The Best Mistakes

Chapter Two: Once a Treacherous Brother

"Are you certain?"

Sirius drew a thin breath. He wasn't certain at all. But it had preyed on his mind through the past two nights. He knew the memory could hold nothing good. Of course he didn't want to see it. Didn't want to know.

But he had to.

Because what he was imagining could only be worse than what actually waited for him.

Ridiculous device, the imagination. Especially when it has no outlet except dreams. And nightmares.

Nightmares about things unimaginable. Hexes worse than the ones he could remember his mother casting at him. Darker magic than that drilled into him before he accepted his first Gryffindor robes. Curses that could not have crossed his lips.

But if they had...

His fingers closed around the small box that Pomfrey had brought with her. A box very neatly wrapped in yesterday's Prophet. A Christmas gift from Harry.

"Sirius?"

The unbidden smile slipped away as he met Pomfrey's concerned gaze. Keeping the parcel tucked against his palm, he squared his shoulders and nodded. "I'm certain."

Pomfrey cocked her head with lips pursed. He tried to give her an encouraging smile but judging by her soft sigh, he didn't think he succeeded. But nevertheless, she pointed her wand at his temple and began a murmured chant; a complicated string of Latin that he could have followed if he hadn't been so focused on the tendrils of fear lapping at his belly.

It couldn't be worse than the last time he had seen his mother, he told himself firmly. Not worse than the curse that had charred his eyebrows and left blistered evidence of her fury down to his chin.

It had taken all of Mrs. Potter's Burn Salve and all of Mr. Potter's considerable healing magic to remove the scars.

The visible ones anyway.

And if he hadn't blocked that memory, he couldn't imagine--

Pain lanced through Sirius' head, as if someone had stuck a knife through his skull. It radiated down, down and outward through his arms and fingers. With a sudden dizziness, Sirius was spiraling downward--falling through colors and blurry white.

Trying desperately to right himself, he clutched at Pomfrey's arm and squeezed his eyes shut. And as the colors filled themselves in again, in ordered procession, he remembered this.

Remembered sitting in James' favorite chair by the fire. Smiling to himself because James wasn't here to tell him to choose another. Though he would be home soon enough to reclaim his throne.

Which was why Lily was in constant motion.

Straightening pillows, adjusting picture frames and rotating bric-a-brac. Not to mention peering into the oven at the roast duck; James' favorite. Anything to keep from checking the clock. Not that the slowly-ticking hands were any help in this situation.

It was the same every time James was out on a mission for Dumbledore, though Sirius usually only heard about Lily's nerves secondhand since Dumbledore most often sent Sirius and James off together.

Sirius had already decided he wasn't fond of this arrangement--one more hour waiting on James and Remus and he was going to volunteer to scrub the floors; wandless.

Lily had gone back into the kitchen; he could hear her opening the oven door.

He set aside his bottle of Butterbeer, sighed and struggled up from the cushy recesses of the chair, following after her. As she reached for a stack of plates, he plucked them from her grip.

She glanced up at him, surprise in her green eyes. "Thanks," she murmured. She shook her head. "I forgot you were here."

He gave her a lopsided smile. "Not your fault; I've always been terribly forgettable."

She half-smiled, squeezed his wrist and leaned her back against the counter. "I hate waiting," she said on a low sigh as she watched him lay the table. He accepted the bundle of forks she handed over.

"James is even worse when it is you we're waiting for," Sirius said.

"He won't have to worry about that much longer..." She put her hand over her lower abdomen, a distinctly protective gesture. Sirius paused with a fork suspended in mid air. He knew she and James were hoping to start a family--James talked of nothing else lately.

"Are you...?"

Lily's smile was full this time. "Don't tell James," she said quickly as Sirius' eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. "Not that there's technically anything to tell. It's much too early to know--" A blush decorated her cheeks. "--but a woman can just tell..."

Well, Sirius couldn't very well argue with that. He smiled along with her. With sudden energy, she grinned and opened the cold cupboard. "Help me make a salad?" she asked over her shoulder. "They should be back any minute."

"I'm aces with a lettuce."

She came out of the cupboard, her arms full of vegetables, her eyebrow arched. "Since I've seen you create an entire mural with nothing but a crate of lettuces and a can of paint, I can't argue that."

"Two cans of paint," he corrected as he took the vegetables and dumped them on the counter. "We needed maroon and gold both."

Passing him a knife, she rolled her eyes. "I've always wondered how Gryffindor manages to have any fun now that you four have graduated. Though how you graduated..."

"Clever girl," he said with a smirk. "It was our charm. That, and our hair," he added, twirling the cucumber before settling it on Lily's cutting board and taking off the end with a decisive chop.

She bit through the tip of a carrot, smiling slowly as she chewed. "James does have lovely hair..."

A pointed cough and she chuckled.

"Yours is lovely as well," she said, as if soothing Padfoot's hackles. "Very shiny."

Without really being conscious of it, he ran his fingers through his hair, only noticing when Lily snorted. He made a disgruntled sort of sound and went back to his slicing, soon switching to the lettuce.

He looked over at Lily when she sighed. She was arranging napkins on the table, her lips squashed in a worried line. Balancing the point of the blade on the cutting board, he half-turned so that he was facing her. "He's going to be all right."

Lily glanced at him, her fingers knotted in one of the cloth napkins. She nodded. "I know... I always do this; every time. I know it's silly..." She shrugged as she lowered her lids.

"It isn't," he assured her quietly; she raised her eyes. "But this is James. And he has Remus with him. Nothing to be worried about." He smiled, confidently he hoped. Her eyes softened, but before she could say anything, the Floo roared from the sitting room. All of Sirius' tension eased away. "See? There they are now."

But Lily wasn't even listening. Her hair flew around her as she pivoted. Her excited footsteps rapped against the wood, with Sirius only a few paces behind. And no less excited.

His heart dropped when he saw Dumbledore instead of James.

Dumbledore, his face as solemn as Sirius had ever seen it.

Moving of their own accord, his fingers caught Lily's hand. She had already lifted the other to her lips.

Dumbledore stepped forward, his blue eyes clouded with sorrow. He put a gentle hand over their tangled hands. "I'm so very sorry Lily..."

"No," she whispered. Tears swam in the headmaster's eyes.

Sirius stared at Dumbledore, willing those blue eyes to stop telling him that James was dead.

"The Death Eaters ambushed us... There was an explosion."

A strangled sob broke the silence and for a moment, Sirius couldn't tell which one of them had made the sound.

Lily. Her furious echo reverberated round the small room. "No," she said again. Her nails raked over Sirius' skin as she ripped her hand away.

With a force that should have rocked the headmaster, she shoved the flats of her hands against his chest. "No," she shouted. "He's not! He can't be! No! This is all your fault no he shouldn't have..." The words bled together, no longer words at all as she made fists and began pounding.

"Lily... dear girl..." Dumbledore, pain crumpling his face, caught her wrists but she continued to flail. He murmured something as he brought her struggling body close, and Sirius finally came out of his stupor as Lily slumped.

"What did you do?" he demanded, already springing forward, but the headmaster had caught her easily, as if she weighed nothing.

"Sirius," Dumbledore said, grief softening his voice and making it shake, "I'm sorry."

"What did you do to her?"

"The spell acts as a sedative. She'll be perfectly--"

Rage drove Sirius' words up an octave. "You had no right to do that!"

"I..." Dumbledore looked stricken, "... apologize, Sirius. She was hysterical, as you--"

With fury making his vision swim, Sirius gathered Lily in his arms; Dumbledore didn't even protest. And Sirius wanted to tell him to get out. That he wasn't welcome here. He didn't know why Dumbledore shouldn't be welcome here, except that Lily's words to Dumbledore were dancing in his head.

This is all your fault...

His fingers and palms tingled under Lily's weight as he climbed the stairs. But James would want him to make certain she was comfortable.

James would insist--

James...

Sirius' chest heaved, but he simply cradled Lily closer. When she was tucked under the blankets in the bed, Sirius slumped in the chair beside; he couldn't remember how they had got there.

The gold embroidery in Dumbledore's robes glinted as he knelt in front of Sirius. The anger had drained, and Sirius could only stare. "Sirius... may I bring you anything? Tea? A Calming Draught?"

Numb, Sirius shook his head. His voice was hoarse when he whispered, "He can't be--"

Mimicking his gesture to Lily, Dumbledore closed a hand over Sirius'. And then he was speaking; words about a Death Eater ambush, a terrible explosion, horrors of nothing left but Sirius didn't listen. He didn't want to hear. He didn't need to hear.

James was dead.

And even if Remus was going to recover, what good was that without James?

"Perhaps I should contact one of Lily's friends?" Dumbledore asked softly. "Someone to care for her?"

Sirius gazed at Lily--at the dark hair fanned out across the white pillows. Her eyelids gently fluttering with her enforced sleep. "No... I'll stay with her."

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Of course."

Sirius closed his eyes and tried to swallow around the swelling in his throat. Dumbledore squeezed his fingers.

"Maggie Dearborn is waiting for her husband as well. Too many lives lost today..." He sighed. "Would you like me to return later this evening?"

With his lips clamped together, a tiny shake of the head was all Sirius could manage. Dumbledore accepted that with a hesitant nod. "I will be at Hogwarts should you need anything... If Lily needs anything..."

Sirius didn't think he responded; didn't think he could have spoken even if prodded with an iron. The old man brushed Lily's cheek before he slipped away.

Sirius supposed time went on from there; that the clock ticked its way forward but he lost track of everything. There was nothing but the empty space in his chest.

Where was the denial? The anger that was supposed to signal grief? Neither was there.

He felt nothing.

James was supposed to be here.

The duck was going to burn. The lettuce was sitting, unchopped, on the cutting board.

James couldn't be dead.

James was life itself, bigger than all of them. His best friend.

His brother.

He was meant to outlive them all.

When the ache became a hollow, Sirius closed his eyes and replayed scenes in his head. He and James whispering over a burbling cauldron, Slughorn commending their ingenuity when they invented a pimple-suppressing cream.

Giggling uncontrollably as Peter shrieked as they finally worked out the spell to rearrange his clothing so that he was wearing his pants outside his robes.

Cheering until they were hoarse the day they transformed completely. Grinning--and pretending the moisture in their eyes was because of the dust--when they explained everything to Remus.

James' soppy smile when he announced that Lily had said yes, and by Merlin, he had told them she would!

Sirius' half-watt smile as he thumped his mate on the back in congratulations. He wasn't losing his best friend, after all. James was only getting married.

The wedding day, with Sirius standing beside James, grinning all the way now. James had never been so happy.

Sirius' smile abruptly fell as he dragged his eyes open and tried to focus. Dreaming... he had been dreaming. He blinked groggy eyes at the clock--half eleven.

He had no idea how long he had been sleeping.

The grief crashed over him as soon as his eyes found Lily. She was awake, her eyes unfocused and fastened to the ceiling.

"Lily..." His dry throat swallowed the word. He caught the arms of the chair as she turned her head to him; her eyes were glassy.

She blinked in confusion, struggling for understanding. "Sirius?"

He nodded and as her lips trembled, he stood on shaky legs and crossed to the bed. "What can I get for you?" He hoped she couldn't trace the pain making it difficult to breathe. "Dumbledore cast a spell to sedate you. You've been asleep... are you hungry? Would like a glass of water? Do want me to send for someone?"

If he continued to speak, maybe the ache would go away.

But Lily shook her head. Her irises were brighter now, and he couldn't go on. Her fingers opened and closed, her hand looking for its mate. Choking down the rising swell, Sirius sat on the bed and took her icy fingers. They tightened around his, her grip an entreaty.

He fought a smile to his lips, whispering, "Sleep... just sleep." But she didn't. Her eyes held his. And they sat there together for a long time, neither speaking. Both lost to their memories.

And this time Sirius heard every tick of the clock, listened to the autumn wind howling outside the window. The scritch of a branch against the glass. And somewhere amongst the symphony, he dreamt again.

The day he met James on the train--the grin on the black-haired boy's face when the Hat shouted Gryffindor for Sirius. James sticking out his hand in pact as he joined Sirius at the table. Sealing their friendship.

Crowing in delight the day inked footsteps walked across their map. Whispering under cover of the cloak, long into the night. Dueling Death Eaters. James taking a reverberating curse to the chest in Sirius' stead; Sirius coughing up dried leaves as his friend writhed on the dusty ground.

He woke with sweat pooling at his collar, dotting his upper lip. His free hand was in tangled in the loose sheet. His free hand...

Twisting his neck, he found his head on one of the pillows, his face very close to Lily's. She had cradled his hand to her breast. He could feel her heart beating.

He should let her be... let her rest.

Do something useful.

But her face was peaceful, as it hadn't been hours ago when he was slumped in the chair. Her muscles no longer twitched her stress. So he quieted his movements, keeping as still as he could.

The clock chimed five but the sun was not up. It wasn't even dawn. And he wondered if he should be hungry. But the hole in his chest had swallowed his stomach, making him feel emptier than he ever had. He tried to press back the tears climbing up his sinuses.

"Sirius?"

A wet noise escaped but he pressed his lips together and turned his eyes to Lily. She was staring at him, once again as if she had forgotten he was here. Her gaze flicked to their twisted fingers and Sirius realized her mind had probably filled in James' hand and he wanted to snatch it away.

But she clutched tighter, the grip painful now. Tears gathered in her eyes. There was no more confusion in her face. "He's gone... isn't he?"

No time to be a coward. James would expect more. So Sirius nodded; his chest burned with the effort. "Yes."

Lily's lips trembled. Her other hand squeezed a handful of the bedclothes at her belly. And with an icy jolt, Sirius remembered what Lily had said in the kitchen. About knowing... about a baby...

A child that James would never know.

A quiet sob broke the silence and Lily's shoulders began to shake with the force of her tears. It wasn't anything like the storm she had unleashed on Dumbledore. Tears were falling slowly down her face, and she was gulping though sobs that were somehow harsher and more ordered than her panic downstairs.

She twisted, her shoulders hunching as she tried to curl her body in on itself; as if to force the hurt away. Sirius slid down the mattress and pulled her close, wrapping his arms firmly around her to absorb the tremors.

"Shhh," he murmured. "Shhh... It's going to be all right--"

His own tears finally escaped then, finding strength as Lily sobbed quietly in his arms. She was clinging to him, her fingers finding purchase in his shirt.

Words impossible, he kissed her hair. She turned her face up, silent tears still tracking down her face.

And then her mouth was on his, her body molded to him. And with her fingers wound in his hair, the hole in his chest didn't scream so loudly.

The burning in his throat eased as he kissed her back.

He could feel the tears on her cheeks, felt the shared grief heaving their chests in mismatched harmony but he no longer cared. The memories and the hurt were fading away, being drowned in the warmth of lips and skin.

But guilt trumped everything else as soon as Lily was curled into his side. Her even, measured breaths awakened gooseflesh across his chest.

The magnitude of this, what they had done, kept sleep at bay. He swallowed, his limbs twitching with conflicting urges--to leap out of the bed, as far away from her as he could get, and to draw her in, breathe in until her scent filled his nostrils.

A chill was quickly spreading; shame along with it. Because he had meant to protect her. He hadn't been able to watch her cry. To witness grief as deep as his own. But this had been a mistake.

And she would realize it as soon as she woke.

It didn't matter that she had needed him so desperately. He should have found another way to comfort her. He was supposed to be stronger than this.

He swallowed hard and forced the tears away. Sick bastard, that's what he was. Taking what was James' alone.

But James was dead.

He had to gulp to keep the sob from escaping that time, and Lily shifted against him. He froze, but it was too late. Her eyes fluttered open, and then her fingers arched against Sirius' clammy skin as she took in the scene.

Their legs intertwined beneath the sheets, her hair haphazard across his chest, her cheek pressed into his shoulder.

He didn't move as her breathing shallowed. "Sirius..." Another round of goose pimples blossomed. "Sirius... God--" She took in a rush of air as she choked on the whispered words. "I'm so sorry..."

Sirius' lips parted. "What? No," he said as she slid away, "it wasn't your--"

Lily shook her head. It took Sirius a moment to realize why she was tugging on the sheets. He backed away, pushing wads of bedclothes toward her as he grappled for the pillow behind him. Her cheeks were dark. Her forehead as well, where her sweaty fringe didn't obscure it.

She was shaking, and it sent a stab of shame down to Sirius' belly. His eyes darted around the room, and as soon as he saw her dressing gown on a hook by the bureau, he summoned it.

He nearly dropped it as he offered it to her; it slipped twice through her fingers. With a grimace, he turned away so that she could cover herself. He didn't turn round until he heard the loo's door open and close.

A moment later he was fumbling with trousers and a shirt, leaving his socks jumbled in his fist before slipping out of the room. He couldn't leave, not without telling her. But at least he could give her privacy in her own room.

As he should have done yesterday evening.

It was hours before Lily emerged. Her hair hung in damp strands around her face, her feet bare and most of her buttons in the wrong holes. As soon as she saw Sirius, she wrapped her arms around herself. He thought he could hear her teeth chattering.

She didn't say anything though her lips and jaw moved three times. Sirius finally stood; he stuffed his hands into his pockets to still their tremors. "Wanted to be certain you were all right," he murmured. "Before I left..."

Lily blinked several times but tears glistened anyway. "Don't," she said quietly. "You don't need to..."

Sirius didn't have a response for that, so after his startled pause, he only nodded. Lily gazed at him for another moment and then she went to James' chair, dropping into it as she could walk no farther. Her face to the fire, she folded her legs up.

The light from the fire flickered soft patterns on her skin.

Moving in silence, Sirius chose the warmest quilt from the basket by the hearth and draped it over her. She didn't seem to notice. He stood beside her chair, his eyes roaming everywhere except back to Lily. He finally sat in the chair opposite and watched the crackling flames. Despite the heat from the fire, his limbs remained cold.

"Are you... hungry?" he ventured, flexing his fingers against the velvety fabric.

She shook her head.

He dented the fabric with his fingernails. "You ought to drink something..."

Her deeply-shadowed eyes met his only briefly. Her voice was like gravel as she answered, "Tea."

Grateful for something to do, he sprang from the chair and went into the kitchen. Just as he was setting the kettle on a tray, a flash of light through the window caught his attention.

His hand went to his sleeve, and then he swore under this breath. He had left his wand upstairs.

"Accio--" He swallowed the rest of the words as he saw Dumbledore, with Fawkes on his shoulder. The headmaster was hurrying across the lawn, his face pale as bone.

Sirius wrenched the door open.

"Sirius," Dumbledore panted. "It's James... We've found him," he rushed on, as close to babbling as Sirius had ever heard. "He's alive, Sirius. He is unwell, weeks to recover fully, more damage than Poppy could fix on her own... Dear Merlin, where is Lily?"

Sirius stood there, absolutely frozen, as Dumbledore rushed by in a swirl of lemon robes.

Through a fog, he listened to the old man repeating the same words to Lily.

And then silence.

Even the flames were in shock.

Finally... muffled sounds that were probably Lily's.

"Lily," Dumbledore was saying in a soothing voice, "it's quite all right, my dear... Yes, yes, I am quite certain. I am dreadfully sorry to have given you news prematurely, but the explosion--it was magically generated--threw James' body miles away, to Ottery St. Catchpole. It was only happenstance that we found him at all. It was little Bill Weasley who found him. In a field near their home. He was terribly frightened, of course--"

Sirius finally made it to the parlour.

Dumbledore had a hand around Lily's shoulders, supporting her as she trembled. Dumbledore smiled at him, missing Lily's haunted eyes as they pierced Sirius through.

"You may both see him," the headmaster went on. "Only for a few minutes, I'm afraid, but those are Poppy's orders. He lost a significant amount of blood." He continued to detail James' wounds, each worse than the next. He finally stopped when Lily closed her eyes.

"Poppy is expecting us... I know you have been through a terrible night," he said quietly. "And I am sincerely sorry for that. I cannot tell you how happy... how relieved I am to have James back with us." He squeezed Lily's arm as she tried unsuccessfully to blink back tears.

"You need shoes," Dumbledore observed. "Allow me..." He summoned the trainers next to the back door. Lily stared at them when they were in her hands, finally sitting heavily in the chair and fumbling to get them on her feet.

And the entire time, Sirius hadn't moved.

James is alive, his mind screamed at him. Screamed until it was hoarse. Because there was no relief to match Dumbledore's. He had betrayed his best friend.

He had slept with Lily.

He had fucked his best friend's wife.

Sirius could feel his heart beating. Wondered if it still would be once he told James.

"Sirius, if you would take Fawkes' tail?" Dumbledore interrupted the squeezing around Sirius' heart.

The older wizard was holding onto Fawkes' wing with one hand, Lily with the other. Lily looked away as soon as their eyes met. Biting hard on his bottom lip, Sirius grabbed a handful of feathers and was sucked into oblivion.

Unfortunately, he was spat out a moment later. Hogwarts' infirmary was unchanged.

Except that James' bruised body was lying in the bed nearest Pomfrey's office.

Lily's indrawn breath was fast and harsh. Only Dumbledore's hand on her elbow kept her from falling as she rushed to his side. "James..." There were only tears after that as Lily put her cheek to his.

Sirius couldn't move.

Conversations flowed around him, including Pomfrey briefing the headmaster on Remus' condition in the next bed. And Dedalus Diggle's as well. Alice Longbottom had already gone home.

James is alive...

Over and over the refrain marched through Sirius' brain.

Until Pomfrey smiled at him on her way to another white-robed healer in her office. And Dumbledore was beckoning him closer. Lily was still bent over James, her fingers combing gently through his hair.

And without his permission, memories socked him in the gut. Lily's fingers knotting the hair at his nape as their mouths explored, his own fingers playing chords against her hips.

He gnashed his teeth together, sending a jolt of pain through his jaw.

Lily moved a little then, and Sirius saw James' face. His pale skin stood in stark contrast to the bruises covering most of the skin. He had several cuts as well, one from his eye down to his chin.

Most of his body was restrained in a magical field. He wouldn't be able to move for a week.

Sirius forced the tears away with an angry swallow. You stupid git, Prongs. The thought came unbidden. And he didn't know what it meant.

"I should have been there..."

Dumbledore looked up, his blue eyes soft and Sirius realized he had said the words aloud.

"You could not have prevented this."

It should have been me... He didn't say it this time, but the headmaster's nodded his understanding. But of course, he couldn't understand. Probably couldn't even suspect that Sirius was capable of such betrayal.

Sirius' throat stung as he silently begged for his friend's forgiveness. Something he would never be granted. But even though he would be forfeiting the only family he had, Sirius knew he had to tell James.

"Lily," Pomfrey said quietly as she joined them. Lily's eyes were swollen when she raised her head. "He will not wake until tomorrow, he is so heavily sedated. You should go home and rest. I will give you a Sleeping Draught."

Lily opened her mouth, closed it again when she noticed Sirius. She nodded.

Pomfrey gave her several vials and more instructions before she assured both of them that James would recover fully. Lily nodded wordlessly and allowed Dumbledore to escort her to the Floo.

Sirius allowed his hand to ghost over James' matted hair before he answered Dumbledore's summons and though Lily's gaze was fixed straight ahead, he stepped into the fireplace beside her.

"You will be certain she rests?" Pomfrey asked him. Keeping his face calm with effort, Sirius nodded. She smiled and held out the pot of glittery powder.

Flinging it down, he called hoarsely, "James Potter's house!"

It was only a reflex that made him catch Lily's wrist as she tripped over the rug. But the instant he touched her, her face crumpled. "Oh God..."

"I'm sorry!" He snatched his hand away but she only continued to stare at him.

"What are we..." She shook her head. "We can't... you can't tell him," she whispered. "Do you have any idea what--"

"He will be angry with me," Sirius said, his voice strange and flat to his own ears. "Not you. He'll forgive you."

Lily blinked, and blood rushed to her face. "I know..."

He knew she hadn't meant to be cruel but blades scored his gut then. But he nodded. He had said it first, hadn't he? "I'll tell him," he said; he sounded like he was speaking through a tunnel.

But Lily was shaking her head, her green eyes too bright. "No," she said too loudly. "You can't do that... He'll never... I can't do that to you--"

"Lily, you can't live with something like this between you; don't be foolish--"

"You're like a brother to him, Sirius, and it will kill him--" Her breath caught and a few tears spilled over. "It will kill him..."

Sirius' sinuses burned. "I know--"

"Obliviate!"

The whispered word rocked him backward. And then Sirius was sitting in a cave with Pomfrey, the memories as vivid as if he had just lived them.

He had slept with Lily.

Fifteen years ago.

"No." Sirius tried to take a breath, but his heart was beating too fast. "No..."

It couldn't have happened.

He would not have betrayed his friend.

He had slept with his best friend's wife.

Fifteen years ago.

"Sirius?" Pomfrey was still kneeling beside him; she took his sleeve. "Sirius, are you all right?"

He could have answered in a dozen ways. There were a dozen thoughts darting through his head. But only one word emerged. "Harry..."