REGRET (the aftermath of the 5th year)
Chapter 7
Harry was standing outside 12 Grimmauld place. He didn't know how he'd gotten there, but here was there now, staring at the front door.
Open it, a voice yelled in the back of his head. But I don't want to, he replied to it. Open the door! The voice yelled again, and suddenly his hand was pulled to the handle on the door. He tried to pull his hand away but it wouldn't budge, so he turned the handle instead and pushed the door open. When he had gone in all the way he was able to pull his hand away, but when he tried to walk back out, the door slammed shut, and wouldn't open.
"Fine!" he yelled at the house, "You win, ok!" then he kicked the door. The house was dark, quiet, and cold, so cold. He overlapped the front of his robes so it was on more tightly, and then crossed his arms in front of his trying to get warm. The silence in the house was deafening and scared him. He walked over to the wall next to him, grateful for the noise his feet made when he walked, then leaned against it, lowered his head, and closed his eyes; his arms still wrapped tightly around him. What am I doing here? He thought, I don't want to be here. The silence was broken when he heard a creak from the stairs, and his eyes shot open. As he looked at the staircase, he heard it again; someone was coming down. His heart began pounding is his chest; he took a step back with every sound until he hit the wall that was behind him. He turned and grabbed onto the front door knob and used both his hands to try to turn it, but it was locked.
He pulled out his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the knob, "Alohomora," he said frantically, "Alohomora! ALOHOMORA!! Open, dammit!" but the door remained shut. He put his wand back in his pocket and pounded on the door with the sides of his fists saying, "Open! Please, open!"
"Harry?" he heard behind him. He hadn't realized it but the footsteps had stopped, not that he did, he froze. "Harry, is that you?" it continued. Although the voice sounded familiar, it still scared him and he began to shake. Slowly he turned to look over his shoulder. When he saw who it was his eyes widened with horror and confusion, and he turned around all the way to face him.
"S-Sirius?" he said, and then began to shake even more. It looked like him, but it couldn't be.
"Yes, Harry?" replied the man.
"No," he said in disbelief, "no, no." he continued, shaking his head, trying to back away, but not being able to because the door still wouldn't open, "You can't be, you-you're not."
"What are you talking about? Not what?" he said.
"You're not Sirius!!" he yelled at the imposter. "You're, he-he's dead." Tears were beginning to well up in Harry's eyes; this was cruel, beyond cruel to him. To see Sirius again would've been great, if he wasn't dead. And it couldn't be a ghost; this-this person was too real, to solid to be a ghost. This was a trick, or a joke; a horrible joke.
"Dead?! I'm not dead, I'm right here." He said, taking a step toward Harry.
"Stop!" he yelled, he was still shaking violently, still frightened beyond words. Having to remember that Sirius was dead, while seeing him, or someone who looked like him, alive and well in front of him was painful, and confusing, and the tears continued to well in his eyes. He blinked to clear his vision and the tears rolled down the side of his face. He couldn't take this much longer.
"Harry," he said with what sounded like concern, "Harry, what's wrong?" then took another step toward Harry.
"NO!!" said Harry again, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the man, "Don't come near me!"
"Harry, it's me; it's me, Sirius." He said, sounding sincere, but Harry wouldn't fall for it, and looked away, shaking his head, tears still rolling down his face. "Harry, look at me." But he couldn't, his chest hurt from fighting the urge to break down, his throat too. "Look at me." He repeated. Harry continued to look away for a moment, and then turned his head slightly to look at the face of the man who claimed to be Sirius. "It's me, Harry."
Maybe it is him, Harry thought, it looks so much like him, and sounds like him, but how? Slowly, he began to lower his wand. Sirius smiled and Harry's fear disappeared.
"Is, is that really you?" Harry said, still with some disbelief.
"Of course it is, who else would it be?" he replied, with a slight laugh in his voice. Harry was smiling as well now; he couldn't believe it. He wanted to run over and give Sirius a hug, make sure he was really there.
But suddenly, Sirius lurched forward; like he'd been pushed, his expression became blank, and he fell to the ground. Harry's smile quickly disappeared, and he stared down at Sirius on the floor, who wasn't moving.
"Sirius?" he said, but got no response, no movement. He took a few steps forward then dropped to his knees next to him. "Sirius??" he said again, placing his hand on Sirius's shoulder, shaking it. Nothing, no reaction. "Come on, this isn't funny." He said still shaking his shoulder; hoping he would move suddenly on his own, but he didn't, and Harry began to cry again. "Open your eyes, please, don't do this, don't die again!" but his pleading got no reaction. Harry dropped his head, and covered his face with his hands. "Please, not again." His shoulders shook and a lump began to form in his throat. This was too much, too painful; he had been pushed beyond his limit, he wasn't trying to hold back anymore, and he broke down.
"Ah, poor little, Harry." He heard a voice say, sarcastically, coming from the stairs. "How sad, you had to see your godfather die, AGAIN." Harry lowered his hands and looked in the direction of the voice, whoever it was he couldn't see their face, only their mouth, the rest was covered by the cloak they were wearing.
The man made a fake sad look, and then started laughing. "I'm sorry I had to do that," he said, pointing at Sirius' body with his wand, "But for a second there you looked happy, and you know we can't have that." Then he smiled again, as if it was nothing.
Harry looked down at Sirius, then back at the man, "you-you mean, you killed-"
"Yes, Harry, I killed him." He said, as if the question annoyed him. "But what did he think he was doing, being alive like that, getting your hopes up. He should have just stayed dead and saved you a lot of grief." Then he smirked at Harry.
Harry stood up fast, his fist clenched, "How dare you!" he yelled, "HOW DARE YOU!!" the rushed the man and slammed him into the wall. But suddenly he felt the pain in his own back, like he had been slammed into it instead, it surprised his but he ignored it. "How dare you act like killing him was nothing!!"
"It was nothing," he replied, laughing again, "I just pointed my wand at him and said 'Avada-'"
"SHUT UP!!" Harry yelled, then socked him in the jaw. But again, he felt the pain in his own jaw and could feel the blood in his own mouth. He covered his mouth with his hands and took a step back from the man, whose head was still turned to the side from getting hit.
"Nice hit." He said, turning his head to look at Harry. He spit some blood onto the floor, and then continued to smile. "I was just doing you a favor, you know. If your too happy, it will be that much harder to take the bad things that always happen to you. But you have to admit that was funny, I mean one second he was all alive and happy, and then BAM he's dead." He started laughing again, Harry filled with rage at this.
"Stop it!" he yelled through his hands, then dropped them, pulled his wand out again, and pointed it at the man's chest, "Stop laughing!!" Harry yelled again, but he wouldn't and ignore him. 'CRUCIO!" Harry yelled, then suddenly every part of his body was in pain, indescribable pain and he fell to the ground. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, and closed his eyes as much as he could. He didn't want to move, he couldn't believe the pain he was in. Finally, it started to subside and he slowly opened his eyes. He could see that the man was hit by it but was now pulling himself up, still laughing to himself. Harry knew he had to get up too, because staying on the ground would make him and easy target, so he rolled onto his knees and slowly pushed himself up.
When he was standing he looked the man, Harry was breathing in and out quickly, his arms at his sides. "Who are you?" he asked, between a breath. The man didn't respond, but he did stop laughing and continued to smile at Harry. "Answer me!!" he yelled, but he just smiled. Harry had, had enough; he walked over to him, grabbed the front of the hood and threw it back. His eyes widened and he stumbled backwards, "No." he said quietly in disbelief. He was looking at himself, his own face. He began shaking his head, "no." he repeated. His other self continued to smile, walked up to Harry, and looked him straight in the eyes, "BOO!"
Harry's eyes shot open and he sat up in his bed. He stomach lurched and he raced to the bathroom cause he had to throw up. He felt like crap, and when he pulled himself up to look in the mirror in the bathroom, he could see his eyes were bloodshot from crying. He had to go really close to the mirror to see this since he didn't have his glasses on, luckily the bathroom was right there and he could get to it with them. Emotionally, he was exhausted; he didn't know what to feel anymore. He took a few steps back; until he hit the wall, then slide down so he was sitting. Then he tilted his head back onto the wall so he was looking at the ceiling. "Just a dream." He said to himself, "It was just a dream." He repeated this over and over in his head, trying to convince himself that is wasn't real.
He knew he couldn't stay here any longer; he'd have to leave, now. He knew Lupin was probably going to come back, and it would only cause Harry to have more stress and more nightmares. Why had he thought staying one more night would be ok, probably because he really didn't want to leave, but now he had no choice. He took a deep breath in and out, then pulled himself up with the wall, and walked back to the room to get his things together, to leave once again.
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Chapter 7
Harry was standing outside 12 Grimmauld place. He didn't know how he'd gotten there, but here was there now, staring at the front door.
Open it, a voice yelled in the back of his head. But I don't want to, he replied to it. Open the door! The voice yelled again, and suddenly his hand was pulled to the handle on the door. He tried to pull his hand away but it wouldn't budge, so he turned the handle instead and pushed the door open. When he had gone in all the way he was able to pull his hand away, but when he tried to walk back out, the door slammed shut, and wouldn't open.
"Fine!" he yelled at the house, "You win, ok!" then he kicked the door. The house was dark, quiet, and cold, so cold. He overlapped the front of his robes so it was on more tightly, and then crossed his arms in front of his trying to get warm. The silence in the house was deafening and scared him. He walked over to the wall next to him, grateful for the noise his feet made when he walked, then leaned against it, lowered his head, and closed his eyes; his arms still wrapped tightly around him. What am I doing here? He thought, I don't want to be here. The silence was broken when he heard a creak from the stairs, and his eyes shot open. As he looked at the staircase, he heard it again; someone was coming down. His heart began pounding is his chest; he took a step back with every sound until he hit the wall that was behind him. He turned and grabbed onto the front door knob and used both his hands to try to turn it, but it was locked.
He pulled out his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the knob, "Alohomora," he said frantically, "Alohomora! ALOHOMORA!! Open, dammit!" but the door remained shut. He put his wand back in his pocket and pounded on the door with the sides of his fists saying, "Open! Please, open!"
"Harry?" he heard behind him. He hadn't realized it but the footsteps had stopped, not that he did, he froze. "Harry, is that you?" it continued. Although the voice sounded familiar, it still scared him and he began to shake. Slowly he turned to look over his shoulder. When he saw who it was his eyes widened with horror and confusion, and he turned around all the way to face him.
"S-Sirius?" he said, and then began to shake even more. It looked like him, but it couldn't be.
"Yes, Harry?" replied the man.
"No," he said in disbelief, "no, no." he continued, shaking his head, trying to back away, but not being able to because the door still wouldn't open, "You can't be, you-you're not."
"What are you talking about? Not what?" he said.
"You're not Sirius!!" he yelled at the imposter. "You're, he-he's dead." Tears were beginning to well up in Harry's eyes; this was cruel, beyond cruel to him. To see Sirius again would've been great, if he wasn't dead. And it couldn't be a ghost; this-this person was too real, to solid to be a ghost. This was a trick, or a joke; a horrible joke.
"Dead?! I'm not dead, I'm right here." He said, taking a step toward Harry.
"Stop!" he yelled, he was still shaking violently, still frightened beyond words. Having to remember that Sirius was dead, while seeing him, or someone who looked like him, alive and well in front of him was painful, and confusing, and the tears continued to well in his eyes. He blinked to clear his vision and the tears rolled down the side of his face. He couldn't take this much longer.
"Harry," he said with what sounded like concern, "Harry, what's wrong?" then took another step toward Harry.
"NO!!" said Harry again, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the man, "Don't come near me!"
"Harry, it's me; it's me, Sirius." He said, sounding sincere, but Harry wouldn't fall for it, and looked away, shaking his head, tears still rolling down his face. "Harry, look at me." But he couldn't, his chest hurt from fighting the urge to break down, his throat too. "Look at me." He repeated. Harry continued to look away for a moment, and then turned his head slightly to look at the face of the man who claimed to be Sirius. "It's me, Harry."
Maybe it is him, Harry thought, it looks so much like him, and sounds like him, but how? Slowly, he began to lower his wand. Sirius smiled and Harry's fear disappeared.
"Is, is that really you?" Harry said, still with some disbelief.
"Of course it is, who else would it be?" he replied, with a slight laugh in his voice. Harry was smiling as well now; he couldn't believe it. He wanted to run over and give Sirius a hug, make sure he was really there.
But suddenly, Sirius lurched forward; like he'd been pushed, his expression became blank, and he fell to the ground. Harry's smile quickly disappeared, and he stared down at Sirius on the floor, who wasn't moving.
"Sirius?" he said, but got no response, no movement. He took a few steps forward then dropped to his knees next to him. "Sirius??" he said again, placing his hand on Sirius's shoulder, shaking it. Nothing, no reaction. "Come on, this isn't funny." He said still shaking his shoulder; hoping he would move suddenly on his own, but he didn't, and Harry began to cry again. "Open your eyes, please, don't do this, don't die again!" but his pleading got no reaction. Harry dropped his head, and covered his face with his hands. "Please, not again." His shoulders shook and a lump began to form in his throat. This was too much, too painful; he had been pushed beyond his limit, he wasn't trying to hold back anymore, and he broke down.
"Ah, poor little, Harry." He heard a voice say, sarcastically, coming from the stairs. "How sad, you had to see your godfather die, AGAIN." Harry lowered his hands and looked in the direction of the voice, whoever it was he couldn't see their face, only their mouth, the rest was covered by the cloak they were wearing.
The man made a fake sad look, and then started laughing. "I'm sorry I had to do that," he said, pointing at Sirius' body with his wand, "But for a second there you looked happy, and you know we can't have that." Then he smiled again, as if it was nothing.
Harry looked down at Sirius, then back at the man, "you-you mean, you killed-"
"Yes, Harry, I killed him." He said, as if the question annoyed him. "But what did he think he was doing, being alive like that, getting your hopes up. He should have just stayed dead and saved you a lot of grief." Then he smirked at Harry.
Harry stood up fast, his fist clenched, "How dare you!" he yelled, "HOW DARE YOU!!" the rushed the man and slammed him into the wall. But suddenly he felt the pain in his own back, like he had been slammed into it instead, it surprised his but he ignored it. "How dare you act like killing him was nothing!!"
"It was nothing," he replied, laughing again, "I just pointed my wand at him and said 'Avada-'"
"SHUT UP!!" Harry yelled, then socked him in the jaw. But again, he felt the pain in his own jaw and could feel the blood in his own mouth. He covered his mouth with his hands and took a step back from the man, whose head was still turned to the side from getting hit.
"Nice hit." He said, turning his head to look at Harry. He spit some blood onto the floor, and then continued to smile. "I was just doing you a favor, you know. If your too happy, it will be that much harder to take the bad things that always happen to you. But you have to admit that was funny, I mean one second he was all alive and happy, and then BAM he's dead." He started laughing again, Harry filled with rage at this.
"Stop it!" he yelled through his hands, then dropped them, pulled his wand out again, and pointed it at the man's chest, "Stop laughing!!" Harry yelled again, but he wouldn't and ignore him. 'CRUCIO!" Harry yelled, then suddenly every part of his body was in pain, indescribable pain and he fell to the ground. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, and closed his eyes as much as he could. He didn't want to move, he couldn't believe the pain he was in. Finally, it started to subside and he slowly opened his eyes. He could see that the man was hit by it but was now pulling himself up, still laughing to himself. Harry knew he had to get up too, because staying on the ground would make him and easy target, so he rolled onto his knees and slowly pushed himself up.
When he was standing he looked the man, Harry was breathing in and out quickly, his arms at his sides. "Who are you?" he asked, between a breath. The man didn't respond, but he did stop laughing and continued to smile at Harry. "Answer me!!" he yelled, but he just smiled. Harry had, had enough; he walked over to him, grabbed the front of the hood and threw it back. His eyes widened and he stumbled backwards, "No." he said quietly in disbelief. He was looking at himself, his own face. He began shaking his head, "no." he repeated. His other self continued to smile, walked up to Harry, and looked him straight in the eyes, "BOO!"
Harry's eyes shot open and he sat up in his bed. He stomach lurched and he raced to the bathroom cause he had to throw up. He felt like crap, and when he pulled himself up to look in the mirror in the bathroom, he could see his eyes were bloodshot from crying. He had to go really close to the mirror to see this since he didn't have his glasses on, luckily the bathroom was right there and he could get to it with them. Emotionally, he was exhausted; he didn't know what to feel anymore. He took a few steps back; until he hit the wall, then slide down so he was sitting. Then he tilted his head back onto the wall so he was looking at the ceiling. "Just a dream." He said to himself, "It was just a dream." He repeated this over and over in his head, trying to convince himself that is wasn't real.
He knew he couldn't stay here any longer; he'd have to leave, now. He knew Lupin was probably going to come back, and it would only cause Harry to have more stress and more nightmares. Why had he thought staying one more night would be ok, probably because he really didn't want to leave, but now he had no choice. He took a deep breath in and out, then pulled himself up with the wall, and walked back to the room to get his things together, to leave once again.
***