To Hope for Happiness

To Hope for Happiness

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Find Your Place

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- 2 Weeks, Part II

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Sirius opened the door and stepped aside to allow Harry a clear view. "Well, do you like it?" he asked with a goofy grin.

Harry stared at the room. Sure, he had had a room to call his own at the Dursley's, but it had never been really his. This room, however, was. And it was simply amazing.

The walls were a cool, pale blue. There were tiny, glittering Golden Snitches painted on the wall, and they moved around the walls, and in the middle of the Snitches there were pictures of famous Seekers adorning the walls. The roof and the floor where the same blue colour, expect that instead of Snitches, there were slowly moving clouds on them. The furniture -- a wardrobe, a desk with a chair, an armchair, and a fourposter bed -- were also all the same blue, as well as the carpet and the curtains in the window that showed only clear sky -- they were on the third floor. All in all, Harry felt like he was flying in the air as soon as he stepped into the room.

"It's magically altered paint," said Remus calmly. "Both the sky and the clouds will change colour and the clouds amount to match the time of the day and the current weather, and at night, there will be stars all over. Sirius left the place over your bed free of any pictures so you can hang the poster of your favourite Quidditch team there."

"Give the poor boy a break, Moony," laughed Sirius. "Or at least wait until he's got his breath going again."

"This is amazing," Harry managed to say at last. "How on Earth did you manage to do this in -- exactly how long time ago were you cleared, Sirius?" he then asked.

"Yesterday morning," his Godfather replied. "We immediately started preparing your room -- Moony'd already been officially living here, and I was hiding here with him, so the house didn't need much cleaning. Of course, if we had known how you were treated by those Muggles, we would have got you here immediately without wasting time," he then said with a mighty frown.

"It doesn't matter, really," Harry said flatly. "It's not like I wasn't pretty used to it."

"You shouldn't be," said Remus sternly. "Nobody should be used to that kind of a life -- nobody." Something in his tone and expression told Harry that he knew it from his own experience. "How long has this been going on?"

"Well, they pretty much stopped when my Hogwarts letter came," said Harry quietly, not really wanting to talk about the abuse he'd suffered with the Dursleys. He was in his new home now, why couldn't they concentrate on happier things? "It was bearable for my first two years at Hogwarts. The summer between my third and fourth year, they left me to peace almost completely -- and then, after my fourth year, it has been going worse all the time."

"How long have they been... beating you?" questioned Remus further, raising a hand to touch gently Harry's bruised face. Harry suppressed the urge to flinch away from the touch and forced himself to stay still.

"Regularly only this and the last summer," replied Harry with an even quieter tone. "Before my third year, and between the fourth and the fifth, a blow every now and then."

"Those Muggles are going to pay, and dearly," muttered Sirius threateningly. He then eyed disapprovingly Harry's clothes. "At first, you should get showered and changed," he said. "The bathroom is over there." The Animagus pointed at a door Harry hadn't before even noticed in the middle of the Snitches and Seekers. "We got you some clothes -- rather hastily, I admit, but we were in hurry to get everything ready for you -- although I do think we have to shrink them a bit, you are even thinner than the last time I saw you." There was an unmistakable sad tone in his voice as he said this.

"And after getting yourself clean and in new clothes," continued Remus, "you will come to the kitchen, and we'll get you fed properly. I bet you haven't eaten a proper meal since the feast at Hogwarts, have you?"

"No, I haven't," Harry admitted, feeling a bit ashamed. He'd tried so hard not to let anybody know, since he didn't want anybody to know just how weak he was. Especially he didn't want Sirius and Remus to know, they were already worrying too much about him. And now they'd both seen him on almost his worst and asked questions he couldn't answer untruthfully, since he didn't want to lie to his Godfather and the said Godfather's lover.

"It's not your fault, Harry," said Remus then quietly. "It's only those bastards' fault for treating you badly." Faking a cheerful tone, the werewolf then added, "Now, go and get showered! We'll go to the kitchen and have the house-elves make you something to eat."

So, not wanting to disappoint his new guardians, Harry did like he was told. It felt really good to have a long, hot shower and clean all dried blood and dirt from his skin. Somehow, he felt like he was washing the Dursleys off himself, too. And it was definitely not a bad feeling. Not a bad feeling at all.

At last he got himself dressed in the Gryffindor red trousers and a sweater he found from the wardrobe -- they truly were too large for him, but warm and pretty comfortable -- and slowly started to make his way towards the kitchen, which he'd been shown before his room.

Remus and Sirius were there already. And truly, there was a large plate full of delicious-smelling stew waiting for him, accompanied by a couple of slices of bread and a large glass of pumpkin juice. Harry, who hadn't realized until now just how hungry he was, started to greedily eat his food.

After some time, however, he started to feel uncomfortable, and slowed down remarkably. Sirius noticed this, of course, having watched him all the time. Without saying a word, he took the plate away from his Godson, which caused Harry to give him a confused look.

"If you've been too badly underfed for a long time, it'd be better if you didn't eat too much on your first proper meal," Remus told gently. He reached out to place a hand on Harry's shoulder.

It hurt. The boy winced, hoping that his discomfort would go by unnoticed.

The werewolf did not approve his reaction, however. Instantly drawing his wand, Remus said sharply, "Accio healing salve!" In an instant, a pale blue pot flew to his extended hand. "Now, take your shirt off," he commanded strictly. "There's no way you can make me believe that you only have bruises on your face."

Harry hesitated at first, not wanting to reveal his body. Then, however, encouraged by Remus's stern gaze and Sirius's concerned eyes, he slowly pulled off the sweater. As he did so, sharp gasps escaped the lips of his both guardians.

"Take your trousers off as well," commanded Remus mercilessly. "I'll be damned if a child under my custody walks around black and blue without me trying to help it."

So, Harry slowly stripped down to his boxers. Then he wrapped his arms around himself to protect his abused body not only from the cold air but also from the sharp eyes directed at him.

"Don't be ashamed, Harry," sighed Remus then. "It's not your fault. None of it is." With saying this, the werewolf started to spread the healing salve from the pot to his damaged skin. At first, Harry got a cold, tingling feeling wherever the salve touched his skin, but then it went over, and warmth started to trickle all around his freezing body.

At last, Remus seemed to be satisfied with his work. As Harry risked a glance downwards, he noticed that all the bruises had truly disappeared. He didn't feel quite as pained anymore, either.

"Here," Sirius said, handing him the clothes. "I shrank them a bit to make them fit you better." With a frown, he added, "Those Dursleys are going to pay. Pay very dearly indeed."

In lack of better response, Harry just nodded mutely. Then he again pulled the clothes on, amazed how he didn't feel as cold as before. This was truly a miracle, considering that he'd been freezing for more time than he could even remember.

"You shouldn't walk around barefooted," said Remus then strictly, but now Sirius raised a hand to interrupt before he got any longer.

"Now, I do think Harry's been ordered around enough for a while," he said with his most charming grin. "Let's go to the sitting room so talk a bit, OK?"

They both accepted this, Remus and Harry. Harry followed the adult wizards to the sitting room. There he settled on a soft armchair while his new guardians got seated side by side on a couch. He also saw how Remus's fingers slowly got intertwined with Sirius's.

This more or less public sign of affection made him blurt out the thing he'd wanted to ask from someone for a long time, but hadn't either dared to or known how to. "Are there any... erm... prejudices in the Wizarding World? Against gays, I mean?"

Sirius and Remus exchanged a brief glance. Then Sirius smirked a bit, settling more comfortably against the back of the couch. "Well, Harry, have you ever heard of soulmates?" he asked then.

"Soulmates?" echoed the boy. "Let me think... I remember Lavender Brown telling something about them last year, when she got engaged to that seventh-year guy. I didn't listen to her much, however, and the little I heard went absolutely beyond me."

Remus frowned in disapprovance. "You should listen when people give you information," he said. "That information might become useful later."

Chuckling, Sirius nudged his lover on the side. "Aww, relax a bit, Moony," he advised. "Anyway," he then said, turning as near serious as he could and looking again at Harry, "it's a thing Purebloods are usually taught at home. Muggleborns find out on their seventh year. As you are in essence a Pureblood, however, and as we are your guardians, I think we should educate you a bit in this matter."

"Every wizard and witch has a different kind of a soul," said Remus seriously. "In most cases, these souls are divided into two bodies that are born during a short time and live relatively near to each other. When one of them hits seventeen, there's a special potion that can be used to help them find each other. Soulmates share a deep love unlike anything Muggles can achieve - even the deepest of their love is just a shadow of what soulmates have. Some say that it's random, that it can be anyone, but it's not so. No matter what your flaws are, the other part of your soul fills them. No matter what your strengths are, they are perfect to strengthen the other counterpart. Your soulmate is your missing piece, he or she perfects the soul in you, and you do the same to him or her. No matter how different you maybe seem, no matter how deep is the hatred before it, you always fall in love. There's a natural ability to love one's soulmate installed in every wizard or witch, and nothing can change that fact - not past experiences or feelings, not old grudges, nothing. You cannot help it, the decision is made for you."

"Not everyone has simply one soulmate, however," Sirius picked up the explanation. "Some have their soul divided into three different bodies. While two parts of this kind of a soul can feel a love deeper than anything together, they'll never be exactly complete without the last part. And just as well, some are complete. They need nobody in their life, they don't crave for love. They have just one soul, inside themselves, and don't feel any need to seek a partner. Sometimes these complete ones form couples either among themselves or with other people who have lost their partners - or, sometimes, Muggles, which is the most usual reason for Halfbloods being born. They can feel love, true, but nothing past what Muggles feel, because there's no soulbond between them and their mate."

"And, if you are with your soulmate, the relationship cannot be wrong," finished Remus. "No matter if you are the same or the different gender, age, social class, or race -- your love is always allowed and appropriate."

"So... You are soulmates, right?" asked Harry, his head spinning in the overflow of information.

"Exactly." Sirius took Remus's hand in his own, and they again exchanged warm smiles.

"What about my parents, then?" continued Harry asking. "Were they soulmates, too?"

For a moment, both Sirius and Remus looked a bit sad for a reason he couldn't understand. Then Remus said with a soft smile, "Your parents... they shared a very deep and strong bond, Harry. A very strong bond."

The bespectacled boy suspected that there was more to that than just what was said, but decided to let it be. He could ask more later.