Verus

nineteen

12 Grimmauld Place, Islington, London

Sometimes, on nights where the moon waned, when the tormenting fire from its waxing had been stumped out and Harry was left with only an eery calm, his soul would drift. He'd be staring up into the nothingness and would feel his mind give way, as though the very top of his head had just opened up, allowing his every thought even more space to wander.

It was times like those that he settled, stilled, and allowed himself to remember. Remember every memory, every conversation, every single person, every recollection that wanted to cross his mind. Thoughts of Sal often fluttered freely in and out, woven with pain and sadness and grief, but also hope, love and joy. He found the rest of the founders amongst those memories as well, heard Helga's voice titter off through his right ear, felt the brush of Rowena's hand on his neck, imagined Godric's beaming smile staring back at him. Merlin was there, too, though when those thoughts popped up Harry could only focus on his continuous guilt, his anger, the fear.

And, with all of that, he also recalled the fact that he was still a horcrux.

He, himself. A horcrux.

He'd had days- weeks! To sit with it. To acknowledge, accept, and move on. But he hadn't been able to, too obsessed with the idea that Merlin might have been wrong, that there was a way to get the locket back and whatever else Voldemort had defaced his soured soul with. That the man wasn't actually, truly apart of him.

Harry felt his fingertips brush against the shell of his temple, even whilst he still felt as though he was hovering above the rest of him, looking down on himself laying lazily in his room. Though he also knew that that wasn't quite true, it was just a nicer, easier, way to think of it.

He'd spent most, if not all, of his summer searching for a way to destroy the soul piece within him. A quick death had been ruled out, seeing as he wasn't quite so suicidal as one might assume- what with having another person forced into his skull as an infant. Though, he couldn't say that he hadn't thought about it.

It was a simple, quick and easy solution. Would definitely get the job done. But once the thought had crossed his mind, Harry had instantly been reminded of all the people he'd be letting down if he did choose such a way out, and had been forced to hear their many words rattling about inside his head for hours on end after the obvious no had been affirmed.

Stars, even the thought of what Sal would've done if he had followed through with it was enough to make him feel ill. The man would have resurrected him just to go ahead and bludgeon Harry to death himself, cursing him all the while. ("Mindless child, I swear it! Have we taught you nothing!")

A shiver trickled down his spine, rippling waves through his mind.

So Harry figured that he'd just have to learn to live with it or find another way. Though, the books he'd discovered recently really were getting him nowhere. Perhaps...

A light knock caused him to blink.

Sprawled out on his mattress, wide-awake and still in his day clothes after having lost himself in his mindless adventure, Harry tilted his head towards the sound. Sirius was stood in his doorway, shoulder pressed against the old wood, one ankle kicked over the other, he smiled lazily at him.

"Thinking about tomorrow, kiddo?"

Harry's mouth twitched into something almost resembling a frown, he instantly regretted the action though and shook his head instead. "Just lost in thought." He replied to the man, watching the way his godfather's foot toed at a loose floorboard at the entrance to his bedroom.