Seeing Double

Chapter Four – Dreams

By: Lord of the Flame

Beta-ed by: Marcela W.

***

That night, 'Harry' dreamt.

"Hiya," said the girl to "Harry". She was tall, and thin, with brown hair that shone like glitter. A man could get lost in her honey brown eyes—"Harry" certainly knew this; he did at least once a week. Her name was Kyli, and she was a flower. She belonged in Sidyn—with the other flowers.

"Hi—er—Kyli," stuttered "Harry". It was unfair! He did this every time she was around! Why couldn't he just be cool for once?! "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said sweetly. "I brought you a birthday present." "Harry's" birthday had been two weeks ago, but he ignored that. Kyli had brought him a birthday present! She handed him a long, slim box, which he took, slyly taking the opportunity to touch her hand on purpose. She blushed and looked away.

"Y'know," said "Harry", "what would be an even better birthday present than this?"

"No, but I don't know how you would know either; you haven't even opened it."

"I don't need to," said "Harry" lamely. Kyli blushed fiercely, looking at the ground.

"I—I think I hear my mother calling me!"  She said. "Happy birthday! Bye!" And she was gone, faster than "Harry" could blink. Before he even told her what the Best Birthday Present was.

Damn….

"Troubles in love?" asked Sirius upon "Harry's" re-entrance to the house. "Harry" blanched.

"You were watching?!"

"You would expect less of me?"

"SIRIUS!"

"What?" Sirius smirked charmingly.

"Harry" stormed out of the room, more embarrassed than mad. And it was all Kyli's fault!! 

"Hey, kiddo! You hungry?"

"NO."

The sun peeked over the horizon, spraying the sky with beam of ultraviolet colors. It was really quite a sight. Mornings of the small town of Sidyn were always something spectacular. There were few trees in the town, but enough flowers to satisfy anyone's need for nature.

But, in the middle-sized house on the corner of Welch St., a man and boy were quite ignorant of the sunrise outside.

"Hey, kid!" a slightly aged, male voice called. "It's almost ten o'clock!" Following the exclamation was a knock on the oak door of "Kid's" room.

"Which means I still have two hours of sleep left; go away, Sirius." The boy occupying the bed stuffed his face down into) the pillow, trying his hardest to drown out the voice of the man that was interrupting his beauty rest.

"But I made breakfast!" called Sirius from the door.

"All the more reason to stay in bed!"

"Hey!" called the man outside, "Don't make me come in there!"

"It doesn't matter if you do, I'm still not getting up," said the boy smartly.

These types of arguments were common in the house on the corner. Neither the man nor the boy ever really got angry at each other, but rather just seemed to play.

The man entered the room. He was dressed in a casual set of black robes. He had misty, pale blue eyes and black hair with some gray in it. He walked over to the boy's bed of the boy and gave the sleeper a good shake. His only reward was the hand that flew at his face.

"Didn't I tell you to go away?" asked the boy grumpily.

"But I made breakfast!"

"Ugh, go away."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"No, I'm tired."

"But you've been sleeping for hours," griped the man. "Honestly, how much sleep can a person need? I've been up since seven."

"Well, you're insane," grumbled the sleepy boy. "And I need as much sleep as I want, so go away."

"I regretfully refuse your request."

"It wasn't a request," the boy grunted.

It was the first day of the boy's summer holiday, and, evidently, he was enjoying it—by sleeping. It was just like Sirius to try and get him out of bed this early, but he wouldn't be tricked like before.

"Look, kid! A Quaffle!" tried Sirius.

The boy didn't look up. "Sirius, how could there be a Quaffle? You have to hold a Quaffle, they don't just float around like Snitches." "That's what I'm saying! A Quaffle—with wings!" "Uh-huh. Right, Sirius." Do you now see what this boy had to go through each summer? The constant nagging of his adoptive father, and lack of sleep. He was surprised he didn't have dark circles under his eyes and food poisoning—it was not a good thing when Sirius tried to cook breakfast. ﻉ

It was raining. "Harry" liked the rain.

Tonight though, was a very special rainy night. It was Kyli's and his five-month anniversary, and he was waiting for her in the park in the rain. Kyli liked the rain, too.

Five months ago (approximately February of his fourth year) he'd gotten the nerve to ask Kyli out. He had known her since first year, after all. It had taken him two hours to work out the correct thing to say to her, because he certainly wanted to be original. A simple, "Kyli, will you go out with me sometime?" would not do at all. And even after he'd worked all the correct things to say, when he met her in person the words came out nothing like he had previously prepared. But she had smiled and said "yes", anyway, so what was the harm?

He and Kyli had been dating since then. Even with Quidditch, studying, and extra activities, they found time to be together at school. The only time they had fought was when Kyli, giving his female cousin a hug only reserved for family, saw "Harry" (Kyli had not known she was his cousin). He'd not seen this particular cousin—he had five—in a year, in any case. After a week of pure torture on "Harry" and Kyli's part, they had resolved their feud and promised never to do it again.

They had been together since.

Of course, "Harry" hadn't been planning for it to rain on their anniversary, but in his opinion, that just made it better. He and Kyli were both rain-lovers, both rain-lovers that Fate liked to tease, nonetheless "Harry" sat in the rain, waiting. He briefly wondered if Kyli wouldn't show up because of the weather, but banished the thought as quickly as it came—of course she would come.

It continued to pour rain down on him. For two hours the water fell, and no sign from Kyli. Perhaps she had forgotten?

"Harry" still sat on the bench—the one he specifically told her to meet him at. At a ten till nine-thirty, he laid down on the bench, letting the rain fall on his already soaked face.

Worry crept into his stomach like a predator creeps up on its prey. Perhaps she did forget?

It wasn't like Kyli to forget. She had an excellent memory. Everything about her, in fact, was excellent (in "Harry's" opinion). Kyli was all the extraordinary things of the world packed into one beautiful package. No, she wouldn't forget this. "Harry" trusted her not to forget.

Kyli did not come.

Hours later, "Harry" was shaken awake by a worried, drenched Sirius. He stared for a minute. Then, "… Sirius, what are you doing here?" "Harry" was quite perplexed. What was Sirius doing there, anyway? What time was it? When was breakfast? "Harry's" head was scrambled with questions like an egg in the frying pan.

Sirius just looked at him.  "Harry" didn't know what it was, but there was something wrong with those pale blue eyes. They were not shining like they usually were. On the contrary, they just stared. They stared at "Harry" as though he would break at the slightest touch. "Sirius?" he questioned, worried. "Is everything okay?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, everything is not okay. You need to come home now."

"But, Sirius—I was—Kyli…" "Harry" broke off.

The rain had stopped briefly, "Harry" noticed. "What time is it anyway?"

"Well past midnight," said Sirius gravely. "I was worried—well—when you didn't come home."

"I'm sorry—I was waiting for Kyli; she didn't come."

"I know," Sirius interrupted. "I know she didn't. Come on, kiddo, we need to get home."

Walking the short distance to home, "Harry" realized just how cold and wet he actually was. The water seeped right through his nice, dark blue robes, freezing his skin so much that it burnt. He felt the Goosebumps prickling along his skin, all the way from his toes to his scalp. It made him feel not only numb, but also like someone was watching him…. "Harry" kicked himself for being paranoid. No one was watching him; he was just cold. He shivered, more to encourage his train of thought than because he was cold.

Then, a voice called out from the darkness, but "Harry" could not tell what it was saying. "Ash…" was all he could hear. He stopped walking for a second, straining to hear more of the voice. "Ash…" Again, that was all he could make out. The voice sounded vaguely familiar and definitely feminine.

Sirius, a little ahead, stopped and turned around. "Harry" could briefly Sirius calling him, asking him if he was all right.

Harry listened again for the voice. Nothing.

He turned to Sirius, whom was still looking worried and tired.

 "I'm fine."

Although, he instantly felt a pang of guilt for making Sirius come looking for him.

If "Harry" had been worried in the park, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. Aurors and Ministry officials were wandering around his neighborhood. Sirius stopped to talk to one of them, a burly man with a small beard. "I think it would be best if you went inside," Sirius said  to "Harry" without emotion.

Harry didn't understand. What was Sirius going to talk to this man about that "Harry", himself, couldn't hear? Sirius had always shared everything with him in the past. He did not, however, question Sirius on the matter. He trusted Sirius to tell him what was wrong, even if he had to wait. "Harry" did not have a single doubt that Sirius wouldn't tell him; that was just how much he trusted Sirius.

Nodding his head, "Harry" tottered the short distance towards the house. To his surprise, Sirius's friend, Remus Lupin, was waiting inside for him. He couldn't help but notice that Remus also looked worried and tired. "Harry" desperately wanted to know what was wrong, but he knew from the look on Remus' face, there were no answers to be discovered there. He would just have to wait for Sirius, even though he would rather not wait at all.

"Hey, there," said Remus. "How're you doing?"

"Cold and wet, thanks," said "Harry" irritably. He didn't mean to come off as rude and harsh as he had, but he couldn't help it. Besides the fact he was cold and wet, he was also being deprived of answers he was really interested in. All of the confusion made him forget completely that Kyli had stood him up.

"Why don't you pull up a chair?" asked Remus, ignoring "Harry's" harsh tone.

"If you insist." Even though "Harry" would've rather done anything than pull up a chair at the moment, he did it anyway. He shivered when he sat down—the soaked fabric was pressing to his back.

Remus seemed to shift uncomfortably for a moment. Then, he asked, "Are you keeping you're grades up?"

"Harry" supposed this was Remus' idea of small talk (in "Harry's" opinion, nothing but evasive maneuvering from the actual point of the conversation), since he had been a professor in his past days and all.

"Yeah," uttered "Harry". "I suppose you could say that."

Sirius entered the kitchen loudly, drawing both of the occupants' attention to him. His face looked drawn and gaunt. Sirius looked exhausted, like he'd been up all night. "Harry" looked at the clock—it was three in the morning. He had waited for Kyli longer than he thought.

Sirius drew up another chair to the table, also.

"Are you finally going to tell me what's going on?" demanded "Harry". His voice came out harshly again. Maybe the coldness really was getting to him.

" Yes. Yes, I'm going to tell you. You see…" Sirius trailed on.

Harry already knew this was something to do with Morculum. "Just tell me," he said firmly, "Whatever it is, I can handle it. Honestly."

"The Minions attacked our neighborhood at ten o' clock. As you know, I was not here, and you were at the park. But, they killed someone, kid." Sirius' voice was tightening. Remus looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but he at the moment. He looked away.

"Who?" asked "Harry". Sirius and Remus shared a pained glance at each other, as if they were each challenging each other to speak first. "Just tell me, damn it!" Both adults turned to look at him, surprised at his sudden outburst.

"Kyli," Sirius gasped out. "They killed Kyli."

Harry felt all color drain from his face. No, this wasn't happening, not Kyli…. He shook his head to reassure himself. "Are you… sure?" he blurted out for no reason. Harry's worst nightmares were then confirmed. Sirius nodded.

"I think…I'm just going to…go to bed now." But "Harry" didn't move for a moment. He sat there in silence, staring straight ahead, his eyes glassy.

"Are—are you okay?" asked Sirius, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," Harry lied. "Just tired."

Sirius offered him what was supposed to be a comforting smile, but Harry felt no compassion at this moment. His entire world had been ripped away from him. He no longer felt anything but sadness and coldness.

"It's going to be okay," Sirius tried to console him, almost reading his thoughts.

"I—I know," declared Harry, "I think I just need to sleep." He needed to sleep it away, forget about it. Never wake up. Ever. That was what he wanted to happen.

"Alright," said Sirius. "Good night."

"Good night," echoed Remus, who had been eerily silent the whole time. Harry secret suspected he felt out of place in such an emotional moment between Sirius and "Harry".

"Harry" did not return their "good nights", but instead trudged out of the kitchen slowly. He did not even remember climbing the stairs to his bedroom.

Harry lie in his bed. He did not think of her, he couldn't-- it was too soon. One night, one simple night, had ruined everything. He had been the happiest boy on the planet, and now he was surely the saddest.

He had been going to tell her that he loved her, but he never had gotten the chance. He never would get the chance now. It was their fault entirely. They had ruined everything for him, and he could've stopped it, if only he had been there when it happened. If he hadn't been sitting on a park bench while everything had happened, she might still be alive. He should've known something was wrong when she failed to show at the park. …He should have known something was wrong…

It was his completely his fault; there was nothing he could do to change that. She, the love of his life, was gone forever and he had done nothing to stop it. If he was truly this ignorant, he didn't deserve to have her. She deserved someone who could tell when something was not right, somebody that didn't sit on a bench, waiting for her to come to him. He should've gone to her.

He would never be able to look at a flower again. Not without thinking of her. The way her brown hair twinkled in the light, how her brown eyes filled her delicate face with happiness, how her eyebrow twitched when she was confused or concentrating hard, how she tucked her hair behind her ear when she laughed. …Her laughter. The sound that filled the world was joy. The merry sound of her laughter was enough to attract anyone's gaze. And she, the only flower in his garden, had loved him, only him.

But, now, that flower was nothing but a shriveled, crinkled pile of petals and a stem; there was no more garden. His garden was dead. He had once been the luckiest man alive, and now he was nothing but the loner he had been in first year. It was first year all over again.

Without knowing it, "Harry" was drifting into a quiet, peaceful slumber. He wanted to dream, dream of anything but his wilted flower, anything but those weeds that had ruined her. So "Harry" dreamt.

A/N: "He dreamt of good things, not bad. He dreamt of glad things, not sad…" –alright, I'm done. I apologize this took so long, but I was stuck for a while. We get a little closer look at "Harry's" life with Sirius in here, and if you're careful, there's a huge point in this chapter that's almost impossible not to miss. I'm not going to tell you whereabouts it is, because that would ruin the fun. I want to see some guesses though.

And for anyone who wanted to know, Kyli was a Mary-Sue on purpose—I'm not that bad of a writer, I swear. And, ack! SD has an angsty side! I would've never expected that! Oh well, the stories write themselves, as you know.

Also, one last thing, I've started a mailing list for SD, if you'd like to be on it just leave your e-mail in the review. I'll e-mail every time a new chapter is up and so on. I might send you some things if I start a new fic I want you to try, but most likely not (it just depends.).

And to end the longest AN I've ever written: REVIEW PLEASE!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own it. How many times must I repeat this STUPID phrase? 

(OH, and HA, 3,001 words! A record word count for SD. [some of my other fics are 4,000 words per chapter] -^_^-)