Dysfunctional

48 - The Wedding

Two days after the incident in Number Twelve, Sirius sat Harry down and let him talk about what had happened in the cave.

Harry left out nothing; he explained about the potion that Dumbledore drank and also about the Inferi attack. Sirius told him how he had already been there with his Headmaster and how he had thought Dumbledore would take him along instead. But Sirius could not stay furious with their late Headmaster when he realized that he must have really trusted Harry, more than even himself. He must have known what that potion would do and had perhaps not wanted to be vulnerable with anyone else.

Harry didn't know how to feel about that - to know that was why Dumbledore had taken him along... He felt more like a failure for having done nothing but watch him get murdered right in front of his eyes. He should have tried to summon his wand or at least remove the spell Dumbledore had placed on him. A rational part of him knew it was impossible - he couldn't have summoned his wand when he was immobile - but what was the point of knowing non-verbal spells if he could not use them when it really mattered?

If only he had done something...

Sirius was quick to shut down Harry's regret when he pointed out that he would have been surrounded by Death Eaters and he was no match against the likes of Snape. Even though it made sense, Harry couldn't help but wonder how many more would die because of his ineptitude - his parents, Cedric, and now Dumbledore.

The days after Dumbledore's funeral were quiet in the Potter Manor. Sirius and Remus left for Order meetings almost every day now, leaving Harry on his own in the house. He didn't mind it too much anyway - he liked it when Sirius, Remus, and Tonks were around, but sometimes he just wanted to be by himself, without someone constantly telling him to eat (he didn't have much of an appetite nowadays) or fly outside to clear his head. He knew they only meant well, but it was grating on his nerves.

To keep himself occupied and to feel like he was doing something, Harry tried to look up any book that might have some information about the Horcruxes in his grandfather's library. But, predictably, there was nothing that even mentioned them.

He had taken to inspecting the locket in his grandfather's study every now and again. Harry tried looking up powerful spells that could destroy it, but it was time-consuming, as he first needed to master said spells, before he could use them on the locket.

One such practice session ended with the roof of the attic caving in, to Sirius' exasperation.

"I've told you a hundred times to practice only in the Duelling Room, Harry!" said Sirius through gritted teeth.

Harry looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry."

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Don't apologize."

"Right, sorr-" Harry pressed his lips to keep from repeating it again. He knew by now the aphorism that was always thrown around in their house. Harry had realized he had the habit of apologizing for anything and everything that went wrong, even if it was not directly because of him. Sirius pointed this out to him once and had made it his mission to break that habit of his, even if Harry really thought an apology was warranted. He would learn to use his words better, as Sirius had said, whatever that meant.

"You sound like my mum," groaned Tonks. The three adults had just been leaving the house when it had happened, and they had rushed up to the attic on hearing the crash. "Accidents happen! When did you become such an annoying parent?"