To Hope for Anything

To Hope for Anything

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Fight for Love

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3 Months

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"Harry? Remus?" Sirius called out as soon as he stepped into the Grimmauld Place. Despite owning the house, he hadn't spent much time there in the past three months, except to occasionally visit Harry and Remus, who were nowadays residing in the ancient home of Blacks. Sirius had more than enough worries with Severus, so he didn't have time to even visit very often.

Now, however, there was no reply. Frowning slightly -- something was surely wrong -- Sirius walked further into the house.

As he went by, he gave a sideways glance at the place where his mother's portrait had once been. It'd taken the full efforts of three adult men and five hours, but at last they'd managed to tear her off the wall. And all the time, she'd been screaming -- loudly.

Finally Sirius found Harry. The scene he saw, however, was not anything he'd expected. Harry sat in the kitchen, his head resting on his folded arms. Crying.

"What's the matter, Harry?" he asked worriedly. His godson had grown a hard cover during the War -- not as hard as Severus's, thankfully, but hard enough -- so if he was broken down like this, it had to be something serious.

"Remus," sobbed the young Auror-to-be. "He's not eating properly!"

"What do you mean?" asked Sirius, instantly alarmed. It was bad enough that he had to fight with Severus for every mouthful of food the Slytherin ate. If it became the same with Remus, too... Especially with the werewolf being even weaker after every full moon. Hell, he was almost transparent nowadays!

"He skips meals," told Harry tearfully, "and when he eats, he eats only a little. He's becoming so thin, Sirius, so frighteningly thin, and... I'm worried, Sirius. I'm so fucking worried that he will starve himself to death, and I just feel so helpless! I'd want to simply tie him down on a chair and forcefeed him until he looks like a normal person again, but how could I force him to anything when he still cannot bear a simple hug from me?"

"Welcome to my world, Harry," sighed the older Animagus. "Not that Severus was afraid of my touch, of course -- thank Merlin for at least that -- but I, too, feel really helpless."

"Does it feel the same way to you?" asked Harry quietly. "Do you also feel like you would do anything just to see him bring the fork into his mouth? Like you would gladly put your own heart on a plate if that made him eat?"

"Yes, I do, and it is just horrible," whispered Sirius in response. "I'm used to seeing Severus always sure and self-confident, always so controlled. And now... Now he's a mere shell of what he used to be. He needs all his willpower to chew and swallow a mouthful of food. All those years of facing Voldemort and surviving could just as well have never been when he cries because he knows he has and needs to eat, but doesn't want to. Not a trace of the usual intelligent and sensible Severus can be seen when he accuses me of lying about the necessity of eating and trying to make him fat so nobody else would want him!"

Harry just nodded silently in agreement, not making a sound. So, Sirius went on.

"I don't really know him anymore, and yet he's so painfully... he. Whatever I try to say, he always has two disagreements ready -- and yet I know that in the inside, he agrees with me, that it's just the disorder in him talking with his mouth. And that hurts me even more, because I know he cannot disagree with it. Hell, we went past a lifetime of grudges to get together, and now we fight over a plate of oatmeal and whether or not he has to eat it all, or just three spoonfuls. It's like fighting with a two-year-old child -- expect that any two-year-old child would eat if they were hungry, and Severus wouldn't!"

"Yeah," agreed Harry quietly. "I hadn't even realized until now what they mean when they say that anorexia is a disorder of intelligent people. There's no doubt about whether I'm right when tell Remus he has to eat, but he still manages to make me feel like it was I who has a problem and should be helped, not him."

"That's the most devilish twist of it," Sirius admitted gloomily. "You wouldn't think they can make you regret trying to save their life, would you?"

"Please, don't talk like that," begged Harry. "It's hard enough to know that every transformation takes more and more strength from him. I do not need any reminders about the fact that the anorexia, if it hits on full force again, might kill him even more easily!"

"But it's the truth," sighed the older wizard. "And we must accept it." Then, with a flash of fierce determination in his eyes, he added, "But not without a fight."

"Yeah," agreed Harry, an equal determination in his voice. "Fight to the last forkful."