Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your support, and your condolences. I am feeling loads better now. All your messages really touched me.
Lucy, I know what you mean. I am so incredibly sorry for your losses as well. You're right - the more you grieve for someone, the more you loved them. My brother was truly wonderful.
I'm glad you all enjoyed the last chapter. I actually wrote the poem The Circle about the person whom Sturgis is based off of - it describes his influence in my life. Therefore, it made sense to have some of the members of the Order sing it to Sturgis. The person who he's based on also overworks himself to the point of burnout. And then he's had to actually take time off because of it. It's only really been the occasional day, but I very much worry for him sometimes.
As far as the Horcruxes are concerned, I take your points but somewhat disagree with them. I honestly think that Horcruxes are such a restricted topic that no one really knows a lot about them. After all, when many of Dumbledore's supporters believed that Voldemort hadn't actually died on Halloween 1981, no one thought to say: Oh, he must have created a Horcrux. That's why he's immortal. Yet no one says that in canon. The only exceptions are, of course, Dumbledore, and Horace Slughorn. How he found out about them is anybody's guess - he, after all, was the one Tom Riddle went to to ask. I'm curious as to why Tom thought Slughorn would know anything about them.
Yes, the Order are there to help Harry, and now, the more seasoned members know more about what's going on. I love stories where he has a ton of support, and I'm glad I'm able to write one of my own.
And, oh my goodness, I absolutely love when I get new reviewers. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. I appreciate your comments so much, and I really hope I continue to meet your expectations.
This chapter was a long time coming. That's all I'll say about it other than: I hope you enjoy it.
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He had been wondering how long it would be until Voldemort's next brutal, horrific attack. Ever since the events of the night of August 31 and the early morning of September 1, he had no doubt that it would come. He would not allow the monster to lull him into a false sense of security. He cherished each night that passed without another slaughter.
But as Harry awoke gasping and crying out, he knew the reprieve had finally ended. Just like he had the last time, he felt slimy, filthy, dirty. Violated. Used. Disgusting. Revolting.
The carnage was gruesome, and Harry had felt every moment of the pleasure oozing off Voldemort as he and his Death Eaters began attacking random Muggles. There was no rhyme or reason to it - it was for sport, for entertainment, for fun. They did it simply because they felt like it. It wasn't to achieve any goal - it was, honestly, their horrific version of "letting off steam".
The screams were unbearable. They were full of such pain, of such fear. The Muggles didn't understand what was happening - why would they? They might know what magic was, but to them, it only existed in fairy tales. And those fairy tales were of enchanting beauty, of princesses who were saved from their evil stepsisters by princes who put glass slippers on them. Magic wasn't about eradicating those whom the monsters thought were lesser simply because they didn't possess the same powers. Muggle fairy tales didn't include an evil wizard barging into a happy, peaceful home, torturing and murdering everyone inside. Their magic didn't involve a mother being hit with the Imperius Curse and being forced to hurt her own six-year-old daughter, the little girl's screams and the laughter and catcalls of the Death Eaters becoming a terrible, discordant melody.
"Harry? Harry?"
It was then that Harry realized he was being held. Sirius. Sirius was here. And just like what had happened the last time, Harry scrambled away and puked over the side of the bed, that little girl's screams still ringing in his ears.
"Oh God, Harry." After the boy was finished, Sirius gathered him close again, and he sounded completely stricken. "Was it ... was it Voldemort?" he asked gently.
"Y-yes." Harry's voice shook. "I ... I saw everything ... again. Sirius, we have to do something. He and the Death Eaters ... they're attacking random Muggles. They're killing them - and it's still going on."
Yes, even though there were many similarities, there was something very different about Harry's experience. The last time this had happened, he hadn't been able to wake up for anything, not until it was all over and no one could be saved. This time, however, the attack had only been going on for about thirty minutes before he was able to wake up. He had still been experiencing all of Voldemort's emotions, but somehow, there was more of Harry that was mentally alert. Wake up, he had kept telling himself. Wake up. Wake up.
Was it the Occlumency lessons? He was pretty damn terrible at the art, but what else could explain this? Moody had said he was improving, and even though Harry didn't feel that way ... could it be true? How had he been able to escape from Voldemort's mind?
Harry felt wretchedly ill, the horror of what he'd seen swimming before his eyes. But that didn't matter. Muggles were dying and he needed to do something. He sat up very suddenly, and there was urgency in his tone when he spoke. "Sirius, we have ... have to call the Order," he stammered out, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. "Will ... will McGonagall still be awake right now? What time is it?"
"It's one o'clock in the morning." Sirius's quiet, fearful voice sounded. A second later, his eyes widened in realization. "Kiddo, do you know where he's attacking?"
"I ... I do. I saw the address of the last house they were at." He revealed it to Sirius instantly - it was in Brixton, London. One of the Death Eaters had said so. How he had the capacity to think when everything inside him was spinning was a mystery - but he had to save as many people as he could. Each second of hesitation would only lead to more torture, more screams, more deaths. "Please," he whispered desperately. "They have to be stopped."
Immediately, Sirius removed his wand from his pocket and closed his eyes. Harry was about to ask him what he was doing, but it was revealed a moment later when he shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"
Harry watched as a huge black dog came thundering out of his wand. He was shocked when Sirius started speaking to it like one would speak to their owl. "Minerva McGonagall. Voldemort and the Death Eaters are attacking a house in Brixton. They're killing Muggles randomly." Quickly, he gave the address that Harry had told him. The dog looked at him for several seconds before bounding away and subsequently vanishing.
There were a few seconds of profound silence after the dog disappeared. Harry couldn't help but be amazed by the fact that a Patronus could be used for communication. He would have asked Sirius more about that phenomenon, but the shakiness he had felt a minute ago returned full-force. There was nothing left to do now, was there? Nothing but sit and hope that McGonagall and the Order could do something to save lives.
"Come here." Sirius said quietly, and Harry saw that his godfather wasn't faring much better. Gathering Harry into a tight embrace, Sirius whispered, "I'm so proud of you, Harry. No one ever would have expected you to do that. What you're going through is horrific - I truly cannot imagine it. And the first thing you think about is saving lives."
Harry still felt sick to his stomach at the images that were bombarding his brain. Sirius might be proud of him, but he wasn't proud of himself. Surely what he'd done wasn't that unusual, and he said this much to Sirius. "Loads of people would do the same as me," he said softly.
Sirius held Harry tighter, and kissed the top of his head. "I'm not saying that there aren't a lot of good people out there, Harry," he said quietly. "But I think that many would simply have frozen at what they saw, unable to think what to do."
Harry took several deep breaths, closing his eyes against the endless memories of terror that plagued his mind. "All my tutors have been telling me to find any weapon I can and use it against Voldemort," he whispered. "If he was sending me that vision on purpose, he doesn't know that I was able to wake up, does he? Or ..."
Harry was suddenly filled with a bone-deep horror, for something had just occurred to him. "Or ... does he know?" he whispered in fear. "Could I have just ... just ... did I just send the Order into a trap?"
He held onto Sirius tighter then, terror consuming him. "You're ... you're part of the Order," he said, hating himself for stating something so obvious. "You're ... you're not going to go and fight with them right now, are you?"
Merlin, he was so selfish. "You filthy, entitled brat." Aunt Petunia's disgusted tones didn't ring through Harry's mind half as often these days, but it was moments like this when the voice reappeared. The fight was so much more important than him. Just because he was terrified of losing him didn't mean that Sirius wouldn't be doing the right thing by fighting. Muggles were dying and Harry was acting like a baby. That little girl's screams rang through his mind again as her mother was forced to do unspeakable things, and he shuddered violently.
And what if he had sent the Order into a trap? Was Voldemort aware that Harry had woken up? Had he even sent the dream on purpose? The only time Harry could be sure of that was when he'd sent him the false memory of himself murdering Cedric that had been shown at Fudge's trial. The attacks on August 31 and the ones tonight ... was Voldemort aware that Harry had seen them?
"I'm sorry," Harry apologized instantly. "I'm being selfish. If the Order needs you, then ..."
"Shhhh, Harry." Sirius's eyes grew incredibly soft with love and reassurance. "Selfish, Harry? That's the last thing you are after what you've just done. You've just seen things that fully-grown adults would quail from. Yet you woke up and instantly wanted to help. And ... Harry, Minerva McGonagall knows how to handle these things - she will think and prepare for all possibilities, including if this is a trap. The Order knows how to handle themselves, Harry."
He began to softly stroke Harry's hair as he continued. "My first priority will always be you from now on," he said quietly. "And yes, I am a member of the Order. And yes, that does mean that there will be times I will fight with them." He sighed, pulling Harry closer. "I won't lie - my first instinct is to run towards danger, especially when I know that that monster is involved. There's not a strong enough word in the English language to describe how I feel about what he and those ... those scum are doing tonight." Harry could feel Sirius shaking with rage, but he was keeping his voice soft.
"I want to stop them," he whispered. "They need to be stopped. It's not like me to just let others do it." He continued to stroke Harry's hair gently as he spoke. "But ... I realized that ... I'm not just sitting quietly and letting others do it. Ever since Dumbledore tried to get me to leave you on the night of the Third Task so I could help rally the Order, I knew what was truly the most important thing I could do."
Harry felt his breath hitch as Sirius's warm gray eyes looked directly into Harry's teary green ones. "Fighting the Death Eaters, stopping Voldemort - that is incredibly important," he whispered. "But you ... you, pup, are my whole world. And if that means leaving the fighting to others so that I can take care of you ... I will do it."
For a minute, Harry couldn't speak. Sirius held him as the tears flowed freely. This was a man who was going against his instincts just to take care of Harry. He remembered how Sirius had said at his trial that Harry meant more to him than any revenge on Peter Pettigrew. And Harry knew Sirius wanted nothing more than to see Peter destroyed. The fact that he'd give that up, and also sacrifice fighting with the Order all for Harry's sake ... it was such a strangely intense combination of emotions that flowed through him. There was guilt - he didn't want to be the reason Sirius didn't fight - but there was so much love, love and gratitude that he had found someone who would put him first. "I'm sorry," he finally blurted, not knowing what else to say.
Sirius lifted Harry's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "Don't you dare be sorry. I won't hear it." Sirius crushed Harry against him, and he could hear the man's steady heartbeat in his ears. "I'm doing what I should have done all along."
"I love you so much, Sirius." Harry felt so naked and vulnerable, but he had been shown countless times that he could reveal this side of himself to Sirius.
"I love you too, kiddo. Always." Sirius's hand continued to cart through Harry's hair, the rhythm of it soothing him. "Do you want to try and get back to sleep?"
"I can't." Harry knew this to be true - the images of those that had been tortured and killed swam through his mind, added with the worry of what McGonagall and the Order were facing. "But you can if you want to."
Sirius smiled shakily. "I'd tell you to try, but then, I'd be a hypocrite," he said with a sad chuckle. "I don't think I can sleep again tonight, either."
"Will McGonagall tell us what happened?" Harry asked. "And ... not everyone in the Order knows about ..." He pointed at his scar. "Our ... connection," he said, the horror of it all surging through him anew. "How will she explain about knowing where Voldemort is?"
"You know what Snape does for the Order," Sirius said. "She'll say she received the information, and they'll assume it's his doing."
Harry thought about that. "Why didn't Snape tell them to begin with?" he asked quietly.
It seemed like it was costing Sirius a great effort as he spoke again. "He has explained at Order meetings that Voldemort is not relaying much information to him. Now, I don't know if ..." He stopped, and sighed.
"You don't trust him," Harry realized. "You think he's lying."
"It doesn't really matter what I think," Sirius said dejectedly. "McGonagall trusts him. And as much as I hate to admit it, it could very well be my grudge talking. I've never trusted that man. And the way he's treated you is abominable," he added with anger in his voice.
Harry had never understood Snape's sheer nastiness towards him, either. He felt comforted by Sirius speaking in Harry's defense. "I've never liked him either," he admitted. "And I ... I honestly don't know if I trust him."
"He's given you no reason to." Sirius nodded. "But McGonagall does, and I know I wouldn't be able to convince her otherwise."
There were a few minutes of silence as Harry and Sirius held onto each other for comfort, strength, and reassurance. The silence was broken, however, by the sudden appearance of a tabby cat Patronus.
"Thank you for the information, Sirius. Several members of the Order are heading to that location now, and Kingsley and a group of Aurors will also be going." And with that, the cat disappeared.
Relief and panic warred with each other as Harry absorbed the information. Merlin ... please let everyone be okay, he thought. And please, please, please save any more Muggles from suffering.
"It makes sense that McGonagall isn't going," Sirius said. "She is the acting Headmistress of Hogwarts right now, after all. Her main duty is to the school." He smiled gently at Harry. "As mine is to you."
Harry had the strength to smile back even though he was filled with worry. "I hope no one else gets hurt or ... or worse," he said shakily.
"Me too," Sirius replied quietly. "Me too."
There were several more minutes of silence while Harry gathered himself. He didn't want to do this. Merlin, he didn't want to do this.
But he had to. He had to. He had spent the last few days thinking about nothing but. It was now late Saturday night, or early Sunday morning, depending on how you thought about it. Ever since Wednesday, when Sirius had told Harry that he thought he was being a coward by not facing his true feelings about Regulus Black, Harry had thought of nothing but his own cowardice, his own refusal to face what was right in front of him.
"Sirius." His voice was soft when he spoke, but the tone instantly had his godfather on alert.
"Yes, Harry?" Sirius asked. "What is it, kiddo?"
"You know how you said the other day that you thought you'd been a coward, and I told you that wasn't true?" Harry asked, his voice coming out in a rush. "You were never a coward, Sirius. But this summer ... this summer, I have been."
Sirius looked stunned. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about? You, a coward? There's nothing further from the truth!" he exclaimed.
"No, it's not. It's true," Harry stated, his heart beating so loudly he was sure Sirius could hear and feel it. "I ..." He took a deep breath, and finally, at long last, after all this time of putting it off - he plunged in.
"I know there's something you're hiding from me, Sirius." Harry spoke softly, and he knew he had hit the mark when he saw his godfather's face rapidly lose color. "I didn't say anything to you about it because I realized why you were hiding it. You knew I was having a hard time this summer and you didn't want to upset me any more.
"But ... you're not good at hiding things completely." He chuckled softly, sadly. "You give yourself away even though you try not to. You kept looking at me strangely, like you felt guilty for something really big. It's not like I don't know that you already feel guilty for what happened in the past, but ... there's something more to this. I'm not angry or upset with you because I understand the reason why you did it. You're not like other adults, you know? Other adults kept stuff from me because they thought I was too stupid or too immature to handle it. I'm a child and it's all for my own good anyway."
He stopped, gauging Sirius's reaction. The man looked heartbroken as he gazed at Harry, his face completely white. "Harry, I ..." he started softly.
"It's okay, Sirius. You were right to hide whatever it is from me. I was too fragile and lost this summer to handle it. I needed the chance to heal, and you knew it. You gave me that. And I can never thank you enough for it."
Sirius looked like he was struggling to hold it together. "James and Lily always said I was rubbish at hiding things." His voice was a whisper. "How long have you known?"
"I guess it was ... within a few days of you taking me in," Harry admitted. "And I was a coward not to ask you about it for so long."
"No." Sirius's voice was hoarse with emotion. "You were not being a coward. You were healing. You were facing all manner of hell. You'd just experienced the horror of the Third Task, been accused of murder, and had to leave Hogwarts and go into hiding. In less than twenty-four hours, your life was turned completely upside down. You are far from a coward, Harry. In fact, your bravery is astounding - you're bringing it up on a night like this, when you just saw ..." He stopped, unable to continue.
"That's why I asked you tonight, Sirius. Because I saw what I saw."
xxx
Sirius looked into Harry's emerald eyes and was, once again, struck with the thought that surely, this boy couldn't be only fifteen years old - it was impossible. It was heartbreaking. It was gut-wrenching. The child - his kiddo - was staring at him with eyes so old that it filled him with an unbearable, endless sorrow.
"It's got something to do with Voldemort." It was a statement, not a question. "It's about why he tried to kill me when I was a baby."
Sirius's eyes widened, his mouth opening in numb shock. "How ... how do you know?" he breathed.
"Dumbledore." Harry said the Headmaster's name quietly. "I asked him at the end of first year why Voldemort wanted me dead when I was a baby. He said that he couldn't tell me right then, that he'd tell me later."
There were many decisions Dumbledore had made about Harry's life which Sirius did not agree with. But the more he thought about it, the less angry he felt he had a right to be about this one. He, too, had kept it from Harry, and he simply could not imagine telling an eleven-year-old boy that he was to kill or be killed. The thought was just plain awful.
"But he never told me," Harry continued. "And I never forgot. Please, Sirius ... I need to know."
The two of them gazed at each other for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity. It was one of those moments that was filled with all the emotions a human could possibly feel. Sirius knew this was finally the time when the truth would be revealed. "Kiddo ..." he whispered, needing Harry to ask him one last time.
"Please, Sirius." Harry's bright emerald eyes were steady on Sirius's soft gray ones. "I'm ready to know."
Sirius took a deep breath, and said the words that had been the beginning of it all. "There was a prophecy," he murmured, taking Harry's hand in his own. "Months before you were born, Professor Trelawney recited a prophecy to Dumbledore."
Harry's eyes widened. "Trelawney?" he whispered. "She made another prophecy?"
"Another one?" Sirius asked in surprise. "You mean, she did it again?"
Harry looked shocked. "Oh," he said quietly. "I must have forgotten to tell you ... but it already came true. She predicted that ... that Peter would escape and go back to Voldemort, and that he would return." He looked incredibly guilty for a moment. "At the time, we had no clue what she meant," he said softly. "She was very cryptic in what she said. And it all ... all came true."
Sirius placed his arm around Harry, and squeezed him tightly. "Prophecies are strange things, pup." He sighed wearily. "They can be very difficult to interpret. You could go around in circles your whole life, imagining how you could have stopped it from coming true. In the end, though, you have to believe that there's nothing you could have done differently."
Harry looked at him with haunted eyes, and Sirius knew he was thinking about Cedric. Sadness filled him - his godson would always carry that guilt. Even a decade from now, he would still feel it. Sirius knew exactly how he felt.
"So ... this prophecy you're talking about," Harry said, bringing the conversation back on track. "Dumbledore heard it?"
"Yes," Sirius said softly. "And, unfortunately, a Death Eater was in the vicinity when Trelawney recited it. Dumbledore was in the Hog's Head Inn, interviewing Trelawney for the Divination post when she said it, and a Death Eater happened to be listening outside the door. He only heard half of it, as he was caught eavesdropping, and therefore kicked out of the establishment."
Harry's eyes widened in horror. "Who was the Death Eater?" he asked quietly.
Sirius had his suspicions, but did not voice them. "That, I don't know, Harry." His eyes were full of pain as he tried to bite back the anger that flowed through him at the very thought. "Dumbledore wouldn't say. He says it doesn't really matter who told Voldemort - but that's bollocks. They have to pay for what they did to you, to your parents."
Harry was quiet, his emerald eyes full of a deep-seated hurt that Sirius understood all too well. "So whoever it was told Voldemort what they heard," he said after a few seconds.
"Yes." Sirius nodded. "Your parents told me the whole thing. Looking back, I realize they shouldn't have done it. We were so young in those days, Harry. The world was tearing itself apart around us, yet we thought our friendship was unbreakable, that we were invincible. Your parents trusted me with their lives, with your life."
The words, "they shouldn't have done so," were unsaid by Sirius, and Harry stared at him, an infinite sorrow behind his eyes. "I trust you with my life, Sirius," he whispered.
Sirius's heart was suffused with warmth at the simple honesty in that statement. There were days when he still doubted himself with every breath he took - it wasn't a lie that he, Lily, and James had been incredibly foolhardy. They thought Voldemort could never touch them because their friendship would see them through everything. Plus, Lily and James had survived Voldemort's attack three times before Harry was born. It only added to the sense of invincibility Sirius had felt back then.
"That is yet another reason why we switched Secret Keepers," Sirius explained softly. "I realized that I would not only have your parents' location for Voldemort to force out of me, but if he figured out that I knew the entire prophecy ..."
Harry nodded, looking at him with fear in his eyes. "What if you do end up getting captured?" he asked in a terrified whisper. "And Voldemort figures it out? I don't think you'd tell him ... but he'll do everything he can to get it out of you, including ... including the Cruciatus Curse."
Sirius could see how profoundly afraid Harry was of this possibility, and he tightened his embrace. "I will do everything in my power not to be captured, but I know that hardly takes away your fear of it," he said gently. "Everyone who is an enemy of Voldemort says the same thing, yet many of them ended up as his prisoners during the last war." He tightened his grip on Harry. "I did consider asking Arnold Dixon to Obliviate me," he revealed. "He certainly knows the prophecy now - he had to heal Dumbledore's mind, after all."
Harry's eyes were round with realization. "I hadn't thought of that," he breathed. "Oh no ... that puts Dixon in danger too. The entire wizarding world knows that he healed Dumbledore - that means Voldemort will know, too."
"Dixon is very intelligent. I'm sure he's taking as many precautions as I am," Sirius tried to reassure. "But after much consideration ... a Memory Charm won't work. From what you told me happened to Bertha Jorkins ..."
Harry shuddered violently at the recollection. "Voldemort knew it, and the effort of breaking the charm broke her," he forced out.
"Yes, exactly." Sirius nodded. "Plus - I know you won't want to hear this, Harry, but my knowing the full prophecy is worth the risk. You are worth the risk." He gazed into Harry's eyes.
Harry looked so incredibly small and scared in that moment. "I don't want to lose you," he murmured into his godfather's hair.
"I know, kiddo. I will do everything possible to keep myself safe." He held Harry close for several moments, relishing the contact.
Harry spoke again after a moment, the maturity in his voice continuously breaking Sirius's heart. "Maybe I shouldn't learn all of it either," he said. "I know it's about me, but ... what if I get captured? Won't he try to get it out of me before he kills me?"
A boiling anger rose up in Sirius then, but it was not directed at Harry - it was directed at the circumstances that had brought them here, to this moment. No fifteen-year-old boy should talk about his life and death so casually. No one had really taught this child how valuable his life was, had they? He'd faced evil every single year, and been forced to face death more times than anyone should. It was so entirely cruel.
Sirius couldn't help the shaking of his body as he gripped his godson tightly. "He's not going to kill you, Harry. He's not going to." he whispered desperately.
"Sirius, I don't want to die either. And Sturgis, Emmeline, and Moody are making it so I can fight back against him and the Death Eaters much better." He smiled, although there was a world of sadness behind it. "But I can't pretend that he can't kill me. I've gotten lucky all the other times - I've had help. And he's only going to keep trying."
Sirius forcibly held back tears - now was not the time for them. "I am so incredibly proud of you, Harry," he whispered. "In truth, it continuously scares me, how mature you are. All that's on your mind should be Quidditch, impressing girls, neglecting homework, and playing Exploding Snap."
Harry smiled sadly once again, and sighed. He said nothing, but looked at Sirius with an expression that went soul deep. Then he said quietly, "I know that I don't know the prophecy ... but it's obvious, isn't it? It says I have to kill him."
The air was very still for an endless moment as Harry held Sirius's gaze. His silence was all the confirmation Harry needed. The boy's eyes were frighteningly steady as he took a deep, shuddering breath, and simply nodded.
It was a minute before Sirius had the strength to speak again. "Can I at least tell you the first part?" he asked quietly. "Voldemort already knows it."
At Harry's nod of assent, Sirius recited the words that had haunted him for years, ever since James had spoken them to him. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches - born to those who have thrice defied him - born as the seventh month dies," he intoned.
Harry pondered this for a moment. "And you're sure the prophecy refers to me?" he asked quietly.
"That's just it, Harry. At first, Dumbledore wasn't sure," Sirius replied. "When Trelawney first made it, there were two boys that fit the criteria of the prophecy. You, and Neville Longbottom."
"Neville?" Harry asked in shock. "Did you hear about what happened to his parents?" he whispered.
Sirius sighed, his heart clenching in pain. He had known Alice and Frank well, having fought with them in the Order for several years. "Yes, I did. It's ... it's so tragic. And so terrible," he said as his vile cousin's cackles filled his mind.
"Yeah," Harry said. "And Crouch ... he was the one teaching us all year. I reckon Neville ..." He struggled for words. "I can't imagine what he's going through."
Sirius nodded. "Me neither," he whispered.
Several moments passed, and then Harry spoke again. "You said that at first, the prophecy could have referred to either of us. How do you know it's me now?"
Sirius thought carefully of how to phrase this. "Because of this," he said finally, pointing to Harry's forehead.
"My scar?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Yes." Sirius nodded. "Exactly."
Harry closed his eyes, appearing to be in deep thought. Eventually, he asked, "Is there anything in the second part of the prophecy that I absolutely have to know in order to train properly?"
Sirius could see in Harry's eyes that he was profoundly serious. There was no hesitation in his voice when he spoke of fighting Voldemort. He could see the deep-seated horror there, too, that sense of knowing that he was training to kill another human being, no matter how evil. At that moment, Sirius could see a little more of Harry's innocence falling away, and he thought he would break right there and then.
There was a big part of Sirius that had hoped Harry would reject the prophecy. He wanted the boy to get angry at the expectation that was heaped on him. He would have understood perfectly if his godson wanted to do nothing more than run away from the wizarding world and never look back. He was a kid - why should he have to deal with this impossibly heavy burden?
But Sirius had always known that Harry wouldn't run. He would always fight to save those he loved. Ron. Hermione. The entire Weasley family. Remus. Himself. And even Dumbledore, no matter what he had done.
And he would also fight to avenge those who had lost their lives. His parents. Cedric. The countless innocents he had seen die, and he'd actually felt as though he were Voldemort himself.
A flame of anger burned inside Sirius's heart when he thought of how Dumbledore had basically primed Harry into thinking this was what his life should be about. He had known that Voldemort would come back, and therefore prepared Harry to be a soldier. But Sirius also knew how good of a person Harry was - would he have fought anyway, without Dumbledore's influence? Plenty of others had, after all. Like him - he'd graduated from Hogwarts and gone into Auror training.
But Harry was different. He was so young. And none of the other Aurors and Order members had prophecies hanging over their heads. It was cruel and unfair - exceedingly so. It was honestly heartbreaking to see how calmly Harry was taking it - as if he'd known all along.
He knew he needed to answer Harry's question. The prophecy was one of those things he'd analyzed endlessly; he'd had time, after all - plenty of time when he was on the run. He couldn't do it in Azkaban - that prison wasn't conducive to doing anything constructive. But while he lay in the Forbidden Forest as a dog, his tail between his legs and his shaggy, matted fur hanging limply off him, he seemingly had all the time in the world to think over the haunting words.
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal ... that scar. He hadn't told Harry the actual words, but he knew now that he was definitely the one the prophecy referred to. There was nothing in that phrase that would really help Harry fight him, so it didn't really matter.
And he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... what did that mean? It was incredibly cryptic. What power? There was so much about Harry that was the complete opposite of Voldemort. This was the one part of the prophecy that was completely infuriating, because he simply could not decipher its meaning.
He thought he should tell Harry this part, at least. This was important for him to know. "There is a part you should know, Harry," Sirius said. "It says that you possess a power that Voldemort doesn't have."
Harry looked rather surprised and incredibly doubtful about that. "Then it's wrong," he said softly, and Sirius saw fear flash through his eyes. "I would have died in that graveyard if we didn't have brother wands. I'm learning to fight so I can defend myself - but I don't have any powers that he doesn't."
Sirius remembered the horror he'd felt when Harry had shown him the memory of his duel in the graveyard, and how his godson had come within inches of death. It still tore him apart when he remembered Lily and James coming out of the madman's wand, and they, along with Cedric, the Muggle man, and Bertha Jorkins, had kept Harry fighting and gave him the will to survive.
But Sirius had to have faith. If he didn't, he knew he would lose his own will to fight. To live without Harry ... it was impossible. After all, Trelawney wouldn't have spoken of this power without it being true, right? He told the boy as much, squeezing his hand and trying to lend him strength. Harry still looked doubtful, but he could tell how much Sirius's support meant to him.
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... this part, Sirius would not tell Harry, the biggest reason being the boy's emotional well-being. He had thought over this part of the damned prophecy countless times, and didn't know whether he was interpreting it correctly. Did it mean that only Voldemort could kill Harry, and only Harry could kill Voldemort? Was that what the word "must" meant?
But it didn't matter. If he told Harry, he knew how the boy would take it. He already blamed himself for Cedric's death, and already thought himself somehow responsible for the deaths he had seen in his dreams. Even though he hadn't said as much about the vision he'd awoken from tonight, Sirius could tell. Harry had felt as though he were Voldemort ... and that somehow made him feel responsible. Sirius understood completely how he could feel like that, and his mission was to continue to convince him it wasn't true.
But how would it make Harry feel if he thought that no one but him could kill Voldemort? With every attack the madman carried out, Harry would blame himself because he hadn't defeated him yet. That would shatter anyone's soul. Sirius could never do that to him. Although, Sirius thought with a heartbroken pang, Harry, with his guilt complex a mile wide, might already think that way.
He was proven right a minute later when the boy said something that tore him to pieces. "I'm so sorry, Sirius," he whispered suddenly.
"Why in Merlin's name are you sorry, Harry?" Sirius asked in surprise.
"I'm the reason my parents died," Harry whispered, an absolutely devastated look in his emerald eyes. "They didn't just go into hiding because they were part of the Order, did they? They went into hiding because Voldemort knew half of the prophecy and wanted me dead. They died protecting me. You lost your best friends and spent twelve years in Azkaban because ..."
Sirius couldn't help himself. He grabbed Harry and literally crushed the boy's body to his in an embrace that was incredibly tight. Hatred suffused his being in that moment, a fierce anger that was directed at Petunia and Vernon Dursley. "No, Harry. Don't you dare say such a thing." He could feel tears filling his eyes. "Do you honestly think yourself responsible for ANY of this? You were a BABY, Harry. A baby who was worth the entire world to your parents. Do you have any idea how much joy you brought to them?"
Harry stared at Sirius, taken aback by the sheer passion in his voice. He opened and closed his mouth, obviously at a loss for words.
"Your parents, Harry, did what any loving parents would do in that situation," Sirius proclaimed. "They vowed to keep you safe, and gave up their lives for you. Do you think they'd want you to blame yourself? Do you really think that you hold any responsibility for what that depraved wizard decided to do with his life? He made the decision to try and kill you, Harry. And as far as my Azkaban sentence goes ... Harry, I went to prison because I wasn't thinking straight. I know you've forgiven me for everything that happened, and that means more to me than anything in the world. And I won't let you blame yourself for my decisions either.
"Harry," he went on with a deep conviction in his voice. "You don't have to do anything about this prophecy. If you told me right now that you wanted to run away and never look back, I wouldn't think any less of you. You are just a child, Harry. You shouldn't be involved in any of this. Do you have any idea what it takes, for me to accept your having to be trained? It's only because I know that it might be the difference between your life and death that makes any of it palatable.
"But I know you, Harry. I know you'd never run away. You told McGonagall you wanted to fight in the war before you knew about this prophecy." Harry nodded, and Sirius smiled sadly.
"Me, Sturgis, Emmeline, Mad-Eye, Minerva, the rest of the Order ... you might feel like you're alone in this, but you will never be," he said, vividly recalling Harry's birthday when they'd listened to that song, with the singer repeating that sentiment over and over again. He recalled the letters he'd received from Harry while he was in the Ministry holding cell with those three words written on them. He met Harry's gaze, and realized he was remembering it too.
"Thank you." Harry whispered the words, and Sirius was glad to see that the boy had taken in all that he had said.
Suddenly, a cat Patronus appeared, as if out of nowhere. Sirius recognized it instantly - how many times had he seen it during Auror training? It was very different to McGonagall's tabby cat Animagus form and Patronus. This one was most definitely a Persian cat.
"Sirius, please come into the drawing room. I have news regarding Voldemort's most recent attacks. I am about to come through the fireplace." With that, the Patronus vanished.
Harry tensed instantly, his face draining of color. Sirius put a supportive arm around him. "You don't have to come if you're not feeling up to it," he said quietly, but he knew Harry would. He was proven correct when Harry only shook his head and stood up. Sirius didn't object as they made their way to the drawing room.
Sirius remembered asking Sturgis why his Patronus was a cat. The other man had smiled, explaining that his parents were cat fanatics and they'd always owned several of them at once growing up. The Persian they'd once owned had been Sturgis's favorite. During one of his recent nightly gatherings, Sirius had joked that it was a shock that Sturgis hadn't stayed away from him after his Animagus form was revealed. Sturgis had grinned and teased that his parents wouldn't ever let Sirius come near their house for fear of total catastrophe, no pun intended.
He couldn't help but feel dread mixed with relief as he and Harry walked into the drawing room. Sturgis had just come through the fireplace and though he looked drained, he appeared not to have suffered any injuries. He heard Harry sigh audibly and knew he was just as relieved. But what would he have to tell them? Was anyone else hurt? Or worse?
Sturgis's face softened as he saw them. "Are you okay, Harry?" he asked instantly, his eyes on Harry. "Professor McGonagall didn't tell us how she came upon the information about the attacks, but ..." He seemed to see something in Harry's face that confirmed his suspicions. "I guessed," he said quietly, and Sirius could hear the emotion in his voice. He recalled Harry telling him how much it had affected Sturgis when he'd revealed his scar connection to Voldemort during their first tutoring session.
"I'm okay, Sturgis. What happened?" Harry breathed. "I'm really glad you're all right. Was anybody else hurt? Were you able to stop the attacks?"
Sturgis smiled gently. "Yes, I'm fine, Harry. A couple of the Aurors sustained minor injuries, but they're expected to make a full recovery. Nymphadora Tonks was hit with the Cruciatus Curse and is currently at Saint Mungo's being checked over. She, too, will make a full recovery."
Harry's eyes widened in horror and sympathy, and Sirius's heart clenched. Both he and Harry knew the pain of that curse - it went beyond description. He was exceedingly grateful that Tonks was going to be okay - he thought of the Longbottoms, and shuddered.
"Voldemort and the Death Eaters were exactly where you said they were, Harry," Sturgis said. "Unfortunately, Voldemort Disapparated the instant we showed up. But he did not take any of his Death Eaters with him. A few escaped, but we were able to apprehend several of them. They're currently in Ministry holding cells."
Neither Sirius nor Harry were at all surprised to hear about Voldemort. He'd obviously never been apprehended during the First War, somehow always able to escape capture and incarceration. "Coward," Sirius muttered with revulsion. "I've never been able to understand why anyone follows him. The Order, the Aurors - we take care of our own. Voldemort doesn't give a damn about any of his supporters."
"Tyrants never do," Sturgis said with sadness in his voice. "Voldemort, like many other awful men in both Muggle and wizarding history, don't possess any shred of humanity."
He looked at Harry then, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. "I want to thank you, Harry," he said, looking at him deeply. "Because of you, we were able to save lives. When Voldemort and the Death Eaters Disapparated from the house you saw them carrying out the current attack, there was a man that was still alive."
Harry's face was full of grief and heartbreak. "They forced him to watch as they were torturing his family," he whispered in a broken voice.
Rage lit up Sturgis's eyes for a second before he forcibly calmed himself. "Not a surprise," he said softly.
Harry's eyes widened further as he realized something. "When I woke up, his wife was still alive, too," he said quietly.
The incredibly sad look that passed over Sturgis's face only confirmed Harry's fears. "Oh no," he breathed. "No, no, no."
Sirius watched on helplessly as Harry shook with renewed sorrow. He was about to say something, anything, to try and comfort him when Sturgis beat him to it. "Harry." He laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Harry, look at me. Please."
Harry looked up, his tear-filled, tortured emerald eyes meeting Sturgis's gentle brown ones.
"Harry, I need you to listen to me now. This is important." He turned the boy to face him, and held both of his shoulders in a strong yet comforting grip.
Something in Sturgis's voice seemed to break through the haze of grief and guilt that was consuming Harry. He swallowed and nodded.
"I'm going to remind you of what we told you the night you informed the Order you weren't ready to return to Hogwarts," Sturgis said quietly. "It is a lesson we have all had to learn, and it's one of the hardest and most gut-wrenching ones. Harry, though we try our best, we cannot always save everyone. Though we want nothing more than to save all those we love, and all other innocent beings who have done nothing to deserve the horror they have suffered, sometimes that cannot be the case."
He held Harry's gaze, still holding his shoulders. "Harry, you did more tonight than anyone would have expected of you. Because of you, that man is currently at Saint Mungo's, recovering."
"He'll be Obliviated, won't he?" Harry asked, and Sirius wondered if that, for him, would be a blessing. He wouldn't remember being forced to watch his family suffer horrors Sirius could imagine all too clearly, because he had seen them. He'd have to be told his family was dead ... but what would be the story? Sirius remembered that the Muggles who had died at Peter's hands were said to have been killed in a gas explosion.
Sturgis nodded sadly. "Yes, he will be," he said, sighing. "I've never known quite how to feel about using Memory Charms on Muggles," he added quietly. "In this case, however ..."
"Yeah." Harry didn't elaborate, and neither did Sturgis. But it was obvious they were thinking the same way as Sirius.
"You gave that man a second chance, Harry," Sturgis said. "I know what you're thinking - he's going to have to spend the rest of his life without his family. It's incredibly cruel. But ..." He gazed at Sirius then, and he understood where Sturgis was going.
"It's true. I didn't think I could ever have the will to live without your parents. I used to think that if I ever lost them, my life would be over, too. And I thought it was, for the longest time." He turned to face Harry. "Yet here I am," he said softly. "You've given me a second chance."
There was warmth in Harry's eyes when he gazed back at Sirius, but there was still hopelessness in his voice when he spoke. "But that man ... he's the only one left," he protested weakly.
"What Sirius is saying is that hope can be found, even when it seems like all of it is gone," Sturgis said quietly. "I don't doubt that things will be unbearable for that man for a long time. But we humans are more resilient than we give ourselves credit for. Your godfather is a prime example of it. Harry, you saved that man's life - and you never know what will come of it."
Harry still looked unconvinced, but he nodded. Sirius could only hope that the boy would come to accept it.
"And," Sturgis continued after a moment, "you stopped any further attacks tonight, Harry. Merlin knows how many more houses those monsters were planning to invade. You may have been responsible for saving many lives. Plus, because of you, Voldemort is now down several more Death Eaters. You already helped us apprehend several of them after supplying Amelia with the memory of the night of his rebirth, including Lucius Malfoy, who was one of his most important. Doubtless the monster is furious."
His eyes remained on Harry's as he squeezed his shoulder. "Focus on the lives you saved, not on the ones you couldn't. I am incredibly proud of you, Harry," he said before finally letting go.
"I will leave now," he said quietly. "You've had a very difficult night, and you need to rest."
"So do you," Harry said, obviously noticing Sturgis's exhaustion.
Sturgis smiled softly. "Don't worry," he reassured. "I will." He nodded to Sirius, who gave him a small smile and nodded back.
He was steps away from the fireplace when Harry called, "Sturgis?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Thank you," Harry said sincerely. "Thank you so much." Taking a deep breath, he added, "I know about the prophecy. Not all of it, because I don't want Voldemort learning the second half if I get captured, but ..."
Sturgis was caught entirely off-guard. He looked completely stunned for several seconds, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was a whisper. "You won't be alone, Harry."
"I know," Harry whispered as Sturgis gave Sirius a profound look.
And Sirius recognized that look entirely. It was the look that one father gave another. Though Sirius was not Harry's father, he had taken over that role. Sturgis would move mountains, cross oceans, even enter Hell itself if it meant keeping Benjamin safe. Sirius would do the very same for Harry. It was another moment where both men understood each other perfectly.
In the next moment, Sturgis grabbed some Floo powder, called out his address, and whirled out of sight.
That was when all energy left Harry as he stumbled, only to be caught by Sirius's strong arms.
And Harry couldn't stop the tears that fell as Sirius lowered them both to the floor, and there they sat, Sirius holding Harry close as all the emotions of the night finally caught up with him.