Chapter 22

                                    

                                          
Harry's POV


                          
When I came around, I was lying on the couch, my head pounding from the fall. I groaned, trying to get up, and my vision blurred.
                          
I heard voices. Familiar voices. 
                          
''Do you think he's okay?''
                          
''I don't know. He usually looks after me.''
                          
''Pfft... Malfoys.''
                          
Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. I looked to the chair nearest to me and there, in all his long-haired glory sat Sirius: or, at least, the painting of him. Draco sat on the arm of the chair next to him and shared the exact same worried expression. I would have laughed if my head didn't feel like a ton of bricks.
                          
"Good, you're okay." Draco let out a sigh of relief and pushed himself up from the chair, walking over to me.
                          
"Yeah, fine." I tried not to let the fact that my head was pounding so loudly that I could barely hear them show. "You're the sick one, you should have the couch."
                          
He looked at me, unamused. "You just fainted, Harry, I'm pretty sure that's worse."
                          
"You're not going to make fun of me fainting, are you? Like in third year with those dementors." I let out a small laugh, wondering how on earth we had gone from that to dating.
                          
He cracked the smallest of smiles, though the worriedness stayed visable in his eyes. "No, I'm pretty sure that this is understandable, since you just saw your godfather for the first time since he... well."
                          
I shook my head in wonderment, looking over at the painting. Sirius smiled at me. "I didn't even know that he had any paintings made of him."
                          
"Well, I couldn't just die without leaving something for you to remember me by. I had it done a couple months before the fight at the Ministry. It's not my fault your friends took so long to find this painting." He frowned, his painted eyebrows pulling together. "God, it was so boring. All I could do was stare at the wall of the room I was in and sleep."
                          
"Why didn't you tell me? That you had a painting?"
                          
"Well that would've ruined the surprise!" He spread his arms out happily. "It's good to see you, Harry."
                          
"You too."
                          
Draco got up. "I'll leave you two to talk."
                          
"Get some rest!" I called after him as he stepped onto the stairs.
                          
"Fine, mother." I could hear the smirk in his voice, and it made me grin uncontrollably.
                          
When the footsteps faded, Sirius smiled at me. "You really love him, don't you?"
                          
"Love?" I coughed. I had been, well, obsessed with him forever and I liked him more than anyone else I had ever dated, but love was such a huge word.
                          
"Yeah. You look at him the way James looked at Lily. All disgustingly sweet and caringly."
                          
"I'm guessing you didn't do that kind of thing?"
                          
"Nah. Love is for weaklings. Just quick flings for me."
                          
I smiled unhappily. "God, Sirius, why did you have to leave?"
                          
"Well, I didn't choose to." He replied, looking just as sad.
                          
"Well, I missed you."
                          
"Missed you too, Harry." he smiled. "Even if you did end up dating a Malfoy."
                          
I instantly felt defensive. "What's wrong with Draco?"
                          
He put up his hands. "Joking, Harry. Look at you, all protective."