Disclaimer׃ I don't own Harry Potter

He curled in a small ball. The loud bang echoed above him, and he jumped, squeezing his eyes tighter. His breath was coming in heavy gasps. He wanted to scream, to cry, but he couldn't, it would hurt – he blinked back the tears.

The door flew open at the next bang. The boy visibly flinched, muffling a scream as he curled further into himself.

The steps the man took seemed to thunder toward him, he could practically see his large, beefy hand coming toward him, his purpling face set in stone and - "Harry."

He flinched violently as his eyes flew open.

His godfather was kneeling in front of him. Concern was spread across his gaunt face. He tentively reached out his hand.

The child let a scream erupt from his throat as another noise echoed through the air. His godfather nearly ripped his hand from the air until the boy launched himself into his arms.

He held onto his godfather tightly, his small arms wrapped around the thin mans neck as he shook violently. He hoped this was real; he didn't want to go back. Harry flinched in his godfather's arms as he heard the storm rage overhead.

Sirius pulled the child closer to him as he felt his flinch. He whispered to him softly. It was nonsense words, but they seemed to calm the child down. He felt Harry's breathe calm, but he didn't let go of the child, and he felt the boy's breath hitch as another array of lightening flashed across the sky.

The young man stood up, and the child stiffened in his arms.

Sirius's feet padded softly on the wooden floors as he carried the shaking child. "It's alright." He whispered softly. "We're goin' be okay baby. Alright? It's fine…" He trailed on, his soft murmurs never stopping as he stepped into the kitchen.

He suddenly paused as he struggled to find his wand. He watched as the lights twirled on around them and, as he pulled his wand from his pockets, whispered a spell. The noises from outside reduced drastically as they listened to the muffled booms.

Sirius felt the boy relax, but he didn't move to put him down as he walked toward the stove.

"It's okay Buddy." The man whispered. Several objects began flying out of the cabinets as he spoke. The water began to boil. Harry stared in fascination as the water bubbled, popping as soon as it hit the surface.

Sirius walked over to the table. He made a move to set Harry down on the stool beside them before the child tightened his grip. He paused, allowing the child to reluctantly be set down on the seat. His chest tightened as his godchild looked as though he were being sent to slaughter.

His thin hands picked up the mugs, sitting innocently on the counter. He slowly poured the hot water into the cups, mixing it in with the cocoa. He, amusedly, handed the child his favorite cup – a small blue mug with around a dozen little snowmen painted on it.

The boy took it, sipping it slightly before choking. "Watch it." Sirius said with a laugh. "It's hot!" He blew his own in example.

Harry gave him an annoyed look as he muttered "I knew that."

With a smile, Sirius ruffled him hair, earning a smile from the boy. And he noticed – not for the first time – that the child's face seemed so much brighter, more innocent. He had to tear his eyes away from the child's expressive emerald eyes.

He blew at the cup, watching the steam fly through the air. "Hot cocoa makes everything better, doesn't it?"

Harry merely nodded.

"You want to know who taught me that?" Sirius said, sliding into the seat beside the boy. "Your Uncle Moony lived by that concept. Anytime something went wrong with any one of us, he would drag us to the kitchens to give us a cup of hot chocolate or chocolate milk or whatever. Said it helped make the world go round." He grinned at Harry.

Harry was watching him with bright eyes, drinking the information up. A soft blush graced his features as he realized that Sirius was waiting for him to continue the conversation. He dug deep into his memories. "Mrs. Figg used to give me chocolate." He said shyly, visibly brightening as Sirius sent a smile toward him. "She would give it – milk chocolate, I didn't like dark or white! And – and, I would hide it. And if I ever got hungry or sad I'd eat it! And she'd always give me more!"

Sirius smiled at him fondly, letting the boy ramble on about chocolate. He let him forget about the storm raging overhead. There were times that a child just needed to be a child.

"You want to sleep down here?" Sirius asked as he watched the boy pause in his speech. And his shyness was back as he nodded hesitantly. His godfather smiled at him indulgently, He motioned for the boy to jump off the chair, and the child quickly joined his side, watching as he waved his wand.

Both of their chairs began to fall flat, like liquid. They puffed up slightly – as if bubbling, as the water had earlier, Harry noted – and the shape formed, freezing on the picture of sleeping bags.

"It's not a very good color," Sirius admitted, staring at the mahogany colored fabric in dismay, "but I wasn't about to sleep on a hard floor because the spell wore out too soon."

The child nodded, scuttling over as his godfather patted at the cushioned bag next to him. He lay down, eyeing the ceiling wearily as he listened to the muffled thunder, and watched the flashing lights beneath the curtains.

Sirius pulled the child towards him. Harry curled up beside him, burying his face in his godfather's chest.

And Sirius ran his hands through the child's hair. His own eyes were sliding down – tired. He yawned, attempting to blink the sleep out of his eyes, and he slowly drifted to sleep.