A/N: I'm on a roll so two chapters at once today! This is sort of a part two to the previous chapter. Enjoy!
As their letters continued, for the first time in his life Harry started to feel loved and cared about, even if only from a distance. It was wonderful and intoxicating. He felt greedy for more. He imagined getting a real hug or kiss. An affectionate ruffle of his hair like Uncle Vernon did to Dudley. He built a picture of a faceless Sirius Black in his mind, watching his mouth as it formed the words, "I love you, Harry." Harry felt greedy for wanting more but he couldn't help picturing it.
What do you look like? I keep imagining you and I don't know if what I am imagining is you. Harry wrote in one of his letters, wanting as accurate an image as possible for his imaginary Sirius.
In Harry's mind Sirius was strong, handsome and brave, like the hero of a story. But really Sirius could look and be any way and he would still be a hero to Harry.
Sirius drew a jerkily sketched cartoon of himself for Harry. The Sirius in the picture had black hair like Harry and he was smiling. Harry rested it next to his pillow so he could see it when he was in bed and clutched it in his hand at night. His Sirius. He would look at it when he was sad and immediately grin.
Sirius tried to describe himself in writing in the letter that came with the picture.
Well I'm not sure what I look like these days, no mirrors in here, but I used to be quite a looker. Black hair like your dad but longer, a bit wavy and tidier. Not that that was hard! James' hair was permanently messed, have I told you that? He tried fighting it at first. Used to pile on the Sleekeasy's like nobody's business - your granddad invented that stuff you know – messy hair runs in your family - but eventually your dad gave up and declared he was embracing his natural look.
He made it messier on purpose after that, it became his thing. A James Potter trademark. Loads of kids tried to copy it of course. We were really popular in school, everyone wanted to be like your dad and me. If we said it was cool, it was cool. So James adapted the Sleekeasy's formula and invented his own hair gel that mussed your hair up instead of flattening it, made it look like you just jumped off a broom. Chip off Monty Potter's old block, your dad was – always tinkering around wanting to invent things. Everyone was desperate to buy it before we even made it. James roped me in, of course. I was the same way - we came up with some cracking inventions back in the day. I think Sleekeasy's added the stuff to their line eventually. Your dad took it to the extreme though. Even with the gel in he was always running his hand through his hair to ruffle it up. Every few minutes, like a reflex. Especially when he saw your mum coming.
Harry was amazed. He could hardly imagine a popular person being his father, having experienced only the exact opposite for himself because of Dudley. Maybe Harry could be popular like his dad one day. He was quite fun, he thought. He certainly amused himself, because no one else did. If he didn't have Dudley around, if he had a friend like Sirius, maybe Harry would be cool and everyone would want to be friends with him just like his dad.
Sirius always said he bet Harry was going to be just like James. That was one of his favourite things to say. Apparently Harry was already a keen flier as a baby (Harry couldn't believe he'd already flown and couldn't remember it! He couldn't wait to try thatagain one day!) had the beginnings of James' black hair sprouting and used to laugh at Sirius' jokes even aged one – this was all the evidence Sirius needed and Harry was more than happy to be compared to his father. He hoped he really was like him and wouldn't let Sirius down.
It was wonderful to feel the connection, the sense of identity. Harry loved all the details he got from Sirius. Hearing about his dad's unruly hair, he delighted at the thought of another similarity. It used to make Harry feel bad when his Aunt despaired of his hair. Now it was a source of pride. Harry immediately began purposefully running his hand through his hair and messing it up, feeling closer to his dad every time he did it.
It quickly became a habit for Harry as much as it had been for his dad. Severus Snape would one day despise upon meeting him that Harry had somehow inexplicably picked up this most hated trait despite not growing up with James at all.
Anyway I used to wear my hair longer than your dad, about shoulder length. Sirius wrote.
It's almost at my belly button now – can you imagine! They don't cut it here. Got a big long beard now too - dread to think what I look like, must be well creepy. Getting rid of that soon as I'm out, first order of business after having a wash. I used to shave. I've got blue eyes, pale blue, more of a grey really. Family trait that – most of my family – the Blacks – have eyes like mine. Eyes like stars, my old mother used to say. Like ice, more like. Hers, at least. What else? Classic pureblood bone structure, if you go in for that sort of thing. Cheekbones that could cut glass, Moony said. And that was before I got skinny in prison. Used to be quite fit and muscley but sitting around here for years I've gotten out of shape. My cheeks will probably be hollow like a skeleton when you first see me. I might look a bit scary. Sorry. Muscles waste away if you don't use them and I'm scrawny on what they feed us here. I hope I won't look too bad and frighten you but if I do don't worry, I'll sort myself out soon as we get ourselves a place to live and I can clean up a bit and get back in shape.
I've done an excellent drawing for you anyway with my amazing artistic talents. Harry snorted with laughter when he read this. Your own personal mini Padfoot until the real me can arrive. Have I told you about our nicknames? Mine's Padfoot, your dad was Prongs, then there's our other mate Moony, I know I've mentioned Moony…
Harry added all the details to his mental picture of Sirius. He drew pictures on paper sometimes. At break time in school when no one was looking, in his cupboard if he managed to sneak some extra bits of paper that he didn't want to save for writing letters. Sirius standing in the garden waving on the day he comes to get Harry. Sirius and Harry in their new house. Harry and Sirius flying on broomsticks.
Harry even tried to draw some pictures of his parents from Sirius' descriptions. For as long as Harry could remember he had wanted to draw his mum and dad and not known what to draw. Now he had so much information from Sirius. He drew his mum's long red hair and freckles and green eyes. He drew her in the platform boots Sirius said she loved, reading a book about Charms. He drew his dad holding a golden ball with wings and putting his hand on his his hair with Sirius next to him smiling and lots of other boys around copying them. He drew his mum and dad in their house with their cat and baby Harry. They were all smiling, even the cat. Harry folded the pictures up with his letters and kept them hidden from everyone.
Harry was even brave enough to send Sirius a picture of his parents with one letter, asking if it was close to what they really looked like. Sirius wrote back that the picture was brilliant with lots of exclamation marks and said how happy he was to have it to brighten up the place. There were smudges on that letter as though it had gotten wet in little spots while Sirius was writing it.
After that Harry sent him more pictures – some of Harry and Sirius doing things Harry imagined they'd do when he lived with Sirius one day, some of stories Sirius told him, some of things Harry thought up or imagined like funny monsters or animals. Each time he drew a new picture he either folded it away for Sirius or kept it for his collection.
Sirius' Azkaban cell was soon covered floor to ceiling in Harry's pictures and letters. They may as well have been a wall of Patronuses.
Harry took some coloured pencils home from school, one at a time so no one noticed them missing. He sent them to Sirius and asked for a picture of his mum and dad and got back Sirius' cartoons of his parents and baby Harry to join his black and white cartoon Sirius.
In response to Sirius' warning about looking scary Harry wrote:
Don't worry you could never be scary to me. You're my godfather.
Harry repeated, "You're my godfather" a lot - as an explanation or justification for just about anything. It was his new mantra. The new most important fact in the world to him, topping everything else.
Sirius asked Harry to fill him in on his life from one to six. Harry told him all about the Dursleys and Sirius got increasingly furious and as he realised the extent of how miserable and mistreated Harry was.
A few hours with those Dudsley muggles at James' engagement party was miserable enough, I can't imagine living with them. Almost as bad as the Blacks! You have my deepest sympathies Harry, truly. Believe me when I say that I understand growing up with awful people who are nothing like you. Stay strong, we'll have you out of there soon.
It was easier for Harry to be brave and bear the Dursleys when he had someone to share the burden, and Sirius' encouragement and support.
Sirius never could resist the fuel of righteous anger and realised he couldn't wait to go the legal route to freedom. He needed to get to Harry and rescue him from his miserable situation as soon as possible and he'd deal with proving his innocence later when other more important matters were taken care of.
Sirius set to work on a plan. Starving himself to fit through the bars of his cell would take weeks, and the journey down to Surrey would take weeks more, so he had plenty of time to continue talking with Harry, swapping stories, telling him more about magic, and every little detail he could think of about his parents, from the way James' tie was always lopsided to the ear-splitting pitch of Lily's voice when she was trying to win an argument. Each letter won Harry further and further over, elevating Sirius not only to a place of great affection in Harry's heart but to practically hero-like status in his esteem.
Sirius asked Harry what he looked like too.
I bet you're the spitting image of James now. You looked so much like him even as a baby. Your mum's eyes though.
Harry loved reading this. For weeks afterwards he looked in mirrors thinking this what my dad looked like. These are my mum's eyes. He wanted to ask Aunt Petunia if she thought that about his eyes too but knew better than to bring it up.
Eventually Sirius was skinny enough to just about fit through the bars as Padfoot and wrote to Harry telling him he'd had enough, he had a plan and was coming to get Harry, warning him to pack his things and be ready.
Are you really? That would be amazing. I won't get my hopes up in case you can't think of a way (I know people don't usually break out of prison.) Harry wrote back.
Usually? Forget usually! I'm Sirius Black, remember. Have I taught you nothing, Harry? Sirius responded. Harry could almost picture him grinning as he read it. He could tell from his writing Sirius must have an excellently mischievous grin.
That would be amazing! That would be the best thing that has ever happened to me. I used to dream about my dad being secretly alive or a long lost relative coming to rescue me. I can't believe it is really coming true. I really hope you are real and not my imagination or Dudley playing a trick on me. If this is Dudley stop it now it is not funny. Harry wrote.
You seem very convinced I'm Dudley. Maybe I am! Chomp chomp, punch punch, whine whine whine. Oh no, have I given myself away? (Harry, reading the letter, laughed. Even on paper Sirius was so funny.) Believe me, I know the feeling of not being able to believe your luck. I remember when I turned up at your grandparents' for good and they ushered me in no questions asked. My room was already ready for me. Your dad tackled me for not coming sooner. I'm more than happy to repay the favour. Sirius wrote.
Sirius sent one final letter letting Harry know he was on his way. They decided it would be easier for Harry to disappear from school than the Dursley's house. He found out his school's address for Sirius.
If you see a big black dog with grey eyes telling you to follow it, go with it. I can't say why here but trust me, I'll explain in person. Have your things packed and ready to go, I'm not sure exactly when I'll be able to come.
Harry kept the letters from Sirius along with the one from his mother to his Aunt Petunia and his drawings all together in a bunch and with him at all times in case he suddenly had to leave. Tucked in the waistband of his trousers, under his t-shirt. They were his only valuables. Reminders that he was loved and had a family. He didn't bother packing anything else.
A/N: Here we go! Sirius is coming!