on the table.
"Poppy, can you see to him?"
The nurse nodded, wiping her eyes quickly. She levitated Sirius' limp body, looking at Harry for a moment, and transfigured the couch into a bed. Remus barely noticed her as she passed, his eyes still fixed on Harry, leaning in the chair, looking like he had only been resting. He looked younger without his glasses, more frail and venerable. Too young to carry such a burden.
"What are we going to do?" he asked, eyes unblinking.
Dumbledore sighed again, smoothing Harry's hair. "Leave him. I still have hopes for Harry."
Both Remus and Snape looked at Dumbledore sharply at his statement, but he didn't give any explanations. Turning, he made his way to the fireplace.
"I have to break the news," he said softly. "Severus, would you like to stay?"
Snape looked at Harry and then Sirius and shook his head. "I'll go."
When he passed Remus, he opened his mouth as if wanting to say something, but closed it again. Stiffly, he followed.
The fire flickered and died.
Remus sagged against his chair, the room blurring in his vision.
*
Am I evil, or am I evil? *cackle* There, see, Sirius didn't die! But, well… *hides*
Thanks for all those great reviews! Sorry for not updating for a week, off with homework. No time to reply to any of them, ack, I'll do it for the next chapter. Sorry! But I don't have much time and I just finished a chapter a couple minutes ago. Now, to read, Biology *groans*
I wished I changed the title… its really distracting. Humm… short chapter, what do you think? This isn't even halfway through, so bear with me here.
a/n see bottom.
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter four - cheating life
Everything became a blur from that point on. Sirius couldn't even hear the rest of the curse being spoken, or feel the cold grip of the Death Eaters holding him up. He could only see Harry as he struggled to stand on shaky legs, and a determination in his eyes far beyond his years. At first, he wondered what Harry was trying to do, but everything became obvious when he rushed forward.
No… what are you doing?! Sirius shouted in his mind.
There was a flash of green, and then a weight sank against him. The hands were gone in an instant, and Sirius fell backwards, eyes still open in shock, Harry's limp form slumped over him. The room was dead silent.
For a few minutes, Sirius could only stare at the messy mop of hair, and the closed eyes. Harry looked like he was sleeping peacefully, but there was so steady rise and fall of his chest. Then, everything struck him full force.
He screamed, grabbing his head and pulling at his hair, wishing that everything was just some terrible dream, and Harry would sit up and say it was all a game. But he didn't move. He couldn't feel Voldermort's gaze of hate and fear, the scene frighteningly reminiscent of the night he first died, when Harry deflected the killing curse as a result of Lily's sacrifice. He couldn't kill Sirius anymore. Around him, the air was filled with soft pops as the Death Eaters apparated away.
He picked up Harry's limp body, weary of the twisted arms and cracked ribs, wrapping him in a protective embrace, and cried.
He failed James and Lily again.
And this time, they wouldn't forgive him.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there. It could have been minutes or hours, but he didn't care. He just leaned against the cold wall, Harry's head nested against him, the pain too acute for words or tears. Sirius stared dully at the floor in front of him, rocking Harry's limp body back and forth like a small child.
Impossible! It wasn't happening. This was all a bad dream… yes, a dream. Any minute now, Harry would open his eyes and tell him that he was only resting.
But Harry's still chest and rapidly cooling body said otherwise. Numbly, Sirius rubbed his skin, trying to bring back some warmth.
It was his fault… if he hadn't been so careless. Even if he had died, then Harry wouldn't have come for him. Or maybe…
It took him several minutes, or maybe it was a few hours, he wasn't sure, to realize that he wasn't alone in the dim room. There was a soft rustling of clothes behind him. Sirius didn't turn, just continued to hold the limp form tightly.
"Are you going to kill me?" Sirius asked softly, resting his forehead against Harry's unruly tangles. "I'm not going to stop you."
There was a shuddering gasp, and then "Sirius… I'm…."
It was a voice he'd recognize anywhere.
"Wormtail," Sirius whispered, his words sounding dead and flat to even his own ears. "Are you happy? Are you satisfied?"
There was no reply. Sirius grinned bitterly, still staring at the floor in front of him. He traced the cold skin of Harry's arm, wincing inwardly when he touched the unnatural bend of the limb.
If it was any other time, he would have charged at Wormtail and strangled him with his bare hands. But with Harry lying lifelessly against him, he couldn't seem to find the strength. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of emptiness, like a dementor had already sucked out his soul. He could have cared less if it was Fudge staring at his exposed back.
"Sirius, I'm so sorry," he said with a choked sob, his voice trembling. "I never wanted Harry dead…"
"That didn't stop you from stabbing him, did it?" Sirius growled, suddenly feeling a flash of anger. "That didn't stop you from bringing back James and Lily's murder!"
Sirius closed his eyes and pulled Harry closer, feeling his hair brush against his shoulder. There were slow, hesitant steps towards him, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to care. When he opened his eyes again, the figure was directly in front of him.
Pettigrew began slowly, obviously scared. "Sirius, may I… see him?"
Sirius looked up sharply, pulling Harry even closer. Pettigrew had taken off his mask, and Sirius was surprised to see his eyes red and swollen. But that could be from anything, he decided angrily.
"Harry's already…" Sirius choked on the word, "dead. What more do you want? You've already brought him so much pain."
Wormtail stumbled back as if struck, body shaking violently. He looked at Sirius with a pained expression.
"I'll just leave then."
He glanced at Harry, face unreadable, before his entire form shimmered and he disapparated with a pop.
Sirius barely felt him go; he couldn't bring himself to care. He rocked Harry's body back and forth, and watched the floor in front of him turn from pitch black to golden brown from the sun's rays. Distantly, he could hear footsteps rapidly approaching. This was it, it was the end. He was going to be caught and given to the dementors, and frankly, he just didn't care.
Snape paused at the doorway in surprise when he caught sight of Black's form, half hidden by the shadows, the grip on Harry's Firebolt and invisibility cloak tightening. Sirius was still in the exact same position, half leaning against the wall, the lifeless body of Harry leaning against him in the mockery of sleep. If it wasn't for their old rivalry, he would have thought the scene incredibly sad, but then, he never wanted either of them to die.
"Black," he hissed, sounding sour. "What are you still doing here? Get out before the Ministry arrive."
Sirius shifted, hugging the boy closer, if it was at all possible, but didn't respond.
Snape groaned inwardly, marching across the room in four long strides. "Do I have to drag you? Get out of here!"
His voice echoed off the walls sharply, but Sirius didn't even wince. For a moment, Snape considered the possibility of Sirius finally losing his sanity.
"Why didn't you stop him?" Sirius finally asked.
Taken by surprise, Snape took several minutes before he could answer, "Do you think I didn't try? He practically ran after the other Death Eaters when they led the way."
Sirius was silent.
"I'm not leaving," he said finally, his voice soft and distant.
"Do you want to be known to the world as the person who killed Harry Potter?" Snape asked angrily. "Because if the Ministry catches you, then you'll really be hopeless."
"I did kill Harry!" Sirius shouted, suddenly looking up.
The wild glint in his eyes made Snape's usually sour expression slip in shock.
"He died because of me," Sirius whispered, looking down again. "He wanted to save me… He died because I killed him!"
Snape sighed in exasperation. He never liked Black, but he didn't exactly hate him either. He knew he was frighteningly loyal, to both his friends and to his enemies (although, not exactly a friendly loyalty). And after seeing Potter's pathetically stupid but brave display brought him back to a different light. He decided to try a different route.
"Listen, Black. Evidently, Potter thought you were worth saving. If you sit here and mope, and waste his sacrifice when you get caught by the Ministry, forget about Potter, even I won't forgive you! Now get out of here." Snape shoved the invisibility cloak and the Firebolt in front of him.
His words seemed to finally arouse Sirius a bit, and he looked up dully.
"Those are Harry's. He left them outside for me to escape with. He never planned to get out of here alive, did he?" Sirius asked, his eyes empty.
Snape paused, unsure of how to answer that question. Finally, he sighed. "No. He wanted you to live. You have to at least do that for him." Those words were completely uncharacteristic for him, he thought the moment they left his mouth. Sounds like something the werewolf would say.
Sirius didn't seem to notice. Something flickered in his eyes, and he took the cloak and the broom with trembling hands. Snape waited until he stood up, still holding Harry in a death grip, and walked to the door.
"Go to Lupin's," Snape said as he led the way outside. "Don't get lost. And leave the boy," he added, suppressing a shudder as he eyed Harry's unnaturally pale face.
"I'm not leaving Harry."
"Do you have any idea what'll happen if you're caught with his body?" Snape asked, looking at Sirius in exasperation.
"I don't care."
Snape glanced at Sirius sharply, but decided against another snide remark. He watched Sirius pull on the cloak awkwardly, never loosening his hold on the Potter boy. The two disappeared with a watery shimmer, followed by the broom. The suddenly breeze told of their departure, and Snape sighed, his entire body sagging.
The Potter boy was dead. Dead for an idiot like Black! The stupid, stupid fool.
He rubbed his eyes wearily and turned away. Now, to break the news to Dumbledore. Snape shuddered, dreading the headmaster's reaction.
Remus jerked awake, spilling his cold coffee over the table and staining the cloth. He glanced at the clock blearily, noting the time. 10:37. He yawned, wincing when his back cracked in protest. He had been sleeping at odd hours and on various cold surfaces ever since Sirius vanished two weeks ago, and no amount of tracking could seem to trace him. He dreaded what would happen to Sirius; he was the only friend he had left. If the ministry found him, he would be killed. If Voldermort caught him, he would be killed. He was caught against a dead end with no escape route.
Loud bangs echoed down the hall. Remus frowned, wondering who would visit him. He had very few unannounced visitors.
He nearly fell in shock when he opened the door. Sirius blinked back at him, a broom and a shimmering cloak in one hand and a bundle of bloody robes in another, looking more haggard and thin than he could remember. His eyes were empty and haunted; he swayed slightly on his feet.
"Sirius!" Remus choked out, both relieved and bewildered. "How…?"
Sirius didn't answer, and the paleness of his friend's face told Remus he wasn't going to stay standing for much longer. He reached out and helped his friend inside quickly, wincing when he noticed the bruises on his arms. The broom suddenly caught his attention.
"Padfoot, isn't that Harry's broom? And his invisibility cloak!" Remus asked, glancing at his friend in confusion. "Why do you have them?"
At those words, Sirius seemed to break down completely. He sagged against Remus, who stumbled under the weight.
"It was my fault, Moony. I killed him!" he said with a strained sob.
Startled, Remus hauled him to the sofa and pulled away, looking into his friend's face questioningly.
"Sirius, what are you…?" he broke off sharply when he noticed strands of dark brown hair peaking out from under the bundle of robes. He reached out and pulled the cloth aside, gasping at the sight.
Harry, ghastly pale, leaned against Sirius lifelessly. Livid bruises were etched in his skin, a hand print on his cheek, finger marks on his neck, and dried blood caking his chin. Remus tilted his head, trying to get a better look at the cut, when he realized Harry's skin was icy cold.
"No…" he choked out, feeling for a pulse. There was none. He swallowed, eyes going wide with disbelief.
Impossible! It wasn't happening. How could Harry be dead? He was so well protected.
He looked at Sirius, hands trembling. "How? What happened? Sirius?"
But Sirius didn't seem to be listening. He pulled Harry's limp form into a tight embrace, body racked with sobs. Remus backed away, sitting heavily in a chair. His emotions were rapidly becoming numb, and memories whirled in his head. His third year with Harry, watching him at the quittich game, seeing Harry summon the patronus. He just seemed so alive…
He didn't noticed the fire turn green, and nor did he see the three figures tumble out. He was too lost in his own thoughts, it wasn't until the voice repeated his name a third time that he snapped back into reality.
"Albus?" he whispered weakly, still not turning. "How did this happen?"
At first, the headmaster didn't reply. He only approached the sofa slowly, looking old and feeble again. Dumbledore watched at Sirius with an unreadable expression, then brushed his fingers through Harry's hair, eyes softening and the twinkle gone.
Finally, Dumbledore sighed. "I received this a few hours ago."
He handed a badly crinkled scrap of parchment to him. Confused, Remus unrolled it, and gasped. "It's from Harry!"
That seemed to catch Sirius' attention. He looked up, still not loosening his grip.
"Read it aloud," Dumbledore said softly.
"Sirius is in trouble. Voldermort has him. He's at the graveyard where Cedric died.
Harry.
Ps. I got this paper back after I tried to write to him. Do you think there are any enchantments on this?"
Remus frowned and turned the paper over, almost dropping it in surprise when the dark mark glared back at him.
"It doesn't say anything about what he was planning to do," said another voice behind him.
Remus turned, and noticed the yellow face of Snape, still in his Death Eater cloak, and Madam Pomfrey, moping her face with a large handkerchief.
"I should have known Harry would figure it out," Dumbledore continued, closing his eyes and looking away. "I didn't want to tell him because I know it would upset him. I thought it would be better to wait until we had some news. I should have known he would dream about it."
Snape looked sympathetic for a moment. "No one could have guessed he would go after Sirius by himself."
Dumbledore shook his head. "The third task changed him. He didn't want anyone else dying. Harry thought he brought only trouble and wasn't worth the effort of protecting."
There was an uneasy silence.
"What happened there?" Remus asked again, hand still trembling with shock.
Sirius finally gave a muffled sob. "My fault… died because of me… killing curse… ran in front…," he buried his face in Harry's dark hair. "I tried to kill him! Imperious curse… broke his arm… tried to strangle him…"
Remus felt horror stricken. Whatever Sirius had been through, he probably wouldn't recover this time. Losing the only person that he had left because of him…
"Told me to tell… Ron and Hermione… sorry. Say hi to Professor Lupin for him," Sirius couldn't help but suppress a bitter smile. Remus choked and buried his face in his hands. "Tell Dumbledore that it wasn't his fault."
"That's enough, Sirius," Dumbledore whispered. "Sleep."
At his word, Sirius slumped backward onto the sofa, the grip on Harry slackening slightly. Slowly, Dumbledore extracted Harry from Sirius' arms gently rested him in another chair. He took off his glasses and folded them neatly on the table.
"Poppy, can you see to him?"
The nurse nodded, wiping her eyes quickly. She levitated Sirius' limp body, looking at Harry for a moment, and transfigured the couch into a bed. Remus barely noticed her as she passed, his eyes still fixed on Harry, leaning in the chair, looking like he had only been resting. He looked younger without his glasses, more frail and venerable. Too young to carry such a burden.
"What are we going to do?" he asked, eyes unblinking.
Dumbledore sighed again, smoothing Harry's hair. "Leave him. I still have hopes for Harry."
Both Remus and Snape looked at Dumbledore sharply at his statement, but he didn't give any explanations. Turning, he made his way to the fireplace.
"I have to break the news," he said softly. "Severus, would you like to stay?"
Snape looked at Harry and then Sirius and shook his head. "I'll go."
When he passed Remus, he opened his mouth as if wanting to say something, but closed it again. Stiffly, he followed.
The fire flickered and died.
Remus sagged against his chair, the room blurring in his vision.
*
Am I evil, or am I evil? *cackle* There, see, Sirius didn't die! But, well… *hides*
Thanks for all those great reviews! Sorry for not updating for a week, off with homework. No time to reply to any of them, ack, I'll do it for the next chapter. Sorry! But I don't have much time and I just finished a chapter a couple minutes ago. Now, to read, Biology *groans*
I wished I changed the title… its really distracting. Humm… short chapter, what do you think? This isn't even halfway through, so bear with me here.