A/N: *stays hidden in corner to avoid tomatoes and pitchforks* Here! *throws story* Just read!
Disclaimer: If I owned anything I'd be dead for my lack of updating....
~~~
The beast in me
Is caged by frail and fragile bars
Restless by day
And by night rants and rages at the stars
God help the beast in me
The beast in me
Has had to learn to live with pain
And how to shelter from the rain
And in the twinkling of an eye
Might have to be restrained
God help the beast in me
~Johnny Cash
"The Beast In Me"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun was drawing closer and closer to the horizon, disappearing underneath the darkness that crept towards the earth. It lingered, hoping to shed one more spark of light before drifting beyond and purging the world into darkness for the night.
Harry dipped a forefinger into the small stream, gently caressing the stream with his weathered hand. He moved his finger back and forth, as though willing it to elope him into the vast darkness of the mossy bottoms.
He sighed, his unruly black hair gliding across his forehead as a breeze pushed past him eerily. He leaned his scarred back against the ancient tree and let his eyes loll him into a half-awake state. He shuddered at the now howling wind and forced himself to keep his tired eyes open.
He was afraid to fall asleep, now more then ever. After he'd talked to his parents, touched them and realized the heartache that dwelled inside himself, he didn't want to taint such a good dream with the horrible stench of reality. It had been so long since he'd dreamed of good things, and now, he wanted to relish the dream, pretend he could sleep without waking to his strangled cry for at least one more night.
He leaned forward slightly, just enough so that the teenager could watch his reflection. It wavered in the disturbed waters as Harry pulled his finger from it's depths. His skin, which had been so ghostly pale all summer now seemed to be gaining a more healthy look to it. His hair was worse then before since he'd come to run his hand through his hair repeatedly. His eyes were weighed heavy with dark bags of guilt, the green that once gleamed with hope now stared blankly ahead as though now sure of how to live, to survive.
His fingers now made their way towards the amulet that he'd hung around his neck since the dream. It glowed dully, the white now changed to a dark, navy blue. It gave off a sort of warmth he'd never experienced and held it in his hand. As he breathed in deeply, remembering the smell of his mother's hair, the warmth of their embrace, it took more strength then he had to give to will away the straying tears that lurked down his face and fell into the pond in front of him.
Is that what it'd feel like? To have a mother and know that no matter what she's always be there for you, know you, love you despite all the troubles? Not for all the fame he received would he had ever returned to the world he'd left behind for those short minutes if he didn't have to.
A small leaf gently fell into the waters, distorting his reflection and slowly wavering back and forth in the waters as it settled to it's release from the tree it'd come to hold on to it's entire life. Harry picked up the leaf, tracing the veins in the intricately designed object. He studied the designs as they wove in and out as though they formed a maze that wond so much it could not be undone. Unless he started slowly and had the patience to finish.
He heard footsteps behind him and he quickly hid the amulet back into his shirt before turning to the visitor and then gazing back at the leaf that he'd held onto and continued to weave it's pattern.
"Hey Har," The soft voice said as Harry turned his eyes away from the light blue orbs that stared at him with concern and something he couldn't detect. Was it a similar emotion he'd recognized in his mother and father's eyes?
The older man sat down next to him, resting his back on the tree in the same fashion as his godson. Sirius put his hands behind his head, and simply stared at the water peacefully along with Harry.
There was something oddly comforting about someone sitting near him as he thought. Neither talked, they simply sat, listening to the birds that took flight overtop them, on their way home for the night. Harry caught a glance at his godfather and noticed he was still staring at the water, as thought deep in thought.
'He saved me,' Harry thought, still staring at his godfather who didn't seem to notice his godson's eyes on him. 'He saved me from my uncle and I'd never even thanked him. I nearly blamed him for what happened.'
Sirius moved his head towards Harry, catching the boy's stare. Green eyes stared into blue. Harry continued eye contact as though afraid to let go.
'He's in so much pain. Since Azkaban, he's been in dreadful pain, and all I've done is cause him more.'
"What is it, kiddo?" Harry had never understood where the nickname had come from, but he felt connected to it in a way he'd never felt before.
"I'm sorry, Sirius. I am so sorry." Damn those tears. Why do they always come at the wrong time?
"For what?" His head was cocked to the side slightly, causing Harry to feel slightly amused, despite the situation, as he looked more like a canine then ever before.
"I never thanked you for saving me. And I've been horrible to you, to you all. I'm surprised you didn't just leave," he said quietly. Sirius seemed as though he wanted to sigh and broke his eye contact with Harry. Then he turned back, smirking.
"Kid, there's nothing you could do to make me go away, I'm afraid you're stuck with this godfather for life." Harry's heart contracted painfully in his chest. Was he really saying what he'd wished for all his life?
"You know, though, you had us all scared to death," Sirius turned his gaze to the ground and then back to Harry so quickly he thought he might've imagined it. Harry felt slightly ashamed at the comment, wishing he'd assured them he really was all right.
"I didn't mean to-"
"Hey, don't go apologizing again. There's nothing we can do to change the past." Was that really true? Harry's head spun with all the emotions going through him at once at the simple sentence. They broke into silence again, both of them turning back towards the pond, neither quite ready to speak, both listening quietly to the crickets that began playing their melodic song as night came into full view. Harry could see the stars pulling through the dark night and shivered from the dropping temperature.
'Would he ever hurt me?' the question made him squirm inside. His green eyes closed as images of his uncle turned into his godfather. The scars on his back began to sting against the bark of the tree as previous beatings fluttered through his mind, his godfather hurting him-
But then, pictures, memories of the past couple of weeks pushed their way to the front of his mind. Sirius, holding him, not beating him. Hugging him like a father would a son-But was it too much to hope that someone cared? And before he knew what he was doing, his lips parted to emit the wistful question that lurked inside himself.
"Sirius? Why do you stay with me?" The older man's eyes stayed closed and Harry began to think he'd fallen asleep. He felt shame rise in him along with the heat in his cheeks.
"Because, kiddo," his godfather opened his eyes and pushed the boy's hair back. He was so surprised he didn't even flinch at the touch. "I love you like the son I never had."
Harry stared blankly at the man, not fully comprehending what he's said. He'd never expected an answer like that.
"Hey, I know it's hard to understand, maybe impossible. I understand more then you probably know." The haunted eyes of Azkaban glazed over as thought lost in a memory. Harry felt his head tilt slightly, trying to figure out what his godfather was trying to tell him.
"Not everything is what you see, kid. My family's hated me from the minute I was born. There's no stopping feelings like that. There was nothing I could have done that was right to accept their love. And Lily-your mother, Har, her father-" Sirius shook his head and Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
"My mum? My-grandfather?" he whispered. 'You?' his thoughts echoed. How could two of the strongest people he'd come to know, even if one was only a memory, have been through what he went through?
"Lily changed when her mom died, and so did her dad. Haven't you ever wondered why Petunia hated your mother so much? It wasn't something that just developed over jealousy. Your mother was hated in her family because she was blamed for her mother's death." His voice was quiet, almost a whisper by the time he finished. How had he not seen the pain and hurt that lurked in Sirius's eyes before now?
"Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Har?" His voice was coarse, but strong. "You don't-can't get over things like that. Family is suppose to be love, but sometimes it's taken away because-well, sometimes for no reason at all. I wish I could tell you to just wish it away, ignore it and you'll never have to think of it again. But it haunts you forever unless you can learn to accept it and become stronger because of it. You have to push through it, no matter how much it hurts in here," Sirius's weathered hand laid across Harry's chest over his heart. "But in the end, you'll be so much stronger and better for it." His green eyes lowered, his heart constricting painfully and slowly. It was now or never.
"My unc-" his voice stopped, choking on his own words. "Vernon's hated me all my life. And I don't know why, Sirius. I don't understand. I know I'm a freak, but why? What did I do?" Sirius watched his godson who turned away ashamed. He pulled him into a half-hug.
"You are not a freak," Sirius said softly. "Everything he told you, everything he called you, were lies. Sometimes-" he swallowed swiftly. "Sometimes people hate for no reason when they don't understand something."
"Siri, why did your family hate you?" His eyes hardened, and he looked into the water.
"I wasn't good enough. I was sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherien, I wasn't supportive of Voldemort, you name it. I did everything wrong in their eyes. My family was very much into the dark arts, were pureblood fanatics. I hated everything about my family as much as they hated me," Harry sighed quietly as they were purged into silence once again.
"I-Vernon burned all my pictures of my parents," he whispered to his godfather. Sirius nodded quietly as he ran a hand through his black hair.
"I know, I saw," The images of the spell the wizards had cast on Harry earlier in his stay at the Burrow were still fresh in the man's mind.
"I tried to stop them, I tried to grab them, I really did. But even though the pictures shouldn't have burned from the charms that were placed on them, I guess something went wrong," he pulled back the sleeves from his shirt hesitantly and showed the scars from the fire to Sirius.
"The fire burned me pretty bad, but 'they' wouldn't take me to the doctor. That's why Madam Pomfrey couldn't heal most of my scars. They were rooted too deeply in my skin." He couldn't go on, no matter what. Sirius looked at them, his cold hands tracing them strangely.
"I thought that all your wounds were healed-" Harry shook his head sadly.
"Only my wounds. Scars like these, " He gestured to the scars on his back and arm, "they don't disappear like I'd wish."
"Are you still having nightmares about Cedric?" Sirius asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of subject.
"Would you believe me if I told you I haven't slept in days so that I could remember the dream with my parents?" Sirius laughed quietly.
"Yeah, you've had a lot on your mind lately," Harry smiled but it faltered as he regained the memory.
"All summer I had nightmares about 'it'," Harry felt oddly strange revealing all of this to Sirius when a week ago he'd tried to avoid all human contact at all.
"I heard the voice of Cedric. I mean, at first it was Cedric. But it kept changing to Voldemort and back. I don't understand how I disappeared, but maybe it was Voldemort's plan to torture me, I don't know. But I kept seeing Cedric reappearing in front of me too. It was almost like he was a ghost, and he kept blaming me, calling me a murderer-" he shook his head ruffly.
"Harry- Cedric's death-"
"I know what you're going to tell me, Sirius. It isn't my fault. But it is! Can't you see? I was there, I saw it-I could have prevented it and I didn't. I just watched him fall-his death was my fault," Tears lurked from his green eyes, his elbow resting on his knee and gripping his hair with his hand.
"So you think Voldemort is innocent then?" Harry didn't say anything, his eyes still closed painfully trying to block the images from the third task from his mind.
"If you think Voldemort is innocent and everyone who didn't prevent their deaths is at fault, then maybe we should all just give up fighting Voldemort and start fighting against each other," Harry turned his head, still resting on his hand and looked at his godfather, his tears still falling down his pale cheeks. Sirius sighed and hugged his godson who grabbed onto the older man's shirt and cried, his painstaking sobs shaking his body. Sirius's body began rocking the boy back and forth, whispering softly.
"I never meant for any of this to happen, Sirius. I never wanted anyone to die, I don't want to be the Boy-Who-Lived," he cried. Sirius leaned his forehead on the boy's messy hair.
"I know, I know." And the barrier was broken as Sirius felt his own tears fall, the pain of the past twelve years resurfacing slowly.
Harry felt his breath slowing down as he sniffed in the smell of his godfather's shirt. He smelled slightly of the cologne Harry had smelled when Padfoot was curled up next to him as he slept. He didn't dare let go of Sirius shirt, afraid that he might disappear although he'd stopped crying.
"Will you make me a promise?" Harry let go of his shirt reluctantly and listened to his godfather's words.
"Promise me that you'll never give up, no matter how hard it is," Harry nodded and added quietly.
"As long as we're both trying, we can get through this."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hermoine?" Ron walked over to his couch in front of the living room fire and sat down. He looked at the girl sitting next to him. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were red as though from crying. Now, she wasn't crying, but staring into the fire, as though she had no movement left. It was like she was a zombie. And it was how Ron was feeling inside. Empty and scared.
"Hermoine? Come on, snap out of it," Ron shook her shoulders gently and Hermoine whipped her head towards Ron. Startled, he recoiled.
"Whao, calm down, 'Moine. Come on, breath," Ron said soothingly. Hermoine narrowed her eyes like she thought he was trying to be funny.
"Are you ok?" Ron asked the startled girl. Her eyes had turned an unnerving dark brown.
"My friend is dying inside, Ron. How well am I suppose to be?" He only responded with a sigh. They sat in silence for a while until-
"It's my fault, you know," Ron looked at her like he thought she had lost her mind. "When I saw all the signs, I should have suspected. But I thought I was overreacting, you know, being stupid. If only I had been smart, Ron, I could've saved Harry all that pain," Ron put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look towards him.
"Hermoine, snap out of it. This isn't your fault. You're putting yourself into the same position Harry has and if you don't stop blaming yourself then you'll drive yourself insane. We have to focus on how to get Harry better," Ron's blue eyes were filled with tears as the brown haired girl looked emotionless.
"And I know why you blame yourself. Damn, 'Moine, I wish I wasn't so thick-headed. I know I blamed you before-but I was wrong, Hermoine. I was so wrong. You know how stupid I get when I'm angry," Hermoine didn't react. "We have to be strong for Harry, 'moine."
"I don't know how much longer I can stay strong for him, Ron. This is so hard," she sighed quietly. "He's had to grow up so fast, Ron. When I first met him, I thought that's just the way he was. But it wasn't. His uncle didn't let him live like a child, but a slave," she dropped her voice to a hoarse whisper, as though not daring to let anyone hear her.
"And somewhere along the line, when we became friends with him, we grew up too. But there's something inside me that just doesn't want to grow up yet. I'm too afraid that when I grow up, I'll never be able to be carefree anymore," Ron didn't dare look into her face. His own face was illuminated by the fire he stared into, the heat licking at his cheeks.
"He needs you, Herm. He needs you more then he needs me," Ron said quietly. Hermione turned her head so quickly that Ron wondered how he ever could have thought she couldn't move. But he knew Hermoine was right. That summer had caused the two of them to grow up as fast as Harry had to when he was younger. And Ron knew Hermoine needed Harry as much as he needed her.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Hermoine rubbing her forehead irritably.
"Ron," her voice was soft and hoarse. Ron turned his head towards the girl who was looking as old as he felt. How were they suppose to survive this? They were too young. They were all far too young for this.
"All these years, all that pain. And yet, not once," she stopped suddenly and then lifted her head to meet Ron's eyes. He saw shock in those eyes. And she didn't have to finish her sentence for him to understand what they both were thinking.
"He never told anyone." And the two friends, deep in thought and worry, stared into the fire, too afraid to cry, too alone to sleep, and too tired to speak.
A/N: You have no idea how sorry I am, and I have no excuse for my laziness. I'm sorry to everyone who has been reading this and I promise to finish this story. Unfortunately, it was either this story or Dark Shadows to continue, and I chose this story. I will, however, leave it up in case one day I decide to finish it.
Thank you all for reading this, and thanks to all the past reviewers of this story. I know that I don't deserve them for not updating at all for practically a year, but please, please, please, REVIEW! Thanks, you have no idea how much they motivate me.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything I'd be dead for my lack of updating....
~~~
The beast in me
Is caged by frail and fragile bars
Restless by day
And by night rants and rages at the stars
God help the beast in me
The beast in me
Has had to learn to live with pain
And how to shelter from the rain
And in the twinkling of an eye
Might have to be restrained
God help the beast in me
~Johnny Cash
"The Beast In Me"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun was drawing closer and closer to the horizon, disappearing underneath the darkness that crept towards the earth. It lingered, hoping to shed one more spark of light before drifting beyond and purging the world into darkness for the night.
Harry dipped a forefinger into the small stream, gently caressing the stream with his weathered hand. He moved his finger back and forth, as though willing it to elope him into the vast darkness of the mossy bottoms.
He sighed, his unruly black hair gliding across his forehead as a breeze pushed past him eerily. He leaned his scarred back against the ancient tree and let his eyes loll him into a half-awake state. He shuddered at the now howling wind and forced himself to keep his tired eyes open.
He was afraid to fall asleep, now more then ever. After he'd talked to his parents, touched them and realized the heartache that dwelled inside himself, he didn't want to taint such a good dream with the horrible stench of reality. It had been so long since he'd dreamed of good things, and now, he wanted to relish the dream, pretend he could sleep without waking to his strangled cry for at least one more night.
He leaned forward slightly, just enough so that the teenager could watch his reflection. It wavered in the disturbed waters as Harry pulled his finger from it's depths. His skin, which had been so ghostly pale all summer now seemed to be gaining a more healthy look to it. His hair was worse then before since he'd come to run his hand through his hair repeatedly. His eyes were weighed heavy with dark bags of guilt, the green that once gleamed with hope now stared blankly ahead as though now sure of how to live, to survive.
His fingers now made their way towards the amulet that he'd hung around his neck since the dream. It glowed dully, the white now changed to a dark, navy blue. It gave off a sort of warmth he'd never experienced and held it in his hand. As he breathed in deeply, remembering the smell of his mother's hair, the warmth of their embrace, it took more strength then he had to give to will away the straying tears that lurked down his face and fell into the pond in front of him.
Is that what it'd feel like? To have a mother and know that no matter what she's always be there for you, know you, love you despite all the troubles? Not for all the fame he received would he had ever returned to the world he'd left behind for those short minutes if he didn't have to.
A small leaf gently fell into the waters, distorting his reflection and slowly wavering back and forth in the waters as it settled to it's release from the tree it'd come to hold on to it's entire life. Harry picked up the leaf, tracing the veins in the intricately designed object. He studied the designs as they wove in and out as though they formed a maze that wond so much it could not be undone. Unless he started slowly and had the patience to finish.
He heard footsteps behind him and he quickly hid the amulet back into his shirt before turning to the visitor and then gazing back at the leaf that he'd held onto and continued to weave it's pattern.
"Hey Har," The soft voice said as Harry turned his eyes away from the light blue orbs that stared at him with concern and something he couldn't detect. Was it a similar emotion he'd recognized in his mother and father's eyes?
The older man sat down next to him, resting his back on the tree in the same fashion as his godson. Sirius put his hands behind his head, and simply stared at the water peacefully along with Harry.
There was something oddly comforting about someone sitting near him as he thought. Neither talked, they simply sat, listening to the birds that took flight overtop them, on their way home for the night. Harry caught a glance at his godfather and noticed he was still staring at the water, as thought deep in thought.
'He saved me,' Harry thought, still staring at his godfather who didn't seem to notice his godson's eyes on him. 'He saved me from my uncle and I'd never even thanked him. I nearly blamed him for what happened.'
Sirius moved his head towards Harry, catching the boy's stare. Green eyes stared into blue. Harry continued eye contact as though afraid to let go.
'He's in so much pain. Since Azkaban, he's been in dreadful pain, and all I've done is cause him more.'
"What is it, kiddo?" Harry had never understood where the nickname had come from, but he felt connected to it in a way he'd never felt before.
"I'm sorry, Sirius. I am so sorry." Damn those tears. Why do they always come at the wrong time?
"For what?" His head was cocked to the side slightly, causing Harry to feel slightly amused, despite the situation, as he looked more like a canine then ever before.
"I never thanked you for saving me. And I've been horrible to you, to you all. I'm surprised you didn't just leave," he said quietly. Sirius seemed as though he wanted to sigh and broke his eye contact with Harry. Then he turned back, smirking.
"Kid, there's nothing you could do to make me go away, I'm afraid you're stuck with this godfather for life." Harry's heart contracted painfully in his chest. Was he really saying what he'd wished for all his life?
"You know, though, you had us all scared to death," Sirius turned his gaze to the ground and then back to Harry so quickly he thought he might've imagined it. Harry felt slightly ashamed at the comment, wishing he'd assured them he really was all right.
"I didn't mean to-"
"Hey, don't go apologizing again. There's nothing we can do to change the past." Was that really true? Harry's head spun with all the emotions going through him at once at the simple sentence. They broke into silence again, both of them turning back towards the pond, neither quite ready to speak, both listening quietly to the crickets that began playing their melodic song as night came into full view. Harry could see the stars pulling through the dark night and shivered from the dropping temperature.
'Would he ever hurt me?' the question made him squirm inside. His green eyes closed as images of his uncle turned into his godfather. The scars on his back began to sting against the bark of the tree as previous beatings fluttered through his mind, his godfather hurting him-
But then, pictures, memories of the past couple of weeks pushed their way to the front of his mind. Sirius, holding him, not beating him. Hugging him like a father would a son-But was it too much to hope that someone cared? And before he knew what he was doing, his lips parted to emit the wistful question that lurked inside himself.
"Sirius? Why do you stay with me?" The older man's eyes stayed closed and Harry began to think he'd fallen asleep. He felt shame rise in him along with the heat in his cheeks.
"Because, kiddo," his godfather opened his eyes and pushed the boy's hair back. He was so surprised he didn't even flinch at the touch. "I love you like the son I never had."
Harry stared blankly at the man, not fully comprehending what he's said. He'd never expected an answer like that.
"Hey, I know it's hard to understand, maybe impossible. I understand more then you probably know." The haunted eyes of Azkaban glazed over as thought lost in a memory. Harry felt his head tilt slightly, trying to figure out what his godfather was trying to tell him.
"Not everything is what you see, kid. My family's hated me from the minute I was born. There's no stopping feelings like that. There was nothing I could have done that was right to accept their love. And Lily-your mother, Har, her father-" Sirius shook his head and Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
"My mum? My-grandfather?" he whispered. 'You?' his thoughts echoed. How could two of the strongest people he'd come to know, even if one was only a memory, have been through what he went through?
"Lily changed when her mom died, and so did her dad. Haven't you ever wondered why Petunia hated your mother so much? It wasn't something that just developed over jealousy. Your mother was hated in her family because she was blamed for her mother's death." His voice was quiet, almost a whisper by the time he finished. How had he not seen the pain and hurt that lurked in Sirius's eyes before now?
"Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Har?" His voice was coarse, but strong. "You don't-can't get over things like that. Family is suppose to be love, but sometimes it's taken away because-well, sometimes for no reason at all. I wish I could tell you to just wish it away, ignore it and you'll never have to think of it again. But it haunts you forever unless you can learn to accept it and become stronger because of it. You have to push through it, no matter how much it hurts in here," Sirius's weathered hand laid across Harry's chest over his heart. "But in the end, you'll be so much stronger and better for it." His green eyes lowered, his heart constricting painfully and slowly. It was now or never.
"My unc-" his voice stopped, choking on his own words. "Vernon's hated me all my life. And I don't know why, Sirius. I don't understand. I know I'm a freak, but why? What did I do?" Sirius watched his godson who turned away ashamed. He pulled him into a half-hug.
"You are not a freak," Sirius said softly. "Everything he told you, everything he called you, were lies. Sometimes-" he swallowed swiftly. "Sometimes people hate for no reason when they don't understand something."
"Siri, why did your family hate you?" His eyes hardened, and he looked into the water.
"I wasn't good enough. I was sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherien, I wasn't supportive of Voldemort, you name it. I did everything wrong in their eyes. My family was very much into the dark arts, were pureblood fanatics. I hated everything about my family as much as they hated me," Harry sighed quietly as they were purged into silence once again.
"I-Vernon burned all my pictures of my parents," he whispered to his godfather. Sirius nodded quietly as he ran a hand through his black hair.
"I know, I saw," The images of the spell the wizards had cast on Harry earlier in his stay at the Burrow were still fresh in the man's mind.
"I tried to stop them, I tried to grab them, I really did. But even though the pictures shouldn't have burned from the charms that were placed on them, I guess something went wrong," he pulled back the sleeves from his shirt hesitantly and showed the scars from the fire to Sirius.
"The fire burned me pretty bad, but 'they' wouldn't take me to the doctor. That's why Madam Pomfrey couldn't heal most of my scars. They were rooted too deeply in my skin." He couldn't go on, no matter what. Sirius looked at them, his cold hands tracing them strangely.
"I thought that all your wounds were healed-" Harry shook his head sadly.
"Only my wounds. Scars like these, " He gestured to the scars on his back and arm, "they don't disappear like I'd wish."
"Are you still having nightmares about Cedric?" Sirius asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of subject.
"Would you believe me if I told you I haven't slept in days so that I could remember the dream with my parents?" Sirius laughed quietly.
"Yeah, you've had a lot on your mind lately," Harry smiled but it faltered as he regained the memory.
"All summer I had nightmares about 'it'," Harry felt oddly strange revealing all of this to Sirius when a week ago he'd tried to avoid all human contact at all.
"I heard the voice of Cedric. I mean, at first it was Cedric. But it kept changing to Voldemort and back. I don't understand how I disappeared, but maybe it was Voldemort's plan to torture me, I don't know. But I kept seeing Cedric reappearing in front of me too. It was almost like he was a ghost, and he kept blaming me, calling me a murderer-" he shook his head ruffly.
"Harry- Cedric's death-"
"I know what you're going to tell me, Sirius. It isn't my fault. But it is! Can't you see? I was there, I saw it-I could have prevented it and I didn't. I just watched him fall-his death was my fault," Tears lurked from his green eyes, his elbow resting on his knee and gripping his hair with his hand.
"So you think Voldemort is innocent then?" Harry didn't say anything, his eyes still closed painfully trying to block the images from the third task from his mind.
"If you think Voldemort is innocent and everyone who didn't prevent their deaths is at fault, then maybe we should all just give up fighting Voldemort and start fighting against each other," Harry turned his head, still resting on his hand and looked at his godfather, his tears still falling down his pale cheeks. Sirius sighed and hugged his godson who grabbed onto the older man's shirt and cried, his painstaking sobs shaking his body. Sirius's body began rocking the boy back and forth, whispering softly.
"I never meant for any of this to happen, Sirius. I never wanted anyone to die, I don't want to be the Boy-Who-Lived," he cried. Sirius leaned his forehead on the boy's messy hair.
"I know, I know." And the barrier was broken as Sirius felt his own tears fall, the pain of the past twelve years resurfacing slowly.
Harry felt his breath slowing down as he sniffed in the smell of his godfather's shirt. He smelled slightly of the cologne Harry had smelled when Padfoot was curled up next to him as he slept. He didn't dare let go of Sirius shirt, afraid that he might disappear although he'd stopped crying.
"Will you make me a promise?" Harry let go of his shirt reluctantly and listened to his godfather's words.
"Promise me that you'll never give up, no matter how hard it is," Harry nodded and added quietly.
"As long as we're both trying, we can get through this."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hermoine?" Ron walked over to his couch in front of the living room fire and sat down. He looked at the girl sitting next to him. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were red as though from crying. Now, she wasn't crying, but staring into the fire, as though she had no movement left. It was like she was a zombie. And it was how Ron was feeling inside. Empty and scared.
"Hermoine? Come on, snap out of it," Ron shook her shoulders gently and Hermoine whipped her head towards Ron. Startled, he recoiled.
"Whao, calm down, 'Moine. Come on, breath," Ron said soothingly. Hermoine narrowed her eyes like she thought he was trying to be funny.
"Are you ok?" Ron asked the startled girl. Her eyes had turned an unnerving dark brown.
"My friend is dying inside, Ron. How well am I suppose to be?" He only responded with a sigh. They sat in silence for a while until-
"It's my fault, you know," Ron looked at her like he thought she had lost her mind. "When I saw all the signs, I should have suspected. But I thought I was overreacting, you know, being stupid. If only I had been smart, Ron, I could've saved Harry all that pain," Ron put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look towards him.
"Hermoine, snap out of it. This isn't your fault. You're putting yourself into the same position Harry has and if you don't stop blaming yourself then you'll drive yourself insane. We have to focus on how to get Harry better," Ron's blue eyes were filled with tears as the brown haired girl looked emotionless.
"And I know why you blame yourself. Damn, 'Moine, I wish I wasn't so thick-headed. I know I blamed you before-but I was wrong, Hermoine. I was so wrong. You know how stupid I get when I'm angry," Hermoine didn't react. "We have to be strong for Harry, 'moine."
"I don't know how much longer I can stay strong for him, Ron. This is so hard," she sighed quietly. "He's had to grow up so fast, Ron. When I first met him, I thought that's just the way he was. But it wasn't. His uncle didn't let him live like a child, but a slave," she dropped her voice to a hoarse whisper, as though not daring to let anyone hear her.
"And somewhere along the line, when we became friends with him, we grew up too. But there's something inside me that just doesn't want to grow up yet. I'm too afraid that when I grow up, I'll never be able to be carefree anymore," Ron didn't dare look into her face. His own face was illuminated by the fire he stared into, the heat licking at his cheeks.
"He needs you, Herm. He needs you more then he needs me," Ron said quietly. Hermione turned her head so quickly that Ron wondered how he ever could have thought she couldn't move. But he knew Hermoine was right. That summer had caused the two of them to grow up as fast as Harry had to when he was younger. And Ron knew Hermoine needed Harry as much as he needed her.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Hermoine rubbing her forehead irritably.
"Ron," her voice was soft and hoarse. Ron turned his head towards the girl who was looking as old as he felt. How were they suppose to survive this? They were too young. They were all far too young for this.
"All these years, all that pain. And yet, not once," she stopped suddenly and then lifted her head to meet Ron's eyes. He saw shock in those eyes. And she didn't have to finish her sentence for him to understand what they both were thinking.
"He never told anyone." And the two friends, deep in thought and worry, stared into the fire, too afraid to cry, too alone to sleep, and too tired to speak.
A/N: You have no idea how sorry I am, and I have no excuse for my laziness. I'm sorry to everyone who has been reading this and I promise to finish this story. Unfortunately, it was either this story or Dark Shadows to continue, and I chose this story. I will, however, leave it up in case one day I decide to finish it.
Thank you all for reading this, and thanks to all the past reviewers of this story. I know that I don't deserve them for not updating at all for practically a year, but please, please, please, REVIEW! Thanks, you have no idea how much they motivate me.