A/N: It's a long weekend, I'm a twenty year old college student who has no shifts for the entire three days... Anyone see where this is going? Pray for me come Tuesday because I may not survive the accumulated hangover...
No final edit done due to a lack of sobriety. I'll check back in on tuesday and have another look, so until then!
Ten minutes later, Harry pushed back from the table having had his fill. The cereal had been somewhat stale but Harry had eaten far worse in the tender care of his relatives. Automatically, Harry moved his dishes to the sink where he proceeded to wash them and all the other dirty dishes. Once he was done, Harry was left to wonder what to do.
He had no interest in interrupting John and Bobby. The last thing Harry wanted was another awkward conversation with his father. The man had already made it perfectly clear he intended to dump Harry off on Bobby. And although, so far, Bobby seemed like a good man, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to stick around.
With a heavy sigh, Harry picked up his backpack and headed for the front door. His ankle was still too painful to put much weight on but Harry was able to limp himself quietly out. He was standing on the front porch wondering if he shouldn't just take this opportunity to leave, when his hand was suddenly attacked by something slimy. Turning so quickly he almost over balanced, Harry came face to face with a dog. A dog which was of a similar size to Hagrid's dog, Fang.
"Hello," Harry greeted softly. He patted the great beast of a dog for several minutes. The dog let out a grumbling groan and pushed its large head further into Harry's palm. After a short while, the black and tan dog trotted over to where a dog bed lay, discretely tucked to the side on the porch. The dog looked pitifully back at Harry until the boy limped his way over. After only a short hesitation, Harry lowered himself to sit on the bed beside the dog.
"What's your name, huh?" Harry wondered as he reached for the collar and the dog's neck. A plain, silver, circular tag declared the dog was 'Rumsfeld'. "Rumsfeld, that's your name?" Harry asked. He smiled as the dog gave a rumbling bark. "Guess so."
He wasn't sure exactly how long he stayed sitting there patting his new friend, but it must have been long enough for the pain killer Bobby had given him to truly start taking effect. Harry's limbs grew heavy even as the aching throb that had constantly permeated his body over the last few days faded to be replaced by a gentle tingling. Despite having slept for an undetermined amount of time on the drive here, Harry felt his eyelids begin to droop.
His head fell back against the side of the house with a gentle thump. Harry was already asleep before he had the chance to register the small pain the action brought.
For the first time in several days, Harry dreamt.
His accursed mind spun with flashes of images that made very little sense and were almost immediately forgotten. And then, as they always did now a days, his dreams took him back to that night.
Harry stood beside Sirius on the raised platform. He'd just watched his Godfather send Malfoy Senior flying through the air, ending the duel between them. Harry had been turning to share a grin with Sirius.
"Avada Kedavra!" A feminine voice cried, one Harry recognised as belonging to Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry could hear her clearly even over the din of the others fighting around him.
He could only watch as his Godfather's profile was lit up in the sickly glow of the green curse that hit him. Sirius stumbled back. His wide grey eyes were staring straight at Harry even as the life faded from them. Sirius tipped backwards slowly, so achingly slowly, into the veil.
Harry's feet took him stumbling forward a step. He was sure that any moment Sirius would fall through the other side of the arch. He was so sure. Even when his body didn't appear, Harry had been certain he needed only to pull the veil back to find his Godfather.
Sirius always did love jokes, but, really, now was no time to be hiding. Harry would be sure to tell him so when he found him.
Strong arms wrapped themselves around Harry and stopped him from moving forward. A voice was whispering in his ear, telling him Sirius was gone. But he couldn't be gone. He was just behind the veil. Harry needed only to pull it back and there Sirius would be! Why couldn't they understand? Sirius couldn't be gone! He wouldn't have left Harry. Hewouldn't.
"HARRY!" A gruff voice shouted.
Harry's eyes flew open. And there were still hands holding him, grasping his upper arms too tightly. Harry struggled desperately in the grasp.
He needed to-
He had to-
"SIRIUS!" Harry bellowed. "SIRIUS!" Harry screamed, and he couldn't stop. Not when he could still save him. Because his Godfather couldn't be gone. He couldn't.
But Harry was slowly muddling through the desperation of his dream. And with his return to the land of the conscious, he realised with an awful sinking feeling, that Sirius was gone. He was gone and it was Harry's fault. It was all his fault.
The teen wasn't aware his screams had turned into choked off sobs. He was pulled tight against a broad chest, a hand burying itself in his hair. Harry hid his face into the chest of whoever was holding him as tears spilled from his eyes.
"My fault. All my fault." Harry whimpered pathetically.
Sirius.