Chapter Two – Comfort

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J K Rowling I won nothing but the plot.

Rated R for language, mild violence and sexual situations.

This was the best part of the week; a Friday afternoon when school ended and the students were free to do whatever they wanted and go wherever their teenage imaginations took them. As usual Harry, Ron and Hermione went down through the school grounds to visit Hagrid.

The last time Harry had seen Hagrid he hadn't been in the mood to talk much. His whole world had just been turned upside down and the prospect of a future without Sirius was tearing him apart. Not that things were much different now – Sirius wasn't going to walk into a classroom any time soon and as much as Harry hated to remind himself, he was going to have to get used to living each day as it came.

No more looking forward to the day when Sirius is cleared of the charges he was sent to prison for, Harry thought as he made his way down to Hagrid's hut. In the distance Hagrid greeted them warmly with a wave of his large hands. The small hut was outlined against the cerulean blue sky and already some students had sneaked out of classes to swim in the lake.

"'Allo 'Arry, Ron, 'Ermione!" Hagrid's loud voice boomed.

"Hello Hagrid!" the three of them chorused as they broke into a run towards his hut.

"How did you three get on in your exams?" Hagrid asked pleasantly as he poured some hot tea into four oversized cups. "I 'eard ya did well; all three of you."

"Yeah, we all passed our Care of Magical Creatures O. W. L anyway", Harry informed him. Hagrid beamed from ear to ear.

"Well that's wonderful news!" said Hagrid as he handed out the cups. "I bet that was all because of me! All tha' great influence I 'ave on you!" Hermione choked on the tea she had just sipped. Hagrid, Harry and Ron all looked quickly at her while she searched for a handkerchief in her pocked, still spluttering.

"Yes, that's right Hagrid", Ron said, grinning painfully at him, and helpfully patting Hermione on the back (although he was patting her very hard). "That's exactly what Hermione is trying to say."

Harry quickly tried to change the subject, handing Hermione a tissue from his own pocket. "It's just such a pity I'm not keeping on your subject Hagrid but we'll all still visit you." Harry quickly regretted saying this as Hagrid's eyes began to water.

"It's awfully nice of you ter say that 'Arry", Hagrid snivelled. Ron snatched the tissue from Hermione and handed it to Hagrid. "An' you know that I'll be there for you 'Arry. Whenever you need me."

Don't get angry, he's just trying to help, he's just trying to help, Harry kept repeating in his mind. He didn't want to fall out with Hagrid over this. Usually he would get angry at the person and start shouting but Hagrid was sincerely trying to help.

"Thanks Hagrid", Harry said quickly, avoiding his gaze.

"I think it's time we should be going", Ron said getting up. "Come on Hermione." Ron set the cups on the table and he and Hermione walked towards the door. Although Harry thought it was extremely rude to leave after practically just arriving but he gratefully got up. If Hagrid was going to start flooding the place Harry didn't want to be there. "Ummmm", Ron began awkwardly looking at Harry.

"What?" snapped Harry in a low whisper.

"Hagrid wanted to talk to you alone. That's why me and Hermione are leaving."

Great! Just fantastic! Ron and Hermione were going to leave him here with Hagrid so that they could blubber their eyes out! Why couldn't he have friends who understood that people showing their emotions towards Harry made him freeze, bringing Sirius' death tearing back.

"Got something I want to show you 'Arry", Hagrid said excitedly, wiping away any remaining tears. He got up and ushered Ron and Hermione out and when he turned around Harry saw that he had a big smile on his face. His beetle-like eyes were alive with delight and as he offered Harry another drink of tea he rummaged in an old trunk for something.

Eventually Hagrid found what he'd been searching for and when he found it he gasped, "Ah, look at that!" and handed it to Harry.

Harry could tell who the waving person in the photograph was. The long, messy black hair unmistakably belonged to Sirius. He was sitting astride a huge black motorbike which looked quite old but had been very well cleaned and it appeared to be very well looked after.

"No need to tell you who that is!" Hagrid beamed. Harry felt the same pain and disturbance he'd felt when Mad Eye Moody had shown him the picture of the Order. Knowing that Sirius was dead made the photograph look empty and meaningless. Hagrid must have noticed Harry's numbness towards the photo because he changed his tone to talk more gently. "You know Harry, the night your parents died I came to Godric's Hollow and I found Sirius there. He told me to borrow his motorbike and take you somewhere safe. I did just that. Never got the chance to give him back the bike. . . But Remus told me ter give it to you. It once belonged to Sirius and now it belongs ter you."

A horrible feeling of guilt spread around inside Harry. How could he possibly accept something which once belonged to his godfather? Such a thing ought to be treasured and put away somewhere safe. The guilt settled like lead in his stomach now.

Hagrid took Harry outside to the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest and took him to a clearing where a large object was sitting in the shade. If Harry hadn't known what Hagrid was about to show him he would have sworn there was a smaller Grawp under the grey blanket covering the motorbike. The bike was obviously really large and this was conformed when the blanket was pulled off and the huge motorbike was revealed.

Its glinting black paint shone in the sun and it really looked impressive in the darkness of the forest. Against the little light there was the bike looked like it should be made into a monument of Sirius. It seemed to represent everything he was; impressive, powerful, mysterious and somehow alone. This forest couldn't have provided much company for it. Harry's guilt came back when he found himself in awe of the bike and couldn't help itching to ride it. And if he remembered correctly this motorbike was charmed to fly. He could have loads of fun on it. . . .

In a matter of minutes of guiding the bike out towards the castle Harry found himself the centre of attention from pupils with a bombardment of questions.

"Wow! Is that a motorbike?"

"Where'd you get it?"

Colin Creevey's camera flashed light on the bike.

"Are you Harry Potter?"

"How old is that bike?"

"Are you Harry Potter?"

"How does it work?"

Colin's camera went off again.

"Excuse me, are you Harry Potter?"

"OI!" Ron broke up the questions. He and Hermione came rushing towards him, ready to tell the younger pupils to leave him alone when they too noticed the bike. "Woah!" Ron gasped, his eyes wide.

"Harry, what is that?" Hermione asked as a group of other pupils came running over.

"I thought you'd know better than anyone here what a motorbike was, Hermione. What's that in your hand?" Harry asked Ron, when he noticed a letter addressed to him in his hand. He absently handed the letter to him; too busy gazing at the bike.

"Mum sent it", he said as if hypnotised by the bike. "It's from Lupin." When Harry took the letter from him it was almost as if Ron had broke free from a sort of spell and he leapt towards the bike.

"I know what it is Harry it was a rhetorical question", Hermione said impatiently, "but who owns it?"

"Can I have a go?" Dean Thomas asked earnestly. "Can I Harry, please?"

"Holy shite!" Seamus cried when he saw the bike. "How cool is that?"

Now about thirty pupils were crowded around Harry. He recognised a few of them; all from different houses. Even some Slytherins were nudging each other in surprise. The Creevey brothers were there, the Patil twins, Hannah Abbot, Ernie McMillan, Zacharias Smith, Terry Boot, Justin Finch- Fletchley, Mandy Brocklehurst and he even thought he saw Susan; that girl he'd met on the train. There were just too many people to count as they all crowed him for a good look at the bike.

"I want a go! Can I have a go, Harry?" Ron pleaded sounding a little like a five-year old. Something suddenly struck Harry; he didn't even know how to ride a regular motorbike never mind a flying one. Now he'd look stupid in front of everyone – especially Susan, which Harry was surprised to hear himself think. Just then the crowd started to part and it wasn't hard to find the reason why.

Hagrid's gigantic body moved everyone out of the way, clearing a path for himself to move towards Harry.

"Sorry, sorry", he kept mumbling when he bumped into what must have been the tenth person. "Forgot to give you these, Harry." Hagrid said when he reached him. In Hagrid's large hand was a pair of keys. "One's a spare", he informed Harry and dropped the keys into Harry's hand.

"Hagrid!" Harry whispered, hoping he'd hear him over the excited chatter of the crowd. "How do I ride this thing?"

"Oh sorry!" Hagrid exclaimed quietly, "it never occurred ter me that you wouldn't know how ter ride it." He moved towards the motorbike. "It's a piece o' cake really." Harry watched carefully as Hagrid inserted the keys, kicked the engine into life, revved the engine and each movement he made as the motorbike sped off. It looked incredible to drive. The roaring engine silenced the chatter immediately and Hagrid turned the bike to come to a stop in front of Harry.

It didn't take Harry very long to work out how to steer it and even get it a few feet off the ground. The twinge of guilt kept coming back every time he thought he'd bumped it too hard off the ground.

Everyone watched as Ron, Dean and Seamus took a few turns to ride the bike after Harry had worked out how to use it. Only Ron was trustworthy enough to actually fly it a little and Dean and Seamus were only allowed to drive it on the ground. Hermione didn't fancy the idea of driving it and Harry didn't even begin to trust Neville with it. Not that Neville wanted to have a go anyway. He was glad Hagrid had shown him how to ride it because Susan had been in the crowd, smiling shyly.

When it was time for dinner Harry felt relieved to put the motorbike away – Hagrid offered to keep it in his hut in case anyone took a chance on stealing it – and he, Ron and Hermione headed off for the Great Hall, where Harry could read his letter.

Harry made his way towards the owlery, simply seething with rage. His footsteps were loud and thumping with each step he took. Violence was how he liked to portray his anger. Stamping on the ground, pulverising his dinner with a fork, breaking things . . . you name it; he just destroyed it – whatever unfortunate object happened to be in his way at the time.

How dare he? Thought Harry angrily. How dare he? First Hagrid now Lupin!

Why did everyone feel the need to thrust Sirius' belongings under his nose? Did they think he could possibly forget Sirius was dead and Harry had forgotten now Sirius' belongings all belonged to him?

Clenched in his fist was a reply letter addressed to Lupin; Harry was sending back the two two-way mirrors (one of which Lupin had 'so kindly' fixed because Harry broke it last summer). What favours was Lupin doing giving him painful reminders of Sirius? To Harry they were no longer heir looms; they were sick, used, pastimes of his godfather. These very objects had been a part of Sirius' life once. Now that he was dead they should be respectfully put away in a box to be stored in an attic. Not let them hover around like some phantom part of Sirius' life. Not parade them around in front of Harry.

The letter had been written before hand. All Harry had to do was attach it to Hedwig.

Dear Professor Lupin,

How nice of you to think I would possibly treasure a piece of junk. If I didn't want it the first time, I won't want it now. Get it? Why do you think I broke one? I don't give two shits about inheritance or all this clinging to the past nonsense. So I suggest you put these mirrors away to gather dust where they belong.

Yours sincerely,

Harry: still alive and trying to get on with whatever pathetic life I still have left.

Of course Harry didn't mean all those things. He just didn't feel the need to have his nose rubbed into the fact that Sirius was dead and wasn't coming back. It was insulting that they thought Harry could possible benefit from these things. They could keep every single one of them if it meant Sirius could come back. Even for one day . . .

His fist banged against the door of the owlery which caused it to swing open immediately. Hedwig was around here somewhere.

"Oi! Hedwig!" Harry called out into the mass of birds perched around him. Just then the door opened behind him. Thinking it was Ron following him Harry spun around.

"What?"

It wasn't Ron. Unless Ron had suddenly gotten shorter, grew long blonde hair and was now stunningly pretty. Susan.

"I – I'm sorry", she stammered quietly, looking nervous.

Harry you bloody idiot!

"No. Don't be", Harry called back as she turned to hurry out. "It's me that should be sorry. I'm just not feeling very happy today."

The girl turned to face him; he had changed over the summer, she noticed, especially his face. The death of Sirius had changed him, she could see. His face was more tired looking and he had dark rings under his eyes caused by lack of sleep. When she had entered the room and he had snapped at her she had found him to be quite frightening, but now he looked genuinely sorry and she couldn't help but feel pity for him when he spoke to her in this apologetic manner.

"It's quite alright."

"No, it's not", he said softly. "I was a right bastard to you just now. I'm sorry."

A smile played about her lips. "I said it's quite alright."

"Thanks", was all he could say, feeling sheepish. That image of the hurt in her eyes would stay with him for a long time. There was a tragic beauty in Susan which could not be found in any other girl and he couldn't exactly tell why she looked this way. He had never truly noticed her before now; she was a normal girl, blending into the background and he could have sworn she used to always wear her hair back in a long plait or just tied back with a band. She stood before him now, breathing gently, her hair flowing freely near her waist, free from the constraints of a band.

"I was just going to send a letter to my auntie", she told him cheerfully, making her way towards a tawny owl.

"Yeah, I was just . . ." Harry looked at the insulting letter in his hand, then stuffed it into his jeans pocket, "going to see Hedwig."

"Your owl?" Susan asked as she clasped a letter to an owl's foot. The owl ruffled its feathers then took off into the bright, cloudless sky.

"That's right", Harry said, feeling the dryness in his throat. While clearing it he wondered why he was feeling a little more relaxed with Susan than he'd ever felt with Cho. Probably because she wasn't surrounded by giggling girls or crying her eyes out. "Your hair's different", he said, trying not to sound stupid, like he was stating the obvious.

"Thanks", she said uncertainly.

"In a good way", he added quickly. "It's nice." It's radiant, it's shiny, it's gorgeous . . .

"Do you think so? I just wanted to try wearing it out for a change." She checked that it wasn't too untidy in her reflection in the window.

"Yeah . . . nice", he reassured her. He stood nervously, thankful for the owl's wings flapping since it stopped silence intruding. "How's your aunt?" he asked when she didn't turn to leave.

"She's very well, thanks", she paused, thinking of something to say back but he didn't have very many people to enquire after. "How's Hedwig?" she asked finally, smiling at the snowy owl, who was now nipping at Harry's fingers. Well, Hedwig wasn't a family member but he was glad she hadn't asked about Lupin or someone like that. He'd probably have kicked something if she had.

Harry sighed all the same, he couldn't take his mind off what Hagrid and Lupin had done.

"To be honest I didn't really come down here to see Hedwig", he confessed, feeling surprised and relieved he wasn't kicking the owl droppings off the floor. "I came here to send a letter to Lupin. I'm a bit pissed off with him." A new feeling was creeping into his mind. Why was he telling her all this? Maybe because she didn't know him well enough to judge him. And yet he wanted to let her get to know him. So he continued, "He gave me something that belonged to my guardian – a mirror – and well . . . I don't want it."

Susan stood still, listening to his breathing; it had quickened and he was obviously upset. Last year she had watched him from a distance. From the DA she had come to know him as a teacher, and finally a person willing to help. And so she had come to admire him and had spoken to him on rare occasions, as an acquaintance. He was fast discarding his hero image (if he ever had one) and was not a mystery to her anymore. He was a regular teenage boy, with real feelings and a real heart. This was obvious if you looked past the trademark scar, black hair and glasses. Maybe Auntie had been wrong about him . . . .

"My guardian is Sirius Black - well was - he died you see. He was murdered . . ."

"I know", Susan said gently. Harry sat on a bench and Susan sat down next to him, sliding closer to him. Practically the whole school knows. I was going top ask you how you were but you're probably fed up with people asking you how you are. I mean, you're hardly going to feel right as rain are you? But you know Harry, I have a feeling you're going to feel better eventually-"

"Oh yeah?" Harry said angrily, jumping up. "How the hell can you sit there and tell me how I'll feel? You're just as bad as Lupin or Hagrid; doing what's right for me. That's fine but don't pretend you know how I feel because you don't!" Harry had said (or rather shouted) all of this very fast without stopping to think he might drive Susan away. But she just sat there calmly, looking at him sadly.

"You're wrong", she said simply, "because I do know how you feel. I know exactly how you feel." Harry's stomach twisted unpleasantly.

"How?" he asked sitting back down next to her.

Susan sighed heavily, looking as though she was seriously contemplating telling him what she had to say. "Because my family was killed by You-Know- Who." A silence passed between them. Harry's mind stared to drift back to a time when Professor Moody had shown him a picture of the Order of the Phoenix members before Voldemort had killed most of them too.

When he spoke his voice was shaking, now upset that he had roared at her, 'Why?'

"About fifteen years ago He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his power. He put terror into the lives of muggleborns, squibs and anyone who opposed him. Some people followed him; their purpose in life was to die for him. They were insane!" Susan stopped, her voice choking and Harry followed her expressions move from fear to anger. She clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white, and then she continued, "I was only a baby when they asked my father to join the Death Eaters. But he wouldn't because he wasn't like that, you know?" Harry nodded in understanding. "They promised him power and wealth but he still wouldn't.

When he refused that day they asked him to join they tried to kill him but he escaped. Instead of hiding he made a stand against the dark powers. He joined a group of witches and wizards in a revolt against . . . Voldemort", she choked again. Then a strange sparkle of triumph came into her eyes. "The Order of the Phoenix – that's what it was called. Voldemort was livid 'cause they were outsmarting them. They were being beaten."

Her eyes darkened. "But one night they found out where my dad lived. They were killing off Order members one by one and my dad was next on the list. They arrived at the house . . . and . . . and they murdered my family, my mum, my dad and my brother. I only survived because my aunt was looking after me at her house. Imagine that! Killing defenceless people when they least expected it . . ." her voice trailed off and she began to cry into her hands.

Harry awkwardly put an arm around her. He hadn't known. He did recall Moody showing him an old picture of the Order members and a man was in it. What was his name again? Edward . . . Edmund? Edgar! That was it; Edgar Bones 'brother of Amelia Bones'. He must have been Susan's father. Harry's stomach turned in disgust as it all stared to sink in. Susan was living with her aunt because her family had been murdered. His heart went out to her. He tightened his grasp on her shoulder to show how much he cared. She moved in close to him, resting her head on his chest.

And just because he felt completely at ease with her and to show how much he understood her pain he told her all about Cedric's death. Every little detail, his heart pouring out all his pain and suffering. Then he told her about Sirius' death and she sat and listened patiently. He'd never even told his closest friends about those deaths. She made him feel like he could say anything. The best about it was; he felt better after telling her everything. She was so understanding . . . the sat in the owlery together, comforting each other. The letter in Harry's pocket was left undelivered . . .

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