Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the highest earning author ever. Take a minute to let that soak in. Last year she earned over $211 million (125m pounds). That works out to $658 for each word in Order of the Phoenix. Can anyone even comprehend that much money? I can't. This story, according to MS Word, is 49,135 words without disclaimers or author's notes. That amounts to $32,330,830 if I got $658 per word. Now, I'm pretty sure I don't have that much money. I'd like to think I'd notice something like that. Hell, I'd be dumbfounded if I got a dollar per word, or even a penny! But, the sad truth is, I get no money for this. In fact, I have to pay the electricity bill that runs my computer, so I guess I get negative money to write. Ok, I think I'm done with that. Oh, I never actually said it: I don't own anything you read here. It's all JKR's and her associates'. (Source: www. hpana. com the news section)
A/N: Hi everybody! Long time, no post. Thank the scientists for leap year or I wouldn't have posted in February. Sad, I know. Have you ever had one of those days where a tiny part of you thinks it wouldn't be so bad if that bus driver didn't see you in the road? Well, that's kind of how this month has gone. Yuck. Hopefully, it's better from here on out, but I get the feeling I'll have even less time for writing. Disgusting, isn't it? Ok, well, I gotta get this posted or I never will.
Oh yeah, and being emailed by electric companies for more chapters is pretty neat… maybe I could get free power… wait, would that be considered paid for the writing? Damn. Someday I'll be original and write my own story, but until then, I love this world and can't seem to leave it!
Chapter 12: August 12th (I think)
Having fallen asleep without taking dreamless sleep potion, Harry had continuous nightmares of both Creevey brothers. Pictures of their deaths flew through his mind, even though he hadn't actually seen either. He'd only witnessed Colin being tortured, but not murdered, although he had felt it, and he didn't see anything of Dennis except the end result. That didn't stop images from forming in his mind, though. Over and over he saw these, until everything suddenly stopped.
~~~
Looking around, Harry found himself in the mental ward of the hospital again. Was this better than watching the deaths of his friends? He didn't know, because it was hard to remember anything of what had happened to them. Finally all memory of recent events was gone as he looked around.
The walls around him were flat and dull. There didn't seem to be anyone outside his room, unlike other times when there had been nurses and orderlies scurrying around. Futilely, he tried searching for a way out, like he had done every time he'd been stuck in this place.
"Hello?" he called with his face against the window.
He didn't see anyone, but he could hear footsteps coming closer. Soon, a man came into view. It was Dr. Stevens. He looked the same as he always did when he came to see Harry. White coat, small smile, and coffee cup characterized him in Harry's mind, since he could never fully focus on the man's face. He stopped outside the door to speak.
"Hello, Mr. Potter. How are you feeling today?"
"Fine, I guess. I have this feeling that something has happened – something bad, but I can't figure out what it was. Do you know anything about it doctor?" Harry asked. He hadn't made any progress in getting out by being rude to the man, so he decided to be polite and ask simple questions. Maybe if he pretended to go along with his 'therapy' the doctor would let him out.
"Search your memories, Mr. Potter. You will find what you seek." Harry found this to be a rather cryptic answer, but he nodded and tried to remember anything odd or unusual happening.
Fleeting images of a young man, a boy, being tortured appeared before his eyes. Sadly, it was nothing out of the ordinary for Harry to see. Then memories of Hogwarts, while playing Quidditch, and someone snapping photos were brought to mind. He concentrated a little harder and saw two young brothers trying to charm buttons for him. The Creevey brothers, then, but what about them? The original view of torture resurfaced, then everything came rushing back. Colin being cursed; Dennis being… Harry actually stumbled and fell to the ground from the force of the memories.
Dull green eyes looked up at the doctor. "They're dead," he said simply.
"Yes, Mr. Potter, they are. Why do you think that is? Whose fault is it?"
With a guilt-ridden expression and a tiny voice, Harry answered, "Mine. It's my fault. If they hadn't known me, they would be fine now."
The doctor nodded sadly, giving his patient some time.
"Wait," said Harry as he realized something, "When I saw that, I was outside. I remember falling down a hill… Sirius followed me and helped me!"
"Black is dead!" the doctor hissed, tightening his hold on the coffee cup. Regaining control, he said, "Accept it. You led him into danger, and he is dead because of it. You caused that, and if not for you, those boys would still be alive with their loving family, or are you going to try and convince me that they are alive like your godfather? Another family is ruined, just like those Diggorys and your muggle relatives who never wanted the burden of having you. All you do when you deny Black's death is bring pain to those who knew him. Now tell me, do you wish to stop causing those around you to hurt?"
Harry nodded slowly, falling further under the weight of his guilt. He didn't think he could stand again if he tried. He was choking on suppressed sobs and curled himself into a ball on the floor. He couldn't do this anymore. It was too much to live with the guilt and confusion. He knew that Sirius was alive somehow, but the doubt was overpowering, especially since his godfather had not even come to see him in this place. Everyone else important to him had, if only once, but Sirius hadn't come at all.
Without opening his eye, Harry heard the doctor walk in and begin talking again. "If you would like help out of this situation, this life, I am qualified to do so. I can help you be with Sirius Black and your parents again."
Was he saying what it sounded like he was? Harry looked up at him and asked weakly, "You mean you are going to kill me?"
The doctor gave him a sad smile, which was as cold and unfeeling as the blue smile on his coffee cup. "It is legal in the Wizarding world to die if you wish in the case that you are suffering. Normally, it is meant in the physical sense if your condition will not improve. However, if you feel that your life is such that it is too terrible to bear and will never get better, then it is your choice whether to end it or not. I'll be waiting when you make a decision."
Harry just stared in shock, then slumped down and buried his face in his hands and cried silently. Of course he felt guilty for everything that had happened because he was him. However, did he really want to die because of it? He never chose to be Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Is it really his fault, as the doctor confirmed? He cried himself to sleep in a corner of his little hospital room after the doctor left.
~~~
Harry opened his eyes when he was shaken awake. He looked up into Sirius's eyes and tried to look away. He couldn't though. He was looking through Sirius's eyes and out the window of the door of his hospital room. He could see people milling around outside his room. Even as he stared the images faded.
"What…?" Harry started. He knew once he woke up what had happened, or he thought he did. He was sure he had one of those dreams again. But he was less confused when he saw Sirius this time. Somehow, seeing bits of the dream in Sirius's eyes made him realize that it was just that – a dream.
"Harry? Are you alright? Do you want me to go get Remus?" Sirius asked quietly.
Harry nodded, and Sirius's expression turned sad. Harry knew that Sirius must think he didn't know if he was alive again, so he rushed to explain. "Sirius, I know you're here." The older man smiled again and looked relieved. "I just have some questions, and I thought Remus might be able to help as well… I don't want many people to know about this though, but I have a feeling you're going to tell Professor Dumbledore anyway. I'll explain when you come back."
Sirius nodded, looking a little unsure, and left the room.
Harry tried to calm his breathing from the nightmare and relax. He hoped he could get some answers soon. He was still in quite a bit of pain from his injuries, but he focused on his breathing to ignore it. He had his eyes closed and was breathing methodically when Sirius and Remus entered.
"Hi, Harry. How are you feeling?" asked Remus.
Harry opened his eyes and said, "I'm okay, I guess. Well, my chest hurts a little, but it's not a big deal." In fact the pain in his chest had been growing since he awoke, along with pain in his muscles all over. It seemed that the two older men were beginning to understand Harry a little better, because they both reached for a potion and Harry took it without question. They knew that he wouldn't say anything unless the pain was fairly severe.
They waited a few moments for the potions to work, and Harry visibly relaxed.
"Wow, I didn't know it hurt that much…" Harry muttered to himself, but the other two heard as well and shared a sad look. "Oh, stop it you two. I get hurt all the time, it's no big deal." Harry held up a hand to stop Sirius's protests. "Never mind that for now. I have some questions about dreams if it's ok…" Harry was suddenly very nervous about the questions he needed to ask and the reactions of his family, being Sirius and Remus.
"Of course it's ok. If we know the answers we'll be sure to tell you, and if we don't we'll find out. Go ahead," urged Remus.
"Ok, erm… I heard once that if you die in a dream you'll die in real life. Is that true?"
Sirius looked alarmed, so Remus decided to answer.
"I've heard that too, but it has never been confirmed. When someone dies during their sleep, it's impossible to know if it was due to a dream or some other cause. Why do you need to know, Harry?" Remus asked curiously. Harry was glad that Remus was there. The way he answered and asked questions like a professor made things easier to deal with. Sirius tended to do everything from an emotional standpoint, whereas Remus seemed to have a scholarly interest.
"Well… you know about my dreams right?" Remus nodded affirmatively. "Well, I didn't tell you everything about them, Sirius… Er, do you know where my journal is?" Sirius nodded, looking confused at the change of subject. "Could you go get it? I'll open it and let you read about the dreams… I had been writing all of them down. This will make more sense if you know about the others."
"Alright, Harry, if you're sure. I think it's still in yours and Ron's room. I'll be right back." Sirius left, closing the door behind him.
"Do you need anything, Harry? Some water, perhaps?" asked Remus.
"Yes, please. I'm a little hungry too, I think. So, maybe later we can get something to eat?"
"Sure thing, I'm glad you're feeling hungry. We've been giving you nutrient potions, but they aren't as good as the real thing. They don't taste all that great either," Remus said with a smile.
Sirius came in and handed Harry his journal and a quill, already inked. Harry wrote his password in and turned to the start of his dreams.
"Er, just so you know, I write a lot of random things in there… some of it might seem a little mental," he said with a nervous grin.
"Perfectly normal. You should read my journal, completely nutters," reassured Remus. Sirius nodded in agreement. "And how would you know what my journal is like, Mr. Padfoot?"
"I – I only guessed, Mr. Moony. Never read it or anything if that's what you're implying," Sirius answered with a wink to Harry. Harry laughed lightly. He couldn't get enough of their childish antics, especially when he was feeling a little uneasy.
Everyone quieted down and Sirius and Remus started reading the journal together. They looked more upset with each entry. Harry was having second thoughts as to whether he should have had them read it or not. Well, it's too late now, he thought to himself. They're really going to think I'm truly crazy this time.
Harry waited, not quite patiently, for the two to finish. He was exceedingly nervous to tell them about the latest dream. This was by far the most he had ever revealed to anyone about what went on inside of him. He told himself that he just needed to trust them. Consciously, he knew they would never hurt him in any way, but he still had trouble trusting people, especially adults. Having never had reasonable adult role models, he couldn't help but think that they were a bit useless for the most part. He had only ever relied on himself, and things tended to work out more or less ok. However, the night at the Ministry had changed that thinking somewhat. He knew that if he had counted on adults to handle things, he wouldn't have put everyone he loved in danger. Of course, because of adults he didn't know what was going on or the severity of his visions until it was too late.
Movement out of the corner of his eye cut off his train of thought. They were finished reading and didn't look too happy.
"Why didn't you tell anyone about these?" asked Sirius in an anguished voice.
"I did, I told you," Harry replied indignantly.
"You hardly told me anything about this! You said you were confused. You said that in your dreams people didn't know I was alive. You never said that you had been committed and some psycho doctor was keeping you locked up! You never said that everyone had just left you there. Why?"
Harry fidgeted in the bed. "I didn't want to bother you with it. I had told you what was wrong… I was confused. I didn't think I needed to say anymore than that." Very quietly he added, "I was embarrassed or ashamed or something..." Harry had never been very good at revealing his negative feelings, other than anger.
Before anyone said anything else, Sirius leaned down and gave Harry a surprisingly gentle, but meaningful, hug. They sat that way for some time. Then Sirius sat back on the bed facing him where Remus joined the two.
"Why did you need us to read this now?" asked Remus.
"Well, it's gotten… a little worse. Although, this time when I woke up I knew that it had been a dream. I knew Sirius was real as soon as I saw him. But I also saw part of the dream in his eyes. It's gone now, but you know the window in my door in the dreams?" They nodded. He had described it in detail in his journal and how he tried to break it or shout through it, but the only person who ever acknowledged him was the doctor. He forced himself to stop thinking about that and continued, "Well, when I looked in Sirius's eyes when I woke up, it was like I was looking through that window. So, the dream and real world were the same or something. Arg, I'm getting of the topic. I wanted to know what would happen here if I died in the dream."
"Why do you need to know this? What happened in your last dream?"
"The doctor… he said that he could help me if I wanted out of my situation, my life. He said that I was allowed to chose whether I live or die. I don't want to die, I know that here. But in there, it's so hard. He says things and they make sense. Like about Dennis and Colin and Cedric… and you, Sirius. I know it's my fault, but I don't want to die I don't think. But if it stops anyone else from… I just don't know. What do I do?" he asked in a small voice.
"Oh, Harry, it's not your fault. None of that is. It's the fault of a maniac who thinks he's above everyone just because he's willing to do despicable things. You are not at fault at all. Don't listen to that doctor, or whoever he is. It's just a dream, Harry," Sirius said, trying to stay calm.
"I know that, Sirius. I know, now, that it's just a dream. I know he's not right, at least about the part that I should die. I have to kill Voldemort first, but it doesn't help to point that out here when I'm awake. I need to know that when I'm dreaming. When I'm in that hospital with the doctor. It's like I'm drowning and you're describing the water to me.* Knowing here and in the dream are two different things. Is there any way you can help in there?" Harry asked timidly. He didn't ask for help often or easily, but he knew that he needed some here. He felt himself starting to consider the doctors offer in that last dream. He didn't want to take the chance that he would still be alive here if he died there. It was too much to think about right now. He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed.
"I'll do whatever I can for you, kiddo. I'm not sure what, but I'll do something," Sirius answered smiling.
"I think I know something that might help," said Remus, who had remained quiet during the rest of the discussion.
Both Harry and Sirius motioned for him to continue.
"Well, there is a spell that allows two people to share a common dream. Harry, you will have to cast it on Sirius and invite him. I've never done it, so I'm not sure how it works, but we could ask Albus more about it."
Slowly, Harry nodded. It sounded like a good idea. They would need a plan of some sort, but Harry was sure that wouldn't be a problem with all of them thinking on it. Although, he really didn't like the idea of telling Professor Dumbledore everything.
"When will Professor Dumbledore be here?" asked Harry.
"There is a meeting later tonight. We will ask him to talk after it's over. Is that alright with you?" asked Remus sensing Harry's nervousness.
"Yeah… So, what happened with your house the other night? No one ever told me." Harry was obviously changing the subject, but he did genuinely want to know about the raid.
Sirius and Remus gave each other a look, Harry wasn't sure what it meant, but he figured it was somewhat important.
Sirius said, "That's nothing you need to worry about, kiddo."
"But you'll tell me anyway, right?" Harry asked, then grumbled, "I thought everyone wasn't going to withhold information from me anymore."
Sirius sighed, "Fine. Besides, you won't stop bugging us about it until you know, right? Yeah, Hagrid told me how you are with questions you don't necessarily need to know." Sirius sounded annoyed, but his smile and glittering eyes told Harry that it was nothing short of what he expected.
Remus decided to tell the tale, since it was his house involved. "Well, Sirius and I went to the house and gathered what we could, but it had to look lived in, so we couldn't take everything. We copied a few of the pictures that were hanging up and some other mementoes I had. Anything of value they probably thought I would have in my Gringott's vault anyway, so I took what I could. I left all the robes and clothes that I wasn't wearing, and anything else that wasn't necessary. When the Death Eaters came, they were satisfied to break and burn everything left. So, it all worked out alright." Remus had explained everything nonchalantly, like he was going over the habitat and habits of some magical creature in class.
Harry just stared at him with his mouth gaping. "So, your house is gone? Everything you left is burnt?"
"Yes, but it's alright. I didn't have anything worth much there anyhow," Remus explained, but Harry could sense the loss of his private sanctuary.
"No, it's not alright. It's because of me –"
"Harry," Sirius tried to cut him off, but Harry wouldn't have it.
"Listen. They wouldn't have looked for your house if they didn't think I was there or if I didn't know you. It's a fact. I'm going to replace what I can. It's not up for discussion, Moony. It's not charity or anything else you might be thinking of not to take it. What if I borrowed a book from you and carelessly tore out some pages or burned it or made it otherwise unusable. You would expect me to replace it, correct?" Harry wasn't sure where this authoritativeness was coming from, but it felt good and he wasn't going to let them stop him. "I have effectively made your things unusable. I know it wasn't me directly, but I doubt you're going to get much from Voldemort. So, I will start with buying you some new clothes and robes. Alright?"
The two men were stunned. For many minutes neither moved, nor made a sound. Finally, Sirius broke out laughing so hard that he rolled off the bed. This brought Remus out of his stupor and he chuckled lightly along with his friend. Harry was confused, to say the least. He expected his offer to be rejected, argued, heck even pitied. But humorous? He didn't know what they found so funny about what he wanted to do and said as much.
"Har-Harry, it's not the offer that's funny," Sirius gasped out, trying to gain control of himself enough to talk. "It's just, you're so remarkably James and Lily, both of them. It was just a little mind boggling to see them both coming out of you at the same time. You have James's determination and Lily no-nonsense way of arguing. She even used to use that exact phrase 'it's not up for discussion' on Moony all the time." Sirius started laughing again. Remus just shook his head with a large smile on his face.
"Alright, Harry," said Remus. "I'll take you up on that offer. I'm starting to feel myself getting dusty wearing robes we've found around the house."
Harry smiled. They were letting him do something useful and he was grateful. And hungry he suddenly remembered when his stomach growled. This only served to further incapacitate Sirius as he laughed on the floor.
Remus ignored his best friend and turned to Harry, "Are you feeling up to a walk to the kitchen, or do you want us to bring you something?"
"I think I'd like to get up if it's not too much trouble," Harry responded.
"No trouble at all, Harry," Sirius said as he got off the floor.
"I don't know if I want to baby-sit Padfoot, here, while we eat though," said Remus with a surprisingly straight face.
Sirius put on his best pathetic, puppy-dog look and said, "Pwease, Moony, I wanna come too."
That managed to crack the serious faced lycanthrope into giggles as he said, "Insanity. Why do I surround myself with insanity?"
"You like company, Moony, why else?" said Sirius with a sarcastic grin.
Harry was laughing so hard that it hurt his already pained chest, but he didn't care. He would gladly put up with a little pain if he could feel this way all the time. It was wonderful seeing the two men before him act silly and childish after all the pain they had been through in life. It not only gave him a sense of belonging and family, but also hope for his own future if he lived through the fulfillment of the prophecy.
With some pain, dulled due to the earlier potion, and more help than he'd like to admit, Harry was seated at the kitchen table with a plate of delicious, Mrs. Weasley cooked, food. He savored every bite and found his stomach full far before his taste buds wanted to be finished. With a sigh he sat back and smile slightly. It had been a good day after he awoke from that dream, and he didn't want to ruin it for himself or Sirius and Remus. They had been laughing and joking light-heartedly for hours now. Harry didn't want to worry them more than he already did. He focused on holding his face and emotions in check, even though he was slowly sinking in the sea of guilt he'd been avoiding since the Creevey's were murdered.
Some of what he was feeling must have come through, however, because Ginny approached with a sympathetic look. He didn't want pity from her or anyone else. He just wanted to be left alone; it was only a matter of time before the Headmaster would make him talk about everything that happened. The only reason he hadn't yet was because Harry had heard he was extremely busy at the time. Although, if he was coming tonight for a meeting, then to help with his dreams, he knew that he would have to talk about it.
His thoughts returned to the redhead when she placed a hand on his good shoulder.
"Can we talk for a bit?" she asked quietly.
Harry looked around. They were separated from the others at the table by a few spots, since many people had come and gone already. Harry nodded, not really wanting to say anything. He wasn't sure what she wanted to talk about, and he didn't want to say anything about how bad he felt if she hadn't really seen it first.
"Harry, I don't know everything that happened… no one does, but it wasn't your fault." Harry continued to look down at his half empty glass of pumpkin juice. Should it be half full? He wondered.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ginny. Of course it's not my fault. You don't have to waste your time telling me that." He wanted to reassure her and get out of this conversation.
"The others may not see it, but I do. I know Sirius and Remus do too, but Ron and Hermione and some of the others can't. They don't know what it's like to feel responsible for someone else's pain." She was speaking softly and playing mindlessly with a napkin under the table, showing she was more nervous to bring this up than she appeared.
"And you know what it's like?" he hissed angrily. He immediately regretted it as her face shadowed and she turned away slightly. "I'm sorry. I know you do… I just forget sometimes. But even then, he used you to get to me. It's my fault that you had to experience any of that."
"No, Harry, it isn't. It's Lucius Malfoy's fault that I got the diary, and it's Tom Riddle's fault for doing what he did. I won't lie and say that I couldn't do anything, because I could have. I could have stopped writing in it or told someone that it was writing back, but I didn't. But this is different, Harry. You didn't even know that they were in trouble until it was happening. You did nothing to cause it, and you couldn't have done anything differently. It's hard, I know it is, but you have to accept it's not your fault." She was staring intently at him and he couldn't look away from the intensity in her gaze. Finally, she glanced away and spoke again. "I think you're supposed to get back to bed. I'll be around," she said with a small smile and left the room.
Sirius and Remus, who had been speaking with Mr. Weasley, walked over to Harry with smiles on their faces.
"So, what have you and Ginny been discussing?" asked Sirius with a smirk.
"Nothing that you need to know," replied Harry. He knew they would think it was something else, but he didn't really feel like having the whole guilt conversation again. "Is it time for me to go back to bed?" he asked before anymore Ginny questions could be raised.
"Yep, Mrs. Weasley was not too happy that we had you up earlier than Madam Pomfrey said, but she calmed down once she saw how much you ate." Sirius and Remus both grinned. He had the feeling that they probably persuaded Mrs. Weasley for a while before she let them off without punishment. Adults or not, no one wants to cross the over-motherly woman.
Harry slowly pushed himself up off his chair and held the table for a few minutes to catch his breath and stop the room from tilting. He felt much more tired than when they had come down earlier, but he was reluctant to continue to show his weaknesses. He kept telling himself it didn't matter to anyone in the house, but it didn't seem to improve his attitude on the subject.
Sirius and Remus must have noticed his dilemma or something, because they each held an arm and placed a hand on his back for support. They slowly helped him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. All of this was done without a word about it, but there was plenty of banter back and forth to compensate. About halfway up the stairs Harry needed to stop. He was leaning almost completely on Sirius now. Remus was on the side that had gotten injured.
"You ok, kid?" asked Sirius hiding the concern he was feeling rather poorly.
"Yeah, just need a minute. Sorry," Harry mumbled. He was having a hard time catching his breath, and his chest hurt even when taking shallow breaths.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Harry. We never stop to admire the fine carving on this banister anyway," joked Remus while watching Harry carefully. Harry forced a smile and tried to laugh.
"I think I'll just stay here, ok you guys? I'll just sit for a while." The shallow breaths were making Harry lightheaded and he didn't want to fall down the stairs and add more injuries and worry. He swayed as he tried to lower himself down and Sirius held him fast.
"Woah, why don't we just help you to bed. I'll float you there so it won't be so rough, alright?"
Harry made some noise, but he wasn't sure what it was. He really just wanted to make the pain stop and go to sleep. He pressed his hand against his chest in an involuntary attempt to ease the pain. He noticed Remus look at his watch and flinch slightly.
"I'm sorry, Harry. It's about twenty minutes past your last potion time. We'll give it to you as soon as we get you safe in bed." Remus walked ahead of the floating Harry to open doors, while Sirius brought up the rear with his wand pointed at his godson.
They put Harry in his bed and gave him the potion straight away. A few minutes later he was breathing easier and some color returned to his pale cheeks. He closed his eyes and swallowed automatically when another cup was put to his mouth. The last thing he felt before he fell asleep was someone tucking in the blanket around him.
***
A/N: Hi again, I keep doing two of these. Anyhoo, I just wanted to apologize for any really bad errors in this chapter. I've been sort of scatter brained as I wrote and edited it, sorry!