Sleepless Knights.

The light of the candelabras was flickering. It was annoying him, it was already damn difficult to read anyway and the dim lighting was making his headache steadily worse.

Harry pulled off his glasses and scrubbed at his eyes, whilst flinging the book he had been attempting to concentrate on aside.

Harry couldn't concentrate on anything, he kept getting lost in his thoughts, images rushing by whilst Harry tried to banish them into the depths of his mind. The image that haunted him most was of Mr Weasley toppling to the floor, blood pooling around him.

Oh, Harry knew that Mr Weasley would be all right but Harry could still taste the blood on his tongue and his weakening heartbeat in his ears. It left him sickened and wishing for things to be different.

It would have to be him that was able to see through Nagini's and Voldemort's eyes wouldn't it? He just had to be the one with that ability. No one else could do the same thing, not even Dumbledore. But Harry Potter could. Whoop-tee-do!

Harry felt like screaming. It was either that or bawling, and Harry wasn't a baby. But then, he wasn't in any position to be yelling and banging about either. Instead he gave a low coffee table a vicious kick, which he found hurt like hell and made a sharp cracking sound which seemed to echo in the silent, sleeping house.

Harry held his breath for a few seconds listening intently to see if he had awoken anyone or alerted someone to his presence.

Thankfully all was hushed and still, so Harry collapsed back into the shabby, uncomfortable sofa. It was a horrible settee; pea green and had silver threads of intricate designs of thistles and dragons covering it. When anyone sat down, clouds of dust arose and made everyone in the near vicinity sneeze.

Harry, though prudent to this, held his breath and sat still, waiting for the dust to settle, his eyes watering in the process.

As he made himself as comfortable as he could and put his feet up onto the ornately carved coffee table, a soundless-footed someone came and stood in the doorway.

"Why are you still up, Harry?" The tall shadow leaning against the doorframe, softly asked.

Harry didn't quite jump but was immediately alert, his wand drawn. After his eyes found whom it was he replied, "Couldn't sleep. Although the better question, is Sirius, what are you doing up? You went to bed hours ago."

Sirius padded in the room and sat heavily next to Harry and put his socked feet up, knocking over several books, cards and sweets onto the floorboards. "Stop sounding like the adult, I'm supposed to be that."

"Yes, supposed to be," came the swift reply and answering grin. "Did I wake you up?" smile dimming at the thought and worried eyes watched Sirius carefully.

"Nah I was trying to get to sleep, but tossing and turning wasn't doing much good so I thought I'd get up."

"I see."

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or am I going to have to force it out of you?" Sirius jabbed his godson's side slightly and studied his face.

"Nothing," Harry answered and then at Sirius' disbelieving look said, "Lots of things. But nothing for you to fret about."

"Harry, don't you think I won't start pouting to get you to open up. Or if you don't want to tell me, I'll ask Molly in the morning to have a nice chat if you like..."

"Don't be stupid Sirius." With that Harry told Sirius all that had been going through his mind. The words seemed to be tumbling out and his felt to tired to stem the deluge.

"At times I think you're a nutcase, Harry."

"Oh yeah thanks Sirius, really helpful you are."

"No, idiot," Sirius once again prodded Harry's side and smiled gently when Harry giggled slightly. Fixing his eyes somewhere on the mantelpiece he spoke, "You worry too much. You didn't want to be in the position to watch Arthur's attack, you just were. It's not your fault."

"Then why do I feel so guilty?"

"Because you're like that. You're too kind and noble for your own good." Harry snorted and rubbed his eyes again, exhausted. "You can't argue with me Harry, as I always win and am always right."

"That's nice Sirius, you keep deluding yourself if it keeps you happy."

"Shut up you!" Sirius retorted without any feeling. He seemed to have fallen easily into the sort of conversation he and James used to have, light bantering and wicked grins. Though Harry seemed to have his mother's sense of humour more than his father's. Sirius felt cold for a moment with grief and pushed it away by focusing on Harry.

Harry hadn't answered; he just cautiously laid his head on Sirius' bony shoulder and listened to his heartbeat thumping reassuringly against his ear. Sirius ruffled his hair and rested his head atop his godson's, his own long hair covering both their faces.

They were found at dawn in the same position by a sadly smiling Lupin, who watched with gentle eyes before shaking them awake.


Another of my drabbles, this one is a missing-moment one which takes place some time in the Christmas holidays of Order of the Phoenix. It's hasn't got a real plot it's just something that made Sirius and Harry a bit closer than they were portrayed in the books.

Thanks to Cronje for beta reading this for me. I am eternally grateful!

Hope you review; thank you very much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this, short as it is.