A Change of Faith
Harry cautiously pushed the heavy wooden doors open, and glanced around. The dark church was silent and empty, but for a priest kneeling at the altar. There were none of Dudley's gang there, no one to ridicule him. He carefully closed the doors, not wishing to disrupt the priest's prayer with the slam of a door.
He paced a quietly as possible down the aisle, and settled himself in the second row of pews. Harry wasn't sure why exactly he was here; he just found himself at the front steps of this old church while out walking.
For a few minutes, he merely looked around, taking in the old church. The high ceiling, stone walls and pillars, beautiful stained glass windows, and many flickering candles. There was a certain haunting beauty to the place.
Harry shifted, the pew being quite hard, and the seat squeaked. The priest looked up and, greatly surprising Harry, he did not seem angry.
"Good evening, my son." He had a deep, calming voice.
Harry gave a half-hearted smile and replied, "Good evening."
"You seem trouble, my son. Come and pray with me." A bit surprised, Harry slipped off the pew and made his way to the altar.
Why am I going along with this? I'm not religious. The question seemed very far back in his mind, a mere whisper, as he kneeled next to the priest.
"You know the Lord's Prayer?" Harry shook his head. The priest reached for a very thick, leather bound Bible, clearly well-worn, for the book fell open to the Lord's Prayer.
The priest cleared his throat and began to recite, Harry quickly catching on and speaking with him.
"Our Father, who art in heaven,"
Is Dad in Heaven? Nick didn't know what happened after death because he chose to become a ghost. Is there a Heaven? Is... is Sirius there?
"Hallowed be thy Name."
Hallowed... Is anything really hallowed to me anymore? Is anything sacred? How can it be, knowing what I know?
"Thy kingdom come."
The whole world will become Voldemort's kingdom if I can't—
"Thy will be done,"
The will of the prophecy will be done, but who will succeed? Will I be murderer or murdered?
"On earth as it is in heaven."
Earth and heaven, so close, yet so far apart. That separation is the only thing keeping my from my parents! From Sirius! Such an easy barrier to cross, yet...
"Give us this day our daily bread."
"Harry could here the sound of voices, students heading down the Great Hall for an early breakfast, perhaps. It seemed impossible that there could be people in the world who still desired food, who laughed, who neither knew nor cared that Sirius Black was gone forever..."
"And forgive us our trespasses,"
It's my fault Sirius died—
"As we forgive those who trespass against us."
Fudge, Kreacher, Dumbledore, Snape, myself. So many, not the least which is my own stupid self.
"And lead us not into temptation,"
Voldemort- he lead me, brought me to the Department of Mysteries, made Sirius fall- not directly, but all the same.
"But deliver us from evil."
No one can deliver us but me. Nothing between Voldemort and the world but me; I don't think I can do it—
"For thine is the kingdom,"
The kingdom of Voldemort; I can't let that happen—
"and the power,"
"There is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it..."
"and the glory,"
"But you do... sort of... I mean— don't you think you've got a— a— saving-people-thing?" "He has a great weakness for heroics..." "I'd wasted time acting the hero..."
"for ever and ever."
Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever... I have only one chance. One. And I've messed up before— with Sirius—
"Amen."
I don't think I can deal with this alone, but I have to, I have to—
Harry turned to the priest. "Thank you," he whispered.
The priest nodded, seemed to pause in thought for a moment, then reached into his pocket. He drew out a silver chain, a small plain cross dangling from it. "Take this, my son."
Harry reached out and took it. Carefully undoing the clasp he circled it around his neck. He nodded, then stood up to leave. He was just about to push open the doors when—
"I love you, Harry."
Harry turned, just in time to see the priest become James Potter, who disappeared. He stood for a moment, shocked, then continued out and home.
Before he went to sleep that night, he knelt beside his bed, touching the silver cross, and recited in a whisper the Lord's Prayer.