A/N: Well, this is another 'SongFic' on Harry Potter. Once again, we're focusing on the theme of Harry accepting Sirius' death. Please read and enjoy!
Diclaimer: Harry and all of his little friends, teachers, relatives, enemies, and everyone/thing else belong to Miss J. K. Rowling...perhaps you've heard of her? ; ) The lyrics to the song 'Iris' belong to the awesome band The Goo Goo Dolls. That being said, let's move on to the story.
IRIS
Written by SiriusBlack4Ever
Inspired by the song 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls
o
And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to Heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't wanna go home right now
o
Harry Potter was sitting on the curb, a few blocks away from Number 12 Grimmauld Place. There had been an Order meeting going on in the kitchen in the basement, so it had been easy for him to just quietly slip out of the house unnoticed. He was sure that, once everyone found out he had left Headquarters by himself, he would be in for it. But he didn't care. Small things like that didn't matter to him anymore.
He was just sitting there, staring at the street in front of him. He knew this was a stupid idea, as any one of Voldemort's supporters who were not in Azkaban could just come up to him and take him right now, but frankly, like so many other things, he didn't care. He didn't care about anything, except for Sirius, who had now been taken from him. Sirius was the only thing on his mind these days, and that left no time for anything else, as Harry was in a constant battle with himself over all the things he could have done to prevent his death.
He was thinking of Sirius now, in fact. Actually, that seemed to be the only thing that he had been doing lately. That, and throwing things around his room in his anger. For the most part, people left him alone. He was suspecting that Ron, Hermione and Ginny were even slightly scared of him now, and that they didn't want to be near him. Again, this was just fine with Harry. The fewer people he had to face, the better.
But Remus, as Harry was now asked to call him, seemed to feel that Harry was in need of someone to talk to. Harry agreed – he did need to talk to someone, just not Remus. The person he needed to talk to was Sirius, but seeing as how that wasn't exactly possible, he couldn't.
But that didn't stop him from dreaming about it. He longed to be able to see Sirius, to talk to him, to touch him. He'd give up his whole life just to be able to do that. And, from somewhere deep inside of him, he knew that Sirius could somehow feel him, or feel these thoughts that he was having. He knew that Sirius knew how he felt, but the thing was, he also knew he couldn't really do anything about it.
Harry suddenly shouted out to the air in front of him, "Why Sirius? Why? WHY?" He broke down into sobs, and clutched his stomach, his face resting in his legs. He could feel Sirius right now, and he knew that Sirius knew what he was going through again. Harry knew he was probably in Heaven looking down at him right now, thinking about how stupid and pitiful he looked, just sitting on an unknown street corner, screaming to no one in particular, and crying his eyes out. Harry thought that Sirius was probably the closet to Heaven that he'd ever get to, considering that he would eventually, if all things worked out, have to kill someone.
Harry's sobs lessened a bit, but still continued, and although it was growing dark, he didn't really feel like going home tonight. He wanted to just stay here, stay here and cry until everything was out of his system, before he had to fill up with the unpleasant thoughts and memories again. So he remained on the curb, until the sun had completely fallen behind the trees in the yard in front of him, and he was left in darkness.
o
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
And sooner or later it's over
I just don't wanna miss you tonight
o
He was once again thinking of that horrible moment back in the Department of Mysteries. This was one of the things he thought about the most, the one thing that was on his mind almost 24/7. He could practically taste the moment on his lips, was almost breathing Sirius' life through his mouth, and the thought just continued to haunt him constantly.
He had never even stopped to think about Sirius dying. Of course, why should he have? He was, after all, still quite young, and was in as good of a condition as anyone. So his death never even crossed Harry's mind. However, he knew that he should have thought about this, since sooner or later, everyone that he loved and cared for would end up dying for him, and their life would be over.
Still, though, it seemed like Harry thought about this too much – he knew he thought about it too much. For one night, just one night, he wished that he could just not miss Sirius. He wished that, for just this once, he wouldn't have to miss Sirius tonight. But, as always, that was an impossible task.
o
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
o
Harry suddenly heard voices calling his name, and although they were still soft, he knew that there were people out looking for him and would soon find him. So, he quickly stood up, and started to walk away from the voices. He didn't want any of them to see him like this; in fact, he didn't want any of them to see him at all.
Nobody understood him anymore. They all thought that he needed to be treated with extra care and sensitivity for a while, and then all of his problems and issues would be fixed, and he would be all right again. Well, he had news for them: they were wrong.
Nothing in his life could be fixed. Everything seemed to happen to him, and it bothered him that it was so. He couldn't believe that people thought that just by paying him some more attention, he would be fine again. He was just someone who was made to hurt, who was made to have everything in his life become broken. He knew this, so he didn't see why everyone else didn't.
He just wanted everyone to know this; he just wanted them all to know who he was. He wasn't some brave hero to the wizarding world who never got upset or hurt, and who never had any problems. He was, in fact, the exact opposite. He wanted everyone to know that he was this scared, powerless little teenager, who, if he didn't fulfill the wizarding world's expectations and kill Voldemort, and he himself ended up dead instead, that the wizarding world, and most-likely the muggle world as well, would cease to exist.
He hated this Prophecy that had been placed upon him. He didn't understand why it had come to him in the first place. I mean, he could have just been an ordinary little kid, but no; he had to have this damn Prophecy on his shoulders, condemning him to a horrible life filled with pain and misery.
o
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
And you bleed just to know you're alive
o
Harry desperately wanted to cry at the moment, to release some more of the pain that he hadn't been able to let go of yet, but there were no tears that could be shed. They all seemed to have dried up, leaving him even more miserable than before. He once again sat down on another curb, and thought some more. He could still hear the voices, but they had become fainter, so he wasn't worried about them finding him – yet.
He began to think back to his fifth year again, and thought of all the lies he had told, all of the mistakes that he made. And he finally realized something; maybe, just maybe, if he had been more open with his thoughts and feeling, Sirius wouldn't have died. Maybe if he would have listened closer to what other people were saying, and what other people were talking to him about, Sirius would be here right now.
That was the one truth in all his lies; if it wasn't for him, Sirius would be here right now. Finally, one lonely tear, escaped his eye, and fell down his cheek. He felt like he was in a horror movie, his life being the subject of the story. It starts out with a cute little boy and his parents, and then some evil, scary villain comes and kills them, and from there, things only seem to go downhill. Sure, there's a few times when things seem as though they're about to be all right, but something bad always has to happen, making his life horrible.
Harry felt like he wasn't alive anymore. The only thing that ever reminded him that he was, was the pain that he felt. He needed to feel the pain again, but since he was already so full of emotional pain, it wouldn't feel any different to make himself think of Sirius. Then he decided to make himself feel the physical pain. So, looking into the street, he found a piece of glass from a broken bottle, and quickly slid it over his wrist.
He winced, and let out a scream of pain. Then he clapped a hand to his mouth. Everyone would now know where he was now, and they would find him here. Nice move, he told himself. However, upon looking down at his wrist, he discovered that yes, he had felt the pain, and yes, he was bleeding, meaning that yes, he was still alive. He tried to shake away the disappointment that was clouding over his mind.
Harry heard the voices that were calling his name becoming louder, and soon heard footsteps cantering towards him. He didn't bother looking up, because he knew who would be there. The people stopped in front of him, and he saw three pairs of feet standing there.
"Harry!" Hermione yelled, even though she was standing right next to him. "What are you doing out here? Are you all right?" Harry said nothing, so Ron tried talking.
"Harry, mate, what's wrong with you?" he asked him, his voice sounding nervous. "We heard you scream. Did something happen?" Harry just stood up, and without sneaking one glance at them, started to walk off down the block.
His wrist swayed with his arm on the side of him, and since it was still bleeding, blood shot through the air behind him, landing on the ground in front of the trio.
"Merlin," Remus whispered, looking over at Harry's moving figure. "Harry, did you do this to yourself?"
Harry stopped, but still didn't face him. "Harry," Lupin said gently. "Why are you doing this? Why do you run away like this, and then hurt yourself? It's dangerous, Harry! It's dangerous!"
Harry felt more of the tears stinging his eyes, and then whipped around to face them, finally meeting their gazes. They all looked shocked to see the hurt expression in his eyes, which had seemed to cloud over and become a dark, forest green color. Finally, after breathing in one loud breath of air, and slowly letting it back out, he spoke.
"Why?" he asked them, the tears falling freely now. "Why? I'll tell you why: the only thing in my life that's ever seemed to be right has been taken from me. Sirius is gone, and without him, I don't have a life. All I have is a black nothingness which is called life."
The next thing he said surprised all of them, and made them all reconsider whether it would be better for him to be an Auror or a philosopher.
"You don't understand, do you?" Harry asked them, knowing full well that they didn't. "You see, we're all put on this Earth for a purpose, a purpose which is sometimes unknown to even the best of us. Sometimes the purpose's for which we live are wonderful, and they actually mean something. But for others, such as myself, the purpose is dark and weary, and you regret the day when you have to face it. Deep down, you know you have to, since this is how your life was planned, but you still hope, you still dream, that maybe, just maybe, you'll die before then and that purpose won't be fulfilled, won't happen. You always hope that someone was wrong, that they were unclear when they made your life, and that it's all a mistake and you can change it. But again, it's not right."
"Hopes and dreams are just something to make your life's purpose more bearable. They make it so that it's easier for you to hold on, but in the end, it's really our hopes and dreams that let us down, because none of them can come true. None of them are real. They're just figments of our imaginations, planted there for us to think about until we realize that they don't exist, that they never were and never will be. My life is like that; I have to kill or be killed, and neither are very rewarding for me, since both come with consequences. However, I prefer being killed, for that is one consequence that I am not afraid of. As Dumbledore once told me, 'Death is but the next great adventure'. So, hopefully, I will be the one killed, and Voldemort will be the one that lives."
Everyone else was too shocked to speak for a moment, but finally Remus spoke up. "You don't mean that, Harry," he said, and anger replaced the cloudiness in Harry's eyes.
"Yes I do!" he said, the tears fogging his glasses. "I do mean that! My life is just one huge, gaping hole, and any relief from that would be satisfying for me!"
"Maybe for you, Harry, but not for us," spoke up Hermione, whose eyes also showed tears. "Can you imagine what it would be like for us if you were gone and Voldemort was in control? Voldemort would probably just keep us alive in pure spite of torturing us. Could you really do that to us, Harry? Could you really do this to yourself?"
Harry looked at her, and realized that she was right. He could never do that to them, much less himself, and he finally slumped to the ground. All three sets of arms were suddenly encircling him, and he felt himself saying, "I'm just so scared."
"I know, Harry," Lupin said soothingly. "I know. But remember, we're here for you. Even if it means that we have to die for you, we'll be here, every step of the way until that day comes."
"But I couldn't bear to loose any of you now," Harry said. "It's already horrible enough without Sirius, but without all of you too, well, I don't know what I'd do with myself."
"You'd live a life happily ever after, Harry," Hermione said, and Ron nodded.
"You don't need us to be happy, mate," he said. "All you need is yourself and your dreams. With them, you can accomplish anything. Just remember to never let go of your dreams, because they do mean something, Harry. They're not just here to be a fantasy, though that is what they will be if you don't try. But if you put them to good use, and you try to accomplish them, you can."
Smiling, Harry whispered, "Thank-you," and the trio around him hugged his body tired. Then they all got up and walked back to the house, each one feeling happier than before.
Thanks for reading this SongFic - it's much appreciated! I hope you enjoyed it!
Always,
SiriusBlack4Ever