Godfather Grim
Trust me, no one is angrier about the lack of viewable progess with Candidus than I am. Ask any of my long-term real-life friends and they will gladly tell you about my Saotome Syndrome: When faced with a story idea, rarely do I fail in accepting and overcoming the challenge. I guess the main problem I'm having with the story came to me while I was editing the later chapters... it was really Sam's baby.
Sam was the girlfriend of a friend who, while rubbed me the wrong way, I saw as a friend. I didn't know behind the scenes she was trying to sabotage my friendship and drag my friend, Lee, into the grime.
Without getting detailed into that mess, Candidus was an interesting idea and I was foolish enough to let her be my beta-reader and the person who nudged it's direction. She originally came up with the challenge and a few more, which are posted on my website if anyone is interested in tackling it. Sadly, she started to change some aspects of the story she didn't like, since most of the time I would just copy and post it and only later realize what she did. She only did it on one or two occasions, but they were hard to fix.
I want to finish Candidus, and now I realize the only way that's going to happen is if I overhaul some aspects of it, and toss out a lot of the ideas she had for it. Hopefully, doing this won't anger the Candidus fans who have been saintly in their patience from waiting, and should make the story easier to understand and have a better flow.
I am still writing, mostly on my original novel that has somehow turned into a trilogy (don't ask me, I'm still gnashing my teeth over how THAT happened), and trying to find a new direction in life (maybe I can be a publisher... *headdesk* ANYTHING to put food on the table and Gaia Cash into my account.... whoops, forget I said that ^^;... ) but know that I do have over 200 ideas still waiting to be written, ones that I came up with myself and would greatly enjoy writing I believe... so if I start posting stories, take it as progress, because I like to multi-task my laziness. Sometimes I'll be writing on up to three stories at once, all in different genres or even different categories! (though, heaven help me, I will NEVER do a Death Note and Bleach one together again... the shinigamis kept jumping the line =.= ).
The one I'm sharing in this post was an intrigue from a folktale I read a while back. I was trying to work my mind around Candidus while reading a magazine because I was stuck in circular reasoning, and it sorta merged. View this as the pilot oneshot of this fic, because I had planned for it to be much longer, but don't have it in me to work on two multi-chapter stories at once.
If anyone wants to use the concepts in this story, feel free, but please give credit where it is due.
Title: Godfather Grim
Author & Email: kuraokamiko
Archived: my journal for now
Fandom: Harry Potter
Part: Beta One-shot
Warning: drama, angst, supernatural, humor
Summary: Created from the concept that came to mind while reading the folktale "Godfather Death", the idea popped into my head about what if Sirius' animagus form was a Grim, and there's more connecting it to the dying soul than others realized?
Pairing: none, yay!
It finally happened. Years under the stranglehold of the Dursleys then constant danger from Voldemort and his crooneys have made him snap. It was the only explanation. After all, tonight was no different from last night--after a day of chores inside the house in case there were 'freaks' outside, he had a sponge down in the bathroom sink, ate his meager meal while his family indulged in a golden roast with the trimmings, and was locked back into the second bedroom until the next morning. He would spend the night trapped with his thoughts and the emotions they always inflicted, though he noticed as time slowly ebbed away, he was able to look at the end of term with some distance. That didn't make his nightmares any better and it didn't make him stop missing Sirius and what could have been.
Still laying in bed, being in the middle of his nightly routine, he had to decide that tonight was very different from last night. Last night he had scant memories of his time with his godfather. Tonight, he was staring into his deceased godfather's eyes. "Barmy, right barmy," he could already hear Ron mutter.
"Harry," Sirius' voice rasped, lower than usual due to the location and time. Harry personally thought that death had that effect, too. Crazy wasn't so bad... until Sirius closed his eyes and repeated himself.
It was then that Harry realized his eyes were starting to burn, and not because he wasn't wearing his glasses. How long had he been staring at the apparition? He blinked, and his brow furrowed as jabbing stings attacked from behind his eyelids. Feeling his eyes water, only from the pain and not because of this break from reality he told himself, he opened them again to look back up at Sirius' image. "Padfoot?"
A bark-like laugh escaped the fugitive before he could stop it, but Harry wasn't worried. It was all in his head, after all, so the Dursleys couldn't hear it. It was nice to see the way the man's lips lifted and showed off his laugh lines. It made his eyes seem brighter. "Geez, pup, for a moment there I was starting to think you slept with your eyes open or something!"
A spark of Harry's ire flickered before disappearing into the gathered ashes. He really had no right to be irritated with his dead godfather. "Well, I had to take a moment to process my sanity's vacation."
The blank look in his godfather's eyes was disturbing now. "What?" he murmured.
Shrugging, Harry elaborated, even as he asked himself why he should. "You're dead. But you're here, in my room, questioning that I'm questioning my sanity." Harry let that float in the air for a moment before he decided to add, "Then again, that would be something you'd do."
Grey-blue eyes rolled as Sirius' lips quirked into a half-grimace. "Yeah, about that..." Seeing Sirius uncomfortable wasn't as funny as Harry imagined it'd be. He had thought about pranking his godfather over Christmas last year by springing The Talk on him, but it never came to fruitation. Harry also had a suspicion that it would have been turned back on him. He refocused on this hallucination when Sirius cleared his throat and settled on the bed, something that felt remarkably real to Harry. "Y'see, Harry... I'm.... well..... damn, how do I put this?"
"Madly in love with Snape?" Harry offered. Back to the blank look, but blood-curling horror was obviously about to break free. "Secretly a transvestite and you want me to hide the photos? Neutered? Christian?"
"Wha-NO!" Sirius shouted before covering his mouth and listening to the house. Harry knew it'd take more than one outburst to wake the Dursleys, proven when the steady snores continued. The animagus turned and gave Harry a gimlit eye before straightening his posture like the pureblood he was. "Harry, there is dead and then there is dead."
"Yeah," drawled out before Harry could think about his response. "And you're dead."
That seemed to take the air out of his godfather's sails because he suddenly slumped and buried his face in his hands with a groan. "It wasn't nearly this difficult when Uncle Rigel explained it."
"Oh? Did he come back from the dead, too?"
"Are you on something?" Sirius asked while leveling Harry with a look. Harry smirked as he realized it wasn't the look Mr. Weasley gave the Twins that screamed, 'Where did we go wrong?!', it said equally loud, 'Why aren't you sharing?!'
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt a giggle start to bubble in his chest. Very bad, giggling is very, very bad. "Sirius, I'm trying to take this as calmly as I can, and for all I know, you're another mind-bash from Voldemort to make me easier to kill."
Running his hands through his gnarled hair, Sirius huffed and then spread his hands out in front of him. "Okay, let me try this again. Harry, I'm not a dog animagus." Harry wanted to say that Sirius was the funniest looking rabbit he'd ever seen but a look from Sirius held his tongue. "I'm a grim."
Sirius sat back with his arms crossed, the satisfied expression on his face portraying that it was the full explanation. Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he felt another round of "Wizarding Things Harry Should Know But Doesn't" start. Looking back at the ceiling, he decided to approach this like it wasn't a delusion. A grim and dead... that only came to one conclusion. "You're here to drag me to the afterlife?"
The sound of Sirius face-palming himself echoed sharply through the room, ruffling Hedwig from her snooze.
That got Harry's attention. Hedwig heard him. "Shit," he ignored Sirius' absent-minded reminder about language, "you're really here?" The look he received between spread fingers proudly proclaimed, "Duh!"
* * *
Even during the night, Harry could feel the sweat beading along his skin, contrasting with the goosebumps that raised the hair on his arms and back of his neck. He ignored it, sitting on a swing in the abandoned park, still in his seat as Sirius swung so high the bars rattled with each pass. The man's eyes were closed, but the generous smile that almost split his face in half stopped Harry from ruining the child-like glee he was experiencing.
Then again, it's been ten minutes and he needed some answers. "So you're death?"
Sirius leaned further back, his fanning hair almost scraping the dirt as he acknowledged Harry's question. "No, it's a bit more complicated than that." Catching Harry's narrowing eyes, Sirius slowed his movements and straightened, his pendelum motion coming to a rocking stop. "What do you know about the grims? No need to repeat what you already know, right?"
Inhaling through his nose, Harry mentally told his temper to bugger off and tried to remember what little he knew about grims. "Omen of deaths, usually in divination. There's probably some fables and myths about them--er... you, but none that I know of. You come when someone's gonna die."
Harry shifted after finishing as Sirius just continued to stare at him. After a few moments of silence, Sirius finally blinked, and with a voice flowing with disbelief, he said, "That's all you know?!"
"Well, what do you expect? Who was supposed to teach me this shit?!" Harry snapped, wanting dearly to choke something more malible than the swing chains.
The jab wasn't worth it as Sirius' gaze lightened to a stormcloud, the animation lighting his face resting into an ominous expression. "Sorry. Guess... I guess I thought you would have read something," he rumbled, and Harry knew that this was something both were going to side-step. Sirius cleared his throat, and started, "The grims are usually around for a person's death, but only when that person is so desperately fighting death. I guess you can say we're the trackers. We find souls trying to escape death, even if those people aren't dead yet."
"So... like ghosts?" Harry asked, trying to understand what his godfather was now.
Snickering erupted from Sirius, rattling the chains in a parody of restless spirits. "Yeah, we can go after ghosts. It's a little redundant, though. They can't go very far. Most times the ghosts people see are the ghosts that get messed with. Being a basher can be a boring job." Wiping his eyes, his mirthful gaze turned back to Harry. "Don't you know the Powers That Be are the greatest pranksters ever? Give them life, give them personality and will, and then take it away, and watch their expressions. You might see it as crass to think of it like that, but a morbid sense of humor is a given for the job."
Harry leaned his head back, looking at the inky sky, the waxing moon so bright it hid the weaker stars from sight. He really didn't know what to make of it. He had a feeling he'd have a minor meltdown later while trying to understand what Sirius was telling him. He felt too tired for that right now. "Why did you come to tell me this?" Sliding his skyward gaze to his godfather, Harry murmured, "Or am I one of the rebels you hunt?"
"Ah, about that," Moving so he sat astride the swing seat, Sirius met Harry's eyes. "You don't have to worry about grims haunting your every step. You're officially off-limits according to the boss." He grinned at Harry's surprise washing over his leaning form. "Technically, you should'uv been hounded, no pun intended, just for the killing curse. Maybe you'll be a grim someday," Sirius adopted a thoughtful look, running a finger over his lower lip, "or boss knows you won't fight..." Expression disturbed now, Sirius settled for shrugging his shoulders. "Well, we'll know when it happens."
Harry stood from his swing, wrapping a hand around one of the chains of Sirius' seat. When his godfather looked up, Harry said, "You didn't answer my first question."
A frown, not the playful one Sirius used when lightening up a situation, but one that he wore whenever something was bothering him personally, adorn his lips. "Is it so hard to believe I wanted to see my godson? You saw me die, pup. And with everything that's been going on this past year... I wanted to see you."
Harry's tightening grip strained against the chains. "So you came to tell me, 'I'm okay, no need to feel guilty' and just leave again." His throat felt like it was swelling and the warm flush made his eyes tighten against the sting. "You shouldn't have. What I feel is what I feel, Sirius, and what right do you have to change that? At least I could have lived knowing you cared enough to come for me, not that you left me like you always have."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sirius lept from his seat, forcing Harry back a step at his furious expression. "What is that supposed to mean? I came back for you-"
"You came back because you're a grim!" It felt good to be a little selfish, to raise his voice without fear of people coming down on his head for it. "I was a convenient pit-stop on the trip! It's always been like this, Sirius! Always! Where were you five years ago?! Where were you when Dumbledore left me with the Dursleys?! I checked the dates, Sirius; I was left with them that very night! You weren't arrested until days later! You broke out for Pettigrew, for God's sake!" Wiping his face, Harry refused to attribute the dampness to tears. "You came to see me to alleave your own guilt. Congrats, see you in the afterlife, happy hunting." Harry turned on his heel, intending to march back into his yearly hell and throw every thought of Sirius into a tiny Slytherin trunk and kick it into the darkest parts of his mind.
Before tonight, he blamed everyone. Voldemort, Bellatrix LeStrange, Snape, Dumbledore, even Hermione and definitely himself. It wasn't until this moment he realized exactly how much he blamed Sirius. A bruising grip on his wrist stopped his intent, and he whirled to face Sirius, mouth open to deliver more bottled-up accusations when he found his sight blocked and air became a problem. He tried to wrench his arm away, and with surprising ease, he managed, only to feel long, sinew arms wrap around him. Breathing in Sirius' scent of musk and dirt and something that refused to be named, he closed his eyes and soaked in Sirius' embrace. However angry he felt, betrayed, hurt and unwanted, he wanted this. It felt so good not to restrain himself and let someone share his burdens for a moment.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Sirius' breath weaved through Harry's hair, the words strained in a way that made his own chest clench. "So sorry. I never meant... I'm stupid sometimes. You weren't always the first thing on my mind, but Harry, never doubt that you were always in my thoughts."
It made Harry feel like all his pain and angst was pointless and wasteful, because that one sentence made everything feel okay. Honesty. That was something he could accept, something he could reliably put his feet on. "I guess we're both stupid sometimes."
"Hey," Sirius pulled back enough for Harry to raise his head, chin resting on Sirius' chest. "Don't do that. Don't apologize for how you feel. It doesn't do you any good, got it? If I could, I would promise that you never feel that way because of me again-"
Shaking his head, Harry buried his face back into Sirius' robes. "No. Promises are just words. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that there are two things people are always doing: making promises and apologizing. I want to stay off of that hamster wheel for as long as I can." Harry inhaled as deep as he could, imagining that Sirius' scent was going to always linger in his lungs before he pulled out of the embrace. He didn't let go of Sirius' robes, though, keeping them tight in his grip. "I guess you're going to go?"
"That eager to get rid of me?" Sirius' smiling visage contradicted his words, but his eyes didn't share the mirth. "It would be difficult if certain parties knew I was still around."
Don't tell anyone about our visit. Harry nodded in agreement to the unspoken words, for once not feeling guilty about keeping something from his friends. Sirius suddenly knelt in front of Harry, forcing Harry to look down as Sirius only came up to his chin now. "I'll be around, though. Even if everyone finds out I'm here and a grim, that won't stop me from coming to you, Harry. Still got that mirror?" At Harry's guilty look and faint nod, he huffed a chuckle. "Guess it isn't in the best shape?"
"I have all the pieces..."
Sirius hummed, smile wide and eyes narrowed in his signiture prank expression. "There's a spell to fix it. Did I ever tell you that you could do magic at Grimmauld?" Harry's shocked expression almost morphed into outrage before he realized waving his wand around in front of his professors and Aurors wasn't a good idea. "Well, it might be a while before you go there, considering Albus has a thing for leaving you here. Blood wards, feh." Fumbling in the folds of his robes, Sirius felt around, searching, and Harry had the sudden desire to start laughing. Anyone passing by would probably think a pedophile was about to propose to a young teenage boy.
At Harry's bit lip and shaking shoulders, Sirius raised an eyebrow but decided to let it go. He held out his hand, where a coil of dark leather string rested in his palm. After a look of askance, Harry picked up the bundle and let the string unravel to reveal a muddled stone smoothed into a shape he vaguely recognized from years of quizzing Hermione in runes. Lifting it into the light, Harry was surprised that the stone turned into a mixture of dark brown, and contrasting blues, like looking down a cliff into the ocean below.
Sirius straightened as Harry examined the pendant, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder as he explained. "It's the rune Thurisaz. That was a happy coincidence, as I only wanted the stone. It should be helpful to you. The stone is empowered shattuckite. I was going to give it to you before summer started, just in case. I let it soak in my blood for a full month." Sirius gently untangled the string from Harry's fingers and pulled the pendant around Harry's neck. "Don't take it off. If you need me, hold it and call to me. It should also help with any, shall we say, unwanted intruders?"
Harry's gaze diverted from the stone to Sirius, "This would fight legilimancy?"
"Well, knowing occulmancy is better, but it'll be an added defense. If you don't work at it, it won't be as strong as it should be." Harry flinched at the casual mention of his failure, but Sirius' hand was back on his shoulder, and gave it a firm squeeze that eased Harry's self-anger. "You did try, Harry. Snivellus couldn't teach a fish to breathe water."
Harry felt torn between amused agreement and feeling uncomfortable at the casual bullying. He decided not to bring either up, especially when Sirius seemed to perk up like he was a dog and look into a distance Harry couldn't see. "Well, time to work I'd wager." He gave Harry a one-armed hug before murmuring, "Take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon enough."
One minute Sirius was there and the next he was looking down at the large, shaggy dog as it panted, tongue hanging out and tail wagging. Harry smiled and gave the grim a scratch between the ears. "Try not to have your cause of death be attributed to any more draperies, Snuffles."
The dog whined, gave a lick to Harry's hand, and disappeared before Harry could track its movements. Harry walked back to the Dursley's house, but instead opted to sit on the front porch steps, playing with the stone and thinking, for the first time since third year, where to go from here. It was always so hard to see the importance of studying and working towards a good future he could be happy with when every year it was a struggle to survive. He realized that made him change his priorities. They were a good change, they kept him alive, but they also tunnel-visioned him.
He had ideas, but no definite paths by the time the sky started to lighten up. He slipped inside before his aunt awoke and closed himself in his room, laying on the bed and, without meaning to, fell asleep. Waking up near noon was a new experience for him, but he knew that no one had called for him. The Dursleys were still walking on eggshells around him due to the threats made by the Order, but he knew soon they would overcome that fear and he'd be back to slaving around.
For a moment, he wondered at the odd dream he had, and unconsciously moved his hand to his chest. When his fingers curled around the cool stone, he closed his eyes and smiled into the high sunlight seeping through the threadbare curtains. Harry wondered if Sirius would visit anyone else, and broke out into peels of laughter as he imagined Moony opening the door then fainting dead away at Sirius' greeting.
Sam was the girlfriend of a friend who, while rubbed me the wrong way, I saw as a friend. I didn't know behind the scenes she was trying to sabotage my friendship and drag my friend, Lee, into the grime.
Without getting detailed into that mess, Candidus was an interesting idea and I was foolish enough to let her be my beta-reader and the person who nudged it's direction. She originally came up with the challenge and a few more, which are posted on my website if anyone is interested in tackling it. Sadly, she started to change some aspects of the story she didn't like, since most of the time I would just copy and post it and only later realize what she did. She only did it on one or two occasions, but they were hard to fix.
I want to finish Candidus, and now I realize the only way that's going to happen is if I overhaul some aspects of it, and toss out a lot of the ideas she had for it. Hopefully, doing this won't anger the Candidus fans who have been saintly in their patience from waiting, and should make the story easier to understand and have a better flow.
I am still writing, mostly on my original novel that has somehow turned into a trilogy (don't ask me, I'm still gnashing my teeth over how THAT happened), and trying to find a new direction in life (maybe I can be a publisher... *headdesk* ANYTHING to put food on the table and Gaia Cash into my account.... whoops, forget I said that ^^;... ) but know that I do have over 200 ideas still waiting to be written, ones that I came up with myself and would greatly enjoy writing I believe... so if I start posting stories, take it as progress, because I like to multi-task my laziness. Sometimes I'll be writing on up to three stories at once, all in different genres or even different categories! (though, heaven help me, I will NEVER do a Death Note and Bleach one together again... the shinigamis kept jumping the line =.= ).
The one I'm sharing in this post was an intrigue from a folktale I read a while back. I was trying to work my mind around Candidus while reading a magazine because I was stuck in circular reasoning, and it sorta merged. View this as the pilot oneshot of this fic, because I had planned for it to be much longer, but don't have it in me to work on two multi-chapter stories at once.
If anyone wants to use the concepts in this story, feel free, but please give credit where it is due.
Title: Godfather Grim
Author & Email: kuraokamiko
Archived: my journal for now
Fandom: Harry Potter
Part: Beta One-shot
Warning: drama, angst, supernatural, humor
Summary: Created from the concept that came to mind while reading the folktale "Godfather Death", the idea popped into my head about what if Sirius' animagus form was a Grim, and there's more connecting it to the dying soul than others realized?
Pairing: none, yay!
It finally happened. Years under the stranglehold of the Dursleys then constant danger from Voldemort and his crooneys have made him snap. It was the only explanation. After all, tonight was no different from last night--after a day of chores inside the house in case there were 'freaks' outside, he had a sponge down in the bathroom sink, ate his meager meal while his family indulged in a golden roast with the trimmings, and was locked back into the second bedroom until the next morning. He would spend the night trapped with his thoughts and the emotions they always inflicted, though he noticed as time slowly ebbed away, he was able to look at the end of term with some distance. That didn't make his nightmares any better and it didn't make him stop missing Sirius and what could have been.
Still laying in bed, being in the middle of his nightly routine, he had to decide that tonight was very different from last night. Last night he had scant memories of his time with his godfather. Tonight, he was staring into his deceased godfather's eyes. "Barmy, right barmy," he could already hear Ron mutter.
"Harry," Sirius' voice rasped, lower than usual due to the location and time. Harry personally thought that death had that effect, too. Crazy wasn't so bad... until Sirius closed his eyes and repeated himself.
It was then that Harry realized his eyes were starting to burn, and not because he wasn't wearing his glasses. How long had he been staring at the apparition? He blinked, and his brow furrowed as jabbing stings attacked from behind his eyelids. Feeling his eyes water, only from the pain and not because of this break from reality he told himself, he opened them again to look back up at Sirius' image. "Padfoot?"
A bark-like laugh escaped the fugitive before he could stop it, but Harry wasn't worried. It was all in his head, after all, so the Dursleys couldn't hear it. It was nice to see the way the man's lips lifted and showed off his laugh lines. It made his eyes seem brighter. "Geez, pup, for a moment there I was starting to think you slept with your eyes open or something!"
A spark of Harry's ire flickered before disappearing into the gathered ashes. He really had no right to be irritated with his dead godfather. "Well, I had to take a moment to process my sanity's vacation."
The blank look in his godfather's eyes was disturbing now. "What?" he murmured.
Shrugging, Harry elaborated, even as he asked himself why he should. "You're dead. But you're here, in my room, questioning that I'm questioning my sanity." Harry let that float in the air for a moment before he decided to add, "Then again, that would be something you'd do."
Grey-blue eyes rolled as Sirius' lips quirked into a half-grimace. "Yeah, about that..." Seeing Sirius uncomfortable wasn't as funny as Harry imagined it'd be. He had thought about pranking his godfather over Christmas last year by springing The Talk on him, but it never came to fruitation. Harry also had a suspicion that it would have been turned back on him. He refocused on this hallucination when Sirius cleared his throat and settled on the bed, something that felt remarkably real to Harry. "Y'see, Harry... I'm.... well..... damn, how do I put this?"
"Madly in love with Snape?" Harry offered. Back to the blank look, but blood-curling horror was obviously about to break free. "Secretly a transvestite and you want me to hide the photos? Neutered? Christian?"
"Wha-NO!" Sirius shouted before covering his mouth and listening to the house. Harry knew it'd take more than one outburst to wake the Dursleys, proven when the steady snores continued. The animagus turned and gave Harry a gimlit eye before straightening his posture like the pureblood he was. "Harry, there is dead and then there is dead."
"Yeah," drawled out before Harry could think about his response. "And you're dead."
That seemed to take the air out of his godfather's sails because he suddenly slumped and buried his face in his hands with a groan. "It wasn't nearly this difficult when Uncle Rigel explained it."
"Oh? Did he come back from the dead, too?"
"Are you on something?" Sirius asked while leveling Harry with a look. Harry smirked as he realized it wasn't the look Mr. Weasley gave the Twins that screamed, 'Where did we go wrong?!', it said equally loud, 'Why aren't you sharing?!'
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt a giggle start to bubble in his chest. Very bad, giggling is very, very bad. "Sirius, I'm trying to take this as calmly as I can, and for all I know, you're another mind-bash from Voldemort to make me easier to kill."
Running his hands through his gnarled hair, Sirius huffed and then spread his hands out in front of him. "Okay, let me try this again. Harry, I'm not a dog animagus." Harry wanted to say that Sirius was the funniest looking rabbit he'd ever seen but a look from Sirius held his tongue. "I'm a grim."
Sirius sat back with his arms crossed, the satisfied expression on his face portraying that it was the full explanation. Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he felt another round of "Wizarding Things Harry Should Know But Doesn't" start. Looking back at the ceiling, he decided to approach this like it wasn't a delusion. A grim and dead... that only came to one conclusion. "You're here to drag me to the afterlife?"
The sound of Sirius face-palming himself echoed sharply through the room, ruffling Hedwig from her snooze.
That got Harry's attention. Hedwig heard him. "Shit," he ignored Sirius' absent-minded reminder about language, "you're really here?" The look he received between spread fingers proudly proclaimed, "Duh!"
* * *
Even during the night, Harry could feel the sweat beading along his skin, contrasting with the goosebumps that raised the hair on his arms and back of his neck. He ignored it, sitting on a swing in the abandoned park, still in his seat as Sirius swung so high the bars rattled with each pass. The man's eyes were closed, but the generous smile that almost split his face in half stopped Harry from ruining the child-like glee he was experiencing.
Then again, it's been ten minutes and he needed some answers. "So you're death?"
Sirius leaned further back, his fanning hair almost scraping the dirt as he acknowledged Harry's question. "No, it's a bit more complicated than that." Catching Harry's narrowing eyes, Sirius slowed his movements and straightened, his pendelum motion coming to a rocking stop. "What do you know about the grims? No need to repeat what you already know, right?"
Inhaling through his nose, Harry mentally told his temper to bugger off and tried to remember what little he knew about grims. "Omen of deaths, usually in divination. There's probably some fables and myths about them--er... you, but none that I know of. You come when someone's gonna die."
Harry shifted after finishing as Sirius just continued to stare at him. After a few moments of silence, Sirius finally blinked, and with a voice flowing with disbelief, he said, "That's all you know?!"
"Well, what do you expect? Who was supposed to teach me this shit?!" Harry snapped, wanting dearly to choke something more malible than the swing chains.
The jab wasn't worth it as Sirius' gaze lightened to a stormcloud, the animation lighting his face resting into an ominous expression. "Sorry. Guess... I guess I thought you would have read something," he rumbled, and Harry knew that this was something both were going to side-step. Sirius cleared his throat, and started, "The grims are usually around for a person's death, but only when that person is so desperately fighting death. I guess you can say we're the trackers. We find souls trying to escape death, even if those people aren't dead yet."
"So... like ghosts?" Harry asked, trying to understand what his godfather was now.
Snickering erupted from Sirius, rattling the chains in a parody of restless spirits. "Yeah, we can go after ghosts. It's a little redundant, though. They can't go very far. Most times the ghosts people see are the ghosts that get messed with. Being a basher can be a boring job." Wiping his eyes, his mirthful gaze turned back to Harry. "Don't you know the Powers That Be are the greatest pranksters ever? Give them life, give them personality and will, and then take it away, and watch their expressions. You might see it as crass to think of it like that, but a morbid sense of humor is a given for the job."
Harry leaned his head back, looking at the inky sky, the waxing moon so bright it hid the weaker stars from sight. He really didn't know what to make of it. He had a feeling he'd have a minor meltdown later while trying to understand what Sirius was telling him. He felt too tired for that right now. "Why did you come to tell me this?" Sliding his skyward gaze to his godfather, Harry murmured, "Or am I one of the rebels you hunt?"
"Ah, about that," Moving so he sat astride the swing seat, Sirius met Harry's eyes. "You don't have to worry about grims haunting your every step. You're officially off-limits according to the boss." He grinned at Harry's surprise washing over his leaning form. "Technically, you should'uv been hounded, no pun intended, just for the killing curse. Maybe you'll be a grim someday," Sirius adopted a thoughtful look, running a finger over his lower lip, "or boss knows you won't fight..." Expression disturbed now, Sirius settled for shrugging his shoulders. "Well, we'll know when it happens."
Harry stood from his swing, wrapping a hand around one of the chains of Sirius' seat. When his godfather looked up, Harry said, "You didn't answer my first question."
A frown, not the playful one Sirius used when lightening up a situation, but one that he wore whenever something was bothering him personally, adorn his lips. "Is it so hard to believe I wanted to see my godson? You saw me die, pup. And with everything that's been going on this past year... I wanted to see you."
Harry's tightening grip strained against the chains. "So you came to tell me, 'I'm okay, no need to feel guilty' and just leave again." His throat felt like it was swelling and the warm flush made his eyes tighten against the sting. "You shouldn't have. What I feel is what I feel, Sirius, and what right do you have to change that? At least I could have lived knowing you cared enough to come for me, not that you left me like you always have."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sirius lept from his seat, forcing Harry back a step at his furious expression. "What is that supposed to mean? I came back for you-"
"You came back because you're a grim!" It felt good to be a little selfish, to raise his voice without fear of people coming down on his head for it. "I was a convenient pit-stop on the trip! It's always been like this, Sirius! Always! Where were you five years ago?! Where were you when Dumbledore left me with the Dursleys?! I checked the dates, Sirius; I was left with them that very night! You weren't arrested until days later! You broke out for Pettigrew, for God's sake!" Wiping his face, Harry refused to attribute the dampness to tears. "You came to see me to alleave your own guilt. Congrats, see you in the afterlife, happy hunting." Harry turned on his heel, intending to march back into his yearly hell and throw every thought of Sirius into a tiny Slytherin trunk and kick it into the darkest parts of his mind.
Before tonight, he blamed everyone. Voldemort, Bellatrix LeStrange, Snape, Dumbledore, even Hermione and definitely himself. It wasn't until this moment he realized exactly how much he blamed Sirius. A bruising grip on his wrist stopped his intent, and he whirled to face Sirius, mouth open to deliver more bottled-up accusations when he found his sight blocked and air became a problem. He tried to wrench his arm away, and with surprising ease, he managed, only to feel long, sinew arms wrap around him. Breathing in Sirius' scent of musk and dirt and something that refused to be named, he closed his eyes and soaked in Sirius' embrace. However angry he felt, betrayed, hurt and unwanted, he wanted this. It felt so good not to restrain himself and let someone share his burdens for a moment.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Sirius' breath weaved through Harry's hair, the words strained in a way that made his own chest clench. "So sorry. I never meant... I'm stupid sometimes. You weren't always the first thing on my mind, but Harry, never doubt that you were always in my thoughts."
It made Harry feel like all his pain and angst was pointless and wasteful, because that one sentence made everything feel okay. Honesty. That was something he could accept, something he could reliably put his feet on. "I guess we're both stupid sometimes."
"Hey," Sirius pulled back enough for Harry to raise his head, chin resting on Sirius' chest. "Don't do that. Don't apologize for how you feel. It doesn't do you any good, got it? If I could, I would promise that you never feel that way because of me again-"
Shaking his head, Harry buried his face back into Sirius' robes. "No. Promises are just words. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that there are two things people are always doing: making promises and apologizing. I want to stay off of that hamster wheel for as long as I can." Harry inhaled as deep as he could, imagining that Sirius' scent was going to always linger in his lungs before he pulled out of the embrace. He didn't let go of Sirius' robes, though, keeping them tight in his grip. "I guess you're going to go?"
"That eager to get rid of me?" Sirius' smiling visage contradicted his words, but his eyes didn't share the mirth. "It would be difficult if certain parties knew I was still around."
Don't tell anyone about our visit. Harry nodded in agreement to the unspoken words, for once not feeling guilty about keeping something from his friends. Sirius suddenly knelt in front of Harry, forcing Harry to look down as Sirius only came up to his chin now. "I'll be around, though. Even if everyone finds out I'm here and a grim, that won't stop me from coming to you, Harry. Still got that mirror?" At Harry's guilty look and faint nod, he huffed a chuckle. "Guess it isn't in the best shape?"
"I have all the pieces..."
Sirius hummed, smile wide and eyes narrowed in his signiture prank expression. "There's a spell to fix it. Did I ever tell you that you could do magic at Grimmauld?" Harry's shocked expression almost morphed into outrage before he realized waving his wand around in front of his professors and Aurors wasn't a good idea. "Well, it might be a while before you go there, considering Albus has a thing for leaving you here. Blood wards, feh." Fumbling in the folds of his robes, Sirius felt around, searching, and Harry had the sudden desire to start laughing. Anyone passing by would probably think a pedophile was about to propose to a young teenage boy.
At Harry's bit lip and shaking shoulders, Sirius raised an eyebrow but decided to let it go. He held out his hand, where a coil of dark leather string rested in his palm. After a look of askance, Harry picked up the bundle and let the string unravel to reveal a muddled stone smoothed into a shape he vaguely recognized from years of quizzing Hermione in runes. Lifting it into the light, Harry was surprised that the stone turned into a mixture of dark brown, and contrasting blues, like looking down a cliff into the ocean below.
Sirius straightened as Harry examined the pendant, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder as he explained. "It's the rune Thurisaz. That was a happy coincidence, as I only wanted the stone. It should be helpful to you. The stone is empowered shattuckite. I was going to give it to you before summer started, just in case. I let it soak in my blood for a full month." Sirius gently untangled the string from Harry's fingers and pulled the pendant around Harry's neck. "Don't take it off. If you need me, hold it and call to me. It should also help with any, shall we say, unwanted intruders?"
Harry's gaze diverted from the stone to Sirius, "This would fight legilimancy?"
"Well, knowing occulmancy is better, but it'll be an added defense. If you don't work at it, it won't be as strong as it should be." Harry flinched at the casual mention of his failure, but Sirius' hand was back on his shoulder, and gave it a firm squeeze that eased Harry's self-anger. "You did try, Harry. Snivellus couldn't teach a fish to breathe water."
Harry felt torn between amused agreement and feeling uncomfortable at the casual bullying. He decided not to bring either up, especially when Sirius seemed to perk up like he was a dog and look into a distance Harry couldn't see. "Well, time to work I'd wager." He gave Harry a one-armed hug before murmuring, "Take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon enough."
One minute Sirius was there and the next he was looking down at the large, shaggy dog as it panted, tongue hanging out and tail wagging. Harry smiled and gave the grim a scratch between the ears. "Try not to have your cause of death be attributed to any more draperies, Snuffles."
The dog whined, gave a lick to Harry's hand, and disappeared before Harry could track its movements. Harry walked back to the Dursley's house, but instead opted to sit on the front porch steps, playing with the stone and thinking, for the first time since third year, where to go from here. It was always so hard to see the importance of studying and working towards a good future he could be happy with when every year it was a struggle to survive. He realized that made him change his priorities. They were a good change, they kept him alive, but they also tunnel-visioned him.
He had ideas, but no definite paths by the time the sky started to lighten up. He slipped inside before his aunt awoke and closed himself in his room, laying on the bed and, without meaning to, fell asleep. Waking up near noon was a new experience for him, but he knew that no one had called for him. The Dursleys were still walking on eggshells around him due to the threats made by the Order, but he knew soon they would overcome that fear and he'd be back to slaving around.
For a moment, he wondered at the odd dream he had, and unconsciously moved his hand to his chest. When his fingers curled around the cool stone, he closed his eyes and smiled into the high sunlight seeping through the threadbare curtains. Harry wondered if Sirius would visit anyone else, and broke out into peels of laughter as he imagined Moony opening the door then fainting dead away at Sirius' greeting.