"Close your eyes," Sirius instructed at the front door, grinning.
"Sirius," Harry whined. "You've been talking about it all day, can't I just go see it?"
"Not unless you cooperate," Sirius mock-scolded, putting his back against the door and crossing his arms. "We can always go back to decorating the library.
Harry rolled his eyes, grinning, and closed his eyes. "Fine, let's go then."
Sirius grabbed Harry by the elbow and led him outside. Harry followed along blindly, bumping into his godfather at the man's abrupt stop. He felt Sirius let go of his elbow, then put a wooden stick in his hand. "Your firebolt," Sirius said, before going to search for a second broom.
"Can I open my eyes, then?" Harry asked, grinning.
"Ready… now," Sirius said in his ear, returning from his own broom retrieval. Harry opened his eyes and looked around in awe. It was half the size of the Hogwarts quidditch pitch, with tall wooden rings standing at either side.
"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, smiling at Sirius. "It's incredible, Sirius. How did you do it?"
"Lots of magic, but I won't bore you with the details. Up for a game of one-on-one?" Sirius asked, tossing Harry the quaffle. "First one to 200 wins."
"You're on," Harry said, kicking off the ground with his Firebolt. There was a chilly breeze in the summer air that felt crisp and whipped Harry's face. Up he flew, doing a few loops in the process before diving back down towards the pitch.
In Harry's moment of jubilation, Sirius had taken off toward the goal post to score. Harry laughed as he shot towards his godfather, then quickly pulled out of the dive as Sirius swerved to the right. Sirius barked laughter of his own, performing a hard break and throwing the quaffle through the backside of the goal hoop. "Nice try, Harry!" He yelled down to him, dropping the quaffle to give Harry a chance to score.
Harry leaned forward on his Firebolt in an attempt to reach the falling quaffle as Sirius sped towards him. Harry scooped up the ball, then feinted to the left before making a sharp turn to the right and speeding off toward his goal hoops.
Harry was astounded at Sirius's flying abilities. They easily kept up with each other, and the game approached an end with both having 190 points. However, what stood out to Harry more than Sirius's quidditch abilities was that his godfather hadn't stopped smiling and laughing since they started. Harry could only imagine how freeing flying must feel after spending twelve years in a dark prison cell.
Harry had been flying towards his goal post, anticipating victory, when he felt Sirius collide into him, causing him to drop the quaffle and spin off course. Harry righted himself and saw Sirius streaking away toward the other end. He grinned and shot after him. "Faster, come on," he urged his Firebolt. He dipped under Sirius and shot upwards in an attempt to knock him off course - however, Sirius rolled over, narrowly missing his godson, and shot the quaffle through the right goal hoop. He whooped cheerfully and took a victory lap while Harry chuckled appreciatively at his godfather's joy.
Sirius flew back over to him, his dark hair looking windswept and a rosy color rising in his cheeks. He looked youthful - Harry was reminded again that the man was only 34, which was hardly old compared to Hagrid, Dumbledore, and McGonagall. He grinned at Harry and slapped him genially on the shoulder. "Not too rusty, eh?"
"You were brilliant," Harry said sincerely as they lowered back to the ground. "If I keep flying with you this summer, I'll be well-prepared to win the quidditch cup again next year."
Sirius grinned at him and threw an arm over his shoulder as they walked back toward the house. "Want a snack? I'm starved. I'll make us some sandwiches before we get back to decorating."
Harry nodded hungrily, depositing his broom at the shed and following Sirius to the back door.
The rest of their evening was spent quietly decorating the living room. Remus returned before dinner and helped cook while Harry went for a quick shower. Dinner was spent by the fire in the living room. Sirius and Remus used this time to reminisce over stories from their Hogwarts days, and Harry shared some of his own.
"I can't believe McGonagall didn't even give you a detention for flying without a teacher there. You do seem to worm your way out of trouble," Sirius said, looking at Harry with pride.
"I thought I was getting chucked out to be honest," Harry said with a grin. "I didn't even know how to play quidditch - barely knew what it was, in fact."
"Well, you clearly have the raw talent. We'll keep playing this summer and Slytherin's team won't know what hit them next year." Sirius said, yawning as he spoke. "Man, it's been a long day. I might head up to bed pretty soon. You want to stay tonight, Moony?"
Remus smiled. "I suppose I could stay tonight. I'll make breakfast in the morning, Harry can decide who makes better pancakes."
"I'm in," Harry said, grinning. He would not deny the opportunity for good food and was thrilled to discover that both Remus and Sirius were pretty good cooks.
"Alright, alright, I'll take an excuse not to cook," Sirius said, standing up and stretching. His shirt rode up his midriff as he stretched, and Harry noticed a deep, angry scar on his side. For a moment he considered asking, but he met Remus's eyes. Remus looked at him sadly, then stood up too, reaching an arm out to help Harry up. Harry took this as a sign to ignore the injury, and followed the two men up the stairs.
Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulder gently as he passed. "Goodnight mate," he said gruffly, then let go of Harry's shoulder and moved to the room next door, which Harry assumed to be his. Harry walked happily into his room, feeling very content with the events of his first day at the house.
Harry pulled on his pajamas and settled down into his comfortable four poster, feeling very optimistic about the upcoming summer. He couldn't wait for the Weasley's to come over and see Sirius fly - they could even try a full-on quidditch practice.
Dreaming of quidditch and pancakes, Harry found himself dozing off shortly after climbing into bed. Soon, his warm, happy feelings were replaced with a dream. Harry had never seen the cold, decrepit house before, and had no idea who the old man hobbling up the stairs was. However, Harry found himself shooting out of bed when the man was murdered, his scar throbbing. He breathed heavily and looked around his room. The watch on his nightstand read two in the morning. He rubbed his forehead gingerly. His scar hurting him was abnormal - it seemed like something Sirius would want to know about, especially since the only time it had happened in the past was his first year, when Voldemort had possessed his defense against the dark arts professor.
Harry made to get out of bed, then stopped himself. Sirius would not want to be woken up in the middle of the night - Harry would just need to wait to ask the question in the morning.
He knew, however, that it would be difficult to fall back asleep when his heart was beating so quickly in his chest. Remus had always given him chocolate in times like this - perhaps Sirius had hot chocolate stocked in the kitchen? He could make himself a cup before trying to sleep again.
Deciding this was a suitable plan, Harry gently stood up and padded out of the dark room, carefully closing his door to ensure it wouldn't squeak. He reached the ajar kitchen door, but noticed something strange - a few candles were lit, and there was the unmistakable sound of someone placing a glass on their kitchen table. He pushed the door a little more and peered inside. There at the table, sat his godfather, his head in his hands and a small glass of brandy to his right.
Seeing his godfather in such a state felt like an invasion of privacy - Harry turned to tiptoe away, but he heard a gentle voice calling him back. "I know you're there, Harry."
Harry swallowed thickly. Would Sirius be angry that he was out of bed? That he had found him in this state? There was only one way to know. He pushed the door open and walked in, a guilty expression playing on his features. "Sorry, Sirius. I was coming to grab some hot chocolate, I didn't expect you to be down here."
Sirius had sat up again and was smiling tiredly. "Don't apologize, you're welcome to whatever you need."
Harry nodded and awkwardly made his way to the pantry. He didn't know what to say. Should he tell Sirius about his scar right now? Did he dare ask why Sirius was in the kitchen drinking at this hour?
Sirius cleared his throat and Harry was startled to find that his godfather had come to stand behind him. "I'll make it for you," he murmured, squeezing Harry's shoulder and tilting his head in the direction of their kitchen table. "Is everything alright?"
Harry swallowed again and walked over to the table. "I… had a funny dream. I don't really remember what happened in it now, but I woke up with my scar hurting. That hasn't happened since my first year when Voldemort was near Hogwarts. He couldn't be near here, could he?"
Sirius had flicked his wand so the hot chocolate began to make itself, then leaned against the counter and faced Harry. He had a thoughtful expression on his face. "I don't think so, but that is concerning. I don't know much about curse scars, and yours does seem to be unique - I'll mention it to Dumbledore in the morning and see if he can make sense of it."
Harry nodded, satisfied with Sirius's answer. Sirius gently charmed the cup of hot chocolate to sit in front of Harry, warmth radiating from it. Harry sipped it gratefully, feeling peace wash over him. Sirius walked behind his chair and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Good?"
Harry nodded, tilting his head to look up at Sirius. "Very."
Sirius smiled and moved back to his chair to take another sip of brandy. The two sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, while Harry worked up the bravery to ask his question. "What about you? Is everything, er-okay?"
Sirius looked up at Harry, his grey eyes piercing him. They were devoid of the warmth that had filled them the day before while playing quidditch. Harry felt his heart clench - Sirius had never scrutinized him so severely. Just as Harry was beginning to think he should have minded his business, Sirius spoke. "Since I've been out of Azkaban, sleeping has been difficult for me. While I was on the run, I mostly slept as Padfoot. It's different, being a dog. They don't feel emotions the way we do. But since my freedom was declared, I decided I should start trying to sleep as myself again. I normally wake up from some nightmare or another - that's why I've been putting my memories in the pensieve, though I suppose that may not be the best way to cope. Neither, I admit, is drinking brandy at 2 am." He laughed sourly and took another sip of his drink.
Harry wasn't sure what to say, so he nodded and took a sip of his own drink. They fell back into comfortable silence. Sirius stood up about five minutes later, took his empty glass to the sink, then turned to face Harry. "Are you feeling better?" Sirius asked gently, the haunted look remaining in his eyes.
Harry nodded and stood up to return his cup to the sink too. While he was putting it down, Sirius stretched and his shirt, once again, slid upwards. Harry saw the beginnings of the deep scar he noticed earlier, but this time he wasn't as sly. Sirius quickly pulled his shirt down, following his godson's gaze.
Harry looked up at him, worry etched into his features. "I, er-sorry, I…" he stammered, backing away from the tall form of his godfather. This was unchartered territory for Harry - he never cared for the Dursley's enough to worry about them or their pasts. However, his bond with Sirius had grown so much over the last few weeks, and he wanted the man to confide in him.
"Don't apologize," Sirius said simply. "To be honest with you, Harry, I'm still learning how to cope with this. There was a time not too long ago that I thought I'd die in Azkaban and I was resigned to that fact. Now that I'm here, living out life with my godson, who I thought I'd never see again… well, I'm so thankful to have you here with me Harry. I want to get rid of the memories that haunted my life and just enjoy this second chance, you know?"
Harry nodded. "I do know. Before I got my Hogwarts letter, I thought I would spend the rest of my childhood hated by the Dursleys. I thought I'd never have a proper family. Now that I'm here with Remus and you… well, that's why I didn't want to take the Dursleys to court. I just want to forget that part and make new memories.
Sirius looked at Harry for a moment, surprised at how well they understood each other. "You're very wise for your age, kiddo."
Harry smiled and looked down at his feet. The compliment from his godfather warmed his heart as much as the hot chocolate had. "We can help each other," Harry suggested timidly, sneaking a look up at Sirius again.
Sirius smiled genuinely for the first time that night. He pulled Harry into an embrace, one hand gently stroking the back of his hair. Harry hugged back with equal gusto.
After a moment, Sirius pulled out of the embrace, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders and leaning down so they were eye to eye. Harry noticed the warmth was back in his godfather's grey eyes and he was smiling still. "We're going to get through this, love. And if I hadn't been down here tonight, I just want you to know you're welcome to come wake me and talk anytime you need - even if it's two in the morning. I'll never be angry with you."
"Thanks Padfoot," Harry murmured, feeling relieved that his godfather addressed his earlier fear.
Sirius smiled again and threw an arm around his godson's shoulders, walking him back upstairs. When they reached Harry's bedroom, Sirius hugged him again. "No more bad dreams, yeah?"
"Yeah," Harry said softly, feeling his eyelids growing heavy. He had never really been hugged this way before - he suspected this was what it felt like to be hugged by a father. "You either."
Sirius pulled out of the hug and squeezed his shoulder. "See you in the morning, love."
They both turned and walked into their rooms. As Harry climbed into bed, he felt much more at ease about his scar and living with Sirius. It was so strange - a month ago, Harry thought Sirius was a heartless murderer who had betrayed his parents. To have once believed him capable of something so gruesome was now astounding to Harry. Sirius was gentle, kind, and full of warmth. Being hugged multiple times a day was foreign to Harry, but something he was beginning to enjoy. He finally felt like he had someone he could count on that was an adult - someone who was wiser than Ron and Hermione, someone who was able to care for him like a parent.
He knew in that moment that Sirius was right - they were going to get through this, together.