Chapter 6: Hazy Memories

Harry's lips were cold and numb. The headmaster's recent words were reverberating in his mind: 'Sirius did not wish to remain behind while the others went to search for you... Like the fact that the person Sirius cared most about in the world was you. Like the fact that you were coming to regard Sirius as a mixture of father and brother.'

As Harry thought about these words, he was immersed in memories of Sirius; he was gone from Dumbledore's office, images flickering through his mind in quick succession.

Seeing Sirius for the first time as a grim-like dog in Magnolia Crescent…

"Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor."

"The caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts… to where Harry was…"

"You fly as well as your father did, Harry…"

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle but… well… think about it. Once my name's cleared… if you wanted a… a different home…"

Sirius' features lighting up with a huge smile when Harry had accepted his invitation to live with him.

Defending Sirius from the Dementors… helping him escape on Buckbeak.

"We'll see each other again. You are — truly your father's son, Harry…"

Writing to Sirius when he wanted advice from a parent figure after his dream about Riddle House.

Pouring out his troubles to Sirius just before the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

Visiting Sirius at the Hogsmeade caves with Ron and Hermione.

Sirius, pale and shaking with worry over Harry, waiting for him in Dumbledore's office.

Sirius gripping his shoulder in silent support as Harry recounted the terrible events of the Third Task, defending him in Dumbledore's office and again later in the hospital wing.

Watching Sirius gambol around in his Animagus form on the way to Kings Cross Station.

Sirius belting out 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs' at the top of his lungs.

Sirius listening as he recounted his vision when Arthur Weasley was attacked.

The images continued to flash across his mind bringing with them the feelings he had felt during each; as Harry's heart filled with emotion, he felt as if he were rising out of marshy depths, freed from the clutches of a watery grave.

Through a haze of pain and fatigue, Harry became aware of voices. They sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place them; he only knew that they were important to him.

"…you've got to wake up mate. Hermione has me reading the entire library – I swear I'll die of boredom if she keeps it up… you don't want that on your conscience."

"Oh, honestly Ronald! How can you go on about trivialities like that when Harry's so sick? And three books are not the entire library!" The second voice sounded as if she had a bad head cold.

"Sirius said to act naturally when we talk to him, remind him of the good times we've had."

"It doesn't mean you need to try make him feel sorry for you!"

Footsteps announced the arrival of others. "Arguing again guys?"

"We weren't arguing, Ginny. What are you doing here?" The first voice said rather rudely.

"Watch it Ron, don't make her mad. I just witnessed Ginny's famous Bat-Boogey Hex."

Someone forced a laugh. "What did you do, Neville?"

"Oh it wasn't me; it was Malfoy. He was telling everyone that Harry was on his deathbed and that he always knew the Dark Lord would triumph and all that rot."

"How come he isn't here begging Madam Pomfrey to reverse the spell?"

Ginny and Neville burst out laughing. "He's too ashamed to show his face." Neville choked out. "It was a really powerful Hex. I've never seen anything like it! Luckily, Colin was nearby; I promised to get him Harry's autograph if he took a couple dozen pictures."

Someone shifted uneasily. "Harry won't like that; you know how he despises his fame."

"Hermione, trust me. For a photo like that, Harry would be willing to start his own fan club."

The next thing he knew, the voices were gone, replaced by the sound of a woman's hysterical sobbing and a man's soothing murmur.

"Take it easy, Molly."

"They – they d-didn't even c-care when they h-heard!"

A third voice joined the others. "Who didn't care?"

"Albus told us he went to inform the Dursley's of Harry's condition. They ordered him out of the house, saying they didn't care if 'their freak nephew' died –"

A loud crash sounded through the room as someone leapt to their feet, knocking over a chair. "WHAT?" A man bellowed furiously.

Harry tensed as he heard the voice he thought he'd never hear again. What was going on? Sirius is dead…isn't he? His small movement went unnoticed by his visitors.

"Calm down, Sirius. Let Arthur continue." A slightly hoarse male voice said gently.

"They said that they were safer without Harry intruding on their perfect family."

Someone snorted.

"That wasn't the worst of it. According to Albus, Vernon said, and I quote, 'if the brat shows his miserable face back here, I'll make him wish he were never born!' "

A long silence followed these words, broken only by a loud sniff from Mrs. Weasley.

"Y-you don't think they've hurt him physically?" A soft voice asked brokenly.

Sirius? Was it possible?

A man sighed. "I don't know, Sirius. I never noticed anything unusual when I taught him; he's good at keeping things to himself, so I can't be sure. We'll have to ask him when he wakes up."

"He's always rather thin and quiet at the start of the year. You don't think they…"

"He's not going back to them." Someone insisted adamantly. "Regardless of whether they've hurt him or not. I won't allow it! He deserves so much better than them!"

"Dumbledore wants to speak to you in his office, Sirius."

"But Harry –"

"I'll stay with him until you get back."

"Thanks, Remus."

Once again the voices faded as Harry gave into the welcome comfort of the darkness…

"…absolutely not!" A woman screeched, bringing him to some small degree of wakefulness. "Mr Potter does not need another toilet seat!"

"Yes he does. You confiscated the last one and let's face it, everyone needs one at some point in their life."

"More than a few times in fact."

"Gred makes a valid point."

"Every man and his dog – no offense Sirius, old chap – have given Harry a present."

"What will he think of us –?

"– if we don't get him something –"

"– to express our best wishes –"

"–and spread good cheer?"

"Out!"

"Should we leave his gift just here, then?"

"OUT!"

Another person was bawling beside him, a man this time judging by the sound of the sobs. He blew his nose noisily, sounding remarkably similar to a ship's horn.

"It's all my ruddy fault! I taught yeh abou' the Thestrals. What would yer parents think of me if they knew? Almost gettin' yeh killed all the time! I don' deserve ter be a teacher!"

"Oh Hagrid, that's ridiculous! You're a great teacher. It was our decision to go to the Ministry, not yours. If we hadn't known about Thestrals we would have found another way. We thought Sirius was being tortured by You-Know-Who! Harry wasn't about to ignore that, and we would never have let him go alone. When he wakes up I know he'll tell you the same thing."

There was a loud sniff. "Yer right, Hermione. He'll pull through, he's a strong kid; just like his parents… yeah, he'll beat him again…"