Sirius woke up that night to the sound of sniffles. His first thought was, admittedly, What on Earth is Snivellus doing in my room?!
He then realized that the noise sounded like it was coming from a young person. Besides, what would Snape be doing in his room?
Sirius opened his eyes very reluctantly and pushed himself against the pillows. A tiny, brown-haired figure was hunched over in the corner of the room, hands over his face.
"Harry?" he asked, wondering if his godson was sick again. "Harry, what's wrong?"
A head peeped out from under the hands, and Sirius could guess that Harry had been crying. He switched on the lamp.
Sure enough, tears were readily streaming down Harry's face and onto his sheep-covered pajamas. He looked away from Sirius, as though ashamed.
"Come here." Sirius had tried to make his voice sound gentle and reassuring. Instead, it sounded stern and rather harsh.
Even so, Harry obeyed. He climbed, with some difficulty, onto the bed. Finally, Sirius reached out and pulled him in his arms, holding him tightly. The sniffles subsided somewhat. Harry pulled away from the hug after a few minutes and made himself comfortable on Sirius' lap.
"Now, what's wrong?" Sirius questioned, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"N-nothing." Harry squirmed out of Sirius' reach.
Sirius turned to give Harry a stern look. "Don't lie to me," he admonished, rather harsher than he had intended.
Harry looked away, face reddening. "Sorry," he mumbled.
Let's try a different approach, then, Sirius thought.
"Do you feel sick?" Sirius asked.
Might as well get one thing out of the way. Less to worry about that way.
If anything, that made things worse. Harry shook his head, but moved even farther away from Sirius, as though he had some deadly disease.
What was wrong with Harry? He never acted this way before. He had been fine at dinner earlier, and when Sirius had said good night, Harry seemed perfectly content.
Sirius tentatively reached out as though to take his godson's hand. Harry just continued to back away.
Whatever's bothering him, it's serious. Have I done anything?
Sirius ran through the events of the last few hours carefully, but couldn't think of anything he had done to provoke this kind of a reaction. Finally, he gave up.
"Want a pillow, then? Might be more comfortable than the railing," he tried.
Harry nodded shyly. "Okay," he mumbled.
Sirius reached for one of the many pillows that occupied his bed and handed a large, soft, light blue one over.
Harry took it, slightly hesitant, and curled up against it. Sirius tried not to sigh. "You can use the blankets if you want."
"N-no, I can't," came the tiny voice.
"What?"
Harry turned to face Sirius and looked as though what he was saying was obvious. "Your feet are under the blankets, and you're wearing slippers. They'll strangle me."
Oh. A nightmare, then. Well, Sirius had had plenty of experience with those.
"Did shoes strangle you earlier? When you were sleeping?"
Harry nodded. "But those had those strings on them," he clarified.
"Ohhh. You mean like the kind that I sometimes wear?" Sirius questioned, remembering a hideous pair of Vernon's that he would occasionally borrow for muggle business.
"Yeah. They tried to. . ." Harry paused and then put his hands around his throat. "Do that to me."
"Strangle you," Sirius corrected without thinking. Well, that certainly explained everything. Harry must have thought the event really happened.
"Yeah. I don't want yours to hurt me." He seemed a little less scared now. He was slowly inching toward Sirius, as though scared he would become a giant shoelace and bite him.
"It was just a dream, Harry," Sirius soothed, cautiously extending an arm towards him. "It's not real. It can't happen to you."
Well, I imagine that if someone placed a Strangling Charm on some shoelaces…Sirius conceded inwardly, trying to hide a grin at the image.
"It felt real," he protested, folding his arms in frustration. "It hurt."
"I know it felt real, and I'm sure that in your dream it must have hurt. But Harry, it didn't happen. It's all right. You're safe. And I promise you, my shoes aren't going to hurt you."
Harry inched forward so that he was within an arm's length of his godfather.
"Promise?" he asked, still suspicious.
"I promise," Sirius replied kindly. "Now, do you want to stay here, or go back to your bed?"
Harry eyed the bed with an appraising look. "Here," he decided.
"You'll have to be next to me, then," Sirius warned.
"So?" Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes. He tried to get under the covers but failed, lacking the energy.
With a rush of tenderness, Sirius laughed, becoming increasingly tired himself. "Here, let me," he whispered as he pulled the covers aside.
Harry crept in and nestled against a pillow, hands propped under his neck. Sirius pulled the blankets on top of him and then settled against his godson, pulling an arm around him. Just as he was about to fall asleep though, he felt Harry's foot brush against his own. He wouldn't have thought anything of it, though, except a piercing scream came a few seconds later.
"Sirius, your feet are freezing!" Harry nearly wailed.
Sirius opened his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled, too tired to be apologetic. He merely put the other hand around Harry's shoulders, hoping vaguely that the display of love would show what he was almost too tired to feel.
"It's okay," Harry replied, but he moved his foot away from Sirius' as though it stung. He did, however, curl up closer in Sirius' arms, and knew that there wouldn't be any more shoe attacks that night.
"'Night, Sirius," he whispered.
"Sweet dreams, Harry," was the response.
Moments later, sleep claimed Sirius.
The next morning, Sirius woke up feeling extremely cold. When he opened his eyes, he realized that all of the blankets had been wrest from him during the night. Harry was curled up in them with a peaceful look on his face. Sirius felt his forehead and saw that Harry was also very warm.
How could he not be, with two million blankets surrounding him? He questioned sheepishly.
It was a very cute picture. The fact remained, however, that Sirius was both freezing and tired. The only logical response, then, was to coax Harry out from under the covers and persuade him to share some of the blankets.
"Harry?" he tried.
The ball rolled over somewhat on its side.
"Harry? I need some covers, too. It's freezing."
Two green eyes opened and stared at Sirius. "What are you doing here?"
"It's my bed, puppy," was the gentle response. "You had a bad dream yesterday."
"With the shoes." Harry yawned. "Is it time to wake up?"
Sirius glanced at the clock. 6:30. Not even remotely. "Nope. But I'm cold, so do you mind sharing?"
Harry very reluctantly untangled himself from the covers so that they left enough room for Sirius to crawl under.
"Thanks," he replied, truly grateful. "Can I have a hug, too?" he added.
The warm muffin nodded and embraced Sirius, burying his head in his sleeping robes. Sirius felt the heat from both Harry and the covers seep into him as he relaxed, holding his godson close to his heart.
They stayed like that for awhile. Sirius just listened to Harry's breathing which, somehow, soothed him. They lay on their sides to that Harry was completely enveloped in Sirius' arms, yet they were both able to breathe. Harry balanced out Sirius' robes as a sort of pillow, his head nearly smothered in them.
Finally, Sirius got up and stretched, gently repositioning Harry back into the covers, who let out a small murmur of protest.
"Stay," he pleaded, half asleep. "Don't go."
He could hardly refuse this response. "Just a few minutes, puppy," he replied, trying to hide a grin.
Harry smiled happily and pushed himself up in bed, clearly wanting to hug his godfather. Sirius immediately put his arms around Harry's shoulders. Almost instinctively, he began to rub his godson's back, his hands working around his shoulders. Just like how his favorite uncle used to after his parents screamed at him for befriending Lupin, a werewolf, or dating a mere half blood.
His thoughts were interrupted by Harry's mumbling. "What are you doing?" he asked in a sleepy tone, tilting his head to one side.
"Do you like it?" Sirius questioned, wondering if he had been hurting Harry.
"Yeah, it's nice." There was a long pause before Harry continued. "Did Daddy know how?"
Sirius nearly flinched at the unexpected question. He barely managed to reply, "Yes, he taught me," when a tear came.
Knock it off, Sirius! He commanded himself. Another part of him, though, was saying, There's nothing wrong with getting upset. You and Harry will both need to talk about it someday.
He forced himself to concentrate on something else. Anything else. He listened to Harry's breathing for awhile, hearing the five year old take deep, steady breaths. Not aware that anything was really wrong.
He's so innocent. . . Sirius marveled. So young. . .
Harry must have guessed that something was wrong, because he asked then, "Did Remie know, too?"
"No, we did it for him after his transformations. In the hospital wing, usually. He always looked terrible, even worse than today because the wolfsbane potion hadn't been invented then. Well, your dad was better at giving back rubs than I was, but Remus insists that I'm pretty good," Sirius remarked.
"You are." Harry turned to face his godfather. "Very good," he emphasized.
Sirius managed a grin. "Thanks," he whispered, wrapping Harry in a long, soothing embrace. "I love you. You know that, right?"
"You only tell me every day," Harry replied, grinning widely as he rolled his huge green eyes.
Sirius wished he could have smiled back, but it was as though there was a boulder in his stomach.
"Sometimes I'm not so sure you know, or if I'm doing things the right away. You are a son to me, Harry, but I haven't exactly had much experience with kids before you. Aside from being one. I still am fifteen at heart, I guess," he admitted, wondering if it was at all appropriate to be voicing these doubts to a five year old.
Then again, who really had the right to make these decisions for him?
"Sirius, of course I know," Harry replied with fervor. He broke away from the hug so that he could look Sirius in the eye. "I love you so much."
"Thanks, puppy," Sirius replied, somewhat weakly.
"One thing, though," Harry added with a devious look in his eyes.
"Oh?"
"Your feet are still freezing!"
Sirius threw a pillow at Harry in response.
A/N: I apologize for the LONG delay. Classes, work, computer failure, and lack of inspiration will do that to you. I hope to get up to the point where Harry starts Hogwarts by the time the seventh book comes out, but could use some advice for in between chapters (namely plot). I have the few editions—though I don't know how it will work into chapters—but want to wait a little before posting to be sure I still have some readers.