A/N: *wicked grin as she looks around with content* Chaos, destruction,
mayhem . . . . my work here is finished. Well, maybe not quite yet . . . .
Death threats! Wow, the reviewers are getting violent!! Someone even called me a bitch!! But take into account that Sirius' Animagus form is a dog, and I consider that a compliment.
Okay okay, I'm sorry. I really like Sirius too, he's a great complex character and fun to write. But you did beg me not to kill the Weasleys. Be careful what you wish for. I wasn't actually planning on killing Sirius off originally, it just happened, like so many things around here. I was writing, and the next thing I know Sirius is dying in Harry's arms, completely out of no where, freak accident. I blame it on the coffee. But hey, what did I tell you all before? Nothing is as it seems, so just stick with me for now. *winks* Now the shit is really going to hit the fan. Enjoy the trip to hell.
I think I need to explain something here. Auror Spike Williams is not Spike from Buffy. I have never watched Buffy, so I actually have very little idea of who he is. I was online one night with some friends and I was looking for names for the Aurors in the Order of the Phoenix, and I came up with Cody "Spike" Williams, who is distantly based on a friend of mine. Apparently he has since bleached his hair and actually resembled Spike for a little while. Rather scary, really. So any of you who think I stole another idea and did not give credit for it, you're mistaken.
Clifjumpr13, again I blame this on you. One by one the penguins steal my sanity. Wait, they're too late. Never mix the Hamster Dance Song and "Die Hard". Congratulations to me! This is the one year anniversary of when I started writing this, on a single piece of paper on my bedroom floor. Now it's a handwritten 220 page monstrosity. Blah.
Disclaimer: In case you haven't already figured it out, I don't own anything. I steal it, play with it, and return it broken.
Chapter 23
It was early morning, when the sun had not quite reached the windows of the Gryffindor boy's dormitory. The five inhabitants were sound asleep, some snoring, some dreaming, but all was fairly quiet. That is, until Harry woke up. He shot up in bed, nearly screaming from his nightmare. He sucked in great lungfuls of air as he tried desperately to calm his racing heartbeat, the last vivid images burned into his mind like a lithograph.
Looking down at his hands, he could have sworn that just a minute ago they were stained with dark putrid blood, holding the lifeless body of his godfather. He let out a slow breath of relief, thankful for the bright sunlight that just peeked through his hangings. It brought everything back to reality. No, Sirius was alive and well, and when Harry went down to breakfast he would be there at the staff table sitting next to Remus. Or maybe not. He liked to sleep in.
Flopping back down on his pillow, Harry rubbed his face with his hands as if to wipe the last traces of his dream away. This one had been pretty bad, but then again he had suffered through images of all his friends dying at one point or another. They tended to be fairly violent while he struggled against something to reach them. Of course, once he began battling demons his subconscious had more to work with, and several times he had half- expected to wake up with blood matting his sheets.
Still, the worst one had been Ron and Hermione trapped underwater during the Second Task, and Harry was wrapped in the tentacles of the giant squid, unable to do anything but watch as they drowned. That one had woken him screaming and in a cold sweat for a week afterwards. Ruefully he reflected that Freud would have a field day with his dreams, and probably concoct some pseudoscientific sexual meaning behind them. Thank all the powers that be that they weren't real.
Shaking himself, Harry threw back the covers and hauled himself into the bathroom for a shower. When he returned to the dormitory, toweling dry his long tousled hair, the other boys were still sound asleep. They could sleep through just about anything, which was both good and bad. On one hand, Harry never had to worry about waking them up with his nightmares. On the other, waking them up for anything was very hard work.
Luckily the job of rousing them from Morpheus' nocturnal stranglehold was made much easier by the Weasley twins and their new gift to Ron. As a tribute to their fanaticism to Quidditch, they had developed a new alarm clock guaranteed to wake up their favorite brother, who, it was speculated, could sleep through the Quidditch World Cup played on his bed.
Of course, given the twins it was a rather unique gift. Personally Harry wondered why Ron had kept it, and not given it to some unsuspecting soul. But it did the tedious job of waking him up every morning, which was always a struggle. It also succeeded in waking up the others, more due to Ron's cursing and the ruckus he caused in attempting to shut it up than the actual alarm.
Just as Harry was buttoning up his shirt, Ron's new alarm went off at precisely 7:30 am. A mini-Bludger about the size of a Snitch rose with the whistle, and the small Beater bat whacked it at the lump of covers on the bed. There followed a series of muffled shouts and curses punctuated by solid thumps.
Harry watched with amusement as his best friend staggered out of bed, only to be smacked in the stomach by the mini-Bludger and fall back winded. Moaning and cursing, he stood again, ducked, then grabbed the bat and smashed the Bludger back into the case. Dropping the bat, he doubled over, clutching at his stomach and letting out a pain-filled rant that questioned the Bludger's material consistency and parental arrangements.
Dean poked his head out from his hangings and muttered sleepily, "Ron, isn't it time you learned some new curses to wake us up by?" Seamus laughed a little drunkenly as he rubbed his eyes. "Yeah mate, we've heard your whole litany by now. Get your girlfriend to teach you some new vocabulary." Neville snorted. "That'll be the day. Hermione Granger, cussing like a sailor while instructing on the proper conjugation of the word fu-"
Ron cut him off with a glare. "Bugger off." Grumpily he grabbed his towel and dressing robe as he headed for the shower, ignoring the snickers following him. His mood didn't improve when he remembered they had Potions first off this morning. Fortunately his mood lightened considerable when he saw Hermione waiting for him in the Common Room to head down for breakfast. A mental image of her cursing like a true Weasley made him snicker, but then a blush rose as he remembered what else she could do with that mouth.
Her grin made it all too clear that she could tell what he was thinking, and with a quick kiss laced her arm through his. "Harry and Ginny are already went down, so let's head for breakfast before they eat it all." Ron snorted, but reflected that Harry probably could put away most of it by himself. Damn his metabolism. Breakfast was still there when they arrived though, and the four friends chatted amicably.
All too soon the three sixth years were descending to the dungeons for another year of Potions with the Slytherins. It was still a bit early and the classroom wasn't unlocked yet, so they gathered outside with their housemates and listen to Parvati and Lavender gossip in low tones that they all heard anyway. Apparently Parvati had some Ravenclaw gossip from her sister Padma that Lavender hadn't spread around the school yet, and judging by their giggles it was quite juicy.
Unfortunately Draco Malfoy, as per tradition, had to start his favorite game of taunting the trio, Crabbe and Goyle backing him up but not adding anything to the scenery. "Well, if it isn't the famous Hogwarts ménage de trio. How are your two boys toys treating you, Mudblood? Like the filth you are?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Truthfully, I'm unable to comprehend why the fact that you are a "pureblood" makes you superior to others in anything other than the astonishing ability to inbreed."
Harry hid his smirk behind his hand, but Ron wasn't going to take any insult without getting in his own shot. "You would know about filth, Malfoy. After all, the apple never falls far from the tree, or in this case, crawls from the slime pit." Malfoy rounded on him with a scowl. "Protecting your Mudblood girlfriend? Just our luck boys, a next generation of bushy haired Weasleys is probably being bred right here in Hogwarts. Tell me, does she put out for you every night, or do you have to beg?"
Ron stepped forward with a cold glare. "Shut your mouth, before I seal it for you." Malfoy sneered up at him and flipped a blond hair out of his face. "Or what, Weasley? You can't do anything to me. Even if you tried, your slut of a girlfriend would stop you." Ron growled low in his throat and advanced on the smaller teen, but Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward with ham-like fists raised. Hermione stood next to Ron, not even trying to restrain him as her hand closed on her wand.
For several seconds the tableau froze, the onlookers silently cheering while keeping an eye out for Snape. Harry leaned casually against the wall, staying out of it as his eyes flicked back and forth while analyzing Ron's movements, and guessed what was going to happen next. He wasn't disappointed.
In a flash of movement both Ron and Hermione drew their wands and shouted separate spells before Malfoy's wand could even clear his robes. With a little light show and three pops of air, suddenly the three Slytherins were gone. In their place were two bowling pins and a dazed penguin.
Smiling viciously, Hermione cast a little hex on the penguin which caused it to squat down and curl up into a ball, tucking in its flippers. Ron stepped forward and gave it a good solid kick, right at the two pins. With a crash the pins went flying and clattered against the walls, but the penguin didn't stop. It kept rolling down the corridor to the end and bounced down a long flight of stairs.
The sixth years were silent until the last of the thuds echoed and died, then Harry started laughing quietly. It quickly progressed to full-on hysterics which the Gryffindors all joined in on whole-heartedly, making the dungeons ring. "That was brilliant!" Seamus choked out with tears streaming down his face, and Dean nodded so hard that, already off-balanced by his guffaws, he nearly fell over. "Malfoy, the Incredible Bowling Penguin! Classic!" Neville sniggered, "I like the two pin heads over there."
Ron grinned sheepishly as he blushed at the attention. He murmured in Hermione's ear. "That was a nice touch," and gave her a quick kiss. She smiled back at him. "Just curious, but why a penguin? I would think you would want the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, part deux." He shrugged. "First thing that popped into my head. No particular reason." He looked around at his chortling classmates, the two abandoned pins and the Slytherins trying to hide their amused grins behind not-quite-convincing scowls. Hermione giggled, and soon they were both shaking with paroxysms of laughter.
Showing a knack for timing, Snape chose that moment to appear, stalking down the corridor with his robes billowing out impressively around him. His dark eyes narrowed as he took in the scene and demanded icily, "What is going on here?" The laughter faded, and everyone stood glancing around at each other not wanting to answer and draw the professor's wrath on themselves. "Well?"
The awkward silence was broken by an indignant squawk of fury at the end of the corridor, and they all turned to see a very disgruntled penguin waddling towards them as fast as his flippered feet could go, wings stretched out to either side. Ron bit his lip to try and stop his smile, but when the penguin squawked again he quickly fell victim to a fit of sniggers.
Harry looked over at the Potions Master just in time to see him lose his fight against a small smile. Snape struggled to keep his voice notably stern as he asked, "Who is this, and what happened?" Pansy Parkinson managed a straight face as she said, "That's Draco, sir, and the two pins in the corner are Crabbe and Goyle." Dean gathered his courage and spoke up, "We were just being enlightened on the fine points of penguin bowling sir."
Smothered snickers erupted from the Gryffindors, and Snape blinked once in disbelief. Hiding his growing amusement behind his trademark scowl, he pulled his wand and with a wave the three male Slytherins popped back into their proper, if rather disheveled and beaten, human forms. Malfoy painfully got to his feet, wincing as he rubbed a hand over his bum and glared at Ron and Hermione. "Professor, these two attacked me unprovoked . . ."
Hermione interrupted him coldly, "Malfoy, quit lying and grow up." Ron added, "Next time, don't start something you can't finish. Never insult Hermione or my family again." He twirled his wand expertly through his fingers before pocketing it, winking at his girlfriend.
Snape sighed inwardly. What a way to start off this day. "Mr. Weasley, thirty points from Gryffindor for threatening a student and using magic in the corridors. Mr. Malfoy, thirty points from Slytherin for provoking an attack and showing appallingly bad judgment." As he swept past them all to unlock the doors, he added, "And detention, for letting a Gryffindor get the better of you." He stalked towards his desk, ignoring the curious murmurs and incensed fuming from the students. As they settled at their worktables, he began his lecture. "Today you'll begin the first stages of a Clarity Potion . . ."
Five minor accidents, twenty points and a melted cauldron later, the Gryffindors exited the dungeons to escape their idea of hell on earth. Ron groaned as they climbed the stairs. "We've Divination next. Only ten minutes to make it to the top of the North Tower. That's at the other end of the school." He looked hopefully at Harry. "Any way we could get up there without having to run?"
Hermione huffed a bit as Harry appeared thoughtful. "Honestly, you two should have taken something sensible, like Arithmancy. At least Professor Vector has the sense to keep the classroom accessible, and besides, she doesn't get her thrills by predicting which of her students is going to die." Ron grinned at her as he playfully protested, "But then how would we exercise our creative writing skills? She laps it up anyways. That was one of my best marks."
Harry smiled as they bantered back and forth all the way up the stairs, well aware of their form of flirting. Eventually Hermione broke off and headed down a corridor while the boys continued their trek upwards. Harry glanced over at his friend with a challenging look. "Race you." He took off like a shot, taking three steps at a time with Ron hot on his heels.
They bolted up several flights of stairs and were heading full tilt down the corridor towards the spiral staircase to the North Tower when someone unexpectedly stepped right into their path. Unable to stop, Ron slammed into the person and sent both to the floor in a tangle of limbs and panicked shouts. With his faster reflexes, Harry avoided the pile-up with a leap to the side, but his momentum carried him right into the stone wall. He hit hard and bounced off to land flat on his back with a painful thud and a whuff of air.
Groaning, he hauled himself up as Ron knelt on the floor, wheezing with a hand to his chest, the impact having knocked the air out of him. Next to him, a furious Professor McGonagall was trying to disentangle her legs from her robes and scramble to her feet, so livid that she was sputtering incoherently. Harry grimaced and offered his hand to his Head of House. "I'm sorry Professor, we were trying to get to class on time. We just came from Potions, and Divination is next, but it's on the other side of the castle and . . ."
She cut off his babbling with a stern glare; despite all his powers, she still had the ability to make him feel like a chastised first year. "Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, running in the corridors is not allowed. Ten points off for each of you." Ron sheepishly fetched her hat from across the corridor and handed it to her. "I'm terribly sorry Professor. Are you all right." McGonagall smoothed her hair back into a bun and replaced her hat. "I am unhurt. This time. Be more careful."
They both nodded, and her stern look faded into something softer. "Mr. Weasley, it is just as well that we ran into each other. I need you to come with me immediately to the Headmaster's office. A situation has arisen, and it concerns you. Your sister is also being called." She glanced at Harry. "You had better come too, Mr. Potter. Where is Ms. Granger?" Ron furrowed his brow in confusion as he said, "Arithmancy class. Professor, what is this about?"
McGonagall did not answer him as she led them back the same way they had come, albeit at a much slower pace, then made a side trip to Professor Vector's class and poked her head in. "Excuse me, but I need to speak with Ms. Granger. Gather your things; you won't be returning to class." Hermione joined them with her heavy bag slung over one arm, her expression confused as she took in Ron and Harry's presence. "Professor, what is this about?"
"The Headmaster wishes to speak to all of you." She swept down the corridor, three befuddled teens trailing after her in silence. Harry tried to think of all possibilities for their summons. Were they in trouble for the penguin incident? No, Snape had taken care of that as a student infraction, and any further lectures could wait. Besides, with Ginny also being called in, an Order meeting was the most likely, but what had occurred that warranted an emergency council in the middle of the day? Had another attack occurred last night?
His throat tightened as his nightmare flashed in his mind's eye, the horrifying sight of Sirius dying in his arms, but them he shook his head. That was just a nightmare, one of so many others he had every night. Just to make sure, he asked, "Professor, is Sirius all right?" His friends were startled out of their own thoughts to glance at him with concern, and McGonagall threw him a look over her shoulder.
"As far as I know, Black is perfectly fine. He wasn't involved." "Involved in what?" Ron asked anxiously, and she sighed. "Not here. The walls have ears, and eyes," she added with a frown towards a particularly cheeky portrait pausing in his flirtations with a buxom young maiden to watch the three teens with interest. He leaned over to whisper something in her ear, and she blushed and giggled as she too eyed them. They continued the journey in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
They were passing by the Entrance Hall when the doors slammed open, and reflexively the teens all pulled their wands to train unflinchingly on the figure silhouetted in the bright sunshine without. Harry squinted against the glare to attempt to make out a face, and the figure stepped forward into the Hall. Now the light threw his features into illumination, and Harry froze at the sight, groaning "Oh gods," wand slipping from nerveless fingers.
For suddenly, he remembered.
He was the clone.
The real Harry, disguised as Wraith, was currently walking towards them mechanically, steps echoing like gunshots off the silent stones, cradling the lifeless body of Sirius Black in his arms. For Harry, his nightmares were reality.
*****************************************************
Following Professor McGonagall's interruption, Albus Dumbledore led the rest of the Order from their chamber to the Hospital Wing along the back routes, careful of all the spying eyes. Once inside the infirmary, they locked the doors and hurried towards the screens at the far end. Pomfrey removed them, and Dumbledore drew up short, an impossibly sad look weighing his features down as the Order members drew in sharp breaths simultaneously. Remus gasped and shoved past him roughly to kneel beside the bed.
Sirius lay there, pale and unmoving, a marked contrast to his normal bundle of energy. Wraith stood above him, clenching his fists as he struggled to contain some unimaginable mix of emotions. Harry sat on the bed at his godfather's feet, nearly doubled over with his face buried in his hands. Ron and Hermione, both red-eyed and teary, hovered uncertainly between the two as if unsure of what to do.
Dumbledore murmured, "Is he . . ." Reluctantly Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Yes. He's dead. I'm sorry." Remus was blinking rapidly, trying to stop the tears as his face contorted in anguish, then with a howling scream he picked up a chair and hurled it with a lycanthrope's enhanced strength into the opposite wall, where it shattered on impact. Whirling, he punched blindly at the stones behind him hard enough that he seemed to be attempting to tear it down with his bare hands. There were distinct cracks as bones broke in both his hands.
As suddenly as it started, the storm passed and Remus slumped against the wall, panting as all strength left him. Slowly he sank down to the floor, tears running down his weary features as his shoulders shook. The Order had watched the last Marauder helplessly, but now Harry got up and knelt beside him. He wrapped his arms around him, and together they grieved while comforting the other, mourning Sirius.
Arthur wiped tears from his eyes and said, "I think we all need to know what happened last night." Ron started at his father's voice and turned to find his entire family gathered behind him. He walked over to join them in a Weasley hug, deriving comfort from their combined strengths. Molly especially hugged her children tight to her, as if trying to defeat the reality that she could lose them to this war by her love alone.
George heard a snuffling sound behind him, and turned from his mother to see Tori Black in another bed, gray faced and bandaged. His parents had informed him briefly of what had happened, and he felt a rush of gratitude towards his Auror trainer for protecting them. He walked over and sat by her bed, giving Tori a brief side arm hug just so he could see the shaky smile she projected at him, assuring him that she would be fine.
Slowly the Order settled down on beds and chairs in the Hospital Wing, and the events of last night were reported by Arthur, Tori, Dumbledore, and Professor Figg. The Headmaster swallowed hard once they were finished with the recount. "Casualty report. Seven Aurors were killed, including Spike Williams." Tori started and shot up from her bed, eyes wide and panicked as she exclaimed, "Spike is dead?"
Arabella nodded sadly, "Some demons overwhelmed him." Tori moaned as she fell back onto the bed, tears shining in her eyes. George was sitting next to her and held her hand comfortingly, rubbing his fingers in small circles over hers. Dumbledore looked over at Harry and Remus, then up at Wraith. "How did Sirius die?" Wraith was staring off into space, features arranged in a blank mask under all the grime. "I don't know," was the blank reply, and mutters rippled through the Order.
"Maybe you should start at the beginning," Snape suggested, for once without a trace of his usual ire. Wraith swallowed hard. "We were at my house, picking up the new Detection Parchments before heading out when the alarms went off. I let Sirius take the Shadow while I took a portal to the Minister's residence. We were trying to give them time to escape." Molly sniffed a bit, and Arthur put his arm around her comfortingly.
Wraith continued, "The demons had weapons, flamethrowers and grenades with their regular stuff. I was fighting on the ground while Sirius attacked from the air, driving them back from the house. Reinforcements arrived, and when I looked up, Sirius . . . he was unconscious on the bike. It was going to crash. A levitation spell caught the bike, but Sirius fell off. I caught him, but . . ." he gritted his teeth, "Those damn demons. When I reached him, he wasn't breathing. I . . . I tried everything I could . . . but . . . I couldn't . . . I couldn't save him . . . he died . . . right in my arms . . . I failed him . . ." His voice was catching as the emotionless mask began to crumble, but he fought against it, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.
Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I don't understand it. There's not a scratch on him." Indeed everyone else who had come back was covered with mud and minor wounds, but Sirius by comparison was perfectly fine and healthy, except for the obvious fact that he was dead. "The only logical explanation would be the Killing Curse or poison, but that's impossible."
Wraith barely heard her, staring down at his hands and trying to get them to stop shaking. The only problem was that he was having trouble feeling them, as if some of the signals were cut from his brain. Hermione noticed something, and gingerly she took one hand in hers, examining his palm closely. "Where did you get these?" She traced a finger over raised pustules that turned nasty shades of red and yellow with a tinge of green under the dark blood and dirt.
He looked blankly at her, then again at his hands, and suddenly his mind snapped into fast forward. Grabbing the arm . . . skin reaction . . . poison . . . burning corpses . . . paralytic . . . frozen muscles . . . ceased respiration . . . heart attack. He spun to the nurse. "What about an inhaled poison?" She considered it for a moment and nodded. "In a fairly high dosage, like an entire vaporized cauldron full."
Wraith turned away, breathing hard as he gritted, "Or smoke from a pile of burning bodies." He clenched his fists so tight that his nails drew blood and pus where they punctured the skin, but he couldn't feel it. "It's my fault." Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "What?" He shoved away violently, tears flowing unnoticed down his cheeks cutting clean trails through the grime. "It's my fault!" he shouted.
"I was the one fighting fire with fire. I'm the one who turned their weapons against them. Their skin is poisoned, see?" He brandished his blistered hands wildly as he strode around, ranting. "I tore its arm off with my bare hands and used it to beat them to death. Their skin burned because I was setting them on fire, and Sirius inhaled the smoke . . . and . . . it's my fault," he finished in a broken whisper. He leaned against the cold stone, turning his face towards it to hide from their eyes and to cool his hot face.
Ron approached him and laid a firm hand on his shoulder. "It was not your fault." Wraith's protests were silenced by a hand held up in front of his face. "No, it was not your fault. It was an accident. You had no way of knowing about the poison, and did not know that Sirius could have inhaled the smoke. You said so yourself, you did everything that you could to save him." Ron swallowed hard. "It was an accident. Don't you dare blame yourself for this."
Wraith didn't want to listen, but the truthful words penetrated his consciousness and forced him to actually make note of them. He simply stared back at his friend helplessly, unable to convey his grief. At that point Harry walked up and picked up Wraith's hand, inspecting it for himself. An arched eyebrow asked a question, and Wraith shook his head miserably, indicating Sirius' body.
Harry sighed, then pulled out a whistle to blow a few notes. A couple seconds later, Eredfire swept into the room to land on Harry's shoulder. He glanced at Wraith half sorrowfully, half reproachfully, then with a twitter he leaned down and dropped tears onto his hands. As they watched, the blood and pus disappeared as the poisoned blisters healed and sunk back into normal skin. Feeling returned, and he flexed his hands experimentally, then gave the phoenix a tiny smile. *Thank you.* The phoenix bowed.
Dumbledore walked over to place a hand on both their shoulders. "I believe you should go clean yourself up, Wraith. Harry, you may stay here with Remus for the time being. Ron, your family needs you right now. Hermione, you may do as you see fit. All of you are excused from classes for the day." Slowly the crowded Hospital Wing cleared out, until Harry was left with Remus who, exhausted with grief, fell asleep on the chair next to Sirius.
Harry watched them both with a million thoughts running through his head until Wraith came back in with damp hair but clean. "We need to talk," he said bluntly, and Wraith nodded solemnly. They settled face to face on the bed across from Sirius', glancing over at the still form on the bed. Harry exhaled heavily as he ran a hand over his face. "It was bad, wasn't it?"
Wraith frowned with confusion. "You should know," he said meaningfully. Harry shook his head. "That's just it. I don't. Something's changed. We're not the same anymore." He sighed. "Ron spotted it last night, and this morning . . . well, after Azkaban, I knew exactly what had happened, almost as if I was there myself. I remembered." He waved a hand, trying to explain. "It's like, you're the original, I'm the copy that gets updated with all your memories. Yet that connection is failing. This morning, I thought it was all a nightmare. It faded almost immediately. It wasn't real, not until I saw you."
He looked Wraith right in the eyes, helpless anguish and confusion written all over his face. "I forgot I was the clone." He shook his head. "I'm developing into a separate person from you. They're even treating us like separate people, different entities. And I can't help but think that this is bad."
Wraith grimaced. "Do you think that it's from being used too much?" Harry shook his head. "And Eva never warned you about anything like this. I don't think it's natural. Maybe it's grief, maybe the influence of the demons. I don't know." Wraith scrubbed a hand over his face and asked, "What do you propose we do? Rejoin and not separate again unless absolutely necessary?"
Harry sighed. "That's one idea. But I want to know what's causing this, and whether or not it will go away when we rejoin. What if we rejoin and now two separate personalities are in the same body? You'd have a very weird case of self-induced schizophrenia." He tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully, then shrugged. "We could continue as always and see what happens."
He eyed his double. "Get rid of that disguise. Let's see if something is different physically." Wraith shrugged and his features melted and rearranged back into Harry. The Harrys raked their eyes over each other critically, trying to find an anomaly on the other. They summoned up a full length mirror and started comparing side by side.
After a few minutes of this, the Weasley family walked back into the Hospital Wing to check on Harry, Hermione trailing behind with Ron. Molly froze in her tracks at the double image, and Fred and George promptly last their solemn faces to smiles that were vaguely reminiscent of their trademark grins. "Wicked! You've got a twin too!" The Harrys turned and said simultaneously, "Can you tell the difference?"
Ginny shook her head, and Ron stepped closer to inspect them, circling around like a hawk. "No, I can't tell the difference between you two. Your hair is even the same. Why do you ask?" Harrys sighed, "There may be a slight problem, but no matter." They stepped towards each other until their bodies touched and fused, then with a little bit of movement like stirring melted wax in fog, only one Harry stood before them.
Hermione asked, "What sort of problem?" Harry waved a hand distractedly. "On, just some communication failure. No big deal." His gaze returned to his godfather and his friend, and grief enveloped him again, reinforced by the double memories. He sat down heavily at the foot of the bed, and Molly walked over to give him a hug.
Arthur touched the teen's shoulder and said quietly, "Harry, we can plan the funeral if you want. Dumbledore pulled up his will, and Sirius wanted to be buried on Hogwarts grounds. He'll be celebrated as a hero, largely thanks to you." Harry nodded silently, unable to speak through the lump in his throat. After a few minutes, he managed to croak, "Where will you be staying now?" Arthur and Molly traded looks as their children all shifted uneasily.
"For now, at Hogwarts, even though it is a bit inconvenient. Later we'll rebuild our house, but probably not until after the war's over." Harry looked down at his folded hands, inwardly marveling at the hope these wonderful people still carried with them. "If you want," he began hesitantly, "you can stay at my house. It's empty at the moment, with plenty of space and lots of defenses." He swallowed. "It only seems fair, after you've given me a home for years, that I can try and return the favor."
Molly swiped at a couple of stray tears. "Thank you sweetie, but it's hardly a favor. You're part of the family too, you know. Family looks after their own." He nodded and turned away.
**************************************************
Harry was never exactly sure how he made it through the next few days. Everything blurred together like an acid dream until Sirius' funeral, which stood out in stark relief, crystal clear. Particular flashes stood out in his mind, like snapshots:
Remus in all black, face blank but tears rolling down his gray features.
Dumbledore, up at the podium giving a solemn address as Harry sat in front, surrounded by the Order.
A casket, festooned with flowers and cards, cleared off and slowly lowered into the soft dirt by the Whomping Willow.
A handful of dirt, slipping from his fingers into the new grave and scattering over the top of the shining wood.
Being hugged by Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, their tears wetting his dress robes.
Supporting Remus back to his quarters past the statue of the humpbacked witch on the third floor.
He didn't cry. He couldn't cry. He felt numb to it all, as if he were dispassionately watching a scene from outside his own body.
Later Harry lay wide awake in bed, unable to sleep. Feeling restless, he shoved the covers aside and they slithered onto the floor unnoticed as he got up, pacing as his mind whirled without really thinking of anything. A soft snort from Neville's direction reminded him that others were asleep here, and quietly he crept down to the Common Room. The large room appeared foreign to his eyes under the combined lights of the dying embers in the hearth and pale starlight through the window.
His eyes latched onto the window, and without thinking he strode over, flung it wide open, and climbed over the railing to scale the sides of the castle. Within minutes he lay atop the roof watching the stars, gravity wanting to tug him down the slanted surface but his body weight keeping him anchored. For a long time all was still.
Abruptly a swoosh of air startled him from his stupor, and then Ginny Weasley was there, hovering in front of him on her broomstick. She met his gaze unflinchingly as she dismounted and carefully lay next to him. "I was in the Common Room when you came down. I couldn't sleep either." He gave a faint nod, but otherwise might as well have been an edifice of stone. She sighed. "Harry, you haven't spoken in three days. We're worried about you."
A long silence followed, and Ginny propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. "We are friends, aren't we?" After a moment, he nodded and she continued, "Friends help friends when they're in trouble or hurt or whenever. They depend on each other. Your friends are your strength. Talk to me Harry. About anything. Please."
Harry just lay there, staring up at the stars and not feeling. His eyes drifted among the constellations, vaguely picking out familiar shapes until he found Canis Major with the Dog Star shining bright, low on the horizon just above the trees. Sirius. Looking at him. Suddenly he blurted out, "What does it matter?" Ginny shot him a puzzled look. "What does it matter whether I talk or not? Whether I feel or not? I'm a soldier. I'm here for one reason only, and that is to finish this war once and for all. If I care, the people I care about get hurt."
He rolled away, but she placed a hand on his elbow to prevent that. "Harry, it matters. You matter. As more than a soldier, or a tool. Everyone makes their own choices and we choose to care about you. I care about you, Harry. Not the Boy Who Lived, not the Phoenix Lord or the War Mage, just Harry." She gave a little smile in remembrance. "The boy I first saw asking how to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters five years ago."
Harry snorted bitterly. "You've always had a crush on me, on this image of me. Hard to forget the hero-worshipping little girl who watched me for five years, sticking her elbow in the butter." He grimaced. "You don't know me, what I've done." Ginny fumed, her eyes glinting with suppressed rage; he'd gone too far this time.
"Damn it Harry! Get your ego-swelled head out of that whipped arse of yours and listen to me! I had a crush on you, yes. Emphasis on the 'had.' You're my friend and I value that friendship. Part of being friends is accepting each other for who they really are, good and bad. I know at least some of what you've done and are doing. And as for knowing you," she snorted, "I don't think anyone really knows you, least of all yourself. Now quit moping around like a whipped dog."
He looked away from her furious expression, then asked sardonically, "Is this where I say, 'Great, that's one less stalker?'" He threw her a look over his shoulder and caught something in her face that made him feel suddenly reckless. "So if I leaned over and kissed you right now, you could honestly say that you wouldn't feel anything for me?" He stared intensely at her, as if waiting for her to crack under his emerald gaze.
Ginny blushed furiously at that thought, but answered steadily, "No. I couldn't. I still have feelings for you, so don't tease me like that." She sat up and curled her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "You know, I hate feeling this way. I love you but right now I really hate you. You're so difficult." She sighed. "Harry, I'm going to be honest with you. I'd like for us to be more than friends. But I know that it probably won't happen. No matter what, I want us to stay friends. You need a good friend more than a girlfriend, and I can accept that. Just don't turn me away."
Well that didn't go the way she had planned, and judging by the surprised look on his face, he hadn't expected that either. She had given him the verbal equivalent to a slap on the face, and now it was his move. They lay in silence for a long time, watching as the Dog Star rose higher over the trees. Ginny saw a shooting star arch overhead, and smiled as she remembered an old fairy tale, and from there her thoughts drifted into a half-dozing state.
Abruptly Harry spoke up. "There's one thing I really regret." She glanced over at his shadowy figure, and he continued, "I never had a chance to live with Sirius. To get to know him better, to hear more stories about the Marauders and my parents. To really have a family." A single tear sparkled in one eye, but with a blink it was gone. "Your family is great, and Remus can fill in somewhat, but it's not the same."
Ginny just looked at him, and soon the tear was back, this time with friends. "It's not fair," he croaked, and she gathered him into a hug as he broke down, salt glistening on both their faces in the pale light of the stars.
********************************************
on a faraway plain, an ancient city just visible in the distance, an man argued heatedly with a woman. He was as animated and fiery as she was icily calm and stoic, which only amplified the agitation he expressed at her. "Damn you, don't you get it?!" he yelled with exasperation, running a hand through his black hair. "I'm not supposed to be here!"
The woman gazed at him with implacable silver eyes. "Then where are you supposed to be?" "Back where I was! Back to my life! The place you just yanked me out of! I am supposed to be there, not here!" She responded gently, "Yet here you are." He glared at her with fire in his eyes, and his voice rose until he was bellowing, the words echoing through the empty space. "It wasn't my time, and you know it as well as I! Something's wrong! I'm not supposed to be dead!"
Lady Death shrugged minutely. "Be that as it may, Sirius Black, you are. You may not want to be here, nor are you supposed to, but here you are nevertheless." He rounded on her, demanding with narrowed eyes, "Why?" She simply stated, "It is not my call."
She turned away, but Sirius stepped around to block her. "What do you mean, it's not your call? You are Death, aren't you?" Lady Death nodded. "Yes, I am. But it is not my call, all the same." She walked around him and headed for the distant city, and he called back at her in frustration, "What the hell do you mean, it's not your call? Whose call is it then? Answer me!"
Lady Death said it softly, yet Sirius heard every word clearly. "Ask your godson." He stared at her retreating back, baffled out of his mind. "Huh? Harry? What does he have to do with this? Do you get paid more for being cryptic?! Shit!" Only the silence of the realm of Death answered him.
Death threats! Wow, the reviewers are getting violent!! Someone even called me a bitch!! But take into account that Sirius' Animagus form is a dog, and I consider that a compliment.
Okay okay, I'm sorry. I really like Sirius too, he's a great complex character and fun to write. But you did beg me not to kill the Weasleys. Be careful what you wish for. I wasn't actually planning on killing Sirius off originally, it just happened, like so many things around here. I was writing, and the next thing I know Sirius is dying in Harry's arms, completely out of no where, freak accident. I blame it on the coffee. But hey, what did I tell you all before? Nothing is as it seems, so just stick with me for now. *winks* Now the shit is really going to hit the fan. Enjoy the trip to hell.
I think I need to explain something here. Auror Spike Williams is not Spike from Buffy. I have never watched Buffy, so I actually have very little idea of who he is. I was online one night with some friends and I was looking for names for the Aurors in the Order of the Phoenix, and I came up with Cody "Spike" Williams, who is distantly based on a friend of mine. Apparently he has since bleached his hair and actually resembled Spike for a little while. Rather scary, really. So any of you who think I stole another idea and did not give credit for it, you're mistaken.
Clifjumpr13, again I blame this on you. One by one the penguins steal my sanity. Wait, they're too late. Never mix the Hamster Dance Song and "Die Hard". Congratulations to me! This is the one year anniversary of when I started writing this, on a single piece of paper on my bedroom floor. Now it's a handwritten 220 page monstrosity. Blah.
Disclaimer: In case you haven't already figured it out, I don't own anything. I steal it, play with it, and return it broken.
Chapter 23
It was early morning, when the sun had not quite reached the windows of the Gryffindor boy's dormitory. The five inhabitants were sound asleep, some snoring, some dreaming, but all was fairly quiet. That is, until Harry woke up. He shot up in bed, nearly screaming from his nightmare. He sucked in great lungfuls of air as he tried desperately to calm his racing heartbeat, the last vivid images burned into his mind like a lithograph.
Looking down at his hands, he could have sworn that just a minute ago they were stained with dark putrid blood, holding the lifeless body of his godfather. He let out a slow breath of relief, thankful for the bright sunlight that just peeked through his hangings. It brought everything back to reality. No, Sirius was alive and well, and when Harry went down to breakfast he would be there at the staff table sitting next to Remus. Or maybe not. He liked to sleep in.
Flopping back down on his pillow, Harry rubbed his face with his hands as if to wipe the last traces of his dream away. This one had been pretty bad, but then again he had suffered through images of all his friends dying at one point or another. They tended to be fairly violent while he struggled against something to reach them. Of course, once he began battling demons his subconscious had more to work with, and several times he had half- expected to wake up with blood matting his sheets.
Still, the worst one had been Ron and Hermione trapped underwater during the Second Task, and Harry was wrapped in the tentacles of the giant squid, unable to do anything but watch as they drowned. That one had woken him screaming and in a cold sweat for a week afterwards. Ruefully he reflected that Freud would have a field day with his dreams, and probably concoct some pseudoscientific sexual meaning behind them. Thank all the powers that be that they weren't real.
Shaking himself, Harry threw back the covers and hauled himself into the bathroom for a shower. When he returned to the dormitory, toweling dry his long tousled hair, the other boys were still sound asleep. They could sleep through just about anything, which was both good and bad. On one hand, Harry never had to worry about waking them up with his nightmares. On the other, waking them up for anything was very hard work.
Luckily the job of rousing them from Morpheus' nocturnal stranglehold was made much easier by the Weasley twins and their new gift to Ron. As a tribute to their fanaticism to Quidditch, they had developed a new alarm clock guaranteed to wake up their favorite brother, who, it was speculated, could sleep through the Quidditch World Cup played on his bed.
Of course, given the twins it was a rather unique gift. Personally Harry wondered why Ron had kept it, and not given it to some unsuspecting soul. But it did the tedious job of waking him up every morning, which was always a struggle. It also succeeded in waking up the others, more due to Ron's cursing and the ruckus he caused in attempting to shut it up than the actual alarm.
Just as Harry was buttoning up his shirt, Ron's new alarm went off at precisely 7:30 am. A mini-Bludger about the size of a Snitch rose with the whistle, and the small Beater bat whacked it at the lump of covers on the bed. There followed a series of muffled shouts and curses punctuated by solid thumps.
Harry watched with amusement as his best friend staggered out of bed, only to be smacked in the stomach by the mini-Bludger and fall back winded. Moaning and cursing, he stood again, ducked, then grabbed the bat and smashed the Bludger back into the case. Dropping the bat, he doubled over, clutching at his stomach and letting out a pain-filled rant that questioned the Bludger's material consistency and parental arrangements.
Dean poked his head out from his hangings and muttered sleepily, "Ron, isn't it time you learned some new curses to wake us up by?" Seamus laughed a little drunkenly as he rubbed his eyes. "Yeah mate, we've heard your whole litany by now. Get your girlfriend to teach you some new vocabulary." Neville snorted. "That'll be the day. Hermione Granger, cussing like a sailor while instructing on the proper conjugation of the word fu-"
Ron cut him off with a glare. "Bugger off." Grumpily he grabbed his towel and dressing robe as he headed for the shower, ignoring the snickers following him. His mood didn't improve when he remembered they had Potions first off this morning. Fortunately his mood lightened considerable when he saw Hermione waiting for him in the Common Room to head down for breakfast. A mental image of her cursing like a true Weasley made him snicker, but then a blush rose as he remembered what else she could do with that mouth.
Her grin made it all too clear that she could tell what he was thinking, and with a quick kiss laced her arm through his. "Harry and Ginny are already went down, so let's head for breakfast before they eat it all." Ron snorted, but reflected that Harry probably could put away most of it by himself. Damn his metabolism. Breakfast was still there when they arrived though, and the four friends chatted amicably.
All too soon the three sixth years were descending to the dungeons for another year of Potions with the Slytherins. It was still a bit early and the classroom wasn't unlocked yet, so they gathered outside with their housemates and listen to Parvati and Lavender gossip in low tones that they all heard anyway. Apparently Parvati had some Ravenclaw gossip from her sister Padma that Lavender hadn't spread around the school yet, and judging by their giggles it was quite juicy.
Unfortunately Draco Malfoy, as per tradition, had to start his favorite game of taunting the trio, Crabbe and Goyle backing him up but not adding anything to the scenery. "Well, if it isn't the famous Hogwarts ménage de trio. How are your two boys toys treating you, Mudblood? Like the filth you are?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Truthfully, I'm unable to comprehend why the fact that you are a "pureblood" makes you superior to others in anything other than the astonishing ability to inbreed."
Harry hid his smirk behind his hand, but Ron wasn't going to take any insult without getting in his own shot. "You would know about filth, Malfoy. After all, the apple never falls far from the tree, or in this case, crawls from the slime pit." Malfoy rounded on him with a scowl. "Protecting your Mudblood girlfriend? Just our luck boys, a next generation of bushy haired Weasleys is probably being bred right here in Hogwarts. Tell me, does she put out for you every night, or do you have to beg?"
Ron stepped forward with a cold glare. "Shut your mouth, before I seal it for you." Malfoy sneered up at him and flipped a blond hair out of his face. "Or what, Weasley? You can't do anything to me. Even if you tried, your slut of a girlfriend would stop you." Ron growled low in his throat and advanced on the smaller teen, but Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward with ham-like fists raised. Hermione stood next to Ron, not even trying to restrain him as her hand closed on her wand.
For several seconds the tableau froze, the onlookers silently cheering while keeping an eye out for Snape. Harry leaned casually against the wall, staying out of it as his eyes flicked back and forth while analyzing Ron's movements, and guessed what was going to happen next. He wasn't disappointed.
In a flash of movement both Ron and Hermione drew their wands and shouted separate spells before Malfoy's wand could even clear his robes. With a little light show and three pops of air, suddenly the three Slytherins were gone. In their place were two bowling pins and a dazed penguin.
Smiling viciously, Hermione cast a little hex on the penguin which caused it to squat down and curl up into a ball, tucking in its flippers. Ron stepped forward and gave it a good solid kick, right at the two pins. With a crash the pins went flying and clattered against the walls, but the penguin didn't stop. It kept rolling down the corridor to the end and bounced down a long flight of stairs.
The sixth years were silent until the last of the thuds echoed and died, then Harry started laughing quietly. It quickly progressed to full-on hysterics which the Gryffindors all joined in on whole-heartedly, making the dungeons ring. "That was brilliant!" Seamus choked out with tears streaming down his face, and Dean nodded so hard that, already off-balanced by his guffaws, he nearly fell over. "Malfoy, the Incredible Bowling Penguin! Classic!" Neville sniggered, "I like the two pin heads over there."
Ron grinned sheepishly as he blushed at the attention. He murmured in Hermione's ear. "That was a nice touch," and gave her a quick kiss. She smiled back at him. "Just curious, but why a penguin? I would think you would want the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, part deux." He shrugged. "First thing that popped into my head. No particular reason." He looked around at his chortling classmates, the two abandoned pins and the Slytherins trying to hide their amused grins behind not-quite-convincing scowls. Hermione giggled, and soon they were both shaking with paroxysms of laughter.
Showing a knack for timing, Snape chose that moment to appear, stalking down the corridor with his robes billowing out impressively around him. His dark eyes narrowed as he took in the scene and demanded icily, "What is going on here?" The laughter faded, and everyone stood glancing around at each other not wanting to answer and draw the professor's wrath on themselves. "Well?"
The awkward silence was broken by an indignant squawk of fury at the end of the corridor, and they all turned to see a very disgruntled penguin waddling towards them as fast as his flippered feet could go, wings stretched out to either side. Ron bit his lip to try and stop his smile, but when the penguin squawked again he quickly fell victim to a fit of sniggers.
Harry looked over at the Potions Master just in time to see him lose his fight against a small smile. Snape struggled to keep his voice notably stern as he asked, "Who is this, and what happened?" Pansy Parkinson managed a straight face as she said, "That's Draco, sir, and the two pins in the corner are Crabbe and Goyle." Dean gathered his courage and spoke up, "We were just being enlightened on the fine points of penguin bowling sir."
Smothered snickers erupted from the Gryffindors, and Snape blinked once in disbelief. Hiding his growing amusement behind his trademark scowl, he pulled his wand and with a wave the three male Slytherins popped back into their proper, if rather disheveled and beaten, human forms. Malfoy painfully got to his feet, wincing as he rubbed a hand over his bum and glared at Ron and Hermione. "Professor, these two attacked me unprovoked . . ."
Hermione interrupted him coldly, "Malfoy, quit lying and grow up." Ron added, "Next time, don't start something you can't finish. Never insult Hermione or my family again." He twirled his wand expertly through his fingers before pocketing it, winking at his girlfriend.
Snape sighed inwardly. What a way to start off this day. "Mr. Weasley, thirty points from Gryffindor for threatening a student and using magic in the corridors. Mr. Malfoy, thirty points from Slytherin for provoking an attack and showing appallingly bad judgment." As he swept past them all to unlock the doors, he added, "And detention, for letting a Gryffindor get the better of you." He stalked towards his desk, ignoring the curious murmurs and incensed fuming from the students. As they settled at their worktables, he began his lecture. "Today you'll begin the first stages of a Clarity Potion . . ."
Five minor accidents, twenty points and a melted cauldron later, the Gryffindors exited the dungeons to escape their idea of hell on earth. Ron groaned as they climbed the stairs. "We've Divination next. Only ten minutes to make it to the top of the North Tower. That's at the other end of the school." He looked hopefully at Harry. "Any way we could get up there without having to run?"
Hermione huffed a bit as Harry appeared thoughtful. "Honestly, you two should have taken something sensible, like Arithmancy. At least Professor Vector has the sense to keep the classroom accessible, and besides, she doesn't get her thrills by predicting which of her students is going to die." Ron grinned at her as he playfully protested, "But then how would we exercise our creative writing skills? She laps it up anyways. That was one of my best marks."
Harry smiled as they bantered back and forth all the way up the stairs, well aware of their form of flirting. Eventually Hermione broke off and headed down a corridor while the boys continued their trek upwards. Harry glanced over at his friend with a challenging look. "Race you." He took off like a shot, taking three steps at a time with Ron hot on his heels.
They bolted up several flights of stairs and were heading full tilt down the corridor towards the spiral staircase to the North Tower when someone unexpectedly stepped right into their path. Unable to stop, Ron slammed into the person and sent both to the floor in a tangle of limbs and panicked shouts. With his faster reflexes, Harry avoided the pile-up with a leap to the side, but his momentum carried him right into the stone wall. He hit hard and bounced off to land flat on his back with a painful thud and a whuff of air.
Groaning, he hauled himself up as Ron knelt on the floor, wheezing with a hand to his chest, the impact having knocked the air out of him. Next to him, a furious Professor McGonagall was trying to disentangle her legs from her robes and scramble to her feet, so livid that she was sputtering incoherently. Harry grimaced and offered his hand to his Head of House. "I'm sorry Professor, we were trying to get to class on time. We just came from Potions, and Divination is next, but it's on the other side of the castle and . . ."
She cut off his babbling with a stern glare; despite all his powers, she still had the ability to make him feel like a chastised first year. "Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, running in the corridors is not allowed. Ten points off for each of you." Ron sheepishly fetched her hat from across the corridor and handed it to her. "I'm terribly sorry Professor. Are you all right." McGonagall smoothed her hair back into a bun and replaced her hat. "I am unhurt. This time. Be more careful."
They both nodded, and her stern look faded into something softer. "Mr. Weasley, it is just as well that we ran into each other. I need you to come with me immediately to the Headmaster's office. A situation has arisen, and it concerns you. Your sister is also being called." She glanced at Harry. "You had better come too, Mr. Potter. Where is Ms. Granger?" Ron furrowed his brow in confusion as he said, "Arithmancy class. Professor, what is this about?"
McGonagall did not answer him as she led them back the same way they had come, albeit at a much slower pace, then made a side trip to Professor Vector's class and poked her head in. "Excuse me, but I need to speak with Ms. Granger. Gather your things; you won't be returning to class." Hermione joined them with her heavy bag slung over one arm, her expression confused as she took in Ron and Harry's presence. "Professor, what is this about?"
"The Headmaster wishes to speak to all of you." She swept down the corridor, three befuddled teens trailing after her in silence. Harry tried to think of all possibilities for their summons. Were they in trouble for the penguin incident? No, Snape had taken care of that as a student infraction, and any further lectures could wait. Besides, with Ginny also being called in, an Order meeting was the most likely, but what had occurred that warranted an emergency council in the middle of the day? Had another attack occurred last night?
His throat tightened as his nightmare flashed in his mind's eye, the horrifying sight of Sirius dying in his arms, but them he shook his head. That was just a nightmare, one of so many others he had every night. Just to make sure, he asked, "Professor, is Sirius all right?" His friends were startled out of their own thoughts to glance at him with concern, and McGonagall threw him a look over her shoulder.
"As far as I know, Black is perfectly fine. He wasn't involved." "Involved in what?" Ron asked anxiously, and she sighed. "Not here. The walls have ears, and eyes," she added with a frown towards a particularly cheeky portrait pausing in his flirtations with a buxom young maiden to watch the three teens with interest. He leaned over to whisper something in her ear, and she blushed and giggled as she too eyed them. They continued the journey in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
They were passing by the Entrance Hall when the doors slammed open, and reflexively the teens all pulled their wands to train unflinchingly on the figure silhouetted in the bright sunshine without. Harry squinted against the glare to attempt to make out a face, and the figure stepped forward into the Hall. Now the light threw his features into illumination, and Harry froze at the sight, groaning "Oh gods," wand slipping from nerveless fingers.
For suddenly, he remembered.
He was the clone.
The real Harry, disguised as Wraith, was currently walking towards them mechanically, steps echoing like gunshots off the silent stones, cradling the lifeless body of Sirius Black in his arms. For Harry, his nightmares were reality.
*****************************************************
Following Professor McGonagall's interruption, Albus Dumbledore led the rest of the Order from their chamber to the Hospital Wing along the back routes, careful of all the spying eyes. Once inside the infirmary, they locked the doors and hurried towards the screens at the far end. Pomfrey removed them, and Dumbledore drew up short, an impossibly sad look weighing his features down as the Order members drew in sharp breaths simultaneously. Remus gasped and shoved past him roughly to kneel beside the bed.
Sirius lay there, pale and unmoving, a marked contrast to his normal bundle of energy. Wraith stood above him, clenching his fists as he struggled to contain some unimaginable mix of emotions. Harry sat on the bed at his godfather's feet, nearly doubled over with his face buried in his hands. Ron and Hermione, both red-eyed and teary, hovered uncertainly between the two as if unsure of what to do.
Dumbledore murmured, "Is he . . ." Reluctantly Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Yes. He's dead. I'm sorry." Remus was blinking rapidly, trying to stop the tears as his face contorted in anguish, then with a howling scream he picked up a chair and hurled it with a lycanthrope's enhanced strength into the opposite wall, where it shattered on impact. Whirling, he punched blindly at the stones behind him hard enough that he seemed to be attempting to tear it down with his bare hands. There were distinct cracks as bones broke in both his hands.
As suddenly as it started, the storm passed and Remus slumped against the wall, panting as all strength left him. Slowly he sank down to the floor, tears running down his weary features as his shoulders shook. The Order had watched the last Marauder helplessly, but now Harry got up and knelt beside him. He wrapped his arms around him, and together they grieved while comforting the other, mourning Sirius.
Arthur wiped tears from his eyes and said, "I think we all need to know what happened last night." Ron started at his father's voice and turned to find his entire family gathered behind him. He walked over to join them in a Weasley hug, deriving comfort from their combined strengths. Molly especially hugged her children tight to her, as if trying to defeat the reality that she could lose them to this war by her love alone.
George heard a snuffling sound behind him, and turned from his mother to see Tori Black in another bed, gray faced and bandaged. His parents had informed him briefly of what had happened, and he felt a rush of gratitude towards his Auror trainer for protecting them. He walked over and sat by her bed, giving Tori a brief side arm hug just so he could see the shaky smile she projected at him, assuring him that she would be fine.
Slowly the Order settled down on beds and chairs in the Hospital Wing, and the events of last night were reported by Arthur, Tori, Dumbledore, and Professor Figg. The Headmaster swallowed hard once they were finished with the recount. "Casualty report. Seven Aurors were killed, including Spike Williams." Tori started and shot up from her bed, eyes wide and panicked as she exclaimed, "Spike is dead?"
Arabella nodded sadly, "Some demons overwhelmed him." Tori moaned as she fell back onto the bed, tears shining in her eyes. George was sitting next to her and held her hand comfortingly, rubbing his fingers in small circles over hers. Dumbledore looked over at Harry and Remus, then up at Wraith. "How did Sirius die?" Wraith was staring off into space, features arranged in a blank mask under all the grime. "I don't know," was the blank reply, and mutters rippled through the Order.
"Maybe you should start at the beginning," Snape suggested, for once without a trace of his usual ire. Wraith swallowed hard. "We were at my house, picking up the new Detection Parchments before heading out when the alarms went off. I let Sirius take the Shadow while I took a portal to the Minister's residence. We were trying to give them time to escape." Molly sniffed a bit, and Arthur put his arm around her comfortingly.
Wraith continued, "The demons had weapons, flamethrowers and grenades with their regular stuff. I was fighting on the ground while Sirius attacked from the air, driving them back from the house. Reinforcements arrived, and when I looked up, Sirius . . . he was unconscious on the bike. It was going to crash. A levitation spell caught the bike, but Sirius fell off. I caught him, but . . ." he gritted his teeth, "Those damn demons. When I reached him, he wasn't breathing. I . . . I tried everything I could . . . but . . . I couldn't . . . I couldn't save him . . . he died . . . right in my arms . . . I failed him . . ." His voice was catching as the emotionless mask began to crumble, but he fought against it, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.
Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I don't understand it. There's not a scratch on him." Indeed everyone else who had come back was covered with mud and minor wounds, but Sirius by comparison was perfectly fine and healthy, except for the obvious fact that he was dead. "The only logical explanation would be the Killing Curse or poison, but that's impossible."
Wraith barely heard her, staring down at his hands and trying to get them to stop shaking. The only problem was that he was having trouble feeling them, as if some of the signals were cut from his brain. Hermione noticed something, and gingerly she took one hand in hers, examining his palm closely. "Where did you get these?" She traced a finger over raised pustules that turned nasty shades of red and yellow with a tinge of green under the dark blood and dirt.
He looked blankly at her, then again at his hands, and suddenly his mind snapped into fast forward. Grabbing the arm . . . skin reaction . . . poison . . . burning corpses . . . paralytic . . . frozen muscles . . . ceased respiration . . . heart attack. He spun to the nurse. "What about an inhaled poison?" She considered it for a moment and nodded. "In a fairly high dosage, like an entire vaporized cauldron full."
Wraith turned away, breathing hard as he gritted, "Or smoke from a pile of burning bodies." He clenched his fists so tight that his nails drew blood and pus where they punctured the skin, but he couldn't feel it. "It's my fault." Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "What?" He shoved away violently, tears flowing unnoticed down his cheeks cutting clean trails through the grime. "It's my fault!" he shouted.
"I was the one fighting fire with fire. I'm the one who turned their weapons against them. Their skin is poisoned, see?" He brandished his blistered hands wildly as he strode around, ranting. "I tore its arm off with my bare hands and used it to beat them to death. Their skin burned because I was setting them on fire, and Sirius inhaled the smoke . . . and . . . it's my fault," he finished in a broken whisper. He leaned against the cold stone, turning his face towards it to hide from their eyes and to cool his hot face.
Ron approached him and laid a firm hand on his shoulder. "It was not your fault." Wraith's protests were silenced by a hand held up in front of his face. "No, it was not your fault. It was an accident. You had no way of knowing about the poison, and did not know that Sirius could have inhaled the smoke. You said so yourself, you did everything that you could to save him." Ron swallowed hard. "It was an accident. Don't you dare blame yourself for this."
Wraith didn't want to listen, but the truthful words penetrated his consciousness and forced him to actually make note of them. He simply stared back at his friend helplessly, unable to convey his grief. At that point Harry walked up and picked up Wraith's hand, inspecting it for himself. An arched eyebrow asked a question, and Wraith shook his head miserably, indicating Sirius' body.
Harry sighed, then pulled out a whistle to blow a few notes. A couple seconds later, Eredfire swept into the room to land on Harry's shoulder. He glanced at Wraith half sorrowfully, half reproachfully, then with a twitter he leaned down and dropped tears onto his hands. As they watched, the blood and pus disappeared as the poisoned blisters healed and sunk back into normal skin. Feeling returned, and he flexed his hands experimentally, then gave the phoenix a tiny smile. *Thank you.* The phoenix bowed.
Dumbledore walked over to place a hand on both their shoulders. "I believe you should go clean yourself up, Wraith. Harry, you may stay here with Remus for the time being. Ron, your family needs you right now. Hermione, you may do as you see fit. All of you are excused from classes for the day." Slowly the crowded Hospital Wing cleared out, until Harry was left with Remus who, exhausted with grief, fell asleep on the chair next to Sirius.
Harry watched them both with a million thoughts running through his head until Wraith came back in with damp hair but clean. "We need to talk," he said bluntly, and Wraith nodded solemnly. They settled face to face on the bed across from Sirius', glancing over at the still form on the bed. Harry exhaled heavily as he ran a hand over his face. "It was bad, wasn't it?"
Wraith frowned with confusion. "You should know," he said meaningfully. Harry shook his head. "That's just it. I don't. Something's changed. We're not the same anymore." He sighed. "Ron spotted it last night, and this morning . . . well, after Azkaban, I knew exactly what had happened, almost as if I was there myself. I remembered." He waved a hand, trying to explain. "It's like, you're the original, I'm the copy that gets updated with all your memories. Yet that connection is failing. This morning, I thought it was all a nightmare. It faded almost immediately. It wasn't real, not until I saw you."
He looked Wraith right in the eyes, helpless anguish and confusion written all over his face. "I forgot I was the clone." He shook his head. "I'm developing into a separate person from you. They're even treating us like separate people, different entities. And I can't help but think that this is bad."
Wraith grimaced. "Do you think that it's from being used too much?" Harry shook his head. "And Eva never warned you about anything like this. I don't think it's natural. Maybe it's grief, maybe the influence of the demons. I don't know." Wraith scrubbed a hand over his face and asked, "What do you propose we do? Rejoin and not separate again unless absolutely necessary?"
Harry sighed. "That's one idea. But I want to know what's causing this, and whether or not it will go away when we rejoin. What if we rejoin and now two separate personalities are in the same body? You'd have a very weird case of self-induced schizophrenia." He tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully, then shrugged. "We could continue as always and see what happens."
He eyed his double. "Get rid of that disguise. Let's see if something is different physically." Wraith shrugged and his features melted and rearranged back into Harry. The Harrys raked their eyes over each other critically, trying to find an anomaly on the other. They summoned up a full length mirror and started comparing side by side.
After a few minutes of this, the Weasley family walked back into the Hospital Wing to check on Harry, Hermione trailing behind with Ron. Molly froze in her tracks at the double image, and Fred and George promptly last their solemn faces to smiles that were vaguely reminiscent of their trademark grins. "Wicked! You've got a twin too!" The Harrys turned and said simultaneously, "Can you tell the difference?"
Ginny shook her head, and Ron stepped closer to inspect them, circling around like a hawk. "No, I can't tell the difference between you two. Your hair is even the same. Why do you ask?" Harrys sighed, "There may be a slight problem, but no matter." They stepped towards each other until their bodies touched and fused, then with a little bit of movement like stirring melted wax in fog, only one Harry stood before them.
Hermione asked, "What sort of problem?" Harry waved a hand distractedly. "On, just some communication failure. No big deal." His gaze returned to his godfather and his friend, and grief enveloped him again, reinforced by the double memories. He sat down heavily at the foot of the bed, and Molly walked over to give him a hug.
Arthur touched the teen's shoulder and said quietly, "Harry, we can plan the funeral if you want. Dumbledore pulled up his will, and Sirius wanted to be buried on Hogwarts grounds. He'll be celebrated as a hero, largely thanks to you." Harry nodded silently, unable to speak through the lump in his throat. After a few minutes, he managed to croak, "Where will you be staying now?" Arthur and Molly traded looks as their children all shifted uneasily.
"For now, at Hogwarts, even though it is a bit inconvenient. Later we'll rebuild our house, but probably not until after the war's over." Harry looked down at his folded hands, inwardly marveling at the hope these wonderful people still carried with them. "If you want," he began hesitantly, "you can stay at my house. It's empty at the moment, with plenty of space and lots of defenses." He swallowed. "It only seems fair, after you've given me a home for years, that I can try and return the favor."
Molly swiped at a couple of stray tears. "Thank you sweetie, but it's hardly a favor. You're part of the family too, you know. Family looks after their own." He nodded and turned away.
**************************************************
Harry was never exactly sure how he made it through the next few days. Everything blurred together like an acid dream until Sirius' funeral, which stood out in stark relief, crystal clear. Particular flashes stood out in his mind, like snapshots:
Remus in all black, face blank but tears rolling down his gray features.
Dumbledore, up at the podium giving a solemn address as Harry sat in front, surrounded by the Order.
A casket, festooned with flowers and cards, cleared off and slowly lowered into the soft dirt by the Whomping Willow.
A handful of dirt, slipping from his fingers into the new grave and scattering over the top of the shining wood.
Being hugged by Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, their tears wetting his dress robes.
Supporting Remus back to his quarters past the statue of the humpbacked witch on the third floor.
He didn't cry. He couldn't cry. He felt numb to it all, as if he were dispassionately watching a scene from outside his own body.
Later Harry lay wide awake in bed, unable to sleep. Feeling restless, he shoved the covers aside and they slithered onto the floor unnoticed as he got up, pacing as his mind whirled without really thinking of anything. A soft snort from Neville's direction reminded him that others were asleep here, and quietly he crept down to the Common Room. The large room appeared foreign to his eyes under the combined lights of the dying embers in the hearth and pale starlight through the window.
His eyes latched onto the window, and without thinking he strode over, flung it wide open, and climbed over the railing to scale the sides of the castle. Within minutes he lay atop the roof watching the stars, gravity wanting to tug him down the slanted surface but his body weight keeping him anchored. For a long time all was still.
Abruptly a swoosh of air startled him from his stupor, and then Ginny Weasley was there, hovering in front of him on her broomstick. She met his gaze unflinchingly as she dismounted and carefully lay next to him. "I was in the Common Room when you came down. I couldn't sleep either." He gave a faint nod, but otherwise might as well have been an edifice of stone. She sighed. "Harry, you haven't spoken in three days. We're worried about you."
A long silence followed, and Ginny propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. "We are friends, aren't we?" After a moment, he nodded and she continued, "Friends help friends when they're in trouble or hurt or whenever. They depend on each other. Your friends are your strength. Talk to me Harry. About anything. Please."
Harry just lay there, staring up at the stars and not feeling. His eyes drifted among the constellations, vaguely picking out familiar shapes until he found Canis Major with the Dog Star shining bright, low on the horizon just above the trees. Sirius. Looking at him. Suddenly he blurted out, "What does it matter?" Ginny shot him a puzzled look. "What does it matter whether I talk or not? Whether I feel or not? I'm a soldier. I'm here for one reason only, and that is to finish this war once and for all. If I care, the people I care about get hurt."
He rolled away, but she placed a hand on his elbow to prevent that. "Harry, it matters. You matter. As more than a soldier, or a tool. Everyone makes their own choices and we choose to care about you. I care about you, Harry. Not the Boy Who Lived, not the Phoenix Lord or the War Mage, just Harry." She gave a little smile in remembrance. "The boy I first saw asking how to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters five years ago."
Harry snorted bitterly. "You've always had a crush on me, on this image of me. Hard to forget the hero-worshipping little girl who watched me for five years, sticking her elbow in the butter." He grimaced. "You don't know me, what I've done." Ginny fumed, her eyes glinting with suppressed rage; he'd gone too far this time.
"Damn it Harry! Get your ego-swelled head out of that whipped arse of yours and listen to me! I had a crush on you, yes. Emphasis on the 'had.' You're my friend and I value that friendship. Part of being friends is accepting each other for who they really are, good and bad. I know at least some of what you've done and are doing. And as for knowing you," she snorted, "I don't think anyone really knows you, least of all yourself. Now quit moping around like a whipped dog."
He looked away from her furious expression, then asked sardonically, "Is this where I say, 'Great, that's one less stalker?'" He threw her a look over his shoulder and caught something in her face that made him feel suddenly reckless. "So if I leaned over and kissed you right now, you could honestly say that you wouldn't feel anything for me?" He stared intensely at her, as if waiting for her to crack under his emerald gaze.
Ginny blushed furiously at that thought, but answered steadily, "No. I couldn't. I still have feelings for you, so don't tease me like that." She sat up and curled her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "You know, I hate feeling this way. I love you but right now I really hate you. You're so difficult." She sighed. "Harry, I'm going to be honest with you. I'd like for us to be more than friends. But I know that it probably won't happen. No matter what, I want us to stay friends. You need a good friend more than a girlfriend, and I can accept that. Just don't turn me away."
Well that didn't go the way she had planned, and judging by the surprised look on his face, he hadn't expected that either. She had given him the verbal equivalent to a slap on the face, and now it was his move. They lay in silence for a long time, watching as the Dog Star rose higher over the trees. Ginny saw a shooting star arch overhead, and smiled as she remembered an old fairy tale, and from there her thoughts drifted into a half-dozing state.
Abruptly Harry spoke up. "There's one thing I really regret." She glanced over at his shadowy figure, and he continued, "I never had a chance to live with Sirius. To get to know him better, to hear more stories about the Marauders and my parents. To really have a family." A single tear sparkled in one eye, but with a blink it was gone. "Your family is great, and Remus can fill in somewhat, but it's not the same."
Ginny just looked at him, and soon the tear was back, this time with friends. "It's not fair," he croaked, and she gathered him into a hug as he broke down, salt glistening on both their faces in the pale light of the stars.
********************************************
on a faraway plain, an ancient city just visible in the distance, an man argued heatedly with a woman. He was as animated and fiery as she was icily calm and stoic, which only amplified the agitation he expressed at her. "Damn you, don't you get it?!" he yelled with exasperation, running a hand through his black hair. "I'm not supposed to be here!"
The woman gazed at him with implacable silver eyes. "Then where are you supposed to be?" "Back where I was! Back to my life! The place you just yanked me out of! I am supposed to be there, not here!" She responded gently, "Yet here you are." He glared at her with fire in his eyes, and his voice rose until he was bellowing, the words echoing through the empty space. "It wasn't my time, and you know it as well as I! Something's wrong! I'm not supposed to be dead!"
Lady Death shrugged minutely. "Be that as it may, Sirius Black, you are. You may not want to be here, nor are you supposed to, but here you are nevertheless." He rounded on her, demanding with narrowed eyes, "Why?" She simply stated, "It is not my call."
She turned away, but Sirius stepped around to block her. "What do you mean, it's not your call? You are Death, aren't you?" Lady Death nodded. "Yes, I am. But it is not my call, all the same." She walked around him and headed for the distant city, and he called back at her in frustration, "What the hell do you mean, it's not your call? Whose call is it then? Answer me!"
Lady Death said it softly, yet Sirius heard every word clearly. "Ask your godson." He stared at her retreating back, baffled out of his mind. "Huh? Harry? What does he have to do with this? Do you get paid more for being cryptic?! Shit!" Only the silence of the realm of Death answered him.