Title: The To-Do ListRating: R
Pairings: Sirius/Harry, mentions of past Remus/Harry and Snape/Harry.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Ms Rowling. They are copyrighted to Warner Bros and other companies. I am borrowing them for non-profit entertainment only.
Warnings: Harry is 17. In case you don't view that as able to give consent, consider yourself warned.
Author's notes: A huge thank you to my beta, Crabbegirl. Written for SpinningCompass, Sirry Santa 2004.

The To-Do List

Harry felt as though he were rooted to the floor; that his blood had turned to ice in his veins and that time had stopped or shattered altogether. It must have been at least a minute before he unfroze and reread Hermione's grim findings.

So that was it, he thought. He would go forth, battle Voldemort and possibly emerge triumphant. However, regardless of the outcome, win or lose, Harry would most likely die. He knew that Hermione must have crunched the numbers and gone over the muddle of spells and rites hundreds of times before showing it to him so he didn't question the truth and accuracy of the words on the parchment in front of him.

"I'm so sorry Harry," she said softly yet heavily, as though the weight of her discovery was crushing her.

"Why be sorry?" Harry said, shrugging. "It isn't you who messed with everything and made it so that if he dies, I die." He still did not quite understand how all this could be happening, but he decided against wasting precious time mulling over it.

Harry folded the papers neatly in half, stood up and tucked his chair under the table in the Weasley's kitchen. Shoving the folded parchment into his robe pocket he walked over to the window and looked out into the bright sun-drenched garden.

"Please Harry," Hermione pleaded, "don't fight him! Let someone else do it."

Still facing the window, Harry gazed out into the distance where Crookshanks was visible as a blur of orange among the varied greens of the garden. "I have to do it," he said quietly. "I'm the only one who can kill him. You know that, Hermione."

He heard his friend stand up and pad her way across the kitchen until she stood behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't feel alone, Harry," she said firmly. "We'll help you."

"I'm still in school," Harry replied bitterly, "yet I'm the one who has to kill the maniac who is trying to take over our world and more than likely I'll die doing it. It won't matter how much help I have." He finally turned and stared intently at a tearful Hermione. "In the end, I'm alone in this and no one can change that." Harry moved past her out of the kitchen before Hermione could stop him.

Harry knew that there were plans in place, intricately mapped out by the Order of the Phoenix. The objective was to take Voldemort out before the end of the next school year if that was at all possible. That ambitious timeline, he realized, provided the markers for the rest of Harry's life. In less than a year, Voldemort could be dead if all went well. Harry would be dead, regardless of the Dark Lord's fate. A single year seemed like such a great length of time…until now. It was, in fact, nowhere near enough time.

Vaguely wondering if this was anything like being told one had a fatal disease and was given a year to live, Harry began thinking about all the things he would not live to see or do. After a while, he began to filter through his ideas, looking for ones that he could do before he died. He soon had a plan of his own taking shape.

Sirius was alone in the sitting room at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, thumbing through a motorbike manual with the idea of fixing up his old bike as a bit of something to do to stave off the inevitable boredom that came with continuous house-arrest. Eventually he became frustrated with his lack of technical expertise and flung the book down onto the sofa beside him. His mind, when not otherwise occupied, fell immediately to its favourite subject: Harry.

Sirius was concerned about Harry. His godson had not owled him as regularly as he had when Sirius first returned from beyond the veil. In fact, since Harry had visited with the Weasleys at the Burrow over the summer holiday's last year, Sirius had received all of two letters from him.

That wasn't all that was bothering Sirius. He'd been hearing rumours that his godson was behaving very oddly of late. Sirius knew that he took after his parents in more than just looks, but even James had certain lines he would not cross and Lily was rather attached to sticking as close to what she deemed 'right' as much as possible.

The Harry he had been hearing about, but not from, no longer seemed to have lines he would leave uncrossed. Apparently, Harry had even gone so far as to attempt seducing his way into Severus Snape's bed. Sirius had almost choked on a mouthful of tea when he heard that juicy titbit from no one less than the ever annoying and ever greasy Snape himself. The Potions Master had been much less than pleased about the whole "embarrassing mess the Potter brat caused." Sirius didn't know what disturbed him more: Harry's choice of activities or Harry's choice of potential lovers. The thought alone made him want to vomit.

Then there had been the Remus incident. Sirius really didn't want to remember that one because Remus was a good friend of his and Harry was very important to him. Sirius frowned and he felt his face grow hot as he tried to forget the shock of walking into his own kitchen at Christmas to find Harry pressing himself tightly against Remus, looking as if he was trying to shove his tongue down the other man's throat. Sirius tried to avoid examining the uncomfortable tinge of jealousy that flavoured the memory for fear of what that might mean for him.

Feeling helpless and utterly useless, Sirius sighed discontentedly. There was little he could do if Harry was unwilling to talk to him, especially since Sirius was still considered a fugitive and therefore had limited correspondence and was unable to leave his home. If Harry wanted his input, he knew to owl and had proven himself capable of doing so in the past.

Still restless with worry, Sirius picked up the motorbike book and stood up to return it to the shelf it belonged on, brooding over what he could do to help Harry. There was a sudden extra-loud crackle from the fireplace followed by the sound of someone toppling out of the fire. Sirius whipped around, wand at the ready only to find the subject of his thoughts picking himself up off the hearth-rug.

"Hello Sirius," Harry greeted, standing and brushing soot from his robes. The boy never did get the hang of floo travel.

Swallowing his whoop of delight, Sirius set his face into a stern expression of disapproval. "What are you doing away from the school?" he demanded, in a tone as close to Minerva McGonagall as he could manage. Sirius felt he had to at least try being the responsible adult here.

Harry grinned unrepentantly at his godfather. "First opportunity I've had to get away unnoticed," he said, settling himself down on the sofa where Sirius had been sitting moments before. "Besides, it's Saturday and I only have a few essays to write." Pushing his glasses up his nose, Harry gazed at Sirius. "Anyway, I'm not here to go over my schoolwork with you."

Sirius cautiously sank down onto the sofa beside Harry. "Then why are you here?" he asked, wondering what he'd do if Harry were to ask where Remus was.

"It's nearly the end of the summer term," Harry replied simply, "and I have a few things left on my to-do list." He seemed to be waiting for a response as if his answer made some sort of sense to Sirius.

Sirius tried to smile and shake off the concern and confusion. "A to-do list, eh?" he said breezily. "Well then, is there anything on the list that I can help with?"

Sirius expected Harry to shake his head and then drift off through the house, doing whatever it was teenagers did or to perhaps ask questions about his parents or want advice about things an almost-adult wizard would be concerned with. What Sirius didn't expect was for Harry to nod his head and then lean across and kiss his godfather.

The kiss shocked Sirius, not because it was a so unexpected, which it was, but because he found himself wanting those soft dry lips so lightly pressed against his to open for him. The older man's reaction was more unexpected to himself because it meant that he was perfectly willing to look past his position and responsibilities towards Harry to do something he had been trying to deny wanting. Apparently, he had been managing to deny it quite well and that realisation unsettled Sirius greatly.

Harry pulled back and, quite unlike the uncompromising confidence he had shown with Remus at Christmas, suddenly seemed less sure of his actions.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Sirius found his voice, hoarse though it was. "Harry," he said not as steadily as he would have liked. "You should not have done that. We should not have done that."

"Why not?" The confidence was back in Harry's voice and eyes.

"Because Ja-"

"My parents may be dead," Harry stated blandly, "but I'm seventeen which means I'm not a child anymore. So if you're planning on giving me some big lecture about abusing your position as my godfather, don't bother. It would be a waste of breath because I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions."

Sirius wondered how long those words had been waiting in Harry's head, ready to be spoken. The fact that Remus and Snape had probably been told something similar did not make Sirius feel at all happy about it.

"I know you want me," Harry said, again pressing his lips to Sirius' except more firmly this time. He pulled back to gaze at his stunned godfather. "I saw your reaction in the kitchen at Christmas. I saw how you were with Remus after that and I know that you watched me more until I had to leave for school." Giving Sirius no time to refute his words, Harry kissed Sirius again, gently sucking on Sirius's lower lip and running his tongue lightly along the line of his mouth. "Please?" Harry murmured, crawling forwards into Sirius' lap and wrapping his arms behind the man's neck.

Really, Sirius thought, would it be so bad? Here Harry was offering himself, and to refuse…well, that would be foolish-- Sirius suddenly shook his head as if to clear it and placed one hand on Harry's arm, the other on his chest. "No, Harry" he said, pushing Harry firmly away. "What the deuce has gotten into you?"

"Unfortunately not you," Harry said with an un-amused frown.

Sirius spluttered and stood, pulling Harry up with him. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Glaring at the scowling teen, Sirius held him by the shoulders at arms length. "Not just now, but before as well. I mean Snape, Harry? And Remus? Now me? Are you determined to have your name dragged through the mud by seducing an ex-Death Eater, a werewolf and an escaped convict?"

"That's not it!" Harry protested.

"Then what is it?" Sirius asked, releasing Harry so that he wouldn't shake the boy senseless.

Harry glowered, not meeting Sirius' eyes. "I didn't come here to talk about that," he muttered.

"No, you apparently thought that turning up here and trying to…to seduce me would work out whatever is bothering you. What is going on with you, Harry? You've barely spoken to me this year and you're not act-"

"I'll die."

"What?" Sirius barked. He gazed sceptically at Harry, who was now staring down at his feet following his startling statement.

Harry sighed and scrubbed his hand back through his ever-unkempt hair. "Whether or not Voldemort dies, I'll die."

Sirius stared at Harry, his heart breaking at the hopeless resignation in the bright green eyes. "No," he whispered

"Yes."

"No," Sirius insisted. "You won't. You'll be fine. Don't say things like that. Saying that to me so you can get out of explaining is unfair."

"I'm telling you the truth," Harry asserted. "That's why I wrote the list. That's why I was kissing Remus when you walked in at Christmas. That's why I stopped going to Divination. That's why I spend even more time playing Quidditch than I used to. That's why I'm here today."

"Because you think you're going to die," Sirius reiterated, releasing Harry's shoulders.

"No," Harry replied firmly. "I know that when I fight Voldemort like the Order wants, I won't be coming back, regardless of whether or not I win. He stepped closer to Sirius. "I don't want to die not having been with someone I care about."

Sirius shook his head again, doglike, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Even if that is so, Harry," he said carefully, "there is a difference between caring about someone and wanting them in a sexual way."

"Sirius, please," Harry said, reaching out to touch his godfather who, forgetting the sofa was behind him, had stepped back and fell down sitting onto it. "I want you to understand. I've had a lot of time to think about this and about you and what I want. I don't want to go not having had a chance at least."

"A chance?" Sirius queried weakly.

"To experience something pleasurable in my life before it ends," Harry explained earnestly. "To be with you and to find out what it's like to love you and be loved by you." A hot blush rose on his cheeks, but his green gaze did not waver.

"And you think that's what you want?" Sirius asked, baffled and bewildered.

"I know that's what I want," Harry said, crouching on the floor in front of Sirius and slowly reaching out to bring his fingers softly down the side of Sirius's face.

Sirius caught Harry's fingers, holding them to his cheek and studying Harry's face. Sirius' grey eyes became unfocused as it finally hit him that Harry was telling the absolute truth. This time it was Sirius who drew Harry near; Sirius who pressed a gentle kiss against Harry's lips; Sirius who wrapped his arms around Harry; and Sirius who wanted to make everything better for Harry.

Harry used his left hand on Sirius' knee to steady himself and pressed closer into the older man's embrace. Feeling confident now that Sirius had reinitiated the kissing, Harry pressed his tongue against Sirius' lips, rewarded when Sirius' mouth opened to him.

Godfather and godson kissed and touched, learning the feel and pull of skin and muscle on each other. Sirius hissed sharply as Harry's cool fingers delved beneath his shirt. Harry grinned at the response and ran his hands lightly over Sirius' chest. He slid up onto his godfather's lap, ignoring the old sofa's groan of protest as even his light weight caused it to sink further down to the floor.

To Harry, time seemed to race forward for them. One minute, they were kissing and caressing in the living room. The next minute, they were fumbling with the door to the master bedroom.

Harry had never been inside Sirius' room, which was actually quite artfully decorated in a soft palate of dark colours on the walls complimented by equally soft dark coloured fabrics. However, Harry was rather too distracted by Sirius' tongue in his mouth and his own hands working to unbutton Sirius' fly to notice the tasteful décor.

He did notice, however, that Sirius' bed was every bit as soft as he had imagined it to be when Sirius pushed him down onto it. Sirius' black hair was every bit as soft as he imagined it to be when Harry's hands alternately stroked and grasped at it. Sirius' lips were every bit as soft as Harry imagined them to be when those lips and the mouth attached to them were enveloped around him.

Sirius pulled off of Harry, grinning wickedly as the younger man cried out in protest and reached his hands up to bring Sirius back to finish what he had started. When Harry's bright green eyes opened wide in frustration, Sirius met them with an 'I know better' smirk and a suggestively raised dark eyebrow.

Sirius hastily pulled away the remnants of their clothes, making short work of the shirt hanging by a sleeve off one of Harry's arms and the trousers bunched up around Harry's ankles as well as his own shirt and trousers.

Sirius crawled off the bed and began to root around in the draws of his bedside cabinet. Harry raised himself up by his elbows and watched as his godfather muttered rapidly under his breath, surmising that Sirius was searching for some lubricant. Soon, Sirius returned to the bed triumphantly bearing a tube in his hand.

With hands and mouth, Sirius teased Harry slowly and torturously, dragging him closer to the marvellous edge of orgasm then denying him completion, unwilling to allow Harry his release so soon. Sirius skilfully brought Harry ever closer, with his mouth on Harry's cock and hands on and in his body, spreading rapidly warming gel around and inside of him.

Harry was by no means a virgin. His innocence had been one of the first things to go under the sway of his list since dying a virgin was simply out of the question. There was no telling whether his slightly longer term plans would reach fruition so he had been practical and took up the first offer made to him. The experience had been pleasant enough as were the varied liaisons following that first one, but this was different. This was Sirius; whose lips were presently kissing and sucking Harry's neck and whose fingers were both working around his cock and in his hole.

It felt like forever before Sirius finally slid his length into Harry, but it was a forever well worth waiting for. Harry's breath caught in his throat and it was a moment or two before breathing resumed, faster than normal as Sirius thrust in and out of Harry. It wasn't long before a huge tidal wave of sensation swept both men up into an earth shattering orgasm leaving them breathless and sated.

Sirius, who had collapsed on top of Harry, turned and moved off of him. He smiled as Harry pressed a kiss onto his shoulder and then curled up against him.

"Sirius…?" Harry's voice sounded heavy and satiated, but just a little nervous.

Sirius reassuringly pulled the younger man closer before he responded. "Yes, Harry?"

"Is this…Are we…?" Harry stammered. Sirius could feel him tense. Harry finally turned to Sirius, allowing him to see the question on his face. "Wasthisjustaoneoffthingorcanwedothisagain?" Harry finally blithered in a rush.

Before Sirius could reply, Harry spoke up again, slower this time. "I know it's kind of unfair to be with you like this when I'm going to go and…well…what I said before, but I do want you and I'd like it if we could do this again." Green eyes peered nervously up at Sirius. "Please?"

"Of course, Harry," Sirius said as Harry wrapped an arm around his waist, their legs becoming tangled again as he pressed close, "of course." He poked Harry's side with one finger. "Although we are going to discuss the matter of you dying a bit more after you stop trying to distract me."

"Oh good," Harry murmured, chuckling. "That won't be for some time then."

Sirius snorted but decided against pursuing the matter.