Chapter 15: A Precarious Hold

"It's been eight hours and there's still no change," said Sirius anxiously to Madam Pomfrey. "Surely he should have woken up by now."

They stood on the second floor landing outside Harry's door, which they'd left ajar.

"He's exhausted, poor boy. It's not entirely unexpected for him to sleep for so long." The matron looked at him sympathetically. "Although you have to understand, he was under the Cruciatus Curse twice in under half an hour. Both for prolonged amounts of time. If one was performed by You-Know-Who as you said… and so soon after the first… well, there's no guarantee he'll ever completely recover. It is possible that it might have been too much. His mind might be damaged."

The words hit like a crashing fist, knocking the breath out of him. "He can't be…" he whispered.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," she said kindly, "but it's better to be prepared in case he turns out to be insa –"

"No!" Sirius said desperately.

"I've done all I can for now," Madam Pomfrey said softly. "If it's okay with you I might go downstairs for a brief break. Call out if you need me."

"No, not Harry! I've just got him back, I can't lose him again…" He wanted to do something; the inaction and feelings of uselessness were overpowering him. He had to act, had to help Harry.

Remus, who had been standing quietly beside Sirius throughout the conversation, now spoke up, "Sirius, calm down."

Sirius found his voice was shaking, as were his knees. He moved over to the wall and leant against it, trying to master himself.

"She said before that it's more likely he's just exhausted his energy supplies. Sleeping is good for him; he'll probably be awake in another hour demanding you quit mothering him."

Sirius snorted. "After all this, I think I'm entitled to worry. He'll sit there and put up with it."

"I can't see that happening, he's almost as stubborn as you… although it does sound rather entertaining to watch. Can I stay for the show?"

"Remus, this is serious."

His friend shrugged. "It almost made you smile. You're no help to Harry if you don't look after –"

He was cut off by a harsh cry of pain from Harry's room.

Harry woke up so sore and stiff that he didn't open his eyes, wanting to fall back asleep to escape the discomfort that consciousness brought. The room was dimly lit; he was sure it was morning, which meant he must have been asleep for a while. He could hear voices by his door holding a whispered conversation; they sounded tired and agitated. Snatches of dialogue reached him.

"…eight hours… no change…"

"He's exhausted… have to understand… prolonged… no guarantee… damaged…"

"… better… prepared… insa–"

"No!… no, not Harry!" The voice had a definite note of panic.

No, not Harry! The words echoed through his mind. He'd heard that before… but this time the voice saying it was different, a man's voice. He struggled to place it, but his head hurt too much; instead, he contented himself by lying still and listening to the voices.

"… calm down," said a third voice soothingly, "She said… exhausted… demanding…"

"… entitled to… put up with it."

"I can't see… stubborn as you… entertaining to watch…"

"Remus, this is serious."

Sirius.

Harry opened his eyes and tried to sit up. White-hot pain sliced through his body and he fell back, a sharp cry escaping his lips unbidden. He was still trying to catch his breath when his door burst open and two men sprinted in. Sirius perched gingerly on the bed; Remus stood slightly behind him.

"Harry, what day is it?" said Sirius urgently, looking slightly crazed.

Harry blinked, disconcerted by the odd question, not to mention the manner it was posed. The shafts of shooting pain had settled to a dull throb, making it easier to think.

He thought his godfather was off his rocker.

"What day is it?" Sirius repeated anxiously, bordering on hysterically.

Harry stared at his godfather for a moment before switching his gaze to Remus. "So he's finally lost it then? Can't say it comes as a shock."

Perhaps it was the effect of hours of tension, or perhaps Remus genuinely found that statement funny because he roared with laughter. "No, Harry. He's just checking you're… er… not delirious."

Everything clicked into place. "You mean checking that I'm not insane?"

Sirius blanched and shakily attempted to smooth Harry's hair.

"You know that's useless, don't you?" Harry said softly, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked somewhat; Sirius managed a small smile, but the next second his eyes turned concerned. "Are you still in pain? Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Too hot? Too cold? Hungry? Thirsty?" He gripped Harry's arm tightly.

"Sirius, if you start your fussing I'm going to kick you out." Harry said tiredly, effectively dodging all the questions.

"Oh, right… sorry," said Sirius in a tone that could almost be called meek.

Remus sent him a significant look. "He'll sit there and put up with it," he quoted so only Sirius could hear. "Yes, I can see that." Aloud he said, "I'm going downstairs to let everyone know Harry's okay."

Harry groaned. "How many?"

"Just a few," answered Remus evasively. "Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and myself.

A crash sounded from the room below.

"Tonks," Sirius supplied helpfully.

Two small explosions shook Harry's bedroom floor in quick succession; they were followed by a startled shriek and a torrent of insults.

Remus flinched. "The twins and Ginny."

"… and Molly," Sirius added as a woman's angry voice drowned out a third explosion.

Hurried footsteps sounded on the staircase; two voices were holding a whispered argument that grew clearer as they approached.

"And Hermione and Ron," finished Remus as two sets of eyes peeked nervously around the door.

Sirius chuckled. "You can come in, he's awake and already complaining. I'd say that's a good sign."

Hermione pushed open the door and entered, Ron right on her heels. Both of them looked pale and drawn.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Sirius, he is okay, isn't he? Oh, he's just got to be, I could hardly stand it if he was – but that just couldn't happen, it's too horrible. Shouldn't Madam Pomfrey be up here?" she fretted.

"Yes, yes and no," Harry said quietly, smiling at them wearily.

Sirius frowned as he recalled the presence of the matron downstairs. "Yeah, she should…"

"I'll go," Remus offered, remembering his original plan.

"Sirius…"

"No, Harry, don't protest. She will come up here and make sure you really are okay. I don't really trust your own assessment of –"

"Sirius," said Harry again.

"Not listening. Now, as i was saying –"

Rolling his eyes, Harry tugged at his arm. "I wasn't against her coming up, it's just… you're squeezing my arm too tight. I really don't want it to drop off from having no circulation. How'd you explain that to Madam Pomfrey?"

"Sorry," said Sirius, letting go of Harry's arm as if it were scalding hot. Once again he was looking at Harry as if the slightest movement would send him plunging into the realms of death. It was a bit annoying.

"You know, I'm sort of hungry," Harry said slowly. "I reckon I could manage some soup."

His godfather jumped up so fast he knocked into Hedwig's cage. She let out a loud squawk and ground her beak in annoyance. "Oops, sorry, Hedwig." he apologized, trying to straighten the cage while she nipped at him through the bars. "I'll be right back," he promised, darting out the door.

"Take your time," Harry called out huskily. To Ron he said jokingly, "Quick, go down there and nick his wand so he has to make it by hand. When he comes back he might have calmed down a bit."

Ron managed a nervous laugh. "He could give Mum real competition!"