I muttered the words rewrites are easier and jinxed myself. I knew it'd happen and did it anyway. It didn't help I'm on sinus infection 3? 4? They have to do some more cutting, but they can't until the infection is gone.

Random: Don't you love it when you change your story to the suggestions of a grammar program and then it gives you a lower score than your original text? I mean…come on…

Warnings: It's shounen-ai, yaoi, slash, gay, boy love, whatever you call it. Harry/Tom and Remus/Sirius

Notes: (X) is pov change and or time jump

Chapter 8: Reassurance

'Hey.' Harry had been trying to get the shadow's attention for the last forty minutes or so while his sanity slowly seeped through his fingers like the soapsuds from the sponge he was using on the dirty dishes. And again, his thoughts hit a wall inside his mind. It was weird and somehow unnerving. He hadn't even known mental communication was possible until the shadow had spoken to him that way. Each time they spoke he was sure someone was stabbing his brain with a quill, but now that he couldn't reach the shadow, he felt lonely.

He set the now clean plate to the right onto a towel to dry before grabbing another dirty one from the tower on his left. The tower that never seemed to end, no matter how many plates he managed to make sparkle, and he'd washed quite a few of them already.

It was possible he was just moving slow. He needed answers from the shadow, and the pendant still wasn't working. He wanted to ask about the trial and in a very roundabout way ask about the student he might have killed for the necklace hanging around his neck.

Right, possibly, he thought, rolling his eyes. Sure, he didn't remember hurting the student, hell. He didn't even remember the student. The only insight he'd gotten from the Boggart's splendid display was the feeling of triumph. None of it explained why, though. Even he had his dark thoughts when it came to people like Draco Malfoy, but he'd never acted on them. What could have sent him over the edge to harm someone? Maybe if he needed to keep his friends or himself safe, but to steal a necklace?

Scowling, he scrubbed the dish in his hand harder. Why couldn't he remember anything? Had he allowed himself to slip into denial and shove the memory so deep down he'd never remember it?

'I'm going to try something.'

"AGH!" Harry dropped the plate into the sink and doubled over, his brain, no, his very spirit throbbing. Tears began to stream down his face. With what sense he had left, he sat down on the floor, his back against the wooden cabinet beneath the sink. The shadow appeared before him and then the pain stopped. No warning, no grand buildup, just gone.

'Does it hurt now?'

Harry stared up at the shadow, surprised. There was no pain followed behind its words.

'No,' he said, testing it. 'What did you do?'

'I figured out how to close some parts without closing others,' he explained. He held his hand out to Harry. The Gryffindor took his hand, and the shadow pulled him up. 'I was about to go mad,' he muttered, releasing Harry's hand once he was on his feet. 'At least we know there's a way to close it. I was beginning to worry.' He walked over to the kitchen table and sat down in one of the chairs.

Harry frowned and followed the shadow to the table. The familiarity he'd felt with the necklace was back now. There was no edge to his words or hostility. No sudden overwhelming emotions coming from nowhere. Had the shadow just been lashing out because of the pain?

'So… we can talk this way,' Harry asked. He sat down in the seat closest to the shadow. 'What about the necklace?'

'This is safer. No one will be able to hear your side of the conversation.' A mental laugh followed, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. The sound made his whole body feel warm and something else. Happy? Lucky? Whatever the emotion, he wanted to hear the shadow laugh more. 'That useless redhead of yours is lucky I didn't kill him this morning.'

'He was just surprised to see you in my bed,' Harry said. He didn't know why he was defending Ron. The redhead sure didn't deserve it. No… It surprised Harry that he still considered Ron his best friend, despite their current fight. Sirius and the shadow took priority in this case, would always take priority, but Ron wasn't at the bottom of his defense list either. 'I was surprised to see you too.'

The shadow tilted his head.

'Why were you surprised? You were the one who asked me to stay with you this morning.'

'Every time I wake up, you're gone already.'

Harry wished the emotions were still tinting every word the shadow spoke. Being able to have a conversation with the shadow devoid of intense pain was an improvement. He could focus on what was being said, but the lack of emotions made it hard to read the shadow. With only the shadow's eyes and overall body language was visible it was impossible to see the normal reactions a human face made while talking and that put him at a huge disadvantage. A small amount of pain might be worth it.

'You're right… I haven't been giving you the attention you deserve,' he said. His eyes shifted to the door, then back to Harry. 'This would be so much easier if I had more energy.' He let out a sigh. 'I don't even want to think about tomorrow.'

The shadow placed his hands on the table. Harry's own hand covered the shadow's before he even thought it through. He hoped this wouldn't trigger some instinct in him to murder Harry but removing his hand would probably make his situation worse. The shadow didn't seem to mind, and Harry felt his body relax.

'I'm not going to win this trial,' Harry said. There was no use in denying it. Fudge would do everything in his power to see Harry kicked out of school and maybe even thrown into Azkaban. Anything at all to discredit Harry more and make others believe in Fudge's position. To think Fudge would lie so blatantly and possibly cause so many unnecessary deaths by putting people into a false sense of security. To make others believe that Voldemort was still nothing more than old nightmare. How could people be so blind? 'So…'

'Do you actually think I'd let them take you,' the shadow asked, amused. He didn't laugh, but Harry could see the humor in his eyes.

'I'm serious,' Harry said, doing his best to keep his emotions in check. 'Do you want me to hand the necklace over to Dumbledore before the trial, or leave it here on my bed?'

The shadow stared at him, his eyes narrowing. In one swift movement he moved his hand from beneath Harry's and wrapped it around the Gryffindor's arm. The shadow dug his fingers in. Bruises and breaks in Harry's skin appeared before his eyes, pain shooting up his arm.

"Stop it," he hissed. He tried to pull his arm back, but the shadow tightened its grip, small streaks of blood pooling at the scratch marks.

'You will do no such thing,' he growled. 'We will enter that courtroom together. Should anyone, and I do mean anyone, attempt to separate us, the ministry will be cleaning up a massacre.' He removed his fingers from within Harry's arm and placed his hand on top of the cuts. Tiny streams of blood began to spread out across Harry's arm. The blood disappeared along with any pain Harry had been feeling. '… Sorry,' he muttered, moving his hand in his lap.

'You… you can't just kill everyone… and… stop attacking me,' Harry said. He gave a quick look at his arm. There was no trace that the shadow had harmed him. At least he'd taken the time to heal the damage he'd caused this time.

'Excuse me if your complete lack of concern for your own life enrages me. I thought we had come to an understanding about this subject already. You do not get to throw your life away just because you think you're out of options.'

'What?' Harry wasn't quite sure what the shadow was talking about. He made it sound like Harry was attempting suicide or something. 'I just want you safe,' he said, hoping the shadow would understand. It seemed the dependency and protectiveness Harry had been experiencing since he'd gotten the necklace went both ways. If the shadow formed such an irrational attachment with the person who owned the necklace though, how did Harry manage to kill and steal the necklace from that student? Especially with the shadow protecting him.

'If you end up in Azkaban, you'll be murdered for sure.'

'Oh…' That was true. He probably wouldn't last a day in Azkaban, if not because of the Death Eaters, then the Dementors.

'Did you hit or your head or something after the last task?'

'Huh?' For a second Harry thought he was going to pass out. Had he been wearing the necklace before the last task? He didn't think so. Like the student, there was nothing in his mind about what took place after the last task, no matter how hard he tried to remember. The more he tried to recall anything, the further away the memories seemed. He couldn't focus on a single one. The few he could remember kept shuffling back and forth. He was at the lake, ready to jump in, then at Hogsmeade, on the train, in the Great Hall. Back at the lake. 'I don't know,' he admitted. It scared him that there was more he couldn't remember and even more so that it hurt to try to sort through them. 'It's probably the shock.' What else could it be?

The shadow studied him for a moment.

'I need to go talk to someone.'

'You can't,' Harry said, the pain and fear related to trying to recall after the last task vanishing. 'Please… don't say anything about number twelve…'

'Harry,' He leaned towards him. 'I will never betray you unless it's to keep you alive.'

"W, wait!" The shadow vanished. What in the hell had that been about? Who could the shadow possibly go talk to? Wasn't that something only the necklace owner and the shadow could do? Is that how Harry had gotten the necklace from the other student? Had the shadow, and he, struck up a conversation one day and decided to plot the other student's death?

He shuddered at the thought. The shadow could be conspiring with someone, anyone, about his death then. That might be how it moved from owner to owner. It would manipulate someone new to kill the previous owner after it got bored with them.

What am I thinking, he mentally screamed? There was no way the shadow would do anything like that. If he'd been bored with Harry, he would have let the Dementors kill him or the Gytrash or his uncle. The shadow cared about him more than anyone. He had just promised to kill everyone in the courtroom tomorrow if anyone tried to separate them. Despite these recent lash outs, Harry knew it cared for him. I need to ask him… He was going to go mad himself if he didn't ask about the student the Boggart had shown him.

Shaking, he stood up and walked back to the sink. The pile of dirty dishes remained waiting to be cleaned. Harry thought they might have multiplied while he was talking with the shadow too. He lifted one of the plates and the sponge.

'When you finish… I need to ask you something.'

'Okay.'

He jumped slightly, surprised that the shadow had responded so fast. That was convenient. Distance did not seem to be an issue for mental speech. Now he needed to spend the rest of his time trying to convince himself to ask the shadow about the student.

When he'd finished with the dishes, he left the kitchen without looking back. Part of him wanted to help Sirius with the library, but the bedroom was probably safer. He didn't know what to say to Sirius or anyone else for that matter. He'd lied about the shadow, and in the process had made Ron sound crazy. His godfather and Lupin were probably trying to find out who the dead student was before approaching him. That was good because he wanted to know too. Maybe after hearing the student's name, he'd be able to remember what had happened.

He went straight for the steps. There were only small dust clouds erupting from the carpet now. Someone must have attempted to clean it the night before or all the foot traffic had been sending the dust to settle in new locations.

He cares about me a lot, he thought as he went up the stairs. He spotted the decimated spot that had once been the portrait of Sirius's mother. After the shadow had found out his hatred for the portrait, he had taken no time in removing it from Harry's life. The power his necklace held was incredible. Dangerous, but comforting all the same. If the shadow tried to kill a room full of trained ministry officials, Harry believed he would be victorious. What kind of person did that make him if he didn't try and stop the shadow though? They aren't going to play fair. The shadow was the only way he'd have a fighting chance.

(X)

"Has my mum come back yet," Ron asked, walking into the living room. He collapsed into an overstuffed chair as Hermione came in. "I don't think she's ever stayed out this long buying groceries."

Harry looked to the redhead, surprised that Ron was trying to be civil. He'd expected him to hold a grudge about the shadow for the rest of the day, maybe the rest of the week. Not that Ron knew for sure he was lying. He'd gotten quite good at it.

"I'm sure she's fine," Hermione said. She sat down on the other side of the couch Harry had occupied about half an hour ago and had yet since moved. He was exhausted by this point. The shadow hadn't returned and every second he was gone gave Harry another chance to question everything. He'd tried to push his dark thoughts away, tell himself that everything was going to be fine, but it hadn't helped. He didn't know where the shadow had run off too or who he was talking with. Harry told himself that the shadow was on his side, but how did he know? The only thing he was sure of, the very thought of pushing the shadow away caused him internal pain and made his anxiety tenfold.

I should be wearing a sign that says I gave up my independence for a magical object.

"You don't think Sirius locked her in the basement, do you?"

"Ron," Hermione chided, glaring at him.

Harry looked at his two friends. He knew Ron was joking from his tone. Hermione was trying to keep the peace, thinking his friend was pushing it. A sudden urge to tell them everything washed over him. He had endured everything for the last four years, only because of these two people. Without them, he wouldn't be sitting on this couch. Dumbledore had told him not to tell anyone about the necklace, but Hermione had already seen it.

But was it right for him to drag them into this mess? There was no way Ron and Hermione were involved with the dead student or the necklace. The fact that they were talking to him was proof enough that they knew nothing about it. If they suspected him even a little of killing someone, they wouldn't be sitting in the same living room with him trying to be his friend.

"I was just kidding, sheesh," Ron muttered.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, both his friends looking at him. "I've just been so angry about everything." As the words left his mouth, he realized how true that was. In less than three months, Voldemort had risen, Cedric had died before him. He'd been isolated from the Wizarding world; he'd gotten attacked by Dementors and Gytrash. No one had come to check on him. He'd been ready to give up hope on ever seeing anyone again. And just when he'd thought everyone had turned their back on him for good, the necklace had arrived. Sitting next to his friends now, his mind too tired to be angry, he knew he'd been an idiot. These two people were his best friends and always would be.

"It's okay," Hermione said. She gave Ron a look that dared him to say otherwise.

"No, it's not," Harry said. "It really isn't. All I've done is yell at everyone and blame others for being stuck at the Dursleys, but neither of you had anything to do with that."

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks, smiles forming on their faces.

"That's what I was trying to say," Ron said, moving to the edge of his chair. "We even tried sending you a first aid kit when we heard the Gytrash attacked you!"

"You did?"

"Of course, we did," Hermione said. "We had Fred and George help us. They transfigured one of their joke shop's boxes to look like a box of chocolates. But there was already an anti-mail charm on your house, and then Dumbledore found out…" She shook her head. "We were terrified you weren't going to survive."

"Yeah," Ron said. "We tried to think of some way to break the spell… Okay, Hermione did," Ron said when Hermione gave him a questioning look. "Not even Sirius was sure how to break it."

"Every Anti-mail charm is different," Hermione explained. "Or rather, the one who places the charm is the only one who knows the words to undo it."

"Wonderful," Harry said. So, Dumbledore had basically locked the communication channel to his house, and password protected it for good measure.

"Once we get back to school, I'll look into it," she said. "If nothing else, Professor Flitwick should be able to tell us something."

"Sure, if I'm not expelled," Harry said.

The energy in the room evaporated and both of his friends paled.

"Harry, there's no way-" Hermione started.

"They wouldn't be having this trial if Fudge thought he could lose." He'd been thinking about the trial since the shadow had left in an attempt to occupy his thoughts. Fudge wouldn't risk trying to convict him if he didn't think he'd win. The Minister couldn't afford to lose face where Harry was concerned. That confidence scared him. What would he do if he got expelled? And partly for saving Dudley, of all people. Couldn't he at least get expelled for saving someone worthwhile? Draco, maybe? As much as he pissed Harry off, the Slytherin still had more brains to contribute to society in general than Dudley ever would.

"You had no choice and there are laws in place for that," Hermione said. "You were completely within your right to use magic to defend yourself!"

"Come off it Hermione. With all the lies Fudge is pushing in the paper, do you really think he's going to play fair," Ron asked.

"But it's the law," she said. She didn't sound as sure as before.

"He's the Minister, I really don't think any laws matter, unless it benefits him," Harry said.

A frustrated look crossed Hermione's face. Ron was nodding in agreement. At least someone understood the seriousness of the situation. Harry needed someone to understand that tomorrow morning would probably be his last morning as a free person. He would probably be sentenced to Azkaban so Fudge could silence him. Even if the shadow made good on his promise and slaughtered everyone within the courtroom, Harry would be on the run for the rest of his life. Not that that would last long. If his luck continued the way it'd been so far, he'd probably be dead by the end of the week.

"You can't give up," she whispered.

"I'm not," Harry said, without hesitation. The last thing he wanted to do was give Fudge the satisfaction of him quitting. What Harry wanted to do was prove to Fudge that he was wrong and that even if he abused his powers, he couldn't get Harry expelled. That on some level, there were people who knew the truth and would see reason. He hoped. "I just don't want to get my hopes up."

"Dumbledore will be there with you," Hermione said.

"Yeah, Dumbledore will make sure you don't get expelled," Ron said.

"Maybe." The chances of Dumbledore working with Fudge to get him expelled were high, especially if he had murdered another student. The headmaster might not have proof of his crime, but if he could get Harry kicked out for something else, why not? Harry couldn't fault him for that either, because he'd have done the same thing if he was truly guilty of killing another student. He couldn't explain that to his friends though. This could be the last conversation they ever had.

He closed his eyes, wishing the shadow would come back.

The front door of number twelve opened and slammed shut, footsteps rushing towards them. The three students turned towards the entranceway. Lupin's face appeared in the doorway, pale and panicked looking. His eyes scanned the room, his mouth moving silently, and he gave a small nod.

"Did anyone else go shopping with Molly this morning?" The three of them shook their heads. "Good." Lupin left, heading towards the kitchen. "Sirius!"

"What do you think is wrong," Hermione asked, in a whisper.

"Maybe they found where you-know-who is," Ron said.

Hermione shot Ron a dark look. "Don't you think he'd sound happier about that?"

"Just saying," Ron muttered.

More footsteps. Ginny walked into the living room looking extremely confused.

"What's going on," she asked. She took a seat next to Hermione.

"Dunno," Ron said.

The twins appeared next, both making faces as they walked towards two empty chairs.

"We'll deny everything," Fred said.

"And make sure they know all of you are coconspirators," George added.

"Is this about the extendable ears," Ginny asked. "I didn't think we learned anything useful the last time."

"We didn't," Fred said. "But they don't know what we heard."

"And they asked us to stop, but we didn't," George added.

"Well, worst they can do is yell at us," Fred said confidently.

"What are extendable ears," Harry asked. The twins were about to explain when Charlie entered the living room.

"No one is going to yell at you," Charlie said. "Not today."

"Charlie," Ginny said, jumping to her feet. She ran over to her brother and gave him a tight hug.

"What are you doing here," Fred asked. Any humor in his voice had vanished.

"Let Bill and dad get here," he said.

"Who died," Fred asked. Hermione gasped at that and the other Weasley children all turned their attention to Fred.

Charlie gave Fred a half-smile.

"You did always know how to read the mood."

"Who," Fred asked again.

"We really should wait for Bill and dad…"

"So, someone did die," Ron said in horror.

Someone died…? Harry's eyes widened as he remembered what Lupin had asked them. He did a quick mental count of the entire Weasley family, his stomach sinking. Judging by the look on Hermione's face, she'd figured it out too. Mrs. Weasley is dead…?

Ron had lost his mother. That wasn't fair. The rest of his family was or would be wrapped up in the Order soon and would all have large targets on them. Ron couldn't end up an orphan like him. All because he'd been stupid enough to get dragged into that graveyard and helped Voldemort get his powers back.

Did I get her killed…? He began to shake. Would Mrs. Weasley be dead if Voldemort hadn't returned to power? He shut his eyes, trying to push the thought away. I'm not a killer! He mentally shouted, only… he was, wasn't he? The student lying dead on the ground hadn't killed himself. But I didn't kill Mrs. Weasley!

"Nn!" Harry's vision blurred, slight pain coursing through his brain. 'What are you doing,' he asked. The sensation of electricity running over his brain had him closing his eyes again. The shadow needed to stop this; he didn't have time to collapse or become the center of attention. Ron needed him.

"What happened!?" George screamed.

"Who did it," Fred demanded. "Was it Percy?"

"Of course not," Mr. Weasley snapped. "Why would you even think that?"

Harry hadn't even noticed his hearing had faded out with his vision. There was no other explanation though because Mr. Weasley and Bill were sitting in the living room and Harry couldn't remember seeing or hearing them enter.

'Mrs. Weasley's dead?' The words sounded surprised.

Somehow Harry found the shadow standing in the back of the room immediately. He wasn't easy to spot, and yet he'd known exactly where to look.

'Yeah… I think so…' He'd blacked out at the wrong moment, but given how everyone was reacting, he was pretty sure she was. Bill and Charlie were both holding onto Ginny, who was trying hard not to cry and failing. Ron was refusing to look at anyone, but Harry could hear him sobbing. The twins both looked pissed, Mr. Weasley tired.

'Are you okay…?' Hesitation.

"Harry. Harry." Harry blinked. Sirius was sitting beside him on the couch where Hermione had been. He looked worried. What was going on? Where had Hermione gone? "Are you okay?"

"I think so…" His brain didn't seem to be connecting with his emotions. He was sad, no sad wasn't quite right. He was beyond sad. The woman who'd been his surrogate mother, who'd taken him in without a second thought. The one person who'd made sure he had a normal, loving place he could always return to even when the rest of the world turned on him? The one who sent them knitted sweaters and chocolate Easter bunnies? Who always made sure they had plenty of food? Mrs. Weasley who checked in on them at the Burrow and helped ease any fears they might have? She was gone? She couldn't just be gone…

Sirius wrapped him into a tight embrace, but he still couldn't get himself to cry. He knew he should be crying, or getting angry, something, anything! Anything to prove that he cared. Why? Why weren't any tears coming?

"It's okay," Sirius said. Harry found himself trying to catch his breath and nodded. Sirius' words had managed to ground him somehow. He buried his face in Sirius's shirt and cried.

(X)

Harry was in his bed when his brain started working again. He couldn't recall how he got there, or anything really after he'd turn into a crying heap on Sirius. He'd probably scared his godfather with his sudden outburst. Now that he was aware, he could feel his head hurting, nothing new there. His eyes felt dry too.

He looked to Ron's bed. Empty. Somewhere in the room was a presence.

'You're awake.' The words were gentle and unsure.

'Where is everyone? I don't even remember coming upstairs.' One more chunk of memory, gone. At this rate, he shouldn't even bother going to school. What was the point if his mind just kept blocking everything out? Snape would tell them there was a test the next day and the rest of the class would be a blur. When the day of the test arrived, he would wonder why no one had mentioned it.

'You're in shock,' the shadow said, resting his hand on Harry's own.

Harry turned towards the wall. The shadow was reclining next to him. Without asking permission, he moved as closed to the shadow as he possible. The shadow's arm came around him as Harry rested his head on his chest. For the first time that day, he felt safe and at peace.

'What time is it…?'

'Does it matter?'

It didn't. As long as it wasn't time for Harry's trial. Still, he couldn't think about Mrs. Weasley, not yet. Not Mrs. Weasley, not the trial, and not the unknown student.

'I deserve to be locked up,' he said. He deserved every bad thing that life had to throw at him.

A small spark of anger erupted within him. Another electrical onslaught on his brain followed. This time it was only a minor tingling sensation rather than the usual pain.

The anger turned to shock.

'You did not kill Mrs. Weasley.'

'If I hadn't gone into that graveyard…'

'No one knew that cup was a port key,' he said, his words somewhat rushed. 'You can't take credit for every death you come across. You'll go mad.'

Harry lifted his head and glared at the shadow.

'You have no idea what I'm capable of,' he snapped.

'I know exactly what you're capable of,' the shadow said calmly. 'More than anyone.' He ran his hand through Harry's hair.

Harry tried to move away, but both his mind and body told him no. He didn't deserve this comfort, and yet he desperately wanted it.

'Do you even remember your previous owner,' Harry demanded. If he couldn't get himself to pull away, he'd make the shadow leave him. It would be for the best. Maybe the shadow would kill him now and save Fudge the trouble.

Curiosity.

'That's a rather short list, but which one?'

'The last student,' Harry said. 'The one I took you from.'

The shadow didn't seem to understand. Harry's mind flooded with confusion. Just when he thought he'd scream, it stopped. A stronger electric current rushed through his mind.

The confusion gave way to amusement, the shadow chuckling.

'Someone is very confused,' he said laughing.

Harry's face burned.

'I, I am not! I took the necklace from him!'

'Only, because I let you.'

The words hit Harry hard. So, he'd been right. The shadow turned on its owners when it grew bored. The emotional bond the owner of the necklace and the shadow shared was too strong to leave it be. The shadow had to make sure the previous owner died before moving onto the next one.

'… How long until you're bored with me then?'

The laughter stopped, confusion and anger once again forming in Harry's mind.

'I'm not,' it said, his words full of confidence.

'Are you sure? There's no way I could have killed that student if you'd been protecting him. Did you promise him you wouldn't get bored? That you'd keep him alive—"

The anger became full-blown rage and Harry was sure his mind was going to burn until nothing was left.

'I gave you the necklace of my own free will,' he growled.

"And he died because of it!"

Harry and the shadow stared at each other, both of them surprised.

"S, sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud, but… he's dead, because of me… even if I didn't kill Mrs. Weasley, that student died, because I wanted a necklace. ….whatever sentence Fudge gives me, I deserve…"

The shadow sighed. 'I guess I have no choice, but to show you. This is going to hurt…' He brought his hand up and placed it against Harry's forehead. Pain and heat rushed through his entire body and he was sure this was the end of him. He'd pushed the shadow too far this time. 'Open your eyes.'

Harry hadn't realized he'd closed them. He was no longer lying in his bed, but standing, the shadow beside him. In front of them was another Harry, a younger Harry he realized. The nameless teen was in front of him, unmoving, his uniform torn around the bottom. The other Harry was holding the necklace up, a smirk on his face, blood still on his hand.

'This is….' He took a step back. The shadow grabbed his upper arm.

'Look. He's breathing.'

Breathing? Was that true? The shadow released him, and he moved towards the unknown teen. He was even more handsome than Harry remembered.

This is not the time, Harry scolded himself. He forced himself to look at the teen's chest. It was moving.

The scene shattered into hundreds of pieces. Harry waited for the pain he somehow knew would follow, but none came. Instead he found the shadow was gasping beside him on the bed, his hand holding his head.

'W—' Harry winced, the words and energy he'd tried to use not only hitting the same wall he'd encountered that morning but ricocheting back to him.

"I had to close it," the shadow said, between breaths. "Don't try…" He closed his eyes and Harry slapped his hand over the shadow's mouth. He opened his eyes, looking at Harry questioningly.

"The last time you talked out loud, you vanished," he said. "So, don't…" The shadow nodded, his eyes sliding shut again. Harry watched, looking for any sign that the shadow would leave him alone again. It didn't seem like he was going to fade away this time. He watched a short while longer before lowering his head back onto the shadow's chest. To his surprise he could not only hear his breath, but the shadow's heart as well.

(TBC)

I know this took forever.