An overused idea, I know, but what idea isn't overused on this site? This is something I found on my computer yesterday and decided to post. I'm not sure if it's any good but I hope you'll find it all right. It's set after Harry overhears what's said in the hospital. A small bonding moment between Harry and Sirius that I'm a sucker for.
For those reading my Revealing series: new update in the next few days.
Good and evil.
Sirius had once told him that everyone has both good and evil inside of them. It's the part they choose to act on that defines who they really are.
Perhaps that was true. For Harry he wasn't so sure.
Up until the previous night Harry had thought he was good. He was on the side of good. Now he didn't know. How could one be classified as good when their mind is tainted? How could he, Harry, be good if, at any moment, Voldemort could take control?
Was that the reason Dumbledore couldn't remain in a room longer than ten seconds with him? Was it the reason why he'd been left out in the dark all summer? If it were, then he was inclined to agree with the decision regardless of how alone he felt. He'd endure the loneliness if it kept his friends safe from the evil now possessing him.
A gentle tap of fist on wood brought Harry out of his musings.
"Sickle for your thoughts?"
Harry whipped around quickly at the sound of the familiar, gentle voice coming from behind him. Sirius was standing in the kitchen doorway, a small smile gracing his lips but his eyes betrayed the concern that Harry knew was radiating inside him.
For the last few days Harry had kept to his room, barely seeing or speaking to anyone including his godfather. It's not as though he was an idiot; he saw the fear in his friends eyes when they learned Harry was being possessed. He didn't think he could handle seeing it in Sirius's eyes too. They'd all be wondering now whether it were truly Harry staring back at them.
His godfather swiftly entered the room, taking the seat opposite Harry. He looked expectant.
"So, are you going to tell me what you're doing up at half two in the morning?" Sirius finally asked after a brief silence. "Does it have anything to do with why you've been avoiding everyone for the last couple of days?"
Harry merely shrugged. He didn't trust himself to speak not even to Sirius; the one adult whom he could tell anything to. It was the fear of disappointing him that froze him in his seat.
As Harry remained quiet, Sirius continued in a soft voice. "Ron told me what you overheard at the hospital. You're afraid aren't you." This wasn't a question. "Look at me, Harry."
Hesitantly, Harry pulled his gaze from the glass of water in front of him, that had conveniently chosen the last two minutes to become interesting, to look at his godfather.
"Now, I'm not going to repeat this so listen carefully, all right?" He paused, watching Harry nod his head cautiously. "You are not being possessed. No matter what you overheard, it's not happening."
"I - I'm not?" Harry's voice was raspy from the silence he had kept.
Sirius pushed the now stagnant glass of water closer to his godson. "Drink," he commanded gently.
Harry did as requested, grimacing at the foul taste.
He wasn't being possessed... then what was happening to him? It had, at the time, seemed to make sense to him; the anger he'd been feeling all year and the vision. What else could it be other than possession?
"No, you're not," Sirius continued after a moment. "It was something that we considered but it was ruled out. You are not, nor have you ever, been possessed by Voldemort. Unless there's something you haven't told me," he added as an afterthought, eyebrows raised in what he hoped looked like amusement.
Harry shook his head, biting down nervously on his lower lip. Even he wasn't sure at the answer.
"W-what's happening to me?"
The desperation in Harry's voice caused Sirius's chest to tighten. A sharp pain shot through his heart. There was nothing more important to him right there other than to take Harry's pain away.
"You share a connection with Voldemort, Harry, you know that," explained Sirius with a small sigh. "Evidently it's becoming stronger than we realise but I don't want you to worry about it."
"How can I not?"
"Because I'm here," Sirius answered simply. "As long as I'm alive, I'm not going to allow any harm to come to you, Harry. Please, trust me."
There was a fierce determination in both Sirius's voice and face that caused Harry to blurt out, "I do," rather quickly. He couldn't doubt his godfather.
Sirius gave him a small smile.
"But how do I stop it?"
"By closing your mind. Each night before you go to sleep try and close your mind. It's not an easy thing to do but you're stronger than Voldemort, Harry. If anyone can do it, you can."
It was only as Harry leaned back, weakly, in his chair and closed his eyes did Sirius notice the dark purple circles under his eyes. It was clear to him that Harry was exhausted. By the darkness of the bruises, Harry hadn't slept for at least a week properly; ever since he'd had the vision. Each part of Sirius ached with a sadness at the thought of Harry dealing with it alone. A part of him hoped, as he watched his godson, that Harry would come to him.
"Staying awake every night isn't going to help anyone, least of all yourself."
Harry's eyes snapped open. He was about to retort in defence but the softness of Sirius's eyes mixed in with the small frown on his face stopped him.
"I know," he answered quietly. He took a deep steadying breath before saying, "I - I'm afraid, Sirius. What if I wake up the next morning to discover that I've attacked Ron in my sleep... or you? I'd never forgive myself if I hurt any of you. I'm having a hard time right now reminding myself that Mr. Weasley's attack wasn't my fault."
As soon as the words spilled from his mouth his gaze dropped to the now empty glass of water. It was rare for him to speak with an adult, even Sirius.
"It wasn't your fault," declared Sirius, his voice firm. "It was Voldemort's and I'll keep reminding you for as long as you need it. I wish you'd believe me when I say it's not your fault. There wasn't anything you could have done to prevent it but look at it this way; if you hadn't seen it, Arthur surely would have died."
Rubbing his eyes exhaustedly, Harry sighed. His head pounded as he thought about it. Yes, it was good he'd seen the attack but, to him, it meant that he wasn't strong enough to keep Voldemort out anymore.
As though he had read Harry's mind, Sirius added, "It's got nothing to do with how strong you are, Harry."
"How - how did you know I was thinking that?" stammered Harry. His heart was pounding furiously inside his chest.
"You're more like your father than you think," responded Sirius, smiling slightly. Like James, Harry had the tendency to brood over his own weaknesses whether he had those qualities or not. "You make the same face he did when he was over-thinking something. Plus, I think I know you well enough to be able to read you by now."
A silence lapsed over them as Harry leaned back against his chair again; his mind spinning over everything Sirius had said to him. He wasn't being possessed. A huge wave of relief washed over him. For the first time in three days he could breathe freely.
The silence was broken as Harry yawned loudly.
"Ready to go to sleep?"
Breathing in deeply, Harry shook his head.
"You're obviously exhausted, Harry. You need to sleep. It's not doing you any good to deny your body the things it needs. And don't think for one minute that I've not noticed how you've failed to eat the food Molly's been sending up for you. You're going to make yourself sick this way, Harry."
Unexpectedly, Harry began to chuckle.
"What?" pressed Sirius curiously, frowning slightly. One minute his godson was brooding and the next he was... laughing? Whatever was happening with Harry he was glad that somewhere inside him was still a kid.
"Never thought I'd see the day you became responsible."
The older man mock glared at his messy-haired godson, placing a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Harry, you know that?"
"I do." Harry nodded with mock solemnity. "What can I say; it's fun."
"You won't tell anyone will you? I mean, I can't have my reputation ruined now."
"What reputation?" Harry asked innocently.
"I am Sirius Orion Black; Marauder extraordinaire and pranking genius. I can't have anyone knowing that I can be... responsible." He shuddered as though the word was a plague.
Harry snorted loudly, a weak grin breaking out on his face. "Never thought you and the word genius would ever go in the same sentence."
Grabbing a piece of stale bread that was lying on the kitchen table inches from his fingers, Sirius threw it directly at his godson. A chuckle escaped his lips as the bread hit Harry squarely on the cheek.
"That's what you get for insulting my genius-ness."
"Oh, I'm so sorry for that," quipped Harry sarcastically, waving his arms up and down as though bowing to greatness.
Sirius gave him a sly wink. "Apology accepted. Come on, bed," he added as Harry yawned again.
"I'll go as long as you can guarantee I won't attack someone during the night."
The smile fell from Sirius's face. He stood up, walked around the table to where his godson sat and leaned against his chair, extending a hand out to place on Harry's shoulder.
"I can't," replied Sirius sadly. "I can, however, promise that I will do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens even if it means staying awake all night to keep watch over you but I'm sure you won't agree to that."
Harry pulled a face. "You're right, I wouldn't."
"If I could take this burden away from you, I'd do it in a heartbeat, Harry," Sirius declared quietly. The animagus closed his eyes as he spoke for he could feel the tears welling in his eyes. Harry was fifteen and yet the boy - man - sitting in front of him looked older.
"You know I love you, right kiddo?"
These words warmed Harry's heart. It was the first time an adult (one that he remembered) had ever said those words to him. He loved Sirius too, a lot more than he realised he did which scared him. He knew he loved Ron and Hermione and that sort of love came natural to him but with Sirius it was different. He had never known a parents love before.
"I know," repeated Harry, smiling weakly.
Staring intently at his godson, Sirius could see there was something Harry was refraining from telling him.
"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked gently. Subconsciously his grip on Harry's shoulder tightened.
"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "Just... thinking," he amended.
Sirius sighed heavily. "You've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Anything you'd like to share?"
"Not particularly." Harry sounded nervous.
"That's fine, Harry. But when you are ready to talk about it just know that you can come to me. Day or night I am here for you. I always will be."
Harry smiled rather shyly up at him. "I know."
"So, are you going to go to bed or am I going to have to drag you?"
"I'm going, I'm going," said Harry, standing up and rolling his eyes at his godfather's over protectiveness.
Together they walked up the stairs. Sirius's hand was still on his godson's shoulder. He'd feel better once he knew Harry was safe in bed.
As Harry was about to enter his shared bedroom with Ron, Sirius bade him goodnight and turned to head for his own room when Harry's voice stopped him.
"Thanks, Sirius," said Harry quietly, looking down at his feet.
"Listening to me. Talking to me. I feel better like I'm lighter somehow."
"That's what a godfather does," he replied softly. "Remember what I said though. I'm here for you day and night whenever you need a person to talk to."
The older man stepped forward to engulf his young godson into a hug. Once inside his godfather's arms, Harry relaxed visibly, slumping against the strong hold Sirius had on him.
He felt safe.
"Now, go get some sleep," Sirius ordered as they broke apart. Ruffling Harry's hair he added, "And if I see you down before midday I'm going to drag you back up here, is that clear?"
"Sir, yes, sir," Harry saluted. The first genuine grin on his face. "Night, Sirius."
Harry turned into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him leaving Sirius staring at the wood that blocked his godson from view. He stood outside the door for several minutes until the sound of blankets being moved stopped.
"Goodnight, Harry. Sleep well."
There we go. My first oneshot that I promised several people.
Hope it was okay? Please review.