Loss
By Hpfan
Chapter III-Mess freaks and pillow wars
Harry looked around the room for something optimistic to point out. It was clear that neither one was essentially pleased with the place, but it wouldn't help to be brooding about it. Sirius finally walked around the place, taking it in. Beyond the filth, it was an adequately nice place. "Well." Harry started "Where do we start?" he asked in a tone that freely expressed his fake enthusiasm.
"More like where do we finish." Sirius responded. It wasn't a question. Sirius drew his wand and intensely coughed. "Lets at least clear up the dust a bit." With that, he uttered a spell, which picked up the layer of dust, swirled around their heads, and it whizzed out the window. The result was pleasing.
The room looked a whole lot better, despite the grime on the walls, and floor. Sirius tried a cleaning spell, but it didn't work too well. He conjured up some buckets and cleaning supplies, and they got to work. Harry went to the sink to fill the bucket with water, but found that it poured out a sickly brown liquid. "Ugh!" He bellowed, and shut the sink off. Sirius walked in the kitchen and looked at the bucket of brown water, and said a spell, which fixed the plumbing. Harry emptied the bucket, and filed it with clean water and soap. He set of for the living room, and began cleaning. Meanwhile, Sirius went outside to see what could be done.
They worked through the morning, stopping for lunch, which was a plate of sandwiches, and a pitcher of pumpkin juice, which Sirius got from Remus's house. They got back to work, and soon where so caught up in their labor that they didn't realize that they had spent the entire day there.
Sirius had fixed the fence around the property, and set wards around the house. The over-grown weeds in the back where obnoxiously hard to pull out, and the magical gnomes in the yard just didn't want to leave their nest. By the time the sun reached the horizon, Sirius was sweaty, and his skin was browned; a sharp contrast from the waxy, pale skin he had after he escaped Azkaban.
Harry came outside just as the sun set, and looked at the house. It was in a very secluded area, not unlike the burrow, except it had more trees. It had a huge back yard, with a stream running through it. The house wasn't huge. It had two floors, and looked as though it had been built fifty years ago. It was made out of stone, and the roof was slate.
Sirius told Harry to come inside, after they both admired Sirius's handy work. They walked through the door and his godfathers face contorted into a state of awe. The floors, after being mopped and scrubbed, shone with gleam from the glossy hardwood finish, and the walls, once grimy and sickly, where now a fresh off-white. The furniture covers where taken off, and the cushions where shampooed. The window glass was washed and polished, and everything was beautiful.
Sirius was having trouble putting together words. He gave up his stuttering nonsense, and settled on opening and closing his mouth, not finding his voice. Harry, slightly alarmed, but mostly amused, held back his laughter, and waited until his godfather came around. Finally, he let out a decipherable statement, "What did you do?'' he asked.
Harry was faintly disappointed at Sirius's reaction. He had worked very hard, and this wasn't the reaction he had hoped for. Letting a small amount of failure slip into his voice, he said, "You- you don't like it?" he asked.
"It's, uh-. Clean. And, it's- nice?" he said, still in amazement.
"What's wrong? I though it looked okay." He said.
"It's just that it, -it looks like we're neat freaks, or that women live here. I was hoping it would look kind of messy. Like ah, - I don't know. Like men live here." He said.
Harry was in shock; it took him a while to close his mouth. "Are you calling me a woman?" he asked in a very pissed-off, high-pitched voice, which threw off the effect. Sirius burst out laughing.
"No! No, I wasn't calling you a woman! I was just commenting that you clean like woman." He managed to say through his fits of laughter.
Harry was angry, and slightly confused. He had never been insulted that he cleaned too much before, maybe too little, but never too much. He was suddenly very mad. Something suddenly came over him, and he grabbed the first thing he saw (Which, fortunately for Sirius; was a large pillow) and threw it at Sirius.
It hit him hard in the face, and he immediately stopped laughing. He then grabbed another and lunged at Sirius. He began recessively hitting him with it. Sirius grabbed a pillow from the couch and hit Harry with it. Harry said, "I may clean like a woman, but at least I don't hit like one. Oh, sorry, didn't mean to insult women." Sirius glowered and hit him harder, and soon they where in an all out pillow war.
Sirius soon abandoned pillows, and began tickling him, mercilessly. Harry, who was outrageously ticklish was defenseless to it, and was rolling on the floor in a heap of pillows. Suddenly there was a pop, and Remus Lupin was standing in back of Sirius. Harry swallowed the urge to scream for help, and gave him an urgent look as he laughed.
Lupin nodded, and suddenly Harry stopped being tickled, and heard his godfather's laughter. It seemed that Sirius had been hit with Rictusempra. Sirius, pulled out his wand, trying to say the counter-spell, but in his weak state, Harry easily grabbed it from his and twirled it while Sirius was laughing while scowling, which was a very humorous sight.
Harry nodded to Lupin who in turn, said 'Finite Incantatem'. Sirius abruptly stopped laughing and yelled, "No fair! A third party's against rules."
Harry just smirked, saying "Alls fair in love and pillow wars." Sirius just scowled back. "So, mister mess freak; truce?" he asked. Holding out his hand. Sirius shook it. Harry was tired, and his back had not improved from the events of the day. He looked around the room. It was full of feathers and pillow fluff. "Well, you got your way. The room is a mess! If you want to live like a pig then don't let me stop you. Let me just say that if it starts to smell, I won't hesitate to throw all your stuff out!"
Sirius looked appalled. "God Harry, I'm so sorry I was in Azkaban; look what the Dursley's did to yo-." But he stopped dead at the look on Harry's face. Harry stopped his smirking, and seemed to go numb. There was a sudden prickling sensation that overcame him, and the instinct to run came over him. He took a shaky step backwards, and almost tripped over a pillow. He backed into a wall, and sunk down against it.
Sirius approached him, but he just pressed himself against the wall harder, almost willing it to let him sink into it, and disappear. Sirius just sat down next to him with a remorseful look on his face. Harry looked down, and Sirius sighed, and began talking, "Look. I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry if the way I put it wasn't very considerate. It was a joke. I guess I should have thought before I spoke." Harry suddenly felt a wave of fatigue fall over him. It had been a long day, and tomorrow would be even longer.
"Can I please just find a bed to sleep in? I'm tired." He asked in a weary voice.
"I guess since there are beds here, we can sleep. We'll fix them up tomorrow, and then we'll get out stuff from Remus's house." And without a further word, Harry trudged his way up the stairs toward the first room he saw, which turned out to be a bathroom. So he went to the next room and lie down on the bed, and fell asleep instantaneously.
___
Harry woke the next day to find that he had not changed into nightwear, and he looked a mess. His clothes where rumpled, and his hair stood wildly on his head. His face hurt because he had forgotten to take his glasses off, and he smelled foul from not taking a shower after the hard labor he preformed the previous day. He sat up and heard his back crack. He felt stiff all over from not showering, and easing his painful joints. He stood up, painfully and made his way to the door.
When he stepped out of the makeshift bedroom, he spotted his trunk in the hall, and without commenting, he grabbed a set of clean (and overlarge) clothes, and headed off for the bathroom he had mistaken for a bedroom the preceding night.
After showering for a good twenty minutes, to sooth his aches, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He wiped the foggy mirror pane with his arm and looked at his reflection. He had changed a whole lot since the end of the last school year. It must have been all of the chores that his…aunt had assigned for him. His scrawny exterior had disappeared, and a small amount of muscle surfaced. Nothing outlandish, but still, it was noticeable.
Harry ran his hands through his hair, and tried smoothing it back with a comb, and it looked somewhat better. The mirror barked, "Try some hair gel!" and he shot a nasty glare at it. Harry changed into a tee shirt and rolled his trousers to knee height. It was going to be a long day in the sun.
He walked down the stairs to find that Sirius was sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal. Harry stood in the doorway and Sirius looked at him. "Morning. I've taken the liberty of going shopping." He said. Harry looked at the bowl of cereal and took it that Sirius wasn't the best cook.
"Morning." And without saying anything, he looked around the kitchen, trying to get acquainted with all of the things that where used for cooking. Finally, after he familiarized himself, he set off, making an omelet. "If soggy cereal doesn't do it for you, I can make you one too." He said when he was half way through making his own.
"Thanks." He said, taking a sip of coffee. ('At least Sirius can make coffee.' Harry thought) Harry finished breakfast ten minutes later, and he served it with bacon on the side. Sirius was just opening his mouth to speak when Harry cut in with, " Fair warning; the next comment you make will affect whether you eat cereal, or not. I advise you not to say anything at all if it includes the words Betty Crocker, or Martha Steward!"
Sirius immediately shut his mouth. He took a bite and looked up with wide eyes. "Wow! This is good" he said, then they grew silent. The post came in with a letter from Ron, and the Daily Prophet. The note was pretty short.
Harry,
Where are you? Mum had a fit when she read the Daily Prophet! I'm a bit alarmed myself. When it said that your relatives where dead, I spit orange juice all over Ginny! Let me just say, that I don't believe it when they said that you were even partially to blame.
At this, Harry stopped. His eyes grew big as plates, and his eyes drifted to Sirius, who was still reading the paper, before he looked down at the letter.
Anyway, I assume that you're staying with Sirius, but if not, tell me.
Ron
Harry looked at Sirius again. "Sirius." He said in order to get his attention. "Why do you think Ron wrote to me saying that I was blamed for the Dursley's?" He said in a mock innocent voice. Sirius just put on an, 'uh oh, I'm busted' face, and hissed a breath through his teeth.
"See, uh, the Daily Prophet kind of, said that you where somewhat responsible for your realities death."
"Yeah, and where would they get that idea? You told me that they wrote that restless death eaters where to blame. Number one; why did they blame me, and number two; why did you lie?"
Sirius squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, and looked shamefully at him. He silently got up and handed him a newspaper that was in his pocket. "Now I don't want you jumping to conclusions. I want you to talk to me, don't just freak out and do something you might regret. Remember, the press always blows things out of proportion."
Harry Potter's Relatives Dead…coincidence?
In the home of Number four Privet Drive, the bodies of three individuals; Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley, were found dead. While most do not think this significant, as they are non-magical, it had also been discovered that they are blood realities of Harry Potter. Above the house was the dark mark; a legendary sign that it is as a result of dark magic. Most assume that it is behavior of restless death eaters, such as the activity of those who participated in the tragedy of last years quidditch world cup. We [The Daily Prophet] have done some investigating, and have found that this is just one of a number of cover-ups by the Ministry of Magic.
The reason behind the tragedy is quite complex. Special precautions had to be taken in order for Harry Potter to live in a muggle residence. Many wards where constructed over the summer because of the growing number of attacks on muggles, and with these wards came a complex spell known as Spesonific sapenoda, a spell preformed by a powerful witch or wizard (In this case, headmaster Albus Dumbledore) without the knowledge of the person affected by it.
The spell is a ward that protects the building that he or she resides in at the current time (It moves with the person so they are always protected. While traveling the street, the person will become untraceable to all those wishing to cause him harm. Therefore, the boy would always be protected while under it.)
Neighbors report seeing Potter leave the house dragging a trunk and bird cage with him. We have been informed that the boy left the house with no intent to return.
An interview with Professor Dumbledore, who claims that you-know-who has risen, has testified that he [You-know-you] is after Potter, and put up wards of his own, thinking that Dumbledore had set protection spells on the house, instead of on the boy in general. Whenever the boy left his home on Privet Drive, You-Know-Who's wards would be set off, and he must have assumed that the wards fell and that it would be wise to attack him while he is vulnerable, and lacking a wand at reach.
He-who-shall-not-be-named apparently went looking for the boy-who-lived, and when he found the boy absent, became infuriated and tortured and killed the three muggles. While no one can prove the rise of he-who-shall-not-be-named, we have a large amount of evidence in favor of the theory.
We are not positive about the whereabouts' of Harry Potter, but we are certain that he is in no harm, and will remain in a safe area for the remainder of the summer. We at the Daily Prophet would like to send out our gratitude for the death of yet another loved one of Harry Potter. May our thought be with you, and all of those who have lost kin in attacks by death eaters.
Harry slowly put the paper down. Inside of him, a million emotions whirled around, fighting to surface, until numbness overcame him, and he almost collapsed with exhaustion. Once again, that all to familiar shiver shot down his spine. He felt the urge to scream till his voice went numb, or yell to the world of how unfair his life was, or cry until the he became too dehydrated, and the tears couldn't come, and he wanted to hit something. He couldn't move. Almost couldn't draw air. Finally the feelings inside of him gave way, and he did the only logical thing that occurred to his mind. He laughed.
Later, it was probably the most bizarre thing he could do, but he laughed. It was nothing to make heads turn; he just quietly chuckled. It was his eye's that were scary. His eyes turned a dark, almost forest green color- a sharp contrast to his regular emerald green. Then he began getting louder. It was a dry laugh, containing no emotion. He just sat there laughing with chilling, dark green eyes that looked like he was withholding something.
Sirius looked very alarmed. Like he just found out that there was an insane madman in his kitchen. Harry just laughed harder. He laughed until his voice ached. Sirius just sat there. Possibly too scared to do something, or perhaps curious to see what Harry would do next. After a minute of no-holds laughing, he suddenly buried his head in his arms sobbing.
He cried and cried; sobbing wracked over his body like waves crashing over him, crushing him to the ground, until all he could do was lay there and drown in the sea of emotion. It took him a moment, but he suddenly realized a key factor. There were no tears spilling down his face. There was no burning sensation in the back of his eyes. Had it not been for his sobs, no one would notice he was even crying. It was not in sorrow he cried; nor in grieving, but because he was so frustrated. He had had enough of everything being on his shoulders. Tired of everything always being his fault. He was tired of things he didn't want anything to do with suddenly becoming his business. He wanted to give it up! To let someone else feel the responsibility of having to fight Voldemort.
Finally, he wore himself out so badly that he couldn't muster up the strength to weep any longer.
Sirius was still staring at him as though he had grown an extra head. Suddenly, his eyes glazed over as they had done two nights ago. Sirius quickly snapped out of it, and stood up, and quietly walked to the seat closest to Harry. They sat there for quite a while, in an awkward silence that was broken only by Harry's heavy breathing from his outburst.
Sirius finally sighed in a poor attempt at breaking the stillness. "Firstly, before I go and make a fool out of myself trying to comfort you by saying something that is totally irrelevant to what's wrong, may I ask what's bothering you?" he said in a discouraged voice.
Harry didn't know what else to do. Even in his sorry state, he still felt embarrassed for his insane behavior. He still wasn't sure what had possessed him to laugh like that. "I- I really don't know! Everything in the world just seems to be crashing down on me. It's totally my fault. Everything. If I hadn't left the house, the wards wouldn't have gone down." Harry could have gone on for hours, but something held him back. Something always held him back. He had built up a block of emotions, and feelings, and when times where bad, he could never confess anything; He never told anyone his feelings. He just let them build up inside of him.
"Harry, it's not your fault. It was never your fault. Don't take your frustration out on yourself; just remember, Voldemort did everything. If you're going to be angry at anything, let it be him." Harry didn't respond. He didn't know how to respond. He had just woken up, and yet he was exhausted.
"Can I-Can I just go back to bed? I don't feel well. I- I just want to go back to sleep. This all happened too fast." He said in a desperate voice. Sirius looked hesitant. He sighed again.
"Alright, you can go. Just- be willing to talk about this more when you wake up. You know we need to, and putting it off will just intensify the problem. I'll wake you up in two hours okay?" he asked. Harry just nodded.
As he headed up the stairs, Harry felt a new feeling overwhelm him; defeat. He just wanted to crawl in a hole and pretend to be asleep for the rest of his life. He looked at his bedroom from the corner of his eye, but decided that he might as well splash some water on his face first. It was early in the morning, and falling asleep in the middle of the day wasn't healthy.
He walked in and once again looked in the reflection that stared back at him. His eyes held that look of solitude from the rest of the world. He was the boy-who-lived, and he would never be 'just Harry' again. He was different from everyone else. He turned on the faucet and let the cold-water burn over his face, sending him sputtering for a towel. He sat there for a few moments, wandering what he should do.
He suddenly saw a glint, and noticed the shiny metal of a razor sitting on the shelf of the cabinet. He picked it as if it was made of glass. He silently stared at it. He didn't know if he dared do it. It wasn't the courage he lacked, but he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. He didn't want to consider the outcome if the world found out what the Boy-who-lived did in his spare time. It wasn't a trait smiled upon. And what if Sirius found out?
Suddenly, his eyes became darkened with inner turmoil. 'SO WHAT?' the pist off side of his brain hollered. 'The world around me is turning into living hell. I'll do what I want!' The other side-the logical side- retorted 'that doesn't mean you should go around cutting yourself. Go talk to Sirius if you feel this way.'
'Sirius.' He thought. 'I want to talk to him; I just can't. I don't know why. I guess I'm probably bothering the man to death with all of my stupid problems. I'll settle this my own way.' And he raised the hand holding the razor…
End Chapter III-Mess freaks and pillow wars
Thanks for reading, luv ya, but I'll luv ya so much more if you review!
Notes to the readers: Well, uh… *Ducks flying tomato* I know, cutting?! On my behalf, it was my muse that did it. You can't blame me. I was just a shell! Have you ever seen that show Animorphs? You know how the little slug thingy's go into the peoples ears, and take over their minds? Well, it was like something took over my mind and wrote the story. I would get rid of it, but now parts of the story are kind of entwined with it. It won't be a major part of story, but it may happen one more time, maybe two, tops. I'm sorry if that's not your cup of tea. That was what I meant by controversial.
Responses to the reviewers:
Starlette- Thank you for your reviews. Wow, two people came back to my story. (And those people happen to be the only ones who reviewed) You should have taken a guess. I love knowing the opinions of my reviewers. I wonder if you thought that Harry was going to Azkaban, like SarahPeach did. I went back to read it and it could be… but it wasn't. I don't plan on abandoning it. I don't think I would actually plan on abandoning a story though. Some times you just go blank on what to write. That's why I've already written seven chapters so far; in case I can't write much for a while. Thank you for your review, and for putting me on your fav list. That means soooo much to me!
Sarahpeach- Yeah, uh, I felt bad all week after your review, cause I wanted to tell you, no, that's not what is going to happen! Of course I wouldn't send Harry to Azkaban. *Cradles stuffed Harry doll to my chest* I wuv him way too much to ever do that to him. Yeah, let me try and put that part of the chapter in synopsis (Don't you just love that word?). See, Harry went down the stairs, and heard Sirius and Remus talking about something they weren't going to tell him. He went into the kitchen and pretended not to know what they had said. He knew that whatever it was, it was in the newspaper. You found out what was in the paper. See Remus told Sirius not to tell him. And for good reason too. See what happened? Well, I hope I cleared that up for you.
So, how was your prom? I hope the cut your friend got wasn't a bad sign. I think that it's ironic; that you think that it's ironic that that chapter was ironic, when it is called 'Murphy's law, or irony at the very least'. Isn't that ironic? Wow, look at all the times I used ironic… that's ironic! Well, I hope that that was long enough for you. I love writing, even if it is review reviews! I'm sure you drew that conclusion by all of the hugely long reviews I gave you, I hope you didn't find them annoying, I sure don't.
Next Chapter: Dreams, Cuts, and Bitter Hot Chocolate. I guess you can conclude what happened at the end of this chapter by the title of this next one. We have a look at Harry's subconscious through his dreams, but it's more of a settling chapter, nothing big happens. Hope you like it. Heck, I hope you haven't ditched my story already!