I'm trying to write the next chapter of the Revealing Series, but I'm suffering from such a bad case of writer's block, so to try and get over it, I wrote this. I don't think this is my best work at all, but then I say that about everything, so I may not be the best judge on that.

Disclaimer: All recognisable characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling. Not me.

Survivor Guilt

Sirius was dead.

His godfather was dead.

How was he meant to live with himself, knowing that he had caused Sirius' death? It had been him - no one else - who had been lured into a trap, who had taken his friends along with him on a reckless mission and into the line of danger. Though they all found the time to reassure Harry that they didn't blame him, he still felt an immeasurable amount of guilt weighing heavily on his heart. Each of them had gotten injured that night. Bearing in mind what happened to Sirius, Harry supposed he ought to feel relieved that they had survived with nothing but a few injuries, but he wasn't.

It was something that had been playing on his mind, over and over again on repeat, since that night. Who was he going to be responsible for murdering next? Ron? Hermione? The Weasleys? Remus? The more time he spent around them, the more danger they were in. If only they realised that...

Rubbing weary eyes, Harry took a great shuddering breath, trying not to think of that night again, and proceeded to resume packing his trunk. It was the end of the school year, and for the first time since he had begun Hogwarts, Harry found himself glad to be leaving. No matter where he went within the wizarding world, there was always someone shooting him pitying glances, or whispering about him. Though he was dreading his return back to Privet Drive, mainly because of those people he had the misfortunte of being related to, Harry knew it would be beneficial for everyone, including himself. At least there, he wouldn't have to deal with the pity. For once, he was looking forward to being ignored as though he didn't exist.

As he placed a pair of robes inside his trunk, a knock sounded on the door. Before had a chance to open it and yell at whoever had come to try and cheer him up this time, the door swung open to reveal Remus Lupin. Usually, Harry's eyes would light up at the sight of his old Professor, but since Sirius had died, he had taken to avoiding the man. He wasn't strong enough to handle rejection from the last remaining person with a connection to his parents and godfather. It would be too much.

Quickly turning his back, Harry started fumbling with a pair of socks. Barely five seconds later, he felt a hand gently touching his shoulder.

"Harry, stop," Remus commanded softly. "Come and sit down... please."

Sighing heavily, Harry put down a pair of socks (fortunately, they weren't the horrendous mustard yellow pair Uncle Vernon had given him), and sat down, hesitantly, next to Remus on his four-poster bed.

"How are you holding up?"

Harry merely shrugged. He didn't know how to voice the way he felt without sounding completely pathetic. Did he even have a right to feel upset that his godfather was dead when it was all his fault. All he felt right now was guilt; it was his fault, no matter how many times Ron and Hermione attempted to reassure him that it wasn't. Harry wouldn't be entirely surprised if Remus blamed him too.

Remus shot him a sad smile. "I know what you mean. It doesn't feel real, does it?"

"No," Harry whispered, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded.

"I felt the same way when your parents died," Remus said quietly. "For ten years, they were always there. Then one day, they weren't. In the first couple of months after they died, I half-expected James to come bursting through the doors, laughing uncontrollably at a new prank he and Sirius had played, with Lily following close behind, trying to hide an amused expression on her face. It took a long time for it to sink in and realise that they weren't coming back, that I would never see them again. Now Sirius is gone, I find myself sitting alone, continuously checking my watch, and wondering when he's going to drag himself out of bed and attempt to convince me to prank Snape with him."

Remus chuckled weakly, glancing at Harry's pale face. The smile soon faded as his brow furrowed in concern. Harry's eyes looked dull and lifeless, a world away from the startling green he had come to know that were so much like Lily's.

"You know it's okay to talk about it."

Harry kept his head down and remained silent.

"Sometimes talking can help," Remus tried again.

"I know," Harry said quietly, still keeping his gaze fixed on the floor. "I feel so guilty. If I had just learned Occlumency like everyone wanted me to, then none of this would have happened. I killed Sirius. I am the reason he is dead. I - I -" Harry's chest was heaving as he struggled to finish his sentence.

"No, Harry!" Remus said, his voice firm. "Bellatrix killed him. Bellatrix, not you."

"I should have listened to Hermione. I shouldn't have believed the vision. I should have -"

"No, Harry!" Remus repeated, cutting Harry off. "Listen to me. Are you listening?" Harry nodded. "Good. You are not to blame, Harry. If I had been in your place, I would have done the exact same thing. No, I would have," he added at the disbelieving look Harry shot his way. "You checked with Kreacher. You weren't to know he was lying. As for learning Occlumency, yes, you should have, but that was not entirely your fault. Professor Snape stopped your lessons because of a school boy grudge. It was partly our fault as well, for not divulging the truth as to why it was imperative you mastered it. We all had our parts to play in Sirius' death, but it was in no way your fault. Do you understand?"

The weight inside Harry's heart increased - a weight that had appeared the moment Sirius had disappeared behind the veil - but he nodded nevertheless.

"Good."

"D-does it get better?"

Having never known his parents, Harry didn't miss them as much as he would have had he remembered them. The difference between losing his parents and losing Sirius, was that Sirius had been there for three years of his life. Harry had grown to trust Sirius more than any other person, and more importantly, he loved him. Thinking about him and hearing his name caused him more pain than anything else ever had, and he had once had all the bones removed from his arm and re-grown in one night. The pain of losing Sirius was as though someone was sticking a hundred knives inside his heart and twisting them.

"I'm not going to lie and say it won't hurt for a long time because it will, but the pain will lessen with time. It may not feel like it now, but it will. You'll never forget him, Harry, but you will learn to move on. There hasn't been a single day in fourteen years where I haven't thought about your parents. The same will go for Sirius."

Harry closed his eyes, leaning heavily against one of the posts on his four-poster bed. "It's not the same though," Harry whispered. His eyes burned with tears that threatened to fall. "Thoughts can't replace him."

"No, it can't, but Sirius will live on inside your hea -"

"Don't say that," Harry interrupted fiercely, opening his eyes to stare at Remus. "Don't tell me he'll live on in my heart because it isn't enough. All I feel right now is pain, a pain that is fighting to overwhelm me. If that's all I'm going to get for the rest of my life, then I'd like for someone to obliviate me right now. What's the point in remembering when all I'm going to feel is pain?"

He had lost his parents at a young age, been forced to live with people who hated his guts, watched as Cedric was murdered in front of him, witnessed Voldemort's rebirth, duelled with him, and endured the whispers that followed him afterwards when everyone thought him to be a lying, attention-seeking prat. And now his godfather was dead.

Pain was all he knew.

"You can't mean that," Remus murmured, looking sorrowfully at the grieving fifteen-year-old in front of him.

"I do."

With a small frown appearing in the lines of his forehead, Remus stood up, whipped his wand out, and pointed it directly at Harry's forehead.

"Would you like me to do it now?" he inquired, trying to sound nonchalant about it. Harry's eyes widened in stunned disbelief. It was taking all of Remus's willpower to remain calm. "I'll do it, Harry. I'll do it if it means saving you from a lifetime of hurt... but, I don't think you want me to do it, do you? You don't want to forget him."

Harry slumped against his bed post, feeling dejected, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, fighting against his tears. He didn't want to forget Sirius, but he didn't want nor need a constant reminder that he was responsible for getting his godfather murdered.

"No." Harry's voice was barely audible that even Remus, a werewolf with enhanced hearing, had to strain to hear him properly.

Feeling satisfied that his point had been made, Remus stowed his want away, and returned to sitting next to Harry.

"How you are feeling right now is normal, Harry," Remus continued, his voice gentle. "It will get better. Besides, this isn't forever. One day, you will see him again, but it will be one day in the very distant future," he added with a faint chuckle. He was mildly surprised to hear a small snort coming from Harry. Perhaps Harry's guilt wasn't as bad as he originally assumed. "You'll see him again along with your parents."

"I suppose." But not even that held any comfort for him. It wasn't helping ease his pain or his guilt; one day wasn't good enough right now.

With a glance at his watch, Remus sighed and said, "The feast is going to start in a half hour. You should probably start heading down there. I've taken up enough of your time."

"I'm not going," came the immediate reply.

"Why not?" Remus asked, frowning. "The end-of-year feasts are always incredible."

"Not hungry," Harry answered quickly. It was partly true; since Sirius died, his appetite had evaporated. The other reason was pity. He didn't need nor want to see the looks of pity on everyone's face as they watched him eating.

"Okay..." Remus narrowed his eyes slightly. He had the impression Harry was not being entirely truthful but didn't press the matter. If Harry wanted to tell him, then he would. "If you ever want to talk to me, whether it's about Sirius, or school, or just to talk then please feel free to owl me. I don't wan to replace Sirius in your life, but I would like to see you more. Maybe on a Hogsmeade weekend, when I'm not busy doing things for the Order."

With the first genuine smile on his face in a week, Harry said, "I'd like that too."

"I'll take my leave," Remus said, standing up and clapping Harry on the back. "Please try to remember everything I've told you, Harry. It is not your fault, okay?"

"Professor?" Harry called the moment Remus reached the door, ignoring the fact that his cheeks were flushed red.

Remus spun around, amusement evident on his face. "Harry, I haven't been your teacher for two years. It is safe to call me Remus or Moony, you decide with whichever you are most comfortable with."

"Moony," Harry smiled for the second time that evening. "Thanks, you know, for the talk and the offer."

"There's really no need to thank me, Harry. It's the least I can do; you're all I have left."

"I guess we're a right pair then, aren't we?"

"That we are, Harry."

Well that was it. I hope you like it. Review? :)

Oh, and I now have a Tumblr, the link to which is on my profile. If you want to send me a request for a oneshot or want to know anything about my other stories, and don't have an account on here, or just want to do it anonymously, then feel free to go and check it out.