Wicked

Hi all, I know I know I know, it´s been ages- here´s the newest chapter, finally, and I´m sorry for the long wait!
Many thanks to all who´ve read, voted and reviewed, it does mean a lot to me (and I´ll try to update faster again, promise ;D)!

SilverLion: Thanks for the hint! I confused them...

Enjoy!


“Harry, calm down!” Sirius folded his arms over his chest and looked at his godson worriedly.

Harry buried his face in his hands, feeling so utterly helpless: “It wasn´t just a dream,” he repeated. “I was the snake, Sirius, I bit him! I could feel the blood...” He broke off, confused and disgusted by himself.

He was sitting on his bed in Grimmauld Place; the musty smell of the room just added to how miserable Harry felt right then, and he could feel himself shaking.

His hands were cold, he registered in a far corner of his mind, while he wondered what was going to happen to him. He had had a vision which had been significantly different from the ones he had had before- he had been in the corridor again, only this time he had been a snake- only this time he had bitten Arthur Weasley, who had stood guard over something in said corridor, which had resulted in nearly killing him.

Harry didn´t see Sirius kneeling down in front of him, thus he flinched when he felt his godfather´s warm hands on his shoulders: “Harry,” Sirius said softly. “We´ve been over this already, haven´t we? There´s no way that Voldemort could have possessed you, or that you actually are responsible for the attack on Arthur.”

Harry began to shake now; he still hadn´t come to a grip with the night´s horrible events. His scar had hurt terribly, worse than ever before, when he had woken up, the taste of blood still on his tongue, causing him to vomit; he had barely managed to roll over so as not to soil the bed.

Draco had not hesitated to scramble out of bed and wake Malcolm, who had been alert in an instant; the other boys had not noticed anything, thanks to the Silencing Charm, and in retrospect Harry was grateful for that.

After Malcolm had taken Harry to McGonagall and further to Dumbledore, things had happened very fast; Harry and the Weasley children had been taken to Grimmauld Place while the old Headmaster was doing his best to sort things out.

Harry had tried to avoid any eye-contact while waiting in silence for any news; he could sense the others´ looks on himself, especially Ron´s, but he wasn´t up to deal with that right then.

He had heard Sirius arguing with the twins, who wanted to go to St Mungo´s straight away after they had been informed that Arthur had been found in time and was alive; later on, Molly had sent a note from the hospital, telling them that all would be well and that the family would be allowed to visit later on.

Harry only felt marginally relieved; he tried to convince himself that he couldn´t possibly have taken on the form of a snake, of the snake, for he was painfully aware whose snake it had been; yet it had felt so real, he had even tasted the blood, the remainder of its scent still lingering in his nostrils. And there was more...

“I think I´m going mad,” Harry whispered now, finally looking up into Sirius´ sympathetic face. “Back in Dumbledore´s office, just before we took the Portkey... for a couple of seconds there I thought I was the snake, I felt like one- my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore- Sirius, I wanted to attack him!”

Sirius looked at him for a few seconds: “I wish I could take this burden off you,” he said unexpectedly, his voice hoarse, before slowly and gently pulling Harry into his arms.

Harry closed his eyes and held on to Sirius as though he was holding on to dear life; tears which had threatened to come out ever since the dream spilled over now, and he wept. He had never had a parental figure to help him take on whatever problems he was facing, someone who had been there simply to provide a shoulder to cry on; he couldn´t believe how good it felt.

If he pretended not to notice how thin and emaciated Sirius´ body was, he could try and make himself believe that it was James who was holding him, his father. He knew he was doing his godfather injustice, yet he couldn´t stop himself.

It was only when Harry eventually calmed down that Sirius pulled back a little: “You should try and get some sleep,” he said. “You look terrible, if I may say so.”

Harry laughed chokedly through the reminders of his tears, but he didn´t want to lie down: “What if I... if the snake-“

Sirius cut him off by beginning to pull Harry´s shoes off his feet: “You won´t,” he said as calmly as he could. He felt awfully sorry for Harry, and he could see that the teen was afraid of more visions like that. “I´ll stay with you until you´re asleep, okay?”

His godson nodded meekly before scrambling under the covers Sirius was holding up for him. The older wizard carefully tucked him in and sat down on the edge of the bed afterwards. Harry felt oddly at home, something he had rarely experienced in his life; he wanted to savour this moment, this little reprieve from everything that was going on.

Sirius smiled at him and laid one hand on Harry´s chest: “You have a heart, Harry,” he said very softly. “In here is what counts and what will forever make you very different from Voldemort.”

Harry closed his eyes: if Sirius knew just who was residing in that heart, he thought, who Harry longed to be with in every waking minute and especially now that he felt vulnerable and lost. He missed Draco terribly and hoped he was all right. When Sirius made to pull his hand away, Harry made a split-second decision and quickly gripped it, holding on to it: “I need to tell you something,” he said, barely audible. “Can you come closer?”

If he was surprised, Sirius didn´t let it on; instead, he stretched out on the bed next to Harry so that their heads were on the same level and waited for his godson to continue.

Harry turned to look at him: “I am in love,” he whispered. Sirius´ face lit up a little, which was exactly what Harry was dreading.

There was no way out now, however, thus he hurried to continue before his courage would leave him: “It´s a guy,” he whispered, “and I have never felt like this before. He is making me happy, really happy, and I love him so much I sometimes find it hard not to burst into singing.”

He took a deep breath when he saw that a kind smile had spread on Sirius´ face; he didn´t seem to mind that Harry was gay. Misinterpreting the relief on his godson´s face, he chuckled quietly: “I don´t care wether it´s a girl or a boy, Harry,” he stated. “As long as you´re happy.”

Harry swallowed: “Thanks... but that´s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Draco Malfoy. Sirius stared at Harry, who had finally succumbed to sleep. His godfather had stayed with him, as promised, and had pondered their talk, replaying it over and over in his head: his Harry was in love with Draco Malfoy. The son of Lucius Malfoy, one of Voldemort´s most devoted followers, a man who was cruel enough to betray his own kin, a man who didn´t even stop from torturing said son.

Sirius subdued a sigh; Harry had been upset and confused enough, thus he hadn´t said anything. He was glad about that now, because it probably had prevented him from saying something he´d later regret. He gingerly reached out and stroked Harry´s unruly hair: he couldn´t bear the thought of someone hurting him, and that included his own self.

Having made up his mind, he cautiously got off the bed and went downstairs to floo Remus Lupin. He needed a second opinion on this.

The house was quiet; most of the Weasley children had retreated to the various vacant bedrooms to catch up on a little sleep before visiting their father. Only Ron was still sitting in the kitchen, his head drooping; he hadn´t wanted to interrupt Harry and Sirius, whom he had heard talking through the door, thus he had returned downstairs and settled in an armchair by the fireplace.

He looked up when Sirius came in, a little startled at first; Sirius gave him a feeble smile: “Harry´s asleep,” he said. “You look like you could do with a nap as well.” Ron nodded tiredly: “Is he all right?” he asked, slowly getting up.

“He will be,” Sirius replied, rubbing his hand over his eyes. Ron nodded once more and left. Sirius looked after him, suddenly glad that Harry had such a loyal friend.

Lupin gave a low chuckle: “I should have known,” he said good-naturedly. When Sirius raised one eyebrow questioningly, his friend began telling him about Harry´s birthday and how differently Draco had seemed then, how he had even apologized for his former behaviour.

“He has been through a terrible ordeal, Siri,” Lupin finally said. “And he has had time to think.”

Sirius remained silent for a long time before he voiced his main concern: “What if all this is a set-up?”

Lupin shook his head: “I suspected the same until Dumbledore told me that Draco had allowed him to watch the memories of his imprisonment in the Pensieve. Albus has of course subjected them to all kinds of authenticity-charms, and he is positive that they haven´t been modified in any way.”

He looked at Sirius: “Draco is in fact very lucky to have survived what those sick bastards did to him,” he said very quietly. “And I believe he´s been sincere about his apology.”

“Maybe,” Sirius admitted reluctantly. “And I can´t say I´m not sorry for him. Dumbledore still shouldn´t have hidden him with Harry, though. He´s got enough on his plate already.”

Lupin shook his head: “You know as well as I do that Dumbledore´s got his reasons,” he admonished his old friend. “And I think you´re underestimating Harry as well as you´re underestimating Draco.”

Sirius smiled at him sheepishly: “You´re saying I should trust Harry´s opinion.”
“I believe they´ve been good for each other, and yes, I am saying exactly that.”
“So... Harry´s gay.”
“It seems that he is.”
“It won´t make his life easier.”
“I know.”
“He´s gay and in love with Draco Malfoy. Adores him.”
“Exactly.”
“I don´t mind the first part, and I´ll probably get used to the last part, won´t I?”
“I trust you will.”
“Thanks. And you can stop trying to hide that grin now.”
“Thank Merlin, I thought I´d get a muscle spasm in my face.”
“Muscle spasm my arse.”

Lupin chuckled once more: “Come on,” he said lightly, “let´s have a look if there´s some Firewhiskey in the pantry.”
“Good thinking. Merlin, Draco Malfoy... Harry talked about him as though he were an angel.”
“In Harry´s eyes, he obviously is.”
“Hm. You should have seen his eyes- shining like mad while he was telling me how special and caring this angel is. One moment he was all distraught, the other he´s talking like there´s no tomorrow.”
“Here´s to angels.”
“Here´s to love.”

They had just emptied their glasses when Molly Weasley arrived, looking haggard and pale, but unmistakably relieved. She sank onto the nearest chair: “He´ll be fine,” he breathed quietly and motioned towards the whiskey bottle. “I could do with one of those now, if you don´t mind.”

Lupin hurriedly summoned a glass for her, pointedly avoiding Sirius´gaze while both of them were thinking the same: they had temporarily but completely forgotten about Arthur.

To make up for it, Remus and Sirius cooked a late breakfast for Molly; she didn´t want to wake her children or Harry and they´d have to wait until the afternoon before they would be able to go to St Mungo´s anyway.

They were discussing Harry´s vision when there were hurried steps on the stairs, and a moment later the door burst open to reveal Ron, who looked tousled and distressed: “Harry´s dreaming again, I can´t wake him up,” he said. Sirius was already out of the door before Ron realized his mother was there.
Wordlessly, she got to her feet and pulled her son into a fierce hug: “I wish we´d live in less troubled times,” she said chokedly, stroking Ron´s back as though he was the only one who needed this comfort.

Sirius caught a trashing Harry in his arms: the boy was sweating and sobbing, and his face was scrunched up as though in pain. Sirius held him until all attempts to free himself abated, and until Harry stopped shaking; he cradled him close, talking to Harry as calmly as he could. It wasn´t easy, though, as all this greatly upset Sirius.

“Wake up, Harry,” he urged when Harry was calm enough to register the voice that was floating around him. “It was only a dream...”

Harry looked at him bleary-eyed when he eventually awoke: “Sirius...” he murmured, exhaustion evident in his voice. “I was dreaming again...” “I´m so sorry, Harry,” Sirius whispered. “Are you okay?” “I dreamed of him... he killed Cedric...”

Harry was beginning to shake anew. It took a long time for him to calm down, but in the end he did.

Sirius made him sit up: “You´re soaked,” he said. “Let´s get you into something dry.”

Harry was too dazed to mind or even feel embarassed about having someone tending to him like a child, and he was glad about the fresh shirt Sirius helped him into.

“Tell you what,” Sirius then said, “I have a surprise for you. I actually wanted to wait until the day after tomorrow, as it´s not Christmas yet, but I think the time is actually perfect right now. Come on.”

Harry eyed him warily, but scrambled to his feet nevertheless; wrapped in his night-gown, he followed Sirius downstairs. They passed Sirius´ room and stopped in front of the one next to it, the one which had once belonged to Regulus Black, Sirius´ brother.

“I thought you would like your own room, and not the one you stayed in during the summer,” Sirius explained. “Since you´re one day going to live here anyway, I mean.”

At these words, the heaviness in Harry´s heart lifted considerably. Even more so when Sirius opened the door and showed him in: the room had recently been painted and redecorated; the large four-poster bed was covered with a deeply red plaid and had hangings of the same colour.

One door lead to an adjoining bathroom. There were a shelf for books and a perch for an Owl as well as a desk and wardrobe, all made of light-coloured wood and looking new. In one corner there was a stuffed chair with a reading lamp and a small table next to it, and the window sill was a large, cushioned seat.

The sun shone in and illuminated the framed picture on the wall: Harry´s parents, smiling and waving into the camera.

The whole room looked like someone had put a lot of time and effort into it.

Harry wordlessly turned around and slung his arms around Sirius, who anxiously asked his godson wether this was okay.

“It´s perfect,” Harry murmured into his chest, “thank you so much.” A warm smile spread on Sirius´ worn face: “Happy Christmas, Harry” he murmured. For a long time, Harry very tightly held on to the man who was trying so hard to substitute for his father, then he let go and climbed onto the bed: “Can I stay here?” he asked. Sirius nodded: “Of course. I´ll have Kreacher bring the rest of your things. Do you think you´ll be okay now?”

Harry nodded as well, but he didn´t intend to lie down again; once Sirius had left the room, he sat down on the window seat and stared out into the sunny December day, trying not to think of the nightmare, but concentrating on Draco instead, wondering whatever he was doing right then.

They hadn´t had time to say goodbye, and he didn´t even know where his boyfriend was going to spend Christmas. He jumped to his feet, intent on finding out, but than sank back down onto the bed; he wasn´t ready to face the Weasleys, he could tell that they were still wondering how he had known about their father, and he couldn´t bear the idea of being looked at with mistrust right now.

He was sure they were talking about him. Another, very dreadful thought which had so far lingered in the back of mind assaulted Harry now: what if it wasn´t safe for Draco to be with Harry anymore? What if he really was possessed, he could easily hurt his boyfriend like he had hurt Mr Weasley! Or worse- if Voldemort was possessing him, was he also able to look into Harry´s mind?

He got to his feet and punched his fist into the wall at this: it wasn´t fair. It simply wasn´t fair.

Hermione had known that something was wrong when neither Harry nor Ron had come down from the boys´ dormitory two days before Christmas Eve; she hadn´t needed to see Finn´s exceptionally pale face to confirm that either, but she hadn´t been prepared for the story Dumbledore finally told her after she had been called to his office.

“B-but they´re okay, aren´t they?” she finally asked with a shaking voice, and Dumbledore smiled at the girl´s compassion: “They will be,” he said. “I´ve just had a message from Molly, it looks as though Arthur has been lucky to have been found in time. And Harry... he´s strong.”

Hermione involuntarily smiled: “He is,” she agreed. Dumbledore nodded, a little sadly.

“He is going to stay with Snuffles over Christmas,” he then said. “I am sure he´ll like that.”

Hermione had her doubts about that, considering the dark old house in Grimmauld Place and Sirius´ moodswings, but on the other hand she knew how important Sirius was to Harry, and this might be the chance for some further bonding between the two.

To lighten the mood a little, Dumbledore asked Hermione about her own plans for the Christmas break.

“I´m going skiing with my parents,” she said, glad to be able to change the topic. Dumbledore leaned forward: “Skiing? How splendid,” he said eagerly. “I have to admit that I´d like to try it one day, even though I can already hear Professor McGonagall listing me at least fifty reasons why I shouldn´t. I trust that you can enlighten me as to what those two sticks are used for? I´ve been told they´re used to push other Muggles out of the way, but surely that´s not true?”

When Hermione left the headmaster´s office five minutes later, she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts to notice Finn and Liam Bailey, who were approaching the stone gargoyle from the opposite direction.

Draco couldn´t shake off the images of the night; he had done so ever since Harry had been marched off in the night, and had tried not to think about the vision Harry had had. It must have been horrible, judging from the state Harry had been in, and Draco was wondering what had happened afterwards.

His questions were answered by the headmaster, who was eyeing Finn sympathetically: “I gather you have been quite distressed,” he said kindly. “Let me reassure you that Harry is relatively well, he hasn´t suffered any bodily harm.”

“Mr Weasley?” Finn asked tonelessly.

“Has been found in time,” Dumbledore replied. “He´s in St Mungo´s.”

Draco exhaled as though he had held his breath for a long time, while the headmaster continued: “I have thoroughly considered whichever are the best options concerning your safety during the Christmas break; I´d rather not have you stay at Hogwarts while there are so few people here, thus I have decided to debate the matter with the other members of the Order of the Phoenix. We´ll meet this afternoon, thus I´ll be able to inform you tonight.”

Harry stayed in his new room all day, effectively hiding from anyone else. He heard the Weasleys leave for St Mungo´s and later return, chatting animatedly, but still didn´t come out, even though he would have loved to know how Mr Weasley was doing.

In the evening someone knocked on Harry´s door: “Harry? It´s me, Ginny! Open up!” Harry considered pretending not to be there, but in the end got up and unlocked the door, only to face a very stern-looking red-head, who greatly resembled Hermione in the way she had crossed her arms: “You can´t hide in there forever. We need to talk!” “I´m tired.”

“Of what?” Ginny simply stepped in. “You´ve been doing nothing but hiding!”

“So?” Harry grew angry. “I didn´t want any company, especially not now! I know you´re all talking about me, and it´s not very hard to guess what you´re all thinking: Harry´s weird, and if he´s seeing things through the eyes of Voldemort´s snake, he can´t but be possessed!”

Ginny shook her head and sighed: “Look, I can understand-“
“No, you can´t,” Harry snapped. “You have no idea!”
“Oh really? If you stopped pitying yourself for a minute, you might remember that I of all people should know exactly how you feel, since it´s been me who´s actually been possessed by You-Know-Who! And who can possibly tell you wether you are or not!”

Harry gaped at her. “Yes, well... “ was all he could say for a while, feeling unbelievably stupid. Had he been so preoccupied with himself lately that he had stopped thinking logically?

“I´m sorry,” he finally added sheepishly.

Ginny only snorted through her nose.


To Be Continued


Author´s note:

The line:

“I think I´m going mad. Back in Dumbledore´s office, just before we took the Portkey... for a couple of seconds there I thought I was the snake, I felt like one- my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore- Sirius, I wanted to attack him!”

is quoted from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling, of the 2003 Bloomsbury Edition.