Knowledge by suffering entereth, And life is perfected by Death.

--Elizabeth Barrett Browning

A Disturbing Happening

The Present...

Sleep still did not come.

Sirius tossed and turned about in his bed. The sheets were tangled in large knots around his body, and half of his comforter was strewn across the floor. He could hear the seconds ticking away on the clock in the hall, but all that did was sharpen his senses. Why did he feel so off? His instincts were screaming that something was wrong. But what? There were thousands of wards on the house. No one could take one step on a single blade of grass of their lawn without the proper access spells, and even then there were loopholes. It didn't make sense.

What was wrong?

From where Sirius lay, he could hear Harry sneeze from his own bedroom. The sound was refreshing, but it soothed Sirius' nerves only slightly. Whatever was going on inside of him, he still had Harry here.

Pressing his eyes tightly shut and ignoring the cold chill that was seeping in beneath one of the cracked windows of the bedroom, Sirius tried desperately to grasp at some fraction of sleep. His eyes were heavy with weariness, and his back screamed for rest. But his heart was pounding too fast, and there was a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. It was as if he were riding on an extremely fast roller coaster without a safety harness.

Gravity was soon going to take its course and throw him from this little bracket of safety he had regained in his life.

Groaning against the strain of his nerves, Sirius finally gave into the insomnia and left his bedroom. He took his wand from the side table drawer and slipped it firmly into one of the pockets of his house robes. Tip toeing by Harry's room so to not risk waking him up, he made his way to the kitchen and started the strongest pot of coffee he dare make at this hour of the night.

'Morning,' he groaned in his own head, looking up at the wall clock to see that it was well past midnight.

Sighing, Sirius continued on with his coffee pot until the brew was finished and half of it was drained. Maybe a warm drink would help put him to sleep. Of course, Sirius didn't want to count the high amount of caffeine he had just put into his system.

He'd worry about that in the morning. Later on during this morning.

A glance at the nearby calendar told Sirius that September first was fast approaching. Harry would be returning to Hogwarts.

The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore had assured Sirius over and over again that his godson would be safe. Extra protection had been placed upon the castle, and upon the Gryffindor common room, to doubly ensure the boy's safety.

Yet, for all it was worth, Sirius still didn't trust it. If Harry wasn't here, with him, then he would never be satisfied. The words of Albus Dumbledore would not sooth his mind until he could see for himself that Harry was well protected.

And no measure of protection, when concerning Harry Potter, excluded Sirius Black from the mixture.

'Get over yourself, Black,' said a voice while he rested his forehead in the palm of his hands. 'You're going to have to let go.'

But what did that mean? How could Sirius just let go when it seemed as though all of the world was trying to swallow up that which he cared for most?

'He's growing up. You're not going to be able to hold his hand forever.'

Why couldn't he? So much time had been stolen from them. It wasn't fair! He wasn't ready to let go of someone that had just been given back to him!

'You were never part of the bigger picture. Harry will have to deal with these things on his own, and he can't afford to have the people he cares for get in the way. Not when it could mean losing them.'

Sirius sighed. What was one more person lost to this war, he wondered. In reality, people died everyday. What was one more person?

'Ask yourself that when it's Harry that's dead.'

Sirius stiffened, seeing the point of his alter ego's words. Apparently at some point in time during Harry's alleged absence he'd developed some form of schizophrenia. Either that or he had just gotten used to talking to himself way too much.

Sighing, Sirius tossed his cup in the sink and started back upstairs. Rubbing his temple, he peered into the open doorway of Harry's bedroom for a second, his eye caught on a peculiar sight.

Harry was curled into a tight ball amidst a mess of sheets and blankets, as though he were doubled over in pain. His frame seemed to tremble slightly, as if he were cold, and his breathing was coming in short, labored breaths.

Frowning, Sirius tiptoed into the room and came around the other side of his godson's bed. He gasped at the sight.

Harry was lying in pools of sweat. His face was white in the florescent glow of the moon outside, and his eyes were pinched tightly shut. His arms were folded over his stomach as though trying to ease away the desire to vomit, and small, short whimpers were escaping his lips as though he were in dire pain.

Sirius fell to his knees, gently shaking the boy awake.

"Harry? Harry?" he whispered gently, trying desperately to blanket the fear in his own voice. He'd never seen anyone so ill before in his life! "Harry, it's Sirius! Wake up, kiddo."

"I am awake," Harry croaked, not opening his eyes.

Sirius jumped at the sudden response, but didn't dare move away from the bedside. "What's wrong?"

"Sick." Was all Harry could manage.

"I can see that," Sirius breathed, not intending to sound sarcastic. Harry opened one eye glaringly, but didn't say anything. "Was it something you ate?"

Harry grimaced. "Maybe."

Sirius frowned. All of a sudden he wasn't so sure. Harry and he had both had the same thing for dinner. If that were the case, he would be ill as well.

"Can you move?" Sirius asked.

Harry opened one eye again. "The question....is...do I want to?"

The man couldn't help but break a small grin at his godson's attempt with sardonic humor. It didn't really suit Harry to talk that way, but this was truly no time for arguing.

"All right. I'm going to turn the light on."

Harry nodded to show that he had heard.

Sirius lifted his wand from his pocket and slowly illuminated the lamp by the bed. The image was even more disturbing under light.

Harry was whiter than the sweat stained sheets he was lying on. His face dripped with rivers of perspiration and saliva, but the pain in his abdomen was so intense that he'd barely noticed. Sirius, panicking, reached down to pull Harry out of the bed only to find his upper extremities icy to the touch. This wasn't an illness.

These were the effects of poison.

Sirius felt his body tremor beneath his robes at this realization. How had this happened? When? Why?

He couldn't wait for the answers.

"Harry," Sirius hissed in a very strained voice. He was slowly losing his grip on himself and everything around him. "Harry I'm going to call Mungos. You need to get to a doctor."

The boy nodded in understanding. For a second, Sirius had hoped to find a reflection of the child he'd never known within the boy, but there was nothing. Harry didn't ask for him to stay by his side. He didn't ask for Sirius to make it go away. He didn't ask anything. He simply nodded, understanding and never questioning his godfather's reasoning.

Although touched, Sirius was slightly disappointed.

Gently running his fingers through the messy mop of hair, he promised to return soon and sped away down the halls.

"Ergot," said the nurse while Sirius bounced on the balls of his feet to quell his nerves. This word, however, stopped him cold.

"What?"

"Ergot."

Sirius frowned. "That's a fungi-based poison."

"I know," said the nurse, frowning. "He hasn't ingested any-"

"We both ate the same thing. There's no way he'd have gotten sick and not me. His immune system is better than mine."

The woman frowned. "Well, is it possible this could have been intentional. Is there anyone who's had a quarrel with your godson lately?"

Sirius, despite his nervousness, had to laugh. "This is Harry Potter you're talking about. What do you think?"

The nurse looked up at him blankly before finally catching on to his intentions. "I-I see. I'm sorry,"

"It's all right," he lied. "Can I see him now?"

The woman sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, but he's still resting in intensive care right now. You can come see him when he wakes up." Sighing, Sirius ran his fingers over his temples. "I'm sorry, sir, but it's --"

"I know," Sirius sighed. "I know."

The nurse left him standing in the empty corridor, wondering what on earth could have happened over the past twenty four hours that might have landed them back here in Mungos.

He wasn't given a great deal of time to reflect, however, for at that moment a familiar face came padding down the hall toward him, white faced and weary-worn after a very long broom-ride from his loft to London.

"Sirius! What happened?"

"Remus? What the hell are you-"

"I just received an Owl from Dumbledore that Harry was hospitalized due to poisoning."

"You just...an owl.....you...wait, how does Dumbledore know?"

Remus allowed himself a small grin. "You know Dumbledore. Never misses a thing, that man."

There was a bout of silence until finally Sirius fell into Remus' embracing arms, teary eyed and exhausted. "I don't know what happened!" he started sobbing all of a sudden. "He was fine when he went to bed...then all of a sudden...."

Remus waited quietly, allowing his friend this moment of uncharacteristic neediness.

"The world is falling apart."

"You got to him in time, Sirius," Remus said, doing his very best to console his friend. "That's all that matters."

"No, it's not all that matters," he croaked. "We never went out today. We were in the house all day. How could something so stupid have slipped in like that?"

Remus frowned, pulling Sirius out at shoulder length to look him in the face. "What are you talking about?"

"This wasn't a coincidence."

"Sirius, I think you're being paranoid--"

"No! Listen!"

Remus sighed. "Very well, Padfoot, you have my attention."

"All day today...we were in the house. We both skipped breakfast cause we got up late. We didn't eat much of a lunch so we split a bowl of popcorn while watching a movie, and when we finally settled down to dinner we had the exact same thing."

There was a suspicious frown forming on Remus' face. "Are you saying...?"

"Somehow, someone or something slipped something into Harry's food."

There was another bout of silence in which Remus tried to consider this.

"That's impossible!" Remus stated at length. "There's no way-"

"Well I sure as hell didn't poison him Remus, and I don't think Hedwig would either."

"I wasn't implying that at all."

More silence followed.

"I don't like this," was all Remus could think to say after a few minutes had ticked by. "You really should report this to Dumbledore."

Sirius shivered and placed his hands above his elbows. "I will, as soon as I hear news on Harry's condition."

"Don't bother," Remus said after a moment's hesitation. "I'll write him. He'll be wanting to know more on what happened. Believe it or not, the man doesn't know everything all the time."

At that, Remus winked and turned on his heel to leave. "I'll be back," he shot over his shoulder.

Sirius merely shrugged. It was going to be a long night.