Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.
a/n see bottom.
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter eight - cheating forgiveness
"Si… Sirius?" he whispered hesitantly, hardly believing his eyes. His godfather looked nothing like the man he saw a few hours ago, or was it days? He probably lost even more weight than before, his skin was beginning to take on a ghostly hue.
Sirius didn't respond. Hand trembling, Harry reached out and touched him gently on the shoulder. He connected with rough fabric, much to his surprise. Sirius stiffened, but remained silent.
"Sirius?" Harry whispered, a little louder.
Sirius froze at his voice, straightening slowly but not daring to speak. Then slowly, very slowly, he turned at stared at the hand on his shoulder.
"Sirius," Harry said again, a tone of desperation in his voice. "Can you see me?"
Sirius lifted his head, his sunken, haunted eyes stopping on Harry's face. The look in them was unreadable, but then a mixture of hope, hurt, and disbelief fluttered on his face.
"Harry," he choked out.
He grasped Harry's hand tightly, and for the first time, Harry noticed the bundle lying in his lap. He cried out in shock and surprise when his own face met his eyes, looking deathly pale in oversized robes. But before it could sink in, he was enveloped in a tight embrace that made him lose his balance and fall forward. Sirius didn't seem to notice, his face buried in Harry's thick black hair, shaking with silent sobs.
"Oh god, Harry. Harry. Harry," he said over and over again, words strangled between gasps.
Harry's eyes were wide, barely noticing even when Sirius crushed him tightly against his shirt. His gaze was locked on the form lying discarded on the bed, limp and lifeless. His body. How was this possible? Was he a ghost? Was this an illusion?
"I know I'm dreaming, but I don't care," Sirius was whispering, words choked in his throat. "I don't care if Moony thinks I've finally gone insane. I just wanted to see you again."
"Sirius," Harry said, slowly touching Sirius' arm hesitantly. "I don't think I'm alive."
Those words seemed to pain him even more. Sirius' sobs racked his entire body, pulling him closer and burying his head against his chest. Harry patted his back awkwardly. He had never seen his godfather cry like this before, and he was sure it took a lot for him to break down. Seeing him like this was frightening. Harry could feel his eyes misting in response, feeling strangely young and helpless again.
Was it really because of him? Harry wondered. Was he really that important?
"Why?" Sirius asked suddenly, resting his head on Harry's unruly hair.
Harry hid his face in Sirius' coarse shirt, trying to forget the question. He didn't want to think; he just wanted to hide in his godfather's embrace, and hide from all the troubles that plagued him. He wasn't even sure himself, it seemed like a distant dream, blurry and fragmented.
"I don't know. All I remember was," Harry paused swallowing uncomfortably, unsure how to put his thoughts into words. "I really, really did not want you to die."
Sirius responded with a indiscernible word, and Harry felt himself pulled closer. He hadn't really thought about Sirius' reaction when he threw himself in front of the curse. But now, seeing him broken like this, Harry began to wonder if he had made the right choice.
"Is this a dream?" Sirius finally asked.
"I don't know," Harry admitted slowly. "I remember running in front of the curse, and then appearing at a marsh. Then out of nowhere, appeared trees, and the other Riddle was there and Diggle was saying something about another Dark Lord. And then I was here. It doesn't make any sense."
"It doesn't matter," Sirius whispered. His voice still sounded distant, as if he was expecting to wake up at any moment and he was still trying to cling to the dream.
Sirius quieted, but refused to loosen his grip. Harry was stiff in the embrace, unused to the display of affection, but Sirius didn't seem to notice. .
"Oh god, Harry, I'm sorry," Sirius whispered in his hair repeatedly. "I should have died. It shouldn't have been you."
"No!" Harry said quickly, a surge of anger replacing his distress. "I'm glad you're alive. You should be alive. I don't care what happens to me."
He wanted Sirius to be happy, but it seemed whatever he did produced just the opposite effect.
Sirius shook his head fiercely, clinging to Harry like a lifeline. "You were too young. It should have been me. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry."
Harry hugged back awkwardly, trying to be as reassuring as possible.
"Sirius, you can't go on like this," Harry said softly, voice muffled against the robes.
He could feel Sirius shaking his head again, stubbornly refusing.
"You have to move on. Don't let this hold you back."
"No!" Sirius whispered angrily. "I don't care what anybody says. I can't. I won't."
"Sirius, you're letting your entire life go to waste!" Harry said a little louder than he intended. He pulled away, meeting Sirius' eyes furiously.
Sirius stared back intractably, looking equally determined. "I've wasted so many lives already. I--"
That was too much. Seeing Sirius so thorn, and his life in shambles was too much for him to take in. With all the frustration of the last few hours, the fear, the anger, the helplessness all crashed down on him. Harry burst into tears for the second time that week, crying harder than he did since Dudley had pushed him down the flight of stairs on his fourth birthday. He threw his arms around Sirius' neck, not embarrassed at the childish display, and sobbed.
Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't seem to put any of his thoughts into words. He wanted to scream at Sirius, to tell him to let go, move on, forget his godson who did nothing but ruin others' lives. Didn't Sirius realize that he was just making Harry more miserable than before?
"Stop it," Harry finally choked out. "Don't do this."
Sirius seemed startled by Harry's reaction, but could find no words to reply. He finally closed his eyes, returning the embrace tightly, as if afraid he would disappear again. He rubbed his back reassuringly, waiting until Harry relaxed and quieted. Sirius smiled bitterly. His wish had been granted; he saw Harry again. Harry didn't blame him. He still loved him like his own father. But even so, Sirius couldn't help but wish for something more. Why couldn't they be less cruel? Why couldn't Harry be alive?
The first thing that he noticed when he awoke was the dull pain on the bridge of his nose. Harry opened his eyes reluctantly, not wanting to move from the warm cocoon. The room swam back into focus as a coarse grey shirt, and Harry was surprised to notice he was leaning against something warm but bony, his glasses pressed against his face. He could feel a hand on the back of his head. When the memories returned, Harry sat up sharply. The room was still there. So was Sirius. And he was… asleep? Was that even possible?
A part of him furiously hoped that it wasn't a dream; he couldn't fall asleep in dreams, right?
Sirius' grip slipped away, his head lolling forward limply. Slowly, Harry stood up, careful not to jostle the surface, and moved so that Sirius would be lying comfortably on the bed. His godfather was tall, probably a good feet taller than him, but the past few days took a lot out of him, he was frighteningly light. Harry bit back a grimace as he noticed his bony limbs as he drew the blanket over him. His death must have hit him hard.
He caught sight of the lifeless form on the bed. It was odd, staring at your own dead body. Perhaps he was a spirit, and the only way to return to life was to touch his old shell. Hesitantly, Harry placed his hand over the cold forehead, feeling the familiar zigzag of the scar under his palm.
Nothing happened.
Disappointed, Harry pulled away. He wasn't a ghost. He wasn't exactly a wandering spirit. He wasn't in a dream. He wasn't in the Land of the Dead either. What the hell was going on?
Well, whatever it was, he really didn't want to stare at his own body. A bit fearfully, Harry dragged the lifeless form off the covers, trying to avoid looking at his own face as much as possible. He left the body in a chair at the furthest corner of the room, although it took a lot of dragging. Harry was left, pale and trembling from the effort. It was disconcerting, touching that thing. He couldn't relate it as once being himself.
He took several deep breaths, then stopped. He could breathe. He could feel. Does that mean he was alive again, however separate from his old shell?
Harry desperately hoped that was true. He didn't want to go back there to people like Diggle, or meet Mr. Riddle again. But even as he contemplated that, Harry knew he didn't regret his decision. Sirius was alive, and his was worth the sacrifice. He had caused so much trouble already; that was the least he could to.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft creak. The door opened slowly, and a tall, pale man with rapidly graying hair walked slowly into the room. Harry gasped in recognition, but Remus looked nothing like he remembered. There were dark circles under his eyes, with a dullness in their color, and he swayed slightly on his feet. He looked as if he suffered a rather untimely full moon.
"Professor Lupin?" he whispered, hopefully. Perhaps if Sirius could see him, Remus could see him too.
Remus stopped, turning his head in his direction. Harry's heart jumped, but he suddenly realized his old professor wasn't staring at him, but at the form beside him. Remus' face turned into a grimace of pain when he looked at the lifeless body, slumped against the chair.
"Professor Lupin!" Harry said again, more desperately this time.
But Remus made no indication of having heard him at all. He turned his face away, unable to bear the sight. His shoulders slouched in defeat, and he moved to sit beside Sirius' sleeping figure. He watched his friend in silence for a long minute with an unreadable expression. Finally, he sighed, burying his face in his hands.
"I thought you were going to lose it there for a moment, Padfoot," he whispered.
Harry bit his lip, wondering what had happened when he died. He must have caused everyone so much pain; he couldn't even imagine what Ron and Hermione were going through. It seemed that anything he tried to do made everything worse. He was trying to do everyone a favor! Harry thought angrily. He was trying to relieve them of a burden, but he ruined it. He ruined everything!
Harry leaned against the chair in defeat, closing his eyes and willing everything to leave him in peace and just let him be. Why couldn't things be simple?
A soft breeze ruffled his hair. Surprised, Harry opened his eyes, almost crying out when a wall of rocks and crevasses of a mountain face met his eyes. Large boulders littered the surface, and the ground was covered in sharp, fierce rocks. Behind him, sea of trees spanned out to the horizon, trees that Harry recognized instantly.
He was back. Sirius was gone.
*
I really don't like this chapter. Something about it doesn't tie up, either that or its just poorly written. But i had this vague idea I'm going to be killed if I hide it any longer, so woah, here it is. I'll repost it maybe later when I find the time. Before then, bear with me here. Sorry!
Surprise! How was that? *cackle* I'm trying to make this story as unpredictable as possible, and after reading the reviews for the previous chapter, it seems like it was working. *laughs evilly* pieces of the plot bunny will be released in the next chapter that answers what the hell Harry is.
Wow… amazing reviews. I keep telling everyone I'll reply, but guess what, I have 4 tests tomorrow! I shouldn't even be here, but… wah… I feel so evil for hiding eight chapters away. I'm not going to post them until I'm sure they're ready, there's still a lot of errors in them and still need to be polished a bit.
I'm so sorry this the last chapter was a cliffee! This isn't! See? I'm okay, right? I can come out of the closest now?
Oh no, sorry Lin-z, I forgot to explain what happens to Harry's body. Umm.. Lets pretend that Harry's body didn't rot, okay? *grin* Uhh.. No more sugar for you Katameran! Crud! I hear my parents… gotta go. Byebye. Expect the next post at around… uhh…. 2 or 3 days.
a/n see bottom.
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter eight - cheating forgiveness
"Si… Sirius?" he whispered hesitantly, hardly believing his eyes. His godfather looked nothing like the man he saw a few hours ago, or was it days? He probably lost even more weight than before, his skin was beginning to take on a ghostly hue.
Sirius didn't respond. Hand trembling, Harry reached out and touched him gently on the shoulder. He connected with rough fabric, much to his surprise. Sirius stiffened, but remained silent.
"Sirius?" Harry whispered, a little louder.
Sirius froze at his voice, straightening slowly but not daring to speak. Then slowly, very slowly, he turned at stared at the hand on his shoulder.
"Sirius," Harry said again, a tone of desperation in his voice. "Can you see me?"
Sirius lifted his head, his sunken, haunted eyes stopping on Harry's face. The look in them was unreadable, but then a mixture of hope, hurt, and disbelief fluttered on his face.
"Harry," he choked out.
He grasped Harry's hand tightly, and for the first time, Harry noticed the bundle lying in his lap. He cried out in shock and surprise when his own face met his eyes, looking deathly pale in oversized robes. But before it could sink in, he was enveloped in a tight embrace that made him lose his balance and fall forward. Sirius didn't seem to notice, his face buried in Harry's thick black hair, shaking with silent sobs.
"Oh god, Harry. Harry. Harry," he said over and over again, words strangled between gasps.
Harry's eyes were wide, barely noticing even when Sirius crushed him tightly against his shirt. His gaze was locked on the form lying discarded on the bed, limp and lifeless. His body. How was this possible? Was he a ghost? Was this an illusion?
"I know I'm dreaming, but I don't care," Sirius was whispering, words choked in his throat. "I don't care if Moony thinks I've finally gone insane. I just wanted to see you again."
"Sirius," Harry said, slowly touching Sirius' arm hesitantly. "I don't think I'm alive."
Those words seemed to pain him even more. Sirius' sobs racked his entire body, pulling him closer and burying his head against his chest. Harry patted his back awkwardly. He had never seen his godfather cry like this before, and he was sure it took a lot for him to break down. Seeing him like this was frightening. Harry could feel his eyes misting in response, feeling strangely young and helpless again.
Was it really because of him? Harry wondered. Was he really that important?
"Why?" Sirius asked suddenly, resting his head on Harry's unruly hair.
Harry hid his face in Sirius' coarse shirt, trying to forget the question. He didn't want to think; he just wanted to hide in his godfather's embrace, and hide from all the troubles that plagued him. He wasn't even sure himself, it seemed like a distant dream, blurry and fragmented.
"I don't know. All I remember was," Harry paused swallowing uncomfortably, unsure how to put his thoughts into words. "I really, really did not want you to die."
Sirius responded with a indiscernible word, and Harry felt himself pulled closer. He hadn't really thought about Sirius' reaction when he threw himself in front of the curse. But now, seeing him broken like this, Harry began to wonder if he had made the right choice.
"Is this a dream?" Sirius finally asked.
"I don't know," Harry admitted slowly. "I remember running in front of the curse, and then appearing at a marsh. Then out of nowhere, appeared trees, and the other Riddle was there and Diggle was saying something about another Dark Lord. And then I was here. It doesn't make any sense."
"It doesn't matter," Sirius whispered. His voice still sounded distant, as if he was expecting to wake up at any moment and he was still trying to cling to the dream.
Sirius quieted, but refused to loosen his grip. Harry was stiff in the embrace, unused to the display of affection, but Sirius didn't seem to notice. .
"Oh god, Harry, I'm sorry," Sirius whispered in his hair repeatedly. "I should have died. It shouldn't have been you."
"No!" Harry said quickly, a surge of anger replacing his distress. "I'm glad you're alive. You should be alive. I don't care what happens to me."
He wanted Sirius to be happy, but it seemed whatever he did produced just the opposite effect.
Sirius shook his head fiercely, clinging to Harry like a lifeline. "You were too young. It should have been me. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry."
Harry hugged back awkwardly, trying to be as reassuring as possible.
"Sirius, you can't go on like this," Harry said softly, voice muffled against the robes.
He could feel Sirius shaking his head again, stubbornly refusing.
"You have to move on. Don't let this hold you back."
"No!" Sirius whispered angrily. "I don't care what anybody says. I can't. I won't."
"Sirius, you're letting your entire life go to waste!" Harry said a little louder than he intended. He pulled away, meeting Sirius' eyes furiously.
Sirius stared back intractably, looking equally determined. "I've wasted so many lives already. I--"
That was too much. Seeing Sirius so thorn, and his life in shambles was too much for him to take in. With all the frustration of the last few hours, the fear, the anger, the helplessness all crashed down on him. Harry burst into tears for the second time that week, crying harder than he did since Dudley had pushed him down the flight of stairs on his fourth birthday. He threw his arms around Sirius' neck, not embarrassed at the childish display, and sobbed.
Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't seem to put any of his thoughts into words. He wanted to scream at Sirius, to tell him to let go, move on, forget his godson who did nothing but ruin others' lives. Didn't Sirius realize that he was just making Harry more miserable than before?
"Stop it," Harry finally choked out. "Don't do this."
Sirius seemed startled by Harry's reaction, but could find no words to reply. He finally closed his eyes, returning the embrace tightly, as if afraid he would disappear again. He rubbed his back reassuringly, waiting until Harry relaxed and quieted. Sirius smiled bitterly. His wish had been granted; he saw Harry again. Harry didn't blame him. He still loved him like his own father. But even so, Sirius couldn't help but wish for something more. Why couldn't they be less cruel? Why couldn't Harry be alive?
The first thing that he noticed when he awoke was the dull pain on the bridge of his nose. Harry opened his eyes reluctantly, not wanting to move from the warm cocoon. The room swam back into focus as a coarse grey shirt, and Harry was surprised to notice he was leaning against something warm but bony, his glasses pressed against his face. He could feel a hand on the back of his head. When the memories returned, Harry sat up sharply. The room was still there. So was Sirius. And he was… asleep? Was that even possible?
A part of him furiously hoped that it wasn't a dream; he couldn't fall asleep in dreams, right?
Sirius' grip slipped away, his head lolling forward limply. Slowly, Harry stood up, careful not to jostle the surface, and moved so that Sirius would be lying comfortably on the bed. His godfather was tall, probably a good feet taller than him, but the past few days took a lot out of him, he was frighteningly light. Harry bit back a grimace as he noticed his bony limbs as he drew the blanket over him. His death must have hit him hard.
He caught sight of the lifeless form on the bed. It was odd, staring at your own dead body. Perhaps he was a spirit, and the only way to return to life was to touch his old shell. Hesitantly, Harry placed his hand over the cold forehead, feeling the familiar zigzag of the scar under his palm.
Nothing happened.
Disappointed, Harry pulled away. He wasn't a ghost. He wasn't exactly a wandering spirit. He wasn't in a dream. He wasn't in the Land of the Dead either. What the hell was going on?
Well, whatever it was, he really didn't want to stare at his own body. A bit fearfully, Harry dragged the lifeless form off the covers, trying to avoid looking at his own face as much as possible. He left the body in a chair at the furthest corner of the room, although it took a lot of dragging. Harry was left, pale and trembling from the effort. It was disconcerting, touching that thing. He couldn't relate it as once being himself.
He took several deep breaths, then stopped. He could breathe. He could feel. Does that mean he was alive again, however separate from his old shell?
Harry desperately hoped that was true. He didn't want to go back there to people like Diggle, or meet Mr. Riddle again. But even as he contemplated that, Harry knew he didn't regret his decision. Sirius was alive, and his was worth the sacrifice. He had caused so much trouble already; that was the least he could to.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft creak. The door opened slowly, and a tall, pale man with rapidly graying hair walked slowly into the room. Harry gasped in recognition, but Remus looked nothing like he remembered. There were dark circles under his eyes, with a dullness in their color, and he swayed slightly on his feet. He looked as if he suffered a rather untimely full moon.
"Professor Lupin?" he whispered, hopefully. Perhaps if Sirius could see him, Remus could see him too.
Remus stopped, turning his head in his direction. Harry's heart jumped, but he suddenly realized his old professor wasn't staring at him, but at the form beside him. Remus' face turned into a grimace of pain when he looked at the lifeless body, slumped against the chair.
"Professor Lupin!" Harry said again, more desperately this time.
But Remus made no indication of having heard him at all. He turned his face away, unable to bear the sight. His shoulders slouched in defeat, and he moved to sit beside Sirius' sleeping figure. He watched his friend in silence for a long minute with an unreadable expression. Finally, he sighed, burying his face in his hands.
"I thought you were going to lose it there for a moment, Padfoot," he whispered.
Harry bit his lip, wondering what had happened when he died. He must have caused everyone so much pain; he couldn't even imagine what Ron and Hermione were going through. It seemed that anything he tried to do made everything worse. He was trying to do everyone a favor! Harry thought angrily. He was trying to relieve them of a burden, but he ruined it. He ruined everything!
Harry leaned against the chair in defeat, closing his eyes and willing everything to leave him in peace and just let him be. Why couldn't things be simple?
A soft breeze ruffled his hair. Surprised, Harry opened his eyes, almost crying out when a wall of rocks and crevasses of a mountain face met his eyes. Large boulders littered the surface, and the ground was covered in sharp, fierce rocks. Behind him, sea of trees spanned out to the horizon, trees that Harry recognized instantly.
He was back. Sirius was gone.
*
I really don't like this chapter. Something about it doesn't tie up, either that or its just poorly written. But i had this vague idea I'm going to be killed if I hide it any longer, so woah, here it is. I'll repost it maybe later when I find the time. Before then, bear with me here. Sorry!
Surprise! How was that? *cackle* I'm trying to make this story as unpredictable as possible, and after reading the reviews for the previous chapter, it seems like it was working. *laughs evilly* pieces of the plot bunny will be released in the next chapter that answers what the hell Harry is.
Wow… amazing reviews. I keep telling everyone I'll reply, but guess what, I have 4 tests tomorrow! I shouldn't even be here, but… wah… I feel so evil for hiding eight chapters away. I'm not going to post them until I'm sure they're ready, there's still a lot of errors in them and still need to be polished a bit.
I'm so sorry this the last chapter was a cliffee! This isn't! See? I'm okay, right? I can come out of the closest now?
Oh no, sorry Lin-z, I forgot to explain what happens to Harry's body. Umm.. Lets pretend that Harry's body didn't rot, okay? *grin* Uhh.. No more sugar for you Katameran! Crud! I hear my parents… gotta go. Byebye. Expect the next post at around… uhh…. 2 or 3 days.