¤ Before I even start, I want to thank everyone for all the support they gave me at the end of last chapter. As I said, that was the hardest thing I've had to write yet, and rather than spaz out at me (like I would have if I were reading the story) you all helped me and reassured me that you weren't going to kill me. So, thanks. ¤
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot. Harry Potter™ is the sole intellectual property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros. and various others who all aren't connected to me in any way. No money is being made with this fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended.
§ ¤ § Chapter Four: Uncharitable Charity § ¤ §
"So, how are we getting home?" Harry asked Sirius as they finished breakfast (dry cereal—Harry suspected that Sirius wasn't very good at cooking anything else).
"Well, it's actually closer to just walk home than to walk back to the Floo station." Sirius checked his watch, "If we're on the road pretty soon, it'll be at least eleven by the time we get back—Remus and KayKay will have to be up by then—and I can hoodwink them into cooking dinner tonight."
Harry rolled his eyes but laughed all the same as he closed the cereal box and stood up, stretching.
"Well, in that case, we'd better get our stuff packed up." Harry said, taking the first tent stake out of the ground. He jumped as the rest of the tent came free and rolled itself tightly before shrinking and jumping into the carrying case along with the rest of their things. Harry looked over his shoulder at Sirius who was holding his wand and smiling innocently.
"Why didn't we just use magic to set it up, then?" he laughed.
Sirius shrugged. "I wanted to do it the way your dad and I used to, but then I remembered that we had troubles when it came to re-packing. I decided that he'd forgive me for using magic now that I'm old enough to." he grinned.
Harry shouldered one of the packs. "Well, shall we get going, then?"
Sirius nodded, getting to his feet and drenching the fire pit with some water from his wand. He took one more look around, smiled, then grabbed the other knapsack and began walking.
Harry hurried to catch up. "Well, that was definitely the most fun I've had all summer."
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
About forty-five minutes of walking and talking later, they were in Harry's neighborhood and reaching the familiar cobblestone road that they lived on. The trip had seemed surprisingly short to Harry.
"It shouldn't take long to convince Remus to help me out—now, KayKay, on the other hand . . ."
"Well, if she doesn't, I don't care anyhow. She'd try to pull something, I'm sure."
"Like what? Dragon dung on your piece of cake?" Sirius laughed. "For some reason, I can't picture her doing something like that."
"You'd be surprised." Harry muttered, glancing down at the road and stepping carefully over a rut. "Jeez! You'd think that in a magical neighborhood, we'd at least keep the streets up to par—"
He looked up again and was surprised to not see Sirius right next to him.
"Sirius?" He asked, turning to look behind him, "Hey, what is it?"
Sirius was looking at something with an expression of confusion on his face, and Harry, puzzled, followed his line of vision.
"That's weird . . ." he commented. They were looking at Remus and KayKay's house (which, contrary to their expectations, showed no signs of activity). The front door was open and hanging slightly crooked, as well as the front gate. Oddest of all, Casey (who usually outside and running up to the fence to greet people, or at least barking wildly inside the house by this point) was nowhere to be seen or heard.
"Let's go see what's up." Sirius said, nudging Harry to follow him. They'd just gone through the gate when Sirius again stopped short, and Harry almost ran into him. Looking around Sirius, Harry's jaw dropped.
There was a thin trail of blood all the way down the sidewalk, and on the front steps was—
"A sword?" Harry said to himself. "But why—"
He looked again. There was blood on the blade.
Glancing at Sirius, he broke into a run, jumping over the sword and stopping short as he entered the house. Sirius was right behind him.
There was an aura of despair and sadness in the room, but everything was silent. Harry's steps on the hard floor sounded far too loud to his ears.
There was movement—was that KayKay?—from the corner near the doorway that connected the living room to the rest of the house. He stepped closer and saw that it was her, glancing over her shoulder, her expression the very essence of woe and tragedy.
She turned back and looked at the floor in front of her, and moving closer, Harry froze, disbelieving.
Remus was lying on the floor, still, cold, and unmoving. Glancing at KayKay as he sunk to his knees beside her, he could tell simply by looking at her face.
It was—no, it was impossible—but it was true, it was right in front of him—
Harry's head was reeling from the shock, and he tried to make sense of it again. How . . .?
"God, no." Sirius breathed, looking down at them. "He can't . . ."
"What happened?" Harry asked softly. KayKay took a rattling breath.
"He . . . it was the middle of the night and Luci—Lucius Malfoy—" Her voice was tired and hoarse, and she sounded as if she was on the verge of tears. "He was here—he tried to take me and—and then Remus woke up and he—and then Malfoy—he—he—oh, Harry!"
She quite unexpectedly flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. Harry looked uncomfortably at her, then at Sirius, who also had tears in his eyes.
"I'm . . . I'm going to get Albus." He said quietly, turning and moving quickly to the front door. Harry watched him disappear, then looked back down at KayKay, who was shaking as she cried.
He glanced briefly at Remus's body, unable to stand looking for more than a moment, then again at KayKay, unsure of what to do.
She needs help . . . but I don't know how—this is such an awkward situation . . .
He struggled with his thoughts, having an internal battle between his old and new reflexes. But then, one of them won out.
Harry slowly wrapped his arms around KayKay, hugging her closer.
What must it have been like? he wondered. Being with someone that you love so much as they die? How would ANYONE be able to cope? I wish there was something I could say that would help . . . but what WOULD you say? "Oh, sorry that you had to watch your uncle die, yeah, that must really be hard."? Certainly not.
He stroked her hair gently, falling into old habits as he did his best to console her, tears escaping his eyes as well.
§ ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤§ ¤ § ¤ §¤ § ¤ §
Harry and KayKay were in Harry's living room, sitting in silence. Only a little more than twelve hours had passed since Remus had died, but to KayKay, it felt like days.
Lying on her stomach on the rug, KayKay picked at the tassels and looked surreptitiously at Harry. He was sitting sideways on the couch, his legs up on the cushions as well, and he was staring at the ceiling as if it puzzled him, looking nearly as forlorn and tired as she felt.
He glanced down, and KayKay quickly turned her gaze back to the rug. She was embarrassed about earlier in the morning when she'd gone into hysterics—but only slightly. And, as mean and rude as Harry had been for months in advance, KayKay was personally touched that he'd set aside their rivalry as he tried to make her feel better—she doubted that she'd ever admit it to anyone, but it had truly helped.
Dumbledore had arrived not long after, pulling the details slowly out of KayKay as Harry and Sirius shed tears with her. After he'd heard the details, he immediately started in to "the important things": Getting an authorized person from the ministry—probably a Mediwitch or something—to take the body away, cleaning the incriminating mess in the room and on the sidewalk, relocating all of KayKay's things to Harry and Sirius's for the time being.
Then, the adults had confined the two teenagers to the living room while they discussed legal issues. They left a tray of sandwiches and some milk on the table for Harry and KayKay, but neither felt up to eating.
So, now they sat quietly, each wrapped up in their own respective thoughts. KayKay wished for a distraction—any distraction—because she was sure that the silence was so loud that she'd soon be deaf.
KayKay accidentally pulled a string out of the rug. Rather than survey it for the damage she'd caused and try to fix it (as she would under normal circumstances), KayKay simply set the string to the side and went back to playing with the tassels.
The radio was playing softly from the other side of the room. The songs seemed too happy, too upbeat, too contented for the gloom that hovered over the house like a great gray storm cloud.
As if sensing—or sharing—KayKay's thoughts, Harry stood up and crossed to the coffee table, turning the radio off with a soft click. She glanced up at him, and he gave her an attempt at a comforting smile—it didn't work.
KayKay looked back down at the rug. Every moment she felt as if she was on the verge of tears, but she had none left to cry. She was depressed, she was worried, and most of all . . . she was exhausted!
It was in the middle of this thought that she found she could hear Sirius and Dumbledore talking in the kitchen, even with the closed door. They must not have put up sound wards.
She got up, set to get to better place to hear, when she noticed Harry with his ear against the wall behind the couch. He saw her and put a finger to his lips, motioning for her to come over.
Cautiously, she did so, kneeling on the couch beside Harry and putting her ear against the wall. She was surprised at the clarity with which she could suddenly hear. (Then, she noticed the wand sticking out of Harry's pocket)
"Now, as for the subject of her guardianship . . ." Dumbledore's voice. KayKay's stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch as she recalled the trouble she'd had to go through the last summer to be adopted by Remus.
"I will, of course . . . if that is allowable." Sirius's voice.
Harry and KayKay both glanced at each other momentarily, then pressed their ears back to the wall.
"Well, Remus did assign you as her guardian should anything happen . . . so, the legal work won't be too fussy, at least not compared to last year's—and guardianship is only required until her eighteenth birthday next summer."
"Of course," Sirius said. "I don't want her to go through another relocation . . . and I certainly don't mind having her join Harry and I here in the slightest."
"Very well, now just sign here . . . and here as well . . . now I sign this as a witness from the Wizengamot . . . there, now I need only get it cleared at the Ministry . . ."
KayKay pulled away, turning around and sitting on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest. Harry didn't take long to follow suit (except he sat normally, not curled into a ball).
"I should've killed Malfoy when I had the chance." She said softly, causing Harry to look at her in surprise. "I was close enough with the sword—I should've just hit him then and there, straight through that wretched black heart of his."
Harry appeared lost for words, and he awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. KayKay looked over at him.
"You know, you're not very good at this reassurance thing. Most people would attempt to disprove my point and say why I shouldn't have. Of course, I don't see any good coming from letting him go, either."
Harry was only silent for a moment. "If you had, that would've placed you at his level. Probably the wisest and most dignified things you could have done was to let him go."
She looked him, surprised at his precocious wisdom. "We're supposed to be seventeen," she commented sadly, "but I feel years older."
"Me too," Harry agreed quietly. "Me too."
He saw her yawn, and stood up to free more couch space.
"Why don't you sleep?" he suggested, taking the blanket draped over a chair and handing it to her. "You'll feel better."
KayKay swallowed a lump in her throat as she recalled saying the same words to Remus right before he died. She shook her head.
"I can't." she whispered, "I'll have dreams of it."
Harry looked at her with—was that sympathy?—and walked out of the room. Only a few short moments later, he returned with a small vial that he handed to KayKay.
"Here, a dreamless sleep potion. It should help."
"Thank you." She said quietly, before uncorking and drinking it all quickly. She fell back against the pillows. The last thing she saw before sleep claimed her was Harry covering her with the blanket.
§ ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤§ ¤ § ¤ §¤ § ¤ §
Harry woke up unusually early—again. It seemed that ever since Remus had died three days earlier and KayKay had moved in, he simply wasn't able to sleep for very long. Perhaps it was a fear of wasting precious hours of life when others weren't so fortunate.
Of course, if he wasn't sleeping well, it was nothing compared to what KayKay seemed to be going through. He found her sleeping and waking at all hours of the day . . . for example, he'd go to the kitchen for lunch and see her sitting at the counter, her head rested against a cookbook. Or perhaps he'd get up at three in the morning for something and see her sitting in the living room with every light on, reading a book and clutching her wand tightly.
That was another thing. She never let her wand out of her sight. Even when she dozed off, she'd still keep a hand on it, as if losing contact with it at any given moment would make Voldemort and all of his Death Eaters swoop down upon her.
Harry shook the sleep from his head and got up, yanking a pair of jeans and a tee shirt on before straightening his glasses and heading downstairs.
As he'd anticipated, KayKay was up already, stirring some sort of junk in a bowl and looking down at a book.
She was cooking again. Sirius had told her the day before, after they'd returned home from Remus's small funeral, that she shouldn't feel an obligation to take care of anyone. He said that she should simply let herself heal and leave him to conjure some sort of meal with his wand (which wasn't as good as real food, but was better than what Sirius called "real food").
But Harry suspected that this was KayKay's own way of healing—distracting herself, occupying her thoughts with "add half a cup of sugar and a teaspoon of vanilla" as opposed to, "and he used to always tell me about when he was growing up with my mum".
"Morning," he said, aware that he sounded anything but cheery.
"Morning." She replied, glancing up only a brief moment before reaching into a cabinet, pulling out some cooking spray, and turning her attention to the muffin trays in front of her.
She'd said a few days ago that she felt years older than seventeen—and she looked it. A week ago, she would have been laughing and grinning often, her eyes would have sparkled with happiness and love for life, and she would have been filled with buoyant energy. Now, she hadn't smiled once, her eyes were tired and haunted, and her shoulders were slumped as if she carried a heavy burden.
Everything she wore was black—her shorts, her tee shirt, even the tie around her ponytail.
He pulled two glasses out of the cupboard and then went to the refrigerator. As he pulled out the juice, he looked at her again. She was spooning batter into the cups of the muffin pans. She looked so tired—so weak!
Yet still, beautiful. The thought sprung up so uncharacteristically that Harry dropped the pitcher of juice he was holding (if it were physically possible, he would have stared at himself incredulously). The top snapped off of the plastic container, sending orange juice splashing on both of their legs and feet, as well as all over the floor.
Ah, he didn't need to worry about staring at himself in disbelief, KayKay was doing it for him.
"What . . . oh, nevermind," she said, waving her wand at the mess. The juice flew into the sink, and the pitcher hopped onto the counter. Harry blinked, still wondering where his thoughts had jumped out from and why they did so.
"Will you make some more?" KayKay asked simply as she opened up the oven and put the first pan in.
"Yeah." Harry said, opening the refrigerator again and grabbing a can of concentrate. He shook his head at himself.
That was weird . . . he thought as he poured the can into a clean pitcher and added water.
As he poured the glasses of juice, KayKay finished up with the muffin batter and put the bowl in the sink, turning on the hot water and adding some dish soap.
Harry was suddenly struck with the memory of a nearly identical image: a woman standing at the sink as a gentle breeze came through the window and made the curtains billow and the pots clank.
"Not now, but soon, she's going to need help."
The words floated through his mind as clearly as if Jenna was sitting right next to him—but he didn't understand why, it was too late to do anything about what had happened . . .
He looked up quickly as he heard a sniff from the sink—KayKay sounded as if she was crying again—but getting a glimpse of her face as she turned to put something away, he saw that she clearly wasn't, although she did look like she might.
But help doesn't have to be heroic . . . maybe what Jenna meant is that she'll need to be able to talk to someone and have them listen. A year ago, that would have been no problem—we liked each other then. But now we hate each other.
Then Harry had to wonder—did they? Sure, they had gone their separate ways in the spring and not gotten along after that—but would they have perhaps gotten along, even been friends if he hadn't been constantly trying to shove her away?
And then he had to wonder why he even did in the first place. Well, he didn't doubt that they couldn't have continued dating; they argued too often and disagreed too much to even enjoy each other's company. But why did he think it was a necessity to put her through so much even after she'd made it clear that she didn't still think of him romantically?
Well, of course, she isn't nice to me either . . . But he suddenly realized that when she was rude or mean to him, it was only after he'd started something. The things she started were just part of her personality that he'd known for almost two years: lighthearted insults, innocent accidents, and little acts of retaliation. At one point, he liked all of those qualities.
So what had happened, aside from them stepping away from a romantic relationship? Nothing really, except for him becoming someone he never had wanted to be . . . critical, rude, and cruel.
Harry cleared his throat slightly and began cautiously. "KayKay?"
"Yes?" she asked, rinsing off a measuring cup and drying it with a towel.
"Where do you think we went wrong?"
"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about." She responded, tossing a handful of dirty silverware into the sink and starting to clean them off.
"I mean,"—he briefly wondered what on earth he was doing—"you and I. Where you think we went wrong."
KayKay's scrubbing stopped for just a second, and her ponytail shook slightly as if she was trying to clear her head. "Well, this is just a guess, but I'd have to say that it was when you started criticizing me instead of caring."
Her voice had become detached, closed, and it carried with it obvious sarcasm.
"Well . . . I mean . . . I know that, but I meant why we always argue with each other when we both know that we're able to get along. After all, at one point in time, we never fought because we didn't feel like we had to . . ."
"Again, I'd have to say that it was you." She said, rinsing off a handful of silverware and setting them on a towel next to the sink to dry. She wrung out the dishrag and began to wipe off the counter.
Harry felt like he was repeatedly walking into a brick wall . . . he'd have to try to rephrase what he was saying.
"Well . . ." he said again, "I'm just . . . I'm—well, I'm sorry. I guess that I was thinking—er, hoping—that you and I could . . . well . . . that we could try again—"
"Damn it, Potter, I don't want your charity!" KayKay yelled quite suddenly, flinging the rag into the sink and clutching the edge of the counter, her back to him.
Harry felt as if he'd been slapped. He'd never even paused to consider how what he was saying must have sounded to KayKay, who hadn't thought through things the same way he had.
"No—KayKay it's not—I never meant—" he slid off of his stool quickly and circled around the counter, putting his hands on her shoulders from behind her. She shifted beneath the touch, as if trying to shake his hands off, but he didn't move.
"I know what I must sound like, but really I've been thinking a lot, and—"
The sound of someone coming through the kitchen door made both of them look over quickly.
Matt was standing there, looking out of breath and as if he'd dressed in thirty seconds. He was clutching a newspaper in his hand, and he was looking at KayKay, stricken.
"I heard." He said quietly, breaking the silence. It were those two words that pushed Harry and KayKay back into motion, and she pushed away from the sink, dashing to Matt who caught her in his open arms as she broke into tears on his shoulder. The newspaper fluttered to the floor, and the page on top was headed "OBITUARIES".
Looking at the pair, Harry felt backwards and upside-down. Never before had he witnessed somebody else comforting KayKay as he'd used to, and watching it, Harry couldn't tell if it made him jealous or if it just confused him.
Either way, he couldn't help feeling strange as she clung to Matt, crying and as he hugged her, whispering into her ear with an expression of tenderness on his face. That was Harry. That used to be what he did.
But then, what had he been expecting from KayKay, after all that he'd done?
§ ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤§ ¤ § ¤ §¤ § ¤ §
"Here, why don't we go outside?" Matt asked gently, putting an arm around KayKay and leading her out of the kitchen. She just nodded and walked with, not looking once over her shoulder.
Honestly! That Harry Potter . . . who did he think he was, anyway? Suddenly acting innocent and nice and caring because he pitied her . . . well, who asked him?
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," Matt said as he pushed open the screen door to the backyard. "I would've if I'd known."
KayKay sniffed and wiped at her nose. "It's okay."
"No, it's not." Matt said sadly. "I should've been here for you. I told you I always would be . . ."
"Well, you're here now. That's what counts, right?" she asked as they sat down on the ground underneath a willow tree.
"But still, I should've been here sooner." Matt insisted again as KayKay leaned against his shoulder sadly. From somewhere out of his pocket, he produced a tissue, which she took gratefully, dabbing at her eyes.
"I didn't know that no one told you." KayKay said after a long period of silence.
"Well, who would have told?" he said practically. "Dumbledore doesn't know that you and I are any closer than friends at the most, Sirius has been busy I expect, as well as distraught over it too . . . and Harry, even if he did think to tell me, probably wouldn't."
KayKay looked up at him, confused, and he clarified. "I get the feeling that he doesn't like me very much."
"You're probably right." KayKay sighed. "And I didn't even think to get in touch with you using that journal. Actually, I haven't been thinking of much lately, except mumbo jumbo about cooking and about Remus . . ." he voice broke and she clapped a hand to her mouth, trying to force her remaining tears away. Matt pulled her a bit closer and kissed the top of her head, managing to be strangely reassuring in the process.
"I can't say anything that will make the pain go away." He said softly. "I know that right now you feel like you'll never be whole again, but you'll see. Every morning it will hurt, but every morning the hurt will become smaller and smaller, until you're bigger than it is."
She looked at him, and was even able to manage a weak smile. "I wish you were closer," she said, "I always feel better when I talk to you, no matter what it's about. Other people try to skate around the truth and avoid the subject, as if it will help any."
"Well then, if that's how you feel, then I suppose it's a good thing I'll be moving here in a few weeks."
KayKay felt a jolt of surprise that came as suddenly as an electric shock. Thoughts tumbled around her head but the first that came out (and that she wished she could take back) was, "Oh, not you too!"
Matt looked her in slightly insulted confusion. "Well I'm sorry, I'll check with you next time."
"No! No, I mean . . . sorry, I didn't mean to say that . . . it's just that earlier, inside, Harry began acting all . . . charitable. Like he pitied me. And, well, I thought . . ." she trailed off.
"You thought that was all I was doing too?" he asked. KayKay nodded and he sighed.
"Well, I won't lie, you played a role in my decision. But even if it weren't for that, I'd still move. I'm going into law, and with a less than gleaming recommendation from O'Connor . . ."
"Our old Headmistress from Escondito?"
"Yeah, that's the one. After all, how many O'Connor's do we know? Anyway, it seems she's still a bit mad about losing that custody case against you, and I haven't the faintest idea why she wanted you in an orphanage . . ." KayKay rolled her eyes. "Well, anyhow, without an excellent recommendation from her, finding a place in a good school of law is a bit difficult. However, over here there are a lot more options, and Dumbledore doesn't have a grudge against me, so he wrote a recommendation and I'll be starting with your ministry in the fall. I'll probably just get an apartment in London."
"Ah, and it all makes sense now." KayKay said, nodding slowly.
"Yes, it all makes sense now." Matt grinned. "Although, being near you is incentive enough to move across the globe . . ."
"Oh, stop trying to flirt with me."
"Who says I'm flirting? Or rather, who says it's just flirting? I'm also stating a well-known fact that I'm sure more than one person would agree with me on." He smiled and kissed her.
It actually helped her a great deal more than one would expect something so simple to. Something as simple as a kiss could heal quicker than words alone, if gentle and caring enough.
Neither of them noticed the face at the kitchen window.
§ ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤§ ¤ § ¤ §¤ § ¤ §
Harry pushed aside the curtain at the kitchen window and glanced outside. The sight that greeted him made him feel even stranger than the hug had, and the worst part was that he still wasn't completely sure why. He absolutely didn't think anything of KayKay anymore . . . so why did he feel a twinge of annoyance?
He was brought back to himself as he smelled something burning. Turning quickly and letting the curtain fall back into place, he saw smoke creeping out from the edges of the oven door.
"Aurgh!"
He ran to the oven, turned it off, then opened the door. A large plume of smoke billowed out and into his face, making him cough uncontrollably as his eyes watered. He grabbed a towel and began waving the smoke away frantically.
"And number one on the best-stressed list is . . . you." Sirius said, coming in.
"Enter the Godfather who wouldn't even know to turn the oven off." Harry said sarcastically, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses.
"And exit the Godson who forgot he was a wizard." Sirius replied, pushing Harry aside and shooting water out of his wand towards the interior of the oven.
"Oh . . . yeah. Forgot." Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Seriously, if you're not going to leave the cooking to me, at least hand the job over to KayKay." Sirius sounded cheerful, but he looked tired and his eyes were regaining the haunted look they'd held in Azkaban.
"That was KayKay's work." Harry said, using an oven mitt and pulling the soggy, blackened muffins out of the oven.
"What happened?" Sirius asked, apparently not believing him.
"Oh, someone dropped in for a visit." Harry said coldly, prying the muffins out one by one and tossing them into the garbage. Sirius only looked at him strangely.
"Who—" he was interrupted by the arrival of Matt and KayKay. Harry looked quickly, and found a strange satisfaction in the fact that they were merely standing side by side, not holding hands or anything.
What's wrong with me?! he thought incredulously. I swear that I'm going insane . . .
"Morning, Sirius." KayKay said. Well, she sounded a bit more upbeat than she had earlier, but still, she wasn't smiling either . . .
"Good morning KayKay, Matt." He replied nodding at both of them in turn. "Do you plan to stay long, Matt?"
"No, I was just leaving." He replied. He looked at KayKay and slipped his hand into hers. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."
"It's not your fault. Thank you." She said, giving his hand a squeeze. "Goodbye."
"Bye," he replied, "I'll see you before too long, okay?"
"Okay." She nodded. He smiled, then turned and left the room. All three people still in the kitchen listened as his footsteps faded out down the hall towards the front door.
It was then that KayKay noticed the pan in Harry's hand. "My muffins! What did you do?"
"What did I do?" he repeated, "You're the one who just left them here!"
"Don't tell me you didn't hear the timer!" she said in disbelief.
"I—" Harry stopped. What was the point of arguing? It was only muffins, after all, and it was such a stupid thing to argue about. "No, I didn't. Sorry."
KayKay blinked in surprise, taking a moment to find her voice. "It—well—oh, don't worry about it. We have cereal, after all." She stammered, looking extremely confused.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Sirius looking between him and KayKay, a knowing look in his eyes. He cleared his throat finally, and said, "Harry, you may want to take a shower. That is, unless you like the chimneysweep look."
Harry glanced at his reflection in the microwave door and saw that Sirius was right—he was a mess.
"Yeah, probably a good idea." He agreed, setting the muffin pans in the remaining dishwater.
"I think I'll go sleep." KayKay said, stifling a yawn. "I'm sorry to leave you alone, Sirius . . ."
"It's okay. I know what it's like." He told her quietly. She nodded, and left the room. Harry followed in silence. When they reached the top of the stairs, KayKay went up the magical ladder to her "bedroom", and Harry disappeared into the bathroom.
As he twisted the knobs to get hot water from the faucet, Harry glanced at himself in the mirror. Soot and all, he saw he looked almost as bad off as Sirius and KayKay—he hadn't realized he'd been sleeping do restlessly. But his eyes were red from tiredness, and he wouldn't deny that there was absolutely no sign of happiness coming from him.
He sighed. Maybe he should take a nap, too.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
Harry looked blearily at his clock. It had only been about ten o'clock when he'd gone to sleep, and now it announced twelve-thirty.
Sitting up and groping for his glasses in the dark, he had them halfway on when he realized . . .
. . . It shouldn't be dark at half-past noon.
Looking closer at the clock now that he had his glasses on, he noticed the little "AM" icon in the bottom corner lit up.
How on earth did I sleep for fourteen hours? he wondered, standing up. Well, on a positive note, he felt wide-awake and well rested now.
His stomach grumbled loudly. Deciding to get something to eat—who knew, maybe there were still some cookies left—Harry opened his door quietly and padded down the dimly lit hallway.
Reaching the kitchen a few moments later, he opened a cupboard and quickly located the cookies, pulling out three (and then, after some consideration, a fourth).
He was about to sit down at the counter when he thought he heard something—the radio, perhaps. Setting down the cookies and moving closer to the sound, Harry found himself led towards the pool.
KayKay was sitting at the edge, swinging her legs back and forth slowly in the water, staring up at the stars through the transparent ceiling and singing quietly. Harry stopped, leaning against the doorframe, to listen.
". . . . Everything's waiting up ahead,
Nothing's behind me.
If I don't dream, if I don't try,
How will I know how far I'll fly?"
He'd forgotten how she sounded when she sang . . . .of course, he hadn't heard her sing in the longest time—not since last Christmas—and she actually did sound quite nice . . . in the case of this song, almost haunting.
Not feeling comfortable watching her when she wasn't aware, Harry walked in, his footsteps making her stop with a small jump. She turned around quickly, but relaxed when she saw who it was. The wand in her hand was placed slowly back on the ground.
"Hey." He said quietly, sitting down near her.
"Hi." She said shortly, looking back up at the stars. The tone of her voice didn't leave much allowance for conversation, but Harry took a chance anyhow.
"I'm . . . ah . . . I'm sorry about this morning. I was wondering if you'd let me talk about it a bit."
She glanced down at him, a cynical expression on her face. "You can only talk about burnt muffins for so long, Harry. I thought even you knew that."
"I—" he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "I actually meant before that. When you accused me of simply being charitable."
"Well, I'm sorry about that. It's not your fault that you feel moved by pity to try to humor me." She paused, then added, "Of course, it's not my fault either. So whose fault is it?"
"Nobody's" Harry began.
"Who's Nobody? Is that what you call one of the voices inside your head?"
"No—"
"Or one of your apparitions?"
"No!" Harry shouted. He paused to take a deep breath and calm down. "What I mean is, it wasn't charity."
"Right. It wasn't charity . . ." she leaned over the pool and ran her fingers through it, "just like this isn't water."
She pulled her hand out and flicked some water droplets at Harry's face.
"Please, will you give me just five minutes?" he asked, pulling his glasses off and drying them on the hem of his shirt. "This is serious."
She sighed in resignation. "Fine. Go ahead."
"Thanks" he said, relieved. "I should probably start at the beginning . . ."
"Probably."
"Well, on my birthday—well, actually, the night before my birthday—I talked to your mum, see, and she said—"
"Oh, right, twist the knife a bit more!" KayKay exclaimed, standing up quickly. "First my uncle, then my mom . . . I should've known that you were just playing around and trying to make me miserable, again . . ."
She began to walk away, but Harry was to his feet in a flash and caught her by the arm.
"You're not the only one who was affected by Remus's death! Stop acting like you are! He was like an uncle to me too, I've known him since my Third Year . . . he's always been there for me, always been my friend—and what about Sirius? Remus was one of his best mates, his only friend left!"
KayKay was looking at him with an expression he couldn't place. He continued. "First my dad died because Wormtail was a traitor, then Sirius was shipped away to Azkaban . . . just when he thought he was perhaps getting back to a normal life, Remus was killed! Stop acting like you're above us, that your tale is more tragic than ours—sure, you were with him when it happened, but you didn't even know him until two years ago!"
Harry was aware that he was crying, and he hastily let go of her arm and wiped his face with the back of his hand.
"Forget it" he said quietly. "Just forget it. I knew you wouldn't listen to me anyhow." He turned away from her and sat back down at the pool's edge. However, her footsteps didn't retreat—they came closer, and then quite suddenly, there she was, sitting in her place again and dangling her legs, as if nothing had ever happened. The only evidence to the contrary were the tears on both their faces.
"I'm sorry." KayKay whispered. "You're right. Go ahead—I'll listen this time."
Harry nodded, wiped his eyes once more, and continued.
"Your mum was in my dream—I'd had the dream before, on my sixteenth birthday—but this time I actually talked to her."
"Her name was Jenna?" KayKay asked softly. Harry looked at her and nodded.
"That's what she said. She had long hair and was tall—compared to a lot of women, I mean—I swear, you look so much like her."
He was slightly surprised as KayKay's face broke into a flattered smile.
"Oh, and you were there, too" Harry continued. "Except you were really young . . ." he shook the stray thoughts from his head. "But your mum said—what were her exact words? 'Not now, but soon, she'll need help.' And then, you woke me up."
"Oh . . . Oh!" KayKay said, here eyes widening. "I thought I just heard you wrong when you said something about her . . ."
Harry nodded. "But then—I mean, I was thinking this morning while you were cooking—why do we hate each other so much? I mean yes, I know it's mostly my fault . . . but I wondered why. We've proved that we can get along, when we're not suspicious of each other . . . and the thing that drove us so far apart was me being someone I never meant to be."
KayKay was still listening—sure, she had a look on her face that wasn't quite as positive as he would've hoped—but at least she hadn't walked away yet.
"Yet" being the operative word.
"So what I'm trying to say—what I said this morning—I'm sorry for everything I've put you through since I broke up with you. In fact—I'm sorry for breaking up with you period. I was . . . well, really harsh when I did . . ."
That look on KayKay's face was increasing—that closed-off, suspicious look. However, Harry didn't notice.
"And I mean, I was wondering if we could try again, you know, at being—"
Before he could finish the sentence ("—friends."), KayKay stood up abruptly.
"Harold James Potter,"—Uhoh. The full name. Not a good sign—"you can't just expect to waltz back into my life as if you've done nothing wrong and as if nothing ever happened! I've spent too much time, worked too hard trying to forget about it."
Harry stood slowly, feeling pained. "KayKay . . ."
"No! Stop acting like you care and that you're sorry! Things are fine the way they are, they're just fine!" She turned and started away, but Harry caught her by the hand.
"You don't understand—"
"Oh yes I do, Harold James Potter!" she quipped, trying to pull away.
"Will you stop with the full name thing?" he exclaimed, maintaining his grip. "Just listen—"
"No!" she shouted, yanking her arm away. Unprepared, Harry stumbled backwards. He grabbed at KayKay's wrist in an attempt to stabilize himself, but it didn't work . . .
They both ended up in the pool.
"Potter!" KayKay shrieked, sputtering when she came up.
"Sorry." He said sheepishly. However, he couldn't resist grinning. KayKay scowled.
"You're hopeless." She said in disgust, swimming towards the edge of the pool. Harry caught her arm again.
"Will you just listen? I was only going to say that I wanted us to try again, this time being friends, something I'm sure we're both capable of doing. I'll stop being a jerk in a stupid attempt to shove you away, and you can stop being so suspicious of my every word." He noticed KayKay hadn't struggled to get away and that she was simply looking at him, treading water as she listened. It took this as a good sign. "Deal?"
He held out his hand, and KayKay looked at it as if she were afraid he was up to something. However, after a long pause, she shook it.
"Deal" she agreed. "And friends can still have fights, right?"
Harry was a bit confused. "Well, yes . . . but the general idea is to get along—" he stopped suddenly as a splash of water hit him right in the face.
"There's a big difference between an argument and a fight." KayKay laughed. Harry splashed her back, and she sprung towards him, shoving him underwater. When he resurfaced, she was climbing out at the edge of the pool, her pajama pants and her white tee shirt dripping and clinging to her body.
He swam over and put his arms around her from behind, yanking her back in.
He was so close . . .
. . . And yet, so far.
§ ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤§ ¤ § ¤ §¤ § ¤ §
Tell me what I have to do tonight,
'Cause I'd do anything to make it right.
Let's be us again.
I'm sorry for the way I lost my head,
I don't know why I said the things I said.
Let's be us again.
Here I stand
With everything to lose,
And all I know is I don't want to ever see the end.
Baby please, I'm reaching out for you.
Won't you open up your heart and let me come back in?
Let's be us again.
Look at me, I'm way past pride,
Isn't there some way that we can try
To be us again?
Even if it takes a while,
I'll wait right here until I see that smile
That says we're us again.
Here I stand
With everything to lose,
And all I know is I don't want to ever see the end.
Baby please, I'm reaching out for you.
Won't you open up your heart and let me come back in?
Let's be us again.
Baby, baby what would I do?
I can't imagine life without you.
Here I stand
With everything to lose,
And all I know is I don't want to ever see the end.
Baby please, I'm reaching out for you.
Won't you open up your heart and let me come back in?
Oh, here I am.
I'm reaching out for you,
So won't you open up your heart and let me come back in?
Let's be us again.
Wow! Two things: One, that chapter was up WAY faster than I'd expected it to be . . . and two, I'll probably take half and hour responding to reviews! (I'm such a rambler . . .) Eep!
Lady Alex (aka Alex and Ellie), thank you for not killing me! (Or torturing me, come to think of it). Your alter-ego may get a bit snappish, but you're both great!
Joeyperson—heehee—thank you for giving me permission to use your word, and I tried to get this chapter out fast!
Icy: My goodness, Icy, what can I say?! You're the one who's been with me the longest on my stories, you're always gotten my big, mushy thank-you's at the end . . . then you turned around and surprised me by giving me one! You're the best reader ever, Icy—and don't ever change your fun, optomistic ways!
Kelli, thank you for your glowing review! I know I've said this before, but when I get online and check my e-mails, just to see that I got an update . . . THAT cheers me up already. Then I open them and sometimes it's such a nice one by somebody who seems totally wowed . . . totally warms my heart. That's why I do what I do—I mean, not for the review part, but in the hopes that I can maybe do something I enjoy and have someone else enjoy it as well . . . oh dear, I'm getting all sentimental already and we aren't even into the school year! Oh, and thank you also for getting so many people interested in this! I went onto Kat's thread and my eyes just kinda' popped out of my head . . . okay, now I'm rambling. I have to stop doing that!
And last (but CERTAINLY not least), Laura! Thank you for review and for the fun flavor that you add to the WB boards! You're great!
You're ALL great!!!
Oh, and a thank you to Lonestar for the song (Which is one of my absolute FAVORITES and seemed to fit the chapter perfectly.)
