Chapter One:
Harry looked down at the box in front of him. It was ragged and smelled of mold and years gone passed.
"What's in it?" he looked up at Remus. There was a tear in the corner of his eye. Quickly Lupin wiped it away on the sleeve of his patched robe and smiled sadly at Harry.
"It's just a bunch of James and Sirius' old school stuff. Notebooks, clothes, textbooks... I thought you'd like to have it."
Harry's gaze whipped back to the box. "How come I've never seen this before?"
"I've only just found it," Remus sniffed caressing the box lightly. "It was hidden beneath the floorboards of Sirius' old bedroom. I hadn't the heart to look at it myself. Not that there is much point. I knew them both. But you... well you never really had a chance to get to know either of them so I thought this would be a good way to have that chance."
"Thanks," Harry whispered. He felt tears sting his already blood shot eyes. Lupin patted his arm in a caring manner.
"It's okay to cry Harry. It's doesn't make you any less of a man."
"I just miss them so much," the tears cascaded freely down his face. Lupin wrapped his arms around Harry.
"I do too. I do too," Lupin whispered as his owns sorrow rolled down his cheeks and dripped into Harry's messy black hair. He reached up his hand and rubbed the back of Harry's head. "But even so Harry we must still remain strong. As Dumbledore said it's Voldermort's gift to spread hurt and discord and this war has only just begun. We can't allow him the pleasure of knowing he's really hurt us. Many more lives will be lost but that's the price for freedom sometimes. I wish it wasn't so but we've been backed into a corner."
Harry pulled away. He wiped the snot and tears off on his robe. "I'm sorry," he looked at the huge tearstain on Remus' chest.
Lupin looked down, his own tears dissipating. "Oh that doesn't matter. I've spilt worse on this old thing."
Harry laughed, but the sadness still remained in his piercing green eyes.
Remus ruffled his hair with a fatherly affection. "Well I'll leave you three to get to know each other," he said, walking across the creaking floorboards. "See-ya Harry." Lupin shut Harry's door behind him and Harry heard his footsteps moving down to the foyer.
"What a bunch a sissies," chuckled a rather cruel voice. Harry looked over at the wall to a painting that was usually empty. Only now there sat Phineas Nigellus ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts. He had a pointed beard and donned the Slytherin colours.
"Hello Phineas," Harry said sullenly. Unfortunately he had become accustomed to the painting's random visits to his bedroom.
"I still don't see what Albus sees in you. You carry the fate of us all and here your are crying on another mans shoulder. Of course I knew from the first second that I saw that you were just a little cream puff without an ounce of man in that skinny body of yours. But still I had hoped you wouldn't go down that road. Now all you're fit for is hosting tea parties not for saving the world from an evil dark lord. Leave that job to the real men."
Harry stood up tall and tried to wipe the redness from his face. "I was not crying," he objected glaring at the portrait.
Phineas shook his head. "You could at least take some responsibility. That's one virtue that every kind of man should have regardless of who he enjoys to shag. So be a man Potter. Were you crying?"
"Yes," Harry muttered wishing he could tear Phineas' canvas to shreds.
"There that wasn't so hard now was it? Remember Potter always take responsibility and your life will be better off for it. No one likes a liar."
"Thanks," Harry said, not really appreciative of the life lesson he was being taught.
"Oh it's absolutely pointless! Back when I was Headmaster the boys all had a sense of honour. They may have been absolute prats but they still knew how to be men. Nowadays boys never grow-up. Oh they might look grown-up but they are still a kid inside. You know why that is Potter?"
"No sir," Harry wished Phineas would go away so he could open the box.
"Because we're treating you all too soft. Now we have spells for most everything and more men aren't having to work hard to make a living. They never have a chance to build character. I say we drop them all out on a deserted island with no wands and then we'll see how they turn out. Probably be more appreciative of what they have and not always want more."
"You sound like Filch," Harry said before he could stop himself.
"Ahh Filch is a good man if ever I've seen one. He really knows the meaning of a hard days work."
Harry snickered at the thought of Filch being a nice man. He could just see it.
"Flowers for everyone," he would scream running down the aisles between the house tables tossing daisies to everyone.
"Don't know why I even bother," Phineas stroked his beard. "Just remember no good comes from dwelling on the past."
They were back to the crying.
"Sirius is dead Harry. Nothing can change that. Not crying, not anything. Don't listen to that rubbish old wolfy was spouting. It's never good to cry. Never."
"Yeah sure," Harry blew Phineas off.
"Ungrateful little wretch. Just tell Lupin that Dumbledore is calling together a meeting. It's urgent."
"What's so urgent?" Harry asked, his inquisitive nature interested.
"It's none of your damn business! Now tell him!"
"Fine I'll tell him. You don't need to get all mean about it." Harry said defensively.
"Pouf," Phineas said disappearing from the frame.
"And I'm not a pouf!" Harry screamed at the wall.
"Whatever you say," said Phineas' voice now only a whisper on the wind.
Harry flipped him off while opening his door. He walked quietly onto the landing not wanting to wake Sirius' mum. The door slammed behind him making Harry tense, but nothing happened. The house remained quiet. Not a single breath could be heard. Remus and Harry were there alone.
The Order was out working on whatever missions they had been assigned. Ron and Hermione were out at lunch with Fred and George as their chaperones.
"No kinky stuff around us you hear," Fred had joked as they walked out of the house.
Harry had been invited but he really didn't want to go out to lunch. Besides he would've felt like a third wheel. Ron and Hermione were a couple and the twins had brought along dates to help them chaperone. Of course Mrs. Weasley didn't know they were. She wouldn't have taking kindly to the idea of three teenage couples on a date together. Then again why she even trusted Fred and George for the job in the first place was still beyond Harry's comprehension.
After they had left him and Ginny played a game of wizard's chess. Both of them played pathetically so it wasn't much fun. About an hour later Ginny said she had to meet Luna in Diagon Alley so she got ready and then left without even bothering to inquire if Harry wanted to go. Though he didn't really want to go it would've been nice if she invited anyway.
So now it was just Harry and Remus and Sirius' mother but she didn't really cause that much of a stir anymore.
Harry opened the kitchen door and walked down into it. Remus was sitting by the fire with a picture in his hand. The glow of the flames danced on Lupin's face and Harry could see the trail of tears running down his flushed cheeks.
"Hey," Harry whispered from the bottom of the stairs. Remus turned around, his eyes were rimmed with red and he looked as if a ton of bricks had just been laid on his very soul.
"Sorry I'll come back later," Harry turned for the door, sorrow already rising up in him again.
"No it's okay," Remus choked; his voice was full of a thousand tears.
Harry told himself crying was okay and that it didn't make him less of a man. "Nothing can change the past. Not crying, not anything. Sirius is dead Harry." Phineas' voice whispered in his pounding head. Harry pushed it away and strode across the room, all the while trying and failing to keep his own sadness buried deep inside him.
He plopped down onto the floor next to Remus and stared into the flames. They were dancing, a pagan dance of mourning from some long forgotten day and age. But all the same Harry knew what it was for it mirrored exactly how he felt. He wished he could just rid himself of all this pain, dance every last bit of it away. He'd heard somewhere that music freed the soul.
"Hypnotising aren't they?" Remus softly said looking straight into the heart of the fire.
"Yeah," Harry choked. More than anything he wanted Sirius to be there next to him. Then the house wouldn't be covered in the smothering blanket of sorrow that had settled on it preceding Sirius' death.
"My mom once told me that flames were the dancers in the dark and that no matter what they would always be there dancing and bringing to this world warmth."
Harry nodded, yet he felt no warmth or comfort from this fire. It was a funeral pyre for Sirius. It was a pagan fire. Harry stared into the flames. He could see the witches of long ago dancing around the burning pyre of their deceased sister. Their wailing filled Harry's ears, their tears rolled down his face.
Remus put his arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him close. "It's okay Harry. Everything will be okay in the end."
"No it won't. I'll still see his death in my head. The look on his face will still haunt me. Not even a thousand years will make that go away." Harry wanted to hit something.
"Your right. But in time you'll come to accept it."
"How con you do this?!" Harry pulled away and stood up. "I come in here and you're balling your eyes out! Then I start and you tell me everything will be okay! What do you believe Lupin? Do you really think everything will be okay?"
Lupin's face became hard and grey. His usually sparkling blue eyes were icy and lifeless. "I do."
Harry crumpled to the floor in tears. "How can everything be okay?" he sobbed. "How can it be when I still see his face as he was falling?"
"That's why I gave you the box. I thought that maybe it would allow you to see who Sirius was before Azkaban killed his spirit, before he... I wanted you to be able to put that image of him dying to the many other images of him living."
Harry looked up into Lupin's face. "It wouldn't help." He choked back more tears.
A shadow of a smile flashed across Remus' face. "I think it would help. At first it may feel like it won't but after a while you'll begin to move through the grief. Even I'm a mess because of this Harry. But it's my job, as the adult, to watch over you. Make sure you get through this. That's why I'm telling you everything will be okay."
Harry sadly nodded cuddling up next to Remus. He stared at the picture that was in Lupin's lap.
It was snowing and a younger Remus was making snowballs. Sirius sauntered into the frame with a snowball behind his back. He held his finger to his lips and tip toed towards Remus. But he needn't do that. Remus spun around just then and launched a huge snowball right into Sirius' face.
Harry tried to laugh but it became more of a desperate sob. Remus smiled, a truly genuine smile, as he looked down at the picture,
"Good-bye Sirius" Remus thought watching as Sirius tackled him to the ground.
Harry felt his grief receding for the moment and as it did he remembered the reason for coming down here in the first place.
"Dumbledore is calling a meeting. Phineas said it was urgent." Harry sat up and hugged his knees.
"What?" Remus stood up.
"He showed up about five minutes ago and told me that Dumbledore wanted to talk to you in."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Remus rushed across the kitchen, any thought of grief gone. He grabbed his cloak off the rack and rushed up the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked standing up, he too forgetting his sorrows.
"Harry next time Phineas comes tell me right away. Okay?"
"Okay," Harry wondered what the rush was.
"Now stay out of trouble and I'll be back as soon as possible. Don't leave the house. Got that?"
"Sure. But where are you going?" Harry followed Remus to the hallway.
"I have to meet Albus. Lock the door after me," Remus rushed out of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Bye," Harry called, as the door slammed shut. He manually shut every single one of the magical locks on the door and then trudged up the stairs to his bedroom.
"Wonder what is so important?" he thought closing his bedroom door. The box was sitting there at the foot of his bed. Harry walked over and lifted up the top. Maybe it would help.