Harry realised that he had been holding his breath. For how long he didn’t know. He could feel his hearth hammering in protest at the lack of oxygen. He also felt the adrenalin pumping through his veins, making him almost light headed.
He finally forced himself to take a breath, afraid that doing so would disturb the vision that he was having and that Sirius would disappear. But that didn’t happen. He found that his throat was dry and he was almost incapable of speech.
“Sirius,” Harry whispered, “Is it really you? This isn’t some dream is it?”
His godfather sat in the recessed shadows of the armchair, his elbows resting on its arms, his fingers joined in a pyramid, over which he intently watched Harry in silence.
“Sirius,” Harry said again in a stronger whisper “ his voice containing a note of urgency, “Please, just say something.”
Still, no reply came. Sirius continued to regard Harry silently from beneath his long and rather messy hair. As the excitement and fear that Harry was experiencing started to give way to shock of seeing his dead Godfather, Harry for the first time realised that Sirius was looking at him through narrowed and calculating eyes.
Harry was forcefully reminded of how Sirius looked whenever he was in the company of Professor Snape in Grimmauld Place. It was a look of loathing and of barely concealed animosity.
Harry felt uneasy. Everything was far too surreal. He still couldn’t be sure that what he was witnessing was really happening. He thought of pinching himself, but found he really just wanted Sirius to say something to confirm what he was seeing was for real, so he tried yet again, “God Sirius, just say something. Please, I don’t understand how I am seeing you here. Speak to me damn it.” Harry found his temper coming to the surface quickly and unexpectedly.
Slowly Sirius lowered his hands and continued to regard Harry with the same narrowed expression. “What is it you are waiting for me to say Harry?”
Harry had jumped at the sound of his Godfather’s voice. While there was no doubt that it was the voice of Sirius Black, it nonetheless sounded much colder than Harry remembered.
His Godfather continued, “Well, well. I suppose I should have expected as much. You are waiting for me to say something that will reassure you that you can complete this task that has fallen to you. To tell you are strong enough to take on the Dark Lord and Win. I suppose you want me to tell you that it was all meant to be - my premature death, the death of your parents… Is that what you want Harry?”
Harry was having difficulty getting command over his mind and his senses. It was too much to take in.
He had so many questions, yet before he could stutter a reply, Sirius continued, “Yes. I see it now. Your eyes belie what it is you want from me, what you need from me - one final reassurance from beyond the grave. Oh yes Harry, because I am beyond the grave. I have not been miraculously restored to life or anything,” he said, giving a short harsh laugh that made Harry retreat further from the table.
Sirius’s harsh words were like the sting of a whip to Harry’s emotions. He didn’t know how to respond.
Sirius spoke again, “No Harry. I cannot give you any such reassurances. A life of ease and freedom unfortunately, is not for you. Things must go full circle Harry, or haven’t you realised that yet?”
“Sirius” Harry mumbled, trying to find his voice amid the chaos of his mind “I… I don’t know what you mean, what are you saying? Why am I seeing you if you are really dead? Are you haunting me? I just don’t understand.”
Sirius laughed again shaking his head. It was an unpleasant sound.
“Haunting you Harry? Are you sure that it is not the other way around? It seems to me that it is you who have been haunting me all these years. You have been haunting me, and eventually lead me to my death as I sought in my own misguided way to protect you.”
Harry sank to his knees shaking his head, “Don’t say that Sirius, please don’t talk about..that,” he whispered.
“Don’t talk about what Harry?” Sirius persisted, “My death? I know you have been thinking about it all summer. Of course you have. You feel responsible for my death, despite what everyone said. You probably need me to tell you that it was not your fault.”
Sirius paused and looked at Harry “ a cold hard look of hatred in those eyes, “But I cannot lie that easily,” he continued, “I don’t think it would be fair on either of us. Full circle Harry. Come on now, think about it. The wheel must come full circle.”
Sirius gazed off into the distance and continued talking, “Would I have died had I never known you existed?”
“Of course,” he continued, “everlasting life is not an option for mere mortals. But would I have died as prematurely as I did? Now that is unlikely. As I say you were haunting me before you were born. You had a direct influence on the path that my life took. And yes, you had a direct influence on my life being taken from me.”
Harry felt the room reel as his senses were assaulted with what Sirius was saying. It couldn’t be true. Sirius would never say something like that. Yet the undeniable truth was that his godfather, Sirius was sitting before him confirming his worst fears. He, Harry, was responsible, solely responsible for his godfather’s death.
Anguish took over and Harry buried his face in his hands and groaned, “No. Stop it Sirius, Please don’t say that, ……please.”
Harry felt the tears begin to leak through his clenched fingers. Sirius seemed to have stopped talking; Harry could vaguely see his Godfather studying him over the tips of his fingers. His vision was blurry from tears and another sound was beginning to break into Harry’s consciousness. Another voice, a worried voice.
“Harry, stop it, you’re beginning to scare me mate.” Harry felt a hand grab his arm attempting to pull it away from his face. Slowly and fearfully, Harry moved his hands away from his face and opened his eyes to find a white faced Ron, sitting at the edge of his bed, staring at him, wide-eyed with worry.