A/N: Hello again! Speedy update, no? It's always like this in the beginning, though.

I will now focus on chapter 9 for LHG. I don't know if anyone here has read that, but you might want to check it out, even though it is a bit different from this.

I hope I haven't disappointed anyone... That is always my fear with fan fiction. Harry Potter is wonderful, but hardcore fans are scary. I don't know if I am one myself. I certainly love the books and films more than I thought possible...

Anyway, please enjoy, and do review!

Ivy


"You look like you could use another cuppa," Remus said decisively, frowning at Sirius dejected slump. He rose and headed for the kitchen.

"I'm fine…" came the muffled response after a moment, but Remus merely snorted as he collected the teabags and filled the kettle again. When the water was boiling and the fragrant bags placed in the teapot, he returned to the living room, prodding Sirius' ribs.

"Where is the Sirius I knew, eh?" he asked crisply. "You were the one always pulling the rest of us out of our misery, were you not?"

"Spare me the lecture, Moony," Sirius grumbled, still not lifting his head.

"I think not," he replied with pursed lips. "I believe you are being a complete git and I intend to have you snap out of it."

"Thanks, that makes me feel loads better." Losing his patience, Remus cuffed his friend, forcing him to look up. "What the hell was that for?"

"You are being an idiot, Padfoot," Remus said in a quiet, stern voice. "Stop wallowing in such self-pity and get a grip. You have a boy upstairs who is hurting, and you are doing nothing to help it."

"Is this you comforting me? Because I'll have you know you're complete pants at it," Sirius answered caustically. "I am not 'wallowing in self-pity'. I am concerned for Harry, as you bloody well know."

"I know," Remus relented softly. "But you need to realise that he is still cautious around you."

"I've told him dozens of time that he can speak to me, Moony, so don't give me that. I cannot force him to speak to me. It has to be his decision."

"Of course, but you can coax him," Remus added. Sirius looked at him pensively for a while.

"You know I respect you, mate," he said, and Remus smiled slightly. He knew where this was going. "But I don't think I should force him. Or coax him," he added quickly when Remus opened his mouth to protest. "I know my kid, Moony," he said quietly. "I'm going to allow him some time, but make sure he knows I'm here. For the moment, that's all I can do." They stared at each other for a while longer, before they were interrupted by the whistling of the kettle.


Harry was stalling. Pushing his last pieces of egg around his plate as slowly as possible to put off the pending conversation. He heard his godfather sigh as he put the Daily Prophet down.

"Harry… You can procrastinate for as long as you like: we will still be discussing this." Harry grimaced into his plate, and saw Remus shifting in his chair out of the corner of his eye. He didn't essentially mind the man being there, but he knew he was in for a lecture, and would rather Remus wasn't there for that. He wasn't sure if Sirius would ask him to leave for it, though, and certainly wouldn't ask him to leave himself. Sighing in defeat, he shovelled the last pieces of his now cold breakfast into his mouth and pushed his plate away from him. "Plate, sink," Sirius said with a raised eyebrow and a smile. Harry grinned and did as he was asked, the clattering of the knife and fork against the plate loud in the otherwise silent room

"I'll go and gather my things," Remus said, standing up.

"Yes, do," Sirius said pleasantly as Remus left the room. Harry fidgeted.

"Let's go into the parlour," Sirius said in the same placid voice, beckoning for Harry to follow. "Listen, Harry," he continued as they were both seated on the couch. "To a certain extent, I understand your reasoning in this situation. However," he quickly added as Harry looked far too hopeful, "You need to learn to think before you rush headlong into dangerous predicaments."

"But Sirius-"

"I'm not finished." Harry quieted, not quite sure how to deal with this Sirius. He'd only been his legal guardian for seven months, and until now, he had never been displeased with Harry. It was an odd thing really, and he felt an unfamiliar feeling in his stomach at Sirius indirect scolding. "Harry, one day you might find yourself in a situation you can't fix, and I don't want you getting used to this kind of luck with escaping death." Harry felt his godfather's hand on the back of his head, gently tipping it back to allow the boy's eyes to meet Sirius'. "I just got you, didn't I? I will hardly allow you to go killing yourself before I've seen you grow up into the strong young man I know you'll be." Harry bit his lip to stem his tears, irritated with the fact that he was breaking down for the second time in less than 48 hours. Sirius, seeing the boy's struggle, decided to drop the scolding for a bit. Well, he wasn't actually sure his tone would even count as scolding, but no matter.

"Come on, love, talk to me," he murmured, pulling the boy closer, settling him against his chest. "What's troubling you, hmm?" Harry sniffled miserably, and let his head lean against his godfather's shoulder, relishing in the warmth of the man's embrace.

"Promise you won't be angry?" Harry couldn't see it, but Sirius was smiling nostalgically. How many times had he himself not asked that same question? Albeit not to his father, or godfather, but to Mr Potter.

"I can't promise you that, kiddo. But I will promise to listen to all you have to say," he said, repeating the words James' father had spoken to both his son and his best friend. Harry sniffled again, and shifted into a more comfortable position.

"Well I… I love it here…" he began uncertainly, and Sirius felt warm inside at hearing this. Of course, Harry had made that quite clear previously, but to hear him saying it in that small soft voice was quite the treat. "But I… I can't help but…" Sirius squeezed the child to encourage him. "I miss mum. And dad," He whispered eventually and Sirius felt his heart plummet. Surely… Surely Harry wasn't afraid he'd be angry about that?

"Harry… Why on Earth would I be angry about that?" he asked, astonished and a bit saddened.

"Well you've been so nice to me, and I'm not being at all grateful, and they're gone and I… I can't…" His slight frame shook with the force of his sob as the tears started falling and Sirius felt like a complete arse. Cradling the child as close as he could, he rocked him back and forth slowly.

"Ssh, Harry… I don't expect you not to miss your parents. In fact, I would be surprised if you didn't. I'm sorry I can't bring them back for you. I'm sorry they were taken from you." Harry just cried, feeling both grief and relief at finally having got that off his chest.

Sirius for his part felt like an idiot for not having realised how torn up Harry actually was, and was slightly irritated that Remus had seen it as such an obvious thing. All the pictures he'd shown the boy, all the stories he told him… Had they in fact only fuelled this desperation, this sadness? He'd have to be more careful, that was for sure. But for now he would just hold the child and let him cry. His child.


Five days had passed since Remus' first visit, and Sirius had spoken to Harry again about letting the man stay permanently. Or as permanently as need be, meaning until he found a suitable house himself. Harry had tried to hide his reluctance, but in the end, Sirius managed to convince him it'd be fun. He would move in the following day.

"Come along, Harry," Sirius called up the stairs, smiling with amusement at Harry's crashing about in his room. "If you want to go to Diagon Alley, you'd best get your bum down here!" he added, just as Harry came flying round the corner and bounded down the stairs.

"I'm here, I'm here," he panted, stopping at the foot of the stairs to stoop and tie his shoelaces.

"What in Merlin's name took you so long?" Sirius chuckled.

"Couldn't find my shoes," Harry shrugged.

"You couldn't find your shoes," Sirius repeated raising his eyebrows. Harry held up his hands in defence.

"I've been using school shoes before," he said, nodding down at his trainers.

"Right, kiddo," was all he received back. "Now come on, before you come of age." Harry rolled his eyes, something he'd picked up from his godfather, and followed him into the parlour and over to the fireplace. Sirius grabbed a handful of the dusty, grey Floo powder and chucked it into the fireplace, causing green flames to burst out of nowhere, licking the blackened, sooty sides. "Diagon Alley!" he stated clearly, and stepped, together with Harry, into the fire.

The wizard alley was rather crowded that sunny, summer morning, and Harry and Sirius made their way forward in a leisurely pace, stopping now and then to take a look in a window or buy Chocolate Frogs from vendors along the street.

After they'd got a fair way into the alley, Harry spotted the shop he'd been wanting to go to. Before he had time to open his mouth, though, Sirius said:

"I have to go to the bank. Haven't been for a while and I definitely need to get some more money." Harry's face visibly fell and Sirius chuckled quietly. "Why the long face?"

"I want to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies," Harry said dejectedly, staring longingly at the shop's sign some twenty metres away.

"We can go there after lunch," Sirius promised, beginning the trek towards the bank. But Harry didn't want to go there after lunch; he wanted to go now.

"Please Sirius, can't we go there first and then to the bank?"

"No we can't. If we do, you'll find a hundred things you want and you won't be able to get a single one of them. Doesn't sound too great, does it?" he said jokingly, tousling Harry's hair. The boy huffed, shrugging out of Sirius' grip and folding his arms. Sirius sighed, feeling torn. Would he dare…?

"All right, listen," he said, pulling the boy to the side so that they weren't blocking the street. "I will go to the bank, and in the meantime, you can stay in the shop." Harry's eyes lit up. "But Harry, listen to me. You will stay in there. I don't want you putting a toe outside the door while I'm gone. Do you understand?" Harry nodded emphatically. "A verbal answer, please."

"Yes, sir," Harry said eagerly.

"Do you have your wand?" Sirius asked. Harry nodded, pulling it out of his pocket. Taking it, Sirius tapped his own wand against it, and the Holly glowed blue for a brief second.

"What was that?" Harry asked as he was handed back his wand.

"Tracking spell. Now then." He walked them over to the Quidditch store, and grabbed Harry' shoulders. "Do you understand me, Harry? Do not leave the shop. I will be back in about fifteen minutes, all right?" Harry nodded. Patting the boy's head, Sirius nudged him through the doors. "Have fun," he said with a small grin before leaving to go to the bank. He was aware that it mightn't be the best thing in the world to leave the eleven-year-old alone in the store, but he doubted Harry would leave the place. He was actually surprised the kid had wanted to stay there without him anyway. Besides, apart from the Tracking Spell he'd placed on Harry's wand, there were other protections. For one thing, the detested Black family ring Sirius was forced to wear was charmed to let him know if Harry was in danger. Not to mention that he'd sent his Patronus out to watch the kid and let him know should anything go wrong. I'll be quick, he thought, hastening his step.

Harry stared around in wonder. The last few times they'd been in Diagon Alley he'd been too shy to ask to go in there, and so this was the first time. There were plenty of people around him, but they seemed to melt into the background as Harry eagerly perused all the brooms, Quidditch sets and other trinkets. He spotted a miniature Quidditch pitch, which could apparently be enlarged into one of regular size. He stared longingly at the package, before he was bodily pushed to the side by someone.

"Watch it," a snooty voice said that Harry immediately recognised. Feeling his heart race and his cheeks flush in anger, he turned to the scowling blonde.

"You walked into me, Malfoy," he growled, clenching his hands.

"Potter," the Slytherin sneered. "Should have known it was you. Who else would be so rude?"

"Prat," Harry muttered, turning away to continue browsing the many shelves.

"What are you doing in here anyway?" Malfoy continued, clearly in the mood for an argument. Fight, more like.

"None of your business," Harry replied without turning around.

"Shouldn't you be with that godfather of yours?" he said from behind Harry, who felt his temper rise.

"Don't say a word about my godfather, Malfoy," he hissed back.

"A wee bit touchy, aren't we?"

"Sod off," he muttered, turned and stalked out into the sunshine. He wasn't supposed to. He should go right back in. But in all honesty, he didn't know what he'd do to Malfoy if he stayed. He'd been going on his nerves all year, and he'd sure as hell not let him do the same when they were on break. The slight guilt he was feeling at disobeying Sirius was dulled by the throbbing anger. He didn't understand what possible joy Malfoy could see in tormenting him constantly. Harry was hardly kind to Malfoy, but he never sought him out just to start ribbing.

Sirius had said he wouldn't be long. He'd just stroll a few shops down and then go back and wait outside. Or just inside the door, he thought. He wasn't supposed to have left at all, so best play it safe.

The sun was hot on his back, and he paid the people and shops little mind, too lost in his own thoughts. After a while though, it seemed to get darker. Harry didn't realise at first, but when the sun suddenly didn't seem to shine anymore, he got a bit worried. How long had he been walking? And where was he, for that matter? Looking up he felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. Gone was the bright friendly, cobbled street of Diagon Alley. In its place he found a gloomy alleyway with a few dodgy looking witches and wizards limping along. Knockturn Alley. He felt his heart begin to race yet again, though for a different reason, and turned around as quickly as he could. It felt cold and frightening to be down there and he wanted nothing more than to get back to the crowded high street.

He could hear someone walking behind him but didn't slow in the slightest, or look back. He could see the crowds of people ahead of him and broke into a jog. Just a minute later he emerged, quickly melting into the crowd and made his way back to Quality Quidditch Supplies, wondering how long it had been since he'd left. He sighed gratefully as the sign to the store came into view. His relieved expression soon changed though. Standing outside the door was, of course, his godfather. For a moment, Harry felt like turning the other way and running as far away as possible. He didn't, though, but slowly walked up to Sirius, who had been watching him approach. Stopping in front of him, Harry stared at the ground, twisting his right hand around his left thumb.

"We're going home," Sirius said shortly, placing a hand on Harry's neck and guiding him towards the leaky Cauldron. Harry obeyed the pressure and they walked in silence.


Harry stepped first into the living room, spinning around to face his godfather.

"Sirius, I have to just-" He was cut off by Sirius grabbing his arm, turning him to the side and smacking him soundly across his rear. Harry yelped at the sudden sting, and again as two more spanks were placed on the exact same spot, before he was whirled back around.

"What did I tell you before I left?" Sirius demanded in a stern voice.

"That… That I should stay in the shop. But Sirius I-"

"No arguments, Harry," Sirius exclaimed in an exasperated voice. "There was no room for negotiation there. You told me to my face that you would stay in there, and you disobeyed me."

"But, Sirius, Malfoy-"

"Harry James." Harry snapped his mouth shut. "I told you not to leave. You must be able to avoid people with whom you don't get along without having to disobey me. I know you and Draco Malfoy don't see eye to eye, and I am not saying that you have to. However, you do have to do as I tell you, and if that means enduring young Malfoy's company for ten minutes, then so be it." Harry was blushing: he was embarrassed about the whole affair, not to mention the scolding and the smacks. He couldn't actually believe Sirius had done that.

"I'm sorry," he squeaked out after a while, utterly mortified. Sirius fingers snaked their way under Harry's chin, applying gentle but persistent pressure until Harry raised his head and looked Sirius in the eyes.

"You worried me sick," he said quietly. "I came to the shop and you weren't there. The Tracking Spell said you were almost back by the shop though. Harry, where did you go?"

"I just wandered…" Harry said, in the same high pitched voice.

"Wandered," Sirius repeated.

"I wasn't looking where I was going. I walked into Knockturn Alley and then I realised that-"

"You walked in where?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Knockturn Alley," Harry admitted dejectedly. Two seconds later, Sirius hand came in contact with his godson's behind twice more.

"Harry James Potter, I cannot believe you!"

"I didn't mean to, Sirius, honest!" Harry cried, feeling hot tears gather in his eyes. Sirius dragged his hand through his hair and then, to Harry's surprise, pulled the boy into an embrace.

"You silly child," he sighed, holding Harry close. Harry, gripping his godfather for dear life, sniffled as his eyes watered and his bum tingled.

"Sorry," he said again, his voice muffled against Sirius' shirt. His godfather didn't answer, but just held his hand to Harry's head, rubbing his thumb up and down. After a while, Sirius inched away and held Harry at an arm's length.

"I love you very much, you know that right?" he said, and Harry felt himself blush as he nodded. Yes he did know that. Sighing, Sirius kissed his boy's forehead quickly and patted his shoulder. "Go to your room for a bit," he said quietly, and Harry nodded mutely, turning around and hurrying upstairs.

Once in his room, Harry flung himself on his bed, opting to lie on his stomach just in case. He doubted it' be painful to lie on his back, but it was probably more comfortable this way. It was more than obvious that he wasn't used to things like this. Sent to his room, yes. Though, at the Dursleys, he'd been sent to his cupboard, so he supposed this was an improvement. But getting away from his aunt, uncle and cousin had been a nice thing. Being sent away from Sirius was pure torture. What was he supposed to do, all alone, in his room? He sat up again, embarrassed to find it still slightly uncomfortable to sit. And what about all of that? He had no idea Sirius was the kind of person that used… that kind of discipline. Mrs Weasley, probably, Sirius, never. He hadn't gone anywhere near those measures when they'd spoken about the stone. In all honesty, Harry hadn't been punished at all for that, and he knew well that Ron and Hermione had been.

It was utterly confusing, and he picked up his Transfiguration book in all his despair, reasoning that he might as well complete some of the reading now that he had nothing else to do.


"I smacked him Remus. I mean, I don't even…" Sirius groaned and shook his head, his eyes frustrated and slightly confused. Remus smiled slightly.

"You're hardly the first parent to do so." His calling Sirius a parent warmed more than Sirius thought imaginable, but he didn't comment on it, deciding that it was only natural that he was referred to as Harry's parent: that was what he was now, after all.

"No, I know that from personal experience, Moony, thanks," Sirius replied sarcastically, to his best friend's amusement.

"Harry's a bright child," Remus said thoughtfully. "I doubt he went into Knockturn Alley on purpose."

"Nevertheless, he did enter that wretched place. He needs to learn to be more aware of his surroundings. Not to mention doing as he's told," he added grimly.

"Come now, Sirius, he's eleven years old."

"I'm perfectly aware of his age," Sirius replied, rolling his eyes playfully.

"And I think you will recall what you were like at that age?"

"Hardly relevant."

"So you see my point." Sirius sighed and took another swig of his Butterbeer. "It was always going to be a rocky time, this," Remus continued. "It takes time to adjust."

"He's been my... son since Christmas Moony," Sirius retorted, stumbling on the word son, feeling rather as though he was betraying James.

"But you've only been living together like this for two weeks. Give it time."

"I know." They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Sirius declared he was going to make dinner and then "call his monster downstairs."

"Sounds like a good idea. What are we eating?" Remus asked with a smirk.

"You're eating a raw chicken if you're not careful."

"I think I'd prefer a raw steak…"

"Of course you would…"