Harry looked around his new room, overwhelmed. It was as large as the Dursleys' living room and decorated with Gryffindor wallpaper. A king sized bed had been placed in the centre with a small nightstand on either side. There was a closet just waiting to be filled in. The carpet felt soft under his bare feet and everything was just perfect. His friends would have given anything to have a room like this.

Only yesterday, he had been starving in that little room which had been given to him by the muggles. This morning, when Sirius had come to pick him up, he'd been elated. The first five days of his summer had been absolutely deplorable. His stomach rumbled since he hadn't eaten anything other than some bread and cheese last night.

"Pup?" His head whipped towards the door at the unfamiliar term of endearment. "Come on downstairs, lunch time. I don't know about you, kiddo but I'm ravenous." Although the words were pretty normal, they were completely different from what Harry was used to.

As the house elves placed the food on the table, Harry clenched his hands so that he wouldn't reach out and grab whatever he could. He hadn't eaten a decent meal since the year end feast at Hogwarts.

"Don't you like it?" Sirius asked and he realised that he hadn't touched his food. Hastily, he took his spoon and shoved a big bite of pasta into his mouth. This was so good! He literally wanted to cry! The pasta was the first proper meal he'd eaten in days. Without realising it, he began to shovel the food down at an alarming rate. This was just so tasty!

"Slow down there, Harry. You'll choke! We have all the time in the world; it's the middle of summer. Take your time." Sirius gently pried the fork from Harry's hand and set it down on the table. Harry's ears burned with embarrassment. This happened to him almost every single time. Every year, when he returned to Hogwarts, the food smelt so inviting that he would eat until he felt sick. He just couldn't help himself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, clenching his hand. "It's alright, pup, don't worry about it."

"If you want, after lunch, Ron can come over and you'll can hang out or even have a sleepover." Sirius suggested.

Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his head at the suggestion. Sirius just kept getting nicer and nicer with each passing second. Slowly, he finished his food and the plates were cleared away. "He's actually on holiday right now." Harry admitted, feeling dejected. "No matter, he's always welcome once he's back."

"So, how have your school years been?" Sirius asked and once again, Harry was surprised by the genuineness in the man's voice. His godfather sounded like he actually wanted to know. "I know about most of this year. But, I'm totally clueless about what all happened during your first two years."

"They weren't all that great." Harry replied, feeling a little awkward. "I'm sure that's not true, pup. You are the godson of Sirius Black so there's no way they weren't worth it." Sirius ruffled Harry's hair and laughed. "Come on, fill me in. I'll tell you all about my years."

Feeling truly happy, Harry followed his godfather into the living room.

"Harry, old mate, look at what we found." Fred said as he and his twin strolled into Ron's bedroom with an air of exaggerated nonchalance. "Thought you and Ronniekins would want to take a look." George added and pulled out an old, leather bound book from his jacket pocket. "We found it in the lockers the other day, before we took the train home."

"What were you two doing near the lockers? Don't say you went to pick up your stuff. You'll did that when much earlier." Ron said, looking at the duo skeptically. "Shut up, mum." George snapped. "We went there to plan all our pranks for the next year, Ronnie. So anyway, here you go, mate. It's actually Sirius'. He must've accidentally left it behind during one of his years."

Harry accepted the book and saw that it was a photo album, a year book actually. He opened it and instantly recognised his godfather's elegant scrawl: Sirius Black.

Gryffindor Quidditch Team: 1975

Almost reverently, he turned the pages. The first picture was the house cup. The next few ones were of the members of the Gryffindor team. He stopped when he reached Sirius' photo. The young man in the album smiled charmingly at the camera before giving his trademark wink. Devilishly handsome and suave. He looked carefree and happy but his sharp grey eyes still held immense wisdom; as if he had seen it all.

He stopped at the next picture: James Potter. In the photo, James had only been two years older than Harry and the resemblance was truly striking. Untameable black hair, glasses, the same nose, ears and other features. The only thing that differentiated him from his father were the prominent hazel eyes.

"Whoa mate! You're exactly like him." Ron exclaimed. "Yeah, except the eyes though," Fred observed. Harry mentally laughed at that. He's lost count of the number of times he'd heard those very words from various people. "No wonder Sirius likes you so much." Ron said. Harry frowned slightly when he heard those words. "What does that mean?" He asked.

"Think about it. You're almost an exact copy of your father." He continued, not noticing Harry's disturbed expression. "It's like Sirius got his best friend back." Ron commented casually. Even though Ron had said it in offhandedly, Harry felt greatly upset. He masked his expression, unwilling to show how much it bothered him. "Yeah, I guess." He replied.

He'd lived with his godfather for two weeks and they'd been amazing. But, now he realised why Sirius had been so kind to him. For him, Harry was nothing more than a replacement for James Potter. He immediately chided himself for thinking that way. He should be grateful that the man had been generous enough to take him in. So what if he was just a substitute? It didn't matter, right? Sirius had freed him from the muggles and for that, he should be thankful. Besides, Sirius had never done anything to make Harry feel that way.

He forced himself to stop overthinking and went downstairs for lunch with the other Weasleys. He didn't stay much after lunch was over and flooed home after saying that he didn't feel all that good. Which was true. His stomach actually did hurt, probably because he'd eaten a little too much.

He stepped out of the floo and saw his godfather sitting in his favourite armchair, reading. The man looked up at him and smiled. "Hey, pup. I thought you weren't going to be back until the evening. I was preparing myself to drag you home for dinner." Harry tensed and then relaxed when he saw the mirth in Sirius' eyes. It had taken him a while to get accustomed to his guardian's teasing nature. "I got a little tired," he said.

"Are you alright, Harry?" The man asked, looking at him with concern and Harry felt guilty. "Yeah, I'm fine. We played a lot of Quidditch today, that's all." A lie. He felt miserable on the inside. Did Sirius really think of him as nothing more than a replacement for James? Why did Ron have to put these doubts in his head in the first place? He knew that his best friend had said it unintentionally but it still saddened him.

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked. He forced himself to nod. "Yeah. I'll be fine, Sirius, I promise. I think I'll go and take a short nap." He said. When Sirius nodded, he bolted up the stairs and nearly threw himself on his bed. Stop it! He harshly scolded himself. He wanted to believe that Sirius liked him the way he was and part of him did. But the other part was filled with doubts and insecurities.

That night, he didn't eat much. He pushed the food around until he finally asked to be allowed to go to his room. He couldn't sleep either. The ache in his stomach refused to subside but it was his mental conflict that was far worse. Forcing his mind to shut up, he fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, he awoke, feeling really uneasy. For some reason, he felt nauseous. The comforter felt rather suffocating and constricting. He tried to get them off but all he did was get tangled in them. He was sweating, not only from the summer heat but also because of the trapped feeling. He struggled a little more and finally managed to free himself from the covers.

Before it was too late, he got out of bed and ran into the bathroom. He hunched over the toilet and emptied his stomach. He wasn't sure for how long he sat there. When all that was left were dry heaves, he slumped on the floor and a frustrated sob wrenched itself from his throat.

Harry pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. "It's alright, pup." A hand settled on his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. He recognised his godfather's voice and looked up. The man gave him a smile but there was concern in his eyes. "What's the matter, kiddo?"

The gentle tone only worsened Harry's current state and felt shame wash over him. He hadn't meant for Sirius to see him this way. "I didn't mean to wake you," he mumbled, lowering his gaze. he felt strong fingers take hold of his chin and tilt his head upwards. "It's perfectly alright, Harry. If you need anything, I want you to tell me. I don't care if you barge into my room in the middle of the night."

"What's wrong, Harry?" he asked again. "My stomach hurts," he finally whispered, hating that he sounded so weak. "I see. So that's why you barely ate anything huh?" When Harry nodded, Sirius continued: "Harry, why on earth didn't you tell me? You should have said something, pup." Sirius lightly scolded him.

To his utter mortification, a few tears slipped down his cheeks when he heard the concern. He'd been holding them back all this while but not anymore. The stomach ache, Ron's words about him being a replacement, the belief that it was true: they all ended in pain.

He was a Gryffindor, but right now, he felt so afraid. He was just starting to trust Sirius but that didn't mean he wasn't wary of his godfather. He so desperately wanted to belong somewhere, be loved by someone. A hand came to rest on the back of his head. "It's alright, pup." Sirius didn't mock him. He just sat there, next to him, offering silent comfort.

"How about we get you back in bed, pup?" The warmth of his bed sounded inviting but he was too tired to move. Almost immediately, an arm slipped around his waist, gently pulling him up. Harry tensed at the contact but then forced himself to relax. "If it were up to me, I'd carry you back to bed. But, I have a feeling you'd have objected," Sirius joked and Harry let out a watery laugh.

He was feeling a little better. Although his stomach was aching, the weight on his chest had been partially released. Sirius helped him into bed and made sure he was comfortable. "I'll be back in a minute, pup." He left the room and returned almost immediately, with a vial in his hand. "It's a pain reliever, Harry. It'll take care of your stomach ache."

Harry accepted the potion and drank it, trying not to gag at the foul smell. "Now, tell me what's wrong." Sirius pulled one of the chairs up to the bed and sat down. "Talk to me, pup. I can't help you if you're not willing to communicate."

Harry remained silent, unsure about how to talk to his godfather regarding his current state of mind. "Harry, you're my godson. I hate seeing you this way, love. I know that you are just beginning to know me and I completely understand that you don't trust me right now. But, please, I need you to tell me what's upset you so much."

Harry knew there was no escaping this. He bit his lip and pulled out the yearbook that Fred and George had given him. It was rightfully Sirius' and he had meant to return it. But, he couldn't bring himself to give it back. Reluctantly, he handed it to his godfather.

"Where did you find this, kiddo?" The man didn't sound angry or accusatory but Harry was a little wary all the same. His back was still slightly sore from his 'welcome back present' from the Dursleys. While he was convinced that Sirius was different, one could never be too careful.

"Fred and George found it. They gave it to me today." Sirius hummed in response and opened the book. A minute passed in complete silence. Harry couldn't take it anymore.

"Sirius, am I a replacement?" The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

Sirius' hands stilled and he looked up at his godson. The odd question greatly confused him. He looked the boy in the eyes and was astounded by the amount of pain in them. He looked like he was ready to burst into tears any second. That's when his suspicions were confirmed. Whatever was bothering the lad was clearly much bigger than just a stomachache. "What do you mean, pup?"

Harry swallowed before answering. "Did you... did you ask me to come and live with you because... I remind you of James Potter? That if I stay with you, you'll miss him less?" Harry didn't know where the courage to say all this was coming from. "Does it feel like you've got your best friend back? Is that why you like me?"

He couldn't go any further. The lump in his throat was too large for him to continue. The last thing he wanted was to burst into tears in front of the man. Now that his initial courage had faded away, he cursed himself for being so stupid. He shouldn't have opened his mouth. Involuntarily, he tightened his grip on the comforter and scooted back against the pillows, like he wanted to protect his back.

"Pup?" Sirius' voice sounded shocked even to his own ears. But how else was he supposed to feel? Did Harry actually think that he was just a substitute in place of his father? Had he done something over the last few days to give his pup such an impression?

He reached out, gently squeezed Harry's hand and tried to ignore the flinch. "Look at me, Harry." When the boy looked up, his green eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"Before I say anything else, I want you to engrave something into your head. You. Are. Not. A. Replacement. Please, I need you to understand that very clearly." Sirius waited for Harry to nod before continuing.

"When I held you for the first time, the day you were born, all I saw was you. Tiny and swaddled up. When you grasped my finger the very first time, I swore I'd protect you at all costs. My baby godson, that's why I came. You're my pup."

"Twelve years later, when I caught a glimpse of you waiting for the Knight Bus, I saw you, not James. At the Whomping Willow, when I offered you to come and live with me, I made that offer because you are my godson, love. Your resemblance to James had nothing to do with it. True, you are my best friend's son but you're also my godson."

"You are my godson, Harry and I love you."

All this while, Harry had kept quiet. He stared at his godfather and saw nothing but sincerity and love in the man's eyes. He lunged forward and threw his arms around Sirius' neck.

"I'm such an idiot," he mumbled. Sirius hugged him back immediately and gently ran one hand through his hair. "Well, you are a little thick skulled, pup. I won't deny that." Harry laughed, feeling loads better already.

"But seriously, kiddo, it doesn't matter how the rest of the world looks at you. For me, you're Harry, my godson and that's that. Just remember, I've got you now. Alright?" Harry pulled away and nodded, no longer feeling miserable.

"The next time there's something bothering you, anything at all, I want you to come and talk to me about it. It can be the most idiotic, insignificant, silly little thing ever but nonetheless, it'll make me feel better if I know that you will talk about it. Okay?" That was the second time the man had said those words.

After a moment's hesitation, Harry nodded. He could try and do that. No more hiding or lying. Most of all, he felt reassured. He wasn't a replacement. "Feeling better?" Harry knew that his godfather wasn't inquiring about just his stomach. "Loads," he replied. "Great. Now, why don't you go back to sleep? The potion will work its magic and you'll be all fine by tomorrow."

Yawning widely, Harry nodded and shifted into a sleeping position. Sirius ruffled his hair and drew the comforter over him. "Sleep tight, pup."

"G'night, Sirius," Harry yawned again. That night, the boy made up his mind that one day, he would tell his godfather everything. The man genuinely cared and he wasn't about to let that go. He could almost hear Sirius' voice in his head.

"I've got you now, pup. I love you."

If only he knew that the voice was very real, standing against his doorframe. Sirius smiled fondly at the child who was comfortably snuggled up.

If anyone so much as dared to lay a finger on his pup, he, Sirius Black would tear them apart. That was a promise.

I have been wanting to write this for quite some time but didn't have the time. Please feel free to leave reviews and tell me what you think of it.