Who needs a reason?
Chapter 1: We're different, life's different
Sirius POV:
The summer air engulfed everything within its path, causing the atmosphere to be even more unbearable around Grimmauld Place.
Not to mention the amount of people crammed into all of the rooms, and don't even start with the extra Order members lingering and lulling about the place, seemingly refusing to leave the Headquarters. All of the people and their stupid, uninteresting conversation – which he was excluded from, even if it was to do with the Order, apparently being a wanted criminal on the run, even if you were cooped up in the drabbest house imaginable, made it alright to pretend that he wasn't there – made it even more stiflingly hot. It had to be the hottest summer Sirius had ever experienced.
And to top it off, he was stuck with most of the selfish, arrogant, and annoying people in the world. A.K.A most of the Weasleys. Mainly Molly. She was almost as worse as his banshee, abusive mother for Godric's sake.
Always saying that he needed to listen to Dumbledore – yeah, he's totally the answer to all of my problems. Oh, don't worry Molly, he's my knight in shining armour and I totally don't know that he's stuffing me in here because of my close relationship to Harry. But, no! I have to ignore all the facts that point to one thing about Dumbledore – that he's a massive wanker who decides it's okay to manipulate a child so he could win a war! Of course, I'm going to follow his every word like it's gospel Molly, why wouldn't I? Honestly, that woman is a monster. Not to mention all of the jabs she has at me, saying that I'm not fit to look after Harry since as I've been locked up in Azkaban, rotting away, tearing at my own brain because all of my friends were gone. I mean I was, and still partially am, in a bit of a dark, insane place, but that doesn't mean that I can't look after my godson, thanks.
Remus has been helping me, y'know, getting out of the dark place and slowly creeping back to sanity.
It was hard, when I met Remus again. For all these years, I've known that he would've been alone in life, everyone shutting him away because of his furry little problem. He doesn't deserve it. He's kind, pure, smart, witty, and a friend that everyone needs but doesn't have. He'd never hurt someone, well unless they deserved it. I know that Dumbledore did sort of help him, I mean letting a werewolf in to the school, knowing that he could possibly hurt a member of staff, or even worse, a student (not that Remus would even hurt a fly), and I can't imagine that the Governors were too happy about that particular information that Dumbledore leaped upon them at the start of the school year when they started.
He had to give Dumbledore credit, he stuck up for people when it could benefit him in the future. Growing up to be the perfect Slytherin and pureblood heir meant that you could recognise someone sniffing for blood, for someone to benefit from. He could smell a liar from a mile away without even having to see their treacherous face that normally stank with deception and deceit.
But Remus was different. He knew that Dumbledore was using him; it angered him that he was seen as a pawn to easily be flung across the chessboard, ultimately sealing his fate of death. Having your life in someone else's hands was daunting, Sirius knew that well. His own mother was like that with her abusing him. Dumbledore was also like that, being able to hold something so precious to someone and then ripping it away because you did something they didn't like. Walburga may have hated that wretched man, but she respected him. That was one of the greatest honours in the Black family, to be honoured by the matriarch. And Sirius held very few people in such high esteem; most of them were dead now.
James, Lily, Remus, Harry, Regulus, Hagrid, and surprisingly, Alastor Moody.
That paranoid Auror sure knew when something or someone was amiss. I'm quite surprised that Dumbledore didn't realise that the Moody that was at Hogwarts last year was someone in a disguise. Moody hated Dumbledore with a passion only someone Irish could bear. That man knew his shit.
It really was a short list.
Peter used to be on that list, but then that rat bastard then got himself quickly cut off of that list (literally, I've made the Honourable List a real thing and cut that bitch off of it using a very powerful cutting charm) for his betrayal. It still hurt – the betrayal. It stung more then he thought it would. It hurt like hell every time he thought about it, blinding, searing tears forming at the corners of his eyes, a sharp pang of pain shredding his heart. He was their best friend. How could he do that?
I hastily wiped at my eyes as a soft knock rapped against the old, squeaking door.
"You okay?" Remus spoke softly, head poking round the door, his caring eyes glancing over me, noticing some of the stray tears that escaped my eyes, and timidly walked towards me. His soft hand reached my cheek where he wiped the salty tear away, bringing a strange comfort in knowing that that small gesture meant he was there for me.
"We shouldn't do this." Remus said even softer, gazing in to my eyes after a pause of silence, a knowing look across his face, hand now caressing my cheek.
I peered back at him and replied hopefully, "No one's here to know anything."
That made Remus sigh, annoyed at the fact that I'm right. He leaned down closer to me, faces just inches from each other as I caught his hips, earning a small yelp from him and an embarrassed flush bloom across his cheeks as I dragged him to sit in my lap, faces now even closer together.
"We really shouldn't," Remus tried to reason with himself before I, not even thinking about any sort of consequences, nearly closed the distance between us. Nearly.
Remus jumped from my lap and stood awkwardly, hands fiddling with his jumper sleeve – a jumper that Sirius got for him the Christmas when Harry was born – as he mumbled something unintelligible before sprinting out of the open door, leaving me in a shocked state.
I ran a hand through my long hair, now knowing that I needed to wash it, before I berated myself for trying to kiss the damn cute werewolf.
It's different from school, you utter twat Sirius. We're different. Life's different. Harry's not a little baby sitting on your lap whilst you and his Uncle Moony quickly kiss for the photo Lily was taking, Harry trying to grab her long, flowing red hair. Get your shit together Sirius, you're both proper adults now…well, you might not act like one, but in theory you both are, so don't act like you're both randy teenagers that don't even know what love means. You don't really know what it means until you've lost it, I thought sadly, dragging myself off of my comfy, red bed as I heard that bloody banshee-like yell about dinner being ready. I trudged down the creaky stairs as Hermione beamed up at me.
"Finally decided to come down?" She teased, her smile widening as he teased her back.
They had created a bond since he had been told about one of her shining moments when she set Snivellus on fire. She's a good girl that one, knows what she's doing in life. Hermione's good for Harry. Wouldn't make a bad match them two. Though I'm not sure if Harry's into girls. Of course, I wouldn't know. I've not been around Harry long as Molly keeps lovingly pointing out.
"Decided that the house was made brighter by your presence, so I thought I'd come see Her Grace for myself." He smirked at her as she rolled her eyes at his antics when he saw that ginger, freckly boy (Ron, was it?) keep staring at Hermione weirdly. Well, it was probably meant to be a loving look, but on him it looked like someone placed a bug infront of him, and he was strangely interested in it. Definitely not the way to look at a lady.
But Hermione didn't seem to notice or just didn't care for the ghastly look being directed by her as she brushed past him in favour of getting to the kitchen and sitting at the long, wooden, rickety table placed in the centre of the enormous kitchen area. Food already covered most of the entirety of the wood, plates and cutlery barely able to cling on to the surface as Molly appeared from the cooking area of the kitchen with another overflowing plate of food. Annoyingly, it smelt and also tasted delicious.
Hermione sat as close as she could to him, since as he was at the head of the table, and started to pile a respectful amount of food on her plate. However, the same could not be said for Ronald (is that seriously his? Ha. Seriously!). His plate was piled high and some food was falling on to the wood, leaving marks of gravy where some of the succulent meat had landed.
I internally cringed at his manners (mum's good old pureblood traditions and manners still stuck and ingrained in my head then) as the door opened and revealed Remus who obviously came for a nice quiet dinner, he entered a very embarrassed state as he noted that the only seat left was opposite Hermione's, forcing him to sit next to me.
He looked down when I tried to meet his gaze, he instead began to fiddle with his jumper again as he sat down, his eyes still averting mine. I got his notion that he didn't want to talk to me, hell, even acknowledge me apparently!, throughout dinner and so I decided to continue eating the food on my plate whilst conversing with Hermione every so often.
Nothing much happened of the course of the evening, that was until Mr Weasley came bustling into the room, face red from his apparent running, and his breathing shallow. He had a look of pure horror and shock plastered across his features.
"It's Harry," he started, eyes immediately locking with mine as I stood up and accidently knocked the chair over after it had screeched across the floor, shock and anger flowing through me at the news of my godson.
"What's happened?" I asked him directly.
He sat down at the table, face in his hands, causing me to become more distressed as he wouldn't say anything.
"For Merlin's sake man, talk!" I yelled at him, not really thinking about my actions – I just needed to know if Harry was alright.
This seemed to break his dazed state as he looked at me and then everyone else in the room.
"The dementors got him." He said shortly, gulping loudly before the room exploded into chaos. Many people were now stood, just like me, and yelling profanities whilst others were still sat in their chairs, their knuckles turning white as cream because of them holding the sides of the chair so tightly.
The chaos ensued for another ten minutes before Dumbledore (oh, joy) appeared, out of nowhere (well, it was from the fireplace), and settled everyone with a few blasts of his wand.
"Settle down everyone," he spoke in his usual grandfather demeanour and twinkle in his eyes very present as he scanned over us all. His eyes landed on me, making me want to throttle the man as he, like Arthur, probably wasn't going to say anything very important at first. "It appears that dementors reached Little Whinging and then reached Privet Drive, attacking both Harry and his cousin Dudley." He finished solemnly, face long and eyes downcast.
My blood ran cold at his words, fear and terrible memories of those…ominous cloaks of death that stank of fear flooded my mind. I slumped back in my chair, the weight of everything pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breath. I felt Remus move his hand so that it fell upon my thigh where he squeezed it reassuringly. I felt a little better at his action so I gave him a small smile of thanks whilst Hermione eyed us both and raised her eyebrows at me when I finally turned to see her.
I shrugged my shoulders at her, earning me an eye roll, before I turned my attention back to the Headmaster, who was now sorting out a plan to bring Harry here.
"If we bring him here tomorrow-" Dumbledore started, talking between Mrs Weasley and Moody.
"Tomorrow?" I questioned, a frustrated edge to my tone, "He's back with those muggles, who will hate him, after a traumatising event, and you're just gonna stand there and make it seem that it's alright to leave him there, alone without any sort of contact with anyone, till tomorrow, when he'll be angry because you thought that it would be a good idea to leave him with those magic hating muggles!" I accused, my finger pointing at Dumbledore. I could feel Remus hovering beside me, his hand slowly inching towards my one on the table. I looked at the man beside me before I stormed out of the room as the old coot of a man tried to speak to me.
My thoughts whirring with anger and determination, I hadn't realised that I'd climbed the stairs and had slammed the door, before I, apparently, began to punch the wall, making my knuckles turn crimson because of the blood dripping down my hands. I somehow couldn't stop my fists from colliding with the beaten wall, making it an even deeper red than it was before. Anger poisoned my blood that pumped through my veins, the searing anger electrifying my thoughts and actions, making them volatile and destructive. A sharp adrenalin pierced through my mind, spurring my fists on, almost like they were in a trance and whatever I did couldn't stop them from expressing my pure, blistering rage.
Eventually, the adrenalin rush crashed and my hands cramped up as the pain flooded my hands, a disgruntled noise leaving me. A comforting hand wrapped around my bleeding knuckles with a damp cloth entwined between those hands he knew so well. I looked up to find a watery smile on Remus's face. A pained cry escaped my lips as he tried to stop the flow and clean up the already drying blood.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" He spoke softly to me, concentrating on wiping off the cherry-red substance coating my pale hands, showing a stark contrast between them.
"I know." I said just as softly, looking up at him with thanks as he took away the bloodied cloth to reveal my now snow white hands. "Thanks." I mumbled.
I sighed gently as I flopped on to my bed, Remus following me and sitting properly on the bedding.
I peered at the man next to me as a brilliant (some would say it was stupid and irrational) idea formed in my head, adrenalin gushing back into my mind at the thought of the plan.
"What if we took him?" I asked Remus, trying to be discreet and innocent.
"Took whom?" He inquired properly, astute and wondering gaze focused on me.
"Harry of course!" I grinned at him, a mischievous look in my eyes, conveying exactly what I was thinking.
"No! No! No! We are not kidnapping Harry!" He told me firmly, getting up off the bed and facing me, lips stretched in a thin line.
I gave him the best puppy dog eyes I could, and watched his mask crumbled as he finally let out a frustrated huff as he caved in.
"Fine," I jumped up, elated at the prospect of getting my godson back, "but, we need to think out a plan, and a good one at that. Instead of kidnapping him," my face dropped at that, crestfallen, as Remus gave me a pointed look, "we're going to let the Order get him, bring him back here, and then we'll start helping him."
"And by helping him you mean get him away from that old, wrinkly Headmaster, and finally getting custody of him?" I asked hopefully. At Remus's nod, I pounced on him and engulfed him in a hug, both of us laughing as we fell on to the floor, a loud thud resounding through the worn, rickety halls of the house.
We were going to get our Harry back.