Godfather [harry potter fanfiction]

31 | Harry's Safety Card

"Much better, good doggie!" Remus was about to pat his head playfully, when he got a grumpy glare in response. Remus chuckled, scratching his nose instead.

"Anyhow," Remus rested his back against the chair. "When you pick up Harry from the Express, you can head to Number 12 to get whatever you want. And in the meantime, I'll prepare lunch for three."

"Yeah well, about that..." For a moment, Sirius felt himself shaking in his shoes, with a bundle of nerves. "For two is more accurate."

"Wh-what?"

"Is that a firefly?" Sirius asked distractedly, looking out the window to not meet Remus' surely wide eyes.

"Sirius--" commanded Remus in exasperation, and Sirius sighed in preparation for a moment of truth.

***
Meanwhile, Harry failed to notice that he had spent almost an hour close to midnight in utter silence. He had his arms wrapped around his knees on the stuffed armchair, fixing his gaze at the flaming fireplace.

In the heart of the common room, he was heavenly exhausted from the weight of the past long days, but he just couldn't bring himself to actually fall asleep.

Flashing memories travelled within his mind; whenever Harry closed his eyes, his heart would fill up with shooting flashbacks of his gone parents, his godfather and his relieved friends. Even Dumbledore's warnings, along with the threat of Voldemort, did nothing to ease his worries either.

His heart racing on its own accord, Harry felt uneasy and cold. He rubbed his shoulder, a sharp weight sticking out of his pocket. Taking it out, he admired the two-sided mirror, attached to a short note from Sirius on its technical use.

The first thing Harry had done when he reached his dorm earlier, was search for that Christmas wrapper that had been in his trunk all this time... something he should have done from the very beginning.

Without knowing what he'd even say, Harry called his godfather's name over and over again.

"Sirius, Sirius! Er, Padfoot-- or uh, Sirius Black," he whispered as to not be overheard, glaring at his own reflection when only silent blackness greeted him.

Although no answer came, Harry still spoke in an anxious voice as though his words were heard. "I said I'm sorry, just answer me... please?" But still, he got nothing.

Reaching out and coming back disappointed, he felt even more stressed-out than before seeking any support.

Harry heaved a deep sigh, in frustration with his mind exerting control over him. Not knowing what else to do, he threw his head backward daring his thoughts to just fall off.

At long last, Harry tiptoed back to his dormitory, shutting the bed-curtains behind him. He closed his eyes forcing them to sleep, but his racing thoughts didn't give him a chance. His back against the soft bed, Harry shifted his focus to monitor his breathing in hopes of tricking his unresting mind.

"You alright, mate?" Ron mumbled with a sigh, waking up at his entrance.

Harry meant to nod before remembering he was hidden from sight, so he resorted to mutter a soft "yeah."

"If you need anything, I am here," said Ron quietly, worry still in his gaze, "okay?"

"I know, Ron," replied Harry, a small smile sliding on his lips.

Harry didn't know if it had been a few minutes or mere seconds before sleep started to overtake him, and he blissfully let himself go.

It was only when Harry's breathing slowed down and soft snoring took its place, did Ron relax and adjust his pillow to immediately fall asleep as well.