Disclaimer: No…not yet…mwahaha…
A/N: So SO SORRY for the delay in updating, folks! RL has been something else as of late.
I don't have much of a stable internet connection, so I couldn't respond to all my wonderful reviews personally, but to those I've missed, THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH! I absolutely adore any and all feedback I get, and I'm so terribly sorry that I didn't get a chance to say so! But I read every review, and they all make my day, so thank you so much to everyone for that!
To everyone who followed this story, or favourited it, I thank you as well, from the bottom of my heart! It makes me feel incredible knowing that anyone enjoys what I write.
To the guest who reviewed and asked why Remus' smile was strained in the hospital chapter... it's because he's always conscious of people discovering the reason behind his nickname :) It was just to show his paranoid side. Don't apologize though! Details are always good! ;)
Enjoy the chapter, and watch the bottom for another quick poll!
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Foreign warmth falling upon his face, awakened the Potter heir from the best sleep he'd had in half a decade.
Green eyes popped open, momentarily disorientated. Harry took in the walls with lions running around them, the big wooden wardrobe, the almost unnatural amount of space, and the dark red curtains that blocked the sunlight, but not the warmth.
I'm in Daddy's old room.
The thought made the young Potter smile brilliantly. Though a glance at the clock told him it was a little after 5am, he had slept soundly, much more comfortable here than in his cupboard or in the hospital, and he could still hardly believe his luck for having Padfoot and Moony in his life.
It was only then that Harry registered another presence in the (amazingly) large bed. Next to him, with his arm outstretched towards Harry in his sleep, was Padfoot himself! His face was creased in a frown, and Harry worried that his guardian – his Godfather – was having a bad dream.
Unsure how to stop it, or help, since he'd always simply dealt with his nightmares alone, Harry debated between calling Moony, and trying to wake Sirius himself. Mulling over his options, the young Potter suddenly wondered whether he could comfort Padfoot without waking him up.
Thinking it was as good an idea as any, Harry tentatively patted the man's shoulder. "It's okay, Padfoot," he whispered kindly. "It's just a bad dream. Don't be scared. I'll protect you."
He kept his quiet comfort up for a few minutes, and beamed in triumph when Sirius' face slackened back into peaceful sleep. He felt quite proud of himself, for helping his Godfather, and thought it was a small step towards thanking the man for all he was giving Harry.
Another thing to show his thanks, to both his new guardians, could be to start his chores. While he hated them at Privet Drive – since they was punishable with a beating when it wasn't completed timeously and to his Aunt and Uncle's satisfaction – Harry's face now lit up at the thought of helping his two new guardians, who hadn't made him cook or clean anything since he'd come to the castle.
Carefully climbing out of bed so as not to disrupt Sirius, Harry proceeded to tip toe to the kitchen, taking care not to make noise in front of Moony's room either. When he arrived at the kitchen, remembering where it was from the tour he had been given yesterday, he began to rummage in the cupboards, taking out ingredients for pancakes and eggs and bacon. He made use of his slight frame, climbing up to the higher places he couldn't reach, and very carefully turned on the stove.
He pushed a chair up against the counter, where he could stand on it to reach the hot plates, wincing at the sound of scraping against the tiled floors. He waited a few beats and, when it became obvious that the sound hadn't awoken his guardians, he adjusted the temperature knobs as he usually had them.
Aunt Petunia had taught him how to make breakfast for them when he had turned five, and since then, he'd learned to make some lunches too. He was excused from dinner, mostly because whatever was being made was generally at least three-quarters of his own size. Pancakes, eggs and bacon, however, were staples that he had been making for more than a year now.
Harry worked as carefully and efficiently as he could, thanking his eidetic memory for remembering all the steps. He got scorched a few times, usually when trying to transfer the food to plates, but it was nothing he hadn't had before. Certainly not as bad as the time that he had burned the bacon and Uncle Vernon had thrown the contents of the pan at him. The residual oil had burned small scars on his forearm that weren't very noticeable but had hurt terribly at the time.
Forty-five minutes later, the kitchen held the aroma of deliciously cooked food. Two plates stacked with pancakes, a bowl of eggs, and another two plates of bacon, sat on the table, since Harry wasn't sure whether Padfoot and Moony would want to eat at the dining room or in here. The child, too mature for his own good, put the stove off and used a dish cloth to move the skillet and pans off the hot plates. He had just jumped off his chair, about to move it back into place, when…
"Prongslet!"
Harry startled at the yell, arising from upstairs. Instinctively, he backed away a few paces, eyes quickly searching out hiding spaces. His heart was in his throat as a door slammed open, and then another, before Padfoot shouted his name again. It was only then, that Harry realized there was a stark note of concern, not anger, in his Godfather's voice.
Padfoot's worried? The concept was not difficult for the Potter heir to perceive, since the man seemed to have a similar response when Harry got lost yesterday. The child had mulled on it for a long while after they had returned from Diagon Alley, and had come to the conclusion that Padfoot was utterly fearless, and brave, and simply worried that Harry was not. He had vowed at that point, to prove to his Godfather that he could be brave too, like Padfoot and Moony were.
The young Potter shook himself from his shocked state, at the realization that he wasn't in trouble. By now, two pairs of thundering footsteps were heard coming down the stairs, and Harry padded outside the kitchen, on to the stairway landing, in plain view of his worried guardians.
Before he could say anything, both men let out enormous sighs of relief, Sirius coming to pick Harry up into a cuddle. Braced for it this time, the child simply wrapped his arms around his Godfather's neck.
"Oh, no… Did you have another bad dream?" he asked sympathetically, holding on tighter. "I'm sorry. I hate those."
Sirius and Remus laughed breathlessly. "I hate them too, puppy," Padfoot answered, pressing a kiss to the crown of Harry's head and sounding suspiciously like he was talking about something else entirely.
It was instantly forgotten when he looked at Remus. "Did you have a bad dream too, Moony?" Harry asked his other guardian, his eyes wide with concern as he registered the man's pale complexion.
"Yes, cub," he answered solemnly, looking oddly like he was still afraid. "The worst."
Wordlessly, Harry held out his arms to Remus, offering a hug. Part of him was still hesitant – the rules and this life with Padfoot and Moony was so different to his old life – but in that moment, the child thought it was worth risking a beating, if it meant also offering Remus comfort.
Thankfully, the amber-eyed man simply smiled warmly at him, plucking him out of Sirius' arms and wrapping him in a very warm, very gentle hug. Harry patted his back comfortingly, even as he snuggled close, enjoying the embrace. It was so different from Padfoot's, and yet, it filled Harry with just as much a sense of safety.
My memories were right, Harry realized in the back of his mind. They were always this wonderful.
Comforted by the thought, the young Potter began to build on that tiny seed of hope, feeding it with the knowledge that he was finally part of a family.
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"Prongslet! Supper's ready, pup!"
"Would it kill you to go outside and call Harry?" Remus asked dryly, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at the way Sirius hollered over his shoulder. Sirius made a show of thinking about it.
After a moment, he responded. "Probably wouldn't kill me…" he pursed his lips, tapping his chin mock thoughtfully. "But, better not risk it," he decided, smirking teasingly. Remus rolled his eyes long-sufferingly, chuckling when the Auror's only response was to stick out his tongue.
The old friends spent a moment in companionable silence, neither of them making a move towards the food as they waited for their young charge. After a few more beats, concern began to simmer in Sirius' chest.
He glanced at the door to the vast back yard that doubled as a quiddich pitch for the young Potter. "I'd better go check on him," the long-haired Marauder remarked, hiding his unease behind a strained smile. He told himself that he was being paranoid, and that the feeling of foreboding in his gut probably wasn't as bad as he was imagining, but even so, he gripped the handle of his wand as he made his way outside.
"Harry!" he called out, eyes scanning the sky for the familiar blur that was his Godson on a broom. "Come on, pup, time to get back inside!"
A few more moments passed before Lupin joined him outside, a worried frown on his face.
"Pads…Harry always answers us," he pointed out in a worried mutter. Wordlessly, both Marauders split up, searching for the little boy they loved so dearly. Sirius was quickly becoming frantic, his mind imagining the worst case scenarios.
Even his mind could not have come up with a scene as horrific as the one that met his eyes.
Harry lay on the ground, lifeless, his broom in splinters next to him. Voldemort stood over his body, cackling victoriously, while Wormtail knelt at Harry's form, mockingly caressing his hair and smirking maliciously. A particularly vicious tug of the child's hair and the subsequent wheezy giggle from Pettigrew, broke Sirius' shocked inaction.
"Harry!" he stumbled forward, snatching his Godson's prone body from Peter's grasp. The unnatural cold that met his fingertips made him stop, freezing even his murderous rage towards the traitor.
Harry was dead.
"No, Harry," Sirius breathed in horror, shaking his Godson desperately. The limp corpse provided none of the response he'd wished for. "No, no, no, Harry please! Not Harry! Anyone, but HAR-…"
"…-RY!"
Padfoot choked as he came awake, arms flailing. His heart pounded against his ribs in time with his gasping breaths and in a moment of total, disorientated panic, he thought he was still in that scene.
Nightmare, his mind provided helpfully. Just a bad dream.
A shuddering sigh of relief coursed through him and he took a few calming breaths. Pressing his palms against his closed eyes until stars exploded in front of his eyelids, the dog-animagus forced himself to think rationally; they were in Potter Manor, surrounded by powerful and near-impenetrable wards. They were all safe.
After returning home the previous night, the first thing he did was seek out his Godson. Sitting on the bed next to him, his hand running through the sleeping child's messy locks, it was all Sirius could do not to wake the Potter heir up, just so that he could hear his Godson's voice.
Remus had waited patiently, having followed Sirius to Harry's room, sitting on the armchair he'd vacated shortly after Harry fell asleep. The other Marauder had known better than to try and push Sirius; in that state, it was only his Godson that was holding him fast to solid ground, and Moony knew that.
The Auror recalled his conversation with Lupin, the werewolf's reaction to Pettigrew's escape almost as bad as his own. After Sirius had explained everything Madam Bones had told him, they had collectively decided to deal with the situation in the morning; both men were exhausted, and needed to properly absorb the repercussions of the night's happenings before they discussed it further. Remus retired to his room and Sirius, still too wound up by protectiveness and his separation anxiety issues, remained in Harry's room, falling asleep on the other side of the child's bed, one hand still brushing the young Potter's shoulder.
With a silent sigh, Sirius opened his eyes, hoping his forceful awakening hadn't startled his Godson from a peaceful sleep. Glancing to the side, Sirius' head snapped abruptly back when he saw the empty, rumpled covers.
Harry wasn't there.
Throwing back his covers with a strangled gasp, Sirius whipped his head around the room, hoping to catch a flash of jet black hair or a red pajama sleeve that meant Harry was simply hiding, playing a harmless prank. His heart in his throat when he saw no such thing, Padfoot stumbled out of bed, calling his Godson's name frantically.
Only a few moments after he'd burst into the hallway, Remus' door was thrown open as well. "What in Merlin's name is going on?" the werewolf asked tensely, his face taut with concern. At any other time, Sirius might have laughed or teased Lupin for his sleep-rumpled features, but the Auror only had one thing on his mind.
"Harry," he blurted out shortly, "I can't find Harry. He wasn't in his bed when I woke up and he isn't answering me."
It was so reminiscent of his nightmare that it only made Sirius panic faster.
The werewolf didn't waste time with pointless questions; he simply walked briskly towards the staircase, now also calling Harry's name. They were only a few steps down when Harry appeared on the landing, looking confused and a little nervous, but unharmed.
There was nothing that could have stopped Sirius from bolting forward and grabbing his little Godson in his arms.
A distant part of his mind registered, with no small amount of happiness, that Harry hadn't flinched at the contact. He dared to think that the young Potter was allowing himself to trust them – that he was slowly healing – and his hopeful thought was only bolstered when Harry willingly reached out for Remus.
It warmed a part of the Auror that he thought was long-forgotten, the way Harry comforted them so lovingly. His protectiveness was attributed to both his parents, but contrary to popular belief, it was probably more so from James than from Lily.
The beauty formerly known as Evans had been highly protective of her loved ones, of that there was no doubt, but Harry's approach was all James. Prongs had always exercised his protectiveness by one of either extreme; he was either full of righteous indignation, stepping forward in an instance and ready to attack or defend in the name of love, or he was gently sympathetic, reassuring and lending strength by his presence, in a soft way that he rarely showed. Lily had always held the middle ground, and Harry, like James, seemed to work in the extremes.
When it looked like Remus had taken his share of comfort, reassuring himself that their nightmare of Harry being harmed was not reality, the werewolf set the child back on the ground. The young Potter smiled up at the both of them, looking pleased.
Adrenaline subsiding, Sirius realized just how hungry he was, at the same time that a mouthwatering smell enticed his senses. He followed the scent to the kitchen, eyes widening at the delicious spread.
"I thought the elves were going to tackle the grounds today?" Sirius sent Remus a questioning look, absently reaching out to take Harry's hand. The house elves needed to tend to every inch of the Manor's vast lawns, in order for it to be a safe place for Harry to play, and Remus had assured them that they could take the whole day. It was an important job that needed to be done right, and both adults were certain they could handle meals and cleaning for one day, especially given that they planned on taking Harry to do some shopping at Diagon Alley… disguised, of course, as they had learned from their mistakes.
Lupin nodded back at Sirius in response. "They are," he muttered, looking perplexed even as his stomach audibly rumbled. "Maybe they cooked it, and then they deci-…"
"I cooked breakfast."
At Harry's plaintive statement, both Marauders gaped at him, torn between feeling aghast at all the possible things that could have gone wrong when a child and a hot stove were in the same equation, and gobsmacked that a six-year-old had any capability to do so without any of those things actually going wrong.
Harry, completely oblivious to his guardians' reactions, simply let go of his Godfather's hand and moved to the table to drag a chair back into place, presumably the same one he'd used to reach the stove. The very action hurt Sirius, and he finally found his voice.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Harry, Prongslet, what were you thinking?" he asked, horrorstruck. "You could've gotten hurt!" The dog-animagus knew he was testing the still-fragile strength of the trust his Godson had recently built up, but he couldn't help himself when he thought of all the things that could have happened while they were asleep.
"Cub," Remus interjected gently, shooting Sirius a warning look, "what Padfoot is trying to say, is that you don't need to do anything like this. That's our job, we're the adults. We're supposed to be taking care of you, remember?"
Sirius calmed himself down when he saw the timid, uncertain look Harry was sporting. The child was inching closer to Moony, obviously still unsure how the Auror was going to react.
Conjuring up a tender smile, Sirius knelt until he was level with Harry's gaze. "Moony's right, pup," he conceded softly. "I'm sorry I shouted, but remember, we've got new rules here. One of them, is that you don't have to do any of the stuff you did at those horrible muggles' house. Especially not cooking," he emphasized, gently stern. "You could get hurt, and then what would me and Remus do?"
"But, I'm bad when I don't do my chores," Harry replied in a tiny, confused voice that made the ache in Sirius' chest practically physical. "I wanted to show you and Moony that I was good. I wanted to help."
If he wanted to, the Auror couldn't have answered for the guilt that was eating him alive in that moment. How he could have allowed those filthy muggles to have his Godson for five years, he would never be able to rationalize or justify…
Remus, perhaps sensing Sirius' distress, took over, gently lifting Harry into his arms. The child went willingly, making Padfoot's chest pang again, this time with some other, foreign feeling.
"We already know you're the best little boy we could ever ask for, cub," Lupin soothed warmly.
Sirius nodded, stepping closer slowly, so as not to spook the child. "Of course you are, Prongslet," he agreed. "But, Rule Number 3 is that you don't do any more of the ridiculous chores you did at that thrice damned place."
"Although," Remus sent him an exasperated look at the cuss word, "let's say that your chore will be keeping your own room clean?" Before Sirius could object, Lupin shook his head. "Balance, Paddy," he said firmly. "It's all about balance."
Harry was nodding, looking relieved at the clarification of another one of his rules. "I can do that," he told them softly, silencing Sirius' protests. "Am I in trouble?"
"Not in the very least, pup," Padfoot answered. "I was worried, is all."
Harry still looked tentative, but at that statement – as was like his soft, sweet character – the child reached out to Sirius, making the Auror's chest burn with warmth and love. He took his Godson from Remus, cuddling him close and pressing a kiss to the messy black hair.
In turn, Harry snuggled closer, comforted. "You don't have to worry, Padfoot," he said consolingly, sounding too logical, too mature for his six years. "I wouldn't hurt myself."
Part of Sirius wanted to explain that he was worried, not that Harry was careless, but that all the equipment was so dangerous, not meant for a child his age and certainly not harmless. But another, stronger part of him, just wanted to put the incident behind them, start fresh. They all needed to be a little more careful, but that would be a thought for later on, when they were settled into something resembling routine. When Harry was comfortable and safe.
When they had solved the Pettigrew problem.
It weighed on Sirius' mind like dumbbells. Bones had steadfastly refused to have him on the case – too much of a vested personal interest, or some other shite she'd spouted – and no amount of pleading, yelling, threatening or bargaining seemed to help the Auror's case. He would have thought that his vested personal interest would be the very bloody thing that would make him invaluable on this bloody case…
Never before had he so sorely regretted passing up the promotion to Head Auror.
At the time, he'd thought that Amelia would have been a better fit than he; not because she was better than him, but because she was not. He thought that his skills, at the risk of sounding arrogant, were better utilized on the field than behind a desk, where he would invariably be, more often than not, as the Head Auror. He relished in the physical nature of his work, and there were too many politics that he hadn't the patience for. Amelia, on the other hand, had tolerance and strong will in abundance.
However good his reasoning had been then, it did nothing to serve his purposes now.
Sirius wasn't sure how exactly he planned on getting through this ordeal without being in the thick of things; standing idly by, useless, waiting for answers from people who could never have half as much reason as Sirius Black for wanting to see Peter Pettigrew caught…
He wasn't sure how far into that dark abyss he might have fallen, if not for the shy tug on his sleeve.
Harry was looking at him, green orbs intense and somehow speculative; out of place on his young face.
A beat later, Sirius realized he was clutching his Godson far too tightly. "Merlin, pup, I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, shaking his head as he loosened his grip. "Was I hurting you?"
The Auror studiously ignored the concerned stare he knew his friend was sending him, focused entirely on his Godson instead.
"I'm alright, Padfoot," Harry denied quietly, giving him a small smile that looked almost consoling.
But…how could Harry know to be consoling Sirius? How could the child almost always read his mood? Were 6 year olds supposed to be this perceptive?
Pushing his questions away for another time, Sirius nudged the child's temple with his nose. "Course you are," he replied affectionately. "Let's taste those pancakes, yeah?"
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"Ah, there you are, Harry. How has your day been, hmm? Productive, I hope?"
Lily shot him an amused look as Remus lifted a squealing, overexcited baby into his arms, patiently receiving the kiss to the cheek that was becoming customary for all the Marauders from their little heir. Well, for all of them except Wormy, funny enough.
"You always ask him that as though you expect him to answer you, Remy," Lily observed with a smile. "You do realize he's just shy of eleven months old, don't you?"
"But he does answer me, dear Lily. Honestly, you'd think you'd understand your own son by now." The werewolf rolled his eyes, sending the baby Marauder a sympathetic look. "Sorry, Prongslet, I see what you have to deal with every day."
The redhead huffed an exasperated sigh, missing the grin and mischievous wink that Lupin afforded little Harry.
Busying herself with picking up the toys Harry could hurt herself on, Lily asked over her shoulder. "Staying for supper, Remus? I know James and Sirius would love to see you."
"Is that alright?" the werewolf asked politely, grinning at the thought of seeing his best mates again. Things had been quite crazy of late, with all the Order business and Prongs and Padfoot's hectic schedules as Aurors, and the werewolf missed their school days sorely. Still, he was loathe to put Lily under the added strain…
His concern was quickly dispatched as the redhead sent him a baleful look. "I do wish you'd stop asking, Remus," she said dryly. "Merlin knows I'll deny it to death if you ever mention I said so, but…you could take a page out of Sirius' book and make yourself at home, here."
"Are you ill, Lily?" Remus asked sharply in mock concern. "Running a fever? Took a wonky potion?"
"No," she replied distractedly, throwing him a frown. "Why?"
"Because you're suggesting I act anything like one Sirius Black."
Lily laughed loudly, and Remus grinned at the squeal of happiness that the sound elicited from her son. Both of them sent fond looks at the oblivious baby, where he was now contentedly playing with Remus' collar, cuddled in the warmth of his arms.
"I can see why you'd think that I was ill," Lily smirked, "but I just mean that you're family. You need to remember that."
Warmth coiled in the werewolf's chest, making him smile softly. "I shall keep it in the very forefront of my mind."
"Good," Lily declared, eyes sparkling. "In the spirit of being family, I'm going to need you to watch Harry while I take a shower. Contrary to my darling son's opinion, I don't quite enjoy smelling like whatever edibles he can get his hands on," Lily directed her last statement at the giggling baby, who put his hands over his mouth, as if he'd been caught out. Grinning at the gesture, the young mother planted a kiss on Harry's head. "Perhaps you're right Rem," she mused. "He certainly seems like he understands more than I think."
A few minutes later saw werewolf and baby on the floor of the latter's playpen, actively 'discussing' the rise in current DE activity.
"Now, I won't lie to you, Harry," Remus told the young Potter solemnly, who was listening to every word with a remarkably grave expression for a ten-month-old baby. "Things are getting quite bad out there. But we will make sure nothing ever happens to you. You don't think those old sods could take out the Marauders, could they?"
"No!" Harry uttered seriously, with as much conviction as a baby could have. Remus grinned, tickling the young Potter's stomach. He loved it when the few random words that Harry knew, fit into their 'conversations'.
"That's right," he nodded. "We'll protect you, forever." Remus punctuated his vow by blowing a raspberry against the baby's hand. Harry began to giggle, but then his gaze suddenly fixed on a point above Remus' head…
"DADA!"
Lupin flinched slightly at the enthusiastic scream, his werewolf hearing heightening it. Chuckling lightly as the baby shot towards James in a speedy crawl, he accepted the hand up that a grinning Sirius offered him.
"There's my Mini-Marauder!" James scooped his son up into his arms. He peppered kisses all over the baby's face, to the sound of a peal of giggles, before puffing his own cheek out for Harry to peck. "Giving Moony dating advice again, mate?"
Harry, taking the question as his cue, began to babble a mile a minute, apparently having a lot to tell his father on the subject.
"I reckon Prongslet thinks it's a pointless pursuit," Padfoot commented seriously, before breaking out into a teasing grin. "He's got Lil's brains."
"Hey!" James and Remus protested at the same time, and Sirius took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to covet the baby Marauder. Harry, for his part, squealed in delight and patted his Godfather's face gently, almost lovingly, before pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek, too.
"Hello, love," Sirius murmured to the baby, nudging his temple with his nose. Remus snorted lightly when he recognized the gesture as Padfoot's, but he refrained from saying anything. "Did you trouble your mum for us?"
Harry, still giggling from Padfoot's greeting, didn't pay his Godfather's question quite as much attention as he did Sirius' wrist, where he knew the man's wand to be holstered. As usual, the Auror did nothing to stop his Godson's fidgeting, only plucking the wand away from the child once he'd held it in a manner vaguely resembling the right way up. Promptly, to distract the baby, he produced red and silver sparks from its tip.
The young Potter clapped his hands in delight, his face lit up with the simple happiness that only a child could have.
Remus drank in the sight of the one person who unified man and wolf, in their desire to protect the cub.
Moony vowed once more, to never allow the cub's face to lose that wonder and sense of joy.
Remus was jerked from his memories as Sirius pilfered half of his remaining pancake.
"Hey! Greedy mutt," Lupin grumbled, only half playfully. His disgruntlement was tempered at the giggles that poured from Harry's lips at his guardians' antics.
Sirius grinned back at him. "You snooze, you lose, Rem," he replied through a mouthful of food, and before the werewolf could wonder where he'd heard such a muggle phrase, Sirius added, "Lily," by way of explanation.
"Merlin," Remus huffed in exasperation, "at least swallow your food first, Pads. You're setting a terrible example for Harry."
On the contrary, the young Potter was laughing helplessly, no longer trying to stifle the mirthful sound. Both Marauders immensely enjoyed the sound, as it brought back a measure of hope for the baby they'd once known to reconcile with the abused little boy they'd fetched little more than a week prior.
Though he wasn't as vocal as Sirius was on the subject, Remus could suppress neither the raging guilt he felt for not protecting his best friend's son, nor could he suppress the fierce fury that pulsed through him at the thought of the atrocious treatment those monsters had inflicted on their little Marauder.
James' son.
Moony had seen the cub as something precious to the pack; the band of misfits they'd forged through years of friendship; and had cultivated an extraordinary protective streak accordingly, to safeguard the cub.
The love for Harry, from both man and wolf, made it all the more difficult for Remus Lupin not to take a cue from his last remaining best friend and tear Vernon and Petunia Dursley limb from miserable limb.
And alas, it was that same love that kept him from rashly following his instincts.
Harry – for all intents and purposes, his own nephew – deserved a life without all the violence and hatred and bloodshed that he'd already been exposed to. He deserved the life that James and Lily planned on giving him, and he deserved the best that Remus and Sirius could give him. Running off to fulfil their own thirst for vengeance, certainly wasn't that.
The werewolf was jarred from his own mind once again, this time by a pancake landing on to his plate.
"You can have my pancake, Moony," Harry smiled sweetly, his green eyes alight with love and sincerity. It was a huge relief to see those emotions, knowing that the action wasn't driven by the fear of irrational punishment. It meant even more, since Harry had been so heartbreakingly pleased that he would be "allowed" to eat the food he'd made; the fact that he would so easily share what he'd been previously deprived of, was telling of the type of person the young Potter was shaping up to be, against all odds. Remus marveled at the capacity for love and kindness that the young Potter held.
Not one to pass up a teachable moment, Remus cut the pancake in half. "Why don't we share it, cub?" he suggested with a fond smile, placing the slightly bigger piece on Harry's plate. His answer was in the form of a grin that brightened the entire kitchen.
It was among the best things that Remus had seen in half a decade.
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"Wow."
Sirius looked down at Harry, grinning at the breathy amazement that had filtered into his Godson's voice. Green eyes were opened wide, drinking in everything that could be seen, and the awe in his emerald orbs was something the dog-animagus allowed himself to enjoy, briefly.
Their first stop was Gringotts; Sirius needed to make a withdrawal, as well as finally get around to claiming the inheritance from his dearly departed mother, and Remus wanted to store Harry's official guardianship paperwork in his own vault of the goblin-operated establishment. For his part, their young charge was fascinated from the moment he entered the building.
"Why do they look so unhappy?" the child asked curiously, tightening his grip on Sirius' hand. The dog-animagus shot Remus a look, and it was returned with a shrug; obviously Lupin had no more of an idea as he did, on how to explain Goblin politics to a six-year-old.
Sirius returned his attention to his Godson, a smooth and elaborate explanation with no amount of truth in it, on his lips.
The words stuck in his throat. He couldn't…didn't want to lie to Harry. He wanted the young Potter to be able to trust him, and his gut told him that wasn't going to happen if Sirius lied to him.
So, with no small measure of uncertainty, Sirius shrugged. "It's a bit of a history lesson, pup, one I think you should only have when you're a bit older."
He waited for the tantrum, or at least the blatant displeasure he knew would have been the least of what would be forthcoming from him, if he was in Harry's position.
Instead, he got a nod and an amicable, "Okay."
Merlin, Sirius didn't know if Harry would ever cease to amaze him.
Before he could do much in the way of reacting, or praising his Godson for his good behavior, Sirius was interrupted by a streak of bubblegum pink launching at him. It only took him a second to gather his bearings, but when he did, he laughed.
"Merlin, Dora, you keep getting older every time I turn around," he joked, hugging his niece fondly. He pulled away, a harsh pang of guilt hitting him when he realized that Harry had tucked himself neatly behind Remus' leg, having lost the grip on Sirius' hand and having no clue who the stranger was that had invaded their space. The Auror mentally cursed himself. He should've known better than to let go of the child's hand, especially when Harry must have been scared to come back after their last mishap.
That foreign, unpleasant feeling returned as he watched Remus hold out his arms, his Godson eagerly allowing Lupin to carry him, snuggling into him in the same way he did when looking for comfort from Sirius. Before he could say anything, however, another voice chimed in,
"Hello, Cousin."
The Auror smirked at the greeting that was identical to her sister's. "Hullo, Andy," he grinned brightly, exponentially happier to see Andromeda that he had been to see Narcissa. "How've you been? How's Ted?"
"We're all quite well, Siri," Andy didn't quite return his smile. "Although, I might just need to hex you for keeping me out of the loop. Honestly, I had to hear through the grapevine that you had Harry! And Cissy knew before me, no less!"
Sirius quickly held up his palms defensively. "Not my fault," he claimed his innocence. "Harry helped the spawn of Malfoy after your dear sister lost him."
Andromeda tutted. "Excuses, excuses. Every time you've visited us, you've not once stopped complaining about how you miss your Prongslet, and when you finally have him with you again, you don't think to send as much as an owl?" She fixed him with a glare, and Sirius responded with a sheepish smile.
"I suppose I rather wanted to have him to myself for a while. Well, me and Moony," he amended, jerking his thumb in the direction of his old friend.
Remus smiled politely at Andromeda, nodding in greeting before turning his attention back to the child in his arms. Harry was still cuddled up to Lupin's chest, but at the mention of his name, he'd turned his face, pressing his cheek against Remus' heart even as his eyes darted between Sirius and the only cousin he could remotely stand.
Intelligent green eyes seemed to be scrutinizing them and Sirius was once again struck by the feeling that Harry was smarter than they knew. But the Auror found his attention once again diverted as Andromeda stepped closer to his Godson.
He loved his cousin, and recognized that she meant well, but Sirius knew that a strange adult was the last thing Harry needed.
He stopped her with a discreet hand around her elbow. "Not today, Andy," he muttered apologetically. "Give him time."
The woman stopped short, narrowing her eyes slightly in suspicion. "What's going on?"
Instead of answering her, Sirius looked at Remus, a silent question in his eyes. He didn't want Harry's traumatic childhood to be common information until the child could consciously decide who he wanted to know, but at the same time, he couldn't deny the advantages of having Andy's help. They had Remus' furry problem to think of, not to mention the fact that she was a mother herself… she could be good for Harry.
Remus seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he gave Harry a few soothing words before setting him down. The child seemed wary, but determined at the same time, and Sirius wondered what was going through his pup's head in that moment.
He couldn't dwell on it as Remus smiled tightly, nodding at him. "Might we have a moment, Andromeda?" he asked politely. "I wonder if we could discuss you and Ted coming over to Potter Manor sometime…"
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Remus had asked him to give them a minute to talk to the lady, and so help him, Harry was going to do so. It didn't matter that he was feeling a little uncomfortable, this was important and he was going to prove that he could be as good as they thought he was.
Harry bit his lip slightly, glancing up at where the adults were talking. Padfoot looked like he was concentrating really hard, and the lady looked… well, she looked like someone had just punched her in the stomach.
Not for the first time, he wondered how many cousins Padfoot had. This lady seemed very different to Draco's mummy. For one thing, Padfoot seemed to like her a lot more, and for another, she didn't seem nearly as conflicted as Draco's mummy did. Harry had noticed how Mrs. Malfoy had struggled to find a way to talk to him, but at the time, he'd been more worried that Padfoot and Moony might have been cross with him for helping Draco. Now, though, he wondered if perhaps Mrs. Malfoy and this lady that Remus called Andromeda, had been adopted cousins. It seemed rather sensible as far as theories went, but before he could mull it over, the girl with the bright pink hair jumped into his line of sight.
Automatically, Harry flinched backwards, forcing himself not to call out for Padfoot. The girl didn't seem to notice, but instead of hitting him like Dudley's friends used to, she offered him a bright smile.
"Wotcher Harry!" She tucked her hair behind her ear, grinning all the while. "My name's Tonks!"
The 6 year old blinked, pitifully unused to friendly displays. He could read nothing but happy excitement on the girl's face, and his gut told him that she was not going to hurt him. Besides, if Padfoot liked her, she must not be bad, he figured.
Shaking his head slightly, he frowned in confusion. "Nuh-uh," he refuted uncertainly, his voice soft. Remembering Padfoot's other name, he elaborated, "Sirius called you Dora."
The girl scrunched up her nose, making Harry giggle slightly. "I hate that name," she complained, crossing her arms. "Dora's alright… but I prefer Tonks," she nodded decisively. "S'what all my friends call me, anyway."
Harry smiled hesitantly. Was that her way of offering to be his friend?
"I like Tonks," he ventured with a shy nod. "It suits you."
She beamed at him, grabbing him in a hug that made him gasp. As soon as she pulled away, Harry took a step back, but if she noticed, she didn't say anything.
"Thanks, Harry!" Tonks grinned happily. "You're pretty wicked, for a kid. I can see why Uncle Sirius missed you so much."
At this information, Harry brightened, his chest filling with happiness. "Padf-…Sirius missed me?" he asked, his excitement snowballing. It never ceased to amaze him that Padfoot and Moony wanted him, but they had wanted him before as well?!
"Oh, yeah," Tonks nodded emphatically. "Mum says Uncle Sirius loves you probably more than anyone in the world." Harry had no response to that, so elated was he to think that he was wanted, so it was a good think that the girl kept talking. "I think that makes us cousins too, sort of… like Mum and Uncle Sirius. Whaddaya think, Harry?"
"Oh!" The young Potter looked vaguely uneasy at making such a big decision. "I don't know… should we ask them? Moo-…Remus says I can ask him questions about anything, and Sirius said I could ask him anything, too."
Harry made a mental note to himself to use his guardians' real names more often. They hadn't said anything, but the young Potter heir was of the opinion that there was something to the nicknames that ordinary people weren't supposed to know. It made him feel rather special to be able to use them, but it meant he had to be careful where he did.
"Nah!" Tonks declared brightly, grinning wide again. It was kind of infectious, and Harry found his lips lifting in return. "Doesn't matter what they say; we'll be cousins from now on, okay?"
The girl held out her hand, sunny grin unfaltering. She seemed genuinely nice and even though Harry's experience with cousins left much to be desired (given that the only one he'd ever known was Dudley) the 6 year old really wanted to know what it was like to have a proper cousin.
Besides, being cousins didn't mean he had to trust her.
Ever so cautiously, he took her hand. "Okay," he agreed softly. "I think that'll be nice."
He had to let out a giggle as she pumped his hand enthusiastically, looking excited.
"It's gonna be wicked, Harry!"
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A/N: Weeellll! This was an excuse for some bonding fluff, because we're going to be entering rocky terrains soon. Now, a shout out to those of you who wanted to see the Tonks family, and I'm still sorting through everyone's votes in trying to figure out who Harry should befriend… until I make that decision concretely, another question for you guys!
Would y'all like to see our most bright and cheery Potions Master in this fic? I've been really contemplating Severus Snape as a character, and wanted the input of all you lovely readers before I write him into this story!
Until next time!
Rissa xoxoxo