10

Halloween Wiles and Woes

In the morning, Harry woke to the weight of not one or two, but three bodies landing hard on his stomach, legs, and chest. Instinctively, still not fully awake, he cast wandless stinging jinxes at every foreign object he could reach while his other hand fumbled for his wand. The resulting yelps and thuds brought him into proper awareness that no, he was not being attacked. He was merely being pounced on by three sixteen-year-old boys with far too much energy for so early in the morning. Then he was casting on purpose.

"What the hell, Harrison?" Sirius complained, dodging out of the way of yet another stinging jinx and rubbing at a welt on his arm.

"I've warned you that I've been known to curse people when they wake me up," Harry said dangerously, albeit sleepily. "It's not my fault you chose to ignore that warning."

"I did warn you," Remus said from across the room. "He's worse than I am on the f—on some mornings," he corrected, his face paling slightly at what he'd almost said.

"And we didn't believe you," Peter said sheepishly, rubbing at a welt on his elbow.

"Do you believe me now?" Harry demanded.

"Yes, sir," James and Sirius said meekly.

"Then get out of the way so I can get ready," Harry said pointedly—the two of them were sitting near his trunk, making it hard to get to.

They both yelped and moved quickly out of the way—tripping over themselves in the process. Harry rolled his eyes while Peter and Remus laughed. Then he rolled off the bed and knelt by his trunk to find a fresh set of clothes. There was a particular jumper he wanted to wear, but it was at the bottom of everything. He also had to find the fireworks for Peeves, he remembered. So he started digging through his trunk, haphazardly tossing out books and scraps of parchment and a random assortment of other objects until he finally found what he was looking for.

"Hey, what's that?" Sirius's voice started him.

Harry looked up to see Sirius reaching for a familiar worn leather-bound photo album that had fallen open. Harry snatched it up hastily, his heart pounding.

"The hell?" Sirius complained. "I just wanted to see!"

"Sorry," Harry muttered. "Just…it's very personal."

Sirius threw his hands up in surrender. "Okay, sorry."

Harry nodded shortly, then put everything back, except for the photo album—which he didn't dare put down, for fear Sirius would look at it anyway—and the box of fireworks he'd promised Peeves. Then he pulled his hangings shut.

Once hidden, Harry pulled out his wand and cast a number of charms over the photo album he'd gotten from Hagrid his first Christmas at Hogwarts, mostly to make it appear a regular book to anyone but himself. He'd added to it over the years, but it was still the only place he had pictures of his parents. Maybe he could see them whenever he wanted now, but it wasn't the same. They weren't his parents here; they were his friends. And at times, that made it harder.

Almost without thinking, Harry opened the album to the only photo that included all three of them—his dad, his mum, and he, Harry, as a baby. He traced over them with his finger, not quite touching the photo, and bit his lip. Then he hastily closed the album and tucked it away under his pillow.

Impatiently he swiped his shirt sleeve over his eyes, then he changed into fresh clothes and straightened his shoulders. He refused to ruin the fun they had planned by being depressed and moody all day. And just to prove it to himself, he morphed streaks of orange into his black hair in honor of the holiday. It was easy enough to pass off under the label of a few color-change charms. Then he pushed back his hangings and held out the box of fireworks.

"Who's ready for a real prank?" Harry asked, forcing a smile. He could tell all the other boys were instantly suspicious of his sudden mood change, but it was easy enough to distract James and Sirius, at least, with the promise of mischief.

"What's with the fireworks?" Remus asked with a furrowed brow.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.

"It was you who made the deal with Peeves," James pointed out.

Remus's eyebrows went straight to his hairline. "Me? Making a deal with Peeves? What kind of suicidal idiot do you take me for?"

"But—"

"You—"

"I would never make a deal with Peeves. He'd go back on it in an instant!"

"But—"

"Actually…" James trailed off. "It was sort of suspicious how you just appeared out of nowhere when you were supposed to be on the fifth floor."

"I never left the fifth floor. I was never on the fourth floor last night."

"Don't tell McGonagall that," Sirius said, well, seriously.

Remus narrowed his eyes. "Okay. Someone had better start talking. I'd like to know if someone is impersonating me. And how. And how they fooled you, of all people," Remus said, giving James and Sirius pointed looks. They looked a little shamefaced, but James started talking.

"We were nearly done, see, when Mrs. Norris appeared. So naturally, we ran, because she went to fetch ol' Filch. Then Peeves comes flying out of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom making this god-awful racket, and Moaning Myrtle starts wailing, and all the noise woke McGonagall."

"So we ran and hid, because she was coming. Harrison disappeared to Merlin-knows-where. And suddenly you—or someone who looked exactly like you—came out of an empty corridor, offering to take over for McGonagall in dealing with Peeves."

"The deal went something like, no more disturbances tonight and you can be part of our prank. And you—or your imposter—offered Peeves a box of fireworks to set off tonight after the feast."

"And then Peeves flew off, you—or your doppelganger—disappeared. Then Harrison reappeared and we finished the job."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "So Harry was missing the whole time I was supposedly negotiating with a poltergeist?"

"Er…yeah."

Suddenly all eyes turned to Harry. He shrugged. "Shouldn't we spread the fun around? Peeves is expecting his fireworks."

Everyone zeroed in on the box he was holding. "You know, I don't know how, but somehow Harry is responsible for this," James said finally.

"You'll be answering questions later," Remus warned. "You realize it's a punishable offense to impersonate a prefect?"

"Can we leave it for tonight? Breakfast is starting soon, and if we're not there the prank won't go off."

Four sets of eyes narrowed slightly (though Peter seemed more appraising than judgmental), then they each nodded. "Let's get this show on the road!" Sirius finally announced. And with that, the group headed downstairs for breakfast. There was a brief pause when Harry handed off the fireworks, once more making Peeves swear not to set them off until after dinner, then they continued on their way.

The Great Hall was decked out for Halloween, with orange and black everywhere. There were candles on the tables and hanging suspended in the air. The House banners were forgone in favor of orange and black ones. Pumpkins, most of them carved and with candles inside, were charmed to float high above the tables. Bigger pumpkins decorated the corners of the Great Hall, and little ones decorated the tables.

The five boys took their seats and began to serve themselves, waiting for the right moment. When the Hall was as full as it was going to get for a Sunday morning, they exchanged a look.

"Ready?" James asked.

"Ready," the others answered, grinning. Then they all five slipped their wands from their sleeves and whispered the activation spell.

Instantly, a third of the pumpkins hovering above the Hall exploded with a sound reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard. Black and orange confetti and small, wrapped sweets rained down on the students and conjured, live bats took to the air from the black confetti.

The moment the chaos started, Professor McGonagall shot to her feet, narrowed eyes sweeping the Great Hall for the culprits. But after the initial fear and surprise, and after realizing they weren't being harmed, most of the students were laughing and cheering in the holiday and gathering up the sweets that now littered the tables.

The next ten to fifteen minutes passed without incident, and the conjured bats began to disappear one by one. Then suddenly, all the confetti suddenly rose from the tables and floor and spun around in the air like a colorful tornado. Lime green and purple had joined the colors of the confetti, and once all the little scraps were in the air, they swirled into the words "Happy Halloween!" before exploding outward once more across the entire Hall.

Nearly everyone was laughing now, and with good-natured grumbling they spelled away the confetti in order to continue eating their breakfast.

"Well done, Marauders," James murmured, grinning widely. Sirius grinned back. Harry thought about asking if he was included under that title and where it came from, but he decided now wasn't the time. So he just smiled, appreciating the good humor of the situation, and laughed along.

Finally, breakfast ended and students began filing out of the Great Hall. They waited a few minutes, then the screams began. James, Harry, and Sirius exchanged a look and a grin, and then burst into laughter as a few students burst back into the Great Hall, exclaiming about the cursed suits of armor that followed them and jumped out at them when they least expected it. Through the open door, Harry also heard the tell-tale cackle of the resident poltergeist as he pelted students with water bombs, scaring them further.

"Shall we go, then?" James asked. The others nodded and the five boys stood and walked bravely through the corridors back toward Gryffindor tower. Groups of students were also making the trek. The younger students—mostly third year and below—were huddled in clumps, trying to avoid Peeves's water bombs and pretend the suits of armor that dogged their steps didn't bother them. The older students tried to walk more casually, but it was clear they were on edge, hands tight around their wands. And the Marauders weren't immune to it. The charms were random, which meant not even Harry, James, or Sirius knew when they'd jump out, or their armored helmets would turn eerily to watch them pass.

At lunchtime the prank went off again, the second third of all the pumpkins exploding once again into confetti. This time, they were accompanied by an eerie howl that echoed through the Hall, rising and falling for the entire two hours of the lunch period and putting a number of students on edge. But at the end, the black confetti spelled out "Happy Halloween" and exploded outward in a shower of colorful sparks, which cheered them.

It was amusing to watch the reactions as the day went on. Students were constantly looking over their shoulders and jumping at any unexpected movement, even from their friends. The occasional jinx was cast on instinct when a student was badly startled, but overall it was harmless fun. The teachers were just as much on edge, though most of them were trying to put a stop to Peeves's part in it, at least, and catch the culprits.

During the day, Harry was on the lookout for opportunities to get back at James, Sirius, and Peter for waking him so rudely that morning. And on the way to dinner, Harry found his opening. He turned Peter orange and black, then added an extra charm to two suits of armor, causing them to follow James and Sirius all the way down the corridor. When they spun around, looking for the source of the movement spotted out of the corner of their eyes, the armor suits would appear in perfectly normal spots along the wall. Then, when James and Sirius turned around again, the armor would resume following them.

This happened over and over again, the two boys growing increasingly nervous as their friends claimed absolute ignorance and Harry not-so-subtly hinted they might be imagining things. Finally, just outside the Great Hall and in the middle of the growing crowd heading to the feast, Harry suddenly turned around and shouted,

"BOO!"

James and Sirius screamed, the high-pitched sound echoing off the walls. Then their screams turned into sputtering and squeaking as Harry added an extra touch. The entire Entrance Hall burst into laughter as the two boys, red-faced, entered the Great Hall.

"You're dangerous," James observed in a low voice as they sat down.

"Fun, but dangerous," Sirius echoed, his cheeks still faintly pink. Remus and Peter were trying to contain their laughter.

"Don't bother," Harry told them. "It's all in good fun, right?" He may have been trying to make a point.

The feast laid out in the Great Hall was spectacular. All kinds of food were spread across the tables, and there were far more candles than there had been that morning—and that included the ones they'd made to explode into confetti before. Jack-o-lanterns hovered around the entire Hall, the flickering orange light from their candles providing the only illumination. It made for a very eerie effect, and ominous shadows chased each other over the walls. The waxing gibbous moon shone down from the charmed ceiling.

Subdued chatter filled the hall as the students filed in, an ominous whisper that swept across the open space like wind over dry leaves. And that was just the regular decorations. The five boys waited until the tension and expectation in the air was tangible, and then a little longer, before, in unison, they waved their wands and the entire hall exploded with sound.

The resulting sound was a cacophony of shrieking, cawing, howling, and rattling. Several people screamed. More confetti rained down, charmed to feel cold as it landed on the back of their necks. At almost the exact same moment, as they'd planned, all the ghosts in the castle (Peeves and his water bombs leading the charge) surged through the Hall. They were accompanied by a rush of wings, and hundreds of conjured bats soared into the Hall as well, some of them landing on people's heads. Frustrated and terrified shrieks echoed through the hall and added to the chaos.

The four Marauders and Harry were having a hard time keeping their laughter in check, even as goosebumps rose on their arms. Even they had not expected everything to turn out the way it had. Harry had even forgotten, in the wake of the excitement, why he dreaded this day.

"Potter! Black! Lupin! Pettigrew!" Professor McGonagall's furious voice cut through the cacophony of screams and howls, enhanced by the sonorous charm and even more frightening than the Halloween pranks.

The four named boys jumped and terrified looks spread across their faces. They exchanged a glance, contemplating making a run for it.

"Now, Minerva. They're only helping us get into the Halloween spirit." Dumbledore's voice, though no louder than normal, cut through the chaos with its jovial tone—out of place in the current setting.

"They've spread chaos through the castle! This is unacceptable!"

"Very impressive charm work, though," Flitwick's squeaky voice replied, his approval clear. Harry glanced at the teachers' table, and everyone but McGonagall and Filch were obviously trying to conceal their grins.

McGonagall ignored the diminutive professor and stomped toward the Gryffindor table. Harry heard James gulp, and Peter looked terrified. Remus was doing his best to hide his nerves. Sirius was, too. Covertly, Harry slipped his wand back up his sleeve and did his best to look innocent. From the barely concealed snort to his left where Tonks was sitting, he was sure he was failing.

The screams had faded and most of the Hall was now watching with rapt attention. The only sounds now were the rushing of the bat wings and the echoing but fading screeches that remained from the initial explosion.

"Messrs. Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew: What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Three of them exchanged a nervous look, but the other spoke, cool and calm, with a pleasant smile, "Happy Halloween, Professor McGonagall."

Harry choked; Sirius sprayed pumpkin juice all over James, and Peter squeaked and almost fell out of his seat. Professor McGonagall looked aghast.

"Mr. Lupin! I cannot believe—what you think—" She cleared her throat and resumed her normal tight-lipped expression. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr. Lupin, and all of you will serve a week's detention with me."

"But Professor—" James protested. Then he immediately shut his mouth when his voice came out like a squeak, his face coloring in embarrassment. Harry tried not to laugh. He'd unintentionally set the voice changing spell to come into effect when James's voice reached a certain register. And in his nervousness, it had reached that pitch once again. Covering his laughter, he removed the spell as McGonagall took five more points off Gryffindor for disrespect.

"No 'buts', Mr. Potter. The four of you will serve your first detention tomorrow immediately following the end of class. Be grateful I'm merciful because it's a holiday," McGonagall said firmly. The boys nodded quickly, not daring to protest.

Professor McGonagall then turned to Harry. "Mr. Carter, did you have any part in this?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Professor," Harry replied, surprising himself at how easily the lie came and how confident he sounded. "But I certainly enjoyed it. It really is some amazing spellwork, isn't it?"

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes, weighing Harry's words. Finally, she nodded. "Very well. But if I find out you've lied to me, you will serve twice the detention they will."

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied. "I'll try to keep them in line."

"See that you do," McGonagall said curtly, then she primly walked away, resuming her seat at the head table. Then Harry turned to face the gaping looks of disbelief from the other boys.

"How is that fair?" Sirius whined. "You lied and got out of detention!"

Harry shrugged. "I guess I'm just more trustworthy than you are," he said frankly, smiling a little.

"But why'd you have to throw us under the bus?" Peter asked, looking betrayed. But the hint of mirth in his eyes showed he wasn't truly mad. In awe, more like.

"Really?" Remus interjected. "I've denied involvement in a prank dozens of times and gotten away with it. This is hardly anything new. However," Remus said, turning to Harry, his eyes glinting, "that doesn't mean they let me get away with it."

"I can take whatever you throw at me," Harry declared. Then he pointedly spelled the confetti off his plate and resumed eating.

The rest of the meal passed peacefully (well, as peaceful as it could be with ghosts still hovering around and bats still landing on people's heads and in their food). The excitement began to mount again as the meal drew to an end, and the Marauders did not disappoint. Already condemned, they openly charmed the confetti to swirl around the hall once before spelling out, once again, "Happy Halloween!" The words continued to hover above the feast as the food disappeared. There was a loud scraping as everyone got to their feet. Just as the doors opened, the words exploded with a bang and a shower of sparks that vaguely resembled the bats that vanished as the confetti appeared.

However, the bangs continued after the confetti disappeared. Uneasy looks were exchanged as the students began to crowd into the hallway. Then the screams began, accompanied by further bangs and flashes of colored light. Hovering above the crowd, Peeves was cackling. He tossed a firework into the air, then nailed it with a water bomb. Water and sparks rained down on the student body, causing even more chaos.

James and the others exchanged a grin and Sirius pounded Harry on the back. "I don't know how you're responsible for this, but this is the best. Prank. Ever!"

"A prank worthy for the journal, no?" James said, grinning.

"Is it ever!" Peter agreed. Then they all turned to Remus.

Remus grinned. "I tip my hat to you, Harrison. This is the most spectacular prank I've been a part of. It's a pleasure working with you."

Harry grinned back. "Thanks, Moony," he replied with a touch of cheek. None of them even blinked at Harry's use of Remus's nickname.

"Of course, it would be even better if you hadn't somehow impersonated me to pull it off," Remus continued conversationally, a note of warning in his voice.

"Um, I'm just going to go clean up now. Because, you know, Peeves caught me with one of his water bombs," Harry said, backing away. "Later!" Then he took off running.

"Harrison!" Remus called after him. Harry ignored it and kept running, grinning widely. He was overreacting, but that was what made it fun.

A few minutes later, Harry arrived back at the tower. He all but collapsed against the wall, breathing hard. He'd run all the way from the Entrance Hall, barely pausing for even the moving staircases. After a few moments, when his breathing had evened out, Harry entered the common room. Many students who had already returned from dinner complimented him on the prank. They knew he had been involved in its planning, at least, as he and the other boys had spent days huddled around a piece of parchment and whispering. Harry graciously accepted the compliments but retreated up to the dorm as quickly as possible.

Still tired from his flight and expecting the others to arrive at any moment, Harry simply fell across his bed. Then he winced as his head hit something hard under his pillow. Absently Harry reached under it to pull out the offending object, and somehow ended up pushing it onto the floor. Slightly annoyed, Harry reached over his bed to pick it up—then he froze, staring again at the picture of his parents, smiling and waving, and his infant self, grinning at the camera.

His fingers trembled as he reached down to pick it up, and before he knew he, he was thumbing through the photo album picture by picture. His father and his friends at Hogwarts—looking nearly identical to the boys he knew now; his parents' wedding photos, starring the same boys, just slightly older; photos of first his father, then his mother holding his infant self, barely a few days old; a few more snapshots of Harry's one-year-old self, then that one picture of the three of them together, smiling, content, completely unaware that in just a few short months their happy family would be violently torn apart.

With the pictures came memories, ones Harry hadn't even realized he had. Memories of his mum singing him to sleep. Of playing with a large black dog that was achingly familiar. Of "unca mo-ey" and "unca pafoo" making faces at him while his dad laughed and teased them. Of a toddler-sized broomstick and a broken vase, then his mum fussing over him to make sure he was okay. And dozens more, sometimes with the other Marauders but always with at least one of his parents.

Unbidden, the memory of that Halloween night suddenly filled Harry's mind.

Colored smoke rings floated around him. He giggled happily as he grabbed for the funny stick that created them. But the tall, dark-haired man kept moving it away from him, a grin on his bespectacled face. A high, musical laugh came from nearby. The toddler looked toward the sound, and emerald green eyes smiled at him, sparkling with happiness and love.

"He needs to go to bed now, James."

"Ah, Lils! Just a few more minutes? He's having fun!"

The redhead rolled her eyes. "I think you're enjoying this more than he is."

James shrugged, yawning and leaning back against the couch. The toddler made a grab for the temporarily abandoned wand. Gold and green sparks flew out of the end of it before the young father snatched it away from him with a laugh.

"Not with mummy here; she'll tan my hide," he whispered conspiratorially. "All right, Lily, You win. Bedtime," James conceded in a normal voice. The redhead's expression turned teasingly triumphant as she lifted the little boy off the couch. "Good night, love," James said, leaning in for a kiss.

"Good night, you overgrown child," she responded affectionately.

James laughed and planted a sloppy kiss on the toddler's head. "G'night, Prongslet."

A noise. A knock. The mood changed instantly, from light to tense.

"It's Him! Lily, take Harry and go!"

"But—"

"Go! I'll hold him off!"

"James—"

Crash.

"I love you!"

"I love you, too," came the choked reply.

Thudding steps up the stairs. Shouts from below. The toddler began to cry, frightened and confused.

A low thud, a muffled sob. Being placed in his crib.

"Mummy and Daddy love you, Harry. Don't ever forget, Mummy loves you," came the soft but frantic whisper.

Another crash. Lily spun to face the threat. "Not Harry! Please, not Harry!"

"Step aside, you silly girl," said the red-eyed man. "It needn't end like this."

"No. Not Harry. Please, take me. Kill me instead!"

"Stand aside, girl!

"No! Kill me if you want, but, please, not Harry! Not my baby!"

"Very well. Avada Kedavra!"

A high-pitched, terrified scream. Another thud.

"Mummy?" the toddler asked, not understanding what he had just witnessed.

"Now for you, you little brat. Avada Kedavra!"

A high, cold, cruel laugh. A flash of blinding green light. Pain. Another scream, long, drawn-out, terrible. Then everything went black.

A tear dripped onto the photo, followed by another. Harry stubbornly wiped them away with his sleeve. But more tears just took their place. On the tail of that memory came others, all the people who had died right in front of him. Cedric. His godfather. Especially his godfather, his most recent loss. Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging the open leather-bound album to his chest with shaking hands. Whatever happiness he'd felt during the day was gone, completely and utterly. In its place was a gaping hole, the most profound grief Harry had ever felt. It was a terrible, awful feeling, discovering something he'd longed for his entire life, only to have it ripped away from him in an instant.

"—search the whole dorm, then. Again. You two are such slobs."

"Am not!" "Are not!"

"Then explain this—mess?" It turned into a question as the four boys noticed Harry. He sat against his headboard with the book from that morning held tightly against his chest. His head was bowed, his face in shadow. In the sudden silence, they could all hear his soft, hiccupping gasps as he fought to stay silent.

"Er…Harrison?" Sirius asked awkwardly, all playful humor gone.

"Harry? Are-are you oka—ow!" James rubbed the back of his head where Remus had cuffed him with unnecessary force.

"Of course he's not okay, you dumbass," Remus hissed. "Let's go." He grabbed James's collar and started to pull him toward the door again. James hardly even protested, only glanced over his shoulder with a concerned look on his face. Peter followed with a similar look. But Sirius stayed.

"Padfoot! Let's go," James hissed.

"I'm staying," Sirius said stubbornly.

"Why you?" James demanded. Remus yanked on his collar and Peter gave James a helpful push out the door.

"You didn't see him the other night," Sirius said firmly. "Come back in an hour or so." Then he shoved the door closed, pushing James out in the process.

While the others were arguing, Harry had been struggling desperately to regain his composure. He'd almost succeeded by the time the others had left. Then the mattress depressed next to him and there was a hand on his shoulder.

"I won't make you talk if you don't want to. Merlin knows not even James can make me talk if I don't want to. But…" Sirius cleared his throat awkwardly. "Whatever it is, I just…well, I wanted to make sure you know that…you're not alone."

Harry's breathing hitched and he barely held back the tears he'd only just managed to stop. "Thanks," he answered softly. He appreciated it, he really did. But he just couldn't get past how wrong it felt, to be mourning three people who weren't even dead, and have one of them trying to comfort him. He bit his lip, which was suddenly trembling, and turned his head away. Sirius's hand tightened on his shoulder and for a while there was silence.

"I know I said I wouldn't make you talk, but…I have to ask anyway. Blame my insatiable curiosity if you must. But—"

"I didn't know you knew words that big." The words slipped out before Harry could stop them, and the faintest of smiles touched his lips. It also helped that he'd conveniently derailed Sirius's question.

"Oy! I'm a very well-educated person!"

"Tell that to your table manners," Harry replied. He wiped his eyes and tried to smile.

Sirius pouted. "You're as bad as James," he grumbled. "Maybe you've been hanging around with us too much. We're corrupting you."

"I was already corrupted. I just hide it better."

"By who?" Sirius demanded.

"Well, considering who my parents—" Harry broke off suddenly, realizing what he'd been about to say. Were. Who his parents were. His throat constricted and his eyes stung. He blinked hard, averting his eyes so Sirius wouldn't see his tears.

There was a moment of silence, then Sirius's hand suddenly tightened again on Harry's shoulder. "They're dead. Aren't they?"

Harry nodded, no longer able to speak. His eyes were burning, his chest ached, and he couldn't breathe. He hugged himself tighter, the binding of the photo album he still held hard against his sternum.

"That's your dementor. The day they died."

Harry nodded again. Fresh tears suddenly slipped down his cheeks and he turned his head farther away, even though he knew there was no hope of Sirius not noticing.

Suddenly two strong arms wrapped around Harry's shoulders. Harry's breath caught in his throat, and then the tears began in earnest. Only years of practice at the Dursleys' kept him silent as grief overwhelmed him. It was all the more acute because of his (young) godfather's arms around him, while the memory of his older counterpart's shocked face disappearing through the veil played over and over again in his mind.

It felt like a very long time before the grief became bearable. Tonks had been right, Harry thought as he finally pulled out of Sirius's embrace. He hadn't really had a chance to mourn any of them. And that made it hurt all the worse. Almost like he hadn't cared enough to mourn before.

"Are you good now?" Sirius asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"I will be. Eventually," Harry replied just as quietly. "Don't—don't tell the others. Not yet, anyway." He wasn't sure he could stand it, telling his (young) father he was dead, and it was all the fault of the short boy sitting next to him, and because of a misunderstanding, the last one had been left all alone.

"I won't," Sirius vowed. "If you don't tell them my dementor."

Harry looked up in confusion and saw, for perhaps the first time, raw emotion on Sirius's face. Sirius smiled faintly and explained.

"You saw it. My boggart, I mean. You know my parents hate me. But…they didn't always. I know it's not the same, but for them…I might as well be dead. Sometimes I wonder if they'd prefer it that way." Sirius bowed his head, twisting his fingers around the cuffs of his robe.

"Sirius…" Harry trailed off, not knowing what to say. Sirius suddenly laughed, but without humor.

"Look at us, getting all teary and pathetic and emotional. What a pair we make, eh?" He looked at Harry and grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm going to bed. Night." Sirius hopped off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. "By the way," he added just before he shut the door, "your hair is Gryffindor red." Sirius grinned with a little more sincerity this time, then the door shut and the sound of running water filled the silence.

Harry stared at the closed door for a long minute, no longer sure he knew Sirius at all. Had never had a chance to know him, whispered the more negative part of his brain. And with that, Harry's grief returned, though not as potent. It settled in his chest like a heavy weight, and one that didn't seem inclined to lift any time soon. He tucked the photo album away in his wardrobe, deliberately not looking at it, then he lay down again on his bed, still fully dressed, and closed his eyes.