Sirius blanched and in the same instant he reached out and hauled Harry to his feet, pulling him into a protective hold. His face showed shock as well as horror, fear and repulsion. Harry stiffened at the unexpected touch and he tensed further as he took in his godfather's expression, what was so significant about a horcrux that it could produce such a reaction in his godfather, not to mention would Sirius push him away now, seeing as he was one and the revulsion on his godfather's features was plain to see.
"S-Sirius?" He asked, his voice trembling, unable to formulate a proper question, unable to voice his fear.
Sirius glanced down, his expression immediately turning apologetic as he took in the fear in his godson's eyes. "I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean to frighten you, the question just took me by surprise."
Discover morePain ManagementScience Fiction & Fantasy BooksAnxiety & StressCrossover storiesAuthor tools"You don't hate me because I'm a horcrux?" He asked in a small voice. He could still see the fear and horror in his godfather's eyes and despite the reassurance and apology he had to know for certain, had to know that the love and affection he had been given over the past few weeks was not about to be snatched away.
"No Harry, sweet Merlin no!" Sirius tightened his grip and pulled Harry towards him until he was held securely against his chest, "I could never hate you Harry. You are my godson, my child and there is nothing that could make me hate you." His voice was laced with sincerity but Harry couldn't match the horror he had seen in his godfather's eyes with the words he was speaking.
"But you are so angry, it is obvious that you are repulsed by the idea of a horcrux." Harry said quietly. He wanted to believe Sirius, and part of him did, he trusted Sirius more than any other adult and his godfather hadn't been driven away by the revelations in the trial, instead he had offered comfort. He could see the sincerity in every word the animagus spoke but at the same time the look in his eyes was unmistakable, he had seen it many times when Uncle Vernon looked at him, and even though Sirius was holding him tightly he couldn't help but worry, couldn't help but think that somehow, someday everything would turn out to be too good to be true and Sirius would withdraw his love.
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Seeing the conflict and fear in his godson's eyes, Sirius knelt down so he was able to look straight into Harry's eyes, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I don't hate you pup, I could never do so. I hate the fact that this was forced upon you, I hate the fact that such evil magic was used on you and that someone has made you into one and hurt you because of it, I hate the fact I couldn't protect you from this, that I've failed you again but I could never, would never, ever hate you." The light was coming back into the boy's expression and Sirius could see that Harry desperately wanted to believe him. He opened his arms, "Come here pup," he commanded softly. There was a brief hesitation then Harry stepped forward, straight into his godfather's embrace, resting his head on Sirius's shoulder. The animagus held him in a tight grip, letting all the love he had for his pup flow into the embrace. Soon he felt Harry relax totally and he stood slowly, being careful to pull Harry up with him, still not releasing his grip.
Discover moreFan fiction communityWriter communityFan fiction platformFiction writing guidesFan fiction booksHarry snuggled deeper into his godfather's hold, his worries assuaged by the vehemence he had heard in Sirius's voice and the love he could feel surrounding him. Now he thought about it he felt ashamed. He had been so quick to believe that his godfather would hate him and push him away even though everything Sirius had done for him showed clearly how much he cared for him and Sirius had told him so many times that he loved him and he had been there for him throughout the whole of the trial. And he hadn't become angry when Harry had questioned him, even though he had every right to have been frustrated or annoyed, instead he had been understanding and had comforted him. Harry felt gratitude well up inside him. He was so lucky he had Sirius.
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The instant the elder had shouted several goblins had hurried away into the tunnels that created Gringotts, all searching for various goblins and items. Horcruxes were abominations to the goblin race and coupled with the fact a child had been made one ensured that they were going to do everything in their power to get rid of it. Once the elder finished belting out orders he turned back to the two wizards taking in their position at a single glance, seeing the disgust and fear in Sirius's eyes but also the protective embrace he held his godson in and the almost defiant expression that lurked behind his features.
"I take it you know about horcruxes then Lord Black." His voice was measuring, assessing.
"I know of horcruxes and I also know they are the most evil form of magic, something which no one, be they light or dark should ever use. It was something I devoted the meanest amount of studying possible to, without incurring the wrath of my family." His voice was flat, but his eyes betrayed the worry he was feeling.
The goblin nodded once, sensing nothing evil about the wizard in front of him. Frankly he had been surprised the wizard had even heard of those abominations, they were one of the darkest arts and few delved deep enough to discover their existence and it was odd that a man with such a pure soul should have even heard of them, normally anyone who delved into the dark became tainted by their evil. His gaze switched to the child, he could see the fear there, however it was only a reflection of the older wizard's fear. He was worried because he could see his godfather was worried and it was obvious he had no knowledge of horcruxes whatsoever. And that is how it should be, the elder thought, no child should have to bear that sort of burden but it seemed that this child was fated to carry many burdens, not least the one of his abuse.
"I fear it is down to me to speak of these abominations to both of you. We cannot proceed before we all understand what is at stake here."
Sirius's eyes widened as realisation flashed through him. A horcrux could only be destroyed when the vessel was destroyed past magical repair. In order for the horcrux to be removed Harry would have to die, and that was something he couldn't allow. Yet every moment Harry lived he tethered someone who was more than evil to life. He clutched Harry to him, he would not lose Harry, he would not allow Harry to die. His godson looked up at him in puzzlement but Sirius didn't loosen his hold and Harry made no move to get away. He seemed to realise that there was something he didn't understand, something powerful enough to frighten his godfather.
Discover moreMobile app subscriptionRegular storiesWriting forum accessFictionPress integrationMobile fanfiction appThe elder started to speak. "A horcrux is the darkest form of magic, creating one renders the creator immortal so long as the horcrux survives. The creator splits their soul by the cold-blooded murder of an innocent and stores the portion of their soul in an object, very occasionally an animal. However you are the only human horcrux I have ever seen. I would even go as far to say that it was an unintended horcrux. It is centred around your scar young one."
Harry's eyes went wide with shock, which was quickly followed by repulsion. "Voldemort..." he said in a strangled whisper. "I've got some of Voldemort's soul in my head." He started to shake, he had some of that murderer's soul inside him, he was tainted, evil. Uncle Vernon had been right, he was a freak, he was evil.
It had to be Voldemort's, his scar burned when he was near and there was the visions and connection he seemed to have with Voldemort. It all made sense now, he had these visions, his scar hurt because it was part of Voldemort, he contained part of the worst Dark Lord in history. He was keeping Voldemort alive, he would have to die in order for Voldemort to be destroyed.
That realisation came crashing down on him. He would have to die but he didn't want to, he wasn't ready. He couldn't give up now, not when he finally had a parent, not to mention he would break his promise to Sirius. He was suddenly very grateful Sirius was holding him so tightly, without the support he was certain he would have fallen and it allowed him to bury his face in his godfather's robes, hiding from the rest of the world as he clung to Sirius, the one person who had promised that they would not judge him.
"I don't want to die," The whisper was quiet, broken, little more than a whimper. Instantly Sirius's arms tightened, pulling him close.
"You are not going to die," his godfather said fiercely, "I promise you Harry that we will find a way to get rid of it without killing you. It is going to be fine and do not think for one second that I love you any less because of this." The passion in Sirius's voice was unmistakable and for a moment Harry believed him, believed that he would be able to get through this without dying but all too soon that hope faded. He contained part of Voldemort, he was evil so he would have to die, no matter what Sirius did. He kept his face hidden. He couldn't look up and see the belief and hope in his godfather's expression, it would only hurt more because he knew he would have to die.
Sirius was speaking quietly to the goblin elder and Harry allowed his attention to wander, they were speaking in gobbledygook anyway and it was difficult to translate, not to mention he didn't want to hear any more false hope. It would just make it harder when he had to die, and that would be hard enough already. If he had known before he met Sirius he would have been able to die happily but now he had a family and he didn't want to lose it or hurt Sirius in any way and he knew his death would hurt the animagus.
"You have a what!?" His godfather's exclamation jerked him out his thoughts and he looked up in confusion only to see the hope blazing brightly in Sirius's eyes. He immediately averted his gaze, however the elder's reply caused his head to snap up in shock.
"We have a ritual which we can use to extract the horcrux."
Harry just looked at the goblin, his eyes wide. Surely he hadn't heard correctly, surely he hadn't just said the goblins could remove the horcrux without killing him. However Sirius's sharp exhalation of breath and the relief he felt pouring off the older man suggested he had heard correctly, however he had to check, he had to make sure. He had been sure he was going to have to die and here were the goblins removing that possibility completely. "You can take the horcrux away without killing me?" He asked, his voice quiet, trying desperately not to hope.
The goblin nodded, "We have a ritual, it has been seldom used on a living creature but it will be able to extract the horcrux which we can then destroy safely. However I must warn you, I am told the process is incredibly painful and we will not be able to stop once we have started, not to mention you will be conscious throughout. The goblin nation is prepared to offer this ritual to you for free, horcruxes are abominations and we take any opportunity to destroy them, add in the fact some bastard had made a child into one, we are more than prepared to do the ritual. If you wish to undergo one we can start in an hour." The goblin stepped back, allowing them time to discuss their options.
Harry couldn't believe it. They would be able to remove the horcrux without him dying and they could do it before he left the bank today. He wouldn't have to carry the monster's soul in his head anymore. Any amount of pain was a fair trade for removing the soul fragment and escaping with his life and he had endured a lot of pain in his life. The ritual couldn't be any more painful than being bitten by a basilisk.
Sirius looked down at Harry, the hope shining in his eyes although he schooled his face into a determinedly neutral cast. He desperately wanted to get rid of the horcrux and the goblins had just provided the perfect solution, however it had to be Harry's decision. The horcrux was in his head and he was the one who would have to undergo the pain of the ritual. If he declined he would do his damndest to try and get Harry to agree, although he had spoken of a solution he knew it would be very difficult to find one and when a perfect solution had been presented to them they would be fools not to take it. He opened his mouth to ask Harry for his opinion but Harry beat him to it,
"I want to undergo the ritual." Harry's voice was firm.
Sirius felt relief rush through him. Harry had agreed and they would be able to get that awful thing out of his godson as soon as possible. "You're sure?" The protest was half-hearted at best, he wanted Harry to do the ritual desperately but he had to make sure.
A single decisive nod answered his question, then Harry flashed a smile, a weak one but still a smile in his direction. He had evidently noticed Sirius's happiness with this turn of events. He smiled warmly in response then spoke, "Elder goblin, we would like to accept your generous offer and my ward would like to undergo the ritual." The formal phrases fell easily from his lips and the goblin nodded in response.
"I will send for the healers and curse breakers and Sharpclaw will accompany you to the ritual room. We will begin in an hour." The goblin elder bowed once, and both Sirius and Harry bowed deeply in reply before the goblin left the court room, leaving them with Sharpclaw.
"Follow me please, Lord Black." The goblin paused and looked at his friend, "I am sorry that you and Mr Potter have to endure so much Sirius. It seems that it is just one thing after another." Sirius laughed mirthlessly,
"Fate has an unhealthy obsession with us." He commented darkly as they made their way out of the courtroom and down into the maze of tunnels that was Gringotts. Sirius kept his arm firmly wrapped against his godson's shoulder and Harry made no move to get away, instead he walked as close to his godfather as possible, still reeling from the revelations that had been thrust upon him in the last few minutes and taking comfort from his godfather's presence. They were travelling deeper and deeper into the maze of tunnels and it quickly began obvious that very few humans had ever been down here. The tunnel roofs became lower and lower and they both found themselves having to duck in places, although more for Sirius than Harry.
As they walked Sirius started to quiz Sharpclaw on the ritual that Harry was going to undergo. "As you know, we prize our treasures however they are often used to be vessels and the ritual was developed so we were able to save them and prevent the destruction of the object by removing the soul piece. As such the ritual does not require participation; all Mr Potter will have to do is lie down in the runes."
"How often has it been used on a live person?" The anxiety was clear in Sirius's voice. Although he was pleased that there was this option and he had seized it with both hands didn't mean that he wasn't worried for his pup, on the contrary he was extremely anxious, particularly as the elder had mentioned that it would be extremely painful and the knowledge the ritual had been developed for objects. Sharpclaw paused before answering,
"It is used infrequently on a goblin. Sometimes during the extraction the soul piece has latched onto one of the healers or curse breakers and made them into a horcrux. The ritual has then been used to remove the piece although all who have undergone it have reported intense pain and have been conscious throughout the process. Several have likened it to a form of torture." Sirius let out his breath in a hiss at the last sentence and automatically tightened his grip on Harry's shoulders. He wanted the despicable thing gone but hearing that his precious godson would have to undergo a form of torture to get rid of it brought all his protective instincts to the fore and kindled a burning rage in his heart.
"Is there any way the pain can be transferred to another individual?" He asked bluntly, if there was a way to prevent Harry from feeling the pain he would take it gladly.
Harry glanced up, shock written all over his face, "Sirius..." he began but Sirius looked down at him, cutting off his protests.
"Hush Harry," he said softly, but still firmly. Then he turned to Sharpclaw, "Well?"
The goblin sighed, seeing the protectiveness and pain in his friend's features, "There is no way to accomplish that Sirius. The pain is caused by the removal of the foreign soul and there is nothing we can do that will transfer the pain in any way. I'm afraid Mr Potter will have to endure it alone. However you will be able to be in the ritual room, although you will have to stay outside the runes." Sirius nodded resignedly. He hadn't really expected it to be possible but he had to check. If there had been any chance it could work he would have seized it happily, anything that would prevent Harry from feeling the pain, even if it was at his own cost would be welcomed.
A small entrance way, the whole surface around it and the door inscribed with thousands upon thousands of runes, met them on their left and Sharpclaw slowed before opening the door carefully and ushering them inside.
It was a small chamber with curved walls reaching upwards to form a dome, the four corners forming pillars of stone that arced over the ceiling like ribs. The floor was covered in large smooth marble flagstones which a team of half a dozen goblins were inscribing with runes in preparation for the ritual. A single stone bench ran the length of one curved wall and Sharpclaw gestured that they should take a seat while they were waiting for the ritual to be prepared.
They had about half an hour before the ritual would begin so Sirius sat down on the bench, being careful to stay out of the goblins way and gently encouraged Harry to join him. Harry sat, leaning against his godfather's side, his emotions in turmoil. He had been faced with the revelation he contained part of Voldemort's soul and then he had thought he would have to die only to be given a way out, albeit one that was painful and he was now sitting, waiting for them to begin. It had been an emotional rollercoaster to say the least, and combined with the fact it had occurred just after the trial it had left him an emotional mess.
Sirius kept his arm around him, offering him silent support as he nestled in against his godfather's side. He had been extremely shocked when Sirius had asked Sharpclaw about taking the pain Harry would undergo and suffering through it himself in Harry's place. He knew Sirius loved him but for his godfather to even ask showed a depth of love he didn't think existed. He had personally experienced some awful pain growing up and he could not comprehend anyone taking that pain willing, taking a form of torture willingly, for somebody else. He was more than a little awed by the fact Sirius had intended to do that for him, for somebody who hadn't experienced any form of parental love before the summer it was astounding. He wouldn't have even considered it as a possibility, he would have been and was completely content with Sirius staying with him throughout the ritual. That in itself was a level of caring far beyond what he had ever experienced at the Dursleys.
Time slipped by and soon it was time for the ritual to start. Sirius helped Harry out of the heavy formal robes so he was only wearing the plain T-shirt and trousers he had had on underneath, high magic rituals often had a negative effect on clothing, not to mention the heavy cloth robes would not be nice items to be wearing when the pain started. He hugged Harry hard, "I'll stay with you pup," he murmured before he released Harry, letting the goblins lead Harry down into the seven interlocking runic circles.
The rune circles were laid out in a flower like pattern with a single large circle in the centre with the other six, smaller circles interlocking and radiating out like petals. In each of these smaller circles a single goblin stood, three were healers and three were curse breakers. Harry lay in the central circle, his head containing the lightning scar and horcrux directly underneath the curse breaker leading the ritual. The ritual itself was used to transfer the horcrux from one vessel to another. The horcrux would be withdrawn from the first vessel through the ritual and magic and then bound to a lesser object which could then be destroyed. In this case it was a small metal fragment, left over from the forging of a goblin sword.
A low chant started up, little more than a murmur as each goblin started to chant the incantations. The runes started to glow and then pulse as the rush of magic filled them. Magic grew thick in the air, so thick that Harry could almost taste it and he could feel it coming across his skin in sharp rushes, tingling, dancing across his body, exploring, searching for the horcrux.
Then the feeling of the magic changed. It stopped seeking and it started to pull, tugging at him. Harry felt a prickle of pain flash across his scar. Then another and another and another, getting stronger and stronger each time. Prickles turned into stabs and he tried not to gasp, he didn't want to reveal to Sirius the pain he was in, it would just make his godfather feel worse. As it was he could clearly feel the concern emanating from his godfather as man watched the ritual, his eyes never leaving Harry.
The pain ebbed away slightly then the volume of the chanting rose and changed, taking on a different quality. They were no longer seeking the horcrux, they had found it and they had assessed how strongly it was bound, now they had to extract it.
The pain had ebbed away but now it returned with a vengeance. Harry bit his lip hard to stop him crying out. It felt as if a thousand knives had all stabbed down on his forehead simultaneously, each knife point burning hot, searing his skin and burning at his head. The agony coursed through him, taking his breath away. He tasted blood in his mouth. The pain continued to grow, pulsing with the beat of the chants until all he could feel was pain, it flowed through him, twisting and turning with a life of its own.
A voice broke through the chanting, although the ritual still continued another voice could be heard, urging Harry to hold on, promising it would be alright, it would all be over soon. Gritting his teeth Harry turned his head a fraction, trying to ignore the pain that flared up stronger the moment he moved, his eyes searching for the figure of his godfather.
Everything was blurry without his glasses but he would recognise his godfather no matter how bad his vision was. Although he couldn't make out the details in Sirius's expression, Harry latched onto the figure and the voice, holding onto the fact that he was not alone. Reminding himself that there was more here than just pain, just the chanting that never seemed to end, that he had some support, there was a promise that it would end eventually. Focussing on Sirius he was able to push some of the pain away, not much, agony still pulsed through him, flaring down every limb, but he could push it away enough to keep a portion of his mind free from its influence.
Then suddenly the chanting rose to a scream. Painsurged through him and his back arched, pulling him away from the ground, his limbs thrashing. White hot, the pain seared through his veins and he couldn't keep his scream locked away. Pure, undiluted agony echoed in his voice as he slumped back to the floor and his scar burst open, crimson blood flowing down his forehead, into his eyes, hot blood blinding him.
Blinded, alone and agony coursing through him, Harry could only think of the pain, praying and wishing it would end, would be over and failing that, that he could slip into blessed unconsciousness. But that option was not open to him, he knew that there would be no reprieve until the end, he would have to endure it until then. Visions from the chamber assaulted him on all sides. Lying alone, the colours dissolving into darkness and the voice, the voice of Tom Riddle, rejoicing in his victory. He could hear it, hear it almost as clearly as he could when he lay in the chamber.
"Harry Potter," the sibilant voice hissed, "Lying alone, forsaken by his godfather, being defeated by the Dark Lord he could never challenge."
Through the haze of pain Harry frowned slightly, that wasn't what he remembered, that wasn't what Riddle had said. Something was different, something was wrong. As the voice continued he felt fear rush through him, followed by defiance, despite the pain. This wasn't the diary speaking, this wasn't that version of Riddle, it was the soul piece in his own head, the piece of Voldemort that he wanted gone! He had defeated Voldemort three times before and he would do it again. He was NOT going to let the horcrux win.
As if in response to that decision the pain levels rocketed and a shriek, laced with pure torture rattled through him, echoing off the stone ribs of the ceiling. A chilling laugh resonated throughout his mind. "You can never beat me Harry Potter, I control the pain you feel. You will never be rid of me. You are mine unless you join with me."
Harry's body was thrashing uncontrollably. His eyelids were sealed shut by congealing blood and his muscles contracted and released in response to the pain but the real battle was occurring in his mind.
"No!" He screamed, unaware that he was actually screaming, instead of just in his mind, "I'll never join you. You killed my parents!" As he finished his body contorted, Voldemort unleashing another barrage of pain, on top of the existing agony, showing his displeasure with the answer. For several moments he was only aware of the pain, then he slumped back to the floor, the pain ebbing slightly, allowing him to think.
"That is just a small taste, I will continue until you agree to join with me. You could have power beyond imagining if only you joined me." The voice hissed, pleasure flowing through it as Voldemort spoke of pain.
"Never," Harry gasped out. Pain hit once more, surging through him, every inch of skin burning under the onslaught. It lasted for longer than the first batch but then it was over, the pain was reduced and his body crashed to the floor, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Voldemort chided, his voice pretending to be reasonable; the air of menace surround him somehow worse for it, "Surely you don't want that to happen again. You have suffered at the hands of worthless muggles, join me and you can get revenge on your relatives, you will find your real family within the ranks of my Death Eaters and you will be exalted because you carry my soul."
Fury rose up in Harry, not from the offer of joining to Death Eaters or the idea he was exalted because he was a horcrux, he had heard that before, but instead it was the casual dismissal of his godfather and friends, the implication that he didn't have a real family. That would have been true a few months ago but not anymore, he had Sirius, he had a father, a real family and he would never, ever trade the love he was given by his godfather for the twisted servitude to a madman.
Voldemort was getting impatient. A sharp jolt of painflashed through him, only to fade a few seconds later. Harry pulled his thoughts together, pushing the pain as far away as he was able to. Instead of giving Voldemort a verbal answer he created a ball made up of memories from the last month and a half, the times he had felt protected, loved, his realisation he had a family, a father, everything Sirius had ever done for him and Harry rammed it straight at Voldemort.
The horcrux flinched as if struck, releasing its hold on Harry only fractionally but that was all the goblins needed. The spell swelled to a crescendo and with an unearthly shriek the horcrux was pulled from Harry's scar, a shapeless cloud of black mist snarling as it was separated from its host and began to be inexorably drawn towards the new vessel.
Harry lay on the stone flagstones, completely spent, the sharp tang of blood thick in the air. His limbs felt heavy, dragging him down. Pain still coursed through him, every nerve screaming, although it was dulling slowly now his part in the ritual was over. His head throbbed with the pulses of magic and the pain flared with every beat of his pulse, and a thin trickle of blood slipped down his face, continuing to leave shinning tracks on his pale skin. He couldn't sleep, he was forced to stay conscious by the magic of the ritual but his mind retreated, letting sensation, pain and magic wash over him as he waited for it to end.
Cool water splashed onto his face and Harry pulled his mind out of its detached state, noting almost casually that the rush of magic and the chanting had stopped. Pain pushed itself back into his consciousness and he hissed as all the residual aches, pain and bruising all flared simultaneously. A slight faltering in the wash of water across his face was the only indication that anyone had heard him but it was so slight he wasn't really sure it had happened.
Someone was gently sponging his eyelids, removing the crusted blood and the first chinks of light started to penetrate the darkness that had surrounded him for the majority of the ritual. One eye was free, and slowly he opened it, seeing the blurry figure of his godfather just in front of him. "Sir-ius?" he rasped out, the movement sending a flash of pain up his throat.
"Yes pup, I'm here," Sirius murmured, finally freeing Harry's second eye. Harry moved his head slightly to allow his godfather to slide his glasses on and immediately regretted it as pain lanced through his forehead. Unprepared he couldn't stop himself from letting out a whimper. "Harry?" Sirius asked, concern obvious in his voice.
"Hurts," he moaned, trying not to move and spark a fresh wave of pain.
Sirius could see the complete and utter fatigue in his godson and noting the way Harry gritted his teeth or made a noise every time he did any sort of movement, no matter how small, he realised there was no chance his godson would be able to walk back through Gringotts. Add in the fact Harry had actually admitted he was hurting, even in the month his godson had been with him, Sirius had learnt that Harry normally downplayed any pain or injury and for him to admit it indicated he was in a lot of pain. All this flashed through his mind in a few seconds and his decision was an easy one.
Harry felt strong arms slip under him and gently lift him up, holding him securely. Pain flared at the movement but soon he was settled as comfortably as possible, his head resting against Sirius's shoulder and the pain subsided to a throbbing ache throughout his body, although it was more concentrated at his head. Harry felt his godfather start to walk but Sirius was being careful, trying not to jostle him and for the most part he was succeeding.
Harry knew he would have been embarrassed if he hadn't been able to feel the fatigue in every single bone, if he hadn't just faced the horcrux and the whisperings of Tom Riddle but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. He was precisely where he wanted to be, safe in his godfather's arms. The ritual was over and he was finally able to give into the darkness that the magic had staved off. The last things he was aware of before the blackness claimed him were his godfather's arms holding him securely as Sirius carried him through the halls of Gringotts.
Sirius felt Harry go limp in his grip and he knew that his godson had slipped into much sought unconsciousness and relief from the pain. Seeing his godson thrashing on the floor, his face covered in blood and hearing the screams that had been filled with an agony so intense he could scarcely comprehend it had quickly become one of his worst memories. And the worst part was knowing that he was helpless to intervene and he had to watch Harry get hurt and he could protect Harry from it in any way. All he had been able to do was provide verbal encouragement and stay in Harry's sight, and when Harry's own blood blocked his vision that small option had been taken away.
He knew that the ritual had been completely necessary and the only other option was infinitely worse but that knowledge didn't sooth the hurt in his heart caused by watching his pup being tortured in front of him. It had been one more thing he hadn't been able to save Harry from. It was only the presence of Harry, safe in his arms, which soothed his worry somewhat and persuaded him that he was able to look after and protect his godson even though Harry had endured so much, too much.
Then he was back in Sharpclaw's office and he was given the portkey that would take them back to Black Island, placing Harry's hand onto the paperweight, they were pulled away, spinning into the ether and back home.
Once they were home, Sirius headed up to Harry's room and gently tucked Harry into bed, smoothing his fringe, hiding the lightning scar which stood out, fresh and livid against his forehead and carding his fingers through his pup's hair. Harry stirred slightly, leaning into the touch before his breathing evened out, unconsciousness giving way into sleep. Sirius sank down into the nearby armchair, still watching his godson, his mind racing despite the tiredness in his limbs.
The day had been one shock and revelation after another. The trial that had started in the morning and the things he had discovered about the abuse Harry had been subjected to at the Dursleys had shocked him to the core but although the emotions had thundered through him, he had been forced to be strong, for Harry. He had seen clearly the effect the whole process had on Harry and he had realised for the first time, just how much Harry relied on him. Then after the trial finished in the early afternoon there had been the revelation concerning the horcrux and the trauma of the ritual which lasted into the early evening but out of everything that had happened in the day what had shocked him the most were the words of the elder goblin. He had told Harry that his father could join him.
That statement had thrown him; he had been looking for James for a few moments. And it hadn't been until Harry had looked back at him, inviting him forward that he had realised that the goblin had been referring to him. He had joined Harry of course, he couldn't deny his godson whenever he wanted reassurance and he had supported him but it had only been the revelation that Harry was a horcrux that had pushed the musings to the back of his mind and now that was out the way all those thoughts came back to the fore.
He had been called Harry's father, not his birth father true, but still he had been referred to as Harry's father and the glance Harry had sent at him showed him clearly that Harry regarded him as a father figure. And that unnerved him, more than just a little. He loved Harry like he was his own, occasionally even thinking of him as his own child and was determined to protect Harry and do everything in his power to care for him but despite that, it had been completely shocking to be thought of as Harry's father. He had never pictured himself as a father and for him nobody could ever take James's place. James was Harry's father and he couldn't picture anyone else, particularly himself taking that spot. Although it appeared, that for Harry, he had already taken that place.
And if he was honest with himself, he could understand why. For Harry, James wasn't even a memory; all he had of his father were pictures, stories, and his final words. Sirius could tell his godson how much his parents had loved him until he was blue in the face but it was never going to change the fact Harry had not known it for himself. The Dursleys had never shown any sort of parental love to the boy and Sirius knew that he was the only person that had ever loved Harry like a parent would in his godson's memory. Why then should it be any surprise that Harry now viewed him as a parent?
It wasn't really, although for Sirius it was more than bittersweet. It was wonderful that Harry loved him so much and he had helped Harry to heal so that Harry was able to understand and experience a parents love but the fact that he was usurping the place that he still thought of as James's hurt. But at the same time he knew there was nothing he could do to change that without hurting Harry and that was something he could not do. He could only be the best father he could be for Harry, and honour James and Lily's memory, ensuring Harry knew of the father and mother he had lost.
Harry stirred, eyes fluttering open, confusion shinning through the veil of sleep as his gaze fell onto his godfather. "Sirius?" he questioned, voice thick with sleep. Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Sirius crossed the room, coming to Harry's bedside. One hand reached out and started stroking through Harry's hair. "What is it pup?" he asked quietly.
"Why're y'here?" His voice was slurred, and his eyes were beginning to close again as Sirius replied,
"I needed to know you were alright."
"M'fine," Harry murmured as he slipped back into sleep. Sirius smiled tenderly down at his sleeping godson, then gently kissed the scarred forehead. "Sleep well pup," he whispered as he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Lucius Malfoy stared at the letter in front of him in disgust and unbridled rage, Lord Black notifying him of a will change. That in itself was not remarkable, such letters were sent out to many of the pureblood families annually, it was standard procedure to notify a recipient if you changed the will, particularly in regards to heirs of the family's but it was this particular letter which had got his hackles up.
He had presumed Draco would inherit the Black Lordship, what with Sirius having no children and Andromeda cast out of the Black family but the way the letter was written suggested fairly strongly that there was another heir, cutting the Malfoys completely out of the House of Black's rather remarkable fortune and influence. It wasn't stated outright of course, such things seldom were but the implications were obvious to the Malfoy Lord. There was another Heir to House Black and Lucius had no clue who they were, not to mention the damned blood traitor had to bring up the issue of that confounded debt again. He glared at the offending piece of parchment, reading the message once again.
Head of House Malfoy,
As a House married to one of the daughters of our house, House Black wishes to notify you of a change to the will of their current Lord, Sirius Orion Black.
That particular sentence was standard, it was common practice and courtesy to send out such letter, particularly in these circumstances, however it was the rest of the letter that was different, it changed tone, became much more personal, much more vindictive. He was reminded very strongly that blood traitor he might have been, Sirius was still a Black and the Blacks were renowned for their ruthlessness.
It must be noted that threats to my house are not good policy if you desire to remain in good health and neither do murderers inherit from the person they wronged. I would advise that you consider your actions carefully Lucius, particularly when the claim of your House to mine is slight now I have taken the mantle.
Your actions at the world cup were ill advised, a pureblood stooping to the level of a common criminal, and have forced me to take action. For future reference, it is unwise to threaten the person who has the potential to cripple your house financially, for they may just retaliate. Considering your actions, I have decided to make my death costly to House Malfoy and particularly to you Lucius. I have changed my will so that any remaining debt will be called in upon my death, followed by the dissolution of your marriage and the reclaiming of the dowry if you are implicated in any way with the death, making your son a bastard.
To ensure your good behaviour until that occurrence, I intend to call in the debt whenever news reaches my ears that you are working against the House of Black, and that includes politically. You, my friend have no options but to follow my line, lest I destroy House Malfoy, financially, politically and through its heirs.
Lord Sirius Black
Head of House Black
The blood traitor had him over a barrel. There was no way he could retaliate, he couldn't even arrange for Sirius to suffer an unfortunate accident of the likes which had claimed many a political rival for his death would have far reaching consequences. Black had managed to make himself untouchable and that was a difficult thing to achieve in the current political climate. That single letter destroyed all the political influence he had managed to garner over the previous decade, until he could build up his finances so he would be secure when the debt was called in, he would have to follow Black in the Wizengamot and in any issue.
He grabbed a glass of firewhisky. He needed to plan, find a way out but he had the uncomfortable feeling that Black had out Slytherined him, the Gryffindor traitor of the Black family proving he had more of his family in him than he let on.