Indeed, it was a grim old place to grow up in, as Sirius knew, but he was determined to make it home for Harry, Remus, and himself.
So he ripped up the carpets, and took down the curtains that had been there since forever. He repaired, repainted. He wrote back the names of the people that had been blasted from the family tree by his mother. He broke his fingers by trying to wrench his mother's shrieking portrait from the wall.
Sirius disappeared for days on end. He came home drunk and high out of his mind, he dyed his hair all colors of the rainbow and let it grow down below his butt. He got tattoos all the way up and down his arms, of wolves and dogs and rats and stags. He never slept, you could see it in his eyes. He started walking away in the middle of slurred sentences, with no warning. He didn't show up for Remus's birthday, leaving Remus alone. They had no way to tell where he was or where had been or who he had been with. Sirius was a mess, because James was gone, James was gone, his brother. The man who had protected him from his cruel parents. The man who had taken him in when he was sixteen and alone, away from his abusive mother. And now James was gone, and he was back in the place where he had grown up, where all the most awful things had happened to him. He was floating through the air like a dust mote, with no way to tell which direction he would turn next.
He left Remus to raise Harry alone in the cold dark house, with no way to deal with his own problems. With no way to take care of Harry on full moons.
"Sirius, you need to get it together," said Remus one night after Sirius had come home more sober than he had been for days. "For Harry," he continued. "For James."
So Sirius cut his hair, wore no more leather jackets and went sober. For Harry. For James.
Remus was dealing with the trauma in his own way. He took care of Harry and wrote. He was hardly ever seen without quill and parchment in his hand, even when holding the baby. He taught Harry to walk and talk and read and write, and he always answered questions. He was the one that bought the new clothes and new toys. Harry and Sirius called him Moony, and they all held hands when going on walks, Remus in the middle.
Harry grew up fast, needing new shoes and glasses and clothes.
With his glasses Harry looked more like James every day, and seeing him, seeing James,sent Sirius back into a downward spiral. Remus pulled him back with gentle kisses and caresses and whispering and murmuring. He stabilized Sirius, kept him from falling over the edge again and again.
Remus took a job at Hogwarts, teaching Defense Against The Dark Arts and coming home on the weekends. Sirius stayed home with Harry and took a day job in The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry went to Muggle primary school, and hated every minute of it. When Harry couldn't take it any longer, Remus took him to school for the week. Harry loved Hogwarts, it's endless corridors hypnotizing him and capturing his interest.
Sirius dedicated his days to finding the man that he blamed for Lily and James's death, Peter Pettigrew. He ranted for hours at heads in fireplaces and at Remus. Remus had described Sirius as "manic" more than once, and it was true.
