Chapter 4: In Memory of Sirius Black
Harry had mixed feelings when Saturday finally arrived. He was very happy, he thought, sitting on his bed next to his packed trunk and Hedwig's cage, to finally be getting away from the Dursleys and to be with friends again. (The only witch or wizard he had come in contact with since he had left Hogwarts had been Mrs. Figg, who now had him over for tea at least twice a week, and the occasional Order member, usually Bill Weasley or Tonks, who would accidentally bump into during their nightly watch. None of them were very helpful, though.) But half of him didn't want to be around friends again. Friends who would ask how he was feeling like Ron, Hermione or Lupin. And none of him wanted to go to the funeral. He knew he wasn't ready for either yet. Again Harry found himself thinking, why Sirius? Why did it have to be him?
But Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing, followed by it opening, muffled talking, and Uncle Vernon yelling up the stairs "get down here, boy!" Harry opened his door and walked as slow as possible down the stairs.
"How do you explain this?" Uncle Vernon asked Harry when he finally arrived; making it so that only he could hear as he gestured toward Lupin framed in the open doorway, a nervous smile splayed across is face. Obviously Uncle Vernon was not going to let him in.
"This is Professor Lupin," replied Harry, unable to hide a smirk. Uncle Vernon looked disgustedly at Lupin's shabby robes, as if he thought that someone who wore something like that could not possibly be a professor.
"I'm here to take Harry to-" Lupin began, but was cut off.
"A friend's house for the rest of the summer," finished Harry.
Uncle Vernon looked between the two, knowing something was going on. But instead he rounded on Harry. "You never mentioned someone was taking you," spat Uncle Vernon.
"Oops, must have slipped my mind," replied Harry, staring at him determinately.
"I'll give you a mind slip, boy, if it's the last thing I do!" Lupin moved to grab for his wand, and apparently Uncle Vernon didn't mean the "if it's the last thing I do" part because he quickly spoke up. "Fine then, be off with you!"
"I'll just get my trunk, then," Harry said happily, sprinting up the stairs. When he arrived in his room, Harry grabbed his trunk and lugged it down the stairs.
"See you next summer," Harry said cheerily as he heaved his trunk onto the front porch, his Uncle slamming the door behind him.
"That was pleasant," said Lupin sarcastically as he picked up Harry's trunk and cage, helping him carry it to the corner.
"Knight Bus?" Harry asked. Lupin only nodded and stuck out his wand arm. Almost instantly a BANG sounded and a purple triple-decker bus appeared in front of them.
A conductor in purple stepped down the stairs and started talking. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step-" but upon seeing Harry, abruptly stopped. "'Ey Neville," he said. "'Ere, let me 'elp that." Stan walked over to Harry's trunk, picked it up, and carried it up the bus stairs, Hedwig's cage balanced on top.
Lupin looked quizzically at Harry, but followed Stan up the stairs. "I was on the run from the Ministry, I had to come up with some name," Harry explained as he followed him. That made Lupin chuckle. Harry couldn't remember the last time something even related to a chuckle escaped his throat. Certainly not since Sirius' death. Maybe not even since Cedric's.
Lupin paid Stan and took a seat right behind him and the driver. Harry sat down across from him. "So you didn't tell them that I was taking you?" asked Lupin.
"No," Harry replied.
"Did you tell them about."
"No. They still think he's going to swoop in on them if they treat me badly."
"You have us for that now."
"Yeah, I suppose so. So what's the Or-"
Lupin gave him a warning look to silence him. "I'll tell you when we get there."
The ride "there" was long because of all the stops they had to make along the way, but finally the Knight Bus stopped "two blocks south" as Lupin had told him, of Grimmauld Place. They had to be taken here so that no one would actually know where they were going. As they stepped off the bus Stan said "bye Neville" and in return Harry waved.
But then Harry's attention turned to godfathers funerals and how to act around friends. Because for some reason Harry felt himself shutting down, closing up, wanting to hide his feelings. Not wanting to talk to Lupin or any one else who had been friends with Sirius. He knew this would be a problem, especially with Ron and Hermione. They would want him to tell them all about his feelings, but he wasn't going to let them.
The two blocks walk to Grimmauld Place was in complete silence. When they arrived Lupin activated the house this time and then opened the door. Mrs. Weasley was ready and waiting to greet them both with motherly hugs, Harry's extra hard.
"Oh, Harry!" she said squeezing him. "You poor darling! You poor, poor thing!"
"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied, trying to get out of her strong grip as soon as possible. He didn't appreciate being called a 'poor thing,' he wasn't a poor thing; he could take care of himself. Why did people have to say that, don't they know how annoying it sounds?
When Harry managed to get away from her, he turned around and found himself staring at an empty house, one in which he hated. He hated it because his godfather had hated it. He hated it because of the painting of Mrs. Black that hung on the wall that had scolded Sirius. He hated it because of its emptiness. There were many reasons to hate this house.
Lupin then turned toward Harry and said, "Molly just came here to look after the house while I was gone and to make sure we got back okay. She has to get back to the Burrow soon, so it will just be the two of us, Harry." 'The two of us,' Harry didn't like the sound of that. It probably meant that they would sit down and Lupin would try to make Harry talk about Sirius, something that was not on Harry's to-do list.
"Well I guess I'll take your stuff upstairs, and then I'll be going," Mrs. Weasley said as she put the locmotor charm on Harry's things and took them upstairs, leaving Harry and Lupin alone in the hallway.
"Let's go down to the kitchen and have some dinner," Lupin suggested, finally breaking the silence. Harry made no reply, but followed him down the stairs. When they arrived in the kitchen Harry sat down at the empty table while Lupin went into the pantry, searching for supplies.
Harry sat looking around the room, his eyes finally resting on the mantle over the fireplace. What he saw made his heart stop. No! Pictures when lined up, all showing a beaming Sirius. Pictures from Hogwarts (but none before), pictures before Azkaban, pictures from Harry's parents wedding, and even a few recent ones. There were belongings too, though. A few were letters here and there from people like Dumbldore, James, Lupin, and even him. It appeared that he had kept them all. There were also newspaper clippings from when Sirius had escaped from Azkaban (had that only been three years ago, it felt like an eternity), and personal belongings. It felt like someone had taken a bat to his heart. He didn't want to have to stare at these things every time he sat down to a meal. They dredged up to many memories.
When Lupin finally walked back into the kitchen with a handful of ingredients, he found Harry with his head in his hands, fingers pulling at his hair. He looked more like Sirius more than any time he had before. Upon seeing him like this Lupin whispered, "you are so much like him." Harry just snorted and lifted his head to stare at the mantle. Lupin gave him a that's-just-the-kind-of-thing-he-would-do look, and followed his gaze.
"I see you've noticed my shrine," he said, crossing the room to start dinner on the stove. Harry didn't feel like continuing the conversation, so he just sat quietly while Lupin made dinner.
When Lupin was done he carried the two plates of steaming food to the table, sat down, and passed one to Harry. During the dinner Lupin tried repeatedly to start a new conversation with Harry, never giving up. First he filled him in Order happenings (at least the ones Dumbldore had approved); he could tell by the look on Harry's face that none of it was very interesting to him. Then Lupin asked him questions about his summer and how he was doing, Harry merely replied with things like "good" and "mmm," but stayed as quite as possible. When Harry was done eating he put his dishes in the sink and left the kitchen. He climbed up two flights of stairs to the room he had stayed in last year and collapsed onto the bed with his things in front of it.
"Ah, once again I'm stuck with the enraged teenager," said the familiar voice of Phineas Nigelus in his portrait on the wall. In response Harry threw his pillow at the portrait and drifted off into a fitful sleep.
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The next week passed by slowly. Harry spent most of the time locked up in his room, reading textbooks or just thinking. It was a lot like privet Drive. He came down for meals where Lupin still tried to make him talk, but finished those as quickly as possible. He was glad when Lupin was out, though, so that he could eat in peace. Sometimes Harry went up to feed Buckbeak, who, though it may have been his imagination, seemed to be wondering where Sirius was. At those times he would sit on the windowsill and, not wanting to watch Buckbeak eat, would look at the people walking by who he was glad could not see him, or wonder what the Order members and even Sirius were doing right now.
Saturday eventfully came though, the day of the funeral. Harry sat on his bed and tried to decide between his green dress robes (which looked much nicer) or his usual black ones. Finally he threw on the black ones, deciding they would be more appropriate. Lupin met him at the bottom of the stairs, he too wearing black robes, but also a somber look on his face. They both walked out the door and down two blocks in silence, both having to heavy a heart and too many thoughts on their mind to speak. Lupin signaled the Knight Bus and the two boarded, Lupin paying. Harry was to busy thinking about what lay ahead to notice that Stan wasn't on duty today.
They rode the bus to Hogesmade, because the funeral was to take place at Hogwarts, Harry remembered Lupin telling him. Probably the Sirius was happiest. As Harry stepped down from the bus stairs he made sure not to look at the mountains behind him. He was afraid the memories would force him to cry, and he didn't want to cry in front of Lupin.
They walked across the grounds and up to the lake where everyone else was already congregated. When Hermione saw Harry she immediately ran over and squeezed him round the middle.
"Oh Harry!" she moaned, crying into his chest. Harry, who was caught by surprise, awkwardly patted her on the head. He couldn't help but smile a little though. Since he had gotten over Cho, Harry realized who he had fancied deep down all along.
Ron came over and put a hand on his shoulder. Looking a bit jealous as he glanced at Hermione asked, "how you doing, mate?"
"Okay, I guess," answered Harry. Hermione let go of him and wiped the tears from her eyes. After what she had done Harry decided that if she and Ron didn't want to talk about Sirius to much, he may be able to tolerate them for awhile. The three of them gazed at the lake watching the sunlight flickering across its surface. They weren't really watching it though, their minds were to full of thoughts to just stand there and watch a lake. Harry noticed Lupin had walked over and was now talking to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Hearing his name, he strained his ears to listen in.
"How is he doing?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"Well, he seems a bit depressed," replied Lupin. "How so?" asked Mr. Weasley.
"He wants to be alone all the time and he won't talk to me," replied Lupin.
"Poor dear," muttered Mrs. Weasley. So, thought Harry, they think they can talk about me behind my back, do they?
"Harry?" Hermione asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"What?" Harry snapped, but immediately regret it.
Hermione jumped at his rage but said, "we were just called over."
Harry then noticed that everyone was moving in one direction. Toward the tree. His, Ron, and Hermione's favorite tree. His father, Sirius, Lupin, and the rat's favorite tree. So Harry followed them. They had all formed a ring around the tree so Harry joined in, ending up between Ron and Dumbldore. He glanced up at his headmaster to find his eyes twinkling behind his half moon glasses and that usual look of relaxation on his face. Harry wished he could wipe it off. He then turned his attention to the circle to find all the Weasleys and Order members, excluding of course Percy, Charlie, and Snape.
"I think we should go around and have everyone say something about Sirius," suggested Dumbldore. "Let's start with you Kingsley," he said, indicating Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was just to his right.
"I was head in the hunt for Sirius," Kingsley began. "Until last summer I thought he was a mass murderer like everyone else, but then I found out the truth. Deep down I think I always knew the story was a bit fishy. Sirius was the most fun-loving, kind hearted person man I will ever know and in my heart, that's what he will always be."
Everyone in the circle went round and voiced their thoughts about Sirius. When it came to Tonks she told about what a great cousin he had been when they were little. How he always used to play pranks on everyone and give great Christmas presents, and how he would always find time to play with her when no one else would because they thought she was a freak. She also said that she really missed him.
When it was Lupin's turn Harry made sure to quite his thoughts down so that he could pay attention. "Sirius was my best friend. As a child he was the one who convinced James that I was worthy of their friendship. He always found something to laugh about; otherwise he would make something to laugh about. I would like to share a memory I have that I hope will make you at least smile, because I think that Sirius would be a bit mad if there wasn't laughter at his own funeral. And now I am ready to share a secret that I have kept for years."
"As you know, I am a werewolf, and became one before I started school here. So, once a month I as smuggled out of school so that I could crawl through a tunnel under the Whomping Willow, so that I could change into a monstrous creature in the safety of the Shrieking Shack. I was afraid that when James, Sirius and Peter found out they wouldn't want to be friends anymore, so I didn't tell them. Well, they started to notice that I was gone once a month and got suspicious. James and Sirius were top of the class, very smart, and finally figured it out. Their reaction was a lot different then I thought it would be. They decided that they wanted to go into the shack with me." Mrs. Weasley let out a small gasp. "I knew how dangerous it would be and didn't want them to come, but they insisted. So in out third year the three of them became animagus. Sirius, a bear-sized, black, shaggy dog, and James, a gigantic stag. Peter had some trouble though, and James and Sirius had to help him. You should have seen the look on his face when he finally did it though. His eyes bulged like somebody had squeezed him, but you could definitely tell he was disappointed when he found out that he was a rat." That, like Lupin had said he hoped, raised some laughter.
"Those three helped make my changes easier, until finally I was able to leave the shack with them and have the run of the grounds. Afterwards they would sometimes tell me that I had attacked one of them, usually James, but the other, usually Sirius, would protect them. And that's what I think Sirius was to us all, a protector."
When Lupin was done, it kept moving around the circle. Hermione said that she hoped Sirius was okay, wherever he was, and how good of a friend he had been the past two years. When it was Ron's turn he also said that Sirius had been a good friend and how grateful he was for Pig. Harry was next. When Ron finished all attention turned toward him. Even those he knew hadn't been paying attention now had their eyes on him. Harry looked at Lupin, who gave him a nod of encouragement. I don't need your stupid encouragement, thought Harry, but took a deep breath and started.
"Sirius was much more than a godfather. He was a friend, someone who cared, a joker, someone who understood, and one of a kind. He was wrongly charged for a crime just because he wanted revenge on the people who killed his friends, my parents, and because of that he had to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban and on the run from the law. Sirius was someone you could always count on. He was serious when he needed to be, but would always make us laugh, even when we thought there was nothing to laugh about."
"His laugh was like a dog bark, I'll never forget it. I'll never forget the first time I saw him either. He scared me while in his dog form near Privet Drive. Or the time he came to my quidditch match to see if I played as good as my dad. I think we should all cherish our memories of Sirius because, besides photos, it's all we have left of him."
Harry wasn't quite sure where that had come from, because he hadn't practiced ahead of time. It was like the words had been sitting there all the time, just waiting to escape his throat. Harry looked over at Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Hermione who were all crying, and then at Lupin who had silent tears streaming down his face. Weaklings, thought Harry. Of course he cried, but never in front of others, that showed weakness.
Harry made sure to quiet his thoughts down again so that he could hear what Dumbldore had to say. "Sirius was a courageous man. He died to save his godson as he would have for his friends. He was the kind of person who was always either laughing or making other people laugh. He was a lot to all of us. I just hope all of you will take some time out every once in awhile to remember Sirius. But don't remember the man in which the veil swallowed up, remember the man who was a hero to us all. A man who rarely cried, but always laughed. A man who was encouraging, and hopeful, and brave. But most of all remember the dog that he was inside. Now, I think that flowers would be in order." And with that Dumbldore conjured into everyone's hands.
Harry looked down and saw that he now held white flowers of some sort. He watched as everyone else walked up the beach tree and placed their flowers at the trunk. When they had all drifted away Harry slowly walked up to the base of the tree and placed his white bouquet on top of the pile of assorted colors. "Sirius," Harry whispered as he did this, "I'm really sorry, it's all my fault. I really, really miss you. I guess I'll see you when I get up there. Take good care of my parents for me until I join you." And with that he turned and walked back toward the crowd that was departing, quickly wiping a tear that had slipped down his face as he did so.
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Meanwhile someone else was watching the funeral, but he wasn't up above. Well, maybe he was. Actually, he had no idea where this place was. It was like a jail cell though. There was a bed which squeaked when he lay on it and there was a floor beneath him, but that was it. The rest was a smoky, blue nothingness as far as the eye could see. Well, the archway was here too, but that didn't matter. He had already tried it, the archway, and it was useless. Even though it was probably his key to getting out of this place. He had tried to pull at the veil that was hanging from the archway, but it was stuck shut.
It was quite boring here, worse than Grimmauld Place when no one was there. Every morning he would awake find The Daily Prophet lying on his chest. The first morning he had thrown it aside without taking a second glace only to find that as soon as he did so it burst into flames like a Phoenix. Unlike a Phoenix though, it was not reborn from the ashes, but just disappeared. Sirius was quite disappointed later with nothing to read. From that day on Sirius always read that articles that seemed interesting before throwing that days paper aside. After the newspaper he would sit and think of memories (usually depressing ones), which usually wound him stuck inside the memory until it was over. Once a day a screen would appear out of thin air and he would be forced to tell it the name of someone. The screen then acted as a camera, following that person wherever they went, hearing everything they say and think. Most of the time he would just sit there and watch Harry or Lupin, but sometimes he would check in on the other Order members. It was horrible to watch them suffer.
Today he was watching his own funeral, feeling a bit like that Huck character from muggle books. Or was it Tom? He couldn't remember, it had been a long time since Lupin had made him read the book. His reactions were different for everyone. When Lupin spoke he just sat there, stunned that he had finally confessed, but not mad. As soon as Harry started to speak he jumped off the bed and ran to the floating screen, his hands against it, hanging on his every word.
By the time Harry was finished he had sunk down to the floor, head clutched in his hands. When Dumbldore was done there was silence except for footsteps, so he looked up. Harry was standing all alone while the others placed flowers at the base of his favorite by the lake. When they were gone Harry put his flower on top of the pile the others had made and whispered, "Sirius. I'm really sorry, it's all my fault. I really, really miss you. I guess I'll see you when I get up there. Take good care of my parents for me until I join you."
"No Harry, it's not your fault! It's mine!" he managed to choke out before he sunk onto the floor, crying uncontrollably. It tortured him so much to sit here and watch Harry suffer, but not being able to do anything about it. "Oh god," he sobbed. "Why did I have to do this to him? Why?"
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Back at Grimmauld Place it was the day after the funeral. Harry was sitting on his bed reading The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 5 for the sixth time this summer. Harry got bored of it, so putting down the book he stood up to figure out something else to do. Finally he decided that wandering around may help him think, so he self-consciously headed toward Sirius' old room. Harry was about to round a corner, when something down the hall caught his eye. Something that made him cry out. Nobody else was home, so it was just him against.
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Haven't even started ch. 5 yet, so expect it in a bit. Sorry this one took so long to write, but it ended up being 14 written pages (and my writings pretty small), plus I had a bit of mild writers block. I knew what I wanted to write, but couldn't put it in words. Anyway, Halloween has come and gone, I hope you guys thought even for a second about what happened on that date in 1981, I know I did. Big thank you goes out to GriffinFox, the lone wolf reviewer for chapter 3. If we were to ever meet in The Three Broomsticks, a glass of Butterbeer is on me, or Odgen's Firewhiskey if you prefer. Thanks to all the reviewers from ch. 1 and 2 also, you can have a glass of Butterbeer. Griffinfox, I'm sorry it made you sad, but its glad to know that this story can do that to someone. I've been depressed all week. I keep playing this song over and over that has a sad electric guitar solo in the beginning, and when I listen to it I am forced to play all my Sirius memories (that I read from the books or fan-fics) in my head. If you're interested the song is called Black Balloon, and its by the Goo Goo Dolls, oh no, there it goes again. Well, to all those going to see Looney Toons, you lucky devil, if you haven't already heard there's a PoA trailer. I keep begging my parents to go but they won't let me. Ugh.
Harry had mixed feelings when Saturday finally arrived. He was very happy, he thought, sitting on his bed next to his packed trunk and Hedwig's cage, to finally be getting away from the Dursleys and to be with friends again. (The only witch or wizard he had come in contact with since he had left Hogwarts had been Mrs. Figg, who now had him over for tea at least twice a week, and the occasional Order member, usually Bill Weasley or Tonks, who would accidentally bump into during their nightly watch. None of them were very helpful, though.) But half of him didn't want to be around friends again. Friends who would ask how he was feeling like Ron, Hermione or Lupin. And none of him wanted to go to the funeral. He knew he wasn't ready for either yet. Again Harry found himself thinking, why Sirius? Why did it have to be him?
But Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing, followed by it opening, muffled talking, and Uncle Vernon yelling up the stairs "get down here, boy!" Harry opened his door and walked as slow as possible down the stairs.
"How do you explain this?" Uncle Vernon asked Harry when he finally arrived; making it so that only he could hear as he gestured toward Lupin framed in the open doorway, a nervous smile splayed across is face. Obviously Uncle Vernon was not going to let him in.
"This is Professor Lupin," replied Harry, unable to hide a smirk. Uncle Vernon looked disgustedly at Lupin's shabby robes, as if he thought that someone who wore something like that could not possibly be a professor.
"I'm here to take Harry to-" Lupin began, but was cut off.
"A friend's house for the rest of the summer," finished Harry.
Uncle Vernon looked between the two, knowing something was going on. But instead he rounded on Harry. "You never mentioned someone was taking you," spat Uncle Vernon.
"Oops, must have slipped my mind," replied Harry, staring at him determinately.
"I'll give you a mind slip, boy, if it's the last thing I do!" Lupin moved to grab for his wand, and apparently Uncle Vernon didn't mean the "if it's the last thing I do" part because he quickly spoke up. "Fine then, be off with you!"
"I'll just get my trunk, then," Harry said happily, sprinting up the stairs. When he arrived in his room, Harry grabbed his trunk and lugged it down the stairs.
"See you next summer," Harry said cheerily as he heaved his trunk onto the front porch, his Uncle slamming the door behind him.
"That was pleasant," said Lupin sarcastically as he picked up Harry's trunk and cage, helping him carry it to the corner.
"Knight Bus?" Harry asked. Lupin only nodded and stuck out his wand arm. Almost instantly a BANG sounded and a purple triple-decker bus appeared in front of them.
A conductor in purple stepped down the stairs and started talking. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step-" but upon seeing Harry, abruptly stopped. "'Ey Neville," he said. "'Ere, let me 'elp that." Stan walked over to Harry's trunk, picked it up, and carried it up the bus stairs, Hedwig's cage balanced on top.
Lupin looked quizzically at Harry, but followed Stan up the stairs. "I was on the run from the Ministry, I had to come up with some name," Harry explained as he followed him. That made Lupin chuckle. Harry couldn't remember the last time something even related to a chuckle escaped his throat. Certainly not since Sirius' death. Maybe not even since Cedric's.
Lupin paid Stan and took a seat right behind him and the driver. Harry sat down across from him. "So you didn't tell them that I was taking you?" asked Lupin.
"No," Harry replied.
"Did you tell them about."
"No. They still think he's going to swoop in on them if they treat me badly."
"You have us for that now."
"Yeah, I suppose so. So what's the Or-"
Lupin gave him a warning look to silence him. "I'll tell you when we get there."
The ride "there" was long because of all the stops they had to make along the way, but finally the Knight Bus stopped "two blocks south" as Lupin had told him, of Grimmauld Place. They had to be taken here so that no one would actually know where they were going. As they stepped off the bus Stan said "bye Neville" and in return Harry waved.
But then Harry's attention turned to godfathers funerals and how to act around friends. Because for some reason Harry felt himself shutting down, closing up, wanting to hide his feelings. Not wanting to talk to Lupin or any one else who had been friends with Sirius. He knew this would be a problem, especially with Ron and Hermione. They would want him to tell them all about his feelings, but he wasn't going to let them.
The two blocks walk to Grimmauld Place was in complete silence. When they arrived Lupin activated the house this time and then opened the door. Mrs. Weasley was ready and waiting to greet them both with motherly hugs, Harry's extra hard.
"Oh, Harry!" she said squeezing him. "You poor darling! You poor, poor thing!"
"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied, trying to get out of her strong grip as soon as possible. He didn't appreciate being called a 'poor thing,' he wasn't a poor thing; he could take care of himself. Why did people have to say that, don't they know how annoying it sounds?
When Harry managed to get away from her, he turned around and found himself staring at an empty house, one in which he hated. He hated it because his godfather had hated it. He hated it because of the painting of Mrs. Black that hung on the wall that had scolded Sirius. He hated it because of its emptiness. There were many reasons to hate this house.
Lupin then turned toward Harry and said, "Molly just came here to look after the house while I was gone and to make sure we got back okay. She has to get back to the Burrow soon, so it will just be the two of us, Harry." 'The two of us,' Harry didn't like the sound of that. It probably meant that they would sit down and Lupin would try to make Harry talk about Sirius, something that was not on Harry's to-do list.
"Well I guess I'll take your stuff upstairs, and then I'll be going," Mrs. Weasley said as she put the locmotor charm on Harry's things and took them upstairs, leaving Harry and Lupin alone in the hallway.
"Let's go down to the kitchen and have some dinner," Lupin suggested, finally breaking the silence. Harry made no reply, but followed him down the stairs. When they arrived in the kitchen Harry sat down at the empty table while Lupin went into the pantry, searching for supplies.
Harry sat looking around the room, his eyes finally resting on the mantle over the fireplace. What he saw made his heart stop. No! Pictures when lined up, all showing a beaming Sirius. Pictures from Hogwarts (but none before), pictures before Azkaban, pictures from Harry's parents wedding, and even a few recent ones. There were belongings too, though. A few were letters here and there from people like Dumbldore, James, Lupin, and even him. It appeared that he had kept them all. There were also newspaper clippings from when Sirius had escaped from Azkaban (had that only been three years ago, it felt like an eternity), and personal belongings. It felt like someone had taken a bat to his heart. He didn't want to have to stare at these things every time he sat down to a meal. They dredged up to many memories.
When Lupin finally walked back into the kitchen with a handful of ingredients, he found Harry with his head in his hands, fingers pulling at his hair. He looked more like Sirius more than any time he had before. Upon seeing him like this Lupin whispered, "you are so much like him." Harry just snorted and lifted his head to stare at the mantle. Lupin gave him a that's-just-the-kind-of-thing-he-would-do look, and followed his gaze.
"I see you've noticed my shrine," he said, crossing the room to start dinner on the stove. Harry didn't feel like continuing the conversation, so he just sat quietly while Lupin made dinner.
When Lupin was done he carried the two plates of steaming food to the table, sat down, and passed one to Harry. During the dinner Lupin tried repeatedly to start a new conversation with Harry, never giving up. First he filled him in Order happenings (at least the ones Dumbldore had approved); he could tell by the look on Harry's face that none of it was very interesting to him. Then Lupin asked him questions about his summer and how he was doing, Harry merely replied with things like "good" and "mmm," but stayed as quite as possible. When Harry was done eating he put his dishes in the sink and left the kitchen. He climbed up two flights of stairs to the room he had stayed in last year and collapsed onto the bed with his things in front of it.
"Ah, once again I'm stuck with the enraged teenager," said the familiar voice of Phineas Nigelus in his portrait on the wall. In response Harry threw his pillow at the portrait and drifted off into a fitful sleep.
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The next week passed by slowly. Harry spent most of the time locked up in his room, reading textbooks or just thinking. It was a lot like privet Drive. He came down for meals where Lupin still tried to make him talk, but finished those as quickly as possible. He was glad when Lupin was out, though, so that he could eat in peace. Sometimes Harry went up to feed Buckbeak, who, though it may have been his imagination, seemed to be wondering where Sirius was. At those times he would sit on the windowsill and, not wanting to watch Buckbeak eat, would look at the people walking by who he was glad could not see him, or wonder what the Order members and even Sirius were doing right now.
Saturday eventfully came though, the day of the funeral. Harry sat on his bed and tried to decide between his green dress robes (which looked much nicer) or his usual black ones. Finally he threw on the black ones, deciding they would be more appropriate. Lupin met him at the bottom of the stairs, he too wearing black robes, but also a somber look on his face. They both walked out the door and down two blocks in silence, both having to heavy a heart and too many thoughts on their mind to speak. Lupin signaled the Knight Bus and the two boarded, Lupin paying. Harry was to busy thinking about what lay ahead to notice that Stan wasn't on duty today.
They rode the bus to Hogesmade, because the funeral was to take place at Hogwarts, Harry remembered Lupin telling him. Probably the Sirius was happiest. As Harry stepped down from the bus stairs he made sure not to look at the mountains behind him. He was afraid the memories would force him to cry, and he didn't want to cry in front of Lupin.
They walked across the grounds and up to the lake where everyone else was already congregated. When Hermione saw Harry she immediately ran over and squeezed him round the middle.
"Oh Harry!" she moaned, crying into his chest. Harry, who was caught by surprise, awkwardly patted her on the head. He couldn't help but smile a little though. Since he had gotten over Cho, Harry realized who he had fancied deep down all along.
Ron came over and put a hand on his shoulder. Looking a bit jealous as he glanced at Hermione asked, "how you doing, mate?"
"Okay, I guess," answered Harry. Hermione let go of him and wiped the tears from her eyes. After what she had done Harry decided that if she and Ron didn't want to talk about Sirius to much, he may be able to tolerate them for awhile. The three of them gazed at the lake watching the sunlight flickering across its surface. They weren't really watching it though, their minds were to full of thoughts to just stand there and watch a lake. Harry noticed Lupin had walked over and was now talking to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Hearing his name, he strained his ears to listen in.
"How is he doing?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"Well, he seems a bit depressed," replied Lupin. "How so?" asked Mr. Weasley.
"He wants to be alone all the time and he won't talk to me," replied Lupin.
"Poor dear," muttered Mrs. Weasley. So, thought Harry, they think they can talk about me behind my back, do they?
"Harry?" Hermione asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"What?" Harry snapped, but immediately regret it.
Hermione jumped at his rage but said, "we were just called over."
Harry then noticed that everyone was moving in one direction. Toward the tree. His, Ron, and Hermione's favorite tree. His father, Sirius, Lupin, and the rat's favorite tree. So Harry followed them. They had all formed a ring around the tree so Harry joined in, ending up between Ron and Dumbldore. He glanced up at his headmaster to find his eyes twinkling behind his half moon glasses and that usual look of relaxation on his face. Harry wished he could wipe it off. He then turned his attention to the circle to find all the Weasleys and Order members, excluding of course Percy, Charlie, and Snape.
"I think we should go around and have everyone say something about Sirius," suggested Dumbldore. "Let's start with you Kingsley," he said, indicating Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was just to his right.
"I was head in the hunt for Sirius," Kingsley began. "Until last summer I thought he was a mass murderer like everyone else, but then I found out the truth. Deep down I think I always knew the story was a bit fishy. Sirius was the most fun-loving, kind hearted person man I will ever know and in my heart, that's what he will always be."
Everyone in the circle went round and voiced their thoughts about Sirius. When it came to Tonks she told about what a great cousin he had been when they were little. How he always used to play pranks on everyone and give great Christmas presents, and how he would always find time to play with her when no one else would because they thought she was a freak. She also said that she really missed him.
When it was Lupin's turn Harry made sure to quite his thoughts down so that he could pay attention. "Sirius was my best friend. As a child he was the one who convinced James that I was worthy of their friendship. He always found something to laugh about; otherwise he would make something to laugh about. I would like to share a memory I have that I hope will make you at least smile, because I think that Sirius would be a bit mad if there wasn't laughter at his own funeral. And now I am ready to share a secret that I have kept for years."
"As you know, I am a werewolf, and became one before I started school here. So, once a month I as smuggled out of school so that I could crawl through a tunnel under the Whomping Willow, so that I could change into a monstrous creature in the safety of the Shrieking Shack. I was afraid that when James, Sirius and Peter found out they wouldn't want to be friends anymore, so I didn't tell them. Well, they started to notice that I was gone once a month and got suspicious. James and Sirius were top of the class, very smart, and finally figured it out. Their reaction was a lot different then I thought it would be. They decided that they wanted to go into the shack with me." Mrs. Weasley let out a small gasp. "I knew how dangerous it would be and didn't want them to come, but they insisted. So in out third year the three of them became animagus. Sirius, a bear-sized, black, shaggy dog, and James, a gigantic stag. Peter had some trouble though, and James and Sirius had to help him. You should have seen the look on his face when he finally did it though. His eyes bulged like somebody had squeezed him, but you could definitely tell he was disappointed when he found out that he was a rat." That, like Lupin had said he hoped, raised some laughter.
"Those three helped make my changes easier, until finally I was able to leave the shack with them and have the run of the grounds. Afterwards they would sometimes tell me that I had attacked one of them, usually James, but the other, usually Sirius, would protect them. And that's what I think Sirius was to us all, a protector."
When Lupin was done, it kept moving around the circle. Hermione said that she hoped Sirius was okay, wherever he was, and how good of a friend he had been the past two years. When it was Ron's turn he also said that Sirius had been a good friend and how grateful he was for Pig. Harry was next. When Ron finished all attention turned toward him. Even those he knew hadn't been paying attention now had their eyes on him. Harry looked at Lupin, who gave him a nod of encouragement. I don't need your stupid encouragement, thought Harry, but took a deep breath and started.
"Sirius was much more than a godfather. He was a friend, someone who cared, a joker, someone who understood, and one of a kind. He was wrongly charged for a crime just because he wanted revenge on the people who killed his friends, my parents, and because of that he had to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban and on the run from the law. Sirius was someone you could always count on. He was serious when he needed to be, but would always make us laugh, even when we thought there was nothing to laugh about."
"His laugh was like a dog bark, I'll never forget it. I'll never forget the first time I saw him either. He scared me while in his dog form near Privet Drive. Or the time he came to my quidditch match to see if I played as good as my dad. I think we should all cherish our memories of Sirius because, besides photos, it's all we have left of him."
Harry wasn't quite sure where that had come from, because he hadn't practiced ahead of time. It was like the words had been sitting there all the time, just waiting to escape his throat. Harry looked over at Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Hermione who were all crying, and then at Lupin who had silent tears streaming down his face. Weaklings, thought Harry. Of course he cried, but never in front of others, that showed weakness.
Harry made sure to quiet his thoughts down again so that he could hear what Dumbldore had to say. "Sirius was a courageous man. He died to save his godson as he would have for his friends. He was the kind of person who was always either laughing or making other people laugh. He was a lot to all of us. I just hope all of you will take some time out every once in awhile to remember Sirius. But don't remember the man in which the veil swallowed up, remember the man who was a hero to us all. A man who rarely cried, but always laughed. A man who was encouraging, and hopeful, and brave. But most of all remember the dog that he was inside. Now, I think that flowers would be in order." And with that Dumbldore conjured into everyone's hands.
Harry looked down and saw that he now held white flowers of some sort. He watched as everyone else walked up the beach tree and placed their flowers at the trunk. When they had all drifted away Harry slowly walked up to the base of the tree and placed his white bouquet on top of the pile of assorted colors. "Sirius," Harry whispered as he did this, "I'm really sorry, it's all my fault. I really, really miss you. I guess I'll see you when I get up there. Take good care of my parents for me until I join you." And with that he turned and walked back toward the crowd that was departing, quickly wiping a tear that had slipped down his face as he did so.
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Meanwhile someone else was watching the funeral, but he wasn't up above. Well, maybe he was. Actually, he had no idea where this place was. It was like a jail cell though. There was a bed which squeaked when he lay on it and there was a floor beneath him, but that was it. The rest was a smoky, blue nothingness as far as the eye could see. Well, the archway was here too, but that didn't matter. He had already tried it, the archway, and it was useless. Even though it was probably his key to getting out of this place. He had tried to pull at the veil that was hanging from the archway, but it was stuck shut.
It was quite boring here, worse than Grimmauld Place when no one was there. Every morning he would awake find The Daily Prophet lying on his chest. The first morning he had thrown it aside without taking a second glace only to find that as soon as he did so it burst into flames like a Phoenix. Unlike a Phoenix though, it was not reborn from the ashes, but just disappeared. Sirius was quite disappointed later with nothing to read. From that day on Sirius always read that articles that seemed interesting before throwing that days paper aside. After the newspaper he would sit and think of memories (usually depressing ones), which usually wound him stuck inside the memory until it was over. Once a day a screen would appear out of thin air and he would be forced to tell it the name of someone. The screen then acted as a camera, following that person wherever they went, hearing everything they say and think. Most of the time he would just sit there and watch Harry or Lupin, but sometimes he would check in on the other Order members. It was horrible to watch them suffer.
Today he was watching his own funeral, feeling a bit like that Huck character from muggle books. Or was it Tom? He couldn't remember, it had been a long time since Lupin had made him read the book. His reactions were different for everyone. When Lupin spoke he just sat there, stunned that he had finally confessed, but not mad. As soon as Harry started to speak he jumped off the bed and ran to the floating screen, his hands against it, hanging on his every word.
By the time Harry was finished he had sunk down to the floor, head clutched in his hands. When Dumbldore was done there was silence except for footsteps, so he looked up. Harry was standing all alone while the others placed flowers at the base of his favorite by the lake. When they were gone Harry put his flower on top of the pile the others had made and whispered, "Sirius. I'm really sorry, it's all my fault. I really, really miss you. I guess I'll see you when I get up there. Take good care of my parents for me until I join you."
"No Harry, it's not your fault! It's mine!" he managed to choke out before he sunk onto the floor, crying uncontrollably. It tortured him so much to sit here and watch Harry suffer, but not being able to do anything about it. "Oh god," he sobbed. "Why did I have to do this to him? Why?"
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Back at Grimmauld Place it was the day after the funeral. Harry was sitting on his bed reading The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 5 for the sixth time this summer. Harry got bored of it, so putting down the book he stood up to figure out something else to do. Finally he decided that wandering around may help him think, so he self-consciously headed toward Sirius' old room. Harry was about to round a corner, when something down the hall caught his eye. Something that made him cry out. Nobody else was home, so it was just him against.
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Haven't even started ch. 5 yet, so expect it in a bit. Sorry this one took so long to write, but it ended up being 14 written pages (and my writings pretty small), plus I had a bit of mild writers block. I knew what I wanted to write, but couldn't put it in words. Anyway, Halloween has come and gone, I hope you guys thought even for a second about what happened on that date in 1981, I know I did. Big thank you goes out to GriffinFox, the lone wolf reviewer for chapter 3. If we were to ever meet in The Three Broomsticks, a glass of Butterbeer is on me, or Odgen's Firewhiskey if you prefer. Thanks to all the reviewers from ch. 1 and 2 also, you can have a glass of Butterbeer. Griffinfox, I'm sorry it made you sad, but its glad to know that this story can do that to someone. I've been depressed all week. I keep playing this song over and over that has a sad electric guitar solo in the beginning, and when I listen to it I am forced to play all my Sirius memories (that I read from the books or fan-fics) in my head. If you're interested the song is called Black Balloon, and its by the Goo Goo Dolls, oh no, there it goes again. Well, to all those going to see Looney Toons, you lucky devil, if you haven't already heard there's a PoA trailer. I keep begging my parents to go but they won't let me. Ugh.