27. A WORLD IN PIECES
Sirius had taken to standing up in the middle of the night just to watch the boy he once loved. When Harry was sleeping he could pretend that he hadn't turned into a spineless creature; who always answered the way he thought Sirius wanted him to answer, who hated or liked people because he instinctively knew which people Sirius hated or liked, who seemed to know his innermost wishes and did everything to make them come true, who just wasn't Harry anymore.
Of course he still loved him, he couldn't help but love him how ever much he tried to deny it, but now his desire for this small submissive burned much stronger than his love. Sex. It was probably the only thing they still had in common or would have in common if Sirius was to give in to his urges. But he wouldn't. He may not be able to stop Harry from acting like a slave, but he would not reduce him to a sex slave. No, not Harry.
But this was not his Harry anyway. This was someone else, someone who was so very pleasing that it made him sick to think about it. He had tried to accept it and make the most of it, he had tried to set some general rules so that Harry at least wouldn't behave like a slave, but other than getting Harry to call him "Sirius" once more, his attempts were not crowned with success. Obviously he had a very dirty mind, and Harry knew it.
The first time he had walked into their bedroom, Harry had been naked, sensually draped on the covers, only waiting to be taken. He had told Harry to get dressed. The next day as he stepped out of the bathroom, Harry was kneeling in front of the door, once again without any clothes, and had crawled towards him, his behind swaying in invitation. Sirius had told him to get dressed. The third day he had woke from a blowjob. He had told Harry to get dressed because once again he was naked. By now the first thing he told Harry to do whenever he went into his room was to get dressed. It would have broken the real Harry's heart, but this Harry was only to glad to obey and it broke Sirius' heart.
He had tried everything. He had tried to give Harry very precise orders, but his dirty mind destroyed all his hard work. He had tried to act as if nothing happened, but something like this just couldn't be ignored. He had tried to talk sense into Harry, but he hadn't been able to discover even a hazy shadow of the boy he had loved. He had tried to scare Harry and startle a reaction out of him, but the only reaction he got was tears and endless apologies. It was hopeless.
"Harry? Come on we are going to breakfast," he called loudly and added as an afterthought, maybe more out of habit, "I hope you're dressed."
The still frail-looking elf entered the living room of their apartment with a sweet smile on his lips - he was almost always smiling these days - and thankfully fully clothed. Sirius forced a smile of his own, offering his arm to Harry to prevent him from walking a few steps behind him and silently led him down to the Great Hall. He was thankful that most of the students had already left for Christmas and even more grateful that they would be leaving today as well.
Remus had invited Severus, Harry and Sirius, to spend Christmas with him in Wales where he owned a small cottage. Sirius had been there a few times before he had been thrown into Azkaban, but he didn't remember much of it. He didn't much care either. Maybe a change of environment would help Harry. A feeble, useless hope, he knew that. Nonetheless, he was grateful to his old friend since the thought of having to spend another day in the same room with Harry was close to painful. He was doing his best not to avoid him, but he also had a breaking point and to see Harry like this was like a constant ache, pushing him towards it. But he had to keep himself together, for Harry's sake if not for his own.
"Hey Remus," Sirius murmured quietly, sitting down and pulling Harry down in the chair next to his, least he kneel on the floor. "Everything packed?"
"Yes, what about you? You look tired." The werewolf gave him a playful punch while his eyes shown with concern.
"I'm okay. Harry, please, eat something." Sirius sighed, pushing the basket with rolls towards the younger man. "I guess you haven't found a solution yet?"
"Sirius,..." Remus trailed off uncertainly. "There is no solution. I think it's time you accept this and get used to the new situation..."
Sirius glared at him, but didn't answer. They had had this same conversation too often since Harry had woke up. Remus sighed deeply, exchanging a look with Severus, who suffered almost as much as Sirius under Harry's changed behaviour. On Sirius' strict orders Harry treated the Potion's Master with respect, but that was about it, since Sirius' own animosity made Harry think that he didn't like the thin, black-haired man.
"Our portkey goes at ten thirty," Remus said after a while, gently putting down his knife and reaching for his coffee. "Shall we meet in the Entrance Hall?"
Sirius nodded, reaching for Harry's hand. "Come on, love, we still need to pack."
"Okay, Sirius." Harry smiled compliantly, the other man's name holding more reverence and respect than Sirius would have liked.
It was only another word for 'Master', no longer his name. He groaned.
"Harry, would you mind packing on your own? You can call the house-elves to help you," Sirius asked suddenly, stopping in the hallway.
"Okay," Harry agreed at once. "Is something bothering you, Sirius?"
Yes, yes! You! "No, Harry, I'm fine. I'll come and fetch you later, okay?"
"Okay," Harry said once more and, after a fleeting kiss to his cheek, went back to their rooms.
Sirius waited until he was out of earshot, before he let himself fall against the wall and banged his head back against it repeatedly.
He hadn't expected it to make him feel better and indeed it only added a throbbing headache to the list of his problems.
"Is Master Sirius not feeling good?" a timid, squeaky voice asked and as he dragged his eyes open, he caught sight of Dobby.
"Not really." He smiled wryly, before he shook his head with a wince. "Is there something you wanted, Dobby? Is something wrong with Harry."
"Harry is still packing, Master Sirius. Dobby wanted to ask Master Sirius if he could come with him and Harry?" the house-elf asked hopefully, his tennis ball eyes pleading.
"Sure, if you want to." Sirius shrugged and then sighed. "Harry always loved to have you around..."
Dobby nodded proudly.
"Dobby, do you have any idea what is going on with Harry?" Sirius asked desperately.
"Dobby knows what is going on, Master Sirius," the diminutive creature stated gloomily. "We house-elves know about this kind of bonds, Master Sirius."
"What do you know about this? Do you have any way to help Harry and me. Please, Dobby, I want my Harry back," Sirius begged, crouching down so that he was on eye level with the house-elf.
Dobby shook his head sadly. "Dobby knows this bond, Dobby knows what it is like. It's a house-elf bond. Dobby was under it too, until Harry freed him." Huge tears splashed down his cheek. "Harry was always good to poor Dobby, always tried to help him. But now Dobby can do nothing to help Harry." He sniffed.
"Dobby, does that mean I can just give Harry clothes and he'll be back to normal?" Sirius could barely control the hope that threatened to overwhelm him, but Dobby shook his head so that his ears flapped.
"No, Master Sirius. It's not like the house-elf bonds today and it wasn't intended to be broken. Never." Dobby shook his head again, his eyes watering with tears. "Never."
"But there has to be something!" Sirius all but shouted, grasping Dobby by the shoulders and shaking him forcefully. "Dobby! You have to tell me! I need all the information you can give me. Anything might help Harry," Sirius urged him and Dobby made a visible attempt to calm himself.
"All the house-elves love Harry because he is a symbol of what we lost, what we used to be," the house-elf finally murmured. "When the first elves were forced into submission, they were like Harry, but over the years their power and beauty dwindled and their little elflings possessed less and less of their magic and grace. They became house-elves." He looked earnestly up at the veela, but Sirius was so lost in the world, Dobby's words had conjured up, that he barely noticed the way those words had been spoken: with sadness and melancholy and nostalgia, yes, but also with pride and dignity, not at all like the usual ineloquent babbling house-elves were prone to.
Sirius nodded encouragingly to make him continue and Dobby heaved a huge sigh. "Elves are not supposed to be bound, they need their freedom because they are like nature itself - untamable, wild and free. You cannot force the love of an elf, potions and spells are useless, it is given freely or not at all. Love Bonds don't work on them either, unless they already loved their bonded and so the wizards and witches, who wanted the pleasure of owning an elf, invented this bond. Not to protect, but to possess, forcing not love, but obedience.
"Today, no one would want to touch us sexually and thus, the wizard invented another bond, another kind of slavery. A weaker bond to bind weaker creatures and a bond from which we can be released under certain circumstances."
"What does that mean for Harry?" Sirius croaked. "If we can't break the bond, can I still release him from it? Can't you think of something I could do...?"
"Dobby only knows one thing: If Master Sirius doesn't find a way, Harry will start to lose himself, his powers, his magic, his mind and his heart." Dobby sniffed, before he plopped away, leaving Sirius in a state of desperation and fear.
He couldn't quite say when he had come into closer contact with the cold stone floor, nor when he started to cry into his hands, but when Remus came looking for him, he had calmed at least in so far that the werewolf's concerned questions registered with him. Not that it helped much. No, he wasn't okay. Yes, it had to do with Harry. No, he wouldn't give up. Yes, he knew that no one had a solution. No, he didn't know what to do either. Yes, he would eat more. No, he would be fine as soon as Harry was back to normal. Yes, they had talked about this already. No, he hadn't changed his opinion. Yes, he was going to be sick.
And then he threw up all over Remus' robes, dry-heaving when he had emptied his stomach. No, he was not okay.
He had never felt quite so pathetic in his life, though sometimes in Azkaban, in his dirty, cold, little cell he had felt close enough. Remus was patting his back comfortingly, murmuring something that Sirius was not sure were actual words. And all he could think about was Harry, that Harry wasn't there to comfort him, that it weren't Harry's arms wrapped around him, not Harry's voice that soothed him.
"Harry!" he cried out and Remus' arms tightened around him.
"Sirius, I know this is hard for you, though I don't think I fully understood how hard." Remus rocked him like one would rock a baby or a distressed child. "But maybe, and please don't flip out again, it would be easier for you and Harry if you learned to live with this. I hate to see you wasting away. Believe me, I don't like this anymore than you do, and I wish that we could have our Harry back, but it's just not realistic." Remus pulled back slightly, making him look up at him. "I'm your best friend, Paddy, am I not? It hurts me to see you like this and it hurts Harry. Don't take away what little happiness he can still feel, Sirius."
"It's just not fair," Sirius whispered brokenly.
"I know." Remus sighed. "But for Harry's sake at least, try. You aren't helping him with pushing him away. Maybe you can learn to love this Harry as well."
"This Harry is like me," Sirius growled bitterly. "I'm not that self-centred or narcissistic."
"No, Sirius, this Harry is everything you want him to be," Remus argued. "Just try to treat him like the old Harry, and maybe you will be surprised."
"Fine," the veela grumbled, keeping what Dobby told him to himself; no use in worrying Remus even more, he was already upset enough because of his cub.
"Let's go, okay?" Remus attempted a smile as he stood up and held out his hand to help Sirius to his feet. "Harry and Severus are already waiting in the Entrance Hall, and the portkey will be activated soon too."
Sirius nodded, straightened up, drew back his shoulders and held his head high. No, he wouldn't give up, but he wouldn't despair either. There had to be a way and until he found it, he would try to heed Remus' advice.
Harry sent him a brilliant, mindless smile as they approached the two black-haired wizards, and Sirius, true to his recent decision, opened his arms for him and scooped him up. "Ready to go, sweetheart?"
"Yes, I'm ready." Harry smiled, nuzzling his neck. "I love you."
Sirius clenched his hands into fists. "I love you too, Harry."
Remus motioned for them to take a hold of the portkey after he had shrunken their belongings, they were whisked away only to land seconds later in Remus' living room.
Sirius had to admit that it had changed quite a bit from what he remembered. For one, there was actual furniture instead of the odd boxes that used to constitute as sitting opportunities and tables. The walls were now covered by light chocolate brown wallpaper that actually matched the dark wood of the two armchairs, the sofa and the low coffee table. The previously half empty book-shelves were now filled to the brim with books and rolls of parchment, and the colourful pillows which used to lie scattered around the room had been replaced with dark brown and cream coloured pillows that sat on the sofa. The windows also had curtains in front of them, and the bare stone floor had been covered with a fluffy coffee-brown carpet. Everything looked a little worn and used, there were deep scratches on the surface of the coffee table and a darker spot on the carpet near the desk, but it was still very cozy and homey. Sirius thought it was boring, but he kept his tongue and just nodded approvingly.
Remus showed them their rooms, and Sirius almost laughed out loud at the fact that he had given him and Harry separate rooms. Harry didn't seem to mind though and just outright ignored the invitingly held open door to his rooms and followed Sirius into his. The expression on Remus' face made Sirius burst into laughter for the first time in days, no, weeks and though the werewolf looked affronted and irritated, his eyes softened a little and he didn't protest too much. It was useless anyway since nothing but Sirius' order would compel Harry to not share his room with him and Sirius was smart enough to know that this would hurt Harry and so he chose to see the humour in the situation.
For a moment, he almost believed that a bit of life returned into Harry's eyes as he laughed, and he hugged the small elf to his chest before he could realise the error of his observation.
Remus scowled at them some more before he cleared his throat. "How about lunch in an hour? Severus and I'll be down the hall if you need anything."
Sirius nodded, taking a deep breath of Harry's hair that smelled vaguely like warm milk with honey. "We'll be fine. Don't worry."
Remus returned his nod, but they both knew that nothing was fine and that it most likely would never be fine again. He softly closed the door, leaving Sirius and his cub alone. Sirius enjoyed the warmth of Harry's delicate body for a moment longer, before he drew back reluctantly.
"Is there anything you would like to do?" he asked gently, cupping Harry's face.
The once vibrant green eyes stared into his, trying to find the answer to that question, and he sighed, absently tracing the shell of Harry's pointy ear with one finger. Harry giggled softly, and Sirius' heart felt a little lighter. He carefully sealed Harry's lips with a warm kiss, saving the small elf from answering.
"Merlin, Harry, do you know how much I love you?" He moaned as Harry innocently pressed closer to him - or maybe, judging by Harry's new nature, it might have been cold calculation just as well.
"I love you even more," Harry replied.
"No, Harry, I love you more," he argued sadly.
"Aren't you satisfied with me, Sirius?" Harry asked in alarm. "I'm sorry, please, I'll try to love you even more. Please, I'm sorry, but I already love you with all my life, with all my heart, with all my soul. I'm sorry if I'm not enough, Sirius, I want to please you. What can I do? I'm sorry, Sirius -"
"Harry, enough of this. Calm down." Sirius shook his head unwillingly. "You did nothing wrong, do you understand? You have nothing to blame yourself for and you don't need to apologise either."
"But... but I made you upset." Harry sniffed, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, his whole body trembling. "I shouldn't make you upset."
"You know what would make me extremely happy?" the veela decided to change tactics, and Harry's seemed a bit more hopeful and eager, "To hold you in my arms and feel your heartbeat and your breath on my skin. Let's go downstairs and find out if we can enjoy the warmth of a crackling fire. That's supposed to be very romantic, right? Come on."
He didn't wait for an answer and instead tightly clasped his hand around Harry's and led him back downstairs - he hadn't known that acting like nothing was wrong would be so demanding!
To his surprise, the living room was not as empty as he had expected and he spotted Severus and Remus snuggling, if the Potion's Master was capable of that, in the cozy, slightly worn armchair, as it seemed also enjoying the crackling fire in the fireplace. He muttered a tired greeting, and Harry smiled at Remus, more or less ignoring Severus, whose face had become an impenetrable mask of indifference. Sirius had assumed that the hook-nosed wizard would get up from where he was sitting half on the arm of the armchair and half in the werewolf's lap, but instead he only shifted a little, though he looked uncomfortable. He would have laughed if that sight wouldn't have reawakened the longing for his Harry, who would have loved to snuggle with him, and he felt envy rise in his chest because Remus and Severus still shared that love he would most likely never experience again. He wanted to be this close to Harry and he didn't mean the physical contact, but the emotional closeness he could practically see oozing off of them.
"Why are you glaring at me, now?" Severus asked suddenly, his voice smooth, but with traces of bitterness as he locked his eyes with Harry's.
"You are making Sirius sad," Harry answered without hesitation, returning the glare.
A sneer curled the thin man's lip, but Remus only looked sad and he appeasingly rubbed his hand up and down Severus' side. He must have said something along the lines of showing compassion and being considerate, because in the next moment Severus' temper flared and he jumped up, angrily knocking the amber-eyed man's hands aside.
"And what about me? Do you even care how I feel? Everything is about Black nowadays, his feelings and his broken heart and his depression. I'm sick and tired of being considerate and understanding and forthcoming and helpful! Guess what, Black is not the only one who suffers from this situation. Did you for one moment think about how hard it is for me that Harry hates me now just because of Black? No, of course not, because Black now has a devoted slave and that is so much worse than having your best friend suddenly hating you! I tried to be nice and compassionate, but all I got from you was more whining about how bad Black has it and when I, for once wanted to talk about something, you had to remind me how hard this is for Black!
"I thought that perhaps you would get the hint some time and realise how much it hurts to talk about Harry and how much it hurts to see him glare at me every chance he gets, but the only thing on your mind is Black, Black, and once again Black! All I wanted was for you to take one moment to comfort me, to listen to me and to come to me when I needed you, but you were of course always with Black. It's obvious were your priorities lie, and I'm finished being pushed aside, you can find someone else, Lupin. We're over."
Remus' face shuttered as Severus turned to the fireplace and disappeared without a backward glance. He truly hadn't noticed how much Severus was hurting, how much it pained him to lose Harry and essentially Remus as well. Maybe his brotherly love to Sirius had gone too far, but all he wanted was for everyone to feel better, and Sirius was hurting the most obviously. Severus would have hidden his feelings, he wouldn't have said anything with words, but of course, it was hard for him as well. Sirius at least had a Harry that loved him, but Severus didn't have anyone, especially as Remus had so crudely abandoned him.
"Maybe you should follow him, Moony," Sirius suggested gently. "As much as I hate to admit it, but I think he was right. If I were in his place I would feel pretty awful as well, and Snape doesn't strike me as someone who has a lot of people he can confide in. You, Harry, maybe Dumbledore, but that's it. And if two of those people aren't there for him anymore... Just go find him and apologise, okay, Remus? And tell him that I'm sorry as well. None of us wanted this."
Remus nodded slowly, getting up as if a huge weight was pressing him down. His face had turned ashen and his eyes had become glassy as if he would start to cry any minute. Sirius carefully pushed him over to the fireplace and offered him the box with Floo powder. As if in trance, Remus took a small handful after a moment or two. His voice was raspy as he stated his destination and Sirius had to support him as he stumbled into the fire and disappeared.
"Sirius?" Harry's small voice startled him, and he turned towards the little elf, who had grown his wings which were now fluttering nervously, not sure if he should protect himself or await his punishment.
Sirius nodded to show that he was listening and heavily sat down on the sofa next to Harry.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. "I'm sorry I made Remus leave and you so sad. I'm sorry, but we don't like Snape, do we? Please, I'm sorry."
"No, Harry, I don't like Snape very much, but Remus does. And Snape likes you a lot and when you're mean to him, it makes him sad and that again makes Remus sad. Do you understand?" Sirius felt like he was explaining something to a little child, something that was understood, like that you don't just pull away your glass when you don't want anymore juice.
"But we don't like Snape," Harry protested meekly. "He's an antisocial git, who lacks body hygiene, has no sense of humour and likes to make people feel miserable, right?"
"Do you think Remus would like him if he was exactly like that?" Sirius decided on the diplomatic approach, since he couldn't very well say that he disagreed; those were his thoughts, might they be true or not.
"People make mistakes," Harry said uncertainly. "He could get someone better than Snivellus."
"Harry, I don't want you to call him that, I told you so," the grey-eyed man chastised, and Harry whimpered and looked fearfully up at him.
"I'm sorry, Sirius, I'm sorry."
"Yes, I know." Sirius sighed. "We cannot help who we love, Harry, and Remus thinks very highly of Snape, so we have to be nice to Snape or we'll hurt Remus."
"But he was making you sad," Harry argued weakly. "I could feel it. He deserved to be sad as well!"
"Harry, did you feel his sadness?" Sirius asked, almost hopefully, though he wasn't sure what difference that would make.
Harry nodded timidly. "Remus was really sad before he left as well."
"I don't want you to make anyone sad, okay, Harry, not even Snape," Sirius ordered, and Harry nodded mutely. "And I expect you to be nice to him as well and I don't mean that cold politeness you have shown him recently because I'm sure you have noticed how upset he was because of that."
Harry nodded again, bowing his head to his chest so that Sirius wouldn't notice his tears because that would make him sad and he wasn't allowed to make anyone sad, least of all Sirius. Though Sirius had once told him to tell him if something was bothering him. He wasn't sure what he should do now, but he decided to keep to the more recent order, ignoring the sharp pain that flared through his whole body for disobeying his master. He needed to be punished, but Sirius said he would never do that and so it was Harry who needed to punish himself. But he couldn't let Sirius see or his master would be upset.
"Sirius?" he asked softly, keeping his head down. "Am I allowed to go to the toilet?"
"Of course." Sirius nodded with a smile, seemingly relieved that this conversation was over and that he had made him understand. "You don't have to ask my permission, but I'm glad that you told me where you are going."
Harry ducked out from under his arm and hastened up the stairs. He wasn't sure what he should do. His relatives had always liked to starve him or lock him in his cupboard as a punishment, but both forms were not an option right now. Sirius would surely notice if he just disappeared and isolated himself for a several days, and he wouldn't like it and ask Harry question he wouldn't be able to answer without hurting him.
Starving wasn't a possibility either because his master, even though he wasn't allowed to call him that anymore, had made a point of reminding him to eat at every meal and though he had managed to eat less sometimes when his master wasn't paying attention to him, it was not enough to warrant as a suitable punishment for such an infringement.
Aunt Petunia used to burden him with chores, but he didn't know what he could possibly do in this unfamiliar house and with house-elves doing all the work. He uncertainly looked around himself, trying to find a dirty spot on the wall or cobwebs in the corners, but there was nothing for him to clean or scrub.
His uncle sometimes hit him when he had done something really bad, and Harry suddenly wished for him to be there so that he could deal out his just punishment. Now that he didn't have his uncle to rely on to put him in his place, he wasn't sure how he should go about disciplining himself.
An image of Dobby hitting himself in the head with a lamp crossed his mind, but he knew that he couldn't leave any visible damage or his master would be even more upset, like the one time he had found the deep lashes on Harry's arms, stomach and legs that he had inflicted on himself for being unable to fulfil his master's desires.
Tears welled to his eyes as he thought of the fleeting touches. That was all his master would give him nowadays. It was clear to him that his master didn't want him anymore and that therefore he had done something incredibly wrong. He had tried everything to revive his master's lust, but he was well aware that Sirius' small signs of affection were more of an obligation to him than anything else. Was he such a bad slave that after only a few weeks his master had grown tired of him? Merlin knew, he tried to please Sirius, but whenever he did his master pushed him away and told him that he shouldn't be doing something like this. But what other use did he have? He had attempted other ways to make Sirius feel comfortable and good, had massaged his feet, read out to him, given him a backrub, cooked dinner, sung to him and all in all tried to be entertaining and helpful, but his master didn't like that either and told him to stop. What good was he? He was a burden to his master, a nuisance, a responsibility he didn't want. Why didn't Sirius just get rid of him?
He was tempted to run back down the stairs and demand answers to those questions, but in the same moment he became aware that he wasn't free to do so. He felt a rush of resentment wash over him at the thought that his freedom had been stolen from him just to please the flimsy desire of a veela and that he was now to waste away. Rebellion rose in him. It wasn't his fault that Sirius didn't want to admit to himself that he wanted Harry, it wasn't his fault that he gave him mixed signals, it wasn't his fault that he didn't know how to punish himself.
Sharp, needle-like pain pierced his soul, made him crumble to his knees in a pathetic little heap. Harry's throat escapes a small whimper as he futily clawed at his chest in hopes of alleviating this pain, to let it out of his body. But it was no use and the needles in his heart and soul ignited with painful fire, searing deeper and deeper until they were but a cavernous entity with no other purpose than hurting him further. And it hurt, so much that it was hard to breathe. His vision blackened, there was a dull drumming in his ears and his fingertips as they glided over the tiled floor before once again scratching over his chest and arms. Nausea reared its ugly head as his stomach churned under so much pain, seemingly trying to twist away from the hot needles, and he hardly had enough strength in his arms to keep his head out of the vomit and bile that he heaved up.
I'm sorry. The raging pain inside his body didn't die down, but now he almost welcomed it because he knew that he deserved it, deserved to be punished for his disobedience and his short-lived rebellion. He loved Sirius, his master. He loved him with everything he had and he had no right to blame his shortcomings on this strong and beautiful mate. What good was freedom without his Sirius? He was aware of his weakness, he knew that he was dying, but as long as he lived he would do anything to make his master happy and his last breath, his last heart beat would belong to him. Sirius was his everything.
He gratefully succumbed to the darkness that seemed to take away some of the pain, almost soothingly caressing him like Sirius' fingers had once done when he had still been loved.