Disclaimer: You want to know what I OWN?! I'll tell you what I OWN…nothing, nada, not a friggin' thing! How unfair is that to my wallet?!
Chapter Summary: Ever wonder what an average day at Marauders Abode is like?
A/N: And here comes our first chapter of a somewhat older Harry. –Grins.- And prompt, too, no? I'm really proud of my consecutive 'on time' posting skills as of late. :-) This whole 'type at least a page a day on word, and many pages on a random day' has really been working for me! I believe I have found my niche! –Does a jig.- If any of you guys are having trouble updating your own stories promptly, you should try out my method, it's quite effective, IMHO. Anywho, enough of this…I ramble far too much in these things… Onto Chapter 36! W00t!
Chapter 36: A Usual Day at Marauders Abode
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Remus' mouth dropped slightly in shock before shouting, affronted, "That's no reason at all, you prick!"
"It is sooooo a reason, you big baby! I mean, really, if it was either of us, it'd be you, no contest!" Sirius retorted from where he sat on the couch in their sitting room, as if it were completely obvious.
"No! No, no, and no. Who's the one who is always on the verge of a meltdown anytime they have to go to see a friggin' healer?" Remus replied knowingly from his recliner, sitting up and leaning forward some.
"Now that has absolutely nothing to do with it, and you know it!" It was Sirius' turn to be indignant, leaning forward as well, the tea table between them.
"Yeah? Well, neither does going into the basement once a month!"
"Going into the basement is the biggest of factors! You have a time-of-the-month, Moony! Wolf-PMS! Mood-Swings!"
"I don't have any control over that!"
"Neither do any of the others out there!"
"NO! It's completely different, for Merlin's sake! And I can't believe we're even having this conversation, Sirius!"
"We're having it because you dared to insinuate that I of all people in this house—"
"Because you do!"
"I do not, damn it!" Sirius whined.
"Yes, you do! You spend more time in the bathroom than anyone on the face of the planet!"
"You hurt me, Remus. Really, you do. Siriusly! That doesn't even remotely come into play in pin-pointing which of us—"
"It does so!"
"Oh, yeah? Well! Which one of us does the cooking?" Sirius inquired with an easily evident satisfaction, as if having won this debate with that alone.
"Bloody hell! You are not bringing that into the equation!"
"I am so!"
"I only do the cooking because we would all starve if you did it!"
"Exactly, which automatically places me in my preferred role, and you in the role of m—"
"Bullocks! That's a load of bullocks!" Remus retorted petulantly, jumping to his feet, intending to leave the sitting room.
"Why don't we just ask Prongslet? Eh? He'll be the tie breaker," Sirius smirked smugly, pushing himself to his feet, as well, far too pleased with himself.
Remus glared daggers at his friend before both men shouted in unison,
"Harry!"
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-Five Minutes Before.-
On this particular lovely Saturday in August, eight year old Harry James Potter sat at the desk in his room, leaning over a piece of parchment, left hand holding the parchment in place, and the right hand dipping his Sugar Quill into some black ink. Bright, expressive emerald green eyes scanned the unmarked parchment before him, pondering over what to write first.
His mop of messy raven black hair stood up at all odd angles, even in the back, and if it were not for those who knew him knowing that this appearance was completely natural, they might have thought he styled it that way every day. Bringing the end of the Sugar Quill to his mouth, he sucked experimentally – He was right, these are great! -while bringing his free hand up to ruffle his soft hair absentmindedly before returning it to hold the parchment in place.
What to write…what to write…?
"That's no reason at all, you prick!" came Remus' shouting voice from downstairs.
Green eyes trailed to the open door on his left, removing the end of the Sugar Quill from his mouth, an amused smile twitching at the corners of his lips. They were at it again. It happened every now and then, and he had come to find each occasion quite humorous over the years. Mostly because the two men insulted each other and called each other names without really feeling any true sense of dislike for the other. How did Harry know their insults were all fake, and not heart-felt? Because he could sense it in their emotions. The two were the best of friends; of course there was never true enmity between them!
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-Flashback.-
"This isn't Harry's stuff, its mine!" Sirius said indignantly, holding the pile of clothes tightly against his chest.
"Then why in Merlin's name where they thrown all over Harry's room 'and' the friggin' hall? Will you ever stop tossing your clothes everywhere?" Remus asked, then he scowled, "And don't think I'm doing your laundry as well!"
"But Moooonnnyyy!"
A seven year old Harry, standing a few feet from the two men in his room, giggled as Sirius continued to whine.
Finally Remus said, "That's enough, Sirius. Say goodnight to Harry, then kindly sod off…you're doing 'all' your laundry tonight!"
Sirius sighed dramatically, before shrugged and promptly dropped the armful of clothes onto the floor in favor of sweeping Harry up in his arms and swinging him around the room once. Remus rolled his eyes, smiling, and moved to pull down the covers of the young Potter's bed, where Harry landed a few seconds later giggling madly.
"G'night, kiddo" Sirius whispered fondly, kissing Harry on the forehead, before huffily scooping up his clothes and walking out of the room portentously.
"See you in the morning, cub," Remus chuckled softly, before planting a kiss on top of the boy's head and walking out of the room leaving the door open just enough so some light could stream in.
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Harry supposed every two people who lived together had to find something to argue about from time to time, lest they explode.
When Remus and Sirius were getting along, which was ninety-five percent of the time, they truly got along and were very much in sync about things…but when they had their off moments that other five percent of the time, they really had them. Harry always believed this to be because they had to make up for all their good days some way or another. No one got along twenty-four seven over everything, after all. But Sirius and Remus always made up and were as good as new the next day.
"Now that has absolutely nothing to do with it, and you know it!" floated up Sirius' indignant voice.
The Potter heir snickered softly to himself before turning his gaze back to the parchment before him, bringing the Sugar Quill back to his lips to suck on once more as he pondered what to write. He had to hop to it in writing so as send this off before Draco came over for the afternoon, because then Harry would not get it done until tomorrow.
And besides that, he was very eager to put the owl Remus had personally taken him to get for his birthday to the test. At this thought his eyes shifted to the right, where on that side of his desk, situated in a lovely cage, was a small and clearly young, female snow-white owl. Harry's eyes shinned with cheerfulness every time he looked at her.
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-Flashback.-
Harry stared incredulously from the Eeylops Owl Emporium, itself, to Remus. Out of all the things he might have thought he might get for his birthday…a pet had not been one of them, let alone a 'letter delivering' pet.
"Come on, cub, you deserve it," the lycanthrope smiled, and the boy's face could not help but brighten as the two entered the shop. There were animals of all kinds inside, but by far owls were the most that inhabited the shop. Remus told Harry to take as much time as he needed, and to get a good look at all of them before picking.
The young Potter spent the next fifteen minutes traversing the emporium, looking at all the various breeds of owls and colors and appearances. In the end he lingered longest in front of the cage of snoozing snow-white owl that looked much smaller than the rest, though Harry figured it was probably because it was baby.
"Like that one?" inquired Remus from behind him, also inspecting the creature. "It's a girl, if I'm not mistaken… A snowy owl, too, they grow to a very decent size."
Harry glanced up at his Guardian who had laid a hand on his shoulder before looking back at the owl, who had apparently decided to wake up and look at the two males staring at her.
"She has your eyes!" Harry commented with a bright grin.
"Ha, she does, doesn't she?" the Lupin chuckled upon noticing the amber eyes.
"Yeah…she's the one I want."
And she was the one that was bought. It took Harry a good few days to come up with a name, however. He had searched through many various books of his own to come up with one, and came up empty handed, eventually resorting to asking to borrow some of Remus', who had gladly supplied.
Harry lay on his stomach a few evenings later in front of the fireplace in the sitting room, flipping through one of the Lupin's old books with his new owl in her cage next to him. It was getting late and he was starting to feel sleepy, but he wanted to pick out a magical name for his new pet 'tonight'. He had called her 'girl' far too many times already, and did not want her to think that was her name. Uncle Moony had said there were lots of wizard names in this book, 'A History of Magic', and that he was sure Harry would be able to pick out a brilliant name from there.
The Potter heir propped himself up on his elbows, resting his chin in one hand, and turning the page with the other before reading allowed, finger trailing under the word, "Hed-wig… Hedwig. Hmm…Hedwig," he repeated pensively, testing it. "What do you think of Hedwig, girl?"
His new owl hooted softly, and Harry smiled.
"Any luck finding a name, Harry?" Remus asked as he exited the kitchen, flopping exhaustedly into the seat nearest the boy.
"Yep!" Harry announced cheerfully, "Her name is Hedwig!"
"That's a great name, Harry," Remus nodded his approval. "Now why don't you put Hedwig in your room and get ready for bed?"
Harry yawned sleepily and nodded, picking up Hedwig and heading towards his room.
"So what'd he finally decide on?" Sirius asked after a few minutes, descending the stairs and walking over to Remus, gathering the abandoned books with a flick of his wand.
"Hedwig," Remus said as he pushed himself to his feet, stretching.
"And here I was betting it would be Quidditch or Snitch," Sirius grinned.
Remus rolled his eyes, "Only 'you' would name your owl something like that, Padfoot." He moved passed his friend towards the stairs, "I'm going go say goodnight to him."
Sirius nodded and called to the werewolf's back, "Quidditch or Snitch are great names, I'll have you know!"
-A week later.-
Harry had never let Hedwig out of her cage before, a good deal too worried to do so. Not because he was scared of her being out, but because he was scared 'for' her. Merlin only knew all the different animals that were outside that could hurt her! Or worse…what if he let her go and she never came back? These were his trains of thought when it came to letting the young puffy white owl go.
However, after much coaxing from Sirius and Remus – who insisted that owls needed to hunt for more to eat than just 'owl treats' from their owners – Harry succumbed and let Hedwig out to stretch her wings. After nipping the Potter affectionately on the ear she had, of course, flown straight out the window…and at first the eight year old had been fine with this. But then nights went by…and more nights, and the snowy owl had yet to return.
The night that this truly hit home for the concerned Potter was on one that was particularly rainy…storming, in fact. Harry found himself standing in the middle of their large yard, emerald green eyes searching the skies for some indication that his owl was nearby, repeatedly brushing water off his glasses every few seconds. Thunder filled the night air as a particularly large bolt of lightening shot across the sky, illuminating the area eerily.
Harry gave a start, yelping slightly as he slipped on the wet grass, falling onto his bum. He moved to stand, but only to slip once more, and fall back. It was here, bringing his knees up some, that a sort of hopelessness filled the young boy. He had lost Hedwig, he was a terrible owner, and now he would never get her back. His body was trembling from both the cold of the water that had thoroughly soaked through his clothes and had plastered his hair down to his head, as well as the tears that began to fall in time with soft sobs, blending in amazingly well with the rain.
"Prongslet?!" called Sirius' desperate, concerned voice as he yanked the front door open, running into the night. It did not, however, take him long to find his Godson. "Prongslet! Harry, what are you—?" The bewildered Black, who was quickly becoming soaked himself, scooped the trembling child up, one arm under the boy's knees and the other behind his back, starting back towards their home where Remus stood worriedly in the doorway.
"Harry…pup, what made you come outside in the pouring rain? You're bound to get sick! And without even saying anything…" Another bout of thunder sounded, and the Potter jumped slightly, soon turning and gripping his Godfather's shirt tightly, burying his face in the man's chest. The child certainly weighed more than he had when he was three, but he was still not as tall as the other kids his age, and was still light enough to carry without much of any difficulty.
Shortly enough the pair stepped through the threshold, Remus shutting the door behind them. Sirius gently set the eight year old down as the Lupin went for some towels. Water dripped off the Potter's hair and slid down his face as he continued to shiver, nibbling on his trembling lower lip.
"M'sorry…" he murmured, voice shaky, sensing the thick worry in the air.
"Prongslet…Harry…are you crying?" the dog Animagus inquired gently as his friend re-entered the sitting room, wondering if his intuition was right or if it was just the rain water. Remus tossed a towel to Sirius, who had hunkered down to his Godson's level, and then proceeded to wrap the other towel around the Potter.
"H-H-Hedwig ran away!" Harry burst, throwing his arms around Sirius' neck as new sobs came. "She ran away…s-she doesn't like me…she won't e-ever come back!"
"Oh, kiddo…" Sirius wrapped his arms comfortingly around him, kissing the side of his head. "She hasn't run away! And of course she likes you! She's just getting to know the area, I promise. All owls have to do it, she'll be back soon…"
It took a good while for the two men to calm their charge once more, but eventually they did – and even got to dry him properly – before they both took him upstairs to change into some dry clothes.
The next morning found the snowy white bird snoozing on the child's stomach…and Harry had been ecstatic. …Though he had a cold for the next few days in retribution for his rainy night.
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Harry smiled to himself, shaking his head a bit, before looking back at the parchment before him. Removing the end of the quill from his mouth, he set the tip to the parchment, and began in his childish scrawl,
Dear Reggie,
Thank you for the box of Sugar Quills, they're really yummy! I wish you could have been here for my birthday, it was great! I got this pretty owl from Uncle Moony, and her name is Hedwig. When we come over for Christmas, I'll have to bring these awesome 'Quidditch Marbles' that Padfoot got me, I know you'll like them! Ron and his family came over to my house to throw me a surprise party, and even my friend Hermione got to come! I don't think she likes Ron, though, because he kept pulling her hair when she wasn't looking. She's a muggle, so Mr. Weasley was asking her tons of questions about batteries and stuff, but I don't think she figured out we were all wizards and witches…I think she just thought he was a weird man.
Draco didn't come because Mr. Snape never lets him come to my birthday parties, even when they're in the summer…not that Draco would have wanted to come anyway, because we're not outside friends…
I finally learned how to Flame the right way the other day! It used to make me super tired, but Padfoot has been helping me practice, and I can finally do it without getting tired…well, at least a few times without getting tired… Moony says I'll be able to do it however many times I want when I'm an adult and not get tired ever, so that's cool. I practice every day. Draco can do it, too, but with water…which 'really isn't as wicked', Padfoot told me. And Draco doesn't have a fun name for it, either, just…apparating. Isn't that boring? It's totally different from apparating… Flame-ing sounds a whole lot nicer. Maybe it's because Water-ing sounds like something you'd do to flowers…
Oh, I saw Miss Al—
"Harry!" shouted both Sirius and Remus at the same time. The young Potter blinked a few times down at his letter before sighing.
"Coming!" he called, setting the quill down next to the parchment and pushing himself away from the desk some before standing.
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The two men were not surprised when a burst of flame appeared at the foot of the stairs, soon to reveal their young charge and disappear – quite seemingly – into him. He had taken to doing it at least once a day ever since the week before.
"Nice one, Prongslet," Sirius grinned, causing the Potter to grin in turn.
"Did you need something?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah, we wanted to know—"
"And remember," Remus interrupted, "we don't mean this as any kind of 'replacing your parents' kind of way, because you know we'd never want to do that, but—"
"Of course he knows that, Remus, we only tell him that every Father's Day he insists on celebrating, why are you stating the obvious?" Sirius cut in, and the Lupin looked as though he was trying to control an outburst, clearly not wanting to fall down to his friend's level.
Harry glanced between the two childishly acting men with a bemused smile. Merlin, sometimes he even loved them more than usual…which was a lot. He could only imagine how boring other kids had it…like Draco, spending the summer with Mr. Snape.
"What we want to know is—"
"What Sirius is trying to ask is—"
Harry raised an amused eyebrow at the two, which in turn got them to close their mouths briefly.
Bluish-grey met amber for a moment before the two released a breath and said,
"Which one of us acts like the mother to the family?"
Harry could not help it, even if he had tried to prevent it…he burst into peals of laughter.
Sirius and Remus blinked a few times at this…unsure of how to label their Charge's reaction, but apparently finding nothing too humorous in their question...
The Potter heir caught onto this after a few beats, and was finally able to control himself long enough to say – the laughter lying just beneath his voice, ready to pounce, and it could be heard in his youthful voice – "You're being serious?"
"…Technically can't be anyone else," his Godfather replied with a faint smirk, and that pushed the Potter over into giggles once more.
The men let the laughter run it's course, until Harry finally had himself under control once more, continuing to look at him expectantly.
"Well…" the green eyed boy took in a deep breath and released it slowly, glancing between the two men pensively. "…both of you do…"
Bluish-grey and amber eyes widened to an almost comical size, both of his Guardian's jaws dropping in indignance and shock.
"I mean-!" Harry quickly amended, spotting this straight away, waving his hands in front of himself in a 'don't get the wrong idea' kind of way. "You're both like my…dads, and you're both like my…moms," he paused for a moment, somewhat confusing even himself in the process of trying to place words to his thoughts and feelings on the subject.
"See, here, sometimes Uncle Moony does mom stuff, like cooking and reminding me to brush my teeth, and other times he does dad stuff like play games with me and read books with me. And Padfoot, you can whine a lot to Moony and me sometimes…"
Remus, of course, decided he could live with this conclusion from his wise young cub, and allowed himself to sit back down in the recliner. He was a mixture. …And he was satisfied with that considering he had never had kids of his own. Just as long as he had not been labeled solely 'the mother', he was good. Sirius, however, spluttered, "B-But—"
"It's funny, though, your whining makes me smile Padfoot. And then, you can take forever in the bathroom, and Ron says his mum does the same, so…that's what makes you kinda like a mum. But then, you're like a dad, too, because you play Quidditch with me, and—"
"So we're both…" Sirius sighed, a little on the resigned side, realizing there was no way to change a view Harry already had in his mind.
"Mmhmm!" Harry nodded brightly walking over towards his Godfather, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his head sheepishly…before stopping and looking uncertainly up at him. "…is that okay?"
Sirius chuckled, shaking his head slightly before ruffling the eight year old's mess of hair affectionately, making it look all the more windswept.
"It's fine, kiddo…that's settles that, eh, dad/mum Moony?" Bluish-grey eyes trailed to the werewolf who smile amusedly and nodded, before plopping back down on his seat on the couch.
"That it does, dad/mum Padfoot."
Harry beamed.
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The eight year old boy returned to his room soon enough, Hedwig's amber eyes following him as he moved to sit back down at his desk.
"Their usual," the Potter supplied for the owl, as if the creature had actually been curious, before picking up his Sugar Quill, dipping it once more in ink, and returning to his letter.
—exis a few weeks before my birthday! Padfoot still doesn't like talking about her, but Uncle Moony told me it was okay to visit Hogwarts if I wanted, because there aren't any classes in the summer time. We talked lots about Mr. Snape this time, and you know what I think? …I don't think he's such a bad man. But don't tell Padfoot that, though…I don't think he could ever like Mr. Snape. Miss Alexis told me all about how she and my mom had been friends with him when they were little and in school, so…I think he's just a grumpy man who forgot how to have fun.
Padfoot and Uncle Moony are having one of their days today…what did you call them? 'Old Married Couple Days'? I can't remember… But whatever it was, that's today. They'll be fine again here in a bit, I bet. They always are.
I wish you didn't have to live so far away, Reggie…it'd be really wicked if you lived closer to us, so we could see each other more, but…I know you can't. So it's okay. Maybe one day.
Anyway, I better finish this now, my friend's coming over here in a little while. Promise to write back, okay?
Love, your God-Nephew,
Harry James Potter
The eight year old read over this for a few moments, checking to make sure it looked alright, before nodding and setting his quill down. This was the first time he ever wrote a letter to Regulus, and he really wanted to make sure it was good.
"Perfect," he smiled brightly, rolling the parchment up like Remus had shown him before placing it into the envelope, licking it closed on the designated spot, and writing Regulus' name on the envelope.
"Do you think you could take this to Reggie, Hedwig?" he asked once he finished, turning his gaze to the young owl. Hedwig gave a soft hoot, and Harry grinned, opening the cage door. "If you can't or anything, because it's too far and it's hard, just come back. I won't be mad," he informed her as he handed her the letter which she proudly took into her beak. Pushing himself to stand, he allowed the owl to hop into his hand, walking her over to the open window.
"Be careful, 'kay?"
She ruffled her feathers before taking flight out the window. Emerald green eyes watched her go for as long as he could see her, before sighing and turning around to find an amused blonde leaning in his doorway.
"Malfoy!" he said, briefly surprised. "When did you get here?"
"A minute ago. Black and Lupin just told me to come on up," the silver-grey eyed male provided with a casual shrug, moving into the room, turning the Potter's chair and dropping into it as easily as if it were his own. Harry rolled his eyes before going to his desk and pulling out a bag out of one of the drawers.
"Wanna play with my Quidditch Marbles?" he asked, pulling out another seat and sitting next to the boy. Draco nodded, and the Potter opened the bag and gently dumped them all out onto the desk. "Team?"
"Puddlemere United."
"Chudley Cannons," Harry said after.
The Potter's marbles were charmed so all you would have to do is say the names of two Quidditch teams and the marbles would morph into those teams and play a game on whatever surface they were situated on. Harry had played with them once at the dinner table, and food had ended up flying everywhere when players crashed into things, so he had hence forth refrained from doing that anymore…especially after the 'I cannot believe you brought those to dinner' look in Moony's eyes.
The two boys spent the next while enjoying a game that could have very well been a live one with how great it was played. In the end, however, it was the Chudley Cannons that won out by catching the Golden Snitch.
"You've got these things rigged…" Draco pouted, glaring at the players as they all morphed back into marbles, landing on the table once more.
"Do not!"
"Hmph…"
Harry sighed before rolling all the marbles back into his bag and placing them into his desk drawer. It was here that he seemed to remember something, looking back at the blonde.
"Did you do it?" the Potter asked eagerly, earning himself a faint grimace from his clandestine friend.
"…Sadly," Draco replied after a beat. "And he wasn't happy. He wasn't happy at all. Sev hates pranks… I can't believe I let you talk me into it…"
Harry could not help but snigger, and even Draco had to smirk a bit.
"You should've seen the look on his face, though…"
It had been Harry's suggestion. Fill all Snape's cauldrons with water every time the Potions Master was turned around, replace his ladles with either stones or flowers just as often, as well as his quills whenever he was going to write something down, and then whenever inquired about it – act completely innocent, if not a little offended.
Sirius had definitely been taking to teaching the young Potter in his father's footsteps…
"How about you? Did you do it?" the Malfoy asked, curious.
"Yep…we should hear them crash here any minute," the Potter replied with a grin.
"They would have noticed…you use your hands more than I do for it," Draco sneered lightly.
"I actually had the perfect moment earlier where they didn't notice my hands at all, or the wind moving their laces…"
And sure enough, from downstairs came two resounding crashes, the unmistakable sound of men tripping over their own feet and heading straight for the floor.
"Bloody hell, Prongslet!" shouted Sirius in an 'I'm not sure whether to be affronted or proud' tone.
Childlike laughter filled Harry's bedroom.
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A/N: Chapter 36 over and done with! We have our eight year old Harry Potter. –Grins.- I'm roughly estimating for this story to have around fifty chapters or so, ending when Harry gets his Hogwarts letter. After which I shall start the sequel of Harry's Hogwarts years. So, how'd you like this chapter? Good, okay, somewhere in the middle, or abysmal? I'd love to know what you think; you guys are what keep me going. :-)
I have officially decided that a chapter posted for this story, automatically must mean a chapter posted for its prequel 'The Beginnings. So…double-whammy posting shall be going on from now on. I shall inform you if this needs to change for some reason. …Doubt it, though.
Anywho, onto this chapter's 'Curiosity Filler'!
"How many times have you read through the Harry Potter series? And how many times per-book, individually?"
As per-usual, I shall give you my answer when you give me yours. –Smiles.-
Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, dear Readers! You guys are the best.
-Chloe
-Japanime1