- Rating:
- R
- House:
- Astronomy Tower
- Characters:
- Harry Potter Sirius Black
- Genres:
- Romance Slash
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
- Stats:
-
Published: 09/01/2003Updated: 09/01/2003Words: 4,474Chapters: 1Hits: 521
- Posted:
- 09/01/2003
- Hits:
- 521
- Author's Note:
- I wrote this fic for a friend of mine, as repayment for a favor. She requested Harry/Sirius and this is what came out when I sat down to write it. Many thanks to Jen and Clio for the beta. If you like this, check out my other fics at
Dear Sirius,
It's nighttime now, and things are quiet, so I thought I'd write to you. It's not at all what I expected out here. I thought it'd be constant fighting but really, nothing much has happened. We spend a lot of time walking, and the going is slow. If you apparatethen you leave a magical signature that can be detected. So we walk. It's called "humping it". It's hot and you get tired and your mind kind of wanders off to another place. I think of you a lot, and I think of Remus, and Ron, and school. I even think of Snape and Malfoynow and then. I haven't walked point yet--they think I'm too new at this--so I stay in the back. I do take guard duty every night, and that's really boring. Your imagination starts taking over. I almost woke Wood up the other night because I swore that I saw three figures crouched down, just waiting to attack us, but then I realized they were shrubs. So I guess I am still green.
Anyway, I'd better get some sleep. The ground is hard but if you're tired enough, you can sleep anywhere. We can't cast any charms, even cushioning ones, in case the magical signature is detected.
I'm fine, Sirius. Really.
Harry
*****
When I am missing him, I pull out his old letters and read them. It helps me feel close to him. I can't imagine what things are like for him, but his letters are a little piece of him. Something tangible for me to touch and breach the distance.
Sometimes it even works.
Remus is asleep. I couldn't sleep so I wandered down here and poured myself a drink and watched the stars. Harry loved to look at the stars. He'd spend hours outside, lying on his back and staring up at them. I don't know what he saw there. He never would say. He kept so many things to himself.
I get up and pour myself another drink. Holding his letters close, I imagine that I can almost smell him. I can close my eyes and pretend he's sitting beside me, grinning at me. That grin that few ever saw.
*****
Dear Sirius,
Well, I finally got in my first battle. It was... not what I expected. We were walking along, and then I heard a shout, and Wood ran past me, and then the air was full of hexes and curses. All of us hit the ground, trying to see the direction that they came from. I tensed up (now I know what "pucker factor" means) but then... I don't know. Something else inside me took over. I was cool and calm and it became a very simple thing: him versus me. The survival instinct is very strong. Everything was clear and sharp and things seemed to move in slow motion. I cast curses, carefully aiming them, and then it was all over.
So war is pretty much 99% boredom and 1% absolute terror. And you don't realize how scared you are until it's all over and you're stripping the bodies and your hands won't stop shaking and your breath comes in little hitches and you have to sit down for a minute and realize what just happened. Wood got hurt but not badly. The mediwizard with the group (do you remember Dean Thomas? He's our medic and he's really good and tells the best jokes) patched him up. I skinned my knee but I don't think that counts as being injured in battle.
Love, Harry
*****
I remember the first time I saw him. He was so tiny, all legs and arms and black hair. But he was alert, and aware, and he clutched my finger with surprising strength. Lily and James were so proud of him. I held him, watching him, and I wondered if I'd ever have a son of my own. Harry was the closest I got. Then... things happened, and I went to Azkaban, and when I saw Harry next, he was a boy, with his mother's eyes and his father's hair and something that was uniquely his. I wanted to take him home. I wanted to show him what a real home feels like, but Peter took care of that quite nicely, thank you. Peter took a lot of things away from me, but the one thing I can't forgive him for is the time I lost with Harry. Remus says I'm bitter. He's right.
*****
Dear Sirius,
It's taken me all day to write this letter. I keep getting interrupted. I had a hell of a day yesterday and I want to put it down on paper before other memories eclipse it.
I was walking point and we came across four small cottages in a clearing. I gestured to MacDougal and Wood and we crept forward. The rest of the guys flanked the houses to cover us. The first three cottages were empty, but in the fourth we found three women. See, what's hardest about this whole war is you can't tell just by looking who your enemy is. So you have to be real careful. We pulled them out from under the bed and Wood started asking questions. He's really good at getting people to talk. It might seem extreme, but it works and if it saves one of the guys, then it's worth it.
They told us that a small band of "the darks" (that's what everyone calls the Death Eaters and their sympathizers out here) had come through, eaten everything they had, and moved on. One of the darks mentioned Tintagel, so we're heading in that direction now. It's a long way but when you're walking, all you care about is putting one foot in front of the other, and it takes as long as it takes to get somewhere.
They were pretty young women, I guess, and one was really cute, with blonde hair and big blue eyes. She didn't say anything, and wouldn't look any of us in the face. I think the darks did something to her but she wouldn't say. Pretty girls are rare out here. So we were all real quiet around her so as not to make things worse or startle her.
Then the little girl, who looked to be about ten, sidled up to Wood. Just gradually drifting closer. She'd been watching us, also not saying much. Dean grabbed her and pulled her robe off. We were shocked, but she had strapped several vials of bright pink fluid to her stomach. They were very thin glass, and Dean explained that all she needed to do was hit them and they'd explode. She was a suicide bomber, see, and she'd been watching us, to determine who the leader was. So she sidled up to Wood, hoping to take him out and throw the rest of us into confusion.
That crisis was averted, and we're all fine, pretty much. Justin freaked out the other day. Someone threw something in the fire to turn the flames green so they wouldn't be so obvious, and he just lost it. He kept screaming about the darks and the light and how we were all fucked no matter what and that it never would stop, not even in his head. Dean and I got his wand away from him and we called for a dust-off (that's where they come in and take the wounded to the hospital) and so he's in Mungo's now. They say that the color green sets him off. I don't know what happened to him, but Ernie says it happened to several guys in his old group. They call it getting fried.
I hope I don't get fried. You see some stuff out here that really makes you question things.
Love, Harry.
*****
He stayed with me before he left to go to the war. No one knew when it would happen, but everyone knew it would. He volunteered, as James would have done. He's so like his father in so many ways. As the time grew closer for him to leave, he got quieter. I didn't know what to say to him, but I let him know I was there for him. Remus tried to talk to him, too, but with Harry, if he doesn't want to let you in, you don't get in.
I cooked a real feast that night, and Harry and I stayed up late, talking. Something was bothering him, and I could tell he wanted to talk about it but just couldn't figure out how to broach the subject. Finally he went off to bed, as did I.
I woke up. Harry was sitting on my bed, his shadow in the moonlight falling across my bed. For an instant I couldn't tell if it was Harry or James who sat there. The years faded away.
"Harry?" I asked, sitting up. "What's wrong?"
He was quiet, picking at the duvet. "I'm going off tomorrow. I'm going to go fight."
"Yes."
"I wonder if I'll die out there."
I didn't know what to say to that. There was no way I could know the answer, and there was no way I could ease his mind. He suddenly seemed very small, and he looked at me.
"I don't... Sirius... I don't want to go out there... not knowing..." He faded off. His hair was limned with silver in the moonlight.
"Not knowing what, Harry?"
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. I've seen him do that many times. He was steeling himself for something. "I don't want to die a virgin."
Well. Nothing he could have said could have caught me more off-guard than that. Nothing. Once again, I had no idea what to say to that. But I tried.
"Harry... you don't know that you'll die. You're a great wizard. You can defend yourself."
"You don't know that I won't die. And I want to know. I want to... I want to... I want to go out there and have the memory of waking in someone's arms to think about when I get lonely."
"I... Harry... what do you want from me?"
Maybe if I hadn't asked that question, it would all be different now.
Those eyes met mine, and in the moon's diffident light, they shone. Lily looked back at me. The years fell away again, and James was sitting before me, and he leaned forward and kissed me and it was
(Harry)
James kissing me again.
I moaned and kissed him back. His hand came up to my neck, and James never did that. With a sudden clarity, I realized I wasn't kissing James, but his son. My godson. Harry.
I pulled away. "Harry..."
His voice was low and urgent and something in it sent a thrill through me. "Sirius. Please."
"This isn't... not me..." I've always been a master of the English language. Note my eloquence.
"For me...?" He smiled at me, almost coquettishly. He got that from his mother.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I chose my path.
I kissed him back.
*****
Sirius,
Darks are everywhere. We cleaned out a little village and got some really good info. I'm getting pretty good at getting answers out of people. The other day, I set off a booby trap, walking point with Wood. I almost always spot them but the grass was really thick so we were hacking away by hand (you should see my biceps now) and then next thing I knew Wood was screaming and there was this pink mist in front of me and I was thrown backwards. My leg was on fire, but Wood seemed worse off so Thomas took care of him first. Wood's legs are gone so I guess he won't play Quidditch any more. The pink mist was basically his legs being evaporated. The darks are really getting creative with their booby traps.
I got a bad cut on my ass from shrapnel, and it came much closer to my bits than I'd like but it looks like I can still get it up if I so choose so that's good. Dean didn't quite know how to bandage up a butt but I told him he better figure out how or he'd be digging latrines for the rest of his natural life. He figured it out.
They sent me to the hospital but just for a day. I'm back with the guys now, where I belong. I'm in the middle right now, since I'm not walking too well, but I have help and I have painkillers. I told them to send my medal to you, since it's of no use to me out here. Some flunky from the Ministry gave it to me. I was lying there, and he came by, all formal. I don't know if you remember me mentioning Colin Creevey from school, but he was the photographer. So the flunky comes up to me and says "As a token of thanks for your sacrifice in battle, the Ministry awards the Green Star." Then he pins it on me and Creevey snaps the picture. He goes from bed to bed, saying the same thing. Well, just before I got there, they'd brought in this guy who... well, he'd have been better off dead. He had no face left, what was left of his brains was being soaked up by a huge white bandage, and all he could do was moan and rock back and forth and pee on himself. So the Ministry guy gets to his bed, and starts his little speech... and he just stops. He just can't go on. I think he had never been on the front lines, see, and didn't know what it could be like. He didn't know what people could do to each other.
So anyway. Time to get some rest. Just do whatever you want with my medal. I don't want it. The picture's kind of cool, though. I've really lost a lot of weight, haven't I?
Harry
*****
He didn't kiss at all like James did. Not at all. His tongue was clever and it teased at my mouth and he darted it inside and I moaned and met it. He sucked on my lower lip and reached down, untying my pajama bottoms. I lay back on the bed, pulling him down with me, running my hands through
(James')
Harry's hair. Thick and lush and soft. He made a faint purring sound and moved his mouth along my jaw to my ear and then proceeded to suck on my earlobe and oh, that... somehow he must have known what that does to me.
"Fuck, Harry..." I panted.
He stopped and looked down at me and grinned. It was a wicked grin, full of unspoken promise and hidden delights. I have never seen him grin like that before or since.
"You've done this before." It wasn't a question.
"Y-yes... I have... Harry..." I forgot what I was going to say as he moved to my neck, nibbling and sucking. I arched to meet him, hands roaming all over him. He was sleek and compact and his skin was wonderfully soft.
He seemed to like it when I tugged at one of his nipples, because he moaned and began kissing his way down my chest, stopping and sucking on one of my nipples just as James used to do. He tugged it lightly with his teeth and I cried out and he smiled.
The moonlight bathed the bed in a silent benediction.
*****
Sirius,
Been a slow few days. Me and the guys are really itching for some action. We're ready to kick some ass and take some more names. It makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something. Marching through the woods just isn't my idea of battle.
I've been thinking about what you asked me in your last letter. You know, it isn't as hard to kill someone as I thought it would be. I did what I had to do. When you kill someone the first time, they call it losing your cherry. I remember my first. He was there, and he had his wand in his hand and I wasn't about to find out what he was going to do with it. He looked at me, and I cast the curse, and then he was still, with a look of faint surprise on his face. He looked vaguely familiar when I searched him, but I can't place a name with the face. Things like that, things from my past, they all are fading away. All I can remember now is what happened just prior to this moment. Each day is a set of individual moments and you don't look back, because you'll go mad, and you don't look forward, because you don't know if you have a future to look forward to. So killing that boy was just one moment out of many in a long, long day. I don't feel guilty. He'd have killed me and it's predator versus predator out here.
Thanks for the Prophet articles. I had no idea our body count was so low and theirs so high. From what I've seen, it seems to me that we're getting slaughtered. Out of the guys I started with, nearly three quarters of them are dead or injured enough to be sent home. But maybe it's just my group. We have a black cloud over us, perhaps.
Some of the things we do to each other really give me pause. Why, Merlin, why? Why do we have to do this? Why did Wood have to lose his legs? Why did Justin go mad? Why did Ernie and Dean have to die? See, I don't know the answers. I don't think about them, because... it won't do any good and I can't lose my edge out here. I can't get soft.
Harry
*****
He kissed me slowly, moving down my chest to my stomach, tugging at my pants. I raised my hips and he pulled them off. He leaned in again, breath hot against my belly, slowly licking my navel and oh Merlin it felt good.
"Harry... "
"Do you want more?" His tone was almost amused and I was surprised at the cockiness in his voice.
"Yes... don't stop..." He wasn't Harry my godson anymore. He was my lover then, just for that night, and maybe it was right and maybe it was wrong but at the time it was perfect.
He moved down then, licking slowly. He drew back, blowing cool air against me and I arched off the bed, aching for him. Aching for release.He wrapped a cool hand around me. I moaned then, and I think I called his name but it was lost in the sensations flowing through me and
(James)
Harry knew just how to touch me. Teasing me. I groaned in frustration, and he laughed. He murmured a spell and I arched upward. His tongue flickered up and down and oh Merlin I didn't think anything could feel that good. Nothing ever has.
Maybe he'd never done this before but he must have read some damn good books. I cried out in pleasure and relief and he grinned up at me, that same wicked grin, which few ever saw.
"Harry... you... that was..."
"I said I was a virgin. Doesn't mean I haven't given a few blow jobs."
"A... few?"
He didn't answer me, then, although I was so dazed I might not have heard it if he did. He moved up over me.
"What I
haven't done, however...?" He looked at me, asking the question and I nodded.
"It's all right." I reached down, stroking him, and he moaned.
"I..."
"Shh, Harry. It's all right."
"Don't want to hurt you..."
I shook my head. "You won't." For a moment, I felt a stab of guilt, thinking of Remus. But this... Remus would never know, but even if he did find out, somehow, I think he'd understand.
Harry nodded then, those green eyes on mine, and he felt good. He moaned, closing his eyes and I moved to meet him.
"OhhhfuckSirius..."
I smiled. "Nice, isn't it?"
I got another moan in reply. "So tight..."
I put my arms around him. "You feel good."
He nodded and my hands were roaming all over his back, pulling him down for a kiss. He was trembling.
"Look at me." He did, green eyes dark, and, for the first time since I've known him, completely open. Everything he was feeling was writ large in his mother's eyes.
I watched him, memorizing him, filing it away. "It's okay, Harry. It's okay." And we both realized that I was talking about more than the sex. He'd reached down and touched some part of himself long hidden and brought it to the surface and for one moment, he wasn't alone with his past.
He moaned again, burying his face in my neck, and shuddered. I stroked his back.
"Was it what you expected?" I asked when he'd gotten his breath back.
He turned his head and kissed the side of my neck. "It was amazing. Now I see what all the fuss is about."
He was still then, lying beside me, and I realized that our hearts were beating in rhythm.
*****
Sirius,
Things have really been heating up lately. One day blurs into the next, just battles after battles, and you lose track of time or of what happened on what day. I don't know how long I've been here now. It doesn't seem to matter. Time is something created by those who have the luxury of scheduling events at their convenience. For us out here, we never know what we'll see or when we'll see it. We've lost so many people. I've had buddies die in my arms, and I've seen the things we are capable of, and the things the darks are capable of. They're good. They hide. I don't know how to fight an enemy I can't see and I guess we need to fight this war but I don't know why anymore. Sometimes I envy Justin, in his clean room at St. Mungo's. He's not aware of anything any more, really. He doesn't have to see what I see when I close my eyes. I just try to get through each moment as it comes.
You asked how people keep from going nuts. Well, mail helps. Don't worry about writing about boring, everyday stuff. That's what I want to hear about. I want to know that there is a world out there where people aren't fighting and they sleep in clean beds and take showers and eat hot meals every day. So please tell me everything that's going on. Remus, too. I like getting his letters. He's really funny, and I am glad you two are together. I am. I think you're a great pair and you fit each other. Even if he does get cranky every month. He mentioned the beast within, when I asked him about the change, and you know, I am not a werewolf but I think we all have that inside us. And the only way you get out of this alive, maybe, is to find that beast, and let him do all the things in war that you cannot.
I have memories I do cling to. I said once that I don't look back into the past but I remember waking up in your arms the morning that I left, and I felt safe then. So when I get scared, I think of that and I imagine that you're with me. And when I go to sleep at night I'm in your arms, see, and I've got someone watching my back. So thank you for that. Maybe no one else trusts you, but I do. You made me happy, and you gave me something to cling to, and I'm not sure there's a way to repay that. But I can promise you I'll try.
Harry
*****
The fire is low now, and the firewhiskey bottle is almost empty. I pour myself another glass, and wander over to the window. The moon is hidden behind clouds, waxing. My hands shake slightly as I keep reading the letters, and I feel Harry there in the room with me, and I know he's safe. Somehow I know.
*****
Sirius Black:
On behalf of the Minister of Magic, I regret to inform you that Harry James Potter was killed in action on 30 June. He died a hero, defending a fallen comrade. His personal effects will be sent to you.
Please accept our sincere condolences.
Percy Weasley
*****
Dear Sirius,
The moon is huge and full and bright as I write this. If you're reading this, then I guess you know I'm dead. We all wrote a letter to be sent to our loved ones in case we died.
I can't tell you not to be sad. I would be sad too. I don't know what happens to me when I die, but I think you go someplace good. And for me, well, I'll tell you where I think that place is.
I'm there, lying in your arms, and you're warm, and the moon is lining everything with silver, and your breathing matches mine, and I'm safe. I'm warm, and I'm happy, and, for the first time in my life, I feel loved. Really, truly loved. You gave me that. I know that you regret not being there when I was growing up. But before I left, I knew, somehow, that I'd need a memory to hang on to. And you gave me that, and I know that you thought of my father. I could see it in your eyes but you gave me something no one else ever could. You gave me love. You gave me hope.
It wasn't wrong, Sirius. I never did thank you. I never could find a way. But thank you. It meant more to me than you realize. I was alive, and I felt, and you... you made me feel those things and so, somewhere, I'm alive. I'm never far.
I read a really good poem once by a muggle poet named Walt Whitman. This, I suppose, is my epitaph:
"I bequeath myself to the dirt to
grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another ,
I stop some where waiting for you."
We'll meet again.
With love,
Harry