| Current mood: |  crushed |
| Current music: | "Easier to Run" Linkin Park [ I know, Lacee.. ::sniffle:: ] |
CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR HP&TOOTP!!
I cried for.. quite a long time after I read that Sirius died. I set a personal best for reading.. over 400 pages in one day!! That took me from when Harry snogged Cho to when his godfather bought the farm. I want to believe in the resurrected Sirius.. but right now I can't. Maybe JK will have a little heart before she stops writing the series. Until then.. the little bugger's on my list!! I started writing a torture fan fic... haven't named it yet but I thought I'd see what ya'll think of what I have...
---
"Hello?" He asked breathlessly, snatching up the telephone, annoyed that it would dare to interrupt his brooding over the events of the past few months. They had passed so quickly... So much had been lost in the rush...
"Hi... Harry."
"Cho?" He felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured down his throat and was now drowning his insides. "Er... Hi. What's up?"
"Harry... I just wanted you to know that I've been thinking about you a lot over the summer... And I just... And I-I --"
Gripping the phone tighter in his nervousness, Harry stammered, "Ch-Cho? I-I can't hear you... The reception's bad... Cho, all I can hear are these strange clicking noises..."
..::*::....::*::..::*::..::*::..::*::..
Harry's eyelids fluttered. He found himself, not in the room with the telephone, but suffering another summer in Number Four, Privet Drive. The strange clicking noises were caused by Hedwig, who had been busily rapping her beak on the window pane. Opening the window and carefully removing a piece of parchment from her leg, he sat at his tiny desk and began to read.
"Harry --" it began. "Second day with no letter from you, mate. Remember, no reply by tomorrow and Mad Eye will be up there to kick some Muggle ass before you can say 'boggart.' Listen -- I know you're suffering, Harry. Don't remove yourself from us... We want to help you... We loved Sirius too."
At the very thought of the name, Harry's stomach clenched. He wanted to die. They couldn't understand... They were adults... They thought they could shelter him. That's one of the reasons Harry no longer had his godfather. The only thing that separated him from his sole relief was just beyond the curtain. Sirius held one of those voices now.
"Don't you realize," the letter continued, "that he loved you so much that he sacraficed himself to save you? And you were willing to die to keep him alive. Sirius wouldn't want you to waste his final gift to you by trying to drown yourself in remorse and anger. None of us want that, Harry."
A strange and painful lump rose in Harry's throat. "So.. It's about what YOU want, is it?!" he choked, a strange irony in his voice. "YOU WANTED TO KEEP ME IN THE DARK!!" Harry spat hatefully at the parchment, as if it could hear him. "It was enough... My parents... Cedric... S-Sirius..." The tears were so thick in his eyes that he could only see blurs of brown. He was shaking so badly that he felt he would pass out before he was able to sit down. Harry put his head in his hands, eyes dripping great tears onto the parchment. Finally, after all this terrible pain, he was able to cry. He sobbed uncontrollably, mourning all the hidden pain that had begun to resurface itself after the only man who could ever been a father to him had died.
"What would Sirius do?" Harry thought, after he had consoled himself enough to be able to think clearly.
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