Summary: Harry was too deep in love with the wrong person, and he would do everything for him. Everything. Just for a second of appreciation, a second of mutual love. which, fate would never grant him of course.
Warning: torture, angst, kind of incest.
Rate: M for intense feeling.
Disclaimer: HP is not mine.
Harry knew that if someone (suspiciously with greasy hair and black robes) performed legilimency at him now, they would curled in disgust and called him a freak amongst freaks.
He was too deep in love with a very wrong person to love; the boy loved his own Godfather, one Sirius Black.
Harry always found the reason to think about it—after all, he came from a very bleak background, knowing nothing of love when he was growing up, and so it gave him the reason to say he didn't know the difference between familial love and erotic love. Also, being offered love made Harry wanted to cry from happiness-and very eager to give anything in return to maintain the love he was given. He didn't care what type of love—as long as it was labelled love.
Thus; based on that logic, Harry couldn't differentiate the love he was giving to the other party—whether it was familial or spousal love.
Another reason was because, of course, Sirius Black, the suspected Azkaban escapee, was actually the only person who offered—offered!—Harry to life with him mere hours after meeting Harry. It was a novel thing, since when he was small; the Dursley had made sure that nobody in the neighbourhood liked Harry enough to question why he wore clothes three sizes different. It became so normal in Harry's experience that he was judged mere hours—or even minutes—of meeting someone new, usually courtesy to the negative comment his relatives made to the said new person.
The next reason was Sirius as a guardian was a very appealing offer—and intimate, if Harry could admit it loud. He never has a guardian in his life before, Harry was the most independent as a child could be, and now he was offered to have a guardian, who was not only handsome, but also immune to Harry's unavoidable fame. He was the epitome of independent, not by choice but by necessity, and someone offering to guard him, to support him, made Harry's needy 3 years old heart jumped in joy and delight, Harry felt his eyes wet for a second.
Sirius also flirty by nature—Harry had managed to manipulate his ex-DADA werewolf teacher to tell him everything about supposedly his father (and by default, including Sirius) in their Hogwarts Years. What he heard made him very relieved—Sirius was a born playboy (And if Remus ever suspected why Harry paid more attention t Sirius' history rather than James', Harry never cared). He couldn't settle for one person, always moving from one to the next. And it was perfect, for Harry. He didn't need devotion. He has all the devotion in the world enough for both of them. He just needed the chance for Sirius to actually see him in that kind of light.
And last but most importantly, Harry knew Sirius was bi. He could do it with both genders. So Sirius was perfect.
So Harry spent his third year summer holiday in daydreaming about his Godfather. Miraculously, that prevented him from feeling any verbal and physical abuse The Dursley gave him those time—he didn't care. Harry had someone to love.
He only needed to make Sirius love him back, even just for a second.
Harry wasn't sure how much letter could he send to Sirius per week, so he settled for twice per week. He so wanted to write ten times a day, but frankly Hedwig would be very tired and it would be very detrimental to Sirius' hiding situation.
So he settled for twice a week, filling the parchment from end to end.
He told Sirius about all that good about him—he told Sirius how Remus was proud of Harry because Harry mastered patronus in a year; he told Sirius how Hagrid was happy with Harry because Harry helped him find Noert the baby dragon a home; he told Sirius how happy Ron was being Harry's friend, because Harry was loyal and friendly and everything Gryffindor. He told Sirius about how proud Hermione was of Harry because Harry actually managed to stay in the top fifteen of their year. Harry tried his best to write the best out him, and conveniently forgetting the rest of him—the small him, who always afraid of Uncle Vernon; the child Harry who hated but helpless against his cousin's bully; the desperate Harry who was afraid that magic wouldn't accept him and he would have no friend in Hogwarts.
And in the end of every letter, Harry wrote in very small, tiny letter, a foot note, saying:
When can I live with you?
It was bittersweet, but it made Harry very happy. After all, hope wasn't something he usually could indulge in.
It started from then, and when Harry finally met Sirius again in the rocks hills behind Hogsmeade, Harry couldn't leave Padfoot alone. He couldn't leave the thin, frail looking man. Harry could protect Sirius if Sirius would allow him. Harry would give everything, anything, to stay with Padfoot and kept the animagus well. He didn't quite listen what they were saying, Sirius and Ron and Hermione, something about Kakaroff as an ex-death eater; all he thought about was how could they did it to Harry—They were talking and hoarding Sirius' attention to themselves, while Sirius was actually Harry's Godfather!
When it was time for them to return to Hogwarts, Harry told them he wanted to stay with Sirius a bit longer, and so the two third of the Gryffindor trio left without him. He then sat beside Sirius and watched as his Godfather laughed and enjoyed the food they gave him. They talked about the letters, Harry's current situation, and Sirius' encouragement. The boy was in heaven, enjoying the sole attention from Sirius. Harry so wanted to discuss about everything under the sun with Sirius, because everything seemed interesting while watching Sirius laughed.
And when the time came for Harry to return, Harry didn't want to go; and he held onto that feeling as he latched himself to the man he loved, ignoring the smell and the roughness of Sirius' body; all he needed was just more time to be together, to sit beside his only person who would love him.
When Harry panicked about how he would pass through the dragon, Sirius' face on the fireplace was something that gave him a tremendous strength to actually succeed and be number one, to actually prove the crowd that Harry Potter was the boy who could do everything, so he could be lovable and worthy enough of Sirius Black's attention and love.
He managed to pass through the dragon, and he was glad when he was said to be the first! He couldn't believe it, he actually did it! Everything was good, and Harry looked forward to meet Sirius again the next week. But Hermione and Ron forbid him to go, because they said Harry could jeopardize Sirius' hiding place with too many visit.
Harry settled with letter, giving details blow by blow of why passing through dragons should make one be proud of Harry Potter and found the boy worthy of love.
When Harry ended up in the cemetery (he managed to safe Cedric from being avada'ed mere second before the curse came by forcing Cedric to touch the cup again), he watched from his tied position as the traitor whom called Peter Pettigrew made the Voldemort potion.
He watched as his blood was given, unwillingly, into the pot.
He listened and didn't give any indication of any emotion when Voldemort said out loud his monologue as the evil Dark Lord. Harry didn't care. All he wanted to make sure was that Voldemort, whom he indirectly had helped to give rise back, wouldn't jeopardize the safety of Sirius Black.
So before the duel started, Harry threw his wand away , hands up in the air, signalling he surrendered. He was mocked by everyone, and mostly by Voldemort himself. Harry didn't care. He made a deal with Voldemort. He would kill himself or do whatever Voldemort wanted, as long as his most important person would not get hurt.
Voldemort was intrigued, and so he rewarded Harry with personal audience. He casted silencing bubble around them; and stood there, waiting for Harry to say who the name was.
"I want a wizard oath." Harry said, confidently. It was fortunate that they learned it just mere weeks before the final task. "I need your word on your magic, Voldemort."
"Alright, I will grant you this, for you are my only true enemy." The snake man hissed and gave Harry his wand. He called upon Nott to help them bond, and Harry spoke the name of his most loved person in the world.
"Swore by your magic you would never harm Sirius Black, directly or indirectly."
When the oath was finished, Harry let himself be tortured by crucios for hours. Days. As long as Voldemort wanted. He didn't care. He had to protect Sirius from harm. And he was doing the best he could.
When they finally found him, Harry was not in human shaped anymore.
It took the St Mungos weeks to finally recover Harry's skin into a normal human hue—from black, blue, green and purple-ish. It took them a month to make sure his kidney and liver wouldn't suddenly shut down. It took them two weeks to make sure Harry's limbs were still functioning, and it took them the whole time to make sure Harry retained his face as a human.
Harry refused to look at mirror; he knew how hideous he was. He was ready to die, and now he was still alive but alive with disfigured body. He wasn't sure whether Sirius' natural playboyness would accept a disfigured invalid on the bed. it was rather scary, and for days he tried to make sure that Sirius couldn't see him.
Apparently (Hermione and Ron cried while explaining it to him) that Cedric quickly returned and told Dumbledore, who opened the portkey again. They were only an hour late; it was because they needed to catch Crouch Junior before he ran away. Harry could find fault in it—he always could. Dumbledore should activated the portkey straightaway and Voldemort wouldn't have time to torture him, or even return; but no. for Dumbledore it was always the Greater Good first. But Harry was not angry. He knew that he was expendable for the rest of the world. He was nothing but an unwanted orphan anyway.
When he finally saw Sirius, he couldn't hide his tears. Everybody thought it was because of the pain, but no. They didn't know Harry. They didn't understand Harry Potter. Harry was crying because of fear and embarrassment. Would his current disfigurement enough for Sirius' vanity standard? What if it didn't? Harry wouldn't be able to face the world if Sirius rejected him.
But it seemed Sirius was happy he was alive. In Sirius' hug, Harry thrived and started to sob from relief. Good Merlin, Sirius still able to accept him. Although Harry was a useless, almost dead, disfigured boy of fifteen, Sirius still wanted him. it brought smile to his face as he sobbed, relief and relief and happy.
Three days have passed, and Harry started to want to know how bad he looked like at the moment. They kept a mirror beside the bed; but Harry never tried to touch it. He was still undeniably in pain whenever he moved his used-to-be-severed arms around.
Sirius entered the room, hand in hand with Remus. Harry didn't notice the second person before they finally took a seat beside his bed, and their hands linked through and through.
"Harry," Remus started. "We have been thinking, Sirius and I. We want you to come to our place and lived with us."
Harry slowly stared at both of them, but he was most interested about the current situation of hand holding between the two grown men.
"Why are you… holding hands?"
Both of them flushed, and finally Sirius spoke out. "I hope you don't mind us, Harry. We … We love each other."
Harry's frozen face made Remus quickly added, "But if you are uncomfortable with homosexual relationship, we can break up…"
Harry didn't care about it. All he cared was his chance has gone. His love, his thriving hope, his love, was crumbling in front of him.
"Since when?" Harry managed to raspy ask.
"..Since the Hogwarts year, but we just became together a week before… the Final task." Remus flushed, looking insecure with Harry's cold reception.
The boy didn't know what to say, or what to do. He unconsciously tilted his head.
"Can you two hold the mirror in front of me? I want to see my face now."
Both of them looked at each other, and they gave Harry his wish. Harry closed his eyes and opened, greeted by an alien face he would never admit was his.
His nose was the only thing that quite resembled a human. His eyelids were uneven, his eyebrows marred by sliced scars, his cheek hollowed and discoloured, clearly he had been granted a skin graft transplant. His lips were horribly swollen and ugly and his chin were gone—it was not there, as if somebody cut it off an left the face without the angle people has as chin.
"Is… Is this why?" Harry tried his best to reason. "Is this why you won't choose me?"
"Is this … ugly me, the reason why you won't love me?" Harry turned to Sirius. "Is this why you don't choose me as your lover? Is this the reason why I can't be yours?"
"Ha..Harry, what are you talking about?"
"I love you, Sirius. I love you so much it hurts. I did everything for you. I honestly did." Tears started to drop on Harry's chin—and the boy saw how horrible it was looking now, when he saw his image on the wall. Even he couldn't cry like a normal person. He looked like a monster now. "I have been in love with you ever since the third year summer. I have been trying. I will be good, I am always, but I will be better. So can't you love me? Can't you choose me?"
"Harry, please." Sirius' eyes started to wet, "Please don't cry. Please explain to me. What do you mean?"
"Didn't you tell me you want to live with me? Didn't you say you will be my family? Be mine? Didn't you say that you are proud of me? Why won't you choose me then? I have tried so hard! I have tried my best! I even let Voldemort torture me for you! Why do you choose him? Why? WHY!?"
"Harry, we never know…" Sirius answered back. "Were you… were you tortured because of me?"
"Is it not enough, Sirius? What should I do then? I will do it! Give me time to recover, then I will do it! I am sure I can do everything for you. So choose me. Please." Harry sobbed and he painfully tried to touch Sirius' hand. "Please…"
When their skin touched, Sirius unconsciously moved back.
The soft gesture was enough for Harry to show that Sirius didn't love him back. It was futile. Everything he did was futile. Sirius didn't love him. Sirius didn't choose him. His love was futile. It was one sided love. Sirius never did love him. What went wrong? What?
Everything crumbled around Harry. His fate was too cruel. Nobody loves him. no matter what he did, nobody would love him. People whom he loved would never love him back.
It was futile. Futile. Futile.
Harry Potter was the idiot of the millennia.
"GET OUT." Harry screamed. "GET OUT!"
When finally the two men left, Harry immersed in the loneliness of the room and the silence. He was in pain, broken and empty. What should he do now?