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Author's note: This is about the return of Sirius. I wrote it to console myself, as I was grieving very hard over Sirius's death. It is set between the books five and six; it starts two weeks after the ending of book five and won't include the sixth year at Hogwarts. Mind you, it's very sentimental and involves a lot of emotion. Buckets of tears, too. If you're looking for a lot of action, Quidditch or whatever, you might be disappointed with it. Please give me some feedback, no matter if you liked the story or not. Oh, and if you spot any grammar or vocabulary mistakes, please tell me! Mind you, I'm not a native speaker of English. If you have already read "The Brightest Star in the Sky", please remember that this does not exactly continue it. "The Brightest Star" is set a few days before the beginning of this, but I wrote it almost a year after I had already finished this one.
Summary:
Harry is grieving very hard over Sirius's death, not letting anybody near him. Remus finally manages to tear down the wall Harry has built around him, and Harry is reunited with his friends. When Hermione notices an odd phenomenon with everybody's eyes, Remus remembers a case of a wizard from the beginning of the century: Saturnus McGraw died in an accident with a Chimera, but a few weeks later he was brought back to life by his adopted son. Remus now thinks that there are so many parallels between the deaths of Sirius and Saturnus that maybe Sirius can be brought back as well...
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Chapter One – True Friends
"Are you alright, Harry?"
"Yes, Remus."
This was the standard dialogue through the door of Harry's room. Harry would not allow anyone to come near him. He had reluctantly agreed on Remus, Moody or Tonks stepping by every other day to check if the Dursleys were treating him good (or at least not treating him too cruel), but he would only speak to them through his door.
Ever since his return to number four, Privet Drive, two weeks ago, he hadn't left his room on another purpose than going to the bathroom. He wasn't too careful with that, either. His hair and body were well overdue for a shower, his clothes really needed to be washed, and his teeth could do with a cleaning, too. He hardly remembered feeding Hedwig each morning, and that was all he did with her - no stroking, no letters to be delivered. His friends kept sending him notes, but Harry did not feel like answering them, although he knew it wasn't fair. It wasn't their fault...
The pain had struck him like a cannonball two days after his arrival at the Dursleys'. He had been OK when he'd said goodbye to his friends at King's Cross Station, he had even looked forward to seeing them again in a few weeks' time, and he had felt relieved at Moody's proposal to look after him more closely. The Dursleys were not as cruel to him as usual, either, which basically meant they left him alone. Petunia would slide his food through the catflap in his door three times a day without further comments, but Harry always returned it half-eaten, if he ate at all.
The worst thing was that he could not cry. He had lost his godfather, the man he had grown to love dearly, the closest thing to a father he had ever known, the one he could trust over all - lost him under dramatic and suspicious circumstances without having been able to say goodbye, and he could not shed a single tear. Harry relived the scene each night in horrible nightmares, where he was back at the Ministry of Magic, struggling to fight his worst enemies, watching Sirius fall through that veil and vanish without a trace, unable to do anything about it. What was worse, he sometimes dreamed of Sirius's voice coming from behind the veil, calling his name, but when Harry wanted to rush over to save him, his feet would not move until he heard Remus say, "It's too late, Harry. He's gone."
From those dreams he sometimes woke with a start, his arms outstretched, his scar burning, his eyes so dry they hurt, and at a terrible loss for breath. The lump in his throat, the feeling that his insides were made of lead and the hammering headache he did no longer even so much as think about, as they were always there. He'd grown accustomed to that. Pain and sadness filled his days, together with an emptiness unlike anything he had known before. Harry felt as if he was constantly surrounded by at least a dozen Dementors who sucked his happy memories out of him. The feeling of never being happy again was now very familiar. He could just as well be dead - in fact, that wouldn't be a bad thing, as he would then maybe see Sirius again. But he still was here, a desperate young wizard going on sixteen, who had just for a second time lost a father.
And to think it was actually his fault... If he just had done what Snape had told him... if he had continued Occlumency, as it had also been Sirius's wish... if he hadn't been so oblivious...
Harry's insides squirmed in silent agony. He had lain on his back for six hours now, staring at the ceiling, unable to move, which was how he'd spent most of the past twelve days. His breakfast stood untouched where Petunia had left it. Harry couldn't even look at it, because it made him feel sick. He was very pale and thin, his unwashed and uncombed hair hung greasily from the back of his head, and tiny drops of perspiration were constantly running down his forehead and cheeks. If only he could cry, he thought dully, perhaps he'd feel better then. But his eyes remained as dry and sore as they had for the last three weeks.
A knock on the door startled him.
"I'm OK," he said flatly. "Leave me alone."
"Harry, please, won't you let me in?" said Remus's voice calmly. "You've been staying in here for two weeks. Don't you think it's time you started to take some interest in what's going on around you?"
"What for?" murmured Harry, more to himself. "The world holds nothing for me now."
"Please, Harry." Remus's calm voice did not change. "You should talk to someone. You're ignoring your friends, who are worried about you; do you think that's fair? You can't go on forever like this, you know..."
"Can't I?" shouted Harry, suddenly angry. "Well, you're wrong! I can!"
Remus spoke again after another pause. "You should be grateful to have these friends, Harry. There is nothing more important in the world than friends, and you are blessed with true ones. They're seldom to be found. Don't give them up while they're still here, waiting for you."
Harry was just about to shout that he wanted to be left alone, when it suddenly struck him what was going on in Remus's head when he had said this. He also realized that Remus's voice had been an inch from cracking when he had said the last words. He felt ashamed. His own pain was horrible, but it wasn't an excuse to hurt Remus Lupin, who had now lost his last remaining true friend after having lost two others before, one of them being Harry's father James. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to lose Ron after having already lost Hermione, Ginny and Neville, but he couldn't. Still this must be what Remus felt right now - Harry, on the other hand, although having suffered a terrible loss, still had all his friends, caring for him, worrying about him...
Harry stood up slowly and walked to the door. His knees were shaking, as he hadn't used his legs for now almost twenty-four hours. He stretched out his hand, turned the key and opened the door.
Remus seemed to have aged twenty years. His hair had gone almost completely gray, there were large shadows under his eyes, and his eyes, once a warm dark blue, had lost their usual look - though still kind and warm, the smile had faded from them. There lay a sadness in them which was almost touchable, and the color seemed to have altered, as if bleached, to a lighter, emptier blue. Harry wondered how that could be.
"I'm sorry, Remus," he said weakly.
"I don't blame you," said Remus mildly. "If there is anyone in the world who has at least an idea of how you feel, Harry, it's probably me. I knew him best, you know... and I have already suffered another loss like this. It's hell you're going through, I know it, and I tell you I've been praying for this not to have happened."
Harry felt very heavy.
"Come in, Remus," he said and stepped aside to let Remus pass. Then he closed the door and went back to his bed. Remus sat down on the chair in front of Harry's desk.
"I had completely forgotten that you've lost him, too," said Harry after a few moments of silence. It was the first complete sentence he had uttered in two weeks, and it felt rather odd. He cleared his throat.
Remus watched him, saying nothing, but there was a touch of haze showing in his oddly bleached eyes.
"I don't know what's come over me," said Harry. He didn't want to say more, but all the unspoken words now stirred in him, rising to the surface and starting to stream out of his mouth. He sat up straight.
"I feel as if I'm surrounded by Dementors," he told Remus. "A feeling that I can never be happy again. Every time I try to think of Ron or Hermione or any other happy memory, he is on my mind. I see him fall, Remus, over and over again, and it makes me forget everything else. All I can think of is that he's never coming back... no owl will ever bring to me one of his short letters, and I won't ever again see him in the fireplace of the common room... he'll never again tell me I'm like... like..."
"Like James," said Remus softly.
"He won't be sitting in the kitchen in that horrible house of this, shouting at Kreacher, eagerly waiting for something he can do, and he won't change into the dog to go for walk or take me to the station..." Harry clenched his fists. "I'll never see him again... he won't know if I passed my OWLs, he won't see me grow up and become whatever it is I'll become, he won't celebrate with my friends and me when we leave school for good... oh God, Remus, I loved him so much and I never told him, and I COULDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE!"
Harry's voice cracked as the tears he had held back for three weeks mounted up inside him, suffocating him, rising into his eyes and finally, finally streaming down his face. He struggled for breath, crying harder and harder. He heard a clatter as Remus, rushing over to him, knocked over the chair he had been sitting on. He reached out a hand, blindly, and felt Remus bending over him. Harry clasped his arms around Remus's neck, still at a loss for breath because of the sobs in his throat. He heard Remus murmur something but couldn't make out the words. Images of Sirius were running through his head... the dog... the confrontation in the Shrieking Shack... his flight with Buckbeak... after the Triwizard Tournament... Christmas, when Sirius had been so happy to have company... the dream Voldemort had sent Harry to lure him into the Department of Mysteries... and then, again, that horrible moment when Sirius fell through the veil. There was a voice in Harry's ears that screamed, "No! No!", but only after a few seconds did he realize that it was his own voice, screaming his pain and panic out of him. Remus fell on his knees beside Harry and reached out for him, and in a gigantic outburst of tears, Harry collapsed in Remus's arms and knew no more.
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How long Harry had been crying he did not know, but it must have been very long, judging from the front of Remus's shabby cloak, which was completely soaked through with tears. When Harry's sobs finally subsided, his throat felt sore and his face was hot and sticky. His heart was beating so fast that Harry feared it would burst through his chest at any moment. He could barely open his eyes, and when he did, he couldn't see clearly. He was still clasping Remus's shoulders, and Remus kept holding him until Harry looked up.
Remus gave him his glasses and Harry took them without a word. He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't think of a single, simple phrase. Feeling oddly ashamed and relieved at the same time, Harry sat up and tried a faint smile.
"Do you feel better now?" asked Remus after a pause.
"Dunno," mumbled Harry.
He hesitated to look at Remus. Though they had decided to continue on first-name terms, Harry still thought of him as Professor Lupin, his teacher at Hogwarts, and crying his eyes out in the arms of a teacher was not Harry's idea of an ideal situation. But a second later, this feeling was gone. Just like Sirius, Remus had been one of his father's best friends, and under different circumstances Harry would probably have known him for as long as he could remember, riding on his knees and calling him "Uncle Remus".
He took a deep breath and turned to Remus. "Yes, Remus, I do feel better now," he said. "A little, at least."
Remus smiled sadly. "Yes, I fear we cannot expect more," he said. A tear blinked in his eye, but he ignored it. "But, Harry, Sirius would have wanted us to carry on. Especially you. I'm sure he wouldn't want us to sit here all day and cry. Of course, we need time to cope with the grief, but we mustn't forget that there is a real devil on the loose out there, and we're the ones to find and fight and defeat him. Sirius wouldn't have wanted to die for nothing, you see," he added in a very low voice, and Harry knew that he was also trying to fight back tears. He pretended not to notice and got up instead.
"Very well then, I think I should take a shower," he said. His voice sounded hoarse from all the crying, but Remus looked up and smiled faintly.
"I hoped that you would say that first," he said. "Brush your teeth as well, will you? And then come down with me."
Harry wondered what there would be downstairs apart from Dudley's new wrestling prize or whatever, but he nodded and went in the bathroom. When he was standing under the shower, he wondered how he could have endured so long without speaking to anyone. He really felt better. The lump in his throat seemed to have become smaller.
When he was done with the shower, Harry dried himself with a towel and brushed his teeth. When he looked in the mirror, he was shocked. The face he was looking at seemed not to be his. Surely he couldn't have lost so much weight in just two weeks, could he? His face was very pale and thin, the skin like old ivory, large dark shadows under his eyes, which seemed to have withdrawn into their sockets, and... his eyes! Harry jumped and then got closer to the mirror. It did not change. The formerly bright green of his eyes had diminished to a lifeless grayish green that wasn't shining at all. It had more the color of a swamp or something, and the longer Harry looked into his own eyes, the more he felt that this could not be a coincidence. First Remus's eyes and now his own. What had happened?
Harry dressed in a rush and left the bathroom. Remus was waiting for him in front of his room.
"Well, let's go downstairs then, shall we?" he said.
"Yes..." said Harry, hesitating. "Listen, Remus, I still have a question..."
"You can ask it downstairs." Remus really seemed keen to take Harry into the living room.
Shrugging, Harry agreed, and the two of them went downstairs into the living room.
Harry gasped.
The Dursleys weren't there, but the room was full of at least twenty people. Harry looked around. He saw Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Mundungus Fletcher, Arabella Figg and Professor McGonagall. Behind them - Harry's heart leaped up into his throat and then continued thumping heavily there - Bill Weasley was standing, his head turned aside and down to talk to Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who were standing next to him. A few other witches and wizards were chatting in the corner next to the fireplace.
"What is going on here?" Harry asked Remus in a whisper.
"They've been here every day," answered Remus just as silently. "They all wanted to know how you were doing, and I had to send them home every time, because you refused to see anyone. So while you were having your shower, I summoned them. Though I must say," he added with an angry glance at the people unknown to Harry, "I thought I called only those who knew you personally and therefore should be the first to know how things are."
The other witches and wizards looked at Remus, who made a gesture at them.
"Don't take it personally, but I'd like you to get out of here," he said and smiled apologetically.
Grumbling, the others Disapparated.
"There he is," shrieked Tonks at this very moment, and all the others interrupted their talking.
Tonks rushed forward and took Harry's hand. "We are so glad you are back with the living, Harry," she said brightly. Apparently she hadn't noticed that her choice of words was not the best one, but Harry knew that she didn't mean to hurt him. She was obviously nearly out of her mind of joy over his return.
"Thanks, Tonks," Harry said and forced himself to a grin.
"Harry," snarled Moody as he clonked nearer. "Thought you might recover soon... tough boy you are. And one thing I wanted to tell you ever since... well, ever since: Your Stunning Spells were brilliant in there. You should re-consider being an Auror."
"Thanks, Mad-Eye," said Harry, even weaker than before, and fought back another gust of tears that suddenly wanted to rise when he thought of his career after school, and that Sirius would never live to see it.
Kingsley, Mundungus, Arabella, McGonagall, Bill and Arthur came all up to Harry and shook his hand. Arthur also gave him a light slap on the back and said quietly, "See you later, boy." All the time Remus stood close beside Harry, one hand on his shoulder, just like Sirius used to when he and Harry were standing side by side. The memory remained on Harry's mind and made him swallow hard again.
"Now could you please leave, too?" said Remus to the others. "Harry needs his friends..."
"Certainly," said Tonks hastily, waved at Harry and Disapparated with a loud crack. The others followed.
Mrs Weasley could now finally get to Harry. She looked at him, sighed deeply and said, "I wish I could do anything to ease your pain, Harry, dear." Then, without further words, she pulled him into a warm, motherly embrace and would not let go for another three minutes. Harry, who had expected her to do something of that kind, was almost surprised when he found that it did good. Just like with Remus, he felt that he could trust Mrs Weasley to the bitter end, and that she would still fight like a tigress for him and her children.
When she finally let him go, Remus left Harry's side, took Mrs Weasley's arm and led her out of the living room.
xxxxx
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny faced each other. Nobody said a word. There was an odd feeling of shyness lying above the scene, and Harry squirmed. He looked at his friends. They all looked tired and worn out. Hermione and Ginny looked like they had cried for quite a long time, too; their eyes were small and their faces red. Ron was so pale that even his freckles were affected. When Harry looked him in the eyes, he was quite sure that their blue had turned a little bit lighter, too. He looked at the girls. Hermione's hazel eyes were definitely different from before, and Ginny's... well, Harry had to admit that he had not very often had the opportunity to look Ginny in the eyes. He simply could not tell if there was any difference.
"Ask me, then," said Ginny so suddenly that all the others jumped.
"Ask you what?" said Harry, confused. How did she know what he was thinking...?
"Whatever you were trying to find out," said Ginny impatiently. "You weren't looking in my eyes to flirt, I reckon?"
"Er..." For some reason he could not positively tell, Harry blushed. "I was just wondering... have your eyes changed their color, too?"
"Yes, they have," said Ginny quietly. "As well as Bill's and Fred's and George's and Mom's and Dad's, but the change with me is almost as great as with Mom. The others are rather minor, really. I reckon you've already seen that change in Remus's?"
"Not to mention your own eyes," said Hermione in a low voice. Her voice sounded hoarse as well, and Harry turned to her.
Hermione stepped forward and took his face between her hands. Harry let it happen, as he knew she was now closely examining his eyes. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse at Ron, who did not look pleased with something.
Hermione let go of his face and looked up at him. Fresh tears were shimmering in her eyes. "The change in your eyes is the most significant one," she said in a shaken voice. "If it goes on like this, you'll probably have gray eyes by the time the new term starts."
"But what does that mean?" whispered Harry.
Hermione surprised him by pulling him into a hug and giving him a little kiss on the cheek. "It happens to all of us," she whispered into his ear, "and I think I've just found the answer."
"What is the answer, then?" said Harry loudly. Hermione stepped back and exchanged a glance with Ron, who still looked angry at something.
Hermione drew a deep breath. "After all I can say, the change in Harry's eyes is the most significant one of all, closely followed by Remus's. Then next in line are Ron and I, then Mrs Weasley, Ginny and the rest of them." She made a little pause.
"So?" said Ron as she didn't continue.
"Well," said Hermione, and it clearly was hard for her to go on, "we all know that the eyes reflect your soul. I can only guess now, but I think it's true - Sirius's death has killed a very little part of all our souls. They have changed, and that's why the colors of our eyes change. Harry's the most, of course, because he was the one who loved Sirius the most. And then Remus, who was like a brother for him. And then, well, you, Ron, and me... I wouldn't have thought so, but I've discovered that I also loved him in a way, and so must you have done... and you, Ginny... and your mom... and all the others. Inside all of us, something has died with Sirius. And that is why, Harry," she added, now speaking firmly, "you should finally allow us near you again. If you continue staying alone with your grief, there might be more inside you dying, until you're left completely empty. I suppose your eyes are turning gray as that is happening."
Harry was listening silently. He could not explain why Hermione's words moved him so deeply. Was it because she had admitted also to have loved Sirius, which she must know meant a lot to Harry? Or was it the calmness with which she spoke of these spiritual things like souls, so matter-of-factly? Harry didn't know. All that he knew was that his throat became narrower again.
"I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry that I didn't answer your letters. I knew you were worried about me, but I didn't care for anything, you see... I was indifferent towards you, towards Remus, towards the Order, towards Voldemort... I just lay on my bed and thought of him..."
"We know, Harry," said Ron, whose voice cracked on every second syllable. "How do you think we spent the first few days afterwards? We were shocked to the core... and we couldn't even say goodbye to him."
"Neither could I," said Harry in a very low voice. "He was simply gone, and it took me hours to realize that. If Remus hadn't held me back, I would've jumped through that veil as well, right after him."
Ginny's lower lip trembled. "Thank God you didn't," she said loudly.
"There was a time when I wasn't glad at all that I didn't," said Harry. "But that's over. I'm just so glad that you are here!"
He opened his arms, and Ginny and Hermione virtually flung themselves to him. He put his arms firmly around the girls and closed his eyes. He felt Ron step to his side him, opened his eyes again and grinned faintly.
"Welcome back, mate," said Ron and joined in the group hug by laying both his arms around Hermione, who stood so close to Harry that Ron could easily touch Harry as well.
They stood like this for quite a long while, and Harry reflected on what Remus had said: There is nothing more important in the world than friends, and you are blessed with true ones.
Yes, he thought as he drew Ginny closer to his chest and shifted his head a little so that Hermione's bushy hair didn't hinder his breathing, yes, he had true friends. And he would never ever desert them again. One thing he had learned from Sirius was that friends were more important than family bonds, more important than good grades, and even more important than falling in love. This kind of love, that between friends, was more likely to last a lifetime than the best marriage. And he also realized, as they were standing in the darkening living room, that, with help from friends like these, he would even manage to cope with his pain and grief. It might take some time, but he was determined to do it.
He was blessed with true friends.
