It is more two hours before he hears the soft sounds of the baby waking. It's after four in the afternoon, the sky already starting to darken. Harry will be hungry, he doesn't know when he was last fed a proper meal apart from that bottle. He gets up, pulling the quilt over Sirius, and picks up Harry before he can begin to cry. Before either of them can begin to cry.
The baby's querulous 'Mama?' makes him falter, but he holds Harry on his hip in the kitchen and starts to learn the new task of making food one-handed. A soft-boiled egg, strips of buttered toast his mother called soldiers, cut a little clumsily, slices of apple for after.
There is no highchair, so he sits at the table that forms the boundary between the kitchen and sitting room with the baby on his lap, helping him with his little tea, absentmindedly eating the chewed bits of eggy toast and apple Harry drops. The little boy is more subdued than usual, but at least has an appetite. The distraction of the meal helps him avoid thinking about what happened on this table last time he was home.
At the sound of a throat clearing from the bedroom door he looks up to see Sirius watching him. Sirius is about to say something, about bringing up the child alone, he expects, how things are finished between them. But Sirius doesn't get the chance to speak. They are both startled by a knock on the door.
Sirius goes to open it and silently ushers their old headmaster into the sitting room. Dumbledore looks around the room, always rather untidy despite Remus's best efforts, but mostly clean, at Sirius standing in the centre, at Remus, at the baby on his lap, at the photograph of them with James and Lily at their wedding on the table beside the armchair, so happy, the little photo of newborn Harry beside it. Sirius does not offer him a seat.
There is no trace of the familiar twinkle in the old man's eyes today. He is solemn, almost stern. 'I think you must know why I'm here, Mr Black,' he says quietly.
Sirius sticks his chin out a little. He is not going to make this easy. 'Nope. No idea.'
'I wish first to offer my deepest condolences at the loss of your very dear friends. Their deaths have shaken us at Hogwarts, deeply,' the professor continues. 'And to bring you up to date with events of which you may not be aware. Voldemort has vanished, vanquished, it seems, for now. You may, like many, have been baffled as to why he did not manage to kill the child?'
As Dumbledore explains Lily's sacrifice and the charm it created, Sirius sinks on to the sofa again. Remus sits silently at the table, listening, occasionally distracted by Harry wriggling on his lap. Voldemort is gone. It explains the happy clusters of witches and wizards he saw that morning, the werewolves' sudden fear.
'What about Pettigrew?' Sirius asks, bitterness seeping out of every pore. 'I'll find him. I know some of the places he holes up in.'
'Ah,' Dumbledore says. 'He too is dead. Benjamin Fenwick confronted him. Alas, poor Benjamin. Mr Pettigrew appears to have gained powers we did not understand he possessed. Powers he can only have gained under Voldemort's tutelage. I am very sorry to have to report that he attacked our dear friend Benjamin with a curse, the force of which blew him quite apart. The strength of the curse was so great it hit Mr Pettigrew as well. He may not have been in full control of a curse of that magnitude. All that remains of him is one finger. It occurred in a street full of Muggles. I have my information from a member of the Obliviator Squad, who were able to question some of the witnesses before altering their memories. The story that will be disseminated is that it was an explosion from a gas pipe in the street. An unfortunate accident.'
'But now,' Dumbledore presses on, looking sharply over his half-moon glasses at Sirius, who has barely reacted to the news of Peter's death. Peter must have been dead to him the minute he was revealed as the traitor. 'You must let me take the boy. I understand from our mutual friend Hagrid that you believe you can bring him up yourself, that you are even entitled to do so. But I must explain to you that this cannot be. His place is with family, with blood relatives of his mother's. Only there can he be protected, only there can his mother's charm take effect.'
'Bullshit,' bursts out of Sirius, standing again, crossing the floor to the headmaster. 'James and Lily wanted him to come here. You know that. We can protect him better than Muggles who didn't even want to know Lily, who haven't even acknowledged that Harry exists.'
Dumbledore shakes his head, smiling silently, mirthlessly to himself. 'I know you believe that, dear boy.' Remus fears that Sirius will hit the old man for patronising him in this way. But Sirius holds himself tall, together. 'Yes. I know it. If Voldemort's gone, there's no danger. We will look after him.'
'Mr Black, Voldemort may well come back one day, in fact, is certain to, and the child will need all his mother's protection then. Besides, you are a young man. Apart from the very urgent need for Harry to live with his blood relatives, his aunt is herself a mother. She has a child. Experience. You know nothing about caring for a baby. Nor,' Dumbledore glances briefly at Remus, 'does Mr Lupin here.'
'James and Lily didn't have a clue about babies either before they had Harry,' he interrupts, speaking for the first time since their former headmaster entered the room.
Sirius nods. 'That's right. They didn't know anything. But they learnt. And I've learnt. I know what he likes to eat – so does Remus,' he says, gesturing at the demolished remains of Harry's tea. 'I know the songs he likes at bedtime. I know how to dress him. I know how to change his nappy. I even know what type of cream he needs on his bum to stop him getting a rash.'
'Jiggers' Best Balm,' Remus echoes quietly, before he realises he has spoken. Sirius looks at him, and for just a moment a short bark of laughter escapes him.
'Jiggers' Best fucking Balm,' Sirius spits out. 'So, as you see, Professor, we've had fifteen months to learn about babies. We may not have been there every minute, but we know him better than anyone except his parents.' He crosses to the table and takes the baby from Remus, ignoring the crumbs and scraps of egg on Harry's fingers and face. Remus gets up and stands beside Sirius. It has not escaped him that Sirius used a plural pronoun.
Dumbledore looks closely at them both. 'Ah. Such determination. But there is one, not insignificant issue you have not taken into account.' He inclines his head to Remus. 'The fact that one of you is a werewolf? That he will be a grave danger to a child?'
Remus is staggered, nearly gasps. That Dumbledore – Dumbledore, his great defender, the one who made it possible to go to school with other children, who always treated him as an equal, not a monster – could use this against him. It is like a blow to the stomach. It is devastating. But it is true. There is no point defending himself.
*** Thanks for reading so far. Can Sirius and Remus persuade Dumbledore? Last chapter coming up. Please review if you have time – reviews are like Jiggers' Best Balm on nappy rash. ***
