Harry Potter Oneshots

seventy two-sirius & harry

requested: That_annoying_kid

ship: sirius & harry

prompt: "I've only just realized how utterly exhausted and drained I am after living after in a constant state of fight-or-flight for so long."

setting: not too specific, but they're sitting on a sofa where Sirius lives

category(?): comfort??

warning/tags: mentions of abuse, supportive!sirius, sad!harry

notes: i hope this is what you wanted!

words: 526

When Sirius closed the back door behind him, --the high from being a free man had still not worn off-- he spotted a lump on his couch. This, of course, wasn't odd. Harry had made a habit of sleeping there rather than his bed as of late. What was odd was that he was awake, and staring at nothing.

  "Um, Harry?" Sirius nudged Harry's head, watching his eyes open.

  "Hi, Sirius. Did you have fun at the shops?"

Sirius nodded slowly. "I saw Nymphie. Are you alright?"

Harry stared at him for a minute, then said sadly, "I'm tired."

  "Then get in bed. You know you're always welcome here."

Harry shook his head as Sirius made to help him up. "No, it's like . . . my head is tired. Mentally I'm exhausted."

Sirius let out a sigh. This kid is like Lily. She never could explain her feelings. Feelings are stupid. "Sit up, let me in."

After a few minutes, Harry grasped his arm, whispering, "Sirius. I've only just realized how utterly exhausted and drained I am after living after in a constant state of fight-or-flight for so long."

As Sirius made to speak, he added, "I'm so exhausted. My brain is so tired."

Sirius was not one who was easily speechless. He always had something to say, a fact Remus reminded him of often as teens. But now, he was speechless.

Harry turned his head to watch him. "Sirius?"

Sirius shook his head, trying to find a response Remus wouldn't smack him for. "Harry, I don't understand. Why do you feel like this?"

Harry shrugged, producing a chocolate from his jeans. "Hermione used to tell me it was wrong, how I didn't care, but I think I did."

Sirius wanted to scream. "Care about what, Harry?"

It was like a light went on in Harry's head. "Oh! Hermione has always thought I didn't care about how awful the Dursleys were. She thinks I should be angry. But I don't agree. I think I was too used to it to be angry. I'm just so tired."

Sirius wanted to gape, but instead said, "Oh. I get it."

Harry frowned at him.

  "Harry, your Dad always thought I should be sad, or something, about my parents. But I wasn't. Sometimes I was really mad, but mostly I was annoyed. It's not the same for anyone, and if they haven't been through it, they can't tell you how to feel."

Harry smiled softly, but asked, "But why am I so exhausted?"

  "Because, when you do live in a state of flight-or-flight for so long, it takes a toll on your mind. Even if you're physically fine, your mind is traumatized. Even without Voldemort, you would be 'tired' because of the Dursleys."

Harry chewed on his lip. "It's not fair."

  "It isn't."

  "I mean, hell," Harry shook his head. "They starved me most my life."

Sirius nodded, and pulled Harry's arm until he was leaning against Sirius. "The cupboard was wrong, on so many levels."

Harry nodded. "My fourth year, at Hogwarts, they sent a tissue."

Sirius hugged him closer as they talked about the jerks that were the Dursley family, and he shared some of his own horror stories of growing up a Black.