Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.
a/n I have come to the realization that never in this lifetime am I ever going to finish editing it. So, as promised (Allocin, I have not forgotten!!) in a previous agreement, if I cannot revise, I will post the entire story in a couple big hunks as it is and then find a tub and drown.
Warning: these are very, very rough drafts! I wrote these back in May so the style's very different. *sigh*
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter twenty-two - cheating a misfortune
"Sirius!!"
Sirius jerked straight up from the grass when Harry's voice cut through the clearing. Instinctively, he reached for his wand, the years as a fugitive had honed his responses. Harry was running towards them, looking awkward and close to tripping in his borrowed clothes.
"Sirius, they know! The Death Eaters… they know we're here. We have to leave right now!"
Beside him, James stiffened. Harry's reaction had caught him completely off guard, having never been acquainted with his son's uncanny perceptions and odd revelations.
"They intercepted one of our owls to Mum yesterday, and they're coming here as we speak," Harry seemed amazingly calm for someone convinced of danger. "We have to leave right now! They coming."
"Harry, are you sure about this?" James asked sharply, sparing Sirius a few questioning glances.
Harry nodded as he drew several breaths. He seemed unusually winded after such a short run, but he was still weary from the injuries two days before. But when he spoke, his tone was firm and unwavering. "I'm sure. It can't be lying, that would make no sense. None of the death eaters can speak with…" Abruptly, Harry broke off, paling visibly. He turned to Sirius with an oddly desperate expression.
"What is it?" Sirius asked worriedly.
Harry chewed his lip, but didn't speak for a long minute.
There was a soft hiss. Harry startled in surprise, but Sirius barely heard the noise. A snake slithered through the grass at Harry's feet, its tongue flicking against his cloak. The boy took several steps back almost fearfully, and Sirius' expression darkened in understanding.
"James, we have to go," he whispered.
When Sirius said now, he meant it. Seeing his friend's expression, James caught onto the gravity of the situation instantly. He asked no questions as he packet their few possessions, plotting the quickest way to intercept Lily in their travels. Harry found himself gasping for breath as he half jogged half walked after the two taller men, a good foot or so taller than him, trying to keep from tripping over his long traveling cloak.
Two days was not nearly enough to recover from his previous injuries, but even so, Harry was forced to admit the ability to instantly regenerate for the dead was much more helpful than spending a week in the hospital wing. Sirius and James glanced around nervously as they walked, face hidden in dark hoods that made Harry shiver every time he glanced at them. They looked too much like the Death Eaters they were evading for his liking.
At a fallen log, snagged his foot and threw Harry against the grass hard. He had seen it, but he couldn't seem to find the strength to drag his leg over. James helped him up quickly, concerned when Harry leaned against him heavily, breath coming in short gasps.
"Sirius, we should take a break. Harry's not going to hold out much longer."
Harry shook his head quickly, leaning against a tree to catch his breath. He was eager to see his mother, and delaying them would be the last thing he wanted. "I'll be okay."
Sirius was doubtful. He had learned long ago not to trust Harry's word when it came to matters like this. "Harry, stop lying. You look ghastly. James, can we spare a few minutes?"
"I don't know. I thought I heard footsteps a few moments ago, but I could be imagining it," James said softly, scanning the area quickly. The trio held their breaths for a second, listening intently. Dead silence met their ears; not even a bird song shattered the air, no rustle of the wind. James frowned. "Something's not right. Let's get out of here. Sorry Harry, but you'll have to deal."
Harry nodded, straightening and forcing his legs to stay steady. He was surprised when James grabbed him around the waist and lifted him easily. Instinctively, he squirmed in the hold, feeling awkward. He had never been held like that even as a boy, or if he had, he certainly couldn't remember it. He was used by such an open display of affection, considering the only time Sirius or James held him was when he was unconscious. But James held him still.
"You don't seriously want to walk," he murmured, staring at his son pointedly.
"N… No, it's just that…," Harry stammered, but hesitant to voice his thoughts. "Aren't I heavy?" he finally asked, leaning stiffly against James' shoulder.
"No, I'd be happier if you were," James said, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. Suddenly, he smiled, "Oh, I understand. You're too old for this stuff, right?"
Harry flushed in even more humiliation. "No! I was just saying…"
"James," Sirius glared at James warningly, saving Harry from a hasty explanation. "I don't think the Dursleys carried him around when he was a child. Cut the kid some slack, okay?"
Harry was even more uneasy after Sirius' words. He turned away, looking anywhere but Sirius and James' face. James sighed, throwing Sirius a rather exasperated glare. But his eyes had softened considerably, and his arm around Harry tightened.
"You take things too seriously, Harry. I was only joking," James said gently
Sirius grunted, looking resentful. "I doubt those sorry excuse for muggles joked around with Harry either. Hell, I doubt they spent any more attention necessary to keep Harry alive."
James frowned, a surge of bitterness through him at the mention of Harry's relatives. A soft crunch shattered the thoughts in James' mind. He stilled, craning his neck over Sirius' shoulder to scan the brightly lit path. Distinctively, he could see a shadow withdraw back behind a thick trunk.
"There's someone behind us."
James' words seemed like the death toll. The instant those words left his mouth. Black cloaks descended upon them from all sides, streaming out behind thick trunks, low bushes, every angle imaginable. They seemed to have been expecting them, lying in wait for their final arrival. Sirius cursed under his breath, and both men simultaneously stepped in front, blocking Harry from view. But the effort was futile.
"There he is!" a masked man pointed at Harry with blackened fingers. James instinctively pulled Harry closer. "Once we have him, we can avenge ourselves!"
Harry's mind clicked in recognition.
"That man… he was at the mountains!" Harry whispered. James' eyes narrowed, gripping Harry's arm tightly.
There was uneasy shifting between the figures, the action disturbingly reminiscent of the time when Harry transfigured Voldemort back into Riddle. That was when Harry realized, they didn't trust him. They didn't follow the masked man.
"You mean, you can avenge yourself!" Harry shot back angrily as he pulled from his father's protection. He was surprised at his own outburst, but he couldn't seem to restrain himself. "You're too afraid of coming after me yourself, so you get everyone else to help you!"
Distantly, he could feel James' grasp tense painfully, trying to pull him back, but Harry resisted.
"In case you fail, you won't be the only one, right?" Harry continued, glaring at him angrily. "You'll drag them all down with you!"
The tension between the cloaked men was almost tangible. The stranger made a low growl in his throat, but Harry forced himself to meet his shielded gaze unflinchingly. Then, slowly, the man reached up to his face, peeling away the skull-like film over his face. Dull black eyes met his, shallow and sunken in a swallow face. If it hadn't been those lifeless eyes, than man would have looked commonplace and easily overlooked. Harry blinked back, unable to identify the face.
"You don't recognize me, do you?" the man said, malice lacing his voice. "Perhaps the name would help?"
Harry gritted his teeth, reluctant to play the game. But despite the rather grim situation, Harry was amazed at the numbness that he felt; the cloaked men didn't intimidate him anymore. They were outnumbered, a good ten or twenty were all pressed and weaved between trees. But perhaps it was the knowledge of him unable to die, or perhaps it was the strange sense that seemed to exude from them. Harry had an idea they weren't very powerful wizards. They lacked the presence of Dumbledore and Voldemort, and didn't leave the same effect.
"I don't know what your name is," Harry said quietly.
With a snarl, the man raised his wand, his entire body trembling whether with hate or fear he did not know. "You are the one who killed me, you fool! You don't deserve to even be here! You deserve to suffer!"
Harry stumbled in shock, but James held him still. "What? I don't know what you're talking…"
"Liar! You were there that day, when Master tried to kill you. You deliberately led him to me!"
The words of denial rose in the back of Harry's throat, but a memory returned full force and dashed it before it even came. Of Voldemort, seething from the boggart curse. Of him, dodging the avada kedavra. Of a Death Eater stiffening under a stray impact and falling lifelessly to the floor. Harry's blood suddenly became ice in his veins, his body numb.
"That was you?" Harry whispered, words much calmer than he felt or looked.
James glanced at Harry sharply in surprise.
"I was just trying to get out of the way, I had no idea…"
"Shut up!" the man shrieked, raising his wand.
The man growled, throwing a string of hexes in his direction. Harry broke from his daze to dive out of the way, but James tore in the other direction, hand still glued to his son's shoulder. He would have fallen right into the curses' path if Sirius hadn't latched onto his other arm and dragged him forward.
"Quick, Sirius, take Harry and run. I'll hold them off!" James hissed. With a flick of his wand, a thin film of gold rose around them, absorbing a couple of weak spells.
"No, I can't do that!" Sirius shot back. He was preoccupied as he disarmed a few unsuspecting Death Eaters with a carefully aimed curse.
"At least get Harry out of here!" James shoved Harry into his godfather's arms with a force that made them both stumble.
Sirius hesitated, looking torn between leaving his best friend and saving his godson. The barrier flickered and died, cracking and splintering under a deadly curse. James was momentarily distracted by raising another barrier charm, hoping to buy enough time for Sirius to leave. But Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation. It was happening all over again: his parents' death to protect him, Sirius' sacrifice for him. With a burst of rashness and anger, Harry tore himself from Sirius' grasp.
"Harry!"
Sirius reached out to drag his godson back, but a stray curse caught his outstretched arm and left a gaping cut. He drew back with a hiss of pain. The enemies, sensing a weakness, rained curses at him from all sides. Sirius blocked them and countered them distractedly, eyes scanning for Harry through the black cloaks.
Once the barrier had crumbled, curses seemed to rain from the sky. Harry blindly avoided a few stunning spells that came his way. He forced his mind to focus, trying to think despite the onslaught. Harry couldn't help but feel a flicker of guilt. The men were after him; that man hated them because Harry had killed him. He was the guilty one! James and Sirius were dragged into this unfairly. Perhaps if he led them away. Led them away…
But he was tired, his legs were shaking under his weight and his muscles felt like water. His breath already came in short gasps and sweat was coating his skin. The weariness in his body was weighing him down, and he barely caught himself from falling several times.
It was impossible, Harry realized with a sinking heart. There were too many, they were too outnumbered, they weren't going to win. The cloaked men hardly seemed to notice him at all; they swarmed to James and Sirius and locked them into a tight corner. Not even the unmasked stranger seemed to target him; he pointed his wand yelling out unforgivables at every breath.
A movement caught his attention. Harry's stomach twisted when he noticed the man direct his wand towards Sirius, sidetracked by a thick of enemies that had cornered James and was trying to free his friend.
"Sirius! Watch out!" Harry shouted.
Sirius snapped into attention at Harry's warning, instinctively ducking out of the way. Behind him, a masked man shrieked in pain, the skin on his hands scalding as if struck with boiling water, his arms twisting in inhuman positions. Sirius seemed unfazed by the figure screaming behind him, deftly flinging a few Death Eaters out of his way with a flick of his wand. Even after these years, none of his auror training had left him.
"Sirius, go help Harry! Don't worry about me." James shouted brokenly.
Sirius hesitated only for an instant. He nodded, waving his wand to stun a few unsuspecting men, struggling to get to his godson. Harry was about to raise his wand to help when a force slammed into his back, leaving fire in its wake, flinging him to the ground.
Sirius froze when the screams rang through the thicket. But the screams soon sank into muffled cries, sounding as if he was trying to swallow the angry pain that rose in his throat. Harry seemed to be making a conscious effort to suppress the agony of the cruciatus curse even as he writhed on the floor. His legs were drawn against his chest, his hands were clenched, clawing the soft earth as the curse ate into his body. His face was contorted with pain, his eyes squeezed shut behind his glasses.
"Stop!" Sirius shouted, pointing his wand with a hand that shook with anger.
James rushed from behind him, reaching for the boy who had gone still on the grass. But invisible hands dragged Harry when James was only inches from him, pulling him into the air and hanging him like a mockery of a broken puppet. All strength seemed to have gone, Harry's head was slumped, his limbs lifeless, his entire body seemed to be hung from his wand arm. Sirius' stomach churned when the man stepped behind the dangling body, pointing the wand at Harry's exposed throat.
"You…," Sirius muttered a curse. His eyes were narrowed and his fists clenched. He looked ready to tear the enemy from limb to limb. The Death Eaters beside them had gone eerily still.
Harry made a small grunt of pain, grasping his shoulder weakly. "Let go!" he choked out. He squirmed in the grasp, struggling to put some weight on the ground. To have his entire body suspended in air by an injured limb was enough to bring black spots to his vision and dizziness to his head.
The man only sneered with sickening pride.
Sirius could feel anger breaking in his body and streaming through his blood. He jumped at the man, wand forgotten, but James dragged him back quickly. James was trembling with rage, the color gone from his face and a fire sparking in his eyes.
"Let him go right now, or I swear I will…," Sirius hissed, fighting James' hold.
"What do you want?" James asked carefully.
Harry's head snapped up, eyes wide with terror. But the stranger only smiled.
"He's right. You are terribly predicable. You sound just like your son before he died."
"What do you want?!" James shouted. The anger was burning, begging to be released. His wand was aching to throw a deadly curse at the stranger.
"Put your wands down."
*
Okay, I think I'm too mean to Harry. He gets hurt far too often. I'm so sorry!!
This was a scene later spliced into the story.
Chapter twenty-three - cheating a voice
"No…," Harry gasped as he struggled against the strings that seemed to entangle his arm and suspend him in the air.
Don't listen to him! He tried to say, but the flames that ate at his shoulder choked it back.
With his collarbone so recently shattered, the pressure felt as if his bones was being ripped away piece by piece. He looked pleadingly at his father, but James seemed to misinterpret his watery gaze, clouded with pain.
James nodded, eyes still fixed on his son as he lowered his wand. But one glance at Sirius told him that he had understood. Sirius stared at him, regret and some apology etched into his face. With a firm, unflinching stare, he followed James' movement.
The action seemed to fuel Harry's desperation. All the pain was forgotten as he twisted angrily. "No! Don't do it! Stop, get out of here. Forget about me!" Harry shouted.
A sharp pain cut his words short. The force of the slap tore at his joint, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. Harry choked, tasting blood in his mouth. But the anger at the injustice of it all made him rash. Harry reached blindly for the man's wand, but the elevated position placed him at a different height. Harry was surprised to find a handful of coarse hair in his grasp. But without a second thought, Harry clutched at the short brown hair and pulled it as hard as his weakened body would allow.
There was an angry hiss. Perhaps it was the stranger's shock and surprise, Harry wasn't sure, but the force that held his arm snapped and Harry went tumbling to the floor. All the strength that sustained him before was gone in a second, he couldn't even bring himself to turn and face his enemy. It was as if the imperious curse was back, enveloping him in a thick cocoon. All Harry wanted to do was lie still on the cool, inviting grass.
A sharp kick to the side of his ribs brought him out of his daze. Harry cried out in protest, squirming away to wrap a protective arm around his side.
"Stop! I'll put down my wand!" James said quickly.
"No!" Harry gritted out, struggling to stand. A second kick knocked the wind from his lungs and he sank back to the floor. A heel of the leather boot met his hand that gripped his wand solidly; there was a distinct crack as the fragile bones of his wrist gave away. Harry screamed when the lightening ripped through his arm.
Harry could barely hear the angry shouts that rang through the thicket. He could pick out the voice of James, yelling hexes and curses as he fought his way through the men. Sirius' words were strained and distracted. But one voice stood out distinctly in the mix of sounds.
'Little boy… little boy… foolish little boy. The Dark Lord laughs at you.'
The hair on the back of his neck prickled in warning. He knew that voice. Harry cracked open his eyes wearily, trying to pick out the shiny scales in the low grass.
'Shut up! Go away! Why can't you just let us be?' Harry choked out desperately. He barely noticed James and Sirius jerk around to face him, unnerved by the soft inhuman hissing. A shudder ran through the faceless men. The unmasked man stilled, taking a step back in disbelief.
A hot brand suddenly pressed itself against his scar. Harry felt as if his entire skull was being split open from the flames; long fingers were ranking over his mind, twisting and shredding his skin. He cried out, clutching at his head.
Voices came to him thickly in a cloud, voices of fear. Distantly, Harry could feel figures shifting around him uneasily.
"… parselmouth… like Master…!" a man choked out.
But it was slurred and muffled as if he had been underwater. Harry could feel something large and heavy bounding forward, the sound of canine growling echoing through the air. Then there was a rough shuffle, startled cries. Hands were on him, dragging him upward. Harry tried to fight against the stranger, but all he managed to do was squirm blindly. But as he protested, all the stress and weariness collapsed back on him. Harry slumped forward, his world a pleasant, comforting black.
It was dark. The air was heavy again his chest and the silence was like a hand, pushing him to the ground. It was as if he was at the marsh again, each foot sinking deeper and deeper into the muck.
'You lost.'
'Who are you?' Harry whispered. But instead of those words, soft hissing met his ears, barely even stirring the heavy silence that rested like a blanket across the land.
'Hardly important.'
The smooth calmness of the voice made Harry grind his teeth in irritation. It was too much like that day at the Riddle House, where Voldermort played him like a chess piece. 'What do you want?'
'Nothing you can give. You already lost.'
'What?' Harry asked, fear drawing color out of his face.
'Little boy… gave yourself willingly. Foolish, so foolish.'
'What did…' Harry swallowed, mouth suddenly going dry. 'What did I lose?"
'Yourself.'
Harry's breath caught as if a cold hand clenched his chest and squeezed the air from his lungs.
'That's not true!' Harry gasped, a shiver raking his entire body.
'Little boy, say good-bye…'
'You're lying!'
'Pathetic thing. Do you think half spirits can actually survive?'
'What?' Harry choked out.
'You're going to be like the others soon… Soon, you're going to sink into darkness like all half spirits do.'
Harry jerked awake abruptly, cold sweat coating his skin and his head pounding with pain. He felt like someone had just grabbed a hold of him and thrust him back into his body. There was a voice, a dream, a snake that whispered secrets in his ear. But they were rapidly fading away, sliding through his mind like water in his hand. Harry frowned, opening his eyes cautiously.
The room was an indistinct blur that made the incessant pounding turn into fingernails raking inside his skull. Harry groaned, quickly closing his eyes again.
A hand ran across his forehead with a cool cloth.
"Harry?"
The voice was familiar. Harry cracked an eye open, squinting against the light. There was a soft shuffle, and something cold was placed against his eyes. Harry blinked as the room came sharply into focus.
"Dad?" Harry asked softly.
James had made a remarkable transformation since the last time he had seen him. Dark rings encircled his eyes and he was pale and haggard. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days on end.
"You're finally awake," James whispered, sighing audibility in relief. "We thought you had been cursed for a moment there."
Harry stared at him blankly, "What do you mean?"
"You slept for almost two days straight. No amount of spells would wake you up," James frowned slightly, brushing a few stray hairs from Harry's eyes. "How do you feel?"
"Alright," Harry answered automatically.
Only after he spoke did he realize that was partly the truth; with his glasses, the room seemed less bright, less blinding. The pounding in his head had dulled into a low buzz. Slowly, Harry tested his limbs, amazed at how quickly the pain had left it. His right shoulder felt unnaturally warm, as if someone had cast several healing charms over the abused skin.
He was asleep for that long? Harry thought with surprise. He hadn't even slept that long after falling over the side of the cliff. Harry couldn't ignore the nagging suspicion that something was wrong.
"What happened after I was out?" Harry asked worriedly, shifting slightly to face his father, the blanket surprisingly unyielding.
"They left. Former Death Eaters were never that organized; they were pretty much shunned by all of us, I guess they all followed him because he offered hope. But those men that Voldemort killed usually died because of their incompetence. I'm hardly surprised they abandoned him," James grumbled bitterly, a flash of anger tinting his brown eyes.
"Are you sure you're alright?" James couldn't help but ask. The image of his son lying helpless on the ground as the Death Eater cruelly kicked him was burned into his mind. But the way his son reacted seemed almost as if that experience wasn't foreign to him at all. James paused, examining Harry's face carefully. "You looked like you were dreaming some minutes ago."
Harry stilled at James' words. The dream! Harry couldn't suppress a pang of panic. All the words came back in acute detail. Was it the Dark Lord that held him back, and not himself?
Harry still couldn't hide a shiver that ran down his spine. Another Dark Lord? This was too much…
"Harry, what's wrong?" James asked, breaking into Harry's thoughts.
Harry paled, turning to his father was searching eyes. James expression held nothing but concern, but Harry was reluctant to worry him. James had been so excited about having Harry finally meet his mother, he was afraid of destroying every chance at happiness. Should he tell?
"No, nothing's wrong," Harry said quickly. It had came a lot from a subconscious decision, years of lying made it seem natural to him. Harry regretted it the moment those words left his mouth, but he couldn't seem to take them back.
You're such a idiot, Harry! He shouted at himself. This could be serious!
"Is there another Dark Lord here?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"No," James said quietly, a pensive frown crossing his face. "It's just a myth. The Dark Lord was never seen. Not even Thomas has seen him, and he was the first here." Catching Harry's incredulous expression, he ruffled Harry's hair soothingly. "I've already traveled every inch of this land. There is no Dark Lord's hideout here. It's probably just a creation of everyone's obsessive fear of Voldemort. Don't worry about it. They're just lies."
Harry nodded, feeling a distant warmth of reassurance. His dream was just a pointless nightmare. Those fears were just hidden fears of his mind. But Harry couldn't hide the biting doubt with voices of the hissing still echoing in his head. he crushed it away forcibly.
It was just a dream, Harry firmly told himself. They were figments of your imagination.
But the shadow remained, colder than ever in the back of his mind.
"Harry," James words broke into his thoughts suddenly, sounding unusually serious. "About what happened back there."
Harry paled. "You heard. Did Sirius tell you before that… that I'm a parselmouth?"
"No," James inwardly frowned when he felt Harry stiffen even more beside him. "Sirius explained it to me afterwards. Harry, do you think I'll hate you just because you can speak parseltongue? I could care less if you were a werewolf. You're my son! I know you're not evil, Harry. I know you're nothing like Voldermort."
Despite those words, Harry's face fell. "The hat wanted to place me in Slytherin. It said I would do well there," Harry murmured, uneasy again. "It only placed me in Gryffindor because I didn't want to be in the same house as Malfoy. And Voldemort even said I was a lot like him… the same upbringing… brother wand cores… I even looked like him when he was young!"
It was a relief to finally get those words off his chest, but Harry couldn't bring himself to face his father's stunned face.
*
Chapter twenty-four - cheating relief
A hand turned his head gently; Harry looked at his father, somewhat fearful of his reaction. But James' seemed worried, not angry.
"Harry, if you were like him, you would have never forgiven the Dursleys. You would have never died for Sirius," James said firmly.
But that's different, Harry wanted to say. What if I learn to hate later on? What if I do become like him one day?
That had been his greatest fear since second year, when so many parallels between him and Tom Riddle were established. They were too like, too frighteningly alike. What if one day, something happened, and Harry found himself going down the same path? But it was still some amount of comfort to know that his father, the very figure that Riddle despised and was rejected by, had such faith in Harry.
Harry smiled uneasily to reassure James, trying to distract himself from those nagging fears. Instead, he scanned his surroundings, surprised when a small room with peeling plaster and cheap, whitewashed walls met his eyes. Trees peeked through the window, dusty curtains shielding only a bit of light. But the austere room was fit with the largest bed-like sofa that he ever seen, supporting the three of them with much more room to spare. The edges brushed against the walls; they were fortunate the door opened outwards. It clashed with the plain and soft colors, the red and gold of the blankets glaring back. It looked like something transfigured, by the clean, crisp sheets.
"Where are we?" Harry asked, looking around in surprise.
"The cottage. We just got here a few hours ago," James said. Catching his son's inquiring gaze, he patted the bed with a smile. "Transfigured it from an apple. This house is too small, this is the only bed room. Sirius ate the other apples, so now we only have one. And I sort of forgotten the spell for transfiguring beds." James added sheepishly.
Harry glanced around, relieved and surprised when he caught sight of Sirius in the far corner of the room. His godfather looked like he was trapped in a rather uneasy sleep as he leaned against an armrest; his brows were knotted and his breathing unsteady.
"Sirius hasn't been sleeping very much, has he?" Harry softly asked.
James' smile slipped several notches as he glanced at his friend. "No. He was really worried about you, but the injuries he had before he came here probably caught up with him. He was really tired."
Harry nodded, sinking back against sofa. His father's tone had been soft, but Harry caught a flicker in his expression that worried him.
"Dad, why do you want me to go back?" Harry suddenly blurted out.
James paused, surprised by the question. The way Harry had worded it, it almost seemed as if he was condemning his own son to a life of horror. James hesitated, searching his mind for an explanation.
"I want you to be happy," James slowly began.
"But what if I'm not happy there?" Harry asked desperately. "What if I get everybody hurt?"
James stilled at his son's words, everything clicked into place. Harry was afraid of condemning those around him by association. James was unsure of what to say; he saw so little of his son's life.
He sighed, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder, mindful of the injury. "Harry, they must be very upset already." There was a brief flicker of guilt in his emerald eyes, and James quickly dropped the topic. "You won't be happy here. You want to be with your friends. You want to be with Sirius."
Harry wasn't sure what to say. He hated the thought of losing his parents again, but he couldn't help but feel that James was right. Ron and Hermione, if they knew he chose death because he wanted to protect them… They would never forgive him.
And Sirius was like a father to him, and he dreaded to imagine life was like with someone who understood and accepted him was torn away.
He had been uneasy in James' presence, but felt perfectly safe with Sirius'. But much of that stemmed with Sirius' understanding of him; he had seen much more, been through much more with his godfather. James was a long lost parent that offered warmth and comfort, but Harry was afraid of sharing his past with him. What if James treated him differently? What if his past got in the way of his future? He always wanted his family to live as if nothing ever came between them; he didn't want them hung on his past.
Sirius was different. He was the one person that needed Harry to be anyone but himself. Ron and Hermione expected him to be trusting, Dumbledore expected him to be strong. Everyone had such expectations of him, but only Sirius understood. But Harry couldn't help but feel guilty for trending on the patience that it obviously must take for James not to grind him with questions.
Sirius' arm twitched convulsively. His godfather's face knotted with pain for a brief moment, and he turned his head away. But Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't asleep.
"Padfoot, I know you're awake," James said, poking him with his wand. "If you don't admit it, I'm going to hex you."
Sirius lifted his head so that his hair was no longer screening his face, a glint shimmering in his eyes that hid the shadows.
"You were eavesdropping!" James said accusingly, poking him harder. But much of that was a distraction for the guilt that Sirius tended to relive often.
Sirius made a face, "I was not! I just woke up a few minutes ago and was going back to sleep… Hey! Watch where you point that!" he grumbled, ducking another attack.
"I was having a nice conversation with my son too, Padfoot!" James shot back, giving Sirius a good-humored slap on the side of his head. But Sirius twisted away, holding Harry in front and hiding behind him as a safeguard. Harry flushed in embarrassment.
"Hey!" James muttered indignantly. "First, you hold Harry hostage for four hours and now you use him as a shield!"
"I am not!" Sirius snapped, quickly moving from behind him. He paused, turning to examine Harry carefully, cautiously touching his shoulder. "Feeling better?"
Harry nodded. "Everybody keeps asking me that."
Sirius frowned. "Well, if you didn't get into so much trouble, maybe we won't."
"You make it sound like I wanted trouble," Harry grumbled resentfully.
Harry instantly regretted those words when Sirius fell silently thoughtful, a distracted hollowness in his expression. James watched the two with concern, but as the silence settled through the room heavily, he could no longer contain his exasperation.
Perhaps it was to make up the years of childhood lost to his friend and shatter the reserve in his son's character, but without a word of warning, he gripped the edge of a rather padded pillow and flung it at his friend's head.
"Do the two of you ever loosen up?" James grumbled irritably as he reached for another cushion.
For a brief moment, Sirius only blinked back at him in surprise. But at the second blow, he caught on instantly, stopping the fluff ball in mid air and using it to slam James repeatedly on the head. Laughing, James scrambled to safety, pushing his glasses more securely on his face as he reached for another object of war. The bed bounced and creaked under their weight; Sirius almost knocked his head against the ceiling several times as he ran on the surface. Soon, the two grown men were running around the room, feathers tangled in their hair as they flung pillows across the room.
Harry gaped as he watched the two, but quickly shut his mouth when he came close to swallowing a feather. It had been hard to imagine Sirius as once being young before, but now Harry could hardly imagine he had ever grown old. James and Sirius were worse than him and Ron; he never had a pillow fight with his best friend.
Harry smiled despite himself; the world of the dead seemed far better than the world of the living. Who cared if the Death Eaters were still after him. Who cared if snakes haunted all his dreams. If only he could live this life with his parents, Harry would be satisfied. But Harry dreaded what would happen when Sirius left.
James paused, bending to retrieve his glasses. Sirius kindly held off his next onslaught as he waited for his friend to regain his sight.
"Harry, quick, attack him!" Sirius turned to Harry eagerly.
"Hey, are you trying to turn my own son against me?" James grumbled, still shuffling around for his glasses on the uneven surface of the sofa. "Hit Sirius, Harry!"
Harry unconsciously shrank back, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks.
"I'll just sit here and watch," he said quickly.
Sirius looked visibly disappointed; James turned to him worriedly, glasses finally secure in his hand. But in a flash, his godfather had bounded to his side, dragging Harry from the bed, heedless of Harry's protests.
"Harry's on my side!" Sirius said, throwing him over his shoulder triumphantly. "Prepare to lose, James!"
Sirius' words triggered a dim memory that nagged in the recesses of his mind. Harry shuddered. But neither adults seemed to notice. James responded with a mumble under his breath that Harry couldn't catch, and Sirius laughed.
A soft wack on the head with something soft and poofy brought him back to earth. Harry blinked in surprise when he was dumped on the sofa, a cushion placed in his hands. All worries were driven out of his mind when he struggled to get out of the way of flying pillows between his father and godfather, laughter rising in his throat. The dream was long forgotten in the dim recesses of his mind. It was as if all the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders, and he was truly a child. Harry would have given anything to preserve that moment.
*
This is the worst chapter that has ever graced anyone's computer screen. I was sorely tempted to delete it, I wonder why I didn't. Ack… it's… a nightmare! I hate this chapter, in fact, I think this chapter is the reason why I hated the whole second part of my story. I don't know what's wrong with it either, something just doesn't flow. *wails*
An interlude chapter after a rather tense chapter. Sorry about the waste of plot space though. James' conversation with Harry is pretty pointless in this part, but plays a larger role in Playing Life (the sequel, if it's ever going to be completed *sigh*)
This chapter was long until I edited it. It lost about half a page of junk. Ok. I definitely lose points for originality in this chapter. It was going to be deleted all together, but well… I couldn't. It was too tempting. That's why its so short, it didn't fit anywhere else. This shortness gets made up for in the later chapters!
Chapter twenty-five - cheating a reunion
"Harry."
A voice, muffled and distant, stirred him from the depths of sleep. Harry blinked groggily, surprised and embarrassed to discover that he had fallen asleep on Sirius' shoulder with his glasses pressing into the side of his temple. He sat up, nursing a bruised ear.
"She's coming," James said excitedly.
Harry was awake in an instant, sitting up with a jerk.
"Mum's here?" Harry squeaked. His voice sounded like someone had scraped his throat with sandpaper.
James nodded, looking almost as excited to see his wife as Harry his mother for the first time. Only he expressed it by throwing half his body out the window and Harry by becoming pale and rigid. He grasped Sirius' hand securely, and his godfather gave him a reassuring squeeze.
There was a loud bang as if someone had just thrown open the door and loud footsteps pounding down the hall. Without warning, a tall, fiery redhead rushed into the room, frighteningly reminiscent of Ginny as she rushed downstairs in the Burrow. He could feel Sirius stiffen, the hand around his tightening painfully. Harry watched the woman who defended him as an infant with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.
Lily was stunning with her eternally youthful face. Her red hair, however disheveled, looked nothing like Aunt Petunia's dirty blond; it was a shade of red orange that just screamed for attention. Her emerald green eyes scanned the room almost frantically, before pausing at the battered sofa.
"Oh my god, Sirius?" Lily gasped, her face paling. She had already expected his presence, but even so, she could not contain her shock at finally seeing her long absent friend. "And James! Wait… no," Lily paled even more when she noticed her husband beside the window. "Harry?"
After so many years of dreaming, Harry was surprised to find himself almost fearful. He shrank back against the couch, clutching Sirius' hand in a death grip.
But Lily didn't seem to notice. "Harry," she choked out, approaching slowly on unsteady legs. With one fluid motion, she had him enveloped in a tight embrace. "Harry, you have no idea how much we missed you! I wished I could see you for so long…," Lily's words broke on a sob as she pulled her son closer.
Harry could only stare back, dazed. "Mum?" he whispered hesitantly.
Lily nodded as she pulled away, looking at Harry carefully. "Oh my god, you look so much like James! You must have given the staff a heart attack when you appeared."
"I don't remember," Harry admitted timidly. "I was too distracted by the sorting."
Lily nodded, smiling despite the tears brimming in her eyes.
"You know?" Harry suddenly asked, noting how her emerald eyes shimmered with regret and sadness each time she watched at him.
Lily nodded, "Cedric told me." She smiled wider, probably trying to relieve the tautness in her son's stature. "If I started wailing and told you how proud I am of you, I'd fit into the role of the perfect stereotypical mother, so I'm not going to do that. I bet James already pestered you enough about it."
James made a sound of protest, and Harry couldn't help but smile. His parents were still as playful and teasing as ever. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that Lily was nothing like Petunia, her carefree personality reminding him a lot of a rather mellowed James.
"Thank you," Harry whispered, his voice trembling.
Lily watched him searchingly. "What for?"
"The protection you left me," Harry whispered shakily, trying hard to control the blurriness in his eyes.
If it wasn't for that, I would have died long ago. Harry added silently in his mind, but he held it back, afraid the next words would betray him entirely.
"You're my son! Of course I wanted to protect you. I wish I could have done more…" Lily trailed off, brushing her fingers across the curse scar with an unreadable expression.
Harry shook his head angrily. "No. It's alright."
Lily made a soft gasp, choking him with another hug. Harry was stiff at first, the motherly affection completely foreign to him. But Lily didn't seem to notice, or didn't seem to mind. She just rested her head against her son's bony shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. It had been a shock to see her son so different, when the last time she remembered him was thirteen years ago. The change from a spoiled one year-old to a shy and timid fourteen year-old was such a rough transition. Lily couldn't hide a pang of pain each time she thought about what he must have gone through.
"And what happened to you, Padfoot?" Lily pulled away and rounded on her old friend suddenly. Sirius jumped, looking almost afraid of Lily's wrath. "I heard what happened to you, but you had a whole week to build up fat before you came. You're setting a bad example for Harry!"
Sirius fidgeted nervously. "Harry isn't that young…"
"Sirius!"
"Okay! I promise I'll eat when I get back!" Sirius said quickly.
"And Moony's a good cook too," Lily added, poking at a bony wrist disapprovingly. "You should take advantage of it." She paused to examine Sirius' face, her stern expression lost. Suddenly, she gave a shuddering gasp and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing loudly. "I can't believe all that happened to you! I'm so sorry…"
Sirius returned the embrace, shaking his head angrily. "No, that's…"
"I know how you are, Padfoot," Lily interrupted, face still buried in his shirt. "I knew you were going to blame yourself. If you say that our death was your fault, I'm going to slap you."
"I deserve it… ow!" Sirius choked when Lily's arm tightened dangerously around his neck.
Lily smiled sadly as she pulled away, but her face soon sobered when she traced the dark rings around his eyes and the sunken cheeks.
"Harry's death hit you hard, didn't it?" she said softly.
Sirius looked away, unable to meet her inquiring gaze. Lily smiled again, turning her softened gaze to her son.
"You know, I always imagined Sirius to be the most lenient godfather, but I highly doubt that now. Do you think Sirius will pester you like an old lady when you get back, Harry?"
Sirius looked ready to protest, but clicked his jaw shut with an audible click. Harry's throat constricted painfully, words caught in his mouth. At every mention of his prospects for return, Harry would feel a sharp stab of guilt of those words that echoed in his mind. The snake's words would return to him, louder than ever, telling him that he had lost to an invisible Dark Lord that would slowly destroy and consume him. Harry tried his hardest to ignore it, but they always came to haunt him when he was alone.
But with the people that he loved, those doubts always faded as soon as they came.
Harry smiled at he watched his mother lean over to give Sirius a playful slap. James laughed, giving his son's shoulder a tight squeeze. It took only a day of re-acquaintance before the three were close friends again. It was like they had never died. This was the life that they should have had. He only wished that Remus was here, and everything would have been perfect.
It was getting harder and harder to leave.
"You changed, Sirius," Lily said sadly. She examined his bony figure and the haunted eyes. "You're more mature than James now."
"Hey!" James cried indignantly.
Somehow, Harry realized, they managed to turn every single serious statement into a joke.
Sirius snorted. "Even Harry's more mature than James… ow!"
James had stood up, almost squashing Harry to give Sirius a sharp whack on the head. Fifth time that afternoon, Harry thought as he grinned.
"Is something wrong? You're awfully quiet, Harry," Lily said softly, her emerald eyes filled with concern.
Harry smiled, shaking his head. "Everything's perfect."
Lily gave him a quizzical look, but didn't question him further.
"Maybe you and Harry should consider switching places… ow! Okay, I'll be quiet!" Sirius said, jumping out of his seat to dodge another blow. But the moment James sat back down, the mischievous glint in his eye returned full force. "See, look how Harry's just sitting there calm and composed, but then look and Prongs!"
Harry shrank under both James and Sirius' gaze, trying to sink under the table. It had been fun watching the two bicker, but when they included him, it became a lot more embarrassing. It felt like he was caught between some sort of sibling rivalry.
James caught him before he slid any further down his seat, swinging a possessive arm over his shoulder. "I don't think my son agrees, do you Harry?"
Harry gulped when James and Sirius glared over his head heatedly.
"I take back what I said about you being more mature, Sirius," Lily grumbled, giving both men reproachful glares. "Geez, you two are like big babies. How does Remus manage?"
Sirius laughed sheepishly, but a shadow passed over his face. "Moony thought I finally went insane a couple of days ago."
"Finally?" James bore an incredulous expression.
Harry froze at the memory of his professor, pale and haggard beside Sirius' bed. Those words. That pleading tone of his words. It made sense.
"Did he really think you were insane?" Harry asked softly.
James and Lily sobered at his words, and Harry inwardly scolded himself. He seemed to shatter every carefree atmosphere by just speaking.
Sirius looked at Harry with an unreadable expression for some time before answering. But even then, his words were slow and carefully chosen, as if he was afraid of upsetting him. "Almost. Dumbledore came to my rescue though," he sighed, sitting back down heavily. "I was that close," Sirius murmured, bringing his thumb and index finger together to prove his point. "That close to thinking you were a dream of some sort. If you hadn't dragged me under the covers and hauled your body across the room, I would never have suspected."
Sirius drew a deep breath, averting his eyes quickly. He looked shaken at the memory, his face had lost its color. Compulsively, Harry stood up, pulling away from his mother's lose embrace and reached for Sirius' hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was an uncomfortable position, with the table that stood between them grinding into his stomach; he had to kneel on his chair to reach his hand. But Sirius didn't seem to notice. He stood up, pulling Harry into a hug that almost dragged him over the table, crushing his godson's head against the coarse robes.
"Don't you ever do that again," Sirius whispered angrily.
Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He couldn't even imagine what those days were like for him. But Harry had never thought he was that important to his godfather. Harry hid his face, feeling the mistiness that clouded his eyes. If Sirius and Remus had taken it that hard, then what about Ron and Hermione?
"I'm sorry," Harry finally choked out. "I'm sorry I made everyone so miserable."
A gentle hand smoothed out his hair reassuringly, but Harry couldn't take comfort in it. He had meant to help everyone. He had meant it as a favor, to save them by leaving them. But it seemed that he always caused pain and misery everywhere he went! Harry bit his lip, twisting the edge of the table cloth.
Lily couldn't hide a smile at the bond that the godfather and godson shared. James watched Sirius thoughtfully, drawing a breath to say words that never passed his throat. He found it hard to comfort his friend on something he couldn't understand, and slightly envious of the bond that the godfather and godson shared.
A soft tingling in the back of Harry mind made him flinch. Harry pulled away, looking around in surprise, but Sirius didn't seem to notice. Harry frowned; the light pressure was still there, reminding him oddly of the protection wards he set off at the graveyard. He concentrated on it slowly.
"Someone's coming."
*
Lily is not as well characterized as James. Is she believable? Is she just bad? Tell me what you think!
Chapter twenty-six - cheating disillusionment
Harry paused the moment those words left his mouth, baffled. He didn't know how he knew, he just seemed to, almost as if the knowledge was buried within him.
Lily, James and Sirius looked at him sharply in astonishment.
"What?" Sirius whispered, pulling away as Harry climbed back into his seat. "How do you know?"
"There was thing tingling, kind of like what happens when you step into some protection wards," Harry explained slowly. "Did you feel it?"
A sharp rap on the front door saved anyone from answering. James exchanged confused glances with Sirius and Lily before leaving the small living room. There was a tense silence. Harry strained to hear the visitor down the hall, trying to ignore the questioning look that Sirius was giving him.
There was a soft whisper of indistinguishable voices, followed by footsteps that echoed down the hall.
James stepped in slowly, "Harry, there's someone who wants to see you."
The brown haired, brown eyed man that followed bore a face that Harry would recognize anywhere.
"Thomas! This is a surprise," Lily said as she strode forward in greeting.
Sirius tore her back harshly; from his narrowed glare and flushed face, it was obvious he recognized him as well.
"Tom Riddle!" Harry hissed, reaching for the wand in his shirt pocket.
Lily gasped and James placed himself in front of his son protectively.
The man's stern face turned to him with a haughtiness that made Harry's stomach churn in disgust. "I wish you'd make up your mind, Harry Potter."
Harry stared back in bewilderment. "What are you taking about?"
The man sighed impatiently. "First you call me, now you don't want to see me. It's becoming irritating."
"I don't know what you're taking about. I never wanted to see you!" Harry shot back angrily.
The corner of Riddle's mouth twitched into an all too familiar smirk. "Even with that, you're still clueless. I wonder how you managed to escape him so many times," he shook his head, waving a hand carelessly. "You called me when you wanted to live, boy. You left me when you wanted to die."
Harry's heart sank; a ton of ice settled in his stomach. He could feel his face paling as he spoke. "You're… you're the Dark Lord."
Lily made a small sound of disbelief. But when Riddle smiled, a slow, sneering smile that cut across his face with frightful familiarity, the room fell into a fitful silence. For a long moment, not even soft breathing could be heard.
Abruptly, Sirius jerked his arm back with a snarl, looking ready to smash Riddle's face in with his bare hands but Lily firmly held him back.
Riddle barely acknowledged him, eyes fixed on Harry unblinkingly. "The snake found you then."
Harry froze, the memory of those words coming to him in a haze.
You have already lost…
You have nothing left to lose…
"That…" Harry choked out, taking a small step back. "That wasn't a dream?"
Sirius jerked around to face him, eyes wide with an emotion akin to disappointment. But Harry couldn't bring himself to face his godfather or his father for keeping such a secret so deeply hidden.
"I'm amazed at your foolishness, boy," Riddle said, holding Harry's gaze unflinchingly. "I didn't realize that until after I gave you the warning in a dream, telling you of my victory, telling you that I was the one who had the rest of you."
"What?!" Sirius snarled.
"You told no one," Riddle continued, not even sparing a glance Sirius' way. "for reasons of your own."
Sirius held his tongue, but his entire body trembled with suppressed anger. James had gone deathly pale; Harry was sure his grip was bruising. Lily's eyes were wide, a hand at her mouth in shock.
"You're going to die soon, The-Boy-Who-Lived," Riddle spat out the name bitterly. "You are going to be trapped forever."
Sirius paled, stumbling slightly on unsteady feet. James suddenly broke at those words. He wrapped an arm around Harry, crushing him against his chest, turning a wand at Riddle.
"Let Harry go," James hissed, his wand hand shaking.
Riddle seemed unfazed, he acknowledged only Harry himself. But Harry's mind was still reeling in shock. Sirius will be gone soon, he'll never see his godfather again. Or Ron. Or Hermione. Despite the reassuring thoughts of finally being able to be with his parents, Harry couldn't hold back a pang of regret.
But Harry couldn't let that show with Riddle calmly scrutinize him. Harry forced himself to return Tom's gaze firmly, maybe even a bit obstinately. Instinctively, he straightened, extracting himself from James's so that he no longer stood in his father's protection.
"I want it back," Harry said firmly. His voice was unwavering; it rang clear in the small room. "I want what you've taken from me back."
Thomas' thin lips twitched again, and soon, high pitched laughter was echoing across the walls. James grasped Harry's arm, making the motion of dragging him back, but Harry caught his hand, giving it a small squeeze. James looked at him sharply, but Harry shook his head, taking a step towards his archenemy's father. He drew his wand with a steady hand, pointing it at the taller man.
"You think you can kill me?" Riddle said. The gleam in his eye mirrored that of his son's almost perfectly. "I don't think so, Harry Potter. You can't make me return it to you by force. I have to give it to you willingly."
"What?"
"Oh Harry, Harry, Harry," Riddle shook his head, eyes twinkling with amusement. "You gave yourself willingly. I must give it back to you the same way.
Harry swallowed, mouth going dry. "What… what do you want?"
"A proof of your worthiness," Riddle said as he took long strides forward. James followed suit, wand drawn warningly, but Riddle only watched him with contempt. He offered Harry a smooth, youthful hand. "Come, lets discuss this elsewhere."
"Harry's not going anywhere," James growled out.
"Well then, he can stay dead," Riddle said smoothly. "I'm certainly not going to give him a second chance."
James scowled in anger, but said nothing. Riddle smiled, blending low to whisper in Harry's ear.
"Don't you know? Impartial spirits don't stay impartial that long. If you don't return soon, you'll never be able to again. I'm surprised you defied that for so long. Even after ten days of death, you managed to keep those doors of life open," Riddle sneered, standing up again and flicking an invisible speck of lint from his flawless robes. "What do you say, Harry?"
Harry paled, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.
A brittle silence settled in the room, with Lily wide eyed, watching her son worriedly, James' hand trembling with suppressed fury, and Sirius straining under Lily's death grip.
Harry swallowed nervously. It was his only chance; besides, there was nothing to lose. It was the one chance he had to see Ron and Hermione again, the one chance he had against Voldemort. But what about his parents?
He glanced at his father, but James' blatant concern and apprehension for him made him look down again. His brown eyes were openly apologizing, guilty for the times he couldn't be there, and would never be there. His mother looked torn for having to let go her newly found son, but they bore a hard determination. His parents didn't want him to die, Harry realized. But living would mean losing them again.
But dying would mean losing everyone he knew. And how would Sirius manage? Harry turned to his godfather, taking in the gaunt and pale features. Harry had seen the toll his death took on him. He could hardly imagine the pain everyone else was going through. Sirius returned the gaze searchingly, as if trying to read his thoughts. Harry gave him a small smile.
"I'm sorry," he told him. For making you miserable. For making everyone sad. If I fail, please go on your life without me.
Taking a deep breath, he grasped the outstretched hand. Instantly, he shivered. The hand was like ice that spread cold water through his veins. Wind rushed into the room, whipping at his clothes and knocking plates to the floor. Distantly, he could hear the voices of crying out to him. He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. The floor beneath him was soft and wet. It pulled at his leg like collagulated mud. Harry looked down and his stomach all but disappeared.
It was the marsh.
*
I know Lily didn't play a large part in the story, but I really have a hard time balancing the duties of a mother and father. Putting them together would be too much, and introducing them one at a time would be too tedious.
This chapter was way too crowded, but if I divided it, it would have been too short. Originally, the last bit of conversation was somewhere else… but then I realized it was too close to the beginning of the story. Oh well.
a/n I have come to the realization that never in this lifetime am I ever going to finish editing it. So, as promised (Allocin, I have not forgotten!!) in a previous agreement, if I cannot revise, I will post the entire story in a couple big hunks as it is and then find a tub and drown.
Warning: these are very, very rough drafts! I wrote these back in May so the style's very different. *sigh*
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter twenty-two - cheating a misfortune
"Sirius!!"
Sirius jerked straight up from the grass when Harry's voice cut through the clearing. Instinctively, he reached for his wand, the years as a fugitive had honed his responses. Harry was running towards them, looking awkward and close to tripping in his borrowed clothes.
"Sirius, they know! The Death Eaters… they know we're here. We have to leave right now!"
Beside him, James stiffened. Harry's reaction had caught him completely off guard, having never been acquainted with his son's uncanny perceptions and odd revelations.
"They intercepted one of our owls to Mum yesterday, and they're coming here as we speak," Harry seemed amazingly calm for someone convinced of danger. "We have to leave right now! They coming."
"Harry, are you sure about this?" James asked sharply, sparing Sirius a few questioning glances.
Harry nodded as he drew several breaths. He seemed unusually winded after such a short run, but he was still weary from the injuries two days before. But when he spoke, his tone was firm and unwavering. "I'm sure. It can't be lying, that would make no sense. None of the death eaters can speak with…" Abruptly, Harry broke off, paling visibly. He turned to Sirius with an oddly desperate expression.
"What is it?" Sirius asked worriedly.
Harry chewed his lip, but didn't speak for a long minute.
There was a soft hiss. Harry startled in surprise, but Sirius barely heard the noise. A snake slithered through the grass at Harry's feet, its tongue flicking against his cloak. The boy took several steps back almost fearfully, and Sirius' expression darkened in understanding.
"James, we have to go," he whispered.
When Sirius said now, he meant it. Seeing his friend's expression, James caught onto the gravity of the situation instantly. He asked no questions as he packet their few possessions, plotting the quickest way to intercept Lily in their travels. Harry found himself gasping for breath as he half jogged half walked after the two taller men, a good foot or so taller than him, trying to keep from tripping over his long traveling cloak.
Two days was not nearly enough to recover from his previous injuries, but even so, Harry was forced to admit the ability to instantly regenerate for the dead was much more helpful than spending a week in the hospital wing. Sirius and James glanced around nervously as they walked, face hidden in dark hoods that made Harry shiver every time he glanced at them. They looked too much like the Death Eaters they were evading for his liking.
At a fallen log, snagged his foot and threw Harry against the grass hard. He had seen it, but he couldn't seem to find the strength to drag his leg over. James helped him up quickly, concerned when Harry leaned against him heavily, breath coming in short gasps.
"Sirius, we should take a break. Harry's not going to hold out much longer."
Harry shook his head quickly, leaning against a tree to catch his breath. He was eager to see his mother, and delaying them would be the last thing he wanted. "I'll be okay."
Sirius was doubtful. He had learned long ago not to trust Harry's word when it came to matters like this. "Harry, stop lying. You look ghastly. James, can we spare a few minutes?"
"I don't know. I thought I heard footsteps a few moments ago, but I could be imagining it," James said softly, scanning the area quickly. The trio held their breaths for a second, listening intently. Dead silence met their ears; not even a bird song shattered the air, no rustle of the wind. James frowned. "Something's not right. Let's get out of here. Sorry Harry, but you'll have to deal."
Harry nodded, straightening and forcing his legs to stay steady. He was surprised when James grabbed him around the waist and lifted him easily. Instinctively, he squirmed in the hold, feeling awkward. He had never been held like that even as a boy, or if he had, he certainly couldn't remember it. He was used by such an open display of affection, considering the only time Sirius or James held him was when he was unconscious. But James held him still.
"You don't seriously want to walk," he murmured, staring at his son pointedly.
"N… No, it's just that…," Harry stammered, but hesitant to voice his thoughts. "Aren't I heavy?" he finally asked, leaning stiffly against James' shoulder.
"No, I'd be happier if you were," James said, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. Suddenly, he smiled, "Oh, I understand. You're too old for this stuff, right?"
Harry flushed in even more humiliation. "No! I was just saying…"
"James," Sirius glared at James warningly, saving Harry from a hasty explanation. "I don't think the Dursleys carried him around when he was a child. Cut the kid some slack, okay?"
Harry was even more uneasy after Sirius' words. He turned away, looking anywhere but Sirius and James' face. James sighed, throwing Sirius a rather exasperated glare. But his eyes had softened considerably, and his arm around Harry tightened.
"You take things too seriously, Harry. I was only joking," James said gently
Sirius grunted, looking resentful. "I doubt those sorry excuse for muggles joked around with Harry either. Hell, I doubt they spent any more attention necessary to keep Harry alive."
James frowned, a surge of bitterness through him at the mention of Harry's relatives. A soft crunch shattered the thoughts in James' mind. He stilled, craning his neck over Sirius' shoulder to scan the brightly lit path. Distinctively, he could see a shadow withdraw back behind a thick trunk.
"There's someone behind us."
James' words seemed like the death toll. The instant those words left his mouth. Black cloaks descended upon them from all sides, streaming out behind thick trunks, low bushes, every angle imaginable. They seemed to have been expecting them, lying in wait for their final arrival. Sirius cursed under his breath, and both men simultaneously stepped in front, blocking Harry from view. But the effort was futile.
"There he is!" a masked man pointed at Harry with blackened fingers. James instinctively pulled Harry closer. "Once we have him, we can avenge ourselves!"
Harry's mind clicked in recognition.
"That man… he was at the mountains!" Harry whispered. James' eyes narrowed, gripping Harry's arm tightly.
There was uneasy shifting between the figures, the action disturbingly reminiscent of the time when Harry transfigured Voldemort back into Riddle. That was when Harry realized, they didn't trust him. They didn't follow the masked man.
"You mean, you can avenge yourself!" Harry shot back angrily as he pulled from his father's protection. He was surprised at his own outburst, but he couldn't seem to restrain himself. "You're too afraid of coming after me yourself, so you get everyone else to help you!"
Distantly, he could feel James' grasp tense painfully, trying to pull him back, but Harry resisted.
"In case you fail, you won't be the only one, right?" Harry continued, glaring at him angrily. "You'll drag them all down with you!"
The tension between the cloaked men was almost tangible. The stranger made a low growl in his throat, but Harry forced himself to meet his shielded gaze unflinchingly. Then, slowly, the man reached up to his face, peeling away the skull-like film over his face. Dull black eyes met his, shallow and sunken in a swallow face. If it hadn't been those lifeless eyes, than man would have looked commonplace and easily overlooked. Harry blinked back, unable to identify the face.
"You don't recognize me, do you?" the man said, malice lacing his voice. "Perhaps the name would help?"
Harry gritted his teeth, reluctant to play the game. But despite the rather grim situation, Harry was amazed at the numbness that he felt; the cloaked men didn't intimidate him anymore. They were outnumbered, a good ten or twenty were all pressed and weaved between trees. But perhaps it was the knowledge of him unable to die, or perhaps it was the strange sense that seemed to exude from them. Harry had an idea they weren't very powerful wizards. They lacked the presence of Dumbledore and Voldemort, and didn't leave the same effect.
"I don't know what your name is," Harry said quietly.
With a snarl, the man raised his wand, his entire body trembling whether with hate or fear he did not know. "You are the one who killed me, you fool! You don't deserve to even be here! You deserve to suffer!"
Harry stumbled in shock, but James held him still. "What? I don't know what you're talking…"
"Liar! You were there that day, when Master tried to kill you. You deliberately led him to me!"
The words of denial rose in the back of Harry's throat, but a memory returned full force and dashed it before it even came. Of Voldemort, seething from the boggart curse. Of him, dodging the avada kedavra. Of a Death Eater stiffening under a stray impact and falling lifelessly to the floor. Harry's blood suddenly became ice in his veins, his body numb.
"That was you?" Harry whispered, words much calmer than he felt or looked.
James glanced at Harry sharply in surprise.
"I was just trying to get out of the way, I had no idea…"
"Shut up!" the man shrieked, raising his wand.
The man growled, throwing a string of hexes in his direction. Harry broke from his daze to dive out of the way, but James tore in the other direction, hand still glued to his son's shoulder. He would have fallen right into the curses' path if Sirius hadn't latched onto his other arm and dragged him forward.
"Quick, Sirius, take Harry and run. I'll hold them off!" James hissed. With a flick of his wand, a thin film of gold rose around them, absorbing a couple of weak spells.
"No, I can't do that!" Sirius shot back. He was preoccupied as he disarmed a few unsuspecting Death Eaters with a carefully aimed curse.
"At least get Harry out of here!" James shoved Harry into his godfather's arms with a force that made them both stumble.
Sirius hesitated, looking torn between leaving his best friend and saving his godson. The barrier flickered and died, cracking and splintering under a deadly curse. James was momentarily distracted by raising another barrier charm, hoping to buy enough time for Sirius to leave. But Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation. It was happening all over again: his parents' death to protect him, Sirius' sacrifice for him. With a burst of rashness and anger, Harry tore himself from Sirius' grasp.
"Harry!"
Sirius reached out to drag his godson back, but a stray curse caught his outstretched arm and left a gaping cut. He drew back with a hiss of pain. The enemies, sensing a weakness, rained curses at him from all sides. Sirius blocked them and countered them distractedly, eyes scanning for Harry through the black cloaks.
Once the barrier had crumbled, curses seemed to rain from the sky. Harry blindly avoided a few stunning spells that came his way. He forced his mind to focus, trying to think despite the onslaught. Harry couldn't help but feel a flicker of guilt. The men were after him; that man hated them because Harry had killed him. He was the guilty one! James and Sirius were dragged into this unfairly. Perhaps if he led them away. Led them away…
But he was tired, his legs were shaking under his weight and his muscles felt like water. His breath already came in short gasps and sweat was coating his skin. The weariness in his body was weighing him down, and he barely caught himself from falling several times.
It was impossible, Harry realized with a sinking heart. There were too many, they were too outnumbered, they weren't going to win. The cloaked men hardly seemed to notice him at all; they swarmed to James and Sirius and locked them into a tight corner. Not even the unmasked stranger seemed to target him; he pointed his wand yelling out unforgivables at every breath.
A movement caught his attention. Harry's stomach twisted when he noticed the man direct his wand towards Sirius, sidetracked by a thick of enemies that had cornered James and was trying to free his friend.
"Sirius! Watch out!" Harry shouted.
Sirius snapped into attention at Harry's warning, instinctively ducking out of the way. Behind him, a masked man shrieked in pain, the skin on his hands scalding as if struck with boiling water, his arms twisting in inhuman positions. Sirius seemed unfazed by the figure screaming behind him, deftly flinging a few Death Eaters out of his way with a flick of his wand. Even after these years, none of his auror training had left him.
"Sirius, go help Harry! Don't worry about me." James shouted brokenly.
Sirius hesitated only for an instant. He nodded, waving his wand to stun a few unsuspecting men, struggling to get to his godson. Harry was about to raise his wand to help when a force slammed into his back, leaving fire in its wake, flinging him to the ground.
Sirius froze when the screams rang through the thicket. But the screams soon sank into muffled cries, sounding as if he was trying to swallow the angry pain that rose in his throat. Harry seemed to be making a conscious effort to suppress the agony of the cruciatus curse even as he writhed on the floor. His legs were drawn against his chest, his hands were clenched, clawing the soft earth as the curse ate into his body. His face was contorted with pain, his eyes squeezed shut behind his glasses.
"Stop!" Sirius shouted, pointing his wand with a hand that shook with anger.
James rushed from behind him, reaching for the boy who had gone still on the grass. But invisible hands dragged Harry when James was only inches from him, pulling him into the air and hanging him like a mockery of a broken puppet. All strength seemed to have gone, Harry's head was slumped, his limbs lifeless, his entire body seemed to be hung from his wand arm. Sirius' stomach churned when the man stepped behind the dangling body, pointing the wand at Harry's exposed throat.
"You…," Sirius muttered a curse. His eyes were narrowed and his fists clenched. He looked ready to tear the enemy from limb to limb. The Death Eaters beside them had gone eerily still.
Harry made a small grunt of pain, grasping his shoulder weakly. "Let go!" he choked out. He squirmed in the grasp, struggling to put some weight on the ground. To have his entire body suspended in air by an injured limb was enough to bring black spots to his vision and dizziness to his head.
The man only sneered with sickening pride.
Sirius could feel anger breaking in his body and streaming through his blood. He jumped at the man, wand forgotten, but James dragged him back quickly. James was trembling with rage, the color gone from his face and a fire sparking in his eyes.
"Let him go right now, or I swear I will…," Sirius hissed, fighting James' hold.
"What do you want?" James asked carefully.
Harry's head snapped up, eyes wide with terror. But the stranger only smiled.
"He's right. You are terribly predicable. You sound just like your son before he died."
"What do you want?!" James shouted. The anger was burning, begging to be released. His wand was aching to throw a deadly curse at the stranger.
"Put your wands down."
*
Okay, I think I'm too mean to Harry. He gets hurt far too often. I'm so sorry!!
This was a scene later spliced into the story.
Chapter twenty-three - cheating a voice
"No…," Harry gasped as he struggled against the strings that seemed to entangle his arm and suspend him in the air.
Don't listen to him! He tried to say, but the flames that ate at his shoulder choked it back.
With his collarbone so recently shattered, the pressure felt as if his bones was being ripped away piece by piece. He looked pleadingly at his father, but James seemed to misinterpret his watery gaze, clouded with pain.
James nodded, eyes still fixed on his son as he lowered his wand. But one glance at Sirius told him that he had understood. Sirius stared at him, regret and some apology etched into his face. With a firm, unflinching stare, he followed James' movement.
The action seemed to fuel Harry's desperation. All the pain was forgotten as he twisted angrily. "No! Don't do it! Stop, get out of here. Forget about me!" Harry shouted.
A sharp pain cut his words short. The force of the slap tore at his joint, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. Harry choked, tasting blood in his mouth. But the anger at the injustice of it all made him rash. Harry reached blindly for the man's wand, but the elevated position placed him at a different height. Harry was surprised to find a handful of coarse hair in his grasp. But without a second thought, Harry clutched at the short brown hair and pulled it as hard as his weakened body would allow.
There was an angry hiss. Perhaps it was the stranger's shock and surprise, Harry wasn't sure, but the force that held his arm snapped and Harry went tumbling to the floor. All the strength that sustained him before was gone in a second, he couldn't even bring himself to turn and face his enemy. It was as if the imperious curse was back, enveloping him in a thick cocoon. All Harry wanted to do was lie still on the cool, inviting grass.
A sharp kick to the side of his ribs brought him out of his daze. Harry cried out in protest, squirming away to wrap a protective arm around his side.
"Stop! I'll put down my wand!" James said quickly.
"No!" Harry gritted out, struggling to stand. A second kick knocked the wind from his lungs and he sank back to the floor. A heel of the leather boot met his hand that gripped his wand solidly; there was a distinct crack as the fragile bones of his wrist gave away. Harry screamed when the lightening ripped through his arm.
Harry could barely hear the angry shouts that rang through the thicket. He could pick out the voice of James, yelling hexes and curses as he fought his way through the men. Sirius' words were strained and distracted. But one voice stood out distinctly in the mix of sounds.
'Little boy… little boy… foolish little boy. The Dark Lord laughs at you.'
The hair on the back of his neck prickled in warning. He knew that voice. Harry cracked open his eyes wearily, trying to pick out the shiny scales in the low grass.
'Shut up! Go away! Why can't you just let us be?' Harry choked out desperately. He barely noticed James and Sirius jerk around to face him, unnerved by the soft inhuman hissing. A shudder ran through the faceless men. The unmasked man stilled, taking a step back in disbelief.
A hot brand suddenly pressed itself against his scar. Harry felt as if his entire skull was being split open from the flames; long fingers were ranking over his mind, twisting and shredding his skin. He cried out, clutching at his head.
Voices came to him thickly in a cloud, voices of fear. Distantly, Harry could feel figures shifting around him uneasily.
"… parselmouth… like Master…!" a man choked out.
But it was slurred and muffled as if he had been underwater. Harry could feel something large and heavy bounding forward, the sound of canine growling echoing through the air. Then there was a rough shuffle, startled cries. Hands were on him, dragging him upward. Harry tried to fight against the stranger, but all he managed to do was squirm blindly. But as he protested, all the stress and weariness collapsed back on him. Harry slumped forward, his world a pleasant, comforting black.
It was dark. The air was heavy again his chest and the silence was like a hand, pushing him to the ground. It was as if he was at the marsh again, each foot sinking deeper and deeper into the muck.
'You lost.'
'Who are you?' Harry whispered. But instead of those words, soft hissing met his ears, barely even stirring the heavy silence that rested like a blanket across the land.
'Hardly important.'
The smooth calmness of the voice made Harry grind his teeth in irritation. It was too much like that day at the Riddle House, where Voldermort played him like a chess piece. 'What do you want?'
'Nothing you can give. You already lost.'
'What?' Harry asked, fear drawing color out of his face.
'Little boy… gave yourself willingly. Foolish, so foolish.'
'What did…' Harry swallowed, mouth suddenly going dry. 'What did I lose?"
'Yourself.'
Harry's breath caught as if a cold hand clenched his chest and squeezed the air from his lungs.
'That's not true!' Harry gasped, a shiver raking his entire body.
'Little boy, say good-bye…'
'You're lying!'
'Pathetic thing. Do you think half spirits can actually survive?'
'What?' Harry choked out.
'You're going to be like the others soon… Soon, you're going to sink into darkness like all half spirits do.'
Harry jerked awake abruptly, cold sweat coating his skin and his head pounding with pain. He felt like someone had just grabbed a hold of him and thrust him back into his body. There was a voice, a dream, a snake that whispered secrets in his ear. But they were rapidly fading away, sliding through his mind like water in his hand. Harry frowned, opening his eyes cautiously.
The room was an indistinct blur that made the incessant pounding turn into fingernails raking inside his skull. Harry groaned, quickly closing his eyes again.
A hand ran across his forehead with a cool cloth.
"Harry?"
The voice was familiar. Harry cracked an eye open, squinting against the light. There was a soft shuffle, and something cold was placed against his eyes. Harry blinked as the room came sharply into focus.
"Dad?" Harry asked softly.
James had made a remarkable transformation since the last time he had seen him. Dark rings encircled his eyes and he was pale and haggard. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days on end.
"You're finally awake," James whispered, sighing audibility in relief. "We thought you had been cursed for a moment there."
Harry stared at him blankly, "What do you mean?"
"You slept for almost two days straight. No amount of spells would wake you up," James frowned slightly, brushing a few stray hairs from Harry's eyes. "How do you feel?"
"Alright," Harry answered automatically.
Only after he spoke did he realize that was partly the truth; with his glasses, the room seemed less bright, less blinding. The pounding in his head had dulled into a low buzz. Slowly, Harry tested his limbs, amazed at how quickly the pain had left it. His right shoulder felt unnaturally warm, as if someone had cast several healing charms over the abused skin.
He was asleep for that long? Harry thought with surprise. He hadn't even slept that long after falling over the side of the cliff. Harry couldn't ignore the nagging suspicion that something was wrong.
"What happened after I was out?" Harry asked worriedly, shifting slightly to face his father, the blanket surprisingly unyielding.
"They left. Former Death Eaters were never that organized; they were pretty much shunned by all of us, I guess they all followed him because he offered hope. But those men that Voldemort killed usually died because of their incompetence. I'm hardly surprised they abandoned him," James grumbled bitterly, a flash of anger tinting his brown eyes.
"Are you sure you're alright?" James couldn't help but ask. The image of his son lying helpless on the ground as the Death Eater cruelly kicked him was burned into his mind. But the way his son reacted seemed almost as if that experience wasn't foreign to him at all. James paused, examining Harry's face carefully. "You looked like you were dreaming some minutes ago."
Harry stilled at James' words. The dream! Harry couldn't suppress a pang of panic. All the words came back in acute detail. Was it the Dark Lord that held him back, and not himself?
Harry still couldn't hide a shiver that ran down his spine. Another Dark Lord? This was too much…
"Harry, what's wrong?" James asked, breaking into Harry's thoughts.
Harry paled, turning to his father was searching eyes. James expression held nothing but concern, but Harry was reluctant to worry him. James had been so excited about having Harry finally meet his mother, he was afraid of destroying every chance at happiness. Should he tell?
"No, nothing's wrong," Harry said quickly. It had came a lot from a subconscious decision, years of lying made it seem natural to him. Harry regretted it the moment those words left his mouth, but he couldn't seem to take them back.
You're such a idiot, Harry! He shouted at himself. This could be serious!
"Is there another Dark Lord here?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"No," James said quietly, a pensive frown crossing his face. "It's just a myth. The Dark Lord was never seen. Not even Thomas has seen him, and he was the first here." Catching Harry's incredulous expression, he ruffled Harry's hair soothingly. "I've already traveled every inch of this land. There is no Dark Lord's hideout here. It's probably just a creation of everyone's obsessive fear of Voldemort. Don't worry about it. They're just lies."
Harry nodded, feeling a distant warmth of reassurance. His dream was just a pointless nightmare. Those fears were just hidden fears of his mind. But Harry couldn't hide the biting doubt with voices of the hissing still echoing in his head. he crushed it away forcibly.
It was just a dream, Harry firmly told himself. They were figments of your imagination.
But the shadow remained, colder than ever in the back of his mind.
"Harry," James words broke into his thoughts suddenly, sounding unusually serious. "About what happened back there."
Harry paled. "You heard. Did Sirius tell you before that… that I'm a parselmouth?"
"No," James inwardly frowned when he felt Harry stiffen even more beside him. "Sirius explained it to me afterwards. Harry, do you think I'll hate you just because you can speak parseltongue? I could care less if you were a werewolf. You're my son! I know you're not evil, Harry. I know you're nothing like Voldermort."
Despite those words, Harry's face fell. "The hat wanted to place me in Slytherin. It said I would do well there," Harry murmured, uneasy again. "It only placed me in Gryffindor because I didn't want to be in the same house as Malfoy. And Voldemort even said I was a lot like him… the same upbringing… brother wand cores… I even looked like him when he was young!"
It was a relief to finally get those words off his chest, but Harry couldn't bring himself to face his father's stunned face.
*
Chapter twenty-four - cheating relief
A hand turned his head gently; Harry looked at his father, somewhat fearful of his reaction. But James' seemed worried, not angry.
"Harry, if you were like him, you would have never forgiven the Dursleys. You would have never died for Sirius," James said firmly.
But that's different, Harry wanted to say. What if I learn to hate later on? What if I do become like him one day?
That had been his greatest fear since second year, when so many parallels between him and Tom Riddle were established. They were too like, too frighteningly alike. What if one day, something happened, and Harry found himself going down the same path? But it was still some amount of comfort to know that his father, the very figure that Riddle despised and was rejected by, had such faith in Harry.
Harry smiled uneasily to reassure James, trying to distract himself from those nagging fears. Instead, he scanned his surroundings, surprised when a small room with peeling plaster and cheap, whitewashed walls met his eyes. Trees peeked through the window, dusty curtains shielding only a bit of light. But the austere room was fit with the largest bed-like sofa that he ever seen, supporting the three of them with much more room to spare. The edges brushed against the walls; they were fortunate the door opened outwards. It clashed with the plain and soft colors, the red and gold of the blankets glaring back. It looked like something transfigured, by the clean, crisp sheets.
"Where are we?" Harry asked, looking around in surprise.
"The cottage. We just got here a few hours ago," James said. Catching his son's inquiring gaze, he patted the bed with a smile. "Transfigured it from an apple. This house is too small, this is the only bed room. Sirius ate the other apples, so now we only have one. And I sort of forgotten the spell for transfiguring beds." James added sheepishly.
Harry glanced around, relieved and surprised when he caught sight of Sirius in the far corner of the room. His godfather looked like he was trapped in a rather uneasy sleep as he leaned against an armrest; his brows were knotted and his breathing unsteady.
"Sirius hasn't been sleeping very much, has he?" Harry softly asked.
James' smile slipped several notches as he glanced at his friend. "No. He was really worried about you, but the injuries he had before he came here probably caught up with him. He was really tired."
Harry nodded, sinking back against sofa. His father's tone had been soft, but Harry caught a flicker in his expression that worried him.
"Dad, why do you want me to go back?" Harry suddenly blurted out.
James paused, surprised by the question. The way Harry had worded it, it almost seemed as if he was condemning his own son to a life of horror. James hesitated, searching his mind for an explanation.
"I want you to be happy," James slowly began.
"But what if I'm not happy there?" Harry asked desperately. "What if I get everybody hurt?"
James stilled at his son's words, everything clicked into place. Harry was afraid of condemning those around him by association. James was unsure of what to say; he saw so little of his son's life.
He sighed, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder, mindful of the injury. "Harry, they must be very upset already." There was a brief flicker of guilt in his emerald eyes, and James quickly dropped the topic. "You won't be happy here. You want to be with your friends. You want to be with Sirius."
Harry wasn't sure what to say. He hated the thought of losing his parents again, but he couldn't help but feel that James was right. Ron and Hermione, if they knew he chose death because he wanted to protect them… They would never forgive him.
And Sirius was like a father to him, and he dreaded to imagine life was like with someone who understood and accepted him was torn away.
He had been uneasy in James' presence, but felt perfectly safe with Sirius'. But much of that stemmed with Sirius' understanding of him; he had seen much more, been through much more with his godfather. James was a long lost parent that offered warmth and comfort, but Harry was afraid of sharing his past with him. What if James treated him differently? What if his past got in the way of his future? He always wanted his family to live as if nothing ever came between them; he didn't want them hung on his past.
Sirius was different. He was the one person that needed Harry to be anyone but himself. Ron and Hermione expected him to be trusting, Dumbledore expected him to be strong. Everyone had such expectations of him, but only Sirius understood. But Harry couldn't help but feel guilty for trending on the patience that it obviously must take for James not to grind him with questions.
Sirius' arm twitched convulsively. His godfather's face knotted with pain for a brief moment, and he turned his head away. But Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't asleep.
"Padfoot, I know you're awake," James said, poking him with his wand. "If you don't admit it, I'm going to hex you."
Sirius lifted his head so that his hair was no longer screening his face, a glint shimmering in his eyes that hid the shadows.
"You were eavesdropping!" James said accusingly, poking him harder. But much of that was a distraction for the guilt that Sirius tended to relive often.
Sirius made a face, "I was not! I just woke up a few minutes ago and was going back to sleep… Hey! Watch where you point that!" he grumbled, ducking another attack.
"I was having a nice conversation with my son too, Padfoot!" James shot back, giving Sirius a good-humored slap on the side of his head. But Sirius twisted away, holding Harry in front and hiding behind him as a safeguard. Harry flushed in embarrassment.
"Hey!" James muttered indignantly. "First, you hold Harry hostage for four hours and now you use him as a shield!"
"I am not!" Sirius snapped, quickly moving from behind him. He paused, turning to examine Harry carefully, cautiously touching his shoulder. "Feeling better?"
Harry nodded. "Everybody keeps asking me that."
Sirius frowned. "Well, if you didn't get into so much trouble, maybe we won't."
"You make it sound like I wanted trouble," Harry grumbled resentfully.
Harry instantly regretted those words when Sirius fell silently thoughtful, a distracted hollowness in his expression. James watched the two with concern, but as the silence settled through the room heavily, he could no longer contain his exasperation.
Perhaps it was to make up the years of childhood lost to his friend and shatter the reserve in his son's character, but without a word of warning, he gripped the edge of a rather padded pillow and flung it at his friend's head.
"Do the two of you ever loosen up?" James grumbled irritably as he reached for another cushion.
For a brief moment, Sirius only blinked back at him in surprise. But at the second blow, he caught on instantly, stopping the fluff ball in mid air and using it to slam James repeatedly on the head. Laughing, James scrambled to safety, pushing his glasses more securely on his face as he reached for another object of war. The bed bounced and creaked under their weight; Sirius almost knocked his head against the ceiling several times as he ran on the surface. Soon, the two grown men were running around the room, feathers tangled in their hair as they flung pillows across the room.
Harry gaped as he watched the two, but quickly shut his mouth when he came close to swallowing a feather. It had been hard to imagine Sirius as once being young before, but now Harry could hardly imagine he had ever grown old. James and Sirius were worse than him and Ron; he never had a pillow fight with his best friend.
Harry smiled despite himself; the world of the dead seemed far better than the world of the living. Who cared if the Death Eaters were still after him. Who cared if snakes haunted all his dreams. If only he could live this life with his parents, Harry would be satisfied. But Harry dreaded what would happen when Sirius left.
James paused, bending to retrieve his glasses. Sirius kindly held off his next onslaught as he waited for his friend to regain his sight.
"Harry, quick, attack him!" Sirius turned to Harry eagerly.
"Hey, are you trying to turn my own son against me?" James grumbled, still shuffling around for his glasses on the uneven surface of the sofa. "Hit Sirius, Harry!"
Harry unconsciously shrank back, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks.
"I'll just sit here and watch," he said quickly.
Sirius looked visibly disappointed; James turned to him worriedly, glasses finally secure in his hand. But in a flash, his godfather had bounded to his side, dragging Harry from the bed, heedless of Harry's protests.
"Harry's on my side!" Sirius said, throwing him over his shoulder triumphantly. "Prepare to lose, James!"
Sirius' words triggered a dim memory that nagged in the recesses of his mind. Harry shuddered. But neither adults seemed to notice. James responded with a mumble under his breath that Harry couldn't catch, and Sirius laughed.
A soft wack on the head with something soft and poofy brought him back to earth. Harry blinked in surprise when he was dumped on the sofa, a cushion placed in his hands. All worries were driven out of his mind when he struggled to get out of the way of flying pillows between his father and godfather, laughter rising in his throat. The dream was long forgotten in the dim recesses of his mind. It was as if all the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders, and he was truly a child. Harry would have given anything to preserve that moment.
*
This is the worst chapter that has ever graced anyone's computer screen. I was sorely tempted to delete it, I wonder why I didn't. Ack… it's… a nightmare! I hate this chapter, in fact, I think this chapter is the reason why I hated the whole second part of my story. I don't know what's wrong with it either, something just doesn't flow. *wails*
An interlude chapter after a rather tense chapter. Sorry about the waste of plot space though. James' conversation with Harry is pretty pointless in this part, but plays a larger role in Playing Life (the sequel, if it's ever going to be completed *sigh*)
This chapter was long until I edited it. It lost about half a page of junk. Ok. I definitely lose points for originality in this chapter. It was going to be deleted all together, but well… I couldn't. It was too tempting. That's why its so short, it didn't fit anywhere else. This shortness gets made up for in the later chapters!
Chapter twenty-five - cheating a reunion
"Harry."
A voice, muffled and distant, stirred him from the depths of sleep. Harry blinked groggily, surprised and embarrassed to discover that he had fallen asleep on Sirius' shoulder with his glasses pressing into the side of his temple. He sat up, nursing a bruised ear.
"She's coming," James said excitedly.
Harry was awake in an instant, sitting up with a jerk.
"Mum's here?" Harry squeaked. His voice sounded like someone had scraped his throat with sandpaper.
James nodded, looking almost as excited to see his wife as Harry his mother for the first time. Only he expressed it by throwing half his body out the window and Harry by becoming pale and rigid. He grasped Sirius' hand securely, and his godfather gave him a reassuring squeeze.
There was a loud bang as if someone had just thrown open the door and loud footsteps pounding down the hall. Without warning, a tall, fiery redhead rushed into the room, frighteningly reminiscent of Ginny as she rushed downstairs in the Burrow. He could feel Sirius stiffen, the hand around his tightening painfully. Harry watched the woman who defended him as an infant with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.
Lily was stunning with her eternally youthful face. Her red hair, however disheveled, looked nothing like Aunt Petunia's dirty blond; it was a shade of red orange that just screamed for attention. Her emerald green eyes scanned the room almost frantically, before pausing at the battered sofa.
"Oh my god, Sirius?" Lily gasped, her face paling. She had already expected his presence, but even so, she could not contain her shock at finally seeing her long absent friend. "And James! Wait… no," Lily paled even more when she noticed her husband beside the window. "Harry?"
After so many years of dreaming, Harry was surprised to find himself almost fearful. He shrank back against the couch, clutching Sirius' hand in a death grip.
But Lily didn't seem to notice. "Harry," she choked out, approaching slowly on unsteady legs. With one fluid motion, she had him enveloped in a tight embrace. "Harry, you have no idea how much we missed you! I wished I could see you for so long…," Lily's words broke on a sob as she pulled her son closer.
Harry could only stare back, dazed. "Mum?" he whispered hesitantly.
Lily nodded as she pulled away, looking at Harry carefully. "Oh my god, you look so much like James! You must have given the staff a heart attack when you appeared."
"I don't remember," Harry admitted timidly. "I was too distracted by the sorting."
Lily nodded, smiling despite the tears brimming in her eyes.
"You know?" Harry suddenly asked, noting how her emerald eyes shimmered with regret and sadness each time she watched at him.
Lily nodded, "Cedric told me." She smiled wider, probably trying to relieve the tautness in her son's stature. "If I started wailing and told you how proud I am of you, I'd fit into the role of the perfect stereotypical mother, so I'm not going to do that. I bet James already pestered you enough about it."
James made a sound of protest, and Harry couldn't help but smile. His parents were still as playful and teasing as ever. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that Lily was nothing like Petunia, her carefree personality reminding him a lot of a rather mellowed James.
"Thank you," Harry whispered, his voice trembling.
Lily watched him searchingly. "What for?"
"The protection you left me," Harry whispered shakily, trying hard to control the blurriness in his eyes.
If it wasn't for that, I would have died long ago. Harry added silently in his mind, but he held it back, afraid the next words would betray him entirely.
"You're my son! Of course I wanted to protect you. I wish I could have done more…" Lily trailed off, brushing her fingers across the curse scar with an unreadable expression.
Harry shook his head angrily. "No. It's alright."
Lily made a soft gasp, choking him with another hug. Harry was stiff at first, the motherly affection completely foreign to him. But Lily didn't seem to notice, or didn't seem to mind. She just rested her head against her son's bony shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. It had been a shock to see her son so different, when the last time she remembered him was thirteen years ago. The change from a spoiled one year-old to a shy and timid fourteen year-old was such a rough transition. Lily couldn't hide a pang of pain each time she thought about what he must have gone through.
"And what happened to you, Padfoot?" Lily pulled away and rounded on her old friend suddenly. Sirius jumped, looking almost afraid of Lily's wrath. "I heard what happened to you, but you had a whole week to build up fat before you came. You're setting a bad example for Harry!"
Sirius fidgeted nervously. "Harry isn't that young…"
"Sirius!"
"Okay! I promise I'll eat when I get back!" Sirius said quickly.
"And Moony's a good cook too," Lily added, poking at a bony wrist disapprovingly. "You should take advantage of it." She paused to examine Sirius' face, her stern expression lost. Suddenly, she gave a shuddering gasp and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing loudly. "I can't believe all that happened to you! I'm so sorry…"
Sirius returned the embrace, shaking his head angrily. "No, that's…"
"I know how you are, Padfoot," Lily interrupted, face still buried in his shirt. "I knew you were going to blame yourself. If you say that our death was your fault, I'm going to slap you."
"I deserve it… ow!" Sirius choked when Lily's arm tightened dangerously around his neck.
Lily smiled sadly as she pulled away, but her face soon sobered when she traced the dark rings around his eyes and the sunken cheeks.
"Harry's death hit you hard, didn't it?" she said softly.
Sirius looked away, unable to meet her inquiring gaze. Lily smiled again, turning her softened gaze to her son.
"You know, I always imagined Sirius to be the most lenient godfather, but I highly doubt that now. Do you think Sirius will pester you like an old lady when you get back, Harry?"
Sirius looked ready to protest, but clicked his jaw shut with an audible click. Harry's throat constricted painfully, words caught in his mouth. At every mention of his prospects for return, Harry would feel a sharp stab of guilt of those words that echoed in his mind. The snake's words would return to him, louder than ever, telling him that he had lost to an invisible Dark Lord that would slowly destroy and consume him. Harry tried his hardest to ignore it, but they always came to haunt him when he was alone.
But with the people that he loved, those doubts always faded as soon as they came.
Harry smiled at he watched his mother lean over to give Sirius a playful slap. James laughed, giving his son's shoulder a tight squeeze. It took only a day of re-acquaintance before the three were close friends again. It was like they had never died. This was the life that they should have had. He only wished that Remus was here, and everything would have been perfect.
It was getting harder and harder to leave.
"You changed, Sirius," Lily said sadly. She examined his bony figure and the haunted eyes. "You're more mature than James now."
"Hey!" James cried indignantly.
Somehow, Harry realized, they managed to turn every single serious statement into a joke.
Sirius snorted. "Even Harry's more mature than James… ow!"
James had stood up, almost squashing Harry to give Sirius a sharp whack on the head. Fifth time that afternoon, Harry thought as he grinned.
"Is something wrong? You're awfully quiet, Harry," Lily said softly, her emerald eyes filled with concern.
Harry smiled, shaking his head. "Everything's perfect."
Lily gave him a quizzical look, but didn't question him further.
"Maybe you and Harry should consider switching places… ow! Okay, I'll be quiet!" Sirius said, jumping out of his seat to dodge another blow. But the moment James sat back down, the mischievous glint in his eye returned full force. "See, look how Harry's just sitting there calm and composed, but then look and Prongs!"
Harry shrank under both James and Sirius' gaze, trying to sink under the table. It had been fun watching the two bicker, but when they included him, it became a lot more embarrassing. It felt like he was caught between some sort of sibling rivalry.
James caught him before he slid any further down his seat, swinging a possessive arm over his shoulder. "I don't think my son agrees, do you Harry?"
Harry gulped when James and Sirius glared over his head heatedly.
"I take back what I said about you being more mature, Sirius," Lily grumbled, giving both men reproachful glares. "Geez, you two are like big babies. How does Remus manage?"
Sirius laughed sheepishly, but a shadow passed over his face. "Moony thought I finally went insane a couple of days ago."
"Finally?" James bore an incredulous expression.
Harry froze at the memory of his professor, pale and haggard beside Sirius' bed. Those words. That pleading tone of his words. It made sense.
"Did he really think you were insane?" Harry asked softly.
James and Lily sobered at his words, and Harry inwardly scolded himself. He seemed to shatter every carefree atmosphere by just speaking.
Sirius looked at Harry with an unreadable expression for some time before answering. But even then, his words were slow and carefully chosen, as if he was afraid of upsetting him. "Almost. Dumbledore came to my rescue though," he sighed, sitting back down heavily. "I was that close," Sirius murmured, bringing his thumb and index finger together to prove his point. "That close to thinking you were a dream of some sort. If you hadn't dragged me under the covers and hauled your body across the room, I would never have suspected."
Sirius drew a deep breath, averting his eyes quickly. He looked shaken at the memory, his face had lost its color. Compulsively, Harry stood up, pulling away from his mother's lose embrace and reached for Sirius' hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was an uncomfortable position, with the table that stood between them grinding into his stomach; he had to kneel on his chair to reach his hand. But Sirius didn't seem to notice. He stood up, pulling Harry into a hug that almost dragged him over the table, crushing his godson's head against the coarse robes.
"Don't you ever do that again," Sirius whispered angrily.
Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He couldn't even imagine what those days were like for him. But Harry had never thought he was that important to his godfather. Harry hid his face, feeling the mistiness that clouded his eyes. If Sirius and Remus had taken it that hard, then what about Ron and Hermione?
"I'm sorry," Harry finally choked out. "I'm sorry I made everyone so miserable."
A gentle hand smoothed out his hair reassuringly, but Harry couldn't take comfort in it. He had meant to help everyone. He had meant it as a favor, to save them by leaving them. But it seemed that he always caused pain and misery everywhere he went! Harry bit his lip, twisting the edge of the table cloth.
Lily couldn't hide a smile at the bond that the godfather and godson shared. James watched Sirius thoughtfully, drawing a breath to say words that never passed his throat. He found it hard to comfort his friend on something he couldn't understand, and slightly envious of the bond that the godfather and godson shared.
A soft tingling in the back of Harry mind made him flinch. Harry pulled away, looking around in surprise, but Sirius didn't seem to notice. Harry frowned; the light pressure was still there, reminding him oddly of the protection wards he set off at the graveyard. He concentrated on it slowly.
"Someone's coming."
*
Lily is not as well characterized as James. Is she believable? Is she just bad? Tell me what you think!
Chapter twenty-six - cheating disillusionment
Harry paused the moment those words left his mouth, baffled. He didn't know how he knew, he just seemed to, almost as if the knowledge was buried within him.
Lily, James and Sirius looked at him sharply in astonishment.
"What?" Sirius whispered, pulling away as Harry climbed back into his seat. "How do you know?"
"There was thing tingling, kind of like what happens when you step into some protection wards," Harry explained slowly. "Did you feel it?"
A sharp rap on the front door saved anyone from answering. James exchanged confused glances with Sirius and Lily before leaving the small living room. There was a tense silence. Harry strained to hear the visitor down the hall, trying to ignore the questioning look that Sirius was giving him.
There was a soft whisper of indistinguishable voices, followed by footsteps that echoed down the hall.
James stepped in slowly, "Harry, there's someone who wants to see you."
The brown haired, brown eyed man that followed bore a face that Harry would recognize anywhere.
"Thomas! This is a surprise," Lily said as she strode forward in greeting.
Sirius tore her back harshly; from his narrowed glare and flushed face, it was obvious he recognized him as well.
"Tom Riddle!" Harry hissed, reaching for the wand in his shirt pocket.
Lily gasped and James placed himself in front of his son protectively.
The man's stern face turned to him with a haughtiness that made Harry's stomach churn in disgust. "I wish you'd make up your mind, Harry Potter."
Harry stared back in bewilderment. "What are you taking about?"
The man sighed impatiently. "First you call me, now you don't want to see me. It's becoming irritating."
"I don't know what you're taking about. I never wanted to see you!" Harry shot back angrily.
The corner of Riddle's mouth twitched into an all too familiar smirk. "Even with that, you're still clueless. I wonder how you managed to escape him so many times," he shook his head, waving a hand carelessly. "You called me when you wanted to live, boy. You left me when you wanted to die."
Harry's heart sank; a ton of ice settled in his stomach. He could feel his face paling as he spoke. "You're… you're the Dark Lord."
Lily made a small sound of disbelief. But when Riddle smiled, a slow, sneering smile that cut across his face with frightful familiarity, the room fell into a fitful silence. For a long moment, not even soft breathing could be heard.
Abruptly, Sirius jerked his arm back with a snarl, looking ready to smash Riddle's face in with his bare hands but Lily firmly held him back.
Riddle barely acknowledged him, eyes fixed on Harry unblinkingly. "The snake found you then."
Harry froze, the memory of those words coming to him in a haze.
You have already lost…
You have nothing left to lose…
"That…" Harry choked out, taking a small step back. "That wasn't a dream?"
Sirius jerked around to face him, eyes wide with an emotion akin to disappointment. But Harry couldn't bring himself to face his godfather or his father for keeping such a secret so deeply hidden.
"I'm amazed at your foolishness, boy," Riddle said, holding Harry's gaze unflinchingly. "I didn't realize that until after I gave you the warning in a dream, telling you of my victory, telling you that I was the one who had the rest of you."
"What?!" Sirius snarled.
"You told no one," Riddle continued, not even sparing a glance Sirius' way. "for reasons of your own."
Sirius held his tongue, but his entire body trembled with suppressed anger. James had gone deathly pale; Harry was sure his grip was bruising. Lily's eyes were wide, a hand at her mouth in shock.
"You're going to die soon, The-Boy-Who-Lived," Riddle spat out the name bitterly. "You are going to be trapped forever."
Sirius paled, stumbling slightly on unsteady feet. James suddenly broke at those words. He wrapped an arm around Harry, crushing him against his chest, turning a wand at Riddle.
"Let Harry go," James hissed, his wand hand shaking.
Riddle seemed unfazed, he acknowledged only Harry himself. But Harry's mind was still reeling in shock. Sirius will be gone soon, he'll never see his godfather again. Or Ron. Or Hermione. Despite the reassuring thoughts of finally being able to be with his parents, Harry couldn't hold back a pang of regret.
But Harry couldn't let that show with Riddle calmly scrutinize him. Harry forced himself to return Tom's gaze firmly, maybe even a bit obstinately. Instinctively, he straightened, extracting himself from James's so that he no longer stood in his father's protection.
"I want it back," Harry said firmly. His voice was unwavering; it rang clear in the small room. "I want what you've taken from me back."
Thomas' thin lips twitched again, and soon, high pitched laughter was echoing across the walls. James grasped Harry's arm, making the motion of dragging him back, but Harry caught his hand, giving it a small squeeze. James looked at him sharply, but Harry shook his head, taking a step towards his archenemy's father. He drew his wand with a steady hand, pointing it at the taller man.
"You think you can kill me?" Riddle said. The gleam in his eye mirrored that of his son's almost perfectly. "I don't think so, Harry Potter. You can't make me return it to you by force. I have to give it to you willingly."
"What?"
"Oh Harry, Harry, Harry," Riddle shook his head, eyes twinkling with amusement. "You gave yourself willingly. I must give it back to you the same way.
Harry swallowed, mouth going dry. "What… what do you want?"
"A proof of your worthiness," Riddle said as he took long strides forward. James followed suit, wand drawn warningly, but Riddle only watched him with contempt. He offered Harry a smooth, youthful hand. "Come, lets discuss this elsewhere."
"Harry's not going anywhere," James growled out.
"Well then, he can stay dead," Riddle said smoothly. "I'm certainly not going to give him a second chance."
James scowled in anger, but said nothing. Riddle smiled, blending low to whisper in Harry's ear.
"Don't you know? Impartial spirits don't stay impartial that long. If you don't return soon, you'll never be able to again. I'm surprised you defied that for so long. Even after ten days of death, you managed to keep those doors of life open," Riddle sneered, standing up again and flicking an invisible speck of lint from his flawless robes. "What do you say, Harry?"
Harry paled, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.
A brittle silence settled in the room, with Lily wide eyed, watching her son worriedly, James' hand trembling with suppressed fury, and Sirius straining under Lily's death grip.
Harry swallowed nervously. It was his only chance; besides, there was nothing to lose. It was the one chance he had to see Ron and Hermione again, the one chance he had against Voldemort. But what about his parents?
He glanced at his father, but James' blatant concern and apprehension for him made him look down again. His brown eyes were openly apologizing, guilty for the times he couldn't be there, and would never be there. His mother looked torn for having to let go her newly found son, but they bore a hard determination. His parents didn't want him to die, Harry realized. But living would mean losing them again.
But dying would mean losing everyone he knew. And how would Sirius manage? Harry turned to his godfather, taking in the gaunt and pale features. Harry had seen the toll his death took on him. He could hardly imagine the pain everyone else was going through. Sirius returned the gaze searchingly, as if trying to read his thoughts. Harry gave him a small smile.
"I'm sorry," he told him. For making you miserable. For making everyone sad. If I fail, please go on your life without me.
Taking a deep breath, he grasped the outstretched hand. Instantly, he shivered. The hand was like ice that spread cold water through his veins. Wind rushed into the room, whipping at his clothes and knocking plates to the floor. Distantly, he could hear the voices of crying out to him. He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. The floor beneath him was soft and wet. It pulled at his leg like collagulated mud. Harry looked down and his stomach all but disappeared.
It was the marsh.
*
I know Lily didn't play a large part in the story, but I really have a hard time balancing the duties of a mother and father. Putting them together would be too much, and introducing them one at a time would be too tedious.
This chapter was way too crowded, but if I divided it, it would have been too short. Originally, the last bit of conversation was somewhere else… but then I realized it was too close to the beginning of the story. Oh well.