Hit Me

Hit Me

Hurt Pride

The sky opened up and let the rain come down.

Summer approached angrily, with dark days and short nights. The trees howled and swayed, the moon eclipsed, and the solstice came ever closer. As the school year drew to a close, so dawned the dark anniversary of Sirius's.... death.

It still seemed impossible to refer to Sirius as 'dead', to damn him with such finality. Only poor sagacious Remus and Professor Dumbledore could speak openly about Sirius, which seemed a bit ironic, as Sirius and Remus had been closer than most imagined.

But that was that. No one else dared approach the subject.

It was the weekend; a slow, dragging one; and all was quiet. The Gryffindors' spirits seemed as sodden as the rain-soaked ground outside. The Gryffindors led remarkably in the race for the house cup, not even Slytherin rivaled them in Quidditch since Harry had become captain, and the sixth years did not face any major exams.

Yet, happiness was sparse.

The great grandfather clock in the common room chimed twice, but the rain still fell. Lunch, which had been strangely bland for all of them, was long finished. Harry gazed around the shadowy room with distant eyes. Ron was tossing Pig owl treats, Hermione's nose was crouched two inches from a ridiculously long NEWT Charms essay, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team was clustered around the largest window, staring miserably outside.

The rain came down harder still.

Harry announced loudly that he was going flying. Ron pelted a treat at Pig, so surprised that it dinged right off the side of Pig's head. Hermione's quill came to an abrupt halt on the parchment, her eyes narrowing. The Team smiled fondly, but knew better than to ask to come with.. Still others glared at the egotistical Quidditch Captain; couldn't that Potter kid wait until it actually stopped pouring before he went and played Pretty Boy on his broom?

There was protest, but he pulled on a cloak and was gone.

By time his feet struck the muddy front lawn, thunder rumbled distantly, far off lightning illuminating the mountains. A rain repellant charm kept the sixteen-year-old dry, but the wind still raised gooseflesh on his arms. No other soul was quite daft enough to go traipsing about in the rain, so he was alone crossing the soggy grounds.

He passed the Whomping Willow, stoically still even in the fierce storm. Suddenly, he recalled the big black dog, with his jaws closed around Ron's leg. He remembered Ron screaming, how his face had gone paper white... Harry shook his head and trudged onward.

He reached the broom shed quickly after that, finding solace inside it's cramped walls. A carpet of dust sat upon every unused surface, and spiders threatened to hold a mutiny any day. Harry lit his wand, smiling as he found his Firebolt. The faint glow it radiated seemed to bring awful nostalgia with it, of receiving the broom, and flying it for the first time...The broom had given him countless victories and amazing highs, and he owed it all to Sirius.

Making sure the rain repellent was still at full strength, Harry mounted his broom a few steps outside the shed and kicked off right there. The angry wind pitched the broom up immediately, whipping Harry's shaggy mass of jet-black hair around his face. His glasses threatened to careen from his nose, the broom shook unsteadily beneath him, and his robes billow liked an ominous black flag... Yet he felt little.

The broom sliced the wind, rocketing forward as Harry's lithe frame crouched down over it.

It felt so surreal.

Rain fell in huge droplets around him as he finally descended a little over the Quidditch pitch. Where was the dog, once so frightening, that had once sat in those stands and watched him fly?

Whenever it rained, Harry thought about him. Every time his fingers touched the Firebolt's shaft, when he soared of for the snitch, whenever the wind stung his skin, his thoughts raced back to Sirius..

Jagged lightning tore the sky as Harry hovered motionless above the vast turf pitch, thunder screaming its presence, deafening in Harry's ears.

Harry raised jade eyes to a sky that was black.

Watching the lightning, he murmured, "So hit me."

- fin -