Author's Alert: Okay, well I'm feeling better now. Thanks everyone for your concerns. Sinus infections are terrible, and no, none of you got me sick via the net. (grins) Although if those were your intentions, thank you! You got me a day off of school. (wink)

Well, aside from that, here it is. Chapter the Last. I'm really happy that this was so successful. I hope that it continues to be. I'd like to break 200 reviews for a story, but my true goal these days is 1000. I know, I know, I can keep dreaming. After all, that's pretty much what my existence is based off of these days anyway. Dreams.

Sad, isn't it?


At first, there was nothing but silence. Eerie, impenetrable silence that rang heavily in his stuffy ears. Harry groaned, but only slightly. He couldn't get his eyes to open. Something wet and heavy lay across them, but it was more of a blessing than a nuisance. The cold compress slightly relieved the pressure that had been building behind his eyes over the past few minutes. It was also refreshing to the touch, because where ever Harry was, it was quite humid. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make him wonder even more about where he was, and what had just happened. He tried to bring back memories of the past few days, but failed. Everything was a blur. A strange, distressing blur, as though all of this had been nothing more than a happy little dream. Or a dream, at least; very little about it had been very happy.

Groaning again, Harry reached up to pull off the compress...and immediately became aware of another one of the rag's uses; it had effectively drown out the glittering rays of sunlight that were just beginning to filter through the eastward facing window.

It was morning. Harry was certain because everything was amazingly quiet. Mrs. Weasley wasn't clattering about in the kitchen yet in the process of making everyone breakfast.

Wait, Harry thought all of a sudden. I'm not at the Weasley's house.

Then where was he?

Harry sat up immediately and began to look around. He became aware of his location very quickly. A hospital room, though this one was different from his room in the mental ward. There were groups of chairs gathered in different and random areas of the room. As few as twenty, Harry might have guessed. It was decorated here and there by cards and flowers, and candy from well-wishers and supporters. Much to Harry's amusement, a toilet seat sat among the throng of more admirable gifts. A donation and rather old inside joke from the Weasley twins no doubt.

With a grin, Harry reached to his left and pulled his glasses up off of the bedside table. He was immediately startled by an unexpected presence; asleep in a chair with his head rested upon his enfolded arms atop the hospital bed, was Sirius Black. The man's face was ashen and tear streaked. It seemed to Harry that he had lost a great deal of weight in a very small amount of time, for he had a pinched and unhealthy look about him. His frail, grief-worn body trembled with every breath.

Harry sighed sadly. Looking down, he saw Sirius' right hand laying unclenched atop the bed sheets, resting barely an inch away from Harry's own.

The sight of his godfather in such a depressing state was the only thing that kept Harry from throwing himself at Sirius. He had missed him, to the point of nearly killing himself in hopes of seeing him again. Harry had done all he could and more to get here now to Sirius' side, but a few more minutes, Harry thought, wouldn't hurt. On the contrary, a few minutes were nothing in contrast to the time frame Harry had once imagined stood between him and this man before him here. A few minutes was nothing...in comparison to a lifetime.

Harry could wait.

He could do better than wait, he realized as he ran his tongue over his teeth. He could clean himself up as well. A comb through his hair and some soap on his face would definitely be a nice relief after having lain in this bed for God only knew how long.

Quietly, Harry slipped from his bed, careful not to disturb his sleeping godfather. Upon walking into the bath attached to his room, Harry quickly changed his mind. The quick wash he had been planning abruptly evolved into a full fledged shower. "A haircut wouldn't be too bad of an idea either," Harry commented, patting down the typically messy mop that constituted as hair as he peered into his rather unnerving reflection in the mirror. Of course, an attempt at a do-it-yourself trim was out of the question. Harry would willingly wait.

As he explored the bathroom, he found that, aside from the self-given haircut he had everything he needed to make himself presentable. There were towels and wash cloths already prepared in small cupboards near the shower. Soaps and shampoos of various scents adorned the wall furthest Harry, which acted also as a shower based shelf. Individual tubes of toothpaste were hidden in the mirror cabinet, and an assortment of generic, unopened toothbrushes sat in a cup near the sink faucet. Combs could be found in a drawer beneath the sink. They probably wouldn't hold up against the knots in Harry's hair, but he was willing to give them a shot.

"More than I could have asked for," Harry whispered quietly to himself, and immediately got to work.


Not much later did Harry emerge from the shower, quite pleased with the new level of cleanliness he felt he had achieved. As he revered in the new found comfort of decent hygiene, Harry began to ponder exactly what he was going to do with the time left to him this summer. How long had he been out? How long had Sirius been waiting for him? Did the others know he was here? Was it safe to leave him alone in that room?

With a frown, Harry dressed quickly and poked his head out of the bathroom door. Sirius lay there still, the sad shadow of a broken man. His posture looked almost practiced to Harry, as though Sirius had grown accustomed to sleeping in this position over time. The image was heartbreaking, if not a guilty reminder of all the things this man was willing to do for Harry.

Did he dare leave Sirius out there for a moment longer? What if one of the staff walked in and found him there?

Harry sighed. Surely a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

He dried his hair with the towel then combed it through, allowing it to fall into its traditional messy mop. About to dare some generic hair gel after having finished brushing his teeth, Harry was suddenly caught off guard by a ragged yelp from his room.

He stopped, making sure he hadn't been hearing things. No, there it was again. But what was it?

The blood in his body chilled.

Sirius!

But what was wrong?

Harry tore from the bathroom and into the hospital room to find Sirius standing over his bed looking, if possible, even more ashen faced than before. Tears were streaming in torrents down his lean face. His gray eyes were both swollen and bloodshot. He looked, Harry hesitated to believe, like death itself.

For all the drama unfolding, Sirius did not even notice his godson's presence. He shifted madly through the sheets, as though he expected to find something in there. He then whirled around to the other side of the bed, searching beneath it and then moving his quest to the floor. Harry inched closer. Sirius was muttering under his breath.

"No....no.....no," he murmured. Over and over again, as though in a trance. "No....no."

Harry took another step forward. Still Sirius did not notice him.

"No!" Sirius rasped, now frantic. "Harry....oh my God! No!" He tore the pillows from the bed. The sheets and the blanket, everything that could be moved, was moved.

At last he gave up, sagging against the bed with his head in his hands. His shoulders heaved with unheard sobs as his ratted hair fell in clumps around his sorry face. "Harry...oh, God." He stepped forward. "God, no. Please!" One more step and Harry was at his godfather's side, kneeling, debating what on earth he should do for this man. Sirius was so distraught and wrapped up in his fear that he did not even realize...that what he was searching for was not even a foot away from him.

Harry moved to speak, but found that his throat had gone horribly dry. Still, even if it hadn't, he was sure that there was little he could have said in such a sight as this.

With his heart trembling as severely as his hands, Harry realized that there was only one option left to him. He reached up and rested one hand on Sirius' shoulder. The other pushed aside some matted hair to reveal the worn face of a once handsome man.

Now, Harry was staring at the worst life could deal a man. Here Sirius sat, having lost almost everything, and believing he'd lost all that was left to him now. There were lines of pain etched in that striking face where no color now existed. The gray eyes that slowly opened in wonder seemed hollow and sightless. This was a man drained of all life, of all purpose, and all will to go on. Here, before Harry, was the embodiment of everything no one ever wanted to experience. It hurt Harry to see Sirius like this, and he understood how it felt. Harry had felt the exact same way from the moment he had seen Sirius slip past the archway in the Department of Mysteries.

The gray, lifeless eyes flickered upward, and for the first time Harry and Sirius beheld each other in the physical realm.

For a long time, neither said anything.

Harry marveled in this phenomenon. Never again did he expect to see this man's face in his lifetime. Never again did he expect to see that smile, or hear that laugh. Never again did he think he'd be receiving another letter congratulating him on a job well done, or berating him for having put himself in unnecessary danger of some sort. Never again did Harry expect to feel that unquestionable security he found in Sirius' presence, regardless of how unexplainable or foreign such a feeling typically was for him. All of those small things Harry had missed so much. So many things that he'd been forced to say goodbye to. Yet part of him had held out for a moment just like this, and now Harry was grateful that he had never really let go.

Sirius in turn seemed to be thinking along the same lines. The color in his face had not returned, and the tears had not stopped falling. His eyes gazed up at Harry in both wonder and doubt. He seemed to be trying to decipher if this image before him was real, or a cruel joke his mind was playing on him. Sirius was at a loss for words, if there were any that could have even come near labeling what he was feeling at this exact moment. Harry stood directly before him, looking worried and relieved all at once for their current situation. It couldn't be. It simply couldn't be. Sirius wasn't used to being cut a break. Harry was gone. This was a mirage.

"Harry?" Sirius rasped with a throat as dry as the Sahara. The boy nodded.

At that moment, everything shattered.

Harry wasn't certain who lunged at who first, but within seconds he was wrapped tightly in his godfather's arms with a smart bruise forming on his head from where their foreheads had collided. He might have laughed were the situation less dire. There was nothing he could say or do that would lighten or darken the mood. Everything was simply there. All Harry could do was accept it and return the embrace that he was being held in.

His head was buried in the crook of Sirius' neck. The tip of his nose could feel the erratic beatings of his pulse just below the jaw line. Harry's brow was sprinkled with the shoulder length matting of Sirius' jet black hair. It was all he could do to keep a grip around Sirius' shoulders that was just short of painful. Sirius on the other hand, didn't even bother with that. He held so tightly to Harry's torso that the boy was certain he might burst. But his joy outweighed the pain, and Harry would have had no complaints about the bruises that later formed around his ribs that day.

When the shock waned away, a wave of tears followed. Hours seemed to pass there in that room on the floor. Neither were willing to let go, though they weren't certain why. It didn't matter.

For the first time Harry could remember, he wept tears of happiness.


"I thought you were dead," Harry said in a hushed tone. They'd still not left their place on the floor. His head was rested in the crook of Sirius' left arm, which in turn wrapped around Harry's shoulders and came to a rest at the base of his neck. "That was the illusion. You had fallen through the dais in the Department of Mysteries, and everyone said that there was no hope of you coming back. You were gone."

Sirius let lose a sharp sigh through his teeth. "I'm sorry."

"Not as much as I was," Harry went on. It was noon at this point, and the light had diminished somewhat in their room. "I thought I was going insane. I couldn't stand it, and all the while I heard you talking to me--"

"You heard me talking to you?" Sirius interrupted, sounding intrigued at this.

Harry nodded. "You kept telling me to wake up. Whenever I thought I was asleep I would hear your voice."

A laugh escaped Sirius' throat. "Bet that was confusing."

"You have no idea."

There was a pause.

"I'm amazed. I didn't think you could hear me at all."

Harry frowned, turning his gaze up towards Sirius. "You mean you were saying all of that?"

Sirius nodded. "Oh, yes. Whenever I was in here alone. Now and then I had an odd sense that you just might be able to hear what I was saying. I kept talking, not sure if it would get through or not. I hoped..." He trailed off.

"What?" Harry pressed on, curious.

Sighing, Sirius let his gaze fall to the floor. "I had hoped that...you'd hear me and attach on to the sound of something familiar. I thought it might bring you back." He smiled sadly. "I don't know if it worked."

"It did."

The sad smile turned into a warm one. Sirius' arm tightened around his godson. "Did you hear anything else?"

Harry sat in thought. The memory of the numerous different voices came to his mind all of a sudden. "Yes. At one point I thought I heard a few separate voices talking. Something about there being nothing someone could do, and that he or she, whoever they were, needed to go get some rest."

"The doctors," Sirius said with a stiff note in his voice.

Harry's gaze raised to meet Sirius' face again. "Who were they talking to?"

There was a pause.

"Me."

"You?" Harry asked, flabbergasted. "The doctors know you're here?"

Sirius frowned in confusion. He peered oddly at Harry for a moment, then broke into a sort of chuckle as though the answer were quite obvious. Harry, on the other hand, wasn't even aware of there having been a question.

"I never told you. My name has been cleared."

Harry had the impression that all of his internal organs had suddenly imploded. "What?" he croaked.

A stronger laugh erupted from Sirius, causing Harry to grin despite this revelation that was now being presented to him. "I've been cleared and reinstated back into society as a decent, if not honorable, wizard."

"The trial...?" Harry gaped.

"Already happened, though I didn't attend. It wasn't required given the circumstances."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Circumstances?"

"Well, you're condition of course," Sirius said as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. "You were knocked unconscious when Malfoy sent that attack toward you and Neville on the tiers. Remember?" Harry nodded. "The blast was meant for you, and it got you good. For a moment we all thought you were..." His voice trailed off. He swallowed hard, calmed his chattering teeth, and then, with a great force of willpower, continued. "We rushed you to Mungos after the Death Eaters had fled. At that point Cornelius Fudge had joined us and he had seen that I was fighting against Voldemort, not with him. That was enough proof for Fudge."

"Bet everyone was glad for that," Harry added with a grin.

"Actually, no."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Well, no one cared. We were too preoccupied with you. Once we got you to Mungos we knew you were alive, but you were exhibiting signs of being comatose. You were rushed to a room and we were all restricted to the lobby for five merciless hours."

"Five hours?" Harry's head was spinning. "Who do you mean, 'we'?"

"Myself, Remus, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley." He lifted his hand and ticked off more names. "Dumbledore, of course. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna."

"They were there too?"

"Let me finish." Sirius went on. "Snape arrived soon after. And of course you know Fudge was there. Arthur and Molly came, with Fred and George in tow. Bill Weasley arrived later, strangely enough with Fleur Delacour. McGonagall came as well, completely bewildered as to how you had all gotten off the grounds without her or Umbridge knowing about it. Hagrid came, of course, bawling up a storm."

Harry laughed, partly out of embarrassment. He had never expected so many people to be so concerned for him. Reading Harry's thoughts, Sirius chuckled and wrapped both of his arms around his godson.

"It seems a great deal of people care for you, Harry."

"I'm just glad no one else was hurt," he said, not certain if anything else would have been appropriate.

"No one in particular though, right?"

Harry caught the humorous note in that statement and laughed. There was a pause. Then Sirius decided to speak his peace on the hardships he had endured over the past two weeks. It was only fair.

"There were days when I thought I'd be waiting here forever," he started. "They kept telling me there was no hope. That I should give up and go home."

Harry sat up, out of Sirius' grasp. He stared his godfather straight in the face, perplexed and amazed. "You weren't here the entire time with me." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. One that he hoped Sirius would confirm to be true.

"I was."

He swallowed hard. Harry wasn't sure what to say to this. He was touched, but there were no words for that. Instead, he sighed. "You didn't have to."

There was a pause.

"Yes, I did." Harry stopped to look up at Sirius' countenance. He was shockingly stony-faced, staring gravely at the wall opposite them as though it were a very dangerous insect. "I would never forgive myself if something had happened while I was away. What if you woke up only to die a few minutes afterward? I would never make it in time. Or what if something happened to you while you were in the coma?" Sirius stopped, a light cough escaping his throat. "I needed to stay. I had to know what was happening at all times." His eyes fell heavily upon Harry. "Leaving wasn't an option, even if I had wanted to."

"But what about the others? Certainly they could have stayed with me while you--"

"They offered," Sirius interrupted. "All the time. They were worried that I would exhaust myself waiting up for you each night. I ate, slept, and lived in this room ever since they assigned you to it. I never left it. There was only one time I came close..."

Harry looked up, intrigued. "What happened?"

The expression on Sirius' face darkened alarmingly. For a moment Harry thought that a switch in personality had occurred. But when he spoke it was still Sirius, only there was bitterness in his voice. And regret.

"I had barely set foot outside the hospital doors when they called me back in. You had stopped breathing."

"I did?"

"By the time I got here you were already cold. I was certain you'd died. Ron and Hermione where in here with Remus and Moody. Tonks was calming Mrs. Weasley outside because Arthur hadn't arrived yet. She didn't help much, only because she was in just as right of a state as Molly was."

Harry swallowed. "So, what did happen."

"I'm not sure," Sirius' voice had died down to an almost inaudible whisper at this point. His gaze had fallen to the floor as tears welled in his eyes at the awful memory. "I know I snapped inside somewhere. I didn't listen to what the doctors said. Remus tried to pull me out of the room, but I shoved him off. I...I practically ripped you out of the bed...I was screaming at you. I think I cussed at more than one point."

Harry suddenly remembered the experience in the black ocean. His first encounter with the dais in his dreams. He shuddered inwardly, trying to hide his pale, somber expression as Sirius went on.

"I was so certain you were gone...I didn't know what to do anymore. Ron and Hermione where there too, trying to talk you back. No one knows what happened, but all of a sudden you started gasping for air...like someone had been holding you under water. You even pulled out of your coma for a second. Then you lapsed back. I think at that point I swore to never leave again until you had come back."

Harry listened to this story, allowing the silence that followed to envelope them.

"I remember that."

Sirius tensed, his voice becoming a ghostly whisper. "You do?"

Nodding, Harry sighed, loathe to continue but knowing he had little choice. "I remember falling into an ocean. I couldn't see or swim, or breathe. I remember hearing your voice...I felt your arms pull me up out of the water...or what I thought was water...I, I don't think I'd have made it if you hadn't come."

There was a apprehensive, unusual moment in which none of them spoke. Then, Sirius cleared his throat.

"I don't think I can tell you how happy I am to see you back again."

Harry smiled.

"I don't think I can tell you how happy I am to see you at all." He paused. "I've been through a lot in my life. I've been through some difficult times, and there were days where I wasn't sure if I'd make it. But those past two weeks....they were hell. Whether they were real or not, they were hell. I'd lost you and the closest thing I'd ever had to a family."

Sirius peered down at Harry, his expression somewhere between touched and shocked that Harry was being so open all of a sudden.

"It was the equivalent of having my heart ripped out, stomped on, sent through a meat grinder and then made into sushi." Harry paused. "And I hate sushi."

At that comedic gesture, Sirius laughed long and hard. Tears were soon streaming down his face. Tears of joy. But all of a sudden the laughter was transformed. Sirius' body was again being wracked by sobs, and he pulled Harry close to him as though he were afraid this were all coming to an end.

"The thing that killed me most was that I never told you what you meant to me."

Harry gave a nervous laugh. "What do you mean?"

"When I escaped Azkaban, I wasn't saving my godson. I was avenging my best friend and saving his son. But when I met you, I wanted to be a part of your life. I didn't get that opportunity, but as the days went on, the weeks, the months, I came to realize that I cared about you. More than anything else, Harry. I love you like a son. It killed me realizing that...that you didn't know that. Dumbledore assured me that you did...but I wasn't convinced. I wouldn't be, not till you'd heard it from my own mouth."

"Well, now I have," Harry said with a sigh.

"And now you have," Sirius repeated. "Take it how you will. I can't afford to hold you at arms length and assure you I'm always going to be there. It's not good enough. I don't want any space between us anymore."

Harry sat in quiet consideration of these words. He knew what Sirius meant, but how was that going to happen? Sirius was cleared, but what if something happened? What if Dumbledore intervened? It had been revealed to Harry a long time ago that the Dursley's home had been the safest place for him. Could that fact be changed if Harry went to live with Sirius now? Would Dumbledore refuse it?

"I don't want any space either," Harry said at long last. "I think we've had enough of that. Not just with our bond, but geographically as well, if you get my meaning."

It was Sirius' expression that took Harry back. His face had darkened again, going a slight shade of red. The first extreme coloring Harry had seen on it in a long time.

"I know your situation with your aunt and uncle. Had I known, I'd have tried to bring you with me sooner." He stopped to take a breath. Harry could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. "I don't know what Dumbledore has set up with your aunt Petunia, but whatever it is, I don't think he'd dare step between us now after everything that has happened."

"You don't?"

"I can't imagine why he would. Whatever he did with Petunia he can do with me. The only difference is I have no objection. Petunia despises you for what you are and what you can do. She did what she did because in her heart there was still some love for her sister."

Harry nodded. It made sense. "So, now that you're cleared, what's going to happen?"

Sirius grinned. "A few nights ago, Tonks and a few of her friends snuck into your aunt and uncle's house and took all your things. They brought them to my place. We didn't think you'd mind the abrupt change."

"Not at all," Harry said with a laugh.

The grin on Sirius' face widened. "Well, that's what happened one broken window and a few holes in the walls later." He noted the perplexed look on Harry's face. "Tonks isn't the most graceful person, you know. She broke your bedroom window getting in, and in an attempt to take a dresser with her she knocked a few holes in the wall adjacent to the door. Needless to say your aunt and uncle weren't too pleased."

Harry shrugged. "I've unintentionally done worse."

Laughing, Sirius stood. Harry followed. He gave his godfather a questioning look.

"Now what, eh?" Sirius put the expression aimed at him into words. "I suppose I have a few owls to send. You can stay here I guess." He took a few steps toward the door, then stopped. "Is there any hot water left?"

"Yeah, why?"

Sirius cleared his throat awkwardly. "I, er, think I'll go clean myself up before I step outside." He turned and headed toward the bathroom, Harry laughing at him all the way. When he heard the water running, he plopped himself down on the bed and smiled. Things were really going to be okay, he realized as he stared down at his socks. He had dropped the hospital robe and pulled on some of his muggle clothes instead, not wishing to look like as much like a patient as he felt like one.

"Brilliant, Potter," he whispered to himself. "Couldn't have asked for a happier ending."


Only it's not the end. Not yet. One more chapter to go, just to sum a few more things up for you guys.

Well, I'm afraid I'm not too happy with this one. I'm not happy with much, really. My family is giving me a lot of (insert profanity) and it's getting harder and harder to handle the stress. If I don't snap or lose my mind, I'll get this next one up by the weekend. Hopefully.

Take care, everyone.