Chapter 8: Unfailing

"Hi, Sirius," Harry said softly. Sirius turned around abruptly.

"Harry! Shouldn't you be…?"

"In school? Yeah, but no one knows I'm here. Don't worry about it."

Sirius nodded slowly. Then he exclaimed, "Harry, I'm glad you're here! I had a dream and I was hoping you could help me with it. I think it's a memory."

"Well, I did read that dreams can be memories or unconscious desires or fears… I did a little reading up on memories before I came," he explained, blushing a little. "Let's hear it."

"Well," Sirius started, "it's a little odd, and impossibly silly, but here goes. I dreamt I was flying, over a bunch of houses and neighborhoods and streets, but that's not the funny thing. I was riding a motorcycle, and it was flying. I know motorcycles don't fly, so what could it possibly mean?"

Harry remembered a similar dream he had when he was young, and what he had overheard from Hagrid in the Three Broomsticks in his third year.

"Sirius… this is the Wizarding World. Motorcycles can fly. That motorcycle was yours. The night my parents were killed, you let Hagrid—Rubeus Hagrid, he's half-giant and about ten feet tall, works at Hogwarts—have your bike. Hagrid flew me on that bike to my aunt and uncle's house when I was a baby. Do you remember anything from that night?"

Sirius shook his head. "Sorry, kid. You explaining is not going to make me remember. Hate to break it to you."

Harry's eyes filled with sparkling tears, but he turned so Sirius couldn't see. "Yeah," he said, remembering Dumbledore's advice. "I know."

"Harry?" Sirius asked incredulously the next morning. "Why are you still here?"

Harry groggily opened his eyes. "Wha-?" he mumbled, lifting his head from the pillow, his cheek creased. "What time is it?"

"Nine A.M."

"Damn!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing his wand. "I wasn't planning to stay overnight…"

"Yeah, I wasn't planning on you doing so, either," Sirius said.

"I guess we both fell asleep, then," Harry said.

"Yeah."

"Well, I really have to get back to school," Harry said, suddenly rushing again. "Bye, Sirius."

"Goodbye," Sirius said. Before he left, Harry noticed Sirius still talked to him without any emotion in his voice.

Sirius walked slowly to his small bookshelf, sitting down with a sigh. He put his head in his hands. He had been aware of the new memory stuff that was supposed to happen, but the thing was that nothing really had. At least nothing had at first, but once Harry started visiting him at St. Mungo's, memories became a little more frequent. A little.

He fingered the spider-plant on the shelf next to him absently. He had no memory of Harry, or Harry's friends, or his own life. It was an odd feeling, knowing that someone knows you very well when you don't even know yourself. That someone knew your whole life when you didn't. That someone had your memories when all you're left with is a blank space.

That's when the spider plant jumped on his neck.

"I'm sorry," whimpered a girl with dark ebony black hair in a dormitory. "I don't remember… I didn't look…"

"Fool," hissed a voice only inside her head. "You will pay for this. You know you will."

"I'm sorry," she cried again. "I didn't know I was supposed to look… honest I didn't…"

"You will just have to go in my place, then," said the voice.

"But I—"

"Shut up! You will go. And then you will pay for your mistake. I am staying up extra late tonight."

The girl shivered, then wrapped herself in layers of blankets and cried.

"I need the room number for Sirius Black," said the seventeen-year-old girl to the witch at the front desk.

The witch stared at her for a minute, then smacked her gum loudly. She ran a long fingernail down a piece of parchment.

"Room 412," she said in a monotone. "Do you need to know what floor that's on?" she mocked.

"No, thank you," the girl said crisply. "I'm not like most other people you meet." Her eyes flashed.

"Um, may I have the room number for Sirius Black, please?" A seventeen-year-old girl asked the witch at the front desk.

"What is this today?" the witch asked after smacking her gum. "Is he really hot or something?"

"Um," said the girl, blushing. "I really couldn't tell you that—"

"Whatever. 412."

"Thank you." The blond witch only stared.

The girl ran to the elevator and stepped off at the fourth floor. She ran to the end of the hall and knocked timidly on the door with 412 on it.

"Sirius?" she called. "Sirius? Are you in there?" There was no answer. "Sirius?" She went down the elevator.

"Excuse me?" The blond witch looked up with a bored expression on her face. "Is Sirius Black supposed to be out of his room for any reason?"

"If a guest is not occupying his or her room at any given moment, you can be sure they are being escorted by one of our Healers or other staff. The only times a guest will be out of their room is during meal time or during a therapy or healing session. There will always be a sign on the door when the guest is not occupying the room. If you would like to be informed of the mealtimes or therapy or healing sessions of your guest, please ask the friendly helper at the front desk," she recited. She looked pointedly at the girl. "That would be me," she said.

"Yes, I, uh... realized that, thank you," said the girl. "So… Sirius doesn't have a sign on his door, and he's not opening it, so—"

"At no time will our guest be unescorted or without a written notice on the door of their room when they are absent from said room."

"Right. So… that means he's inside, then," the girl said.

The blond witch only stared.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," the girl said. "Thank you."

"Sirius?" she called, pounding on the door. "Sirius, where are you?" Still no answer. "Sirius, its Hermione. Open up!" When still she received no response, Hermione tried the handle. Surprised, she turned it and pushed the door open, knowing that rooms are supposed to be locked at all times.

"Sirius?" she called, walking around. "Sirius? Sir—" She stopped abruptly at the next sight that met her eyes.

Sirius lay on the floor, his eyes wide open, not moving.

Adrienne stood above him, looking down. When she saw Hermione gaping at her with an open mouth, she exclaimed, "Hermione! Look, I know this looks bad, but I swear I didn't do it! I just came in and he was… like this."

"And you decided just to stare at him without calling anyone? And why are you visiting Sirius? —You don't even know him! And why are you getting so defensive all of a sudden? And since when do you call a Gryffindor by their first name?"

"Whoa, one question at a time," Adrienne muttered. "Let's go in order, shall we? First, I just got here, and I was in shock just like you were. Second, none of your business. Third, because you were staring at me with an accusing look on your face and lastly, Harry calls you by your first name and I spend a lot of time with him; it just slipped out."

"Harry?" Hermione asked, referring to the first-name issue again. "Never mind," she said quickly. "Hello?" she called, running into the hall. "Help! We need help!"

"He's what?" Harry yelled. "But he can't be unconscious! I just… I mean—"

"Yes Harry, I know you've been to see him," Dumbledore said quietly.

"I'm going to see him! Now!"

"Exactly why I told you, Harry. I was thinking you might like to see him."

"Well… thanks," Harry said awkwardly. "I'm going."

Harry burst through the door of the hospital ward.

"Sirius?" To his surprise, Hermione was already there. "Hermione? What are you doing here?"

"I'll explain later. Sirius was found to be choked by a spider plant… remember fifth year when the same thing happened here? Think they're linked?"

"I… don't know," Harry admitted.

"Here, Hermione. I brought some tea," someone said as they entered the room.

"Adrienne?" Harry asked incredulously. He had expected to be the only one here, one of the people he least expected to be here was present.

"Um… Harry… hi…" Adrienne mumbled to the floor. "I should probably get more tea," she said, quickly leaving the room.

"What's up with her?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "The Healer said Sirius was choked by the plant, and air to his brain was cut off for a long time. They're not sure he'll make it. I'm really sorry," she whispered.

That night, Harry was granted permission to stay with Sirius, being Dumbledore's favorite student. He stayed up all night, talking to his unconscious, not-responding godfather.

"Hi, Sirius… Adrienne was here when I got here… isn't that weird? I wonder why… especially since she told me that she wouldn't come with me.

"My grades have improved after I saw you… oddly enough, they keep going up when I see you. When I don't… I just can't focus in school. I don't sleep at night. Sometimes I do in class, but I usually just zone out during class.

"I'm really happy for you, Sirius. I mean, I'm devastated that you don't remember anything, but you're recovering so well. Dumbledore told me not to get my hopes up, but how can I not? You remembered Azkaban all by yourself, and the girl and the motorcycle all by yourself… I miss you, Sirius. I've been missing you ever since you fell behind the veil. I'm grateful you're alive, but… it's not the same. Please come back, Sirius," Harry said, not sure himself if he meant for Sirius to come out of his coma or for his old self to come back. A lone tear slid down Harry's cheek and landed on Sirius' arm. Harry wiped it away hastily.

"Please."

Harry was back at Hogwarts, eating breakfast alone in his own misery. He hadn't received a word about Sirius' current condition yet, and had seen neither Dumbledore nor Hermione all day.

He and Hermione still hadn't resolved their fight. Harry remembered that Hermione hadn't wanted him to visit Sirius so much, and yet there she was at St. Mungo's. He wondered why she was there when he wasn't. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. It wasn't fair that she said he couldn't go and yet she went. She was being a hypocrite, and Harry hated that. It just made him angrier.

Just then, Hermione came into the Great Hall and headed directly for Harry.

"Harry," she said breathlessly.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

"Come with me," she said.

"Why?"

"Just come." She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the Great Hall and up several flights of stairs, straight to the Room of Requirement.

"Hermione, what—?"

"Look," Hermione said excitedly as she pushed open the door.

"I don't understand—" Harry said, but Hermione pushed him in. Harry gasped.

"Sirius!" he asked incredulously. "You're… you're okay!"

"Apparently," Sirius said, grinning.

"But… why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be at St. Mungo's?" Sirius only looked at Hermione, smiling but saying nothing.

"Well," Hermione explained, "the reason why I was at St. Mungo's this weekend—I'm sure you're wondering—was because… well, I thought about what I said to you, Harry, when you were visiting Sirius a lot. Then I thought about how Sirius tends to remember a lot more when he's with you. So I went to St. Mungo's and talked to the witch and the desk, and… well, you've met her. She didn't really care, so I took Sirius and brought him here."

"But… why?" Harry asked.

"I noticed that Sirius remembers a lot more when you're with him, and you do a lot better in school after you've spent time with him. Besides, the hospital must be lonely. So he's going to stay here now, where you can visit him whenever you want." She smiled slightly, unsure.

Harry stood, processing this information. Then suddenly he threw his arms around Hermione and hugged her tightly.

"Thanks, Hermione."

A/N: So whaddya think? (Oh, and the threat part… don't take it as anything perverse.)

OutofAzkaban

roxygurl25-You're getting the stories mixed up. Yes, things start to unfold…

potts-Thanks for always being, like, my first reviewer! You realize a lot. J

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