Time Turner Mishaps {Under Editing}

*Chapter 17

So as Remus went to shake his hand again, Harry quickly stuttered, "E-excuse me. I'll just be a moment."

Trying to keep his composure, the war hero held his breath and speed-walked up the stairs. Never stopping until he landed in the familiar bedroom, he had stayed in all those years ago after saving his daft cousin, Dudley. Releasing his breath slowly, Harry sat on the edge of the bed and subconsciously rubbed his lightning bolt scar. It was no longer a curse, or anything more than what it was supposed to be, a wound. A wound that still caused him more psychological pain than he'd care to admit.

"Harry? Are you in here?"

The time-traveler's head snapped up towards the door as it slowly creaked open. He knew who it was before he even saw the deranged grey eyes caused by twelve years in Azkaban. Harry froze, unsure of what to say. He never thought he'd be in the position to say goodbye. Does he start with a 'Hey, how's it going?', or go straight for, 'So, about that time you died...it kinda sucked if I'm honest.' Something told him neither was appropriate. 

"Is that how you greet your godfather?" Sirius quipped, a smirk teasing the edge of his lips, "I thought I taught you better manners than that."

"You taught me to put a dung bomb in Professor Snape's toilet if his hair was greasy."

"Sound advice if you ask me."

The same beaming smile that Sirius always managed to pull out of him during his childhood spread across Harry's face.

"It's good to see you, Sirius," Harry grinned, pulling the man into a hug. 

"You as well, Harry." the Order member smiled, clapping Harry on the back, "Now, what's got you hiding up here?"

Harry sat back down on the bed, refusing to meet his godfather's eyes. It was strange to talk to the man who died right next to him. He can still remember Sirius' lifeless gaze as he slowly fell through-

The time-traveler shut his eyes, not wishing to relive the moment that haunted him for years. 

"It's just...overwhelming." 

"How so?"

Harry shrugged, not meaning to make his last conversation with his godfather so depressing. Sirius stared at the troubled man. Realizing that even though Harry was grown up now, he still needed guidance, and he hated he couldn't have been there in the future when he needed it.

"No one blames you-"

"I know!" Harry ranted, before sighing and throwing Sirius an apologetic look, "I know it's no one's fault except Voldemort, but just because I understand that doesn't make the guilt disappear. I can't even look Remus in the eyes as he thanks me, I don't deserve it. It should be him raising Teddy and soothing his nerves on his wedding day. He should have his father, but he doesn't! It's just...it's not fair."

Sirius sat next to his godson and placed his hand on his shoulder comfortingly. What could he say that Harry hasn't heard thousand times over? How could he even try to understand what the time-traveler felt?

"You should have had your father too," Sirius empathized, "Everyone still needs their parent, even fathers like yourself, Harry. What happened to you wasn't fair, and it was out of your control, just like what happened to Teddy. You both had parents who decided long before your birth to fight in the war. The only difference is that the man downstairs had an amazing godfather who was able to take him in. That is the guilt I carry, and for that, Harry, I am truly sorry."

Harry shook his head adamantly, "Sirius, you have nothing to be sorry for. Sure, I had wished more than anything to live with you, Ella, and Cole, but you still gave me so much. You gave me a family, you supported me, and you told me stories about my parents. Blimey! I even live in your flat!"