Months without update. I am preparing Missing in the middle and The death wish. I am sorry for the lateness. To be frank I dont even know why I still update. My gosh.
What do you want to do with your life?
Harry opened his eyes to find his cheek wet and his eyes dry. He blinked a few times before realizing that once more, he had woken up from a nightmare. Almost every dream was nightmare, if Harry wanted to be honest with himself. Because almost every dream he had now included him, Sirius and a beautiful house beside the forest where everything was peaceful and Sirius would always be with him and Sirius loved him.
The tears weren't foreign. It has always marked the nights when Harry dreamt his nightmare. It was always bittersweet and painful when he found himself waking up with wet cheek because he knew, just the last few seconds before he was forced to face the reality of his worthless life, the happy Harry in the dream were calling Sirius so that he wouldn't be awaken.
He had settled to the fact that he was born not to be loved. So he indulged himself in those nightmares when the Harry in his dreams were loved by people—his parents were alive in some, in others the Dursley actually cared and treated him like their own son Duddley, and in every ingle on of them, he had Sirius beside him, whispering 'I love you, Harry, only you'. And yet, he knowingly branded those dreams as nightmares, because otherwise, his real life was a never ending nightmare.
"Potter, are you alright?"
Harry almost showed his surprise from being caught unguarded, but the gap between his mind and his body control he had been cultivated ever since he became Voldermort's hit wizard saved him from jumping off his skin. He turned to see that Draco Malfoy was standing beside his bed.
It was strange that the blond man was there, but Harry didn't blame him. His door was without lock anyway, because Voldemort wanted to make sure that Harry didn;t get any privacy that enable him to run away. Not like he needed it, Harry mussed. He never had privacy. The only private thing he had was his emotion to Sirius. Which was why it hurt him so much.
"…Nevermind." The blond sighed and walked towards the door. "Our Lord asks you to come to breakfast when you are ready."
Harry nodded and let himself rise from the bed, but his body refused. Instead, he felt his limbs started to shake and unbearable pain started to whisk his composure. He let out a strangled voice, and his body started having seizures.
Time passed too quickly—the pain was playing with his head—Harry couldn't think clearly—pain has become somekind of baseline feelings—and suddenly there was no pain at all—and the voices were calling onto him—and Harry found himself floating in a cloud.
He opened his eyes to find he was on his side, mouth gagged by a cloth to make sure he didn't bit off his tongue in his usual seizure attack and his cheek full of drools. His body were still stiff and uncomfortable, but now he could think like normal.
"Potter, can you hear me?"
Harry nodded quickly, trying to calm his heart down. He started to regain his body control, and slowly he raised his arm to loosen up the gag he had on his mouth.
"Can you walk?"
Harry slowly rose, using his upper body strength, before slowly climbed back onto his shaky legs. His personal healer was squatting down beside him—Harry realized he was laying on top the carpeted floor of Malfoy Manor. His healer took his right arm and together with another person on his left—Harry caught the smell of Draco's hair product, so maybe it was Draco—he wasn't sure everything was still spinning—Harry finally put onto his bed back.
"How is he?"
Without even opening his eyes, Harry knew the voice must be Voldemort's. it was always like that, he found himself awake from his seizure/heart attacks to find his healer and Voldemort beside his bed, the later one asking the other whether Harry would be fit to carry out the duty for today.
"I am sorry, my Lord, but I think Harry may not be able to control his body for at least half a day. This seizure is shorter than usual, but with the recent frequency of his seizures and attacks, I recommend another full body check."
Harry wished he didn't hear that. It was like listening to his sentence: His body is no longer useful. Just a little more time before his body stopped functioning. Just a little more time before Harry is really worthless. But he couldn't die, not with Voldemort living, because the Dark Lord wouldn't let anything kill him, now that Harry was one of his 'Hocrux'es—anchors to this world.
Harry opened his eyes. "I can. Just give me a second."
"What can you do, Potter?" an annoying voice but with underlying tone of concern asked him. Harry noticed that it was Draco's annoying screeches. "You can't even walk properly!"
"I can do whatever you want me to do today." Harry ignored the annoying voice, knowing full well that Voldemort didn't care about his health as much as the safety of his own soul inside Harry. "I will be ready in a minute."
"Draco is right, Harry Potter." Voldemort hissed, almost in parseltounge. Harry turned to him, the noseless monster who wasn't his enemy, but his protector now. "You should stay and rest—regain your energy."
Harry sighed. "Can I have my mask back?" he felt naked without those. He always put it on whenever he woke up, but this morning's seizure left him no time to put on the mask.
"I don't recommend you wearing that today, Mr. Potter." His healer pushed a vial of special concoction made for Harry due to his unique condition—it was some sort of pepper up laced with many addictive drugs that gives instant energy—something to boost Harry's frazzled nerve. "The mask cut off some of your respiration, and since you are having nerve over stimulation, lacking air is not recommended."
One would think the reverse, but Harry couldn't be bothered to response. So he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sudden jolt of energy that came through his stomach—the shot of drugs and pepper up was very, very welcome.
"Once he regains his control, you have my permission to have full body check on him." Voldemort calmly ordered before walked away. The healer did the same, but Harry still felt a person staying in his room.
"… Why are you staying, Draco?"
The person flinched.
"Ju..Just making sure that my partner is not dead. The Dark Lord will be very pissed with me if you are. Just so you know."
How true it was. Voldemort paired Harry with Malfoy to make sure Harry didn't 'accidentally' killed himself. And Harry, as much as he was a walking corpse, was still a Gryffindor. Deep down, loyalty was what defined Harry as what he was. The loyalty which sickeningly rendered him to the desperate love to Sirius. The loyalty which now prevented him from doing whatever he wanted because Harry knew that if something happened to him, his life was not the only one who would end.
"…why did you call him?" Draco continued, in whisper. "Do you think he would come and snatch you away from the Dark Lord?"
"Who?" Harry raised his eyebrows. The potion was really strong. He felt like he was going to explode soon from the tension between his muscles. His blood was pumping hard. The rush, it was coming, it climbed up in high speed, and it would end at one point where everything would crash down and Harry would lost his consciousness until the next time he woke crying because he wanted to stay with the Sirius in his dream.
Sirius still didn't like to step into the Diagon Alley in daylight. People still watched him with distrust despite his cleaned reputation. The brand of being a Death Eater was still imprinted deep inside people that the truth was forgotten.
But he was there with a small mission. He needed to restock his potions especially for Remus, who just had his transformation two days before. Pepper up, pain relief, and wolfsbane are some of the potions he needed. He could order them through post-owl, but it was better to personally come to the apothecary and made sure that his order was made properly. Furthermore, Remus kept urging him to get out from the house, to search for fresh air.
Looking around, Sirius saw the Quidditch shop. He smiled sadly, wondering if only he still had Harry by his side, he would indulge the boy with so many things from the shop. He would even buy the shop for Harry, his precious Godson. But the joy of enjoying Quidditch disappeared with time, as they still couldn't find Harry. Funny how he could be uncomfortable with Quidditch, something he used to be obsessed with back then, when all his worry was about whether he would be caught on his latest pranks with the other Marauders. James, Remus, Sirius… and Peter.
Sirius grimaced and spitted on the road when he remembered the traitorous rat, bitter on how the rat still could hurt him even after his well-deserved death (apparently Peter has lost his usefulness for Voldemort once the Dark Lord gained his body back. Not long after Harry's disappearance, they found Peter's head—just head and no body—sent in a nice package in front of the Grimmauld Place number twelve).
He walked towards the apothecary, just when suddenly a dark cloaked man came in front of him and grabbed his wrist. Sirius was surprised and took out his wand in reflex, but then he started to recognize the man in front of him.
"Black, I need to talk to you about something." The man with platinum blond hair under the cloak and grey eyes whispered. "Please. This is about Potter."
Sirius stopped breathing for a second before he nodded softly. The cloaked figure moved graciously towards the small dead-end alley behind the apothecary, and Sirius, despite knowing that must be a trap, followed Draco. He just needed to have something, any information about his Godson. He really missed Harry, and he really hoped that his precious Harry was alive.
"What do you want, Malfoy? I warn you, if you are tricking me, I won't surrender easily."
"…We are still cousins, you know." Malfoy hissed. "Black won't hurt another Black. But this is not the problem at the moment. I just need you to listen."
"…I am listening."
"Do you… Do you care about Potter?"
Sirius' eyes clouded with anger. "Why you are asking me that?"
"Because he really needs you and he is dying." Malfoy looked away. "And I don't like watching him dying like this."
"You know where he is!?"
"He is under the watchful eyes of the Dark Lord's." Malfoy whispered. "The Dark Lord won't let Potter go, especially since Potter has become so valuable in his eyes. But Potter is dying and didn't care that he is dying. Watching Potter waking up everyday is like watching a pathetic excuse of a life. I want to know whether you can safe him. Take him off from all this war. He wouldn't last long. Not in this rate."
"Harry is dying… where is he!?" Sirius growled and snatched Malfoy's hand. The blond shook his head.
"I can't tell you, it's under fidelius. But I can tell you when the next time he will be out on public, and I want you to get him by that chance. There is only one chance for us to get him out of The Dark Lord's protection. I am betting my own life here, so I expect you to be serious too."
Sirius eyed the blond man distrustfully. But somehow he could sense that Malfoy was really serious. And so he nodded.
"I need you to swear a vow against telling Albus Dumbledore."
"I won't even tell the old coot." Sirius scowled, thinking how irritating the old man has been ever since they lost Harry. "He is one of the main reasons why Harry disappeared. But are you sure you know where Harry is? I have been searching for him, and I still don't have any trail of him…"
"It's because he was in catatonic and healing state until quite recently." Malfoy sneered. "You should be proud of yourself, Black. The light side proclaimed that they are the good people, but look what you have done to your own saviour. Harry was not even human anymore when the Dark Lord got him. You should be ashamed of yourself."
Sirius blushed. Because he couldn't retort any of that. Yes, Harry was hurt because of him. Yes, Dumbledore, the so called leader of the Light was no better than Voldemort. And Sirius was wholly to blame for Harry's current predicament, because as Harry's godfather he was the one who should be protecting Harry, and not the other way around. So Sirius was as guilty, or even guiltier than the rest of them.
The last Black fortune heir nodded his head. He took his wand and Malfoy followed his stature. They pronounced their vow to each other, and their magick binding both of them. Malfoy pulled down his wand in satisfaction.
"Anyway, Potter will be going with me to our next raid… so I will owl you when." Malfoy whispered. "…Please make sure you don't fail him, Black. He needs you more than he needs anybody else right now."
Black nodded. Before Malfoy apparated away, Sirius swore he could see Draco Malfoy's wet cheek.
TBC. I wish the next is the last chapter. lets see.