Sirius looked at his arm. And shook his head. Sighed, then looked again, then back up at James.
"You fuckhead I swear to god if you're being serious right now…."
"Dead serious.", joked James, trying not to crack a smile despite the gravity of the situation.
He was trying not to grin at the fact that his own son, the first- and only- child he'd have if he had his way, was quite literally a part of sirius. As in, Harry could now control Sirius's left side but had no physical being. This was, after all, bloody awesome.
Before Sirius could bite back, James quickly inserted, "It'll be fine- look. We just have to make sure Lily doesn't find out."
"How the fuck are we going to keep this from her? She is his mother! She's going to wonder where the fuck her son has gone soon enou- what are you doing? James I swear to god, put your wand awa-"
And then Sirius was Harry. Almost. In fact, it would have been rather convincing if 'Harry' didn't have Sirius's arms sticking out just below his own, middle fingers raised at James in a defiant gesture of 'fuck you'.
"You know, 'put your wand away' sounds incredibly sexual. Like you're implying tha- Oh hello Lily dear! Nothing to see here! I was just uh… Yes, I was just making Harry here, perfectly normal Harr- no those aren't extra arms, please keep up- anyway, perfectly normal Harry a very nutritious lunch of- no, I said those weren't extra arms. Please do not scream at me it is quite annoying. What do you mean where's Sirius? He's gone for a walk. Run. A run. He's a dog, after all, don't try to find him because he isn't here. Definitely not. If you'll excuse me I'm going to take Siri- Harry out in his stroll- no I didn't call him Sirius. It was a Freudian slip. Like when I try to say your name and I say 'sandwich' instead- no you're right. Now is not the time for sexist jokes. Very sorry."
To say James ran out of the room would be an understatement; He grabbed Harry under the armpits, crushing the Sirius arms and rendering them unable to swear, and legged it- remembering to lock the door shut on his way out. It wouldn't stop Lily, but it would slow her down enough to give him time to find a quiet place to un-fuck up. He hoped.
And hey, if all else failed, he could get a head start in finding a new apartment in London.
The night was that of Saturday the 31st October, in 1981, and the sun was just beginning to set. The children would soon be streaming out of their houses in costumes, along with teenagers heading to Halloween parties, and so it was with a relative amount of confidence that a hooded figure with no nose walk up to a quiet house on a quiet street, blast the door open and climb the stairs to where a four-armed baby was asleep in it's cot, with the father passed out exhausted beside it.
Lily came home the next morning, to find the baby Harry sat up crying, with James lying sprawled on the floor, head at an unnatural angle.
The baby Harry had been protected by the love Lily had for him, and the worry she held for his welfare; it spread across town from the hotel she had decided to check into for the night. But James did not possess that same protection.
James simply possessed the guilt he felt at having been unable to fix the mess, the anger he felt at himself for having driven his wife out the house, and the loneliness he was made of that night, as he fell asleep slowly, next to his newborn child. Harry simply possessed fear and Sirius.
Lily cried.
