Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue, and there's no point even if you do sue me, because I am currently leeching money off my tight fisted father and have just gone out before sitting down to write this instalment and spent my last £1.12 on a can of Pepsi Max and some TicTacs, and the last 6p went into the NSPCC collection box, so I am now, quite literally, penniless.
Warnings: Same old, same old. Deals with the aftermath of violence and self-harm, bit of angst, bit of a tear-jerker if you're sensitive, but most of it's just a bit of fluff coz I ain't nothing but a Sirius Black loving H/C junkie!
AN: Since I saw how many people liked the story and wanted it to continue, I decided to toy with the thought for a while, before I realized something…I don't know what to do with the plot! sigh. I figure I can do one more chapter as sorta and epilogue (this chapter, actually) and then leave it and start editing my other story.
Another AN: As one of my other friends on here has informed me, my story (Daughter of Death) has a similar plot in some parts to another story on here ('The Chosen' by riaJem, which, btw, is incredible. If you haven't read it, you really should, it's brilliant!) But I can assure you in advance that I got no inspiration for any part of my story from 'the chosen' and the plot goes completely different after a while anyways. Just thought I should let you know.
And another AN: Seeing as how I spent hours talking to Sam, and she hasn't come up with a name for my character, the honour falls to the second reviewer, I can see Thestrals, AKA the wonderful Kaitlin, so, Kaitlin, if you would like to post a name for the character other than your own, please do so in another review and I shall get on with it.
Yet another AN (this is the last one, I promise!): I'm sorry that most of the chapters had that horrible 'rushed' feeling to them (I know that they did!) but then, I did write the whole thing in under three hours, I suppose one miracle a night is enough. Don't worry, I intend to redo and update them a little better when I get the time, which, knowing my schedule, probably won't be for months. So, people, I shall attempt to make it up to you.
And so I give you…
…The one…
…The only…
…The final…
…CHAPTER SEVEN!
Harry was released from St. Mungos the next day, with strict instructions to take it easy, preferably taking a few days bed-rest. It had taken a while, but with the assistance of a few choice phrases he was relatively sure his mother wouldn't have approved of, Harry had convinced Sirius that although he didn't need to be running a marathon or playing Quiddich for England right now, he did not need to stay in a bed for longer then he was asleep at night, and therefore any further discussion was not only pointless, but rather dangerous.
Now, Sirius, Harry and Remus were at the Rooks nest, a three bedroom home in the middle of the woods somewhere in Scotland. It had an invisibility shield around it, so that anyone who walked by would just see a massive mound of earth. The shield would only drop for people who had been present while the spell was cast, therefore, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, Mr and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Remus, Harry, Sirius, Tonks, Snape and Mad-eye had all been present as Dumbledore cast the charm.
The house itself was quite small…A living room, kitchen which doubled as a dining room, bathroom, three bed rooms, and the basement. It has a distinct feeling of warmth, much like the one at the Weasley house, and everything in it was magical. The television showed Quiddich matches and Wizards new, as well as the usual movies and TV shows, all the mirrors and pictures spoke to you, even the wallpaper changed of its own accord every now and then. There was even an enchantment on the door so that it wouldn't open, except for a password ("we solemnly swear we are up to no good" AN: How can you tell it's a Marauders house?).
They had been there now for three days. The only thing that still needed doing was some last touch decorating in the up-stairs bedrooms and everything would be finished, and the Marauders would be free to concern themselves with other issues at hand…such as the reoccurring nightmare of Harrys that was fast giving him cause for concern regarding Dreamless Sleep potion addictions. In the four nights since Sirius and Harry had spoken in the hospital, Harry had spent one with Sirius, two under the affects of the potion, and one awake, as he had refused both. Both Sirius and the potion kept the dream away, but neither solved the problem in the long run, and it wasn't just going to leave on its own.
But that wasn't important at the current moment…Harry and Sirius were attempting to remove the splotches of multi-shaded purple paint from the walls before Remus appeared and saw what they had done to the room.
"What the Hell?!"
Too late.
"uh, Remus…old mate…" Sirius began, scratching the back of his head with his wand and trying desperately to look innocent.
"Don't you even try it, Sirius Orion Black," growled Remus, waving his wand at his friend. He walked into the middle of the room and looked around, seeing the rainbow of purples and plumbs coating his once forest green room.
"Shall I repeat my previous question?" He asked with an exhasperated sigh for good measure.
"Erm…"
"Well…"
Remus raised an eyebrow expectantly.
"We thought you could use a new colour scheme," began Sirius.
"I thought you'd like red…" put in Harry.
"I thought blue," Sirius continued.
"nu-uh," Harry said, turning to his Godfather. "He's a Gryfindor, you show my a Gryfindor that doesn't like red!"
Remus shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, before turning his back on his friends and flicking at the distant wall with his wand, layering it once again with deep cool green.
"I – Like – My – Room – Green," He said, splashing the colour across the walls and ceiling with each word. "Thanks." He finished with the floor.
Harry and Sirius gulped in unision as Remus turned back to them.
"You two make sure it stays that way," he growled. "Else you'll match it."
Harry and Sirius, both suppressing grins, lowered their heads and shuffled out of the room, listening to Remus sigh of "children…"
The few days spent in the Rooks Nest had so far been wonderful for everyone concerened. They had had visitors and well wishers and red-heads galore. Sirius and Harry had practised Quidditch out back and Remus had had fun with the retaliation for the purple room. A prank war had begun between Sirius and the Weasley twins, much to Mrs. Weasleys disgust, and Sirius had managed to convince the door to announce 'Percy is a Prat' if the traitor or the Ministry Moneys ever tried to turn up at the door.
But now, however, was the time Harry hated the most.
Nine minutes past midnight.
Sirius hadn't been un-cool enough to give him a bed time per-say, he was far to brilliant (according to him). However, Madame Pomfrey had no qualms about forcing a sleeping draught down the boys throat if he was still out of bed when she got there at ten past midnight to make sure.
"The child needs bed rest," she had argued.
Harry felt the last thing he needed was a bed.
The problem, however, arose not so much from the fact that Harry hated sleeping, or going to bed, but from the fact that although Sirius was safe, and home, and free, Harry couldn't help but dream that it wasn't so. Every night he would fall asleep, and when he opened his eyes in the dream world, all he would see would be the Death Room in the Ministry of Magic, and no matter how he tried, he was powerless to turn away or block out the sounds and sights as that fateful night unfolded over and over in his mind until he finally awoke in a cold sweat, usually with one or both of the houses other occupants by his side.
So far, he had slept peacefully twice since that night in June. One was when he had taken a dreamless-sleep potion, and the other was the night in the hospital when Sirius had sung him to sleep, and, according to Remus, continued the chorus for several hours until he himself had dozed off.
However, the Dreamless Sleep potion was too addictive to take more than once in a blue moon without risks, and Harry was too loathe to be an inconnvienience by asking Sirius to stay with him again, even though that's what his Godfather insisted on doing anyway during the witching hours of the night after the household was woken.
"Harry," A voice behind his announced the arrival of his Godfather.
"Speak of the Devil," Harry greeted.
"Devil?" asked Sirius innocently. "Me? I'm hurt."
He chuckled as Harry grinned.
"I know," moaned Harry. "Bedtime."
"Not my choice, kid. You know that." Sirius told him as they made their way upstairs. For all his insistence that he would treat Harry as an adult, Sirius was still hell-bent on tucking him in at night. Sirius excuse was that he had a lot of time to catch up for, and Harry didn't argue. He knew how much it tore at Sirius that he had been forced to grow up with the Dursleys instead of with his Godfather, so he didn't press the matter.
"I know," muttered Harry.
"Do you want me to stay?" asked Sirius as they reached Harrys room.
Harry shook his head.
"No," he told him. "You're okay."
Sirius sighed, again. This was what happened every night so far.
"Harry, you know I'll not sleep tonight if you wake up again. I don't know why you won't let me help."
Even as he said the words, he knew what Harrys response would be.
"Because I have to do this on my own, Sirius."
Sirius sighed again, and nodded, before leaving, cursing himself for not fighting harder. But he knew it was no use. His Godson would not accept comfort from any man…even the man who had come to think of him and love him as a son. He knew that Harry felt that the nightmares were something he had to confront alone…
But Harry wasn't alone now.
Neither of them were. Had Sirius not vowed to Harry that neither of them would have to suffer alone again just three days previous?
"Sirius!" Called Madame Pomfrey from the Hallway. "I hope younge Mr. Potter is asleep by now."
"Of course, Poppy." Muttered Sirius slumping onto one of the arm-chairs.
"Sounds like you could use some rest too," she scolded lightly. "He kept you up again last night?"
"Don't do that!" Snapped Sirius. " you make it sound like he does it on purpose, he doesn't."
Poppy snapped up and placed her hands on her hips in a temper.
"Sirius Orion Black, do not take that tone of voice with me or I will slip a magic strength laxative into your next meal!"
Sirius just sighed and sunk back into his chair.
"I'm sorry Poppy," he told her. "I just don't know how to help him. I mean, he's my Godson, and I just…I don't know. What should I do?"
Poppy took the seat opposite him and looked hard for a moment, as though she was in deep thought.
"Well, there you go," she told him at last. "You've just said it. What should you do?"
"What?"
"If I tell you, then you're not doing what you would do, you're doing what I would do, and that's not what Harry needs right now. Do what feels natural."
Sirius lets out a frustrated moan and snaps "I love him! I wanna help him! I wanna stay with him at nights because that helps him, but he won't let me! He says he wants to do it on his own, but he can't! It's just not working! He's not sleeping, I'm not sleeping, he's not getting better, and I just feel so useless because I'm his Godfather, I'm his guardian, and I spent so long trying to prove that I could do it and now I can't and I hate it, I hate being this useless!"
By the time Sirius had finished, his face was purple and he was all but shouting.
"That's good," Poppy tells him. "But I'm not the one you should be telling."
Sirius looks up at her as she stands, patting a hand on his shoulder.
"Goodnight, Sirius."
Within a second, she was gone, and Sirius was left alone once more with his thoughts.
Allready, Sirius could hear the sounds from upstairs which heralded one of his Godsons dreaded nightmares. Exhaustion must be making him sink into sleep faster, Sirius realized.
Sighing, he picked himself up and jogged to Harrys room.
By the time he got there, Harry was thrashing amongst the tangled mass of sheets on his bed, his mouth hung open in a silent scream, his mouth moving in formless pleas…but with no sound.
That shouldn't be happening.
"Finate Incantatum," Sirius muttered, and immediately the room burst into sound.
Harry cried out once more, his Godfathers name a desperate sound on his lips, before he finally struggled awake. Sirius was beside him instantly.
Harry did not register who the warm mass beside him was, nor why it was there. His subconscious mind simply clung to it whilst his body caight up with itself.
"It's okay, Harry," whispered Sirius, rubbing circles on his Godsons back. "You're okay, I've got you, you're okay."
Words continued to tumble from Sirius mouth in a jumbled litany of comfort until Harry finally pulled himself away with an embarrassed sniff.
"sorry," he muttered, turning away from his Godfather. "I must have woken you again."
"No," Sirius assured him. It's barely half an hour since I left you, I haven't even been to bed yet."
Harry snorted. "That's even better then."
Harry stretched and yawned, his eyes beginning to droop shut once again.
"I'm so tired," he mumbled absently.
Sirius shifted closer towards Harry and tried his argument one more time.
"Harry, please," Sirius begged. "Please let me stay with you. We'll both be better off for it…"
"No, Sirius!" Snapped Harry. "I want to do this on my own, damn it! I'm better than this, I will not be beated by a few bad dreams!"
Sirius sighed. "No, harry, you won't. But you shouldn't have to try and fight them alone. That's what I'm here for."
"I can't keep running to you whenever I need something, Sirius. I need to learn to survive on my own."
"Harry," Sirius whispered, bringing himself nearer to his Godson. "You've been alone for the last fifteen years. You are dreaming these things now because you aren't alone, and you're afraid you will be alone again. Until your mind knows I'm not going anywhere, it'll keep being afraid."
Sirius reached over to his Godson in an attempt to touch his shoulder, to comfort him, but Harry pulled away.
"I'm not afraid, Sirius." He muttered defiantly.
"Really?" Sirius asked. "Because I am. We're at war, Harry. I'm scared of dying, because I know my last thought will be that I'll be leaving you behind. I'm afraid that one of my friends will die, and, God have mercy on me, I am terrified that you will die. I don't want to loose you after all this time, Harry." Sirius reached up once again to Harrys shoulder, and when he didn't flinch away, Sirius moved his hand up to Harrys chin, tilting his face up towards his. "Do you remember what I said in the hospital, about we have to help each other?" harry nodded a little. "I meant it. You wouldn't hesitate to silence my fears, would you?" A small shake before Harry ducked his head again. "You're not alone anymore, Harry. And if I have anything to say about it, you never, ever, will be again. Please, let me stay?"
There was a Hiatus, a moment of dead, a moment where sound, movement, life itself, seemed to stop, suspended and stretched in a frozen moment.
"Okay," Harry finally replied.
Smiling, Sirius wrapped an arm around his Godson and pulled him down onto the bed so that Harry's head was laid against his Godfathers chest. Sirius took Harrys' other hand in his, and pressed his thumb into Harry's palm, causing Harrys fingers to reflexively curl around it.
"Sleep, Harry." Murmered Sirius, before he began to hum a formless tune.
Eventually, harry's breathing evened out and slowed, and eventually, Harry succemed to sleep, one which was filled with warm arms and a rich, soft voice, and a promise which would never be broken again…
"You're not alone anymore…"
I know you're in pain
I know that it hurts
Now that I'm not buy your side
But I want you to know
That I still love you so
That without me, you still can survive
And there'll be no more pain
No internal war
And you'll finally know
You're not alone anymore.
For my brother
Never alone