Live Forever

7: Whatever - Part 1

Whatever you say, whatever you do, I know it's alright

August 28, 1995

It had been less than twenty-four hours since Harry had learned of his predestined fate, but in truth, it felt much longer. Much, much, longer. He felt Buckbeak nestle his head in a bit closer and began idly running his hands over the hippogriff's head, reveling in the softness and warmth of his feathers. Buckbeak gave an affirming noise of contentment and Harry dug his hand in a bit further, thankful for the company. He'd always wanted a dog growing up and reckoned this was as close as he was going to get for the foreseeable future. He tried to ignore the fleeting thought that his foreseeable future was most likely going to be very short and, most likely, very bloody.

He was brought out of his brooding by a quick knock on the door before it was thrust open. It was Sirius, looking slightly worried and holding a plate. Buckbeak made a small noise of greeting as his godfather slumped down beside him and offered him the food.

"The next time you hide from us, could you at least do it on one of the lower floors? It's been a wrench trying to find you, and my knees are killing me," he said.

Harry chuckled. "You could have apparated," he replied as he took the offered plate.

"I wouldn't do that to Molly. She already thinks of me as a slightly older version of the twins, and I don't want to add to that perception by apparating from room to room."

"I think Fred and George are brilliant," Harry countered, a bit more angrily than he intended. He knew that Sirius didn't deserve that anger...that he was actually grateful for the help that his godfather had provided...but he couldn't help himself. It was why he'd shut himself up here in the first place. No-one else needed to have to worry or deal with what he'd discovered. It was his burden to bear.

Apparently Sirius didn't detect the anger or purposely chose to ignore it as he plowed on, pointing at the plate. "You should eat."

"I'm not hungry," Harry lied, placing the plate on his lap, amused at Buckbeak's intense interest in his supper.

He'd expected Sirius to call him on his lie, to point out that he hadn't eaten since noon and that it was a virtual impossibility that he didn't find the corned beef sandwich in front of him the least bit appetizing. But Sirius remained quiet, staring at the wall and leaning into Buckbeak's side.

"My parents chucked me in the summer after my sixth year? Did you know that?"

Harry shook his head no.

"I can't even remember what started it. We'd rowed so many times over the years that the arguments have all sort of faded together over the years. I probably said something stupid...I don't know. But this argument kept going and became much more personal; a kind of last stand."

Harry remained quiet, sensing how difficult it was for Sirius to share this particular memory.

"It had all been a bit of an abstract concept up to that point, I suppose. My parents had been upset from the off when I was sorted into Gryffindor and took up with the Potter blood traitors. I thought my parents' views on muggleborns were ridiculous and told them as much whenever the subject came up, but it was always a bit of a laugh for me...a way to feel superior and wind them up a bit. But that day, for whatever reason, our argument escalated, and my mother said I had to make a choice. 'It's either us or them' she said. She was furious, but I still didn't get it. I still thought it was a game. I thought there was no way they would throw me out. So I took a side, and they chucked me."

Buckbeak let out a soft wail of sympathy. Whether or not the hippogriff actually understood the words, it was clear that he felt the pain behind them.

Sirius shot him a weary smile. "Actually, I think I'm underselling it. Before she chucked me, Mummy tortured me with the Cruciatus in front of Reg."