Chapter 20: The Promise
"Padfoot, stop! Now!"
Remus trailed hopelessly after his indomitable friend. He'd barely got out the words, "Now don't panic, but Harry's in the hospital—" before Sirius was practically sprinting down the halls of Hogwarts.
"Explain later, Moony!" Sirius called back at his friend.
"No, now! Sirius, it's either stop here or be stopped by Madam Pomfrey. You know she won't let you in. Besides, you'll only make him worse."
Sirius froze at these words, causing Remus to almost run into him. He turned around, impatient but reluctant at the same time.
"What is it?" Sirius asked hurriedly, "Is he breathing? Is he conscious? Does he have all his limbs?"
"He's not in any danger anymore, Sirius, though you rushing in and being overdramatic would probably kill him emotionally. Thankfully, he's actually become responsive again, but—"
"Remus, what happened?" Sirius said with a heavy gravity he rarely used.
The man took a deep breath, glancing away. "I suppose it would be best if you knew some of the story first. According to Draco, the Heirs accidentally intercepted a letter from Insider. It said Voldemort was traveling over land and being susceptible to an attack. Apparently the Four felt the resistance might stop them from going, so they didn't tell Dumbledore. They'd already learned the Heirs' Strength in secret, and they headed out alone."
"They learned it? Even after Dumbledore warned against it?"
"They are…strong-willed, I suppose." Remus waved the comment away. "Draco didn't go much into why exactly they had learned it. But they did find Voldemort, and apparently it had all been a trap. They performed the spell, but something went wrong. How exactly we don't know, though probably by some sort of burning, but Harry was blinded."
"Blinded?" Sirius asked, confused, "You mean he's blind, permanently?"
"He can discern light from dark, and as to whether it will be permanent, we don't know, but yes, Harry is blind."
"And for that he's near a breakdown?" Sirius exclaimed in disbelief, "All he needs to realize is how lucky he really is. Honestly, I'll just—"
Remus gripped Sirius' shoulder, stopping him from heading away.
"Sirius, you know Harry would never be upset like this if that was all that happened. James Bell was killed."
Sirius' mouth parted slightly. "The Hufflepuff Heir? The—the little boy?"
Remus closed his eyes, nodding. "Draco says that Harry feels he should have been able to save him. He came close, and he's taking his blindness as a punishment for failing."
Sirius stood there in silence a moment, then jerked into life. "I've got to talk with him," he said hoarsely.
"Sirius, if you would only—"
But Sirius ignored him this time, taking off once more. Remus wasn't to be thwarted, however. In one swift movement, he grabbed Sirius' upper arm roughly, jerking him back against the wall.
"Sirius Black," Remus said sternly, "You will stand here, and you will listen to every word I have to say, and you will know exactly what happened. Only then will you be allowed to go to the hospital wing."
Sirius was irritated and angry at being treated like a child, but knew he wouldn't win the argument. That didn't mean he had to like it. "And why is it you know about all this when I, his godfather, haven't heard a word?"
"I was in Albus' office when Ronald Weasley came running in. I went back with the others…" Remus' voice grew quieter. "Harry was sitting under a tree and Azar had her arms latched around his waist. She refused to let go for a long time, not until we assured her he'd be alright. Harry didn't seem to even notice she was there or that we had come. It was a while before we could even get him to agree so we could bring him back by the Transfer Charm. Thankfully the charm allowed them all to have a dreamless sleep, for a while at least. After Harry, Azar, and Hermione had left, Draco took us—"
"Tell me about him later, Remus; my concern right now is Harry," Sirius interrupted.
Remus' gray eyes flashed dangerously. "He is one of your students, Sirius, and Harry's friend. You should care about all of them. They are a part of Harry's life, and therefore a part of yours."
Sirius looked down at the floor, then slowly removed his arm from Remus' grasp. "I'm sorry, Moony, but what can I do?"
"More than anything, they need comfort, Sirius. We've contacted their families, but the Zundels and Grangers are Muggles; they won't be able to come here. And Draco has no one. We need to be there for them."
Sirius nodded slowly and then, without a word, turned and walked to the hospital wing. This time, Remus didn't try to stop him.
As he neared the hospital wing, his pace slowed. Right outside the room stood Draco Malfoy, leaning against a wall and staring into space. Sirius was positively maddened by being so near his destination and yet having this block. No, not a block, he reminded himself, and he walked up to Draco.
"Hey, Draco," he said quietly, "How are you doing?"
The boy looked up at him, raising one eyebrow slightly. The rest of his expression was blank. "Well enough, considering."
Sirius felt more than a little awkward. "Feel like talking, or anything?"
"Not particularly," Draco answered, looking back down at the floor, "He's in there alone now, I think. Pomfrey's done all she can do."
Sirius hesitated reluctantly a moment. Yet it seemed so much like Draco had given him permission to see Harry first… Patting the boy's shoulder firmly, Sirius entered the hospital wing.
Harry sat up in his bed, a number of pillows stacked behind his back. He was still in the pajamas he'd been dressed in when he had been brought there, silent and compliant. His covers were pulled up just past his waist and his hands rested languidly upon them. His eyes were blank.
Sirius stood there a long time before speaking up. "Harry?"
The boy looked around quickly, those emotionless emerald jewels trying to find his godfather. And though his eyes didn't mirror it, the rest of Harry's face spoke of a sudden joyful despair.
"Sirius," he said quietly, his voice worn and tired.
The man walked over and sat by Harry's bed, placing a hand on the boy's forearm so he would know he was there always.
"I came as soon as I heard, Harry," he said, for nothing else came to mind and the silence was unbearable.
Harry nodded slightly, taking a deep rattled breath. "Did they… Did they tell you everything?" he choked out.
"Yes," he answered, giving Harry's arm a comforting squeeze.
The boy nodded again. He stared blankly down at his bed sheets a long while, not trusting himself to speak. Yet, with Sirius, there was a desire to tell all, to have everything spill out like a little child sobbingly telling his mother how he got the scrape on his knee so he can receive sympathy and a kiss to make it all better.
"I tried," the boy finally said, catching sobs in his throat, "He was there a-and I knew I could reach him… But Voldemort was quicker, and…and I gave up. But I tried… I really tried…"
The boy really had to fight his tears now. It felt as though his lids were near to overflowing, and he gave silent gasps to stop a lump from escaping his throat. Slowly, the man took his godson in his arms, holding him tight as though trying to take the pain as his own. The boy no longer fought his tears.
"If only I'd reached a little harder," he wept into Sirius' shoulder, "But I was afraid, I was afraid of being pulled in, and so I left him."
"Harry James Potter, you did nothing of the sort," Sirius told him with a gentle insistence, "You reached 'til your arm ached with the effort. Don't blame yourself for not being allowed to succeed."
"You don't understand," Harry said, his voice shaking, "I could have refused to go. They couldn't have gone without me. I could have gone to Dumbledore, used some common sense. I could—"
"Harry, stop," Sirius said firmly, "There are millions of things one could have done to make a outcome turn out better, but there are also millions of things one could have done to make it worse. You just have to accept that you did the best with what you knew and forgive yourself for what might have been avoidable."
Harry buried his face deeper into his godfather's robes, trying to smother the questions in his mind. Sirius just held him tightly, knowing no amount of words could make Harry feel better. Thus silence reigned over all the ages and two stood frozen in it, trying to forget that which blared in their minds.
Slowly, Harry's grip lightened and his green eyes became visible.
"Have you ever forgiven yourself?" the boy asked hollowly into Sirius' shoulder.
"What?" Sirius answered, feeling his heart sink.
Harry pulled out of the embrace, almost as if to look at Sirius, though the boy's eyes remained blank.
"Have you ever forgiven yourself for my parents' deaths?" Harry repeated, weighing the world upon each word.
Sirius slowly closed his eyes, bowing his head. His gaze remained upon the floor.
"You know what it feels like, Sirius," Harry whispered, catching a sob in his throat, "You know it's not a matter of just forgiving oneself. It's not that easy. Don't ask me to do what you cannot."
The room rang with the nothingness that followed these words. Sirius stared at the hospital floor, beginning to understand. Not just Harry's pain but what forgiveness really meant.
"You're right," he said hoarsely.
Harry glanced up at him without seeing. Sirius took a deep breath, looking at Harry as though to be sure he was there, that he was listening.
"It's hard," he started slowly, "to know for sure. When he is dead—when I can't ask for his forgiveness—how can I give it to myself?"
Sirius stopped, in thought and remembrance.
"Harry, do you think James would forgive?" he asked finally, "Me?"
"Of course," Harry answered with conviction, "He would never say it was your fault. It wasn't."
"But you hardly knew him," Sirius said quietly, "How could you know that he would forgive me?"
Harry was silent for a moment, but only a moment. "I just know."
"As do I. James would forgive, Harry. We need to be able to do the same."
He placed a gentle grip on Harry's shoulder, and the boy's face was filled with empathy. It seemed as if a fog had cleared from the room, the air no longer suffocating. The window was open, letting in the bright sun that always seemed to follow those clouded nights. This Harry knew and saw, for though the rest of the world was indiscernible, he could tell the darkness from the day.
Suddenly, Harry pushed back the covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Think we could go for a walk?" he asked.
Sirius nodded, then spoke up. "Sure."
"But not out in front of people. Not yet. Could we…could we take the shortcut to Honeyduke's?"
Sirius grinned. "Cyclops' cave, we used to call it."
He deftly grabbed Harry's slippers and started to put them on the boy's feet.
"No, just put them on the ground, I can put them on," Harry said quickly.
Sirius nodded, gently placing the slippers down by Harry's toes. The boy's feet found them quickly and he stood slowly, unsteady, unsure. Taking a few hesitant steps, he smiled.
"Well, my legs still work at least."
Sirius laughed, putting an arm around Harry's back. "There's always a bright side."
They walked to the door, Sirius not withdrawing his hand. The hall was empty when they exited; Draco had apparently found something to do. Harry paused a moment.
"You don't need to guide me," he said quietly.
"I know, Harry," Sirius smiled as they walked on, holding the boy tighter. "I know."
****
Draco must have paced the long corridor outside the hospital wing a hundred times, running a few stairs while he was at it, and he showed no signs of stopping. He had to keep moving, to stop thinking. Madam Pomfrey had tried to usher him into pajamas and bed but he wouldn't have it. Not even the all-powerful school nurse had any sway when Draco's mind was set. He wasn't injured, he wasn't tired, and he didn't want to lie around and do nothing when he could walk around and do nothing.
Why exactly he stayed so close to the hospital wing, Draco wasn't sure. No one was in there: Harry and Sirius were gone, Ron and Hermione were with Dumbledore last he knew, and Azar had disappeared. Even Madam Pomfrey was having some well-deserved rest after an interrupted night of bustling and worrying. Yet he kept pacing by the door, as though expecting them to suddenly appear there, for Draco Malfoy had no place else to go.
Ronald Weasley, on the other hand, was walking with a purpose. He knew exactly where to go: McGonagall's office, where his parents waited, or so the headmaster had just told him. It was only by chance that the route he took crossed the hospital corridor, and it was only by chance that as he neared that hall, Draco suddenly paced by, unseeing. The encounter was enough to jolt Ron's memory, and with all that had happened, he felt he must know. His parents could wait.
"Draco," he called.
The blond boy almost tripped he spun around so fast. His face registered surprise a moment, but he let it pass. "Ron," was all he could manage to get out.
"There was something I wanted to talk to you about." Ron seemed ready to dive into a question but froze, as if thinking better of it. "Um…well, how are you doing?"
Draco couldn't have been more shocked if Ron had asked, "Do these robes make me look fat?" He didn't even know how to reply. Ron Weasley actually caring about him?
"And I mean really," Ron added awkwardly, "Most people say fine without thinking, even if they mean to say they'd rather they'd been force-fed boulders."
Draco's eyes reached a more normal size at these words, though they were still wide enough to be surprising on the face of one who never liked to show anything but confidence.
"I'm okay," he said quietly.
"Really?" Ron asked, slightly skeptical.
"Fairly. I'm not running about ranting about Ministry conspiracies, so that's always a good sign."
Ron was quiet a good while, not looking at Draco and biting his lip. "Um…I was wondering… Well… The reason—I'm not… Is Azar a Seer?"
Draco's eyes didn't grow wide at this. Rather, they narrowed into steel slits. He should have known; Ron wouldn't pretend to care an ounce about him unless there was some information to get.
"Why would you think that?" he said coldly.
"I heard you and Harry talking one day. And then with this…and Azar muttering that it was her fault, that she should have stopped it… I was wondering if she…Saw it happen." Ron seemed to trip over every word.
"That's really not my business to tell," Draco said, a king to the thieving beggar, "and it's not your business at all. Keep your long nose where it belongs."
It was time for Ron's eyes to grow wide, his jaw slacking to add to the effect. He really didn't think he'd asked that much. After all, Azar was his friend, too. But whatever he'd done, he knew it must have been awful in Draco's eyes.
"I… Well, it's all just a bit strange," Ron stumbled along, "Like why did she hide it from us—well, me. It seems no one tells me anything anymore, as though… Well, I just don't understand. All this frightens me, really."
"Oh?" Draco replied, busy brushing a bug off his cloak so Ron would know the conversation was over. The normally imperceptive boy caught on.
"I guess I best be off to see my parents then," Ron said, trying to take back the whole conversation, "You know my mum; she'll think I was attacked by a gang of trolls."
"No, I don't."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "No you don't what?"
"No, I don't know your mother," Draco said expressionlessly, "I've only seen her a few times."
This made Ron feel even more awkward. What could one say to that? In his ever-articulate way, he finally spoke up.
"Oh. Well…I'll see you later then."
Draco didn't answer, simply nodding, and Ron hurried off. His pacing having stopped, Draco didn't feel up to starting it again. He leaned against the wall beside the door to the hospital wing, trying to remember not to think. Thinking led to things he didn't want to remember.
****
It took numerous reminders from both Mr. Weasley and Ron that human beings must breathe to survive before Mrs. Weasley let go of her youngest son. It took a greater amount of persuasion before his parents believed that he truly was all right. It was only then that they began to inquire as to the others. Ron told them all he knew.
"We can go to the hospital wing if you want," he finished, "I don't know if they're there, but—"
"We'll go," Mrs. Weasley interrupted.
"I have a few things to take care of," Mr. Weasley said, "But I'll try and join you. Ron?"
His son turned to him and the father took him in his arms. "In case I don't see you before I leave."
"Leave?" Ron asked, concerned.
"The Ministry will be in an uproar; I have to be there," Mr. Weasley explained solemnly, "But I will be back tomorrow. I promise."
Ron nodded, then headed for the door. Mrs. Weasley gave her husband a quick kiss good-bye and then followed her son. They walked in silence. As they turned a corner, the door to the hospital wing came into view, and with it Draco Malfoy. The sight caused Ron's pace to slow. The boy just leaned against the wall, staring blankly ahead and not moving, as though the subject of some solemn and dismal painting. Mrs. Weasley, too, felt the somberness of this stranger, caring less for the boy's identity than the fact that he was alone.
"Draco?" Ron called quietly.
The only thing Draco moved were his eyes, flitting them over to look at the approaching pair. Seeing Ron was not alone, Draco seemed to think better of ignoring him and stood up, facing the two Weasleys. They in turn walked up to him. There was silence for a while.
"I don't believe we've met," Mrs. Weasley said, though truly she had guessed at least he was a Malfoy. That family was unmistakable.
"Mum, this is Draco Malfoy, Heir of Slytherin," Ron said, looking at Draco, "And my friend."
Draco's eyes darted at Ron in surprise only to find the boy gazing at him with apologetic hope. He felt like laughing to see a Weasley wanting to apologize to a Malfoy, but gave a small smile instead. Ron's face relaxed.
"And Draco, this is my mum, Mary Weasley, though most call her Molly," Ron said, finishing the introductions.
Holding out a hand and turning to the plump woman, Draco said, "Pleased to mee—"
He didn't get a chance to finish before Mrs. Weasley ignored his hand and took him up in an embrace. The smile on Draco's face was wiped clean, replaced by frozen shock. His arms hung stiffly at his sides, neither rejecting nor welcoming the contact. He felt completely numb. It was almost as if he didn't even know what to do.
Mrs. Weasley pulled back, her hands still on Draco's shoulders, her eyes fixed on his.
"If I could have suffered in your place, I would have," she said, her eyes shining with tears.
The numbness slowly seeped away. "I…I'm fine," he answered quietly, "I'm not hurt."
"Just because you've suffered no physical harm doesn't mean you're not hurt," Mrs. Weasley said, her soft eyes not leaving his, "That kind of wound only heals with talking."
Draco's eyes darted nervously over her face, pleading almost. She nodded.
"I understand," she said with a small smile, brushing a stray strand of silver hair from his forehead, "But do not be afraid. There is far too much fear in the world now for you to also hold it against your friends."
Draco bit hard on his tongue, for physical pain always seemed to ease far worse aches. He tried to keep his gaze even and unaffected, to look at Mrs. Weasley—not coldly, but without emotion. Her sympathetic eyes and gentle smile didn't help one bit, but he managed, though nearly shaking with the effort.
"My word, what are you doing standing like this?" Mrs. Weasley suddenly cried as though she'd just seen Draco for the first time, "I'm surprised Poppy would allow it; she normally knows better. Come along, we are getting you in bed."
Before Draco could even think to object, she ushered him into the hospital wing and beside the bed Pomfrey had set up for him, Ron following almost in curiosity.
"Mrs. Weasley," Draco started to say, finally having found his voice, "really, I—"
"I won't hear another word of it," she insisted, "Now let's get you into some pajamas."
With those words, she took hold of the bottom of Draco's shirt and gave a sharp yank upwards, revealing a stomach and chest that looked as though they'd never seen the sun.
"Mrs. Weasley!" Draco cried in a shrill pitch Ron would never have expected from him. He quickly tugged his shirt out of her hands and back in its proper place. When he spoke again, his voice was closer to normal, though not quite. "Mrs. Weasley, I assure you, I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself."
"That of course is a matter of opinion," Ron interjected with a grin.
"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley cried, swatting the back of her son's head, "And I'm sorry, Draco. I occasionally go on automatic mother." She smiled warmly, patting Draco's shoulder. "I'll let you have your privacy then. But you had better be in bed when I get back."
She quickly bustled out of the room. Ron glanced at Draco, who looked slightly surprised, and gave him a grin.
"So now you know my mum," he said, amused.
"A little more personally than I would have liked," Draco said in an undertone, sitting on his bed and taking off his socks and shoes, "Has she always been so eager to undress teenage boys?"
"Don't go making it sound dirty," Ron scolded, "She just has a lot of experience mothering, her own kids and everyone else's. Once when Charlie was seventeen, he came home very late and she frog marched him upstairs and got him in bed and in his pajamas before he could even say a word. Believe me, if you refuse to go to bed, she'll have you in before you can even think."
"Now who's making it sound dirty?" Draco said, somewhat smugly.
Ron just shook his head, pulling up the curtains for Draco. He suddenly burst out in laughter.
"What?" Draco said, trying not to grin.
"I seriously never thought I'd say this to another human being," Ron said turning to him, "but you're even paler than I am."
"Well we can't all be blessed with little brown spots all over our bodies."
"No, I guess not," Ron grinned, walking out of the curtain.
Draco had just turned to remove his shirt when Ron popped his head back in.
"By the way, if you're not careful, Mum'll adopt you. She has that habit, you know."
And then he left.
****
When Sirius and Harry stepped back into the halls of Hogwarts, classes were going on. The far-off murmurs of lecturing teachers and gossiping students trickled through the corridors. Harry wondered what they were saying now, if anyone knew. Surely all houses wondered where their friends were. And he knew that, soon enough, Hufflepuffs would walk with bowed heads and sad eyes and that whispers of blame would find their way to Harry Potter. But now they were in class, certain that those that were missing were just off somewhere. They had no reason to think differently.
Entering the hospital wing, Sirius still holding Harry's shoulder, the man was taken aback to find they were not alone. There was someone lying bored in a bed next to Harry's.
"Draco," Sirius said, mildly surprised at seeing the Slytherin, "I didn't know you knew the meaning of rest. Might I assume Poppy had something to do with it?"
"No," Draco said solemnly, "It took a far greater power than hers to get me in bed."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, but a small smile crept onto Harry's face.
"Mrs. Weasley," he said. It wasn't a guess.
"You're the one she adopted, right?" Draco asked Harry, "Ron practically said as much, though I wasn't sure."
"Wait, what?" Sirius said, feeling as though he were in a dark room looking for a black cat that wasn't there.
"You don't know her too well, do you Sirius?" Harry answered, finding his way to his bed and sitting.
"No, I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure."
"Be glad."
"Watch it, Draco," Harry warned, turning slightly toward the boy.
"Joking," he said in defense, "Though truly, I was more than a bit surprised at her proceeding to strip me right in front of Ron."
Sirius stared at the boy, thinking any moment he would add another "joking". He didn't.
"But then, it's not really her fault," Draco insisted, "I'm cursed, after all; I really am."
Harry burst out laughing, and probably would have laughed harder if he could have seen how closely Sirius' expression matched the one Snape had made when he heard the same remark. It felt good to laugh. Draco grinned, lying back on his pillow.
"Well, I'm pleased to see you listened to me," Mrs. Weasley said to Draco as she entered the room.
Then she saw Harry. She bustled over to him, being overly fussy to make him smile. Draco had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, as though an elephant had just decided to sit there.
And then Mrs. Weasley turned away from Harry and started acting as nursemaid to Draco. He acted slightly irritated at her attention, but the boy felt as though cold ebbed from him, leaving a new warmth, almost like drinking a fresh butterbeer. Though he would never admit it, he was beginning to like this woman very much.
Numerous visitors appeared throughout the day, none of them students but Ron and Hermione; Madam Pomfrey wasn't about to subject her patients to a crowded room. With every shuffled step on the floor, Harry would sit up sharply, expectantly. Yet each time he was wrong. No one had seen Azar since they'd returned to Hogwarts. She'd gone off on her own, and Harry was far from the only one that was worried.
Gradually, the hospital wing emptied. Madam Pomfrey insisted that Ron and Hermione go back to the Gryffindor tower. Mrs. Weasley insisted on being close to the hospital wing at all times, so Madam Pomfrey offered her sleeping quarters in her office, which she accepted. Sirius, however, was not to be moved. He assured Madam Pomfrey that he would be very quiet and not disturb the patients at all, and she finally had to accept that.
Sirius was as good as his word, taking a seat in the corner of the room by the door, and Harry and Draco drifted off into sleep. Sirius, however, couldn't sleep that night. He stared at a dark wall of the room, unable to stop his memories from visiting.
****
Dean, Seamus, and Neville were asleep when Ron entered the boys' dormitory. It was probably best; he didn't feel up to answering any questions. There was another reason it was good, he soon realized, spotting a gentle bluish-white glow coming from the cracks in his bed curtains. He smiled slightly; it was time to turn the tables on Percy.
Quietly, he snuck up to his bed. He took hold of the curtains, and then suddenly whipped them open, crying, "Boo!"
Percy gazed back at him, unfazed and even slightly annoyed. "That was intelligent," he said sarcastically.
"You weren't scared?" Ron asked, pretending to be offended.
"Ronald, I'm a ghost," he said, floating up and a bit away from the bed, "Somehow 'boo' just doesn't evoke thoughts of terror. Besides, you did a rotten job of sneaking up. If there's one thing you've never been, it's discreet."
"And tactful, if you ask Mum. I've got a bruise to prove it," Ron smiled, standing by his brother as he rubbed the back of his head.
"What?"
"Oh, Mum just whacked me for pokin' fun at Draco," Ron answered offhandedly.
"M…Mum's here?" Percy asked quietly.
Ron nodded, suddenly solemn. "Dad was, too, but he had to go back to the Ministry."
"Where's she staying?"
"I'm not really sure. Knowing Mum, she's probably still in the hospital wing," Ron said with a small smile, "…Have you…heard?"
"About James? Yes, I've been about the school…" Percy sat on Ron's bed again, staring off in thought. "You still haven't told them, have you? Mum and Dad, I mean."
"No, not yet." Ron felt the heat coming to his ears.
Percy nodded. "Well, that's your choice. Might even be a good thing, right now. That way I won't be tempted to go talk with her."
Ron fidgeted awkwardly, somewhere between shame and uncertainty. Percy was content to be silent for a while.
"Ron," he said quietly, indicating the bed space right next to him, "Sit down. I need to talk with you."
A bit confused, Ron complied. Percy stared at the floor for a long while, not sure how to say what he needed to.
"First, I just want to say that I can't tell you much. I'm not even sure if I'm allowed to say anything, but… Well, I'm just a bit worried," he said reluctantly.
Ron was quiet, not sure what to make of it.
"Don't do anything stupid this year, Ron," Percy finally said, looking firmly in his brother's eyes.
"Oh, is that all?" Ron laughed.
"I'm serious, Ron. Don't be reckless or unwise. Don't just go off and do something because you think you have to. You never have to." Percy paused a moment. "This…this death… Well, I wasn't even going to say anything before, wasn't even thinking of it… But I'm scared for you, Ron. Just don't go get yourself killed."
"James was an Heir, Perce. I'm a nobody. They don't kill nobodies." Ron gave a small smile, but Percy just shook his head.
"Never think you're so unimportant that it won't happen to you," he insisted, "I was just a lowly Ministry worker, but that didn't matter. Death Eaters don't care."
Ron laughed slightly. "Well, unless they want information on how to be an undefeated chess champion, I'd say I'm pretty safe."
"You're the best friend of one of Voldemort's most hated enemies. I'd say that's something to worry about. And you don't exactly have a record of playing it safe."
"What, you think I'll just feel like strolling into Voldemort's lair sometime? I'm not stupid, Percy."
"I mean it, Ron," Percy said sternly, "No adventures, no chances. Stay at Hogwarts where you'll be safe."
"Oh, I'll just lie in bed all day then, shall I?" Ron scoffed, "Honestly, Percy, why are you acting like this?"
Nervously, Percy stood up, walking around a bit and stopping by a wall. He turned to Ron, his hands behind his back and his gaze serious and even.
"Because, Ron, I'll be gone within the year." He paused, glancing at the floor, then looking back at his youngest brother with a much less even gaze. In one quick breath, he added, "And I'll be taking someone with me."
Before Ron could even do anything but widen his eyes, Percy turned and walked through the wall, leaving his brother to gape alone.
****
It was past midnight when Harry sat up sharply in his bed, giving a small cry. Sirius' eyes darted over to him, unsure as to whether or not he should get up. Harry ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. With a sigh, he slipped out of bed, walking gingerly for the sink. He felt around, nearly knocking a glass over but catching it in time and then filling it with water.
He took a sip, then headed back with glass in hand. Part way there, the boy froze. His free arm sprang out in front of him, reaching blindly. He walked stiffly, unsure, that hand always searching. His confidence ebbing away, he started turning, thinking that perhaps he'd headed in the wrong direction. Sirius felt frozen now, the panic and anger evident on Harry's face. The boy grew more and more frantic, trying to find the bed that was right in front of him. His steps were no longer cautious and suddenly his hip found the bed, knocking him off balance. The glass in his hand tipped and all the water it held fell to the ground. Of his own accord, Harry followed.
Hunched together, on elbows and knees, his back shock with sobs. He kept shaking his head, whispering to himself, "It's not fair. I tried, I tried… It's not fair!
Harry slammed his fist on the stone floor and then fell silent. It was a while before he took a deep breath to calm himself and then gingerly got to his feet. He ignored the water on the floor, placing his glass on the nightstand and then slipping silently into bed.
Through all this, Sirius felt a churning in his stomach. A burning seemed to rush between his eyes and he gripped tightly to his armchair. As silently as he could, he rushed from the room and down the corridor, heading blindly for the Great Hall. He burst the doors open and marched onto the grounds. In the very open, surrounded by nothing but grass, water, and sky, he halted.
"Why Harry?!" he shouted into the quiet, "Hasn't he suffered enough? No one should have to go through all he has! Why?!"
His eyes flew to the black sky above him, open and all encompassing. And Sirius felt the churning in his stomach once more.
"Voldemort!" Sirius yelled, his eyes glinting with a mad fury, "Voldemort, the Dark Lord, the Flight of Death! Strike me down if you can; strike a thousand dead! Envelop the world in all your hatred until it can take no more and fades away into black nothingness! But you will never hurt that boy again!"
His voice echoed off the lake, bouncing across faraway hills and into the inky sky. Sirius' breath was heavy, that of someone who had just spent every last ounce of energy. His clear eyes focused on one piece of sky, the darkest one, completely void of stars. In those eyes were held such anger, such hate, such determination that if his gaze had been upon a being, that creature would have fallen to its knees and prayed it might see another day.
Sirius took in one last deep breath and then whispered something, his voice shaking.
"I'll see to that."
~*~*~
A/N: *throws confetti and dances in the street* Not long now, folks!!! Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix comes out June 21, 2003!!! WAHOO!!!
Of course, now this means I much finish this fic before then, so I've got a deadline. ^_^ I should certainly hope I finish before then.
I know this chapter took a while, but I hadn't any of it written beforehand (okay, that's a lie, but mostly the truth) and I had a friend look over it before I posted, so blame her for taking so long. (Joke, joke, joke! I'm very grateful Katina takes any time to read my work!)
Thank you everyone who reviewed last chapter!!!
Elucreh: Ug, no setting fire to the hair in my ears! Ron shall be explained eventually, but you must be patient! Thanks, thanks, thanks again for reading over that for me.
Naralina: Wow… Thank you. Just, thank you. And no, no worries, you didn't blind Harry. I knew about that since midway through 6th. I must say, I'm terribly proud of that chapter. And no, no, no, Ron and Hermione get more and more stage time. ^_^ And what Katina and I argued about was simply a line Azar said, a line I ended up cutting because I realized it was too much. Thank you again, Allison.
Jeanne: lol, Thanks! And James was just…fated, I guess.
Prongs: Thanks.
jona: Yes Harry-bashing is your job, but you've been ignoring your job so much lately, I felt I must step in. j/k Thank you so much.
Starry: Thanks. I'm truly flattered.
Princess: Can't tell you! ^_^ Thanks, though!
PrincessForever: Thanks.
Trisana: Thanks you.
Shrimpo/Jewels: Thanks!
Mystery: Thank you! I rather liked "Chamber", though the ending had me writhing in my seat. *sigh* Too much schmaltz for my taste.
Sonata: Wow, thank you. And no, this story will go through Harry's complete school year (and beyond a bit). Lol, metaphors, I'll keep that in mind. ^_^ Your reviews are always so much fun to read!
abbey: Thanks. And those answers come later, I'm sorry. I truly didn't mean for this chapter only to encompass one day, but that's the way it went. ^_^ *cough* IwantKeyofKingsNOW *cough* Man, I really need to get over this cold. ^_^
Wishstar: Thank you!
Nothing more to say other than
Be excellent to each other!
-Ady