Long time!

I wish you a late Merry Christmas & an early happy new year 😍

Buckle your seats for another long chapter, my lovelies ♡ I hope this makes up for the long wait.

Vote and comment, please, pretty please :)

Hope you enjoy reading, my deers

******
Sirius had never given himself enough time nor mental space to wallow in sadness and grief, and now was no different. After every dreadful fall to hell, he'd spring back up again as if he'd never been hurt at all. Sirius had learned to heal his pain in silence, lick his wounds behind smiles, while everyone else believed he was just fine.

"Remind me again, why I had to drop off Harry there?" Sirius hummed in a challenging mode, biting into his bacon.

"Sirius, we've been over this already," said Remus, his mouth gaping and his gaze helpless. "To keep him safe, it's what's best for Harry, Dumbledore thinks--"

"Yeah, but who cares what Dumbledore thinks?" Sirius scoffed, waving his hand dismissively.

Remus inclined his head up in silent prayer, "oh Merlin, help me."

"Look, Harry hates being trapped there," said Sirius brokenly, provoking Remus to sigh. "I can't leave him in the wrong address much longer, because trust me, I do know what it feels like."

"The Dursleys are not like your parents, Sirius, in any way," said Remus in compassion, his gaze breathing light.

Sirius merely shook his head in silence, unable to deny or prove anything.

"If for a moment I thought they were any similar, I would hunt them down with you," continued Remus in newfound determination.

"I know you would," replied Sirius, a smile gracing his features.

"There's no crisis looming--" began Remus, reciting a motto he'd once believed in.

"--except those that you create," supplied Sirius, smirking as he spoke the words from the tip of his tongue, provoking Remus to crack a light laugh.

"The point is, Sirius, you did what's right-- even if you surely hated every moment of it," said Remus, a gentle hand clapping on his shoulder.

"I know, I just didn't want to leave him alone."

***
Oh yes, leave me alone. Beating in relief, Harry locked himself behind his door, escaping the Dursley's clutches by a hair.

Harry caved in his bedroom that held some safety within its walls-- kept to himself from the first day to the next sundown. Nothing of worth happened, and for that, he was thankful.

He didn't even bother unpacking at all, for he knew --hoped-- he would be leaving soon enough.

Harry merely waited for time to run out, but he felt even heavier glancing at his calendar to mark out how many days were left.

Last time he'd heard from Sirius, became an added product of worry and reservations: Sirius had been battling with misplaced rage and unresolved distress.

Later that day, Harry had mirror-called his godfather again to check up on him and possibly even let him open up-- however, Remus had been the one to answer the mirror and attempted to assure Harry that Sirius was just thinking things through and it wasn't his story to tell.

Harry sighed, his nose twitching, and reached for his quill and a spare parchment. To keep himself busy, he allowed his mind to think over what he'd write.

Dear Hermione,

Hope you're well-settled.

I miss you guys already, and I miss my home --Hogwarts-- even though it's never been any short of an adventure.

You were right, I'm not enjoying my stay here. Snuffles couldn't take me in, had to leave me where I've always been-- but no worries, it's all for the best, and hopefully only a matter of time.

P.S. you would be proud of how much homework I've already finished, only because I'm bored out of my mind.

See you soon.

Feeling much lighter, Harry signed his name, ready to set Hedwig free with the folded parchment.

Harry patted Hedwig's feathers, to which she lovingly rubbed her curved beak onto his fingers, soothing his nerves. He soon attached the letter to her claws and watched her fly through the open sky.

Harry longed to be set free as well, fly away into the wind, flee the restraining chains of his childhood.

His gaze was lost in thought, until it widened, catching sight of a dark shadow of the grim he knew all too well.

Harry raced down, taking the staircase two steps at a time, to be in company of his dogfather.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon sneered, disturbed by the noise of his excitement.

Harry didn't even bother answering, couldn't care less.

The front-door was wide open in an instant and slammed loudly at a close. Harry couldn't feel bad for leaving the house, disregarding Sirius' former warnings to stay inside-- just because Harry needed to see Padfoot now.

In the dead of night, Padfoot was not out there, neither behind the bushes nor a few blocks away, nowhere to be seen.

Maybe it had merely been his own wishful thinking igniting his imagination over the black dog.

His hope deflated, Harry heaved a let-down sigh.

His gaze slowly circled around the garden in search for a lily-flower but couldn't find any. He resorted to pick out a couple of lilies from the neighbor's backyard.

Aunt Petunia surely wouldn't allow a single lily to flourish and blossom in her garden, Harry mused in bitterness.

Like his mother before him, Harry wrapped one of the lilies to a petunia and, with a heavy heart, left them be on the doorstep of his own hell-house.

***
Next morning, it wasn't hot layers of the sun that woke Harry up, but an out-of-rhythm knock that slowly brought him back to his senses.

In one swift move, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, adjusting his round glasses there, and reached for his wand just in case.

Harry stumbled to open the door to see Aunt Petunia darting her gaze back and forth.

"I see you're no longer afraid of your pillow," she said less firmly than usual, noting his eyelids half-closed and his hair even messier.

"Maybe because you've stolen my constant nightmares to yourself." Harry shot back right away with an at ease expression, provoking Petunia's indignation.

Petunia moved past him to enter her son's old second-bedroom for the first time in years, silently alarmed by the unpacked trunk.

"Have you grown immune to my freaky disease of magic, to handle being within five feet of me?" Harry set his arms against his chest in a challenge.

Harry's cold gaze met hers, and she sighed heavily at loss for words.

"I've always been immune to pure magic," said Petunia slowly, her breath catching up to her throat. "No matter how desperate I was to belong."

Harry frowned in confusion, unable to register the words he heard or the emotions lying beyond.

"What is this, Harry?" Petunia asked in a low voice, raising the pair of roses from her lap.

The roses here acted as a traumatic trigger forcing her to grieve the loss of her long-gone sister, all over again or from scratch, since Petunia hadn't done it properly in the first place.

"That's from my mother-- a departing gift from your sister," replied Harry simply, to which Petunia gave him a weary smile.

"Lily... she was always the flower your eyes would go to in a fruitful garden." Petunia hid the crack from her voice, her gaze set far away toward something that wasn't even alive. "But me..."

"I've always been the smelly flower snatched out from its roots, for a moment's admiration only to be thrown again-- to rot and crumble under one's shoes." Petunia spoke in a trance.

Harry silently watched his aunt shake in opening up, and some part of him felt sorry for her.

Petunia had been forced to live under the shadows in the dark, knowing that her sister blossomed under the sun and moonlight alike.

Her gaze lingered on the roses breathing in her grasp... the petunia and lily-flower held onto each other's thorn in unity, shoving sharp poison away from their colorful petals.

"I'm sure there was a time when we didn't hurt one another," said Petunia almost to herself, heavy in the heart. "I miss that."

"My mother never hurt you," broke in Harry with a defensive aura, dominant to protect his mother's memory.

Petunia shot him a hard glare that her nostrils flared, from which Harry expected her to blow up, but when she spoke, her tone was helpless. "Not all hurt is intentional."

Awkward silence met her words.

In fairness, Harry read between the lines that the mere presence of Lily had overshadowed over Petunia. Sibling rivalry had been drawn with one being appreciated by all and the other left unseen.

Petunia hoped Harry would soon understand that she never meant for any harm to come to her sister or her nephew--

But because she was too blind in her black jealousy and desperate to camouflage her own pain, Petunia had been a nightmare to Harry.

"Aunt Petunia," began Harry in self-debate, sticking up to his courage. "Would you really have thrown me out after the dementor's attack last summer?"

Harry didn't know if either answer would satisfy him, but at least the questioning thought wouldn't eat-up his mind any more... he deserved a moment of honesty, however bitter it could be.

Petunia was startled at the odd question, staring at him on cue, not knowing from where to start. "Yes, I would have... but the suspicious letter reminded me of that night of Godric's Hollow, er, incident when I had a helpless baby thrown into my lap."

Petunia gathered all her strength to bring her suppressed emotions up to the surface, willing to grant Harry and herself healing closure even if it's belated.

"From the moment I laid eyes on you, Harry, I knew I couldn't give you the warmth or care you needed," said Petunia, biting on her lower lip.

Up till now, no one even knew that Petunia had kept the blanket baby-Harry had been wrapped in, when left on her doorstep in the dead of night.

Whenever her eyes would fall on that comfort blanket, concern for the child she should have loved would fly deep into her.

"You didn't even try-- to at least accept me," said Harry brokenly, his gaze bore daggers into her.

"You're a constant reminder of the sister I've lost," was Petunia's heavy reply.

A reminder of the magical world I resented for rejecting me-- which broke the bond I once had with Lily... and tore away any chance of a connection I could have had with Harry. Petunia continued the line in her mind, her dark thoughts eating her up inside.

"Is it really that hard to love me?" Harry whispered to himself in broken realization.

At that, Petunia closed her eyes and shook her head in piercing silence.

Although she refrained from letting it seen, Petunia had cared for Harry in her own twisted way.

Her undying determination to raise Harry as normal as one could be, instead of accepting him for who he was, was what kept her distant from Harry.

"I wanted to do right by you, for I was positive that if the cases were reversed, God forbid, Lily would have done a much better job." Petunia had an intense frown stretch to her face. "Perfect Lily, she always was," she added with a bitter undertone.

She was taken so early from you, Harry, to really know her. One single thought swung in her mind, when Petunia saw the fragile twinkle bright in Harry's eyes.

Although she'd never dare admit grieving the loss of her sister, Petunia regretted not making amends.

"But my perfect sister just had to get herself blown up, snatch herself out of the equation," said Petunia, swallowing against the lump in her throat, and Harry couldn't find his voice to react.

To Harry's mild surprise, his aunt's expression turned cold, regaining her composure to walk away from him.

He could only guess that she had forcibly shoved the ache down her heart where it belonged.

Petunia hesitated by the doorway, swirling around. "The dishes are in the sink," she hissed, her gaze entailed slight indifference, to which Harry nodded absent-mindedly.

Petunia's last lingering thought ran deep within her soul, drowning the beats of her heart into silence.

I never got what I was desperate for: to be loved like Lily, to be like Lily, to be Lily.

But Petunia had never been introspective enough to figure out the reason her life was sun-and-earth different from that of her sister, only because her heart was in no way as caring and loving as Lily's.

Instead, Petunia broke Lily.

*******
Meanwhile, Sirius gave Remus quite a difficult time, not that it's anything new, that he was on cue to pull at his hair in annoyance.

"So, let me get this straight," said Remus, his finger raised in a threat. "Dumbledore told you to leave Harry at the Dursleys for a month?"

"That is correct," Sirius hummed in agreement with an easy nod. "But I promised Harry I'll pick him up in a week, so..."

"Oh, and of course, you're a man of your word?" Remus asked in a teasing air, tilting his head.

"You know me too much, yes," replied Sirius in good nature, clicking his tongue.

Remus sighed helplessly, narrowing his eyes. "And now, you're fussing around when it's been only two days?

"So, your point?" Sirius asked without blinking, his grey eyes daring.

"Ah, here we go again," muttered Remus, shoving his hand to rub his forehead.

"C'mon, Moony, who guarantees he's over-protected there over anywhere else?" Sirius countered swiftly, his tone urgent and his gaze desperate.

"A few days would hardly do the trick," said Remus, his voice rising an octave.

"Look, if anything were to happen --and I stress on the if here-- I'd save him." Sirius felt on-edge, tapping his finger on the table with every word.

"Of course," replied Remus, his gaze swirling in compassion, to which Sirius merely sighed.

"But Sirius, we don't want to be crippled with endless fear either," continued Remus, weighing his words to add logic into his argument. "To always be on-guard for danger, everytime there's mere noise around him."

"Remember your lessons, Professor-- constant vigilance!" Sirius ended his sarcasm with an angry exclaim. "That's the price we pay for love and war."

"I get it, Padfoot," said Remus, a sigh calming his senses. "Just, every day brings you closer to what you're waiting for."

Sirius felt his glare harden, breathing heavily.

"It's not like I'm quitting after two days-- it's been fifteen years of excruciating waiting," breathed Sirius in fire, more intense than any exclaim. "I'm done with my life-sentence."

Sirius meant to snap that he truly couldn't wait anymore.

For a lifetime of let-downs, Sirius had been forced to scream in protest at the world, which never failed to turn its back on him. Ever since he could remember, Sirius had waited for life to smile back at him at least for once, but to no avail.

"I know, just a few more days to go," begged Remus heartily, heaving a deep sigh. "For Harry to stand a chance against Voldemort."

Sirius felt his mind nearly unhinge, falling from the heated argument into frozen silence.

In cognitive understanding and emotional empathy, each perceived the other's logical outlook and felt growing compassion for one another.

"Right, that's right, of course, you're right." Sirius ate down his words in retreat, waving his hands out of control. "You're always right, Remus."

Sirius was tired of circular arguments, for now.

"It's all for the best," said Remus in mild relief, yet he couldn't shove away the slight disappointment that Sirius had actually relented.

"Yeah, I don't know what I'd do without you, Moony, probably tear their house off its hinges... but no, that will have to wait." Sirius found himself saying and believing-in patience.

Sirius stumbled in his footsteps to the front-door. "I'll be back in an hour or so." He called over his shoulder, setting his mind straight.

"I can say I'm off for a walk in the fresh air, but you know better," Sirius answered Remus' unspoken question, but the concern didn't go away.

"Wh-?" Remus asked in a beat, confused to the bones. "Sirius!"

"You'll just have to trust me," replied Sirius, his smirking twinkle crystal clear, and Remus sighed upon Padfoot's shrug.

Now, that was the precise definition of a challenged simplicity. Remus would trust Sirius with his life, without the slightest doubt, but he knew Sirius needed additional guidance in following reason.

"Well then, have a good day," Remus called after him, forcing his voice into lightness.

"Oh don't you tell me what to do!" Sirius slammed the door in his wake, provoking Remus to howl in laughter.

*******
"And where do you think you're going?" Uncle Vernon sneered, with fierce hatred breathing from his eyes-- one which Harry had nearly forgotten, being showered with love for the last few days at Hogwarts.

"Out," was Harry's blunt reply.

"Vernon, dear, leave him be," said Petunia calmly, tugging at his oversized jacket to pull him away from Harry.

Vernon still shot Harry the death glare, perplexed around the sick trick that freak had played on Petunia to have her mildly protect him now.

Harry paused in his tracks, his hand circling around the doorknob, remembering how Sirius had urged him to not leave the house. He inhaled a deep breath, however, and stepped into the open air.

The trees whistled against the wind, the wild bushes dancing around the darkness.

It was then that Padfoot came through, to see Harry unprotected from the horrors in this world.

Padfoot raised his paw to greet a criss-crossed Harry, and with a gentle nudge, the lost pet dropped his weight on his savior's shoulder.

"I missed you, Snuffles," whispered Harry in a shaky voice. Padfoot offered Harry his best puppy-eyes. Harry, in exchange, rubbed him behind the ears in a display of affection.

Padfoot leaned into Harry, pressing up against his legs. Harry patted Padfoot gently, untangling the black thick fur, lolling Padfoot into a peaceful slumber.

Silent moments passed through, until out of the blue, Padfoot caught a scent of hatred and opened his eyes in alert. No longer feeling the warm weight on his lap, Harry glanced down at Padfoot whose once flat ears suddenly pricked up.

Padfoot defended his territory, as any dominant dog would, standing erect in attention.

"Potter!" A loud snap reached his eardrums, and Harry cursed his luck. "You boy, I said, no more funny business, at all."

Padfoot looked taller than his height, his muscles tense, carrying his tail high in a stiff movement from side to side.

"What did I do now?" Harry inquired with a frown of boredom directed at Uncle Vernon.

The grim growled against his bare teeth, alongside snarling and excessive low-range barking.

"You'll always be a freak, an abomination," hissed Vernon, unaware of what laid ahead.

The aggressive canine shot him a stare to the death, before launching on Vernon with full intention to break him.

"Padfoot, noO!" Harry screamed in alarm, but Padfoot couldn't be stopped from shielding his pup.

To Harry's horror, Vernon had a broken fragment of rock ready in his fist, waiting for Padfoot to take a hopping leap at him.

Vernon was true to his mad intentions: the sharp blow collided with the dog's head, taking Padfoot to the ground with a yelp of pain.

"NO-- leave him alone!" Harry snapped heartily at Uncle Vernon, boiling over.

In response, the inhumane whale of a man got on top of the dog to keep it from using its legs to pull free. Vernon didn't care if his meaty fist would be ripped down to the bones, for it wouldn't be the first time he took that risk.

It was a feeding frenzy to him, truth be told, to watch them suffer.

Harry knew that Uncle Vernon possessed a knack of enjoyment from hurting defenseless animals to the sick peak of heartless torture... but Harry wouldn't let his Padfoot become a newfound victim.

"I said, let him go!" Harry exclaimed in intense anger, before his voice broke a tad, "Please."

Void of empathy, Vernon crushed the dog below its jaw at the base of its skull, ready to crack its neck. Padfoot made a choking hiss, wheezing against his air-hole.

Padfoot's heart-rate picked up at a full race that if it were to finally stop, relief would be the last thing he'd feel.

"I know where to hurt a mutt, to knock it out cold," said Vernon, his eyes set in malicious gleam, satisfaction looming over him.

Vernon hammered the cracked rock against his prey's forehead thrice, to which Padfoot cried out in torment, seeing nothing but white spots.

"STOp!" Harry exclaimed in blind rage, breathing weighty bonfire from his chest.

Just then, nature whistled in his favor, with the soft summer breeze storming against their circle like a hurricane.

In raw desperation, the Potter heir felt his magic unleash from his core, on a ride out of his control.

His accidental burst of magic froze Vernon like an ice sculpture, whose mouth gaped wide and his eyes turned fearful.

Padfoot gave no sign whatsoever before digging his sharp fangs into the motionless hand that had constricted his breath. The tortured dog bit into Vernon's flesh once more and sunk deep, savoring the taste of fresh blood.

The freezing charm melted off Vernon, his chilling scream of pain pierced the silent air.

To Harry's amusement, Padfoot restored his lost energy and sprinted after a frantic Vernon in fascinating speed.

"What's going on?" Dudley asked in a blink, his face appearing from the door. He widened his eyes at the sight before him and ran to his father's aid.

Padfoot attempted to hold his balance, with a low whine, stumbling as he limped over to the distance.

"You might need to chop off his arm," said Harry, to the nemesis he once feared, averting his glare to the deep wound still dripping blood on the grass.

Dudley swallowed back the insult that came easy to the tip of his tongue, battling himself to remain silent. He instead offered a hand to support his father's weight, which was a struggle on its own.

Vernon limped back, his arm on his son's shoulder, slamming the door at Harry's face.

Harry merely shook his head at them, unphased, sprinting off to where he saw Padfoot gone to rack and ruin.

*****
Harry followed the soft whimpers guiding him to his Padfoot, who was now tumbledown with a long gash of blood sprinkling on the black fur, falling to a close by his right eye.

"I'm sorry," whispered Harry, provoking Padfoot to snap his eyes open to check for any lurkers and transform back to his human self.

"You-- shouldn't have come here," rasped Sirius weakly.

"Oh stop it, let me fix this," scoffed Harry, reaching for a handkerchief from his pocket, to which Sirius took it from his godson's hand with a gentle yet urgent touch.

"No, go back to the house," said Sirius, stroking the tissue on the heated slash, to relieve his soreness away.

"I am not leaving you, like this," replied Harry in a heartbeat, his voice firm.

"Ah, yes you are," countered Sirius, his fuzzy gaze activated in a challenge.

"So, you did get a concussion now?" Harry teased with a light smirk. "Yup, that explains it."

Sirius rolled his eyes-- in pain or frustration, he didn't know, most likely in pain since it lingered at a close for a moment too long.

A banging crackle from the bushes took over, making the hair on Sirius' arms stand out.

"It's not safe here, and I can't protect you now," said Sirius lowly, his breaths rapid and shallow. "Please, just leave-- for me."

Piercing silence roamed over them in a tense circle.

Harry frowned in understanding. "Fine," he muttered with a huff.

Once done, Sirius was slumped in regret.

Sirius was desperate to scream at the top of his lungs for him to come back... to be safe by his side, million miles away from that brainless psychopath.

"No, don't go," breathed Sirius, sliding in and out of consciousness.

Harry's shadow was far away into the distance, as Sirius rolled his eyes to a close for the last time.

"Just, come back," was his godfather's last unvoiced words, his face relaxing into silent agony.

******
Harry dreaded every step he took, back to where the Dursleys resided.

Though he felt betrayed and disappointed by Sirius' insistence to leave, Harry would still glance back at his distraught godfather every now and then.

Harry unwillingly tore his longing gaze away from his motionless godfather, opening the door to his doom.

"Boy!" It's a shock that Vernon's voice could ring with that intense malice, when he could barely speak. "Look what you've done, to me!"

Harry fixed his gaze straight, determined not to raise the bait of answering back.

Living off dramatic fights, Vernon was irritated further by Harry's silent indifference.

"No dinner scraps for a week," spat Vernon, his voice firm and condescending, despite the throb he was overcome by.

Harry merely smiled, unnerved. "If that's the best you could do."

Vernon removed the pain-relief salve Petunia was healing his wound with. He left the circle of his concerned family and approached Harry.

"If I see you with that rabid dog again-- you'll wish you had never been born, boy." Vernon raised a finger in his face, threatening his existence.

"He's not a rabid dog--" Harry lost control to break-in defensively, speaking in confidence. "He's my godfather, and he'll make you pay."

"You're mad," replied Vernon, fear swirling in his gaze, as he trembled over.

"I might be, we'll just have to wait and see," said Harry easily, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Vernon, dear-- come, let me wrap your arm." Petunia spoke in a slightly steady voice, her jaw left trembling.

"No one would come to save you," Vernon caught up with Harry, breathing down his neck and sending cold shivers down Harry's spine.

Harry felt the need to hurt his abusive uncle, in revenge and attempt to stand up for himself.

"Am I still mad though? to know that you're heartless-- to beat up even a helpless dog." Harry spoke without thinking first, breathing fire.

Everything happened in a blur--

Vernon physically slapped Harry in the face, yelling and thrashing, to make-up for his egotistical damaged soul.

"I'll show you heartless! I'll make your life miserable..." Vernon resumed his empty threats, until his ranting tantrum was only silenced by Dudley's firm and shocked tone to "just stop and leave him alone."

"You'll be sorry like your life depends on it," hissed Vernon, still shooting an intense yet helpless glare at Harry, as Petunia forced him back to his chair.

That was the last thing Harry registered before he went upstairs in humiliation and disgrace.

Looking over his mirror reflection, Harry placed a trembling hand over his reddish cheek and the other on his aching chest-- observing the mark of torture on his skin and soul, made his emerald eyes glisten with tears.

Harry bit down his distress, to not self-express any weakness, gritting his teeth that a muscle along his jaw twitched.

Harry tried to avoid ruminating over both the physical and emotional slap on the face he just received. No one is coming to save you...

For emotional support and vulnerable comfort, Harry held tight onto his own lily-flower he had taken care of and planted with its basic needs.

Now that he's trapped in solitude, Harry's thoughts swirled back to his long-lost savior.

Not only did Harry expect Sirius to understand on his own the toxic nature of his household, but also Harry hoped his godfather would choose to take him away, especially now.

He had believed that out of all people, Sirius would still save him, regardless of the consequences and even when Harry stubbornly told him not to.

Harry was understanding, however, of the contextual challenges that stopped Sirius from doing what both of them were desperate for.

For each other, they chose to be selfless.

Harry couldn't remain angry at Sirius for long or even at all. Now, on the other hand, Harry was only and mostly scared for his godfather.

Revisualizing Sirius injured and alone, Harry was terrified that his godfather was now left an easy prey-- waiting for his slow death or defenseless against torturing arrows shot to end his existence.

The longest hour had already passed on Harry, since he walked away from Sirius.

Harry sprinted to look from the safety of his window far into the distance of where he'd last abandoned Sirius.

His heart dropped, a knot forming in his stomach, finding no one there.

Harry couldn't handle the possibility of Sirius being captured by death-eaters... or beaten up when he was at such a vulnerable physical state.

Welcoming his impulse, Harry heartily considered running away from the Dursleys to search for his godfather and ensure his safety.

Soon enough, the logical part of his mind found a compromise, reaching for the two-sided mirror.

"Sirius, just tell me you're okay-- Sirius," pleaded Harry in raw desperation.

No answer came.

Only then, did Harry allow his heart to break-- to express his vulnerability.

No answer ever came whenever Harry resorted to follow logical reasoning or safety precautions. Perhaps it was always his calling to live with risk and follow his impulses to get the answers he craved.

Maybe truly no one would come and save him... and it was his fate to protect everyone.

Perhaps it was the right time for Harry to let go of his victim mentality, waiting to be saved, and take matters in his own hands to finally do what he wanted and ensure everyone's protection.

Harry couldn't think of any other worthy reason to run off even to danger, but to save his godfather from uncertain death.

Should Harry run away now and try to save Sirius again --regardless of the deadly risks?

******
Meanwhile, Remus opened the door to a sight that could have easily brought him down to his knees: Sirius had his head slashed open, his breath ragged, his shirt filthy with dried blood and sweat.

"Hey," mumbled Sirius, with a weak smile.

"Hey what?" Remus asked at once, his concern badly-hidden under anger.

"I, uh," began Sirius, his thoughts distorted. "Three blows," he continued with a blurred vision, raising a shaky finger to the sun-baked blood on his head.

Next thing Sirius knew was being tucked in under the bed-cover. "I have a splitting headache," hissed Sirius, tightly pushing his knuckles against the pulsing throb on his forehead.

"You might have a concussion," said Remus, a frown evident on his face. Making sure the wound had in fact closed its gates, Remus worked on countable healing and cleaning enchantments with swift waves of his wand.

"Harry thinks so too," responded Sirius, a faint smile holding up his eyelids from dropping.

Remus summoned a flying bag of icy vegetable. "So, you were with Harry?" He asked in indignation, but still applied the frozen towel on the injury to reduce external swelling.

"Only as Padfoot, relax," replied Sirius, provoking Remus to nod. "I just-- had to be with him, and you know what, I shouldn't have left him after today."

"Sirius," began Remus in a lecturing voice.

"No, don't you 'Sirius' me," remarked Sirius in protest, the pain pounding on his head a mere drop in the ocean of his mental agony... he'd had enough.

"He's safe there," said Remus slowly, watching Sirius struggle to pull himself up.

"You cannot know that," replied Sirius hotly.

Harry, perhaps, was safe from the magical threats that came to his legendary name at a time of war... but there were further tragedies he could be enduring under their so-called protective walls.

"If that wicked sinister demon could beat-up a stray dog," said Sirius, throwing a fit with foul curses. "Then, what would he possibly do to-- Harry?" the words died in his throat.

"Hey, if anything happens to him, Harry would surely tell you." Remus tried one more time, with half-a-heart.

"Would he?" Sirius asked, with a broken stare at Remus, dropping his glance down to his sore hands.

In dead silence, Sirius shook his head, giving himself the answer he dreaded, his heart heavy to the bones. Harry wouldn't be truthful of the abuse.

Remus had no honest answer that would make his friend feel better. "Look, you need to rest," he said instead, laying Sirius down to take refuge in the pillow, to which Sirius reluctantly nodded.

Remus was absolutely sure if he were to be left alone now, Sirius still wouldn't rest for the life of him but would exert his mental energy till dawn. Therefore, with a bright white jet of light, Remus dropped the incantation on him for the bewitched sleep charm to induce temporary slumber.

"No, I have to--" were Sirius' last words before his face sank to the side, with a final exhale, and his eyes closed against his will.

Almost an hour later into the silent night, a tearful voice came from Sirius' pocket calling out his name.

His chest fell and rose in steady motion, on top, his limp hand only shook an inch under the waves of the vibrating mirror.

Unaware of his surrounding, Sirius couldn't even hear his worry-filled godson, let alone answer.

*****
Do you want Harry to run away and find Sirius, again?

Also, do you think Harry should have even attempted to save Sirius, back when he wasn't in real danger in the Dept. of Mysteries?

Manyy thanks for reading, lovelies ♥️

Hope this chapter was worth the wait <3

As always, I'll wait for your precious votes and comments.

Until next time!