Nobody ever asked my birthday

Chapter 300

Harry Potter found himself at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Again. This time he just wanted to unravel what he was feeling about Sirius Black. He was perhaps the person Harry'd least expected to tell him about Snape's friendships -at least with Gryffindors.

That didn't mean he wasn't still upset, but he was more upset about EVERYTHING and not about something in particular. He was upset at Sirius for getting himself killed, upset at Harry Potter for letting himself get tricked by a Slytherin mind (hadn't Ron said that Slytherins always lied?). He was upset at Snape for goading Sirius into stupidity. And at Snape for pushing at Harry's own guilt, and approving of it.

Yes, he had to learn, had to get better. Not that he was doing a good job of showing it, now was he? Your curiosity is going to get someone killed.

God, he hoped that didn't happen.

Harry promised himself he'd learn. No more. He'd developed quite a habit of poking around after Slytherins. Why did he even need to learn their plans? Dumbledore always seemed to know everything, and Snape was a bloody teacher and Head of House. That meant he had Dumbledore's respect... and TRUST.

Harry's eyes flicked back to Sirius, seeing those brilliant eyes flashing with merriment, his hair - coal black as his name- fluttering in the breeze.

Why couldn't you have been who I thought you were?

Because Sirius had been a bully, and just because Snape was now capable of taking care of himself (and how!), didn't mean that Sirius had stopped. Not that Snape wasn't trying to score points either.

Harry Potter had found the whole thing frustrating (and, truthfully, a bit scary) at the time, and now it only felt worse.

Harry'd wanted a dad, wanted someone he could count on, someone who, most importantly, could get him out of the Dursleys' cold clutches. Harry'd never felt despair quite like being kept in that house after Sirius had died. Headquarters may have been gloomy, but... It wasn't at all the same.

Sirius had died for nothing.

And Harry had to live with that. Sitting down in the center of the roof, he bowed his head over his knees, and cried. Unnoticed by Harry, the lily he was wearing had turned black.

[a/n: Well? I don't particularly like writing about Sirius, but Harry's still grieving him, even if the bloke doesn't deserve as much as he's getting. Ten points to anyone who can figure out what Snape was really doing. As always, reviews make me write quicker.]