Mark of Slytherin

Chapter 15

While Harry wouldn't exactly say that things got better after that, at least they didn't get worse. Every so often he would find himself spacing out, starting deep into his cup of tea or across a room, prompting Lavender to smack him for 'creeping her out'. Once upon a time, Harry might have been offended, but now he felt that her casual attitude around him was rather pleasant. Hermione was great, but they had been friends for ages and he could tell that she was worried, even when she pretended not to be.

The urge to just run away still gripped him, more often than Harry wanted to acknowledge. When e wasn't careful he would suddenly find himself walking across the room, heading for the door. It was at one such occasion that Sirius found him, grabbing his shoulder just as he was about to leave. The iron handle had been cold in his palm, and Sirius' hand had been almost too hot. The man had been drinking again, just like he had every day since their run-in in the bathroom. Possibly even before that, but Harry hadn't paid enough attention to be sure.

Neither of the men had wanted to take the step to talk to each other after the incident, Sirius shying away with a look of painful guilt on his face and Harry... Harry just didn't know how to deal with it. It wasn't every day that someone came up to you and confessed they had killed your parents, whether it was an accident or not. And Harry wasn't young any more. As much as he would have liked to hate Sirius for what he had done, Harry had enough experience to understand that things sometimes got out of control. Yet in the depths of his heart, he still wasn't ready to tell the older man that he was forgiven. A part of him would always be missing the absence of his parents, even if he was long past needing them.

So they had been very careful to never be left alone, but now here they were, Harry still gripping the handle and Sirius' hand shaking on his shoulder.

"Harry..." Sirius said after a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on and on, "please... please don't leave. If it's me, I can go somewhere, find..."

His words had Harry dropping the handle as if it was hot, turning around and stepping back until they were face to face. Sirius looked rough, even for him. His eyes were bloodshot and the days-old beard looked unkempt.

"No." Harry shook his head, "No, Sirius, I'm not chasing you out of your house." He paused, looked away. "It's not even... it's not you, alright? I'm not afraid of you, I told you so."

"...Harry..." Sirius croaked, and to Harry's horror tears began to fall. "I'm so sorry, I was too careless. That damned Pettigrew, if only I'd been stronger..."

Harry didn't know what he was talking about, but he couldn't help but reach out and lay his hand on Sirius' arm, patting it gently. He didn't say that things were okay, because they weren't. Still, the gesture seemed to be enough for Sirius to calm down, dragging his hands away from his face as the tears stopped. He gazed at Harry with tremendous sincerity.

"I wish I could have been there for you, like I should have. You should never have been left all on your own, abandoned by those who cared the most." Suddenly he straightened up, eyes taking on a sheen of determination. "In fact, you won't be, ever again. I will make sure to make up for the lost time and take care of you now. It doesn't matter what you need, I'll do it."

"Heh..." There had been nothing humorous in what Sirius said, yet Harry found that he couldn't help but laugh. This man, basically a stranger, was vowing to help solve all of Harry's problems? He didn't have the slightest clue what he was getting himself into, and there was no way he would actually be able to do it. Harry would certainly appreciate an ally, but unless they had an army at their disposal he wasn't sure how much good they would do. "Well, that's a first."

"Hmph! And not a second too soon. You should have been offered this years ago, you know?"

As a matter of fact, Harry didn't know. He'd managed well enough on his own – well, with the help of Hermione – for most of his life now, and it wasn't as if he needed the help now. "Thanks," he said, "but it's okay. I mean, I don't know you and you don't know me."