Part one: tension, love and advice

Sirius was busy when Harry entered number 12 Grimmauld place. Busy with the order as usual – well half the order. Lupin, Dumbledore, Madeye and Snape were already there and Tonks and Kingsley had left Harry to join them, but the Weasleys wouldn't arrive for a few days yet.

Harry was studying the wall tapestry in the living room when Sirius entered, but he did not turn around straight away, but continued to study the curly script that proclaimed his father's name. It was odd to think that his father and godfather had not only been best friends, but had also shared the tiniest amount of blood.

After awhile he turned round and only then did Sirius approach him, enveloping his godchild in a bear like hug, yet Harry sensed that was wrong, if possible Sirius seemed sadder than usual, but he could not place his finger on why or even if sadness was the right emotion that he was detecting. "Come on" said Sirius, stopping Harry's poor attempts at sleuth work. "Let's get some food in you – it's late and I know you're always hungry – those muggles don't feed you enough."

...

Harry's face was a brief picture of surprise as when he entered the kitchen. He was not sure what he had expected: an empty kitchen – he and Sirius would chat and eat, or a kitchen bustling with and full – chaos and chatter with five people sat around the table. What he did not expect however, were the two solitary figures sitting in stiff positions next to each other and an awkward silence. Harry wondered if he was the only one who could tangibly taste the tension – thick like fog in the room. And he wondered for the second time in such a short period what was wrong. If anyone else was aware of the weird atmosphere they chose to ignore it.

Harry ambled over to the table and pulled out the chair opposite Tonks, but was interrupted. "Ah Harry, I'd rather you sit opposite Lupin if you don't mind, you see that's my seat and I also prefer seeing a pretty face when I eat, helps my food to digest." At this Sirius was rewarded with a sly half smile from Tonks which momentarily cleared the tension in the room, much like sun dissipated mist. Harry moved to the next chair without complaint, but as far as he had ever been aware, his godfather had never preferred a seat, instead flitting around from seat to seat when the fancy took and dependant on whom he wished to converse with. It was only at Christmas that he had a set place – at the head of the table, and this was only achieved by copious amounts of demand from all other parties and he never stayed put for the entire meal anyway.

If it had been awkward before then it was positively torture when they started to eat. The food was like soggy cardboard in Harry's mouth and he found he had difficulty swallowing. When he asked questions after people he only got monosyllabic responses that answered him, but left no room for development. Tonks was the only one who replied with any vigour but she was picking up on the tenor of the room and her answers became shorter and drier until Harry and her both gave up on conversation. It was only when Harry enquired about the order that things seemed normal – they would chastise him fondly, telling him that he mustn't worry, that it was none of his business and that he was only a child, yet in his own mind fifth teen was hardly a child, in fact far from. All of which had been programmed into them via Molly Wealey.

The only eventful moment in the entire meal was when Tonks and Lupin's hands brushed when they were passing vegetables. There had been a spark in both their eyes, Lupin being brasher and bolder than usual, to which Tonks shied away, being timid; far from her usual cheeky, bubbly, clumsy self. When this took place Sirius pinked slightly, looked away and started muttering something. He had then promptly left uttering some inaudible excuse and left the room after retrieving a bucket from under the sink.

He had clearly been embarrassed at the moment between the two, but so had Harry and he was only a teenager. He had not been over exaggerated and flounced out of the room. He had stayed put and endure and he was the one being told that he was a child so couldn't know about the order. The injustice of it all! But Harry was not quite used to his godfather's odd moods and so decided to finish his meal.

It had clearly been Sirius. The odd tension that had lingered in the room was dispelled and finally the sun cleared the mist as soon as the escapee had left the room. Tonks was back to the way she had been at the start of the meal: boisterous and entertaining. She even tried out a few different animal ears to make Harry laugh. And Lupin was as normal as usual, laughing along and joining in with the now stellar, flowing conversation, kind as ever.

Harry could not work out whether the problem had been Sirius's entirely or if it had has something to do with Lupin too as he has appeared to be badly affected by the shadow that Sirius had carried in a way that Harry and Tonks had not been. Yet he assumed it must have been pretty tense between the two who had only been reunited a year and a half ago and the one had been convinced that the other was guilty of effectively murdering his best friend. He sure wouldn't like to be in that situation with Ron or Hermione. Harry decided to rid himself of these for the meantime and enjoy the company he was keeping. He would search for his Godfather after the others had left.

...

"Tell Sirius we're sorry that we didn't get to say goodbye," whispered Tonks so as not to disturb the portrait of Mrs. Black. "and tell him it was good of him to have us for tea, even if he was err... off colour."
"I will." Replied Harry. "I'll go find him and see if he's feeling better. Bye, see you soon."
"Bye." Lupin just nodded. They stepped onto the door step and linking arms they vanished in a whirl of colours as they disapperated. Harry closed the door slowly and quickly, and then walked up the stairs; silently thanking no one in particular that Mrs. Black had been kept silent.

Sirius wasn't in the library, drawing room or sitting room. Harry didn't bother looking in Sirius's rooms: either his childhood or new one, but went to a room on the third floor and opened the door. He bowed silently to a pair of large amber eyes which stared at him fiercely for a while, which the bowed in turn. Demeaning this as the hippogriff's approval he entered the room feeling safe now that Buckbeak was no longer scrutinising him.

He entered the room fully and closed the door behind himself. This was one of the many rooms that he knew existed yet had never ventured into. It was exceptionally spacious and a lot larger than the room should be able to contain. Along the right wall a mixture of magically induced vegetation grew, it extend past the corner and obscured the entirely of the first vast window on the back wall. In this corner was a large dark whole which was presumably Buckbeak's den. The room was large enough for the unconventional pet to circle in flight but he could only beat his wings about five times before he had completed the circuit. The middle window on the back wall was a good few meters in both dimensions and Harry could just imagine the animagus would take Buckbeak flying on quiet nights. He could understand why Sirius came here to think a lot: it was oddly soothing.

Sitting on a thin carpet of half crushed vertebrae was the man he was looking for – his only family – playing with a small mammal tail. "Alright?" asked Harry, not really expecting to receive an answer, he stood uninvited next to him. As expected all he got in return was silence, so he decided not to push the matter and changed tact. "Are all the Weasleys coming? I mean obviously Ron is, and Hermione's coming to right?" Sirius looked at Harry, his eyes creasing into an unexpected smile. "Yes. Well, all of them except the older brothers. Hermione and Ginny are going to share a room. You can share with Ron if you want." Harry looked down at his godfather in surprise.
"Ginny? Ginny's coming?" Harry enquired, if he was being told that he was a child who shouldn't be concerned with the order the surely Ginny was. "Yes, why? You're not still holding a grudge because she hexed you, are you? I hear she's very good at them." He chuckled, patting the bone encrusted floor next to him invitingly.

He used his foot to clear the evidence of dead animals as he thought of how uncomftable it would be to sit on tiny splintered femurs and such like, yet they didn't seem to bother Sirius. "No" he finally answered. "She never actually hexed me; I think it was Fred or George. Ginny would never hex me. It's just, just" he flailed trying to sum up the unfairness of it all, but Sirius interrupted him.
"You like her don't you? And I don't mean the same way that you like Hermione and Ron. I mean really like her." Sirius accused. This got Harry thinking. "Well of course I like her, but not in that way. Well I don't think so anyway. I mean she used to like me- I even got a singing card in second year." Sirius chuckled. "and I didn't mind, apart from the fact that it was so embarrassing. But she's had tons of boyfriends since. And I like another girl, but, well it's sort of complicated. Plus, she's Ron's Sister. Really?!" Sirius raised an eyebrow, mentally filing away the information to be re-aired at a later date.

"So, who do like then? You can tell me I know all about complicated relationships." Sirius offered knowingly with a slightly wistful smile playing on his lips. Harry blushed a deep pink, not red like a Weasley, nothing could rival a Weasley's blush, especially Ron who turned beet at the drop of a hat. "Cho Chang." Harry muttered hoarsely in a half whisper as if the walls or Buckbeak were listening.
"Yin Chang's daughter?" Harry shrugged in answer. "Do you love her Harry?" His answer to which was to choke on nothing.
"I don't know Sirius; I'm bloody fifteen for God's sake!"
"Okay, don't bite my head off! It's just you'll know. When you're in love I mean. You can get caught three ways. You'll either fall really suddenly and realisation will come on impact with the ground. Or it'll be like ascending a staircase, each step seems insignificant; that as a collective whole amount to a vast height, you're aware that you're taking them but you can't stop climbing. Then there's the most deadly. A small gentle incline where the gradient is unnoticeable, they're an extension of you, like your wand and you're not even aware it's happening. Like watching yourself day by day in the mirror, you always think you look the same until you look back at an old photo and suddenly realise how much you've changed. Either way, you'll know." This caused Harry to chuckle. "You do sound like you have a lot of experience to speak from."
"Yes" replied Sirius "I was quite the womanizer in my time." Harry frowned deeply.
"But what about you, have you ever been in love?"

His godfather's eyes had gone misty as if staring at something in the very far distance, which was too remote to focus on properly. "Sirius?" but he didn't reply, clearly caught in nostalgic thoughts. Harry decided to call it a night; he was clearly going to get no reply from his godfather who was wrapped in his own memories. Bowing to Buckbeak he left the room and headed for bed.