Chapter 12
The destruction was unbelievable as Siri made his way towards where Harry was fighting. He had been stopped by Tonks and pointed over to several students who needed medical aid immediately. The four students ranged from a first year Slytherin to seventh year Ravenclaw, and none of them would be able to wait to be portkeyed to the infirmary without medical attention.
He treated them as best as he could, forcing himself to keep to the task at hand and to not search for Harry on the battlefield this stretch of land had become. He had finished in time to look up and see that Harry had found Lucius Malfoy and begun fighting. Sirius gathered the four students and handed them one of the emergency portkeys Dumbledore had given him and sent them off to the infirmary, which had already been almost half-full when they had left.
"I don't think so, Greystone," a snobby voice called from his right when Siri was halfway to Harry from the train.
He turned to find Draco Malfoy standing there, wand pointed at him from underneath too long Death Eater robes.
"Have a little trouble finding a tailor?" Siri shot back. "And you poor baby. Daddy couldn't get you a mask?"
Malfoy actually growled at that, making Sirius laugh. If the kid had been halfway decent - a truly improbably wish in this family - he could have grown to like the bastard. But Narcissa had looked up to Bellatrix and not Andromeda, so he was as warped as the rest of the Malfoys and Blacks.
"You'll pay for that, Greystone." He charged Siri, waving his wand in a circle. "Laniaus stipes!"
Sirius dodged the cutting curse. It would have severed any limb it had touched, and it wouldn't be the best time for him to lose something valuable. Malfoy aimed again, but Siri sidestepped it, almost dancing around him. He'd learned long ago to let the enemy use as much energy as possible to save your own. He'd learned that trick from James' father, who had fought with Dumbledore against Grindelwald.
He circled the Malfoy heir, letting him grow more and more tired. He himself had only shot three hexes in his direction - just enough to keep the blond off balance. They were on the level of second year, while Malfoy was trying to fire off very advanced dark curses. Siri was lucky enough to have missed getting hit by them and that they were isolated from the slowing battle. Some of the curses were ugly, to say the least.
Finally, Sirius judged Malfoy to be tired enough to begin his own offensive. While the blond had some athletic ability from Quidditch, he didn't have the same stamina or reflexes on the ground that were used on a broom. Siri physically charged him, tackling Malfoy to the ground and knocking his wand out of his hand.
Siri growled as he shoved his knees hard between Malfoy's legs, making the blond squeal in pain and shut his eyes. He used the opportunity to take his hands off Malfoy's arms and bind them to both each other and the ground. He knelt back and waited for the Slytherin to return to reality.
"I should make up for all of the torment you put Harry through, Malfoy," Siri snarled when he opened his eyes.
Malfoy had the audacity to smirk. "What are you going to do, you poof?"
Sirius narrowed his eyes as the urge to smack that smirk off grew to extraordinary levels. He reined himself in and leaned down to growl in his ear. "I'm going to make you wish you had never been born, cousin. I'm going to send you to hell."
"Cousin?" Malfoy spat as Siri leaned back to watch his face. "No mudblood is a cousin of mine."
This time Sirius was the one to smirk. "Who said I was a mudblood? After all, my bitch of a mother was a Nott before she married my father. And who did she marry?" Sirius pulled back just a little bit farther and forced his knees into Malfoy's thighs. "Why, it was your black-hearted bastard of a great uncle, the illustrious Severus Black." He didn't quite manage to hold back a burst of maniacal laughter at the expression on Malfoy's face.
"You're Black, are you? Potter's dogfather, who died."
Sirius nodded with another smirk and then scanned the field, letting the blond stew. He saw Harry limping towards him, a couple of cuts and a good-sized bruise visible from here. He smiled in relief, forgetting all about the blond Slytherin that lay underneath his knees, happy to see proof that Harry was alive. As far as he could see, there were the only two left standing in the entire field.
Harry stopped suddenly, a look of horror crossing his face as he looked beyond Siri.
He turned to look as pain engulfed him. A green light surrounded him, and in that half-second before nothing, he thought that he was supposed to stay with Harry, no matter what.
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"You bastard!" Harry screamed as Sirius slumped over onto a screaming Malfoy. "You mother fucking bastard!" He could feel his heart shattering into enough pieces that it would take eternity to put together again.
The red-eyed man he was speaking to chuckled sinisterly. "Why bother grieving for your beloved -" here he sneered nastily - "dogfather? You're next, Potter."
"Master!" Malfoy squeaked from underneath Siri's body. "Get me out from here!"
"Very well." Voldemort flicked his wrist at Malfoy, ripping him from the bonds Sirius had set, pulling his hands off. The blond screamed like a banshee and looked at the stumps of his arms.
Harry couldn't pull his eyes away from the scene, like Muggles at a train wreck. He was numb inside - so numb it was as if he was miles away, galaxies away even.
"Why Master?" Malfoy whined as blood spurted from his arms. "Heal me, please."
Harry turned watery eyes back to Voldemort. The dark bastard was taking obvious pleasure in Malfoy's bleeding to death, refusing to answer the blond's pleas for help. He would do the same thing for Harry's bleeding and torn out heart, even as it spread to the far reaches of the universe.
He wasn't about to let that happen, Harry thought as an awful, encompassing feeling came to him. It was how he felt a year ago, as he stood in front of Voldemort, trying to curse Bellatrix Lestrange for killing Sirius. This chilling, raw power of despair and the hope that they could be reunited once more, that he would overcome all obstacles in his way to get to Sirius, even death.
Harry was going to finish this once and for all, even if... no, especially if it killed him.
Harry tightened his grip on his wand as he watched Voldemort watch Malfoy take his last breath, dead from blood loss. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he should have tried to help Malfoy get away from Voldemort, but there was something about this entire situation that had stopped him. However, Draco Malfoy had been made from the same mold as his father, Lucius. There was nothing there to save.
Voldemort finally turned to Harry, amusement plainly written on his disfigured face. "I see you didn't try to save your schoolmate, Potter. Too scared to do it? Or are you happy to see your enemy is gone?"
"Like you would really miss him, bastard," Harry spat out.
Voldemort actually tsked. "Language," he said, before waving his wand at Harry. He felt a whisper of magic try to swarm him, but Harry was having nothing of it.
"Try your party tricks elsewhere, Tommy Boy."
The dark bastard looked shocked, pleasing Harry. As Voldemort recovered, Harry sent a wave of magic himself, but this was directed where Sirius' body lay. His body vanished from view as Harry sent it to the infirmary at Hogwarts. He also sent Malfoy's body, almost as an afterthought.
"What did you do, boy?!" Voldemort demanded to know. Spittle flew from the corner of his mouth.
Harry smirked as he remembered Snape doing the same thing when he had confronted Dumbledore in the hospital wing after Harry had rescued Sirius with the help of Hermione and Buckbeak. It made him think that this would finally be his chance to go home with Sirius.
He closed his eyes, keeping that one thought - that he and Sirius would be reunited after all this was over - revolving around his head as he gathered all of his magic. He thought back to that book he'd read before the school year, where the wizard had created a green flamed torch that would burn brightly forever, where he only needed his own magic, and not that of a phoenix. He had reread that book several times, hoping that it would be more than just some novel written an age before Hogwarts was founded.
Now, he realized, it wasn't a novel, and that there was a great chance that he wouldn't make it through to the end. It was too late for second thoughts, though. He was determined to finish this.
Once what magic of his that he could gather was all in a sphere surrounding him, he looked at Voldemort. The bastard had begun to do the same, but where Harry's sphere was green - a bright green that made him think of the eye color his mother had given him - Voldemort's was a sickly black with dark purple streaks running through it. The green reminded Harry of the trees he could see off into the distance and of the lush lawn that spread around Hogwarts. He had once found that walking barefoot in the grass had sent shocks through him, as he felt the magic that was an integral part of every living thing. Now he would use that magic to rid the earth of filth like Voldemort was. It was the green that had protected him in the Potions classroom, when the explosion should have killed him.
Harry then began pulling the natural magic out of anything nearby. He could feel the clean and pure energy of what grass had survived, and the strangely calming energy of the wild sage and honeysuckle that grew around the edge of the scarred field. Mixed into this was the feeling of dark, hateful magic that he guessed was that of the Death Eaters who had fallen, and then there was the oddly mixed magic on the outer edges. Harry spared the tiniest bit of magic and sent whatever produced it away, sending anything that resembled good, human magic away, incase anyone else had come looking for them. He hoped it was Remus, for what he had planned would rip him apart with the backlash. The grass and plants would grow again, but human bodies wouldn't. Well, what he hoped would happen. Because he was most definitely flying by the seat of his pants. After all, this wasn't exactly the same scenario as the book.
Besides, it all boiled down to him and Voldemort.
"That's not enough power, boy," Voldemort's voice came muffled, as if it had traveled through an ocean of water.
Harry glared at him, letting the magic overtake him. In the distance he could hear the air begin to move in time with his heartbeats, a three-quarter movement like the waltz he and Siri had tried to dance to in the Room of Requirements, tripping over each other to land one on top of another, the perfect situation for a kiss.
A pang resounded within him, in the region where his shattered heart had once resided, as he thought of Sirius.
With the pang came the overwhelming pressure of magic, which he let consume him. Nature had brought him here, and he was going to let it take him away.
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The first thing he became conscious of was that he was in pain. Second, he noticed that someone was groaning, and he realized it was most likely him. There was a soothing noise near his ear, followed by a lull in the pain that was most welcome. It flowed through with a cooling wave, calming his fevered flesh. He sighed with relief.
"Are you waking up now?"
He turned towards the sound, trying to open his eyes. It felt like lead weights had been attached to his eyelids, he could hardly open them. Light hit him with the force of a bludger and he let his lids slam closed.
"I'll dim the lights, okay? Give me a couple more seconds until this spell is finished."
This time he could tell that it was a male voice, but it didn't sound like Harry. He scrunched his eyes shut, wondering where Harry was before going into a panic if he was okay and what exactly had happened on that barren and scarred field.
"Harry?" Sirius managed to croak out. He started to choke as he coughed, his throat seizing up on the last syllable. He felt a cup brought to his lips and a cool liquid rush over them and into his mouth, relaxing his muscles. Sputtering one last time, he pried his eyes open and saw a blurry face next to him.
"Are you all right, Sirius?" the face asked as he blinked.
Sirius blinked a few more times and the face resolved into a very worried looking Remus. "Harry?" he got out again, but he didn't cough or choke this time.
Remus' frown grew deeper, sending panic through Sirius' veins again. It must have shown because his old friend shook his head.
"He's alive, Sirius," Remus finally said in a thick voice. "But barely, at that. He used almost all of his magic and life energy."
"How?"
Remus shook his head. "We're not sure, Sirius. He showed up about two hours ago, but even Albus doesn't know how he got through the wards. We do know, however, that Voldemort is dead. Severus' Mark has disappeared, and Albus checked it to make sure."
Sirius nodded, but wasn't all that sure he understood what Remus was saying. He was rather stuck on the 'Harry's barely alive' bit.
"Where?"
"Sirius."
He looked at his friend.
"Let's get Poppy to check you out. Then I'll wheel you over to Harry's bed if she gives the okay."
"Go anyway." Sirius wished he could say more, but whatever that potion was, it wasn't letting him say much at all.
Remus grinned. "I know you'll try. But let Poppy check you over, and you can tell Harry the good news."
He nodded, and Remus went through the curtains Sirius noticed were hung around the bed. He was curious to know why, but he was more anxious for the school's mediwitch to check him out so that he could go see Harry.
"I was quite surprised to see you like this," Poppy said as soon as the curtains were shut behind her and Remus. "It was a bit of a shock to have the patient you were in the middle of working on suddenly turned into a supposedly dead man."
Sirius turned a bewildered look at Remus. "What?"
"You gave him a Relaxer then?" Poppy asked Remus before turning her full attention on Sirius, muttering spells under her breath.
"Yes," Remus replied. "Sirius, you showed up here laying on top of a dead Draco Malfoy from all reports."
Sirius grunted, but couldn't get anything else out at Poppy was examining his throat.
"You were in stasis, Mr. Black. And don't move a muscle," the nurse commanded.
Remus looked guilty for a second, and Sirius wanted to laugh at him.
"Poppy couldn't get you out of it, so she had me come over and help. It wasn't much, and I had just arrived from the field - Harry again, but I'm not sure how he did it - seeing as how I can only do basic healing charms. Not like you, though."
Sirius grinned.
"Just when she's about to call Dumbledore, it's chaos all of a sudden. There's a faint hint of green around you, and you're turning into you. Well, the one you were born as. Snape's on the floor and the same green light around you is coming from his arm. Then Harry appears out of nowhere in the same light, but he's sucking the light that came from you and Severus into himself."
Poppy patted him on the shoulder, as he tried to digest everything. "You're fine, Mr. Black. But I do want to see you in a week or if you have any problems, which ever comes first. It's not every day I get to see someone who has been hit by the killing curse and lived."
Sirius dumbly watched Poppy leave the curtained area. He turned to Remus. "What?" he asked incredulously. "What was she talking about? I was hit by what?" He didn't wait for his friend to answer. "You can tell me after you take me to Harry."
Remus gave a mock, put-upon sigh before leaving through the curtains. "I'll go get a chair."
Sirius let himself relax for the tiniest instant before tensing. All of this information was being thrown at him with alarming speed. He knew that it would take a while before he could assimilate it all, and he would really like to run it by Harry. Together they could get through anything.
But they had to do it together. And for that, he needed to see Harry.
Remus came in guiding a chair with his wand. "This is the best I can do for the moment. Poppy only has one wheeled chair, and it's being used at the moment." He looked at Sirius after situating the chair next to the bed. "Do you want to go through the infirmary as Sirius Black or Siri Greystone?"
He shook his head. "Sirius Black can't come back from the dead yet."
"Why not?" Remus asked. "You've been cleared, pardoned even."
Sirius shrugged. "I don't trust Fudge. He's likely to come barging in and start demanding to know why there's a dead man in bed with The-Boy-Who-Lived, and it's the boy in question's godfather, no less."
Remus raised an eyebrow. "You're not in bed with Harry, you letch."
Sirius grinned, so very glad that Remus had accepted his relationship with Harry so long ago. "I will be." The grin faded as he said, "I need to let him know that I'm here like I said I would be."
The other man nodded and then waved his wand at Sirius, changing him back to Siri Greystone. It wasn't as seamless as when Harry had changed him, but then again, nothing would. Remus finished with the appearance charm before directing the hovering charm at the chair.
Past the curtains was a wall of noise. All of the beds were full, with many professors acting as assistants to Poppy. The patients were mainly students that had been on the train, but he saw a couple of red haired patients as well, meaning that some of the others were members of the Order. As the chair floated down to the private room Harry had used the last two times he'd 'visited' the hospital wing, Sirius was attacked by a sudden case of panic.
What if Harry never woke up? How would he be able to go on without him? For so long, Sirius had lived for Harry in one capacity or another. Harry was the reason he had gone on living when he'd been born, and he didn't want to lose that reason.
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He wasn't sure what woke him first, but Sirius was elated that there were signs that Harry was returning to consciousness. It was too dark for him to see what was happening, and he didn't want to take the chance of waking him up if he wasn't already.
The last week had been both easy and hard for him to deal with. Easy, because he'd basically slept next to the comatose teen and wasn't disturbed by anyone other than Poppy and Remus. Dumbledore had stopped by once, that first day, but had been kept busy by the Ministry and Order for cleanup.
Watching Harry had been the hardest thing Sirius had ever done. It was harder than deciding to be the decoy for the Fidelis Charm, and harder than finding the will to go on in the middle of the freezing North Sea as he escaped from Azkaban. He'd had to wait patiently - which he didn't do well, at all - and gently encourage Harry to awaken. Sirius had barely listened as Poppy had explained that sometimes the body shuts down when it needed to, regardless of what the mind told it. She had told him that, whatever it was that Harry had done to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it had probably left him mentally exhausted, and not just physically. She had given him hope, because Harry's continued deep sleep meant that he hadn't given up on life yet, most likely because Sirius hadn't left his side.
"Siri?" a sibilant hiss next to Sirius brought him out of his thoughts.
"I'm here, Harry," he reassured in the darkness. "I'm here. I haven't left you."
Sirius could almost hear Harry's frown as he said, "you're still here. I... I thought I lost you...."
"You didn't lose me, Har-bear."
Harry gave a raspy chuckle of laughter. "Don't call me that."
Sirius pulled his arms tight around Harry. "I should call Poppy in, now that you're awake. But I don't want to leave you."
The sound of the door shutting, then the lights coming up to a soft dim, brought both of their attentions to the doorway. "Don't worry about leaving Mr. Potter alone, Mr. Black," the mediwitch said as she moved towards the bed. She was wearing her apron over a fuzzy bathrobe that had a little bunny shape on the left breast. The picture set off images of teenage boys looking lover things teenage boys shouldn't have been able to buy at Muggle bookshops thanks to Aging charms. He tried to hold back a smirk, but didn't succeed.
"I don't want to hear what you are thinking, Mr. Black." Poppy glared at him. "Now, I will need for you to unwrap yourself from around Mr. Potter. You will interfere with my readings if you are touching."
Sirius grinned and gingerly - and comically - pulled away.
"I don't understand," Harry said as the lights went up a little more and he looked into Sirius' eyes. "What happened? Mr. Black?"
Poppy shushed him. "In the morning, now, dear. I'll check you over, and in the morning Professor Dumbledore can come and visit. I want you to rest - " here she glared at Siri again - "and don't worry about what happened. You concentrate on healing."