Disclaimer: Own only the plot.
This is a very angsty fic, be warned. There is also one slash kiss, but nothing more is even implied. This fic, for obvious reasons, ignores OotP.
The Harry Potter Paradigm
It was late. Harry Potter, however, could not sleep. The black-haired, bespectacled 16-year-old was too busy listening to the groans and yells from the next room. Sirius' room.
It was the holydays, and he had left Hogwarts to stay with his godfather at Grimmauld Place. They would go visit the Weasleys for both Christmas day and New Year's, but would otherwise stay in, just enjoying each other. Probably Harry would enjoy Sirius more than the other way around. The youth discovered having a crush on his godfather when he was in his fourth year, when Sirius appeared at the Gryffindor Common Room fireplace to talk to Harry. His face was rounder, he had regained a little weight, and he was absolutely gorgeous.
The raven-haired tried to forget about this so-called crush, he really did, with all his might (and he was the Boy-Who-Lived, so, it is saying a lot). But he couldn't, and when he realized this he also realized that it wasn't a crush. No, he had had a crush on Cho, and even a little bit on Ginny. But he didn't have a crush on Sirius. He loved Sirius, was in love with him. Which, by all means, only made his life even harder.
Well, now there he was, listening to the man he loved sleep, or, rather listening to his nightmares. Harry wouldn't just lie there while Sirius was having such a bad time. No way! He would go, wake Sirius up, and soothe him. And, maybe, just maybe, he would gather up all of his Gryffindor courage and tell the gray-eyed man just how much he loved him.
So he got up, wearing his pj's, put his slippers on, and left the room. Quietly, he turned the doorknob of the closest room, only to get frightened by a louder moan. Forgetting all about quietness, he snapped the door shut, and ran towards the four-poster bed, on the other side of the room. Harry gently squeezed Sirius' broad shoulders, whispering soft words for him to get up. Quite uselessly, it might be added. Ignoring discretion again, he started to shake the older man, while speaking in a normal volume, "Sirius, come on. Open your eyes!"
That seemed to do it; the man snapped his eyes open and lifted his upper body from the mattress, panting and sweating heavily. His eyes looked on Harry's and he seemed to settle down a bit.
"Oh, it's you Harry," he said, bringing his own hand to his heart, trying to steady the muscle's rhythm. "Thanks. I was just having a nightmare."
Harry decided to use some humor to lighten him up. "Yeah, I got that part. Bet it was a wet dream, huh?"
Sirius smiled. It worked! "I wish Harry, really. It was just… you know, Azkaban."
"Wanna talk about it?"
God! Sometimes, so fucking many times, Harry was the one that seemed to be the adult. "No, it's fine. Sorry for waking you."
"Don't be, I was awake. 've been having trouble sleeping." Harry started gathering some courage, to ask what he wanted. "Uhn- Maybe- Err- Do you thing it would help, if I sleep here, with you?" he tried breaking the effect of the 'sleep with you' with the 'here' in the middle. "I mean, I know it would help me to sleep," he pressed on, "but maybe it would help with your nightmares too." By now his cheeks were burning up.
Sirius appeared to think on it for a moment. "Yes, Harry, maybe it will help. Thanks for offering."
"It's a pleasure." Harry regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. A 'pleasure'! Fucking shit, I sound like a whore trying to get a client!
So the youth climbed on the bed. He did not expect, however, for Sirius to hold him the minute he settled in. He turned his head to face Sirius, who smile. Right there, Harry's heart melted, his brain was sent to oblivion, his skin was set on fire. And, before he got any control over himself, he leant forward and kissed Sirius' pink lips. Surprised, the older man was paralyzed, allowing his godson to suck on his bottom lip lasciviously.
The words left Harry's mouth before he had time to give 'em any thought, the moment his lips broke away from Sirius', "I'm in love with you."
Sirius jaw dropped. He had just been kissed by his godson, which all by itself would make for a completely mad evening. But to hear from the same a confession of love was just parallel-universe crazy.
"Oh, Harry! I… I-"
"Don't. Just don't say anything." The green-eyed youth interrupted. "Let's sleep on it now, and talk tomorrow, OK?" And, without waiting for an answer, he snuggled up to his godfather's chest and closed his eyes. Sirius could do nothing but hold him and try to figure out his own feelings.
Harry woke up early the next day, feeling completely in peace with the world. His nose was touching something warm. Hell, his whole body was touching something warm. So the youth took a deep breath and the most amazing smell invaded his nostrils, his throat, his lungs and his whole body. That smell was Sirius.
The Boy-Who-Lived tilted his head slightly upwards and saw the most breathtaking sight in the world. Sirius was fast asleep. For the next two hours (that seemed both like two minutes and two days), until Sirius' eyes opened, Harry just took what he could of such astounding beauty, thankful to Merlin that he escaped Voldemort, if only to be there that moment.
Sirius woke up very slowly. I took at least twenty minutes for slumber to retreat from his brain little by little, peacefully. The only thing he could feel until he finally fully regained consciousness was the warmth that involved him.
But, eventually, he did opened his eyes, only to find two perfectly round jade beads eyeing him back. The previous night landed on his head with the grace of a blue whale in the desert (NA: do catch the irony there, reader!), momentarily spreading a pulsating ache through the older man's head. The youth, however, didn't notice.
"Hey." Harry said.
"Hey."
"Did you had any other nightmares?"
"Not really. Guess you were right." Well, that was awkward. Great, Black, you're getting better by the minute!
"Oh." Harry said, disappointed.
"Any problems with that? Wasn't that the whole point?"
Other then getting you to shag me into oblivion, yeah, sure. "It's not that. It's just… You're awake."
Sirius grinned. "That tends to happen every morning. Eventually, it happens in the afternoons, but only after a night out."
"Ha ha, very funny! I meant that… well- I was hoping… I could watch you sleep a little longer. I don't want the picture to ever leave my mind. I'll label it 'the most beautiful sight on Earth'."
The older man blushed violently. "Harry, we need to talk."
Harry sat straight into the bed. "Alright." Well, Potter, this is it. No matter what happens, DON'T CRY.
"Oh boy. How can I say this?" Sirius looked at Harry, that had just achieved the color of Nearly Headless Nick. "Uhn… I-I'm sorry Harry, but, I just-" He stopped as Harry held one of his hands forward.
"Just answer this," The youth said, trying not to faint and also to get rid of the lump on his throat. Maybe I should just cut the lump out. Who knows, I might actually cut a carotid. Now, that's a hopeful thought! "Could you ever… love me like that?" Harry paused at the word 'love' slightly. After saying it, he held his breath, knowing that his next intake of air might just as well be in hope or in despair.
Sirius chose the latter for him. "I don't think I could. Sorry."
Harry felt dizzy and sick. "Don't be sorry. One cannot change how he feels. He just does." Now he was definitely shaking. His insides were screaming and twisting. Harry wondered if Voldemort knew how insignificant the pain of the Cruciatus Curse was, compared to this.
The godfather was now really concerned. "Harry? Are you feeling alright?"
The laugh escaping Harry's lips was unstoppable and hysterical, it echoed through the whole mansion and only subsided several minutes later. He just shattered my existence, he takes the reason right out of my life and then asks me if I'm alright! For the love of Merlin! No! I'm not alright. I would rather Voldemort captured me, let all his Death Eaters rape me, tortured me for a few days and killed me, than hearing what you just said. Because, somehow, I could fight that! For the first time, I wish that I didn't go to Hogwarts, I wish I could just kept living in that damned closet below the stairs; so, no, alright is light-years away of how I'm feeling. "I'm fine, Sirius. Excuse me." And he left, locking himself in his room.
The raven-haired boy only came out of his room in mid-afternoon. Sirius decided not to bother him because Harry needed to 'think things over'. That was, however, hardly what he was doing.
When he did come out, he was dressed in a white T-shirt and a faded black pair of jeans. The Boy-Who-Lived had his trunk behind him.
Sirius, seeing this, gaped for a few moments. "Where the hell do you think you are going?"
Harry sustained his angry look with completely lifeless green eyes. It reminded Sirius of Lilly's eyes after her death, when Sirius last went to Godric's Hollow. It saddened him deeply to see that look on Harry, even more considering that it was his fault. And to think that he promised James that he would protect Harry always… But what could he have said?
"The Burrow. I sent an owl to Ron, they are expecting me."
Now what was the boy talking about? "Wait a minute!"
"No!"
"No!"
Harry's shoulders slumped down a bit. "No, I'm not gonna wait. I can't stand it. It- It's too much…"
"What is too much?" Sirius asked, wide-eyed and preoccupied.
"This! This place! This damned place, and your voice and your smell and- and YOU!" he yelled. "It just hurts too fucking much! It is physically intoxicating! I threw up three times already!" He held the same number of fingers in his right hand. You will not cry now, Harry Potter! Get a fucking grip!
Sirius just gaped, but Harry didn't wait for him to get himself together. He just kept descending the stairs and entered the living room. The last thing Sirius heard with Harry in the house was 'The Burrow', when the youth called the destination in the fireplace, and, suddenly, the man was alone.
"Well? Tell me what happened! Why did you had to leave Grimmauld Place?" Ron asked his best friend. Harry had owled him earlier that day, asking to spend the rest of the holydays at his house; Ron's mother was quick to accept, saying that Harry was too thin and, that way, she would solve that problem. So, when the Boy-Who-Lived showed up at his fireplace a few minutes earlier, Mrs. Weasley simply hugged him, no questions asked. Harry thought he would break down right there. But, he mustered his forces and was able to hold on a little longer.
But now, in Ron's room, Harry didn't know how much longer he would be able to keep his tears bottled up. "I... told him." Yes, Ron knew about Harry's feelings. He told him while he was still trying to figure out himself, and the red-head was always very supportive, though he did express concern for Harry would most probably be hurt by these feelings. He was right.
"And he said he didn't...? Well, you can always try and seduce him anyway, ya know."
Harry had to smile. Ron was trying his best to lighten his mood, but that was really no good. "Actually, I asked him if he thought he could ever... love me that way. He- he said no." Tears were definitely finding their way through the youth's face.
"Oh." Ron felt his own heart being squeezed. He hated seeing Harry that vulnerable. I mean, the guy stood up to You-Know-Who half a dozen times! So, the Weasley went to Harry's bed and patted him on the shoulder. "It's OK. You'll get over it, sooner or later."
"I don't know, Ron," he said, by this time he was sobbing. "This isn't like the Cho thing, it really isn't. When he said he didn't love me... Hell, even now, I just wished I never even went to Hogwarts. That's how serious this is. I actually threw up! And I eat nothing today. I... I really don't know what to do anymore. Merlin! I'm such a fucking mess."
Ron had no real answer for that. He never thought that his friend's love was that real, always comparing it to Cho, but Harry was really having a breakdown. And it was also killing Ron to watch. Suddenly, Harry buried his head in the pillow. "Harry," Ron said, tentatively.
"It's my own fucking fault. I forgot the Harry Potter Paradigm!"
Ron was confused. "The Harry Potter Paradigm?"
"Yeah," Harry's voice was muffled, his head never left the pillow. "I believe the correct phrasing would be 'Harry Potter can only have a nice thing happening to him once every two or more years.'." The raven-haired started to slightly shake, and groan on the bed.
Ron, again had no answer. He really wished he could say it wasn't truth. But he knew Harry's life, and it really was truth. First he had to live with those stupid muggles, which brought only disgrace after disgrace to his life. Then, the first nice thing, Harry found out he was a wizard and went to Hogwarts, where he met his friends. But there he had to face You-Know-Who in a painful fight. The same happened second year. Well, third year he found Remus and Sirius, so, second nice thing, happening two years after the first. Fourth year he had to face enormous challenges and was tortured by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Fifth year... well, maybe Cho was a nice thing. This year, then, he would have nothing good happening to him. So, really, it was truth.
He left the room, not being able to take Harry's pain anymore. A tear could be seen trickling through Ron's own cheek.
Harry was left in his friend's room, with only a wet pillow to comfort him, the most beautiful image of Sirus peacefully sleeping, his silky black hair touching his full lips, burned in his eyes.
NA: I am inclined to make a sequel to this. Let me know if you think it's a good idea.
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