Title:  Crushed Velvet

By:  Tirya King Email:  Tirya56@hotmail.com Category:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Adventure Rating:  PG-13 Spoilers:  Not really unless you haven't read the books yet. Feedback:  Of course! Archive:  As long as you tell me where it's going, you may put it where you wish! Time Frame: Starts in the beginning of Harry's 5th year.

Summary:  Harry struggles to move on from his last summer.  But when his nightmares only increase and the feeling of darkness is stronger, he doesn't know where to turn.  Then he is accused of 1st degree murder and he finds himself totally alone, bereft even of his friends and family.  How can he prove his innocence when he can't even remember what happened?  Is he even innocent?

Disclaimer:  JK Rowling owns the books, I own Javen Derios.  Suing me is rather pointless since all you'll get is some lint and a piece of mint gum.

Author Notes:  This story is a sequel to my fic called 'Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye'.  I suggest that you read that one first or you will be terribly confused.  Still don't want to read it? Fine, here's the extremely watered down version.  Sirius is pardoned and Harry is living with him.  A 'friend' of Sirius', Javen Derios, faked Sirius' and Harry's deaths so he could have Harry to complete his revenge on those who had hurt him.  He ended up abusing Harry and Sirius came to his rescue.  Harry accidentally killed Javen and another man.  Harry and Javen had performed a spell that would link their minds and Javen used it to help control Harry's actions and thoughts.  When one dies, the link will threaten the other's life.  That becomes important in this.  There ya go!  78 pages in 6 sentences.  I'm good! ^_^

//…// means memories, flashbacks, or dreams.

/…/ are thoughts

Part 1: Through Him, With Him, In Him

//Sirius let out a harsh gasp for air as Javen kicked him fiercely in the side.  The wind was temporarily knocked out of him and he could do little more than struggle to breath on all fours.  Javen kicked him once more for emphasis and raised his wand against him like he had with Harry only minutes before.  Only this time, it was Sirius' life he sought to take.  "We'll all die here," he smiled, "But perhaps you first."

Harry struggled to get to his feet to save his fallen godfather, but the days of abuse had taken his toll on him and he found he could not.  Sirius met his eyes for an instant, his sapphire eyes usually so full of life beginning to dim.  He knew what awaited him at the tip of Javen's wand.

'I'm sorry,' his eyes pleaded with Harry, 'I'm sorry for not being sooner.  I'm sorry I failed you.  I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me.  I love you.'

Javen murmured the words to end Sirius' life.  And this time, Harry could not move to him in time.  He was pinned down by the fallen boulders, screaming for his godfather as the Avada Kedavra was spoken.

"Harry," Sirius gasped, reaching for him, "Harry, please…"

"Harry …wake up…please wake up…Harry…"//

"Harry! Wake up!  Please Harry!"

Harry awoke with a jerk, sitting upright as soon as he opened his eyes.  "Sirius!" he rasped, reaching out blindly.  Strong arms stopped him, mid reach and held him still.

"Blimey, Harry!  Calm down, will you!"  Ron struggled to stop his friend's frantic movements, "Oh, come on now, really!"

Slowly, Harry calmed down enough to take in his surroundings.  He was aware of Ron pinning him down with his superior weight and the bed sheets effectively wrapped up around him to make much movement near impossible.  He groaned, reaching up to feel his scar, which ached uncontrollably.

"Ron?" he murmured, "What happened?"

Ron sighed and got off his friend, sure that he was once again with the awake and sane.  "What happened!?  You took just about 5 years off my life, that's what happened!"  He grew calmer and his gaze became gentle.  "You dreamt about it again, didn't you?  You dreamt about Javen and Sirius.  I heard you calling out."

Harry shook his head to clear the nightmare from his mind.  "I'm sorry, Ron," he mumbled, embarrassed, "I didn't mean to wake you up again."

"It's alright. It was time to get up anyway."  Ron leaned over to Harry's nightstand and handed his friend his glasses so the world wouldn't seem so confusing and blurry.  "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked timidly, knowing how much the memories still haunted him.

Harry sighed, not meeting his friend's gaze, "It's the same that it's always been.  Back in the cave with Sirius and Javen.  Only I couldn't reach Sirius in time.  Javen…he killed him.  I wasn't fast enough…" his voice dropped down to a whisper as the details of the dream came back to him.  It was so real…

"Hey, listen," Ron insisted, determined not to let his friend go back into that depression that they had pulled him from during the rest of the summer, "It was just a dream, alright?  Javen is gone.  You saved Sirius.  He is fine.  You were fast enough."

"I-I know.  But it was so real.  It's like…Javen never really left."

"He's dead, Harry.  He's never coming back.  End of story."  Ron's voice was filled with such conviction that he was forced to believe him.  Harry smiled up at him.

"Thanks, Ron.  You've been a great help lately.  I'm sorry I keep waking you up."

"Yeah, well," Ron's ears turned pink at the gratitude, "Without you to stress over, what am I going to do with my life?  Besides, I promised Sirius that I'd keep you out of trouble."

Harry groaned.  If Sirius ever got word of his dreams, he would want to make sure that Harry was looked over by Madam Pomfrey as well as half a dozen doctors from St. Mungo's.  Since the incident with Javen over the summer Sirius was becoming even more protective of Harry than ever before.  It was time that Harry took responsibility for himself.  It was just a few nightmares.  He had to pull himself together.  He was 15 after all.

"Are you going to tell him?" asked Ron, voicing Harry's own thoughts.  Harry shook his head quickly.

"No.  Like you said, it's only a dream.  I don't want him worried for nothing.  Besides, he's too busy with the war right now."  Ron looked doubtful, but said nothing. 

Their other roommates had managed to stay asleep during Harry's nightmare and woke up about 15 minutes later.  Getting ready for classes was a silent affair since Harry was still contemplating his dream, and the others were too tired to worry about talking. 

It was about 2 weeks into school and Harry was finding that schoolwork, even the dreaded Potions classes, helped keep his mind off of the happenings of the previous summer when his life had nearly been ruined, if not ended.  For the most part, it worked.  Javen was becoming a distant memory in his mind that only served to remind him of his vulnerability.  But Javen was gone now.  Gone forever.  All he had to worry about now was the growing threat of Voldemort as he gained power across Britain.  That and his grades.  But he knew he was safe here.  No one could hurt him as long as he was in Hogwarts within Dumbledore's protection.  But what about Sirius?  How was he safe?

"Good morning, Ron.  Good morning Harry," Hermione greeted as they made their way down to breakfast.

"Morning, Hermione," Harry answered automatically like he did every morning.  He saw his two friends share a glance and he knew what they were thinking.  But they would wait until he was out of earshot before talking about it.  He knew what their conversation would be about.  Poor Harry.  How is he getting along?  Is he still having nightmares?  Does he still blame himself for those deaths?  What can we do to help?

Harry sighed.  He was fine, really.  Sure he was a little more subdued; but after what had happened to him that summer, who wouldn't be?  It was just a few nightmares.  He was fine.  Really he was…

His gaze turned to a young first year boy sitting next to Neville.  His light brown hair fell over two brilliantly blue eyes.  The 11 year old was tall for his age and his eyes, so eerie in their stare, indicated a hard life.  A life where he had seen too much too young.  But it wasn't the child's eyes that had disturbed Harry since returning to Hogwarts.  Nor was it the fact that when he looked at you, you would think he was seeing your very soul.  No, what was strange about the boy was his name.  Non-important to most of the students.  But an important name to one.  For, you see, the boy's name was Derios.  Robert Derios.

"Harry, Harry are you paying attention?"

"Huh?"  Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione who were both giving him odd looks.

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione sighed with fake reproach.  "How do you expect to pass your classes if you don't pay attention?"

"What is it?" he asked, ignoring the friendly jibe.

"Hedwig has a note for you," Ron supplied.  Harry looked down to his snowy owl who was looking back at him impatiently.  She appeared as though she had been waiting for a while.

"Oh, sorry, Hedwig," he apologized.  She hooted at him in disapproval and stuck out her leg, offering her letter.  He took it and watched as she flew away to the owlery.

"It's from Sirius," he explained, recognizing the handwriting.  "It says, 'Dear Harry, I hope you are feeling well and that your nightmares have stopped. /Well, he got one out of two/ I have been called by Dumbledore to perform a duty in America.  It seems that the war is beginning to spread to the witches in the U.S. and I am needed specifically to help contain it.  Unfortunately, I cannot have any contact with you as it may jeopardize your safety.  Do not worry about me.  I should be home for Christmas.  Keep up your studies and don't forget to see Dumbledore if you ever feel the need.  Tell Hermione and Ron I said hi.  With all my love, Sirius.'"

"Wow," breathed Ron, "He's going to America?  That is bloody awesome.  Bill got to go there last year on vacation."

"Ron," Hermione said, shooting him a look, "He's not going there on vacation.  It's going to be a very dangerous mission for Dumbledore."

"I know," Ron retorted, "But still.  It's America.  Land of the free and all that.  I'll bet he gets to fight loads of Death Ea…" he stopped, seeing the look on Harry's face.  "Aw, don't worry about it, Harry.  I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Ron's right, Harry," Hermione said soothingly, "Sirius can take care of himself.  He'll be fine.  Dumbledore wouldn't send him if he didn't think he could do it."

The boy nodded absently.  Of course Sirius could take care of himself.  He was the only man who ever escaped Azkaban alive after all.  That stood for something.  It was selfish of him to try to keep Sirius from performing his duties.  He had been alone for nearly 11 years of his life so he shouldn't whine about a few more months.  But then, why did it feel like he would be alone for so much longer than a few months?

/You won't be alone, you dolt/ he scolded himself.  /You still have Ron and Hermione and Remus.  You'll never be alone again.  Sirius promised you that when he took you home from the hospital./  He shook off his worries as paranoia and still shaken nerves courtesy of Javen Derios.

The rest of breakfast, Harry tried to make small talk with his friends without bringing up the war.  He noticed more and more often that that was the case among many of his classmates.  The coming war was affecting everyone despite what the Ministry or their denying parents said.  They could feel the growing darkness and fear like they could feel owls' wings as they swooped by.

When the time came to leave for the first class, Harry felt himself unconsciously leaving his friends' sides and head toward the young first year.  He could no longer hold off his curiosity; he needed to know.  But he hadn't a clue where to start.  The boy started for him.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" Robert asked seeing Harry at a sudden loss for words.  His voice was calm and composed, not like the other first years that had heard of him from their parents and books.

"Y-yeah, yeah I am," Harry said. /Come off it, Potter.  He's just a first year.  Don't get so clammy.  Speak up!/  "And you're Robert Derios, right?"

The boy nodded and they walked up the stairs together.  As it so happened, Robert's Transfiguration class was on the way to Harry's Double Divination.

"I was wondering, Robert…"

"Call me Rob," the boy requested as he made a face, "Robert makes me sound old."

"Sure.  Anyway Rob, I was wondering if…if you'd heard of a Javen Derios?  Is he a relative of yours?"  Harry let out a small breath of air.  There, he'd done it.  He'd asked.  One would think that it would be so easy to ask such a simple question after all he'd been through.  Unfortunately, his experience had the opposite effect on him and he feared the answer.

Rob took a while in answering, his bright blue eyes lowered to the floor as they walked.  For a moment, Harry thought he wouldn't answer and regretted ever asking.  Then, Rob turned to Harry.

"How do you know my father?"

Harry's breath hitched in his throat unexpectedly.  Javen had a son?  Oh God…

"Father?" Harry whispered without meaning to, "He was your father?"

"That's what I said," Rob answered harshly.  His gaze lowered again, "Sorry.  I didn't mean to snap at you.  It's just…what happened…it was just so sudden.  No one expected anything like that to happen."

"How did you…"

"My mother told me."

Harry didn't know why this news seemed to shock him so.  Why he should feel so sick that the boy before him was the son of the man who had abused and tried to turn him to the Dark Arts?  Rob looked as though he wanted to say more, but then the bell rang, calling him to class.  He looked back at the door to his classroom and then back at Harry regretfully.

"Listen, I can't talk now.  Can you meet me after dinner in the Common Room?  But not today…in a week?  Next Hogsmeade weekend?"

Harry found himself nodding, still trying to process what was happening.  The boy flashed him a grin and ran off to where Professor McGonagall was waiting impatiently.  Numbly, he put one foot in front of the other as he made his way to Divination where no doubt Trelawney and, more importantly, Ron were noting his absence.  He did not need to give anyone any more cause to worry about him.  If Sirius heard what was going on with his godson he would feel he had let Harry return to school too quickly.  He might return from his mission to pull Harry from school.  He couldn't let that happen.  One person, especially him, was not worth the freedom of countless wizards and muggles.

When he arrived at his classroom, everyone was already at work.  Apparently, the lesson for the day included more of those dreaded crystal balls.  His entrance did not go unnoticed however.  Thankfully, the Professor spared him one of her dire predictions, but would not bless him with total neglect.

"Where have you been, young man?" she asked a bit coolly.  He guessed she was still a little cross with him for not dying like she had predicted him to a thousand times.  The nerve of some of her students…

"I…I had to talk to someone.  Sorry I'm late," he finished lamely.  She did not buy it, nor did he expect her to.  However, she didn't bother to question him further.

"Very well.  5 points from Gryffindor for your lateness.  Now get to your seat."  He moved to where Ron was sitting, but she stopped him midway, her bug-like eyes narrowing.  "Not there.  I feel that you two together have a detrimental effect on the Inner Eyes of this room.  Sit over there by Miss Patil."

Grudgingly he did as he was told and found himself sitting across from one of Trelawney's protégés.  Parvati looked at him with big watery eyes.  She must have adopted that piteous look from their Professor who nearly always looked at Harry with a mournful gaze.

He just barely stopped himself from snapping at her to stop the act.  He had enough of it from Trelawney and he didn't need it from her.  She seemed to get the idea from the glint in his eyes, for she returned to work and didn't acknowledge him for the rest of class.  He looked over at Ron and saw that he was stuck with Lavender for the class.  So at least Harry wasn't the only one having a 'serious' class for once.  Ron looked just as 'amused' as Harry as well.  Harry was slightly comforted by this for a moment.  Misery, after all, loved company.

He sighed and tried to make it look like he was actually working when he was really just daydreaming into the crystal ball.  His mind felt like the ball right then.  Cloudy and obscure.  So many things were running through it, he couldn't make any sense of it.

//The stone angel lay shattered at Harry's feet.  He fell to his knees as a new explosion ripped through the house, shaking the very foundations.  He could feel the darkness swirling around him as the Death Eaters drew near.  Through dusty eyes he could see Sirius standing over him, his wand drawn and his eyes flashing dangerously.  Only he wasn't facing the Death Eaters like before.  He was turned to Harry!

"You betrayed me," he hissed, "All I wanted was to make you happy.  Look what you've done!  You've destroyed it all!"

"Sirius…dad no!" Harry cried, huddled in the corner where he had backed away.  His hand felt feebly behind him as he backed away from Sirius.  A shard of the stone angel sliced into his hand, but he didn't notice.  He was too focused on Sirius who was slowly advancing on him.

"Don't you ever call me that again," Sirius seethed, his wand shaking as he pointed it at the boy.  "Traitor!"

"Dad!"  Harry cried out, his hands clumsily shielding his face.//

The next thing he was aware of was the feel of the soft carpet of Trelawney's room.  Voices were muffled, but he could hear the frightened yells of Ron and Neville calling to him.  Everything was a blur until the Professor maintained order.

"Back away all of you!" she cried, pushing the students away from him, "Mr. Weasley, now!"

Harry tried to focus his blurry eyes on anything, but found it difficult.  He then realized that his glasses were nowhere near him.  In fact, he was nowhere near anything recognizable.  His seat was at least 10 feet away from where he was then.  He had somehow managed to flee to the farthest corner of the classroom without knowing it.

"Harry, Harry are you alright?  What did you see?" asked the Professor who seemed to be more interested in some vision than his actual condition.

She placed his glasses back over his eyes and he could see clearly at last.  The rest of the class except for Ron was huddled on the other side of the room.  They looked at him with wide fearful eyes as though he would suddenly attack them all.  Ron was ignoring the Professor's instructions and knelt by his friend.

"What did you see?" pressed Trelawney excitedly.  "You called out for your father.  What did he tell you?  A message from beyond the grave?  A warning?"

"N-no," he rasped out, "I'm fine.  It was nothing."

"My dear," she scolded, "It was not nothing.  You were positively livid with fear.  Something must have happened."

"I must have drifted off," he insisted, not wanting to tell her what happened, "It was just a dream."

She looked as though she would say more, but Ron cut in.  "Blimey, Harry!" he exclaimed, "Your hand!"

Harry looked down at his hand and found it covered in blood.  However, when he looked around, he could find no source of the cut.  There were no pointy objects within reach and if he looked closely, he thought he could see a part of the angel still imbedded in his skin.  He was still bleeding freely and was beginning to stain the soft carpet of the classroom.  Disappointed in her student's closed mouth, Professor Trelawney allowed Harry to go to the Hospital Wing to get his cut attended to although she had also noticed that there was no way he could have received the cut alone.

As Harry walked down the halls, he thought back to his dream.  It was not like what really happened, so why should he be having it?  He hadn't noticed when he drifted off and surely Parvati would have alerted him if he was yelling out.  What was going on?  And why did he feel like it wasn't over?  As much as he would like to deny it, Javen was still a part of him.  Their link was not destroyed with the man's death and he feared that the growing darkness was not just because of Voldemort.  No, Javen's accursed memory was kept alive by Harry who was still not able to let go of his experience.  Still with him, through him, in him.