A/N: First of all, before you read, I'd like you to know that this is a short chapter on purpose. I promised a new chapter out soon and was detained by an unexpected, unwanted houseguest over the hols. Blast it all. BUT! I will be finishing and posting Chapter 12 tomorrow, but I hit a decent stopping point and figured you may enjoy a little Harry/Sirius interaction to kick off the night...not to mention, you probably were wondering what the heck happened to Harry. So, here you go! Enjoy!

Everything was hazy.

It only took Harry a minute or two to realize where he was; the feathery softness that cradled the back of his head and the clammy heat that rolled in waves up to his chest told the boy that he was tucked securely underneath the heavy quilt on his bed.

But Harry could hardly remember climbing under his covers.

Blinking heavily against the blurred white linen of his pillowcase, Harry lay very still as small bits of the morning's events floated around in his brain, slowly connecting like a puzzle—or the memory of a surreal dream.

He faintly remembered being carried up the staircase, and the warmth of Sirius's neck against his cheek. Harry knew he was in his godfather's arms by the few strands of dark, wavy hair that poked through the top of his glasses. The woodsy scent of aftershave was subtle and familiar in Harry's nose.

At the time, Harry could have cared less that at thirteen, he was being held like a toddler. The iron reassurance of Sirius's conjoined arms under his seat and the gentle pressure of his godfather's chin against his left shoulder blade gave Harry the strength to keep his eyes closed as they ascended the stairs. Harry had felt awful; he was shivery and his head felt detached. But he wasn't afraid anymore. Somehow, he knew everything was going to be all right.

Unable to stand the billowing heat beneath the quilt any longer, Harry slowly shifted onto his other hip, attempting to kick the covers toward the foot of the bed as he turned.

Without his glasses, the room was fuzzy. But Harry could make out the tall shape of his godfather moving quickly forward. Sirius grasped a corner of the crumpled quilt and drew it back up over his godson.

"No, I'm hot…" Harry complained, a bit surprised at the whine in his voice. Feeling as if he were going to smother, Harry squirmed underneath the hot blanket.

"Easy, Harry," Sirius murmured as he crouched down, placing one hand on the boy's forehead for a few seconds before smoothing back his damp hair. Harry's fringe stuck up at an odd angle. Sirius frowned with worry and folded down the quilt so that it covered Harry only up to his belly-button, "You were cold and shaking when I tucked you in. Now you're sweaty..." Sirius combed his fingers soothingly through the boy's hair until the uncomfortable grimace relaxed on his flushed face. Standing up, Sirius backed up a few steps to pull Harry's desk chair closer to the bed.

Exhausted even from the brief struggle among his twisted bedclothes, Harry breathed deeply through his nose. He tried to lie still as he watched Sirius, but after a brief pause, Harry lifted his torso off the bed to yank down his t-shirt. Finally, he flopped back down on his deeply indented pillow. He stared up at his godfather with droopy eyes.

"Better?" Sirius questioned, raising a slightly amused eyebrow and taking a seat very close to mattress.

"Sort of."

Sirius leaned his elbows on his knees while he rested his folded hands quietly on the sheet-covered bed. "Do you feel sick?" the man asked gently, hovering nearby but not coddling. He didn't want Harry to get hot and feverish again.

"No….well, not anymore," Harry replied. Blindly, he reached his hand over to feel along the smooth surface of the night table for his glasses.

Seeing that Harry's fingertips were still inches from his goal, Sirius plucked the boy's glasses off the table and placed them against Harry's palm.

"Thanks," Harry said, giving Sirius a weak smile. He opened them in one swift movement and pushed the glasses onto his nose. But as Harry relaxed again, the cloudy memory of falling forward onto the kitchen floor in front of everyone came back to him with a sickening rush. Instantly, his face went hot, and the back of Harry's neck felt sweaty against the pillow.

"I passed out, didn't I…" Harry mumbled, even though, really, the boy didn't need clarification. He'd blacked out several times last year and knew exactly what it felt like. Now that his vision was clear, he was too embarrassed to look at Sirius. His godfather would never do something as pathetic as passing out.

"Yes, you did," Sirius agreed, "It took us quite a while to get you to snap out of it. Poor Ron was white. I thought he'd be next." Harry could sense the smile in Sirius's voice over the last statement. His godfather was only trying to make him feel better. But it wasn't working. Harry felt like a coward. He stared at his stomach, absently rolling up the hem of his t-shirt into a tiny scroll.

Several long seconds of quiet passed.

"Everyone gets frightened, Harry," Sirius said softly, yet determinedly.

Harry stopped rolling his t-shirt. He pressed the side of his forehead into the cool, raised bulge of the pillow.

No, they don't, Harry thought, You don't.

"Hey," Sirius exclaimed lightly, pushing down the feathers, "Listen to me…" He crouched down closer to Harry's eye-level, even though his godson was purposely avoiding contact, "Are you listening?"

Harry nodded.

"Let me see those eyes, Bub."

Harry's eyes felt heavy and reluctant to comply. But he glanced up anyway.

"Ah, there's the godson I know," Sirius said, giving Harry a fond wink. He reached over and smoothed back the boy's fringe again, "…my godson who needs a haircut," he quipped in mock-seriousness as he pulled several strands of Harry's hair between his fingers as if to measure the length.

Harry brought his hand up swiftly to the top of his head to comb down the wayward pieces of hair, "It's not that bad…" Harry argued, his expression frozen somewhere between laughter and annoyance.

Sirius chuckled under his breath as moved his arm back to rest on his knees. Although he could have thrown forth a witty retort to Harry's declaration, Sirius schooled his expression and waited for Harry to realize that a much-needed conversation was going to take place.

Taking the hint almost immediately, Harry pushed himself up on his elbow a bit, resting on his hip. He half-expected Sirius to push him back down against the pillow, but his godfather said nothing. He looked solemnly at Harry.

"You are very brave," Sirius informed his godson.

Harry nearly snorted.

"No," Sirius said firmly, holding up a hand to prevent Harry from speaking, "Hear me out."

Teeth tugging at his bottom lip, Harry lay still upon his elbow as he gazed up at Sirius.

"You saved my life, Harry…"

"I nearly mucked it up. And besides, I was scared then, too," Harry insisted, "Without Hermione—"

"You're thirteen years old," Sirius interrupted, shaking his head, "It's normal to get scared. Adults get scared."

"You don't…"

"I do, Harry," his godfather exclaimed, "I was bloody frightened out of my wits when I saw Snape dragging you through the fireplace…when I saw those bruises on your arm…"

Harry didn't say anything. His tongue suddenly felt thick. He knew Sirius was angry at Snape—maybe even angry enough to hurt him. But he never, ever suspected that his godfather was frightened.

Feeling stiff, Harry pushed himself up further, scooting backwards on his seat until he was leaning against the headboard. He looked soberly at Sirius.

"I thought you were going to kill him," Harry nearly whispered. His throat suddenly felt dry and scratchy.

His godfather sighed deeply, "Oh, Harry, I wasn't going to kill Snape." His voice was mild, but his knotted eyebrows were full of concern. And then it was clear that Sirius understood. "So that's what all the Azkaban business was about, was it?"

Slightly embarrassed, Harry nodded.

Twisting his mouth in thought, Sirius appeared as if he were trying to decide what to say next. However, the man simply reached over and tightened the blanket around Harry's legs before gaining his resolve. Inclining his head, he locked eyes with his godson.

"I'm sorry I frightened you," Sirius said genuinely, "The way he handled you just really bothered me."

"What are you gonna do about it?" Harry wondered.

Sirius paused, gazing at Harry and tapping his fingers together the way he did when he was trying to decide how to best explain a difficult situation to his adolescent godson.

"Nothing, right now," Sirius answered glumly, "Dumbledore will take care of it."

Another pause.

"He said if I were his kid he'd blister me."

Sirius snorted in contempt. "That was decent of him," he replied sarcastically. "He's got issues…that's for certain." Harry pulled a knowing face and nodded in agreement. "Although…" Sirius continued, raising an eyebrow, "I wouldn't advise listening in on anymore conversations—and not just onesinvolving Snape. Got it?"

Harry cringed. He should have known Sirius wouldn't forget about that.

"All right, I won't."

Nodding, he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and applied pressure, "Lie back down now."

Harry ignored the order for a moment. "But why is Snape like that, Sirius? Why is he so nasty? I mean, even if he hated my dad, he doesn't have to act like a git to me…"

With a brief roll of his eyes, Sirius grasped Harry around the legs with both hands and pulled him forward until his head slid down into the pillow. "I don't know, Bub," the man finalized as he shook out the covers at the end of the bed and tucked them around Harry's bare feet. There was no need to delve into the past. Not now.

"I'm not tired anymore…" Harry exclaimed, beginning to elevate himself on his elbows.

"Down." Sirius emphasized his command by pointing a finger towards his godson.

Harry's dark head immediately hit the pillow.

"You just passed out, you nutter," Sirius cried, shaking his head as he finished tucking the blankets around Harry.

Harry smiled. Leave it to his godfather to follow up a stern order with his usual air of humor.

"But what about Ron? He'll be bored. Where is he anyway?"

"It's barely noon," Sirius assured him, "You haven't been out that long. You can rest until two, and then we'll have some lunch. Ron's with Remus."

"He is?" Harry asked, pulling off his glasses and handing them to Sirius.

"Mmmhmm. Remus went ahead and showed him the library."

Bloody hell, Harry thought, eyes expanding. He'd nearly forgotten why he and Ron had made the visit over to Remus's in the first place. Way to go, Ron! I don't give him enough credit. Investigating on his own…

"I'm really not tired, Sirius….really…" Harry pleaded.

"Really?"

"Er…" Harry stammered, almost certain Sirius was poking fun at him. The boy grinned. "Yeah…really."

"Then just relax on your bed. Here, turn over," Sirius said, nudging Harry on the shoulder, "I'll do your neck."

Harry shrugged. He vaguely remembered Sirius rubbing his neck and shoulders several weeks ago when he'd woken up from a nightmare. Harry couldn't recall what the dream was about, but he figured he must have cried out during it. He'd heard the door open only seconds after he opened his eyes, and Sirius was beside him. To think about it now was a bit embarrassing. But at least Harry hadn't had a nightmare for a while. He didn't think he had, anyway…

Harry flipped over on his stomach and settled into his pillow.

Leaning over, Sirius tugged down Harry's t-shirt a bit where it had bunched up at his shoulder blades, and very lightly, he began massaging Harry's neck with just the tips of his fingers. Almost immediately, Harry sagged against the mattress.

"Your mum used to do this when you were a baby," Sirius informed Harry, "It conked you right out."

Harry didn't respond.

"Still does, I see…"

Several minutes later, Harry was breathing deeply and evenly. Sirius had known he would be. Pulling the blankets up around the boy's middle, Sirius pulled back his chair gently, moving quietly, and closed the bedroom door with a soft click.

Ron would be back soon. Sirius just hoped that this time no other snarky bastards would be coming along with him.

TBC... (Tomorrow)

So whadja think? By the way, your reviews were so encouraging from the last chapter! I think I replied to all of them. I tried. If not, I'm sorry! If you would, could you take a minute to review and give me some feedback on this chapter? I appreciate it all!

I hereby swear on my laptop and morning Starbucks that I will have the next chapter out by tomorrow. Swear it.