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Beware, the third chapter, the one in which two tortured soul finally unite! But of course things won't go easy on them... And beware, this is an un-beta-ed version... so please be tolerant of grammatical mistakes and such.
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Chapter 3 A Dog at the Doorstep
Harry didn't remember how he had gotten back to his little bedroom in 4, Privet Drive. One thing he knew, he was being carried by Lupin, the next thing, he was lying on his bed, his whole body seemed to have made of lead. Vaguely, he remembered his soaked clothes and body becoming dry and warm. Someone had tilted his head and fed him sips of liquid. Harry couldn't remember whether the liquid tasted bitter or not, nor did he even remember his head ever hitting the pillow.
The first thing Harry felt as he rose from the world of unconsciousness was the irritating sunlight that burnt his eyelids. He opened his eyes, then immediately covered them with his hand to block out the offending rays. He groaned and shifted uneasily on the sheet on the bed, his body aching all over. His voice was hoarse and his throat felt itchily dry.
"Harry?" Someone said softly. Harry jumped a little at the voice, squinted his eyes and found a blurry figure sitting just besides his bed.
"Here." The blurry figure handed Harry his thick-rimmed glasses. Harry hastily put them on. He supported his upper body up with his wobbly arms until he got to a sitting position. What greeted him was the sight of Remus Lupin as shabby, if not more, as ever. His eyes had dark circles below them and his muggle clothes hung loosely on his thin frame. Under Harry's scrutiny, Lupin ran his hand over his disheveled light brown hair and stuffed a yawn.
"Goo- Good morning. Slept well? " Asked Lupin. Guilt rose inside Harry.
"Yeah, I suppose," Harry replied. Yes, he had miraculously slept well. But anyone could tell that Lupin had not. He must have stayed up all night to watch over Harry. Harry wondered why Remus would still put up with him after all the false and cruel accusations Harry had thrown at him last night.
"That's good. You have Madam Pomfrey to thank that for, actually. She provided the strengthening and dreamless potion I fed you last night. You probably don't remember me saying so to you, do you? "
"No. I was . . . pretty out of it," Harry couldn't suppress the remorse at blowing up at Lupin's face. Harry bit his lips for a moment, and said, "I am sorry about last night." Harry didn't quite dare to meet Lupin's eyes, for he knew he would find forgiveness he didn't deserve within the depths of those light brown eyes.
. "Sor- " Lupin stuffed another yawn, "- Sorry? No, please don't be. I understand how you felt and, honestly, I have also been insensitive last night. "
. Harry couldn't help but fix Lupin with a disbelieving gaze. Lupin smiled sadly in return. "Being in close proximity of three of the thickest guys in the world for more than ten years can do that to you, you know."
. Harry continued to stare a bit incredulously at Lupin, and was at a complete loss of words. Three of the thickest guys in the world . . . that must be referring to his dad, who died fifteen years ago, the traitor, who betrayed all fifteen years ago, and, his godfather, who . . .
. Yes! This would be what Harry could do to make up for his rudeness last night . . . No. This was what Remus Lupin deserved to know – that Sirius was not truly gone! Lupin was the only one who could possibly understand how Harry felt now. Lupin was the only one in the whole world who wouldn't think Harry as insane when Harry told him Sirius was indeed alive!
. "Harry? " Lupin voice prompted Harry for response. Harry realized that he had perhaps blanked out for too long, and choked out, "Professor Lupin-"
. "I prefer to be called 'Remus' when we are out of school – that is if you don't mind."
. "Ok, prof- no, Remus, I need to tell you something." Harry blurted. He felt bursting with the urge to share his secret and his hope with someone. He feared that if he didn't let it out, soon the memory of the encounter would fade and diminish, until one day he couldn't even convince himself that the encounter wasn't only just his imagination or hallucination. Remus kept staring at him with a curious demeanor with an underlying tone of sadness, silently encouraging Harry to continue.
"Last night, when I was on the street, I, " Harry didn't know what would be the best way to approach the topic, and a lump seemed to rise to his throat, making it hard to utter a coherent sentence. "I- I saw, no, I felt . . . No, I saw - " Harry could see one of Remus' hands jerk, as if trying to grab something, but it merely traveled from his own thigh to his knee and stayed there. Harry felt he really ought to tell Remus this – he deserved to know the truth more than anyone else! For one of his dad's best friends, Harry had to do this no matter how hard it was.
Harry took in a deep breath, "Last night, when I was running down the street, I felt I was stalked by something, and I was quite certain that the presence was familiar, as if I have been stalked by the same presence before, " Harry's voice was shaking slightly. Remus gripped his own knees with increasing force until his knuckles turned white. "And?" Asked Remus.
"It was – it was – " The moment when Harry and his godfather locked gaze was so vivid in Harry's mind. Although the distance between them had been large, Harry could still remember the gaze Sirius, or rather Padfoot had given him, and the shake of his hairy head. A thought stabbed at Harry before he could blurt out the name of his godfather. Why had Sirius withdrawn from him? It was when Remus called him from behind. And what did the shake of his head indicate? He was trying to convey something – something important – to Harry. What if Sirius didn't want Remus to know his presence?
"Harry? Are you ok?"
"It was a Death Eater," said Harry, his shoulders slumping downwards.
"Really?" Harry noticed the almost undetectable note of disappointment in Remus' voice – or was that only Harry's imagination? Remus continued after a short pause, "I figure as much. Well, I nearly had a heart attack after you ran out like that. "
Harry tried his best to give Remus a sheepish grin, but he was quite sure that it looked more like a grimace than a grin.
"I am not blaming you or anything, but you know it is not safe for you to run around like that. I am aware of the fact that you are capable of looking after yourself, of course, " Remus added a little hastily, "but I am sure you get the general idea. Anyway, you must feel hungry right now. May be you can wash up and I'll ask your aunt what she's got for breakfast. Then we can talk about what happened last night and perhaps . . . anything else you might want to after breakfast, all right?"
Harry nodded and got off his bed. His eyes swept across the room and spot the empty cage on his desk. It was like suddenly suffering from a severe blow to his head. "Hedwig! My god! Remus!" Harry turned to Remus abruptly and grabbed his arm with both hands. "Hedwig was hurt! Did you see her? She is not dead, is she? Did you – did you find her -" Harry uttered urgently. Remus covered Harry's hands on his arm with his other hand to calm him.
"Easy, Harry. I found her last night and she wasn't dead. She is in good hands now."
"Was she badly hurt? Where is she?"
"Don't worry. She has just got a few scratches. Nothing Hagrid can't heal. I will give you the details later, ok?" Remus squeezed Harry's shaking hands reassuringly before letting go. Harry nodded and tried to steady himself.
After Harry finished using the bathroom and returned to his bedroom, Remus was already waiting there with a plate of toasts and a glass of orange juice. Harry's stomach gave a lurch at the sight of food. It had been like weeks since Harry had felt properly hungry. Then Harry sat on his own bed to savor his breakfast. Remus remained seated on the sole chair in the room and also nipped on a piece of toast, his eyes not leaving Harry for a moment.
After Harry swallowed the last mouthful of orange juice, Remus finally broke the relative silence. "Harry, now I need you to tell me what happened last night in details so that I can report them to Dumbledore later. I have already informed Dumbledore about the incident last night, and both of us were concerned about the fact that Death Eaters cornered you at a place so close to 4 Privet Drive. We are still trying to interpret the motivation behind this attack."
"Motivation? As if there are reasons other than Voldemort wanting to murder me." Harry muttered to himself.
"Well, it may not be what it appears to be. We should not draw our conclusion until we have all the facts. So, begin your side of the incident, will you?"
Harry nodded. And he began from the moment he stormed out of 4 Privet Drive. Then he briefly described how he realized three Death Eaters were stalking him, how they had attacked him and how Hedwig had helped Harry to identify their position in the dark. Harry very conveniently forgot to mention the involvement of the large black dog, and his recount ended with his strength all spent and Remus turning up.
"So, what happened next?" Harry asked.
"When I reached the street and shouted your name, what I saw was two Death Eaters lifting another one off the ground and apparating out of the area. I found you unconscious on the ground and carried you back here. On the way back I found Hedwig lying unconscious on the ground about ten meters away from you and it looked like she was scared by some curses and blown off course by wind. I took you both back and returned to the Headquarter to report the incident and sent Hedwig to Hagrid. I returned here before dawn. "
And then you watched over me all night, added Harry to himself.
"Before I forgot, professor Dumbledore has asked me to tell you that you are allowed to use magic over this holiday under the condition that you wouldn't misuse it. The Ministry cannot detect you using magic as Dumbledore has pulled a few strings and kept their taps off you. " Harry merely uttered an "oh". They then lapsed into momentary silence. There was so much Harry longed to tell Remus, but he didn't know if he should really talk of the presence last night aloud to anybody. Remus looked apprehensive for a moment as if struggling against something inwardly, but finally spoke. "I was quite relieved to not have seen Molly last night when I contacted Professor Dumbledore at the Headquarter. I am sure she would have had a heart attack if she heard of this. "
"How are the Weasleys and Hermione doing?" Harry asked only half-heartedly. He knew he was being selfish, but he had been incapable of caring about anything until last night. Nevertheless, Harry was keen to keep conservation towards that way.
"They are doing . . . quite fine," said Remus, his eyes flickered to the window for a moment to steal a glance at the passing sparrow, "Actually, Molly has been asking about you for a while now. To say that she is very worried would be an understatement. She wondered why you haven't returned the letters sent by Ron and Hermione these two weeks. "
Harry had not even bothered to let the owls delivering the letters Remus had been referring to into his bedroom. Guilt stabbed at Harry once again. "Well, I didn't feel very well back then. Could you apologize to them for me and tell them I feel better now? "
"They would prefer to hear from you personally, I am sure you know. Why don't you write them back yourself?"
Harry averted his eyes to avoid Remus' searching gaze. He was not ready to face his two best friends, not when there was still so much on his mind. Very soon, he could feel Remus dropped his inquiring gaze. "Ok, I will pass your words on to them."
Their conversation went on for about twenty minutes. Again Harry half- heartedly asked about things he knew he should care about, such as what the Ministry was doing, what Voldemort and his followers were doing, what the Order was doing, etc. As if sensing Harry's true intention beyond the questions – to keep the conversation going – Remus gave only very brief or vague answers such as "they are preparing", "We are working against his plans" or "They are plotting to attack soon". Unsurprisingly, Harry wasn't in the least bit agitated by such meaningless answers.
Harry could no longer conjure up topics of conversation that would be safe to discuss. "Remus, you must be very busy with your work for the Order, right? I am sorry to have occupied so much of your time. "
"Not at all, Harry. Nothing is more important than your well-being. "
"No matter what, I am really sorry. I feel better now; you really don't have to stay here. I swear I will eat, so don't worry. "
"You promise you will eat and look after yourself?"
"Of course I will. No one in his or her right mind would want to face the wrath of a werewolf. Or that of one's best friend's over-protective mother, especially not when she was threatening to force food down one's throat."
Remus grinned lightly as he rose from his chair. He clasped Harry's shoulder and said, "rest well and take care. "
Harry nodded.
"Don't hesitate to call us if you need anything, even if you just want a word with any of us."
Harry nodded again.
Remus had proceeded to the bedroom door and had his hand on the doorknob. "I will keep harassing professor Dumbledore until he allows you to come and stay at the Headquarter."
Harry didn't know whether he should thank Remus or not.
"And do remember," Remus muttered before he closed the door and shut himself out of the room, "You are not alone."
Harry stared idly at the plate of food lying on the dinner table before him. He had no idea what drove him to do it, but when Aunt Petunia knocked on his door and asked him to join them at dinner, Harry had opened the door and entered the kitchen, on which he hadn't set foot since last summer. Awaiting him were three members of the Dursleys, all carrying a complicated expression of wordless incredibility and relief on their face. They must be quite surprised to see Harry's face after such a long absence to forget putting up their usual expression of revolt and disgust upon seeing their abnormal relative.
Harry poked the boiled potato on his plate around with his fork. He felt full after only a few mouthful of food, and continued his string of thought before Aunt Petunia had interrupted him. He was not conscious to the nervous atmosphere around the table, nor was he aware of the fact that Dudley had slipped and dropped his fork onto the floor for the fourth time since the start of the meal. He stared unseeingly at the luminous screen of the television, his mind again contemplating the meaning of last night's encounter. Harry told himself over and over again that it was no hallucination. He could still recall the feeling of the sharp gaze of his pale blue eyes upon his body. He could still remember its hot breath on his hand as he reached out and tried to touch it. He was sure the shabby black dog that saved him last night was the animagus form of his godfather, Sirius Black. Harry could have recognized him anywhere. But how did he survive? How could he have survived when everyone, including Dumbledore, was telling Harry that he was gone?
It is not like he is doing the impossible for the first time, though, said a hopeful voice within Harry. He had escaped Azkaban with no help. No one had done that before, right?
But it would not be the first time the enemy tried to feed you false information or false hope, snapped the mean voice at the back of Harry's mind. Yes, there was always the possibility that they were trying to lure him into danger or even death by imposing his godfather. Wormtail would know how Sirius' animagus form look exactly like. If Voldemort really wanted to finish him off, he would know better than to send only three Death Eaters after him. However, if his purpose were to gain Harry's trust and then use it against Harry or anyone else in the Order, it would make sense to send a few Death Eaters to pose an attack and let the dog 'save' him.
Harry's mind was torn between his deepest desire to see Sirius alive and his worry that he would endanger the others by trusting lightly. He was frustrated at Sirius – if it really were him, why did he wait for two weeks and let Harry's heart bled to half death before turning up? Why did he turn away from him even after revealing himself? What was he trying to hide from Remus perhaps?
Harry's attention was not roused by Uncle Vernon's loud curse when he slipped hot soup onto his own lap, nor had it wavered as the lightning bolt scar on his forehead ached painfully and his inside twitched irritably due to a happiness that was not his. But it turned from its tangled thoughts and focused as a twig outside the window on the garden ground was snapped by something. Even the thick brick wall of the house failed to dampen the gaze of the presence just outside the window and the feeling sent something skin to an electric shock up Harry's spine.
Harry dropped his fork and it collided with the china plate with an audible clunk. At the same time, he stood up abruptly so that the chair fell and crushed against the floor. Oblivious to the horrified stare the three Dursleys threw him, Harry made his way towards the front door, his breathed ragged, his thought jammed. His heart was beating violently against his ribs as he shakily laid his hand on the doorknob of the polished door. Harry couldn't care less about the consequence if the dog outside had been an imposter. All he knew was that he need to see him again, to feel his soft fur against his palm and slip it through his fingers, and to look into his pale blue eyes. Yes, the feeling of the presence was unmistakably Sirius. Harry knew he could tell whether it really was Sirius the moment he looked into his eyes. But he didn't care if it was real or not. He had to see him again, even if it would mean death.
Harry swung the front door wide open. He stepped over the threshold.
He turned to the direction of the shrub of plant he himself had lain under last summer. What greeted him was the sight of the shabby black dog that never left his mind once ever since the moment its human form fell through that veil. Harry's heart leapt furiously.
Then their eyes met.
There left no doubt that it could only be Sirius and no other.
.
.
Later Harry had no recollection of how Sirius and he had gotten back into the house. All he remembered was the feeling of soft fur around his arms and floods of tears. Then in a tangle of limbs, he and Padfoot somehow got themselves up the stairs (Or was it Padfoot who dragged him up?). Then Harry remembered throwing his arms around Padfoot's neck once again and for the first time since the horrible moment at the Department of Mysteries, Harry sobbed into the dark fur of his godfather. Padfoot remained still in Harry's embrace and groaned softly. He licked Harry's face with his warm tongue to try to clean up all the relentless tears.
It seemed forever until Harry had sobbed all his strength out and loosened his death grip on Padfoot's neck. He pulled himself apart and stared at the welcoming sight before him.
"Sirius?" Harry croaked hoarsely.
Padfoot gave a soft bark and licked Harry's face even more furiously.
"Sirius? Is it – is it really you?"
Padfoot nodded his hairy head and barked in an affirmative way. Tears spilt down Harry's cheek again and relief coursed through Harry's body. The hope germinated last night explored in Harry's chest. Harry didn't know such enormous relief and happiness were possible. All he could do was to drink in every detail in Padfoot's form and imprint it into his blessed mind. Tears of happiness kept rolling down. But the sadness in Padfoot's eyes was evident.
"Do you have any idea how worried I have been?" Said Harry shakily. Padfoot nodded his head again. "Why didn't you tell me you are ok earlier? How did you get away from the veil? Everyone has been telling me you are gone . . . they said that you were dead. Dead! Apparently you aren't, are you? And I cannot tell you how sorry I was. " Harry kept talking. There was so much to tell. Now Harry had got the chance, he couldn't let it escape. "I am really sorry that I fell into his trap and led my friends and you into danger. I am really sorry! I don't deserve forgiveness. " Padfoot rubbed Harry's chest gently with his head in an attempt to soothe Harry's raging emotion. "Sirius, will you forgive me? Sirius?"
But Sirius uttered no words of comfort.
"Sirius? Are you ok? It is safe to transform here. I will close the door. " Harry lifted himself up and rushed to close and lock his bedroom door. He turned around. Still Sirius sat motionless on the floor in his animagus form and looked intently at the floor. Something was not quite right about the sudden stiffness in his composure.
Harry approached Sirius slowly. "Sirius?" Still no response. Sirius indicated no signs of wanting to transform back to his human form.
Harry knelt down before Sirius. "What are you -" Sirius tilted his head and met Harry's confused gaze steadily. "Why don't you transform?"
Sirius shook his head.
"It's not safe here?"
Sirius shook his head again.
"You don't want to transform?" There was a definite note of panic in Harry's voice.
Still, Sirius shook his head.
"You – you can't - ?"
The dog nodded his gigantic head.
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