Chapter Text
A fierce battle raged all around them, and Harry saw a red spell fly towards Sirius but he ducked neatly, laughing and goading his cousin. The second spell hit him squarely in the chest.
Harry saw from his place besides Neville as his godfather disappeared behind the veil, a look of mingled shock and fear on his face. When Sirius didn’t reappear, he sprinted after him, but Lupin grabbed him around the chest, holding him back.
Harry screamed for him to save Sirius but Lupin didn’t listen. He couldn’t believe Lupin would give up so easily on his only remaining best friend, without even trying.
‘He can’t come back, Harry,’ said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. ‘He can’t come back, because he’s d––’
‘HE – IS – NOT – DEAD!’ roared Harry. ‘SIRIUS!’
“Harry—”
“Let me go!” Harry screamed, and this time his voice broke. No one was helping Sirius just like no one had helped him all those years ago. He felt so angry – at Lupin and the Order for not helping Sirius, and at Sirius himself for not coming back when Harry was scared and yelling for him.
He must be trapped there, or he wouldn’t have kept him waiting, he never did before when Harry needed him. But no matter. He, Harry won’t leave him alone again. If no one was going to help him save Sirius, he knew he’d have to do it himself.
He let Lupin drag him back a few steps, and slowly stopped struggling. Lupin, relieved by this, let go of his tight hold around his chest and went to grab his arm but that second of lapse was all Harry needed.
He sprinted faster than he ever had in his life. He heard Lupin and Dumbledore’s shocked voices calling his name, but he ignored them. He had to get to Sirius.
He saw a flash of red flying towards him, and ducked, not even caring if it came from friend or foe. No one was going to stop him today.
Someone was running towards him from the side, and he heard Lupin’s fast footsteps running towards him from behind, and he ran even faster. There was a whisper from the veil, and Harry could bet that it was Sirius’ voice. His heart raced. And before anyone could reach him again, Harry ran through the veil that had trapped his godfather.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The first time Sirius came back to consciousness he was only half aware of his surroundings. His brain refused to work properly. His limbs felt so heavy he couldn’t even twitch a finger, his mouth and throat were dry, and his vision was blurry. Even keeping his eyes open was a struggle.
A flash of movement to his side, and then a black-haired person came into his field of vision.
“Sirius?”
The blur of coloured blobs that he had woken up to had slowly turned into figures that were only slightly less hazy. He blinked his eyes to clear his vision but it only made it a little better. Still, he could see the person leaning over him - messy black hair, and wearing glasses. The voice was familiar too.
He felt a wave of relief and affection at finding his godson there that made him relax.
“Sirius?”
Harry had picked up his hand and was holding on to it, sounding worried now. Sirius tried to reassure him but found his throat too dry to make anything more than a croaking noise.
Harry let go of his hand and moved away for a moment before coming back and helping him take a few sips of water from a glass.
The glass was put away, and his palm was once more held securely.
“Harry.” Sirius called weakly, heaving slightly, feeling as through he had used all the air in the room to say that one word.
Harry froze.
“’kay?” Sirius pushed himself to ask, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Harry squeezed his hand tightly. “I’m okay.” He whispered equally quietly. “Go to sleep. I’ll see you again later, when you wake up.”
“Goin’?” Sirius slurred, already feeling sleepy.
“Yeah. But don’t worry. I’ll be back.”
“Be…safe.” Sirius whispered before drifting off to sleep once more, neither hearing the reply from the other person nor noticing the tears that fell on his hand.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The next time Sirius awoke his mind was much clearer than the last. He didn’t remember much of that time but he was sure Harry was there. Had they talked? Was there anyone else? Or was it all a dream and he had only now awoken for the first time since being hit at the Ministry?
He tried to look around but found moving even a little made him dizzy. His vision was still a bit unfocussed, and trying to focus on anything made his head ache. He also felt too weak, so not moving wasn’t much of a problem. He didn’t even have the energy to mind his helplessness.
He closed his eyes and let his mind wander.
He was at a hospital, and he assumed it was St. Mungo’s. So, he had been caught at last. Was he under arrest now? It would be safe to assume so, he guessed, since he was caught at the Ministry of Magic of all places. That must have surprised the aurors, except at least two aurors were fighting right beside him. And the Minister. Oh, how he would have liked to see that fool’s face when he realised that the man he and his entire ministry had been hunting for three years had broken into his den, Britain’s most secure place.
But why hadn’t they gotten him Kissed? Dumbledore must have intervened. Only, Dumbledore didn’t have the sway that he once had. Were they waiting for him to be treated and fully aware of having his soul sucked, then? To truly feel the pain and horror?
“Mr. Black. Good to see you awake once more.” A calm voice greeted from the door.
Sirius jerked in surprise, then winced at the pain in his chest where Bella had struck him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The man – a healer, he realised now – said walking up to him. “I’m Healer Fay, by the way. I’m the one looking over your case. I was alerted when you came to consciousness. I’ll be doing some routine checks, if you don’t mind?” Before Sirius could respond, the healer went on to do just that. Sirius wanted to roll his eyes but he had more pressing matters to worry about.
This healer didn’t look frightened of him. Did that mean that they had found out the truth, or was it just his professional mask? The man looked old enough to have mastered it. He wanted to ask what had happened at the ministry but didn’t know if this was the right person to ask.
Above all, he wanted to know if Harry was alright? He still wasn’t sure if the last time he had seen him had been a reality or a dream. If it were a dream, and the people here didn’t know that Harry had been in contact with him the past couple of years, then asking after him or showing any kind of familiarity would put the kid in a much harder position than he was already in because of the Ministry’s smear campaign.
He wished he could find a familiar face here – someone from the Order, maybe. He’d even take Molly’s presence if it meant he could have some news of Harry. Because now that the thought had occurred to him, he felt desperate to see his godson, to know for certain that he was safe.
Unill then he had only thought of his capture by the ministry but suddenly that didn’t seem to matter all that much.
As long as Harry was safe, he could take anything.
He remembered now with haunting clarity Harry’s shocked face, running towards the arch, reaching for him. And even after his face faded from his vision as he was sucked into a void, his pain-filled screams, yelling for him as though his life depended on it.
With these thoughts, came a sudden, deep conviction that something bad had happened, that something fundamental to his existence had changed. His heart filled with dread with the sudden notion that he had lost his godson forever. He tried to dispel that thought – and failed. It was an all-consuming fear, something that he had been struggling with since Voldemort had come back. And now…
Oh Merlin, not him too…not Harry. Anything but that. He had already lost James and Lily; Harry was the only family he had left, and no matter how bad he sometimes was at expressing it, that child meant everything to him. He hoped that if he had to lose him, it was because he, Sirius was being taken to Azkaban, or even being given the Dememtor’s kiss, not because something had happened to the kid.
He had a sudden flash of memory – seeing Harry’s dead body. For a moment, his breath hitched, but then he remembered. It was only a boggart – Molly’s boggart.
“Easy, Mr. Black.” The healer instructed suddenly, and Sirius tried to calm his mind. It was hard with so many negative thoughts roaming in his head. But he had to believe that Harry was alright. There was no other way.
“You may go back to sleep if you feel like it.”
And sure enough, he felt tired again. Within a few minutes, he was drifting back into a restless sleep.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The next time, he heard voices near him before he had opened his eyes. He kept his eyes closed and listened to them, trying to figure out what was going on.
He was happily surprised to find that his head felt much clearer than the last time. He found it easy to focus on sounds. Hopefully, it would be the same for his sight.
There were two men, and Sirius was happy to recognise them as his fellow Order members, Moody and Shacklebolt. He opened his eyes a little cautiously, and finding no one else in the room, opened them completely.
The two men were chatting about the Department of Mysteries, but as soon as he opened his eyes, they noticed and came near him.
“Sirius. Awake at last. Good.” Moody said.
Sirius nodded, and happily noted that it didn’t make him even a little dizzy, although he still felt weak. But he had more pressing concerns to address.
“H…Harry? Where’s Harry?” Sirius croaked.
Moody and Kingsley shared a look and then back at him.
“Harry, who?” Kingsley asked cautiously.
“Wh…excuse me? Is this a joke?” Sirius asked angrily, his voice a little raspy. “How many people named Harry do we all know of? Harry Potter, damn it! How’s he?” He ended up coughing because of his dry throat, and winced at the sharp pain it brought up in his chest.
Kingsley went to say something when Moody cleared his throat, stopping him. Sirius and Kingsley both looked towards him, who threw a quick look at his colleague signalling him to keep quiet.
“Sirius. You should be resting right now, not stressing over things. We'll talk about other things when we come back later.”
“Resting?” Sirius hissed through gritted teeth. “You won't tell me anything about...and you say...” he took a deep breath. “You know what? I'll check for myself.” He swung his legs off the bed, but as soon as he tried to stand, he felt a sharp pain in his chest where Bellatrix's spell had struck and he stumbled. Kingsley immediately helped him back into the bed.
Sirius grabbed his chest and wheezed, trying to get his breath back but it only made the pain worse. A vial was pushed to his mouth and he quickly swallowed the potion, recognising the pain-relief medicine.
Within seconds, the pain had dulled some. He looked up at the mediwitch who had helped him (he assumed Moody or Kingsley had alerted her) and nodded his thanks. She helped him lay down and he cooperated without protest, suddenly feeling tired again. He belatedly realised that the witch had probably used a mild relaxation or sleeping spell on him.
The mediwitch walked out of the room again.
Moody patted his shoulder lightly and turned to go but Sirius grabbed his hand, fighting the spell as long as he could. He just had to know...
“Alastor.” The old auror looked back at him. “Please. Just tell me. What happened?” Sirius begged quietly. The auror looked troubled and it scared him. What had happened to Harry? “Look, you can tell me, all right, I'm not going to break. Did he get injured? Is he here at the hospital too?”
Moody silently looked at him for a long moment, deeply thinking something before gently extracting his hand from his and putting it on his forehead. A wave of warm magic washed over Sirius and he found it harder to fight the sleep. He still struggled to keep his eyes open but the magic intensified a bit and finally, he closed his eyes, admitting defeat.
The hand moved from his forehead and patted his arm once.
Moody's gravelly voice whispered above him, “Sleep, child.”
Sirius drifted off to a dreamless sleep, the deep fear that had taken home inside him kept at bay for the moment by the force of the sleeping spell.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
It didn’t take too long for him to come around the next time. The morning after his talk with Moody and Kingsley, Sirius lay awake on his hospital bed as Healer Fay did his routine checkup and administered relevant potions. He felt much better than the previous days, with the only problem being his physical weakness, and a lingering pain in his chest.
As the healer worked, Sirius remained silent but his mind was working.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that both Moody and Kingsley had evaded answering his questions about Harry the last day. Healer Fay had done the same thing when he had asked about it a few minutes back – probably following instructions from Moody or Dumbledore.
But why would they keep information from him, especially information pertaining to his godson? No matter how bad the news was, neither Dumbledore nor Moody were the type to mince words when dealing blows. They had known each other since the last war, and they had all been blunt with each other. Just last year, Dumbledore had told him about Harry’s kidnapping by Crouch and Voldemort after the Third Task of the Tournament as soon as he could, when he was sure some of the others would have kept it from him, or gone about it in a round-about way out of pity or something.
Had the kid sustained some injury during the battle in the ministry? It was possible. Or, had he been taken by the Death Eaters again? Also possible, but it was no reason to keep him in the dark. If Harry was in danger, he wanted to know! He could help!
Which brought him back to the matter at hand.
Who to ask if neither the Order nor his healer would answer his question.
As if Merlin himself had answered his question, a young mediwitch entered the room with his food. As she prepared his table, Healer Fay checked his schedule for the day, and left the room.
“Would you like help with the food, Mr. Black, or would you like me to leave?” the young woman asked politely.
She was probably a trainee, Sirius thought. She looked way too inexperienced but still trying to look professional. Sirius was perfectly capable of eating his own food now, but…
“I could do with some help, if you don’t mind.” He said with a light smile at her.
Well, he did need answers, and a young, inexperienced trainee looked like a good place to try to find them.
“Of course.” She replied, before helping him with the food.
They were halfway done and Sirius was still contemplating on how to broach the topic. It didn’t help that he had no idea of his legal status in the Wizarding World. In his haste to know about Harry, he had forgotten to ask about it of Moody. And now, he wasn’t sure how to approach anyone. Did they think him a criminal or an innocent? Would asking after Harry cause the kid more problems for being in contact with a ‘criminal’ or would it cause panic because everyone still assumed that he wanted Harry dead? Or did they finally know the truth?
“Are you alright, Mr. Black? You look pensive.”
Sirius startled. He looked up at the woman who was now putting the tray away and coming back to arrange his covers again. He had been so deep in his thoughts; he hadn’t realised he had finished his meal. She would leave soon. It was now or never.
“Yes, well…” he took a deep breath. “I’ve been wondering about…well, my godson. I don’t know how he is…there’s been no news, and I’m starting to get a little worried now.”
There. That didn’t sound like he had been in contact with him. It sounded vague enough, he thought.
“Your godson?”
Oh…well, he supposed it might not be common knowledge that Harry was his godson.
“Harry Potter.” He said, and held his breath. The moment of truth at last. He would know about his legal status by her response, and hopefully, about Harry too.
“Harry…” she trailed off, her eyes widening. She didn’t look scared though.
“Yes. Can you tell me anything about him?” Sirius asked, a bit of his desperation showing.
Her face fell. There was pity on it. “Mr. Black…don’t you know? Don’t you remember?” she asked quietly. “You were there.”
Sirius’ heart froze in fear.
“What?” he choked out.
“Harry Potter is dead.” She said gently.
He stared at her face. “What?” he gasped.
“Harry…your godson…he’s dead, Mr. Black.”
No, his mind screamed. No sound escaped his lips. White and shaking, he kept staring at her in horror.
“You’re lying!” he hissed through clenched teeth. He knew she wasn’t. It was written plainly over her face.
“What?” she looked shocked. “No, I’d never –”
“Get. Out.” He whispered dangerously. The glass on the table vibrated with his magic, but he pulled it in.
Sirius could feel his control slipping like it hadn’t in over two decades. He clenched his eyes shut and fisted his hands, desperately trying to hang onto the last shred of his control, hoping she would leave before he lost it.
“Mr. Black, I’m so sorry –” she put her hand lightly on his arm in support.
“Leave!” Sirius yelled, glaring at her.
She stumbled back at his look, looking around in fear at the rattling windows and the quickly warming air around the room, and left at once.
The door shut behind her, and after a moment of making sure that she would not be coming back, he let his control slip for a moment.
The windows started rattling alarmingly, the temperature went up a few notches, and a low current of air started near his bed.
He took in a shuddering breath, trying once again, to take control of his magic. The air current went down; the room cooled a bit. The windows stopped rattling. He gulped, looking down at his fisted hands.
For one long moment, everything seemed frozen.
Harry Potter is dead.
Harry…your godson…he’s dead.
Sirius screamed.
There was a loud bang, but he didn’t care what it was from.
He screamed till he was hoarse, letting all his anguish show. He didn’t care if anyone heard or saw him like this. He didn’t care if his magic destroyed this place. He sobbed loudly and bitterly, clenching his hand in his hair.
It was like he was fifteen years back in time, seeing James and Lily dead…realising how badly they had been betrayed, and how great the loss was.
At least Harry had survived. He had thanked Merlin for that small mercy. Lost to grief and on the verge of a complete breakdown, he had clung to that tiny silver lining, and sent him to Dumbledore, where he’d be safe.
But this time…Oh Merlin! This time there was nothing left. No silver lining in the darkness, nothing to depend on. No hope.
It was too much. The pain and grief were more than he was prepared to bear. He had thought Harry was injured, maybe even in enemy territory, under torture. But always, always there was hope that he’ll be back. Not once had he even considered the possibility that…that he could be gone like this. That he’ll never see the child again.
Harry was everything he had left in this world. His family, his last link to sanity, his only reason to keep going even when sometimes he wanted it all to end. That kid was his entire world.
And now his world had ended. Sirius Black had nothing left.
It was a long time before he stopped sobbing. Silent tears still ran down his face as he looked vacantly out of the window, not bothering to wipe them.
You were there.
The woman had said that he was there when…it happened. But he didn’t remember it. He remembered hearing Harry’s pain-filled voice screaming for him just after he had been struck. Was that why he had been calling out to him, because he was in pain, maybe even dying? Was that a cry for help from a scared child in his last moments, hoping his godfather will save him?
Had he failed him once again?