Beautiful World ~ 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑹𝑹𝒀

Chapter 25

His godfather looked worse than Harry had ever seen him, even newly escaped from Azkaban. He paced the room and mumbled to himself, and Harry watched, nervously concerned that Sirius was having some sort of breakdown.

Strange, Harry himself hadn't yet fallen that far.

Dumbledore was there, looking solemn, and, by Harry's count, the train would be leaving in just under an hour. He had to be on it, Draco was waiting. He had to be there. He had to ride home with Hermione and Ron. He had to.

"You're not going home," Sirius said. Harry went cold with terror.

"Sirius, we decided that it would be best for both you and Harry if he returned to his aunt and uncle's," Dumbledore replied, sounding very tired.

"I don't care what's best! I'm not letting him go!"

"You didn't find anything then? Nothing to help?" Harry asked softly.

"There's still time, Harry." Dumbledore looked sternly at Sirius. "And he cannot go with you."

"Why?" Harry whispered, though he knew. If he died in the care of a man convicted of murdering a street full of people and betraying his parents, they'd think Sirius killed him.

"It's just for the best that he go home. We will know where to find him when we've got this sorted out. There is still time. We will fix this." Dumbledore's eyes blazed, as if daring them to disagree.

Sirius spun towards Harry, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. "You'll wait for us there? We will come for you Harry. Promise you'll stay there, where we can find you."

"I promise," Harry said, shaken at the fever in Sirius' eyes.

"He's got to go catch the train, Sirius," Dumbledore said gently.

Harry was crushed against Sirius' chest, trembling hands running through his hair, over his back. "We will fix it, we will."

Guilt suddenly struck him, and Harry wondered nervously why he felt like he owed Sirius something more than this. Owed him tears, panic attacks, pleas. "I... I don't want to die," he said, giving Sirius the opportunity he seemed to crave.

"You aren't going to die," Sirius swore.

"Alright," Harry whispered, surprised to find real tears in his eyes.

"I love you."

Surprised again. "You do?"

"Of course I do."

"Oh. I... I love you too."

He'd never said that before. To anyone. Ever. Fifteen years old and never said 'I love you'. Strange, very strange.

Dumbledore spoke to him, quiet promises that Harry didn't bother to listen to. He fidgeted and bounced on his toes and glanced worriedly at his watch and then he was brought down to the train.

***

Hermione swept her hair over her shoulder, glanced up, met Harry's eyes, and grinned. "Honestly," she drawled, voice heavy with restrained laughter. "You'd think he thought this train ride could last until the term starts again, the rate Ron's going."

I wish it could. He smiled. "Ron's always slow at chess," he said.

She snorted. "Slow at other things, as well."

Ron finally decided to acknowledge them. "I'll have you know that strategy is an important part of chess."

"Oh, is it?" Hermione snickered. She watched him as he precisely moved his bishop, and then quickly followed up with a random move of a pawn that cost him his knight. "Then why is it, Ron, dear, that I'm kicking your arse?"