A/N: What? 2 posts in the same week? I astound myself. This also happens to be my longest chapter yet, I believe. I would like to thank finals for causing me to seek out ways to avoid studying.

Thank you, also, for all of your lovely comments and reviews. You helped inspire me to keep writing.

Chapter 10

When his father and grandfather returned, Sirius was still hiding in the library. He heard Kreacher inform them that Walburga went to her rooms, and that there had been a fight between mother and son. Kreacher was a traitor.

Two sets of footsteps headed upstairs, and Sirius knew that his mother would tell them every last detail of the fight. He sighed in resignation, slumping back into the comfortable armchair and staring forlornly into the fire. He felt that this would make a suitably pitiful tableau for his grandfather and father to find, and would perhaps spare him from another scolding.

Sometime later the Lord and Heir Black entered the room. Each man took a separate chair by the fire for himself, and sat in silence for another few minutes.

"You know, when I heard you ran away, I felt beside myself with anger, hurt, worry…but underneath it all I couldn't help but feel a bit proud." Arcturus said lightly.

Sirius's head shot up, eyes wide in surprise. Even Orion looked baffled at where his father was going.

"Do you know how many times Orion threatened to run away?"

Orion groaned at this. "Father, please."

"Every two weeks it seemed like he was planning to run away. One time he even managed to pack a small bag—not even one with an expansion charm on it, mind you—and made it to the floo. Said he planned to go stay at the Nott's because they would treat him better."

"But he didn't run away?" asked Sirius, delight filling him at this story of his usually put-together father.

"Oh no. Didn't even get a hand on the floo powder."

"What changed his mind?"

Orion had his head thrown back on his chair, staring at the ceiling like it would help stop Lord Black from continuing.

"Kreacher told him the porridge was done, bade him to eat a good meal before he left for the Nott's."

"P-porridge?" Sirius was wheezing. "N-not e-even s-something better-rr?"

"Porridge. Plain, albeit delicious, porridge." Arcturus had a wide grin on his face. The old man never got tired of humbling his son and heir, even if there hadn't been a reason to this time.

Sirius cackled at that.

"Once he finished eating, he started crying and begged Melania to not make him run away."

Sirius suddenly shot up from where he had slumped over laughing. "Wait, is this why Kreacher gives father porridge every morning for breakfast?!"

Arcturus didn't say anything, but Orion's huff was answer enough. Sirius turned to him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Father, why were you even trying to run away?"

Orion opened his mouth at this opportunity to save face, but Arcturus beat him to it. "Oh well he hadn't been feeling well the day before and so he didn't eat much for breakfast or lunch. Then, as I recall, he fell asleep before dinner and didn't wake until after the usual breakfast time!"

"…you mean…"

"Sirius, don't." His father interrupted.

"…to tell me…"

"Sirius, I mean it."

"that"

"Sirius!"

"he wanted to run away"

"Sirius! You will listen to me!"

"because he got hangry?"

"Sirius Orion Black!" Even if Sirius hadn't fallen off of his chair from laughing, he wouldn't have been able to take his father's indignation seriously. The usually reserved man was bright red and looked like he was contemplating who he should kill first.

Lord Black, quite on brand for him, was leaning back in his chair, hands steepled in front of him, and looking all too pleased with himself.

February 10, 1982

Dear Sirius,

Thank you for your candid letter. I know it is not easy to give such an objective recounting of one's own quarrel with another. Aunt Walburga loves you. And, while she might not show it in the best way, and without excusing her behavior, I will say that she has always wanted the world for you. This entire family has gone through a hard time lately, and I can only imagine how much more painful it all is for you as you mourn the loss of your dearest friends.

I have been worried about you.

Don't think I have been oblivious to how you hide behind Bellatrix's own pain. You are allowed to continuing hurting, even as a member of your family hurts. It does not make you selfish.

Having said that, I do believe it is time you start to healing. I know it is easier said than done, but I also know that you have not tried as hard as you could. Let me be as direct as possible, Sirius, for I don't think gentle will work anymore with you. Aunt Walburga was right when she said you need to focus on Harry now.

It has been months since Lord and Lady Potter were killed. The pain of their deaths will, no doubt, never stop being present. But you must overcome it, if only for their son—your son's sake. Harry is young and innocent, and though he still feels the loss of his parents, he is recovering marvelously with the love and care of his new family. But he needs you, Sirius.

He asks after you every day, and though he never says it plainly, it is clear he worries that you, too, will disappear from his life like his parents did. I do not say this to cause you worry. I think this trip is good for him. Once he returns, and it is clear that you are still alive and well, I believe this will prove to be a good exercise in overcoming his trauma.

Take the remainder of this time as an exercise for yourself. Honor your loved ones, both Lord and Lady Potter, as well as Regulus, but do not let regrets of the past or guilt or shame consume you.

I am sure that not one of them would want you to destroy yourself like this.

Now, let me tell you about how little Harry and the rest of the children have been doing here. He loves the sea. His ability to breathe underwater for an extended period of time is both terrifying and amazing. Did you know about this particular ability? It's as if he was born with gillyweed in his blood. He nearly gave poor Ophelia a heart attack when he didn't surface for a full two minutes. Thankfully, this was in the indoor pool and not the sea, so we were at least sure he had not been swept away by the tides. He thought it was great fun, although young Pansy did not find it nearly so amusing. Apparently, it is possible to scold someone entirely through babble and a few choice words.

She will be a force to be reckoned with when she is older, although, given what her mother is like I suppose this is not such a surprise.

Surprisingly, Pansy has taken quite a shine to timid little Neville. Though she hates dirt as much as Draco, she let Neville drag her all around the gardens. Bellatrix and Dahlia both have been insufferable in their cooing, but we are all agreed that they will make the best of friends. Daphne and Harry seem quite fond of each other now as well. Daphne is quite shy, and seems almost cold because of it. Ophelia told me she worries greatly for her daughter. If she does not grow out of it, people might never look past the cold exterior. This is something I know all too well. Harry takes great care of her though, and does not require her to even nod or shake her head before seeming to know what she needs. Their magic too seems quite compatible, and I believe that also helps them communicate nonverbally.

I have taken the liberty of supplying you with ample pictures of the children. My favorite picture is of Harry and Daphne tackling my sulky Draco into a pile of mud. I think Draco was feeling a bit left out of the group, as Neville and Pansy, and then Daphne and Harry seemed to become such fast friends. You may not know this because Draco bonded so quickly with Harry and Neville, but it does usually take him quite a long time to warm up to strangers. Even as a small baby it took him several months to tolerate young Theodore Nott's presence near him. He has a terrible habit of lashing out when he feels uncertain or awkward. This did not endear him to the girls, but they seem to be overcoming that little hiccup. Harry helped greatly with that. It is fascinating to see how such young children socialize. Harry will no doubt be a great leader, much like James was to your little group of miscreants.

The other women and I hope to arrange more play dates for the boys with other children their age. This would, of course be with your permission. Ophelia said Lady Zabini has a boy their age, Blaise, I believe his name is. Bellatrix was also told by Aunt Callidora that Neville has had several playdates with Heiress Bones and Heiress Abbot.

I was thinking that perhaps we could have them all over to Malfoy Manor during the next great snowfall. The children would have lots of fun playing in the snow.

It is nearly time for dinner, and this letter has become much longer than I anticipated.

I will leave you with these final thoughts:

It is okay to love someone and hate parts of them. It is okay to still love someone, even if you don't agree with or love their actions. The world is not black and white, but filled with lovely and complicated shades of grey. You can love your mother, even if you hate what she has done in the past, just as I am sure she loves you but might hate some of what you have done.

It is also okay to live when those you love have died. In turn, the ones who loved us never really leave us. James and Lily Potter might haunt you as you say. But let their ghosts not be malicious or sinister. Let them be as they were in life: true friends and family; kind and loving; supportive and protective. They left you with their most precious person, with full faith that you could be his third parent.

They haunt you in your mind, but not in reality. They loved you, and though I did know them well, I know as surely as I know my own name that they would not want to see you suffer so.

I love you, Sirius.

I forgive you for everything. Now, learn to forgive yourself too.

Narcissa

Narcissa's words rattled around his head and heart. He had written her after leaving his father and grandfather bickering in the library. He had gotten her response the next day. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Sirius had almost been hoping for a scathing rebuke, as he had not received one from his relative's thus far, and it felt…wrong.

And that, in and of itself, was the problem. It was hard to unlearn all of the schematic expectations he had formed about his family. He ensconced himself in his room and took another day to reflect. With Narcissa's permission(?), her support, he felt like perhaps he could now start to forgive himself and his family. And if not forgive entirely, at least accept that the past was the past and they could do nothing now but move forward. He had said it before, promised to do so before, but that was months earlier and he lied to himself.

He could not even try to blame this swirling vortex of emotions on potions or spells. His heir ring prevented it, and even if it hadn't, his Patriarch had taken him to the goblins for a full cleanse. Nothing came up as being in system. No, Sirius only had himself to blame.

In truth, he had not been a good son. He was headstrong, and selfish, and arrogant. Even as a child he had believed himself the smartest in the room. He had liked being difficult. He liked being "controversial" and "edgy" and that meant that he often would speak in favor of Dumbledore and his political agenda, even if he had not fully understood it or truly agreed with it. He just knew it would get him attention, and any kind of attention was good with him. Eventually he started believing his own lies. Andromeda would also egg him on. His eldest cousin had a way with words and he remembered how she would often tell him great tales she had heard of Dumbledore. Those instances were the only times he could really remember her ever interacting with him, and he just thought she was the absolute coolest.

When he was finally at Hogwarts and sorted in to Gryffindor, the fear he felt at how his family might react was largely exaggerated in his own head. Looking back now it seemed to have been blown completely out of proportion. Grandmother Melania was a Hufflepuff after all. It isn't as if the Black family had only ever been sorted into Slytherin, and his family was really more focused on who the person was rather than which house someone had been sorted into. Uncle Alphard had been vocal about how he had a hat stall between Slytherin and Gryffindor. The only reason he had gone to Slytherin was that his best friend was there already.

No, he had preemptively and defensively reacted how he thought his family would react. He refused to talk to Narcissa or Bellatrix, and later he completely rejected Regulus. And then he got caught up in James' rivalry and hatred of all things Snape—which included Slytherin.

He had also reveled in how different it made him. Dumbledore fed that nasty part of his ego too. Always commenting on how special he must be because he was the only Gryffindor in the Black family. Always saying he could come to the Headmaster anytime he needed support, since it was obvious his family would not do the same. How many times had Dumbledore covered for the Marauders? How many times had they been let off scot-free for their pranks, even when it occasionally landed the victim in the Hospital Wing? Dumbledore would just chuckle with twinkling eyes and say, "Ah, it's just a bit of fun. Every young Gryffindor has done the same now and again. But I'm sure you don't hear many stories from your relatives about that, right Sirius? Now you can be the one to tell them!"

James had always taken Dumbledore up on his offers of tea and lemon drops. Of course, wherever James went, Sirius followed. They spent hours upon hours in the Headmaster's office. Feeling like kings of the school because they had been personally invited for a social visit with such an important person. Dumbledore would tell them about his adventures in the Wizengamot as if every meeting was a great feat. They heroized him because he made them feel like favored mentees.

Sirius hung on to his every word. Believed him when he told him what this family or that family was doing. When Dumbledore told him that Lucius was a suspected Death Eater, he gasped and jeered that "of course pompous Lucy would bow at someone else's feet." Not even realizing that even if true, Sirius was really no better.

But Lucius wasn't a Death Eater. And wasn't that just a giant fight between him and Narcissa? When he got her invitation to their bonding, he sent back a nasty reply saying he would never support her union with death eater scum.

He hadn't expected her to storm in and send a wave of hexes at him, all while screaming about how Lucius was not, nor ever would be, a death eater. Lucius, quite literally, would never be able to. He was bound by marriage contract, which magically prevented him from becoming one without Narcissa and Lord Black's permission. Neither of them would ever agree, so it was a non-issue.

Regulus had been a Death Eater though. He beat even Sirius with his last act of rebellion. It was wonder the Family Magic hadn't ripped him apart for pledging himself to another. The Black Family Magic was proud and unyielding. The dark mark was a magical bond that forced a witch or wizard's allegiance away from their Family Magic to another's. Sirius was sure that had Regulus not already died, the Family Magic would have eventually killed him as punishment for taking the mark.

The world was not made up of good people and Death Eaters, Sirius had to remind himself. For whatever reason Regulus had become one—whether by his own will or by the influence of others, as he hinted in his letters. Regulus was good though. He had always been so inherently good. Sirius could not fathom, even for a moment, that his brother lost that goodness when he became a Death Eater.

No, Sirius was just heartbroken at the thought of his brother feeling so lost and hurt that he felt his only option was to take the mark, or that his brother was lead there like a lamb to slaughter by those Sirius once thought were his friends.

Narcissa was right. It was time Sirius really started trying to get better.

A long shower and fresh robes were step one. Kreacher popped in, because the elf was freakishly omniscient like that, ready to trim Sirius's unkempt hair and give him a clean shave. The old elf also made sure to bring Sirius a lunch tray with all of his favorite. Kreacher stayed in the room with a watchful eye on his charge while he bustled around cleaning up and airing out the room. Fresh sheets were laid on the bed, curtains drawn and window opened, and every surface dusted and scrubbed clean. Sirius was able to finish the entire tray, rather than his usual half. As Kreacher moved to clean the table, the elf gave a nod of approval and a few pats on Sirius's hand before he popped out of the room.

Already Sirius was feeling better. They were small accomplishments, but accomplishments all the same. He couldn't remember the last time he showered or wore fresh robes.

Sirius left his room, slowly meandering towards the solarium where Kreacher told him his parents were. Even his house felt different now. It felt more like a home again.

He stopped in the doorway, so far unnoticed by his parents. His father was painting. A large easel set up in the left corner, with a floating tray of paints and brushes following his father around as he moved plants to better positions for the still life. His mother sat on the comfortable sofa reading her favorite potion's tome, gently turning the pages and marking things down in her journal beside her.

"Do you need any more paints, love?" His mother asked. She was always made his father's paints by hand. When he was little, Sirius used to try to help her, and she never fussed when he put in the wrong pigment ratios.

"Hm…" His father went to his paint cupboard. "Perhaps some more of the shrivelfig purple?"

"Alright. I'll pick up some more shrivelfigs tomorrow then while I'm out. I'll make the paints this weekend though."

"Thank you, darling."

Walburga just hummed in response, flipping another page.

Sirius cleared his throat quietly entering the room. His mother looked up, grey eyes meeting grey eyes. Her face kept perfectly neutral. He had no idea what his face was showing.

Sirius just moved towards her, gently pushing her book away and laying down with his head on her lap. He curled into her, face pressed to her stomach and fingers clutching at her robes.

She sighed, but he knew he was forgiven when she wrapped one arm around him. With her other hand she ran her fingers through his trimmed hair.

"Oh Sirius…"

"M'sorry, mama." He pulled away from her only to make sure she could clearly hear his apology. Then, he shoved his face back into her stomach. It was a habit he had had since he was a baby.

"I love you, Sirius. So much. I am sorry I have failed you." Her voice was quiet. So different from the harsh quiet it was in the library. This was the soft quiet of his childhood. The sincere, warm, comforting, he remembered from when he was little and only Mama could make things better. Her magic slowly, carefully, as if expecting to be thrown off, wrapped around him. It was heavy and smelled like the herbs she often used in her potions, but it was achingly familiar and foreign at the same time. It had been too long since he last felt this.

He tightened his grip on her, tried to press even closer. His own magic rose up and twined with hers, pulling it closer to him as well.

"I love you too." He mumbled back. "I'm sorry I failed you too."

"My child. My baby." Walburga continued to run her hands through his hair.

Neither said anything else. Orion, who had paused his fiddling with the plants, watched with tears in his eyes. He and Walburga exchanged weighted stares above their son's head, full of relief and hope.

Sirius's own baby returned a few days later.

Bellatrix flooed in with him in her arms, and was barely even out of the fireplace before the young boy was squealing and squirming to given to Sirius.

"Daddy!" he shouted, relief clear as day that Sirius was not gone from his life. "Daddy! I missed you! I love you!"

Sirius took him from Bella and proceeded to smother him in kisses. His magic responding as well and wrapping itself tightly around the child. Harry slumped down into jelly as he felt his father's magic surround him. To a young child, a parent's magic wrapping around them was the most soothing thing. For Harry, who lost two of parents and their magic, it was especially important that Sirius keep him wrapped up as much as possible. Frayed bonds were dangerous if left unattended.

"My baby!" He couldn't stop his grin if he tried. "Did you have fun with your Aunt Narcissa and Aunt Bella?"

"Yesh!" was the enthusiastic response. "We went to the sea!"

Sirius gasped. "You went to the sea?! What did you do at the sea?"

"We—we swam!" Harry flailed his arms in demonstration. "N I holded my breath for lots!"

"Wow! Good job puppy! What else did you do?"

Sirius moved them into the family room and settled into an armchair.

Faintly he heard Bellatrix called out an amused, "Well hello to you too, Cousin!"

Kreacher bustled in and started the fire, muttering how it was much too cold for the young masters.

"Kreacher!" Harry got distracted from his excited retelling at the sight of the elf. "Kreacher! I missed you! I love you!"

If house elves could melt, Sirius was sure Kreacher would. The grumpy elf gave a rare, beaming smile. "Kreacher missed young master Harry too, he did. Does young master Harry need food? Kreacher brings snacks."

In a flash Kreacher was out and back with a tray of small, savory pastries and two glasses of warm milk. Sirius was on the receiving end of a fearsome glare until he picked up his much larger and non-spillproof glass of milk and took a large gulp.

Harry stuffed one of the pastries into his mouth, humming happily at the treat. "S'yummy! Thankie!"

The next twenty minutes Sirius spent eating and drinking with Harry. His son was able to tell him a bit more of what he did using a nice mix of words and babble. His verbal skills were increasing every day, and Sirius was both proud and sad that his baby was growing up so fast.

Suddenly, Harry gasped.

"What is it puppy?"

"Where's G'andma and G'andpa, and great G'andpa?" Harry looked incredibly worried.

"They're here baby, don't worry. Grandma had to go out to the shops, and Grandpa and great Grandpa were working at the Ministry today. They should be back though. Shall we go look for them?" Sirius was quick to soothe the boy, remembering how Narcissa said he was worried about people disappearing from his life again.

Harry looked only slightly mollified, however. His brow was still furrowed and grasp on Sirius's robes tightened.

Together they walked through the house, finding all three missing members talking with Bellatrix in the lounge on the second floor. Harry wiggled to get down, and ran over to each person to give them hugs and kisses. He managed to crawl onto the sofa between Walburga and Orion and began to recount, yet again, everything that could remember of what had happened to him over the last two weeks. Sirius was amused to hear how some things were retold quite differently this time. Bellatrix was at least here to chime in and clarify some things. Like how "Draco ate slug!" was not that Draco actually ate a slug, but that when he fell in some mud, a slug somehow ended up on his face.

The excited child finally seemed to lose his abundant energy. His eyes kept fluttering slowly closed before he tried to jerk himself away. The battle was quickly lost though, and Harry curled up in a small ball. Sirius laughed quietly when he looked over and saw his son asleep, head in Walburga's lap and face pressed to her stomach. He met his mother's eyes and they both smiled at the similarity between father and son.

All was not well with Sirius, not yet at least. But being here with his family, with everything and everyone warm and happy, it gave him assurance that things would be all well soon enough.

A/N 2: I hope you enjoyed! I tried to get some cute and some funny and some angsty (because Sirius is still a whole mess) and then end with some heartwarming.

I also added in a few references to the books that I wonder if you all caught? Peep Narcissa's letter, and Harry talking about Draco at the end there. ("Eat slugs!" anyone?)

Orion trying to run away as a child is based off of a true story. When I was little, I was Orion, and it was oatmeal that prevented the Great Escape. My mom still suggests I eat a bowl of oatmeal anytime I get too hangry…

As always, stay safe, sane, and healthy. I love you all!

Please review, even if it's just to yell at me to update more. I have finals in the next two weeks, but after that I am on break for a while and plan to write some more!

Okay, here begins that annoying world-building/author's explanations that you may feel free to skip!

I reiterate again that Lucius was not a Death Eater—this was first mentioned in Chapter 4 during the Malfoy's first visit to Grimmauld—and that the Black family is NOT HERE for the Death Eaters. Regulus aside, it's a hard no for them. The Family Magic is possessive and territorial, and the dark mark is essential a pledge to another house. I've said in a previous chapter that the Family Magic can be a double-edged sword, both protecting and punishing its members. In this case, it would have definitely punished Regulus for getting the dark mark.

I have also seen some comments pondering Sirius's mental state. It could be potions and spells, but I find that too convenient for this story! Dumbledore's influence was not potion induced, but a simple product of human-ness (that's a technical term, by the way). In our real world, even now, we see how people we thought were perfectly rational seem to follow the lead and ideals of big political figures who many others find…bat-shit crazy…to put it politely. And no, I am not referencing any one particular person by saying this. Throughout history, and in every country, there have been political leaders that polarize the public. There's no magic there. No potions or spell to cause people to fall under their sway. Hereto I think it important to see that Sirius was just a child caught up in the same thing. Additionally, his inability to healthily deal with his grief may be exacerbated by the presence of magic, such as his being "haunted", but it's also just his own psychosis. People grieve in different ways but sometimes they get stuck, and Sirius desperately needed someone to slap him out of it. Enter Narcissa.