The Man Who Knew Almost Nothing

Chapter Eleven

Meeting Sirius Black

Morning came and they showered and dressed separately. Gilderoy had become suddenly reclusive, and Harry was caught in the dilemma of to intrude or not to intrude. He cooked breakfast in silence while Gilderoy flipped through a first year charms book that they had purchased a few days earlier. Harry watched him silently sound out spell words with a knitted brow. He had promised Gilderoy lessons. Would he be up for them?

Harry had been cooking for himself for months, since he had left Hogwarts and moved into the Little Burrow, and he had learned the fine art of preparing comfort food, which for him included chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, kippers, and strawberry milkshakes. He hoped that Gilderoy would understand the gesture.

“I always make this when I’m feeling a bit depressed,” Harry told him as he looked at the pancakes with an odd expression on his face.

“It looks wonderful,” said Gilderoy with a teary smile, putting his text book aside.

“Thanks,” said Harry, forking a couple of pieces of bacon onto his plate for him.

“Harry?” he questioned. “Is everything ... I mean, you’re not angry or anything? Or disappointed ... with me ... about last night?” Gilderoy asked anxiously.

“Not angry, not disappointed. I swear,” said Harry firmly. “And you? Are you feeling okay now?”

“I think I’m all right. Or rather ... I think I will be. I just don’t know when,” said Gilderoy. Harry waited for him to elaborate, to explain his dreams perhaps, but Gilderoy did not do so.

“I sent Hedwig out with a letter last night,” Harry admitted after a few minutes of quiet eating. “I figured I needed some advice,” he added. He was telling Gilderoy in order to avoid any surprises, such as a worried Sirius arriving by floo.

“I think I can understand that,” said Gilderoy, his lips twitching involuntarily into an amused smile. “You are very young to have so much ... responsibility, are you not?”

“I suppose so,” Harry agreed.

“So did you send Hedwig to Hermione and her husband?” he questioned.

“No, I didn’t think they would be able to help. They are the same age as I am, after all.”

“Who then?”

“Sirius.”

“Really? How exciting!” said Gilderoy, the last of the anxiety and emotional pallor falling away. Harry merely looked at him with a slightly bewildered expression. “Will I have the opportunity to meet him?” he asked.

“He doesn’t leave London, or his apartment actually, for just any reason ... But I think that maybe he will for this,” said Harry, wincing as he thought about the panicked letter he had sent. In the light of day, looking into Gilderoy’s eyes, which were no longer clouded by fear or shame, the situation seemed far less desperate.

Gilderoy practically beamed before taking another bite of his breakfast.

“But we still have time for magic lessons, right?” he questioned.

“Chew then talk, Gilderoy. And, yes, of course we do,” answered Harry.

Harry couldn’t help but to think about the cracked window in their bedroom while they finished breakfast. He would not have believed that Gilderoy was magical enough to do such obvious damage with wandless magic, even in his frightened and dreaming state. It had surprised him. After all, Gilderoy was practically a squib, wasn’t he? He had never seen Gilderoy, during his time as a professor, perform magic that worked properly, not even once. Harry had to wonder Gilderoy would possibly have been a normal wizard if his parents had not been killed. Harry was thankful that he had been too young or too lucky to be so terribly traumatized by the attack on his parents and himself. Gilderoy, having lost that memory and possibly the trauma the went along with it, had perhaps gained the full use of his own magic again. If that proved to be true, it would be nothing short of a miracle.

After breakfast was concluded, Harry read over the spells that Gilderoy had been trying to learn, which included a candle lighting charm and a warming charm. Harry winced for a moment as he realized that both choices could easily lend themselves to lighting things on fire. Gilderoy and fire had already proved to be a dangerous combination when dealing with the range. Skimming a few pages ahead, Harry found the levitation charm that he had learned as a first year and decided to begin with that.

He found a few old quills, to replace the feathers that were suggested by the textbook, in a desk drawer and set them on the coffee table. Gilderoy was seated on the couch already with an excited and mildly idiotic grin on his face as he held his wand.

“Right,” said Harry, sighing and forcing himself not to imagine how this could go wrong. “I thought we should begin with the same charm that I began with.” Harry told him.

“Splendid!” nodded Gilderoy, taking a firm grip on his wand.

Harry was relieved to see that his hand still remembered how to hold the instrument.

“Do this,” said Harry, remembering Professor Flitwick teaching him to swish-and-flick. He demonstrated the motion and nodded for Gilderoy to try it.

“Like this?” asked Gilderoy, whipping his wand through the air.

“Gently,” Harry instructed.

His second attempt was somewhat better, the motion more fluid and graceful. Harry smiled approvingly.

“Better?” Gilderoy questioned.

“Much. Now watch and listen while I perform the levitation charm,” said Harry. “Wingardium Leviosa!” he cast, making the appropriate motion with his wand. One of the quills rose from the coffee table and hung suspended in midair.

“How incredible!” said Gilderoy.

“Now it’s your turn,” said Harry, allowing his quill to drift back to the coffee table.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” The quills remained exactly where they were. Gilderoy looked at Harry and left the couch. “Maybe if I stood up too,” he said sheepishly.

“Give it another go,” said Harry, suddenly doubting his qualification to teach Gilderoy magic.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” said Gilderoy very forcefully. The quill rose from the coffee table and floated about head high. He grinned. “I can’t believe it, Harry! I’ve actually done magic,” he said.

“You certainly have! I knew you had it in you all along, Gilderoy. Of course, this is just the simple stuff, but I’ll bet that you could be a great wizard someday if you applied yourself,” said Harry.

A sudden popping sound behind Harry, the sound of someone apparating, caused Gilderoy to shriek and suddenly point his wand at the individual. His levitated quill, following the motion of his wand, flew toward the person, a thin and slightly shabbily dressed wizard with dark hair, like a dart. The wizard dodged it and pulled his wand from within his robes. He held it defensively, but his eyes gleamed as though he were ready for anything. Harry immediately stepped between them.

“Guys?” he questioned.

“Looks like you got yourself a lively one for a change,” said Sirius Black, slowly lowering his wand.

“I guess you could call him that, Sirius,” Harry chuckled.

“This is your godfather?” Gilderoy questioned, lowering his wand as well.

“Gilderoy Lockhart, meet Sirius Black,” said Harry, stepping out of the way once he was sure that some sort of impromptu duel was not going to take place. Gilderoy had been badly surprised by the sudden appearance of a strange man in the sitting room. His nerves had been on edge anyway.

They looked at each other appraisingly.

To Gilderoy, Sirius looked to be something of a good-for-nothing. There was something about him, other than his patched and frayed clothes, that made him uneasy. The hungry look in his keen eyes perhaps. Or the surliness of his facial expression. He didn’t look like a pleasant man at all.

On the other hand, Sirius saw nothing more than an ornamental bird, a pet peacock, when he looked at Gilderoy with his brightly colored clothes and perfectly combed blond hair. And he looked a little dimwitted and chicken-hearted to boot. Not a nice picture at all, physical beauty aside.

“Charmed,” Gilderoy managed.

“I’m sure,” said Sirius.

The tension was thick enough that even Gilderoy felt it to be quite oppressive. He coughed and tucked his wand away.

“Harry has told me all about you and, well, you aren’t exactly what I expected, but then first impressions ... they can be misleading, yes? I know Harry thinks the world of you and ...” said Gilderoy, pursing his lips slightly. “I would like the opportunity to get to know you,” he said.

“Harry hasn’t told me much about you, but I dare say that you have reflexes like a cat,” said Sirius, pausing and grinning. “But I won’t hold that against you, I suppose. If Harry says he loves you, then I guess I can tolerate you ... for now.”

“Guys, play nice,” said Harry in a warning tone. “This wasn’t exactly how I wanted the two of you to meet, but what’s done is done.”

“Next time I will apparate outside. And in my opinion, this place could do with some wards. And, yes, I know that these are days of peace and all, no small thanks to you, Harry, but I would like to know that you’re protected by more than mere wood and stone,” said Sirius.

Harry laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, “This from a man who once rode a flying motorbike! As always, I will give it some thought.”

“And do nothing,” Sirius snorted.

“Oh, do have a seat, Sirius, if you’re going to go on about the state of the Little Burrow,” said Harry, steering him toward a chair and motioning for Gilderoy to join him on the couch.

“I should think you would be out practicing on a fine morning like this instead of hanging about indoors,” said Sirius.

Harry laughed and said, “I probably should be, but I think I will be put through my paces sufficiently when I practice with the team in a few weeks. Missing a few mornings won’t matter in the long run.”

“It was that very attitude that kept James off the national team.”

“Funny. I thought it was my mother and the Ministry of Magic.”

Sirius held up a hand and smiled softly, “Enough, you proved a long time ago that you could hold your own in an argument. You win.”

“Thank you, Sirius,” chuckled Harry. “So how is life in London?”

“The same as it’s always been. Remus visits as often as his job at Hogwarts allows. Would you believe that he invited me to live with him? Share his little room under the tower?” Sirius laughed softly. “I am much in demand these days, it seems.”

“And you said?”

“The timing ... I had to refuse. I doesn’t feel right ... yet,” said Sirius, shaking his head. He looked much older than his years.

“Sirius, I don’t doubt that Remus would wait forever for you. But really, should he have to ... if you really love each other?”

Sirius looked at Gilderoy and then at Harry before managing another smile as he answered, “I want to get it right this time, Harry. I imagine you know what I mean. Sometimes the time and the place are wrong even if the person winds up being right.”

“Point taken,” said Harry, knowing better than to intrude too deeply into such matters.

“And what about living here then?” asked Gilderoy. “Harry really does want you to, you know.”

“Did you tell him everything, Harry?” Sirius asked uncomfortably.

“I believe so,” he replied.

“No wonder he looks at me like I’m a low-life and a scoundrel.”

“I ...” Gilderoy began to object.

“Gilderoy, Sirius and I need a few moments in private to talk,” said Harry, taking his hand and squeezing it. “Would you mind terribly?” he asked.

“I think I could use some air,” said Gilderoy with a very understanding look in his eyes. They kissed as Gilderoy left the couch and made his way toward the door.

“Ugh! Love birds! It’s so disgusting to see other men in love,” commented Sirius as the door closed behind Gilderoy.

“Jealous?”

“Of that popinjay? Certainly not,” laughed Sirius, joining Harry on the couch.

“We have been gloriously happy these few days ...”

“Days? Not even weeks yet?”

“That thing you said about timing.”

“Yeah.”

“Completely true. Ours must have been perfect.”

“Or you’re still in that new relationship euphoria.”

Harry frowned and said, “I never thought of that. Do you really think that’s it?”

“No, I believe you deserve a chance at happiness and if this is it, then this is it, Harry,” said Sirius, removing a wadded up piece of paper from his pocket. “Your message ...” he explained.

“I didn’t mean to scare ...” Harry began to say.

“Of course not. And I am unbelievably honored that you thought of me first. Even after I ... let you down,” said Sirius.

“We’re not on that again, are we? The war is over! You can go home!” said Harry, trying to add some levity to the situation.

“Can I, Harry? Can I really?” he asked, twisting side ways on the couch and pulling one leg beneath him. He rested on arm on the back of the couch and gently lifted Harry’s chin with his free hand. His eyes were sad. “I made it to the scene of the duel, that little hill over looking the forest and the castle in the distance ... after the battle, but long before the Aurors came, a while even before Dumbledore and Snape. Do you remember, Harry?” he questioned.

Harry shook his head and Sirius continued, “Of course not. You were half mad from the curses, the blood, the pain, the end of it all. Seventeen years old,” Sirius brushed back Harry’s messy black hair. “Thought you were going to die. Couldn’t understand a word you were saying at first. You wouldn’t let go of your wand. Couldn’t even pry it from your hand or else I would have ... I don’t know. Taken you somewhere. Signaled for help. You don’t remember it, but I guess that’s a blessing. You know what you said to me, Harry? ‘Why wasn’t there anyone to help me? Why did I have to go it alone?’ I still can’t answer that question. And I still feel as though I was partly to blame.”

“You don’t ...” Harry began.

“Hush. I do have to feel responsible. James trusted me to be your guardian, but more than that. I should have been your protector. You faced evil, you faced Voldemort, alone so many times, and shouldn’t have had to do it. I should have been there,” Sirius told him. “And the one time I thought I had made it ... I was too late to do any good. I know you beat him and you beat him good, Harry, but the burden shouldn’t have been yours alone, no matter what anyone says. A seventeen-year-old boy should never have had to bleed for the whole wizarding world.”

It was the first time that Sirius had told him the whole story of the events following the demise of Voldemort, or at least the parts that he couldn’t remember.

“You know I never expected you to do anything more for me than you did. When I was young, when I first found out that I had a godfather, you gave me hope. And when I was older, your letters gave me strength. And I know all too well how much you blame yourself for. Too much, Sirius,” said Harry. “In so much as you feel guilty or responsible for things that happened in my life, I forgive you, even though there really isn’t anything to forgive.”

“I know you do, Harry, and I’m glad,” said Sirius, giving his shoulder a squeeze. He managed a smile. “You always know exactly what to say to make an old man feel better.” Taking a deep breath, he added, “Maybe someday I can be as forgiving of myself.”

“No time like the present.”

“Right ...” he chuckled. “Now, don’t you think it’s about time you told me about your new sweetheart?”

“He woke up screaming last night. It was a while before I could get him calmed down. Cracked a window ... magically. I wasn’t expecting it,” said Harry.

“No, I don’t suppose you were. What happened to him to cause this?”

“Gilderoy lost his memory six years ago and was in the hospital ever since. I imagine you’ve heard the story, right?” Harry questioned. Sirius nodded that he had. “Gilderoy was ... abused in the hospital,” said Harry, taking a deep breath as he finally came out and said it. Sirius rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

“I can’t say that I necessarily approve of your choice in lovers, Harry, especially after the things I have heard about the bloke, but you couldn’t have done a kinder thing than springing him and bringing him here. Still, you want to be careful. I don’t need to emphasize what a rough time he must have had and is probably still having even if you only notice it when he’s screaming.”

“I notice, Sirius,” Harry objected.

“Harry, one of the reasons you asked for my advice is because of Remus, right?” he questioned. Harry nodded. “Then let me tell you what I learned from loving someone in pain. You can kiss him to stop him from screaming. You can give him things to occupy his mind. But that only goes so far. Not nearly far enough. You have to be patient. You have to listen. And time, Harry, you have to give him time to adjust, to heal, to move on,” Sirius told him. “I was never quite able to give Remus that. Before Azkaban I was too young, inexperienced, and immature. Afterward I was too hurt myself to understand someone else’s pain, and I had other things to worry about too. You are very lucky, Harry, to have the follies of youth behind you and a lot of pain as well. Draw from your own pain to understand his better. Goodness knows it ought to be good for something,” said Sirius.

“You are a wise man, Sirius Black. I only hope I can follow your advice,” said Harry.

“Oh, go on! I’m not wise, just experienced,” Sirius laughed, the years suddenly seeming lighter upon him as he laughed.

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