Author's note- Inspired by the song Sleeping Sickness by City and Colour.
(There is a great Harry Potter fanvid on youtube by Creator OpalToad with this song. It's amazing)
Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 7
Madness Fills my Heart and Soul
Harry Sat on Sirius' bed and looked around the room. The first time in here he had learned so much about himself. He felt like a different person leaving this room. He had laid in his bed that night and not slept a wink. He was a different person on the inside. There was truly a version of himself that was just Harry. He hadn't shared any of his and Sirius conversation with Ron and Hermione. He decided to keep the Animagus information under wraps for now. It felt nice to have something just between him and Sirius. Almost like a father son project. He had never had anything like that.
As for the Metamorphmagus abilities he didn't want to put on a performance for them. After watching Tonks at dinner, he was sure he would have become a spectacle. He was happy with his Boy-who-lived mask. He had thought a lot that night about how he thought that might have come about. He suspected that he continued to change when he was left with the Dursleys. However, such unnaturalness wouldn't have been allowed to last long and he had probably suppressed it in order to not incur his relative's wrath.
Harry thought about last year's trip to Gringotts. He had slipped away from the Weasleys at the bank and talked to a goblin and was given his potter Heir ring. He would be able to claim the Lordship ring following his seventeenth birthday.
Harry ran his finger over the disillusioned rings on his left hand. He felt bad hiding so many big things from his friends, but he supposed he always had.
Harry had felt the second heartbeat the first time he had cast the Animagus spell. He had practiced all year but was never near a storm. He had practiced a lot over the school year to be able to cast it wandlessly. He didn't want to lose his progress if his wand was taken over the summer.
Harry listened to the pitter patter of the rain on the window. If he was lucky maybe tonight would be the night.
Harry got up from the bed leaving his cloak on the bed and opened his bag and retrieved his trunk. Whispering the cancelation spell his trunk resized. Harry popped the lid open and moved a few things around. He hoped to buy a new trunk this year with more space. It wasn't a bad starter trunk, but it wasn't meant to live out of which harry supposed he was doing now.
Harry walked to Sirius's desk and looked through the books and papers. Sirius and Remus had helped Harry, and his friends learn some wandless magic and Hermione had been hooked on wizarding law. Harry had read lots about Healing and Defense and when he and Sirius were alone, they learned more about Metamorphmagi and Animagi. Sirius had also been giving Harry etiquette lessons and other information he would have learned as the Potter Heir if he had been raised with his parents.
Harry collected all the books and notes off the table. Harry raised his eyebrow at some of the other books on the table. It looked like transfiguration and Charms text. Harry collected them all and put them in his trunk. He opened the drawers and found a stack of letters and photographs. He shuffled through them quickly. He felt mixed about taking them. Many of them were letters he had sent to Sirius but not all of them. There were a few from Dumbledore, James, Lily, Remus and someone named Andi. Shrugging his shoulders, he found a safe place for them in the trunk as well. He worried the Order would come in and go through Sirius' things and he wanted to hold on to as much of the man as possible.
Harry opened the wardrobe and saw Sirius' black leather jacket. Most of Harry's photos of Sirius he was wearing it. He would take it. He pulled it from the hanger and laid it at the end of the bed. He then moved over to the wall above the bed. He knew he couldn't take any of these photos. Sirius had told him that like his mother's portrait they had permanent sticking charms on them to keep his mother from ripping them down. He just looked and appreciated how young and happy they all looked.
Harry walked to the door and entered the room across the hall. Sirius had said it was his brother's room. Regulus had died young. Sirius had very mixed emotions about the whole situation. He couldn't bring himself to go in that room or let Mrs. Weasley clean it out for another spare. So it had just stayed empty. Sirius Had told Harry that he wanted to clear it out and make it a room for Harry that maybe they could make it a project. However, that never happened. Sirius had told Harry that if there was anything in the room that he wanted he could take it.
Harry had felt strange about the situation but now he was about to be on the run. He might as well see if there was anything of use. The room to Harry seemed like the opposite of Sirius' room which felt loud and chaotic. This room was tidy and clean. It even looked like Kreacher had dusted. There wasn't a thing out of place. The room had a cold feeling to it that was only intensified by the dark colors. While the whole house felt dark this room seemed to hold a special kind of cool darkness like the Slytherin common room. It had some Slytherin memorabilia on the wall just like Sirius had Gryffindor, but it was all very neat.
Harry moved to the trunk that was at the end of the bed. It was black and green with wide leather straps. He quickly opened the trunk. It was filled with the usual Hogwarts student items. Uniforms (Slytherin) textbooks, cauldron, telescope, potions kit and various small items collected over the years.
Harry picked up one of the textbooks. There were no notations or anything to make them more useful than the ones already in his trunk. Just standard books.
Harry moved to the wardrobe. Perhaps there would be some robes that would fit. Sirius had said they were similar builds. As he leafed through the dated clothing, he came across a deep green set of dueling robes. They were beautiful. He pulled them from the hanger and swung them around his shoulders. Pushing his arms through the sleeves and pulling the collar strait he looked into the mirror.
Harry gasped. He didn't think he had ever worn anything so fine. They were lightweight but clearly made of durable materials. He looked stunning. He looked like a warrior in them.
Harry bit his lip. He hadn't changed in a long time, but he wondered what 'just Harry' would look like in these robes. He could see the 'savior' headed into battle in these robes but could 'just Harry' do the job.
Harry took a deep breath and allowed his true form to come out. He had grown a lot over the last year. Unfortunately, not much had gone into height. His face had become a little sharper and he was noticing the edge of stubble beginning to form on his chin. His nose was softer in this form and his mouth looked fuller. He gave himself a smirk in the mirror and saw the dimples that did not appear in his other form. He didn't know why but this form made him so much happier. He wished he could be this person. The robes did look good.
Biting his lip again he shifted back to boy-who-lived form. Quickly pulling the robes off he laid them on the bed. He would definitely take them. Digging to the bottom of the wardrobe He found a wand holster. That would be handy. Mad-eye had told him as much when he had been collected last year from Privet Drive with his wand sticking out of his back pocket. The rest of the clothing was just too old. Harry would make an effort to buy some new clothes at some point. Maybe. He didn't need them he supposed. It felt greedy to ever just want something. He would leave the matter for later.
Harry moved on to the desk. He found several books on the dark arts. He wondered if having a better understanding of the dark arts would help him fight them. Gathering the books and two journals from the top of the desk he opened the drawers. The top drawer only held old parchment and quills. The second drawer had random boxes of candy, decks of cards and owl treats in it. The bottom drawer had some sort of locking spell on it.
Harry's brows furrowed. He could feel something familiar radiating from the drawer. He needed to get in there. Holding his hand to the drawer Harry thought about it unlocking and a moment later heard a click. The drawer only held an old ornate locket with a snake on the front. He could see the dark magical aura radiating from it. It was familiar too. He hadn't learned much about aura's but after entering the wizarding word he had realized magical people and things had them. He mostly tuned the information out as background noise. But this aura he had seen and felt before.
He didn't dare touch it. He collected a black monogrammed handkerchief from the top of the desk and carefully grabbed the chain. There was definitely something about this necklace. Harry just couldn't put his finger on what it was. Looking around the room he found a small box and dropped the locket in it. Harry quickly cast a locking spell on the box that only he could undo. He felt sure he needed to take the locket. Once the box was closed the feeling ebbed. It was certainly dark magic. If felt slimy and gritty at the same time.
Harry continued a quick search of the room but found nothing else of interest. He collected the holster, books, notes, box and dueling robes and returned to Sirius' room. Harry laid everything at the end of the bed and began to make an effort to shove everything into his trunk. As Harry went to put the box and Dark arts books in his trunk Harry decided it might be wise to bury them at the bottom just to be safe.
As Harry's hand moved to the bottom his fingers brushed the box Sirius had given him the year before. It held the vial of potion that would help him find his Animagus form. Harry pulled it to the top and as he held it he heard a clap of thunder.
"No way!" Harry exclaimed.
He turned around and looked out the window. Sure enough the light rain from earlier was now a storm. Harry had waited most of a year for this storm.
Harry quickly pulled off his clothing and his glasses and stood in just underpants. He didn't want to stand around completely naked, but Sirius said that the first transformation would be painful and the less things on the body the better.
Harry pulled the vial from the box and walked over to the mirror by the wardrobe. He could almost see Sirius standing next to him. With a long sigh He pulled the stopper out.
"Amato Animo Animato Animagus" Harry recited for what he hoped would be the last time and took the mouthful of blood red potion.
Harry felt a fiery pain rip through his body and dropped the vial in his hand. He could feel the second heartbeat even more intensely than he ever had before.
Harry closed his eyes and waited for his animal. The wolfdog appeared to him. It was comforting. He should have known this protector would be his form. Harry began to feel his body shift.
It took a few moments but then he was looking down at black paws. His heart was pounding but mostly with excitement. He had done it. He turned to observe himself in the mirror. He was magnificent. He had a long silk black coat with some white markings around his shoulders. He thought they looked nice. Although he thought they may have lined up with his oldest scars on his back from his uncle Vernon. He was thankful to note that he didn't have any markings on his face. No lightning bolt scar or markings where his glasses would sit.
Harry yipped at his reflection and his tail wagged like it had a mind of its own. Harry felt very aware of his senses. It would be something to investigate later. He wasn't sure how Sirius with his heightened senses was able to stay in this house. How could Remus. werewolf senses were even more intense.
Harry pawed at his nose and with a doggy sneeze looked back at his reflection.
His tail was slightly bushy but less so than a full wolf like Remus. Despite Muggle movies werewolves really just looked like wolves when they transformed. The only way to truly tell the difference was their eyes. They had a specific yellow or red glow to them.
Harry loved that he looked like padfoot mostly. He was also thankful that despite his obvious wolf-like traits he still looked like a dog. He would not be so obvious walking in the streets. He was pretty big but could easily be mistaken for other types of dogs at a glance. His green eyes were striking against his dark fur.
He looked like a perfect mix of Padfoot and Moony. He felt like he was starting to develop the relationship he would have had with them in a different life. A life where his parents hadn't died. Where his uncles spirited him away for weekend adventures. It was a life he had long ago stopped dreaming of. He looked like there pup now.
The brief joy came to an abrupt halt when he remembered. Sirius was dead. He would never see Harry in this form. They would never run under the full moon all together. His tail stopped wagging and he let out a pitiful whine. Circling once he laid down with a huff and rested his head on his paws.
After a few moments adjusting to the new form, he pushed himself back up on all fours and concentrated on transforming back. The transformation was quick. Harry wondered if it was because He had already mastered his Metamorphmagus abilities the feeling was somewhat similar.
Harry shifted a few times back and forth just to make sure he had the idea. It seemed pretty straight forward. He took a moment to feel proud of his accomplishment before he was shocked by the sight of his wand laying amongst his discarded clothing. Most wizards required their wand for the Animagus transformation. At least starting out, but once again Harry had completed complex magic without a wand.
Harry looked at his hands and pondered briefly but ultimately it was a question for later.
Harry caught another look at himself in just his pants in the mirror. He had several large deep bruises. They would take weeks to heal. He also had bandages on both arms from accidents earlier in the day. His body was covered in marks and scars. And his underfed form was already looking skeletal this early in the summer. He looked horrid. He sneered at his reflection and turned away.
Harry took a deep breath and quickly dressed, hiding the proof of his freakishness. He had tried to hide the marks with the metamorphmagus transformations, but it wasn't possible. Harry had learned from one of the books that no damage could be fixed with the ability. It did beg the question as to how he had improved his sight, but that question seemed to remain unanswered. He walked to the bed and laid down. He felt exhausted. He couldn't stay much longer but he suspected he could get away with an hour of rest. Harry caught sight of the clock on the wall. It was three thirty now. Sunrise was still a little over an hour away.
Harry closed his eyes and listened to the light patter of rain and the distant rumble of thunder.
Harry woke with a scream. His body was shaking, and his eyes darted around the room. The room was illuminated with another brilliant flash of lightning. The booming thunder shook the whole house. The storm must be right over the top of the house.
Harrys eyes adjusted to the dark room. His thoughts spinning through the nightmare he had been startled awake from. It had the normal beats of his nightmares. Cedric, Sirius, Uncle Vernon, Voldemort, The graveyard and the Ministry. This time He had been standing in Dumbledore's office being told the prophecy and then dragged to face Voldemort by Dumbledore. Harry couldn't remember more. The nightmare began to fade the longer he was awake.
Harry winced as he moved off the bed. His body was stiff. He had been through a lot in the last day. He hobbled down the hall to the bathroom. He would allow himself a five-minute shower. Who knew the next time he'd get one once he left here. If no one had shown up by now, he felt comfortable loitering a little longer. Harry turned the water on and held his hand under the spray. He was thankful that someone in the Order had updated two of the bathrooms to include showers. As lovely as a long soak in the tub sounded he knew he didn't have that kind of time.
When the water was the right temperature Harry stripped off his clothing. He avoided catching his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He slowly and carefully unwrapped his damaged arms. He noticed that the wound from the gardening accident had begun to heal. It would be an ugly scar but if he was gentle with it, he doubted it would open again. He'd look in the pantry for some healing salve before he left.
His right arm was still a little sticky with blood from the kitchen knife. But He thought he could probably get away with just some salve on it too. He healed pretty quickly. This was a cleaner cut although it was nearly a mirror in length and placement on his other arm.
Harry held the bloody bandages in his hand and incanted "Incendio."
He dumped the ash in the shower and watched it swirl in the running water, then disappear down the drain.
Harry had seen what could be done with a wizards blood in someone else's hands. Harry shivered as he drew a finger along a long scar higher on his arm. His brain flickered to the graveyard.
Stepping into the water he let it wash away his thoughts. He allowed his occlumency barriers drop and all the horrid moments of the last day flooded into him. He wanted to sob. But he didn't even know if his body even made tears anymore. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to cry. He turned the hurt to anger. Anger at Voldemort for killing his parents. Anger at Dumbledore for dumping him with the Dursleys over and over again. Anger at Aunt Petunia for never caring. Anger at Uncle Vernon for his cruelty. Anger at all the people in the muggle world who had taken advantage of him. Anger at all the people in the wizarding world who held him on a pedestal and waited for him to save them. Anger At both worlds for never seeing the pain and the desperate need for help.
Harry could feel his skin crawl at the filth his uncle had hissed into his ear earlier. It reminded him too much of words spoken to him when he was much younger. Hands of another that touched his body despite his pleas.
Harry turned the water hotter, until the water felt it was going to boil his skin. He scrubbed hard with the washcloth and soap. He wished he could wash away memories. His anger continued to egg on his scrubbing. His anger felt endless in that moment.
Slowly the anger did begin to fade, and a wave of shame and guilt replaced it. He deserved all of this. He deserved everything that had happened. He had deserved to be left in this world alone. He had cost his parents their lives. He had gotten Cedric killed, and Sirius. Sirius was all his fault. He had been given a gift in the form of Sirius. He had been given a glimpse of happiness, of help, of care. And he had led him right into Voldemort's trap.
Harry's stomach rolled at that thought. He needed to leave. To escape this house and its memories. He could not stay in the shower and continued to feel sorry for himself.
Turning off the water Harry grabbed a towel and harshly wiped his raw flesh. He was blotchy and red everywhere. But the scrubbing hadn't made any kind of a difference. He still felt disgusting. He wrapped the towel around his waist and made it back to Sirius room. He pulled out clean clothing from his trunk. It was grossly oversized for his petite frame but it's what he had. His hopes of finding something in Regulas' room to wear had been a wash. It was all wizarding robes and that wouldn't do. He needed clothing that would help him blend into muggle London.
Harry pulled on his pants, socks, and trousers and then wondered over to Sirius wardrobe. Harry vaguely remembered there being a stack of t-shirts at the bottom. Even if they were old, they were likely closer to his size then the oversized rags living in his trunk.
Sure enough harry found the t-shirts. They looked to be vintage band t-shirts for the most part. Harry allowed a small smile. He had never seen Sirius in something so casual. However, the majority of the old photos out of his uniform he was always wearing a t-shirt.
Harry grabbed the stack and set it on the bed. He tossed on the top shirt and gave it a once over. It smelt a little musty but not terrible. It was a faded black and proclaimed loudly 'led Zepplin' across the chest. Harry thought he had heard of the band but having not been allowed to enjoy any form of entertainment most of his life he was unfamiliar with most bands…and shows…and movies to be honest. He had found entertainment hidden away in the library.
Harry looked down at his warn trainers and slipped them on his feet. His first purchase would be shoes. That was for certain. He had very little money on him. A few pound notes he had saved from doing Dudley's laundry and a few sickles left from last years trip to Gringotts. He wouldn't risk Diagon Alley until late summer. He knew there would be too many eyes looking for him.
He sighed once again. Then neatly as possible put everything he had collected from the house into his trunk. He plucked one of the pies from the box from the Weasleys and shoved it in his mouth. He couldn't honestly remember the last thing he had eaten. A stale sandwich with nothing but expired peanut butter two days ago, he thought. He savored the flavor and took one last look around the room.
Harry's eyes roamed over the photos on the wall once more. His gaze caught on a photo he hadn't noticed before in a frame on the side table. Remus was sitting on the arm of Sirius' chair. As the wizarding photo moved Sirius grabbed Remus around the waist and pulled him into his lap. Remus blushed and had a little smirk on his face. Their eyes met in a loving gaze. Then they looked into the camera and smiled. Sirius face got slightly closer and kissed Remus on the cheek before the cycle started again.
Harry blushed darkly. He never knew how to feel seeing public displays of affection. Then his mind really caught up to what he was seeing. Sirius and Remus. He could see that special spark in their eyes that he only ever saw in classmates who had fallen hard for one another. Harry blushed more. How had he never noticed. They clearly loved each other. Harry had always put it down to a close friendship like the one he shared with Ron and Hermione. But that wasn't it. They were a couple. Or at least they had been then. He guessed from the photo it was some time after Hogwarts but before Sirius had gone to Azkaban.
Harry's head spun with that new information. They were definitely still together. Harry's mind supplied the way they had sat together while working with Harry and his friends over the hols. Other things began to fall into place. The little glances and touches they shared. Harry's face split into a wide grin. Then his heart broke more then he thought possible.
Harry hadn't just cost Remus the last of his friends. He had cost him his partner. The pain squeezed Harry's heart. Harry realized at that thought he hadn't just lost Sirius. He had lost Remus too. Remus would never forgive him. Words from third year rang in his head about his actions being a poor way to repay his parents' sacrifice. It was true. He had been selfish with his want for companionship. For friendship. For family. He knew how to be on his own. The wizarding world had offered things so easily and it allowed Harry to become greedy. He needed to pull away from them all before he got someone else killed. He was a magnet for death. His heart jolted at that. Snape!
Harry had nearly forgotten what had set this whole evening into motion. He felt like he was going mad. He would be calm one moment and then ill with grief and anxiety the next. He knew to many things were going on and his mind was just a jumble. Hopefully leaving his relatives and avoiding the wizarding world for a while would help settle his mind.
His vision of Snape being tortured. Harry felt like he was going to throw up the pie he had just eaten. Despite having visions all year from Voldemort's point of view he would never not feel sickened by it. He hoped he had gotten his message to Dumbledore in time.
"Did I get someone else killed already?" Harry whispered dejectedly into the dark room.
With a sigh he continued his note. He hoped it would convince the order not to come looking for him. With a quick scribble he signed his name to the bottom and folded the paper in half. He would leave it on the kitchen table when he went to look for healing salve. It was always the center of this gloomy old house. Someone would come here eventually and that would be the best place to leave something he wanted found.
Quickly Harry locked his trunk and dropped it in his bag. With the storm brewing outside he worried his bag would get wet so he then shrunk the bag too and placed it in his pocket. He grabbed the wand holster he had left out and secured it to his forearm. It seemed to be good quality. Harry waved his hand over it, and it became disillusioned like his rings. He really was starting to get the hand of this wandless magic. He knew something must have changed and he hoped that the answer would be in one of the books he had just pilfered.
Once that was in place he stepped in front of the mirror. He needed to change his appearance. He knew his Boy- who- lived appearance would draw to much attention. Harry cocked his head to the side. Who did he want to be while on the run. A small smile crept up his face as he remembered Sirius telling him about running away. He let that feeling of warmth fill his chest for a moment.
Harry's hair once again grew and held light waves. He allowed his eyes to shift to grey. He also forced more magic into his eyes and then removed his glasses. He felt a little cheated that he hadn't known sooner that he could have fixed his own eyes. He had relied on cheap and frequently broken glasses for most of his life. The prescription wasn't right anyway.
He felt adding to his height might make him clumsy, so he left his body alone. He looked in the mirror and winked like Sirius used to do. He looked like he could be Sirius son. He wished he had gotten to know him more. The look of love from the photos warmed him more. He had once been something precious to someone. He had once been part of a family. He had ruined all of that.
Swallowing the lump in his throat he shrugged on Sirius leather jacket. It was a little big but fit surprisingly well.
Harry's lightning bolt scar was mostly covered by the longer hair. He raised his hand and touched it. This mark had defined his whole life. He was nothing more than a symbol to the wizarding world. A symbol of Voldemort's murder of his parents and subsequent down fall. He would never be just Harry. He would always be the boy-who-lived, Freak, boy, James' son, the hero, the mistake, the burden. Marked as his equal.
Harry felt a little sick as the prophecy ran through his head again. He would kill Voldemort. Even if it was the last thing he did. He didn't want to be here anymore, anyway. He hoped that they would go out together. End all of this at once. The suffering of the Wizarding world and Harry's suffering at once. Harry didn't think even if he somehow defeated Voldemort and survived, he wanted to live past it.
With one last deep breath Harry threw up his occlumency shields. He needed to keep it in place. He wasn't sure where he would go from here, but he could no longer allow his emotions to cloud his judgement. He felt that he had truly been on a rollercoaster ride.
The future was uncertain. His life was uncertain, but he had spent most of his life living with uncertainty. Would he have food? Would there be pain. Would he ever be anything to anyone? Entering the wizarding world had been even more uncertain. Uncertain of who to trust. Uncertain how to behave. The wizarding world loved to talk about him. Yet, only a few knew him, but it was a masked version of him.
Harry made his way swiftly to the kitchen and tended to his arms and left the letter in the middle of the table. He then made his way silently out the front door once again wrapped in the invisibility cloak. The sun was just starting to cast a pink glow on the sky and the rain had stopped. He made his way down the walk and then back the way he had come from. Harry nearly gasped as he caught sight of Bill Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt stepping out of the alley, he had originally showed up in.
"Can you believe that?" Bill said in a hushed tone.
"No, But Albus says he'll make it. You really think we've got another rat?" Kingsley questioned raising an eyebrow to Bill as they walked closer to Harry.
Harry felt his heart pound. Were they talking about Snape? Had he survived?
"I don't know. Maybe. I can't see Snape getting sloppy." Bill replied with a look of concentration.
Harry nearly snorted as they walked past him. Harry couldn't see Snape doing anything sloppy. Ever. He was perhaps the neatest person Harry had ever met outside of Aunt Petunia.
Harry's heart felt a little lighter knowing that Snape was alive. He didn't think he could hold the weight of another death on his shoulders right now. He and Snape had a mutual hatred that Harry had never fully understood. Snape, like the Dursley's seemed to hate him on first sight. However, Snape, despite his hatred of Harry had saved him several times. Perhaps this would start to make up for it. Probably not. Snape would still hate him.
If Harry was being honest with himself, he couldn't truly hate anyone. Except Voldemort and his death eaters. He hated them. But mostly he hates himself. He had long ago turned those feelings of anger and hatred inward. The times in which he expressed his anger outward always just left him hurt or with roiling guilt.
Taking another deep breath, he promised to put Snape on the list of things to think about later. For now, he needed to make a plan. And with that he set off into London for a walk.