On to chapter 6. I can't believe how many rewrites I had to do for chapter 5 to keep Sirius and Dumbledore restrained.
Warnings: It's still shounen-ai, gay, slash, yaoi, a boy dating a boy. Sirius is with Remus, Harry is with Tom. If this isn't your cup of tea, please back away at a very fast speed, trip, and get out.
Notes: (X) is pov change and or time jump
Chapter 6: The Boggart
Harry followed Sirius down the hall. With some of his anger gone, and his obsession with the necklace subdued, he could take in the decrepit scenery around him. Each step they took caused the dark gray runner beneath their feet to send puffs of dust high enough to reach just below their knees. He noted some parts of the runner had rips or burns and it smelled horribly of mildew and possibly of something else, bodily, that he hoped he was wrong about.
The walls held just as much dust as the rug; their true colors nearly impossible to see. Written in dust on the wall outside of the kitchen door were the words, "This is our place now." Harry could hardly believe he'd missed so much the night before.
To the right of the kitchen door was a long hallway. This one luckily didn't house a runner with the intent of choking them with dust before they could make it across its entirety. "Library," Sirius said, motioning to the first door on the right. They continued down the hall until they had reached the end. A large thick dark oak door stood before them. "This is the drawing room."
"Shouldn't we wait for the others?"
"Scared," Sirius asked, grinning.
"No," Harry said immediately. "But we don't know what's in there." An image of a giant mountain of mold flashed in his mind's eye.
"That's half the fun! Where else are we going to get any kind of excitement?"
Harry wasn't sure if cleaning could be considered exciting. He'd done it most of his early life at the Dursleys, usually scrubbing the same spots two or three times, because once was never good enough for Aunt Petunia. He always forgot a spot or didn't do something just quite right. Hopefully Mrs. Weasley wasn't as demanding. He couldn't promise not to walk out of the room and into on-coming traffic if she turned out to be a cleaning fanatic.
Sirius was looking at him, his smile beginning to fade.
"Come on Harry, it's just a room."
"That you said had enough dust and mold in it to kill someone," Harry pointed out.
"We'll open a few windows," Sirius said, as if inhaling vast amounts of dust or mold was no big deal. No need to worry. Sure, it might knock you out, but in the long run? You'll be up and coughing your lungs up by dinnertime. At least you'll get out of cleaning duty for the day, right?
"Umm—"
"I think masks are a better idea," Lupin said, coming to Harry's rescue.
Sirius's grinned, seeing Remus only for it to fade just as quickly as it had come.
"What are you doing here?"
"I asked to be put on cleaning duty today with you," Lupin said, lifting his eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"
"No," Sirius said. "Just thought your talents would be of better use outside," he mumbled.
"Sirius, we've been apart for years, years," Lupin said. "And my much-needed talents are exactly why they let me be selfish for today and stay with you."
"Remus, that's not what I meant," Sirius said, rubbing his temples. The look on his face said he knew Lupin was not happy with his choice of words, and he'd be in trouble if he didn't fix his statement. Now. "You're smarter than most the Order."
Lupin studied Sirius, sighed.
"Not your best cover. You're so lucky you're hot," Lupin muttered. He held up a paper bag. "I went to a Muggle hardware store. The masks inside will help keep the mold and dust from getting into our lungs."
Harry was so glad there was at least one other person in Number Twelve with a real Muggle background. Mr. Weasley might be in love with Muggle items, but he probably didn't know masks like this existed or to use them for such things as cleaning.
"I mean it," Sirius protested.
"I know." Lupin winked at him before he turned his attention to the bag. "I bought enough for everyone." He removed a plastic case with a white cotton mask inside. There was a stretchable band attached to both sides by staples to hold the half sphere looking mask in place. In the middle was a round plastic piece that air could flow through. "The top part is adjustable to fit your nose. It might take a few tries, since you wear glasses. I'll put an anti-fog charm on your glasses so you can still see while you're wearing it."
"Thanks." Harry took the plastic container.
"I don't want anyone getting sick," Lupin, said passing one to Sirius.
"I had one coughing fit the other day," Sirius said, sounding irritated.
Lupin shot him a look that told him to be quiet, and his godfather did so.
"I'm going to hand these out to everyone else in the kitchen. Do not go in there without us." He looked at Sirius, then at Harry, daring either of them to challenge him, and headed back for the kitchen.
"Was he always like this," Harry asked. The Lupin he remembered at school was, for the most part, timid. Harry knew he was strong and a good dueler, but his ex-professor had spent most of his energy on trying to stay standing straight and walk properly. Now he seemed to be overflowing with energy, and he was staring Sirius down. He might as well have been a different person.
"It's that new potion," Sirius said when Lupin vanished into the kitchen. "I'm glad it's working, but I'm not used to him being so assertive."
Harry didn't want his godfather to elaborate. What he'd seen now, and the night before was all the proof he needed. No need to add any other examples. Harry was still getting used to the fact that his godfather and ex-professor were dating.
They've been friends for years though, Harry reminded himself. It's not like Lupin just stumbled across Sirius during Harry's third year. "How long have you two known each other," Harry asked. This seemed like a safe enough question to redirect Sirius's mind.
"Since my first year at Hogwarts," Sirius said. "Funny story really. So, I was supposed to join my cousins on the train, but I didn't care for them much and started looking for another compartment. Most of them were full, but then I saw James dragging Remus into one by the back of his shirt. Remus was trying so hard to get away, but it'd just been a full moon, so he didn't have any energy to fight back." He was smiling for real now. "Not that we knew he was a werewolf at the time. He was pleading with James to let him go, that he wanted to be by himself to read. So, I did the only thing I could possibly think of."
"You helped him get away from my dad," Harry asked.
"He got in front of me and shoved me into the compartment," Lupin said. "I landed on James and broke his glasses. James ripped my shirt, and Sirius had the nerve to walk into the compartment and lock the door so I couldn't run." Despite his words, he was smiling too.
"… Oh, but… you guys still became friends."
"I was held against my will," Lupin said.
"Until I bought you chocolate from the trolley," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.
"You owed me for the shirt," Lupin said. He approached the door.
"James ripped your shirt. He also fixed it."
"Sirius and James were barbarians every chance they got to be," Lupin said.
Harry didn't like the sound of that. He'd heard so many good things about his parents over the years. How could Lupin consider his father or Sirius for that matter a barbarian?
He's probably joking. A lot of Sirius and Lupin's conversations seemed to be filled with jokes. He couldn't see Lupin staying with Sirius and his father if they'd treated him badly. He wouldn't be dating Sirius if that was the case.
"Says the guy who beat me up my fourth year," Sirius said. "I was in the infirmary for a week."
"Sirius, even I'm only capable of taking so much of yours' and James' crap." He pulled his wand out and tapped the doorknob with it. "Masks on before you enter the room." He pulled the mask down over his face. "Right, c'mere Harry." Harry did so, and Lupin tapped his glasses with his wand. "Let's get the mask on now," he said. Between the two of them they managed to get the adjustments just right so Harry could see with the mask on.
Breathing through the mask was strange. It wasn't hard, but even with the holes in front, the air was warm. He stepped into the room, Sirius following behind him, his wand out and ready. Harry had the distinct feeling he was about to enter a war zone. He stepped in behind his godfather, his own wand ready. The room was pitch dark. The windows seemingly charmed not to allow any light into the room.
Sirius made a quick wand movement, small globes of light floating out of his wand and filling the room.
"This is bad," Lupin said.
"No kidding," Sirius agreed.
The entire room looked like a convention center for nesting places. Nothing in it untouched. The walls and floors had huge holes dug out of them. The usual dust and mold were carpeting everything, but this time other things that Harry could not identify joined them. Some of it looked slimy, other sections looked like vines had grown inside the house. One particularly thick one had wrapped around an overstuffed chair. In another corner Harry could see what looked like multiple spider egg sacks piled on top of each other. A groan from behind Harry told him Ron had joined them. This room for sure had spots of blood on the carpet.
"Looks better than when I left," Sirius said.
Lupin shook his head, his eyes smiling.
"I knew this would be a challenge," Mrs. Weasley said. She whipped her wand, an army of cleaning solutions, rags, and cleaning equipment flying into the room and landing in front of them. "Where should we start?"
"We need to see if anything is still alive in here," Lupin said.
Lupin's process of checking for living creatures was getting mildly close to the infested looking areas and shining his wand light on them. There were more living creatures in the room then Harry thought possible.
Mrs. Weasley filled spray bottles with the proper potions and handed them out so they could decontaminate the area as best as they could. In short order they'd removed a number of things, some Harry recognized, such as the doxies, and others he didn't, which included multicolored glowing spiders that changed from one glowing light to another as they scuttled across the floor. Ron ran out of the room screaming when the first one came dashing out from beneath the couch.
Cleaning the room itself turned out to be a very slow process. While Harry wasn't asked to clean anything twice, he ended up having to do it, anyway. The mold and dust were so thick and old that it had actually hardened, and no amount of cleaning potion would loosen it up. Sirius had caught Harry struggling with a particularly bad growth of mold that had taken over a leg on a wooden chair. He took one look at it, told Harry to step back and had set the thing on fire. Harry had expected Mrs. Weasley or Lupin to scold him, but they didn't acknowledge the destruction at all. Lupin just handed Sirius a garbage bag for him to place the chair's remains in.
"I think we could all do with a break," Mrs. Weasley said. They'd just gotten the far wall with the windows scrubbed clean. It turned out to be a pale blue, not the dark green it'd been when they'd first entered. Once the mold and mildew were gone, and the anti-light charms were removed, light flooded into the room. "I'll go make some sandwiches." She left the room smiling, Harry could not figure out why. Yeah, they'd gotten one wall back to its original color and some light from the windows to shine through, but the majority of the room was still a hazard zone.
"Pretty sure there's a Boggart in here," Sirius said, giving the writing desk a hard nudge. The entire desk shook from side to side as if possessed.
Lupin came to stand next to Sirius and looked it over.
"Probably."
"More people here, the easier to handle, right Professor Lupin," Sirius mockingly asked.
"Belt it," Lupin said. "At least one of us had a job." He smirked at Sirius before returning his attention to the rolling drawer on top. We can't be completely sure it's just a Boggart. Your family was known to keep rather… questionable things."
Sirius scoffed at his words.
"We can take anything that comes out of there."
"So, you're going to tell Molly why four of her children are dead should the worst occur?"
"Git," Sirius muttered. "I'm opening it, anyway."
"I know," Lupin sighed. "Everyone else out."
The room erupted into groans.
"You can't be serious," Ron said. "It's just a Boggart."
"You screamed like a little girl when that spider the size of your foot ran across the room," Fred said.
"That's not fair Fred, Ginny doesn't sound like that at all. It's just Ron," George said, grinning.
"Right, Sorry Ginny," Fred said.
Ginny laughed while Ron glared at his older brothers.
"I mean it. Sirius may be mad enough to risk everyone, but I'm not." He walked towards them and began ushering them out of the room. "Go help your mother with the sandwiches. You to Hermione."
"I can stay, right," Harry asked. He didn't want to be with Ron and Hermione, not yet.
"'Course you can, Harry," Sirius said.
Lupin sighed. "If you must."
"Ready Moony? Count of three?"
"Just open it," Lupin said, sounding tired.
Sirius gave a shrug and pushed the rolling drawer open. The Boggart darted out into the middle of the room where it threw itself onto the floor in the forms of Harry and Lupin's dead bodies leaning against each other, both covered in blood.
"I see you've given my corpse a companion," Lupin said, examining the Boggart.
It was very strange for Harry to see himself lying dead on the floor. It was pale, a streak of blood on his chin, a larger splash of blood on his shirt. Lupin's corpse was in much worse shape. It looked like an animal had mauled his neck. Maybe another werewolf?
"Riddikulus!" Sirius's spell hit the Boggart dead on, the illusion twisting and reforming. Instead of turning into something amusing, it took on the form of something else immediately.
"You cheating on me, Remus," Sirius asked teasingly.
Harry didn't know what was going on, but his heart was beginning to beat fast. There was a dead body on the floor, but it was not his or Lupin's, or anyone else he recognized for that matter. He took a step closer, his insides tightening, each breath getting harder to take.
"Would you blame me if I was?"
"That doesn't look like Cedric, who is that," Sirius asked.
"I don't know," Lupin said.
Harry shook his head. It was a teenage boy with hair somehow blacker than his own, but Harry couldn't place him. A part of him believed he should know who the teen was, after all. This seemed to be his Boggart, but nothing came to mind. He didn't see any external injuries beyond damage to the teen's robes, Hogwarts robes, with rips at the bottom. But he knew the teen was dead.
A flash of red light, a loud scream.
The sun from outside caught on something in the teen's hand and Harry's eyes widen. He took a step back and let out a scream when his foot caught on the rug. He landed on his bottom, his panic rising.
"Riddikulus," Lupin shouted. The form vanished, replaced by a full moon shining brightly within the room. "I'll take care of this. Get Harry out of here!"
Sirius was beside Harry and pulling him to his feet.
"Come on." He dragged Harry towards the door.
Tears were flowing down his face as he stumbled along after his godfather. He didn't know what to do. Harry no longer wanted to be in the drawing room, maybe not even in number twelve. He didn't know that teen's name. He had no idea who he was, and yet the corpse had been holding his necklace tightly in his hands.
(X)
Despite being sent back to his room, given a cup of hot chocolate, a candy bar, and Sirius staying with him for an hour before his godfather left again to help with something, he didn't feel much better than when he'd first lied down. Harry couldn't remember what he'd said, but it didn't quite matter. All he could think about was the teen lying on the ground, obviously dead, with the necklace in his hand, and the overwhelming guilt that had followed.
What if…
"NO!" He brought his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tight. He was no longer in number twelve, but somewhere at night, not far from the lake at Hogwarts. The teen he'd seen in the drawing room was beneath a tree, lifeless. Harry was looking down at the corpse, smirking, the necklace gripped tightly in his hand, streaks of blood on the pendant. "GRAAAH!" He got up, refusing to believe it. There was no way, just no way. He didn't know who that guy dead in the grass was, but he hadn't done it.
But the Boggart didn't put these memories in my head. He groaned, wishing again he'd never stepped foot into number twelve. There was no way he'd taken the necklace from that guy; someone had mailed it to him. Dumbledore would have said something. I'M NOT A MURDERER!
The guilt he felt was very real, and for some reason he couldn't trace it back to the source beyond the partial memory. All he could see was the dead, nameless teen and the necklace. Why couldn't he remember anything else?
He let out another frustrated growl and kicked the side of the bed as hard as he could. He kicked it again and again, waiting for the pain to start, because he was kicking the wood barefooted, but he couldn't feel anything.
Harry's body flew onto the bed. He turned onto his back, his breath ragged. He heard a small click telling him the door had was now open. The shadow he'd seen the day before was standing in front of the bed, its arms folded across its chest.
"Oh…" Another wave of guilt and depression washed over him. If the shadow was a part of the necklace and he'd killed the other teen for the necklace, then everything made perfect sense. Now that the shadow could escape from the necklace, it was going to take its revenge on Harry for killing the original owner. He'd thought the shadow had been his friend, the one thing in the world that had understood him. "I'm sorry," he said, sitting up in the bed. "I can't even remember him."
The shadow climbed onto the bed.
"I…" He what? He'd said he was sorry. He couldn't bring back the teen the Boggart had shown him. "I don't know what I did. I remember Cedric's death. I don't understand." No one had said anything about another death. Had he hidden that one? Killed the teen, took the necklace, and covered it up? Whatever the shadow did to him, he deserved it. "I don't know what I did, why, or how," he said with a sob. "But I'm not going to fight you. I deserve whatever I get."
The shadow grabbed his chin and forced him to look into its eyes.
"What," he asked, his anger slowly coming back. "Just get it over with!"
The shadow released his chin, a small flash of light appearing before Harry's eyes. His head began to throb immediately after.
'What are you talking about?'
Harry's breath caught in his throat. He'd definitely heard the words, but he hadn't.
'Answer me,' it demanded. A hint of anger followed the words.
"The necklace," he said.
This time he could just make out relief in his mind.
'Don't worry about that.' The shadow crawled up next to him and wrapped an arm around Harry. 'I'm not worried about the necklace right now. Just don't drop it or anything.'
"You're not mad? You're not going after me for revenge?" He turned so he could look at the shadow. He needed its approval. More than anyone else, he needed the shadow to forgive him, even if he could never forgive himself.
'Revenge, for what?'
So, the necklace held no loyalty to its previous owners. Did it even remember who owned it before someone else took possession of it?
So, if someone takes it from me… He wiped some of his tears away with his arm. It was just a necklace, after all. He couldn't expect a magical item to hold grudges and want revenge. Even if it acted like a living being, it wasn't.
"I won't let anyone touch it," he vowed, burying his face into the shadow's neck. "I'll die before I let someone else take the necklace."
Which is exactly what the previous owner did, he thought to himself miserably.
'I know,' the shadow said. It began stroking Harry's back with its thumb. 'Sorry, I wasn't with you today. I had to rest.' Whispers of frustration.
"I, I managed," Harry said. "We were just cleaning the drawing room. It was pretty boring."
'Your mental state claims otherwise, however…' it leaned over and kissed Harry on the back of the head. 'Delving into it now seems reckless. Rest for now.'
Harry lifted his head to protest. He needed to talk with the shadow. Not even Sirius had been able to calm his nerves, but being in the shadow's arms had allowed him to breathe and his anger to clear.
'Don't fight me,' it said the anger back. Before Harry could protest, a rush of calm and peace filled his mind. He took one last look at the shadow before he sagged forward in its arms.
(X)
Harry groaned, turning over in his bed. He had no idea what time it was, but Ron was already asleep in the bed across from him, snoring loudly as ever. He looked to his other side, frowning. The bed was empty. Climbing onto his knees, he pulled the necklace out from under his shirt. He knew it was stupid, but he wanted to try. Needed to.
"Hey." He waited, even though he knew he wouldn't be getting an answer. The necklace was still devoid of any light or warmth. Scowling, he kicked the end of the bed. Of course, it had all been a dream. What else could it have possibly been? He knew all too well that the necklace had been broken. Even if it hadn't, he knew now why the shadow in it wanted him dead. It would be better if he just handed Dumbledore the necklace and told him that he'd killed someone for it. Another student that his brain seemed unable to recall. Perhaps the guilt was keeping it hidden.
Harry couldn't imagine ever killing someone for anything, let alone a necklace. He hadn't even killed the Death Eaters he'd run into. Why would he kill a Hogwart's student for this thing? And if he had, who'd he given the necklace to afterwards to mail to him?
His stomach let out a low growl, his eyes falling onto the candy bar. He'd slept through lunch and dinner. He sat up unwrapping the chocolate and broke a piece off. He wasn't completely sure he'd killed the teen, but if nothing else, he'd stolen his necklace.
I should tell Dumbledore. Maybe this was why the headmaster had wanted to keep Harry away from everyone and make sure he found out nothing about the Order's plans. Now that he had an idea about what was going on, he didn't blame the headmaster at all. He'd seen the necklace, though. Wasn't that all the proof he needed that Harry had done something horrible? Was he waiting for Harry to confess? How could he have done something like this? Sirius was never going to forgive him or ever be proud of him again. He'd let Mrs. Weasley down, and his friends, and everyone in the Order. The only person he was supposed to kill was Voldemort.
Harry's hand gave a sudden jerk, and he looked up, his eyes blinking, not quite believing what he was seeing. The shadow was next to him and chewing on a piece of chocolate it'd just broken off the candy bar.
"You're…" He grabbed the shadow's wrist and held it. It stared at him like he'd gone mad. He released it at once, just grateful that it had returned. He broke the candy bar in half and held it out. The shadow took it without a word.
Was he still dreaming? If he could continue to dream this way, with the shadow staying by his side, he was okay with it. He could sleep until he had to fight Voldemort or do whatever it is Dumbledore wanted him to do, and then he could go back to his dreams.
'Your mind is a mess,' the shadow said.
Harry gave a half shrug and set the half-eaten candy bar on the bedside table.
"I think—"
'Mentally.' The shadow snapped its eyes darting to Ron.
"Huh?"
'Direct your thoughts to me so that worthless red head doesn't wake up.'
Harry had to hold back a laugh and nearly failed. Ron was not a worthless red head, at least not most of the time.
'Like this?' His head hurt the second he did it, but it was becoming more bearable. Nothing like it had been a day ago.
'Yes, go on,' it said, still enjoying the chocolate.
'I've been thinking… I must have wanted you really bad.'
The shadow moved the chocolate away from what Harry guess was its mouth.
'You could say that,' it said, sounding amused.
So, I did do it, he mentally groaned.
'I never meant to cause you any harm, or pain, or anything, I swear. If anything, I did resulted in any pain whatsoever I'm sorry. The next time I see Dumbledore, I'm going to confess, and if you want to kill me after I kill Voldemort, fine. But until then you can't, okay? I hope you don't hate me, but—'
The shadow shook its head, his eyes closing for a second, and held his hand up to Harry. A minute or so went by before it answered.
'One thought at a time,' it said, sounding tired. 'Even I can't process through that mess all at once.' It took a bite of the chocolate. 'I understood not wanting to cause me harm, Dumbledore, and don't hate me.'
'I did something really bad last year,' Harry said.
'Who didn't,' the shadow said, snorting.
'No, really bad,' Harry said. 'I need to tell Dumbledore what I did.'
'Okay, so what does that have to do with me and not hating you?' There was a hint of a growl in the words.
'I don't know what'll happen after I tell him. Actually, I'm pretty sure he already knows and just wants me to admit it.' He moved closer to the shadow, surprised at how warm and comforting it was to be next to it.
'That still doesn't explain why I'd hate you.'
'Because it's my fault you're here,' Harry said.
The shadow blinked at him a few times.
'Yes, you are.' Confusion tinted every word.
'If it wasn't for me, you'd…' Would the shadow lash out if he mentioned its previous owner? Did the shadow's memory get erased when a new person took ownership? Had the necklace's previous owner been as enamored as he was now? Perhaps they'd been best friends and talked late into the night. Harry had not only possibly taken the teen's best friend; he'd definitely taken his life. 'If there's anything I can do to make it up to you…'
'I was just kidding about wanting you to stay with the Muggles,' it said. 'Stop over thinking things.'
'But—'
'If you want to make up for waking me up at three in the morning a day after I exhausted myself, hand over the other half of the candy bar.'
For a second Harry thought it was joking, but the shadow was still staring at him a minute later. He grabbed the other half of the candy bar and gave it to him.
Him does sound right, he thought, wondering when he'd jumped the bridge of considering the shadow a him instead of a it.
'It's not the highest quality, but it's decent,' the shadow said.
'… If you're not after revenge, why did you attack me when we got here?'
'I wasn't trying to attack you,' he said tiredly. 'I was trying to find out the extent of this mental connection. It hurt more than I thought it would.' He sighed and finished consuming the candy bar.
'Isn't this because of the necklace?'
'If only it were that simple,' he said, his eyes closing. 'I really need to rest…'
'But you're staying with me, right,' Harry asked quickly.
'Mhmm.'
The shadow drifted off and yet its form remained in the bed next to Harry. He could see the shadow's chest rising as it slept. He moved down in the bed, so he was even with the shadow, and watched him. He had a sense of Déjà vu and took one of the shadow's hands in his own before he allowed his own eyes to close.
I'm so sorry. How could he be responsible for destroying a connection like this? And what in the hell had driven him to want to in the first place?
(TBC)
A tad shorter than the other chapters, but this seemed like a good place to stop.