Disclaimer: This story is being simultaneously published on AO3 (here: /works/28139226/chapters/68948340)

Author's Notes: This is going to be a "raising Harry"(duh) story, mostly on Sirius' POV, where he and Remus end up having to do it together. After the war, things are complicated between them, but the task of raising a kid together makes them address old wounds and, of course, fall in love.

The Whole Raising Harry Thing

chapter one

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

? of November, 1981

Right now, Sirius couldn't tell someone what time, day, or even year it is. Okay, maybe not the year thing, but the rest is true. He wasn't able to simply forget it was 1981, the year he lost everything. The year practically everyone he knew and loved went away in the most horrible of circumstances. It would seem unbelievable, but the pain in his chest that never went away after the 31st was too real to let him imagine it had all been a dream.

Hell, if someone had told him all that was to unravel in 1981 a year earlier, he wouldn't have believed them. Now, he looked at 1980 as the last year of his life where he was able to feel like himself. Even though everything was fresh in his memory, Sirius knew that he would carry the events that took place in 1981 with him wherever he went for the rest of his life. Nothing would ever be the same. The sun wouldn't be as bright and the jokes wouldn't be as funny as they once were.

He kept relieving that day, much to his displeasure. Still, Sirius had no choice but to look back at the moment he utterly, incredibly, and stupidly fucked up.

Merlin, how hadn't he seen it all coming?

Worm— Peter Pettigrew was never like the rest of them, to be quite honest. He did like Peter back in Hogwarts, but he was no James or Remus. No one in the Marauders actually enjoyed having to spend all that much time alone with Pettigrew, but he was always there anyway, he still mattered.

But right now he couldn't look at those simpler times with a single shred of fondness regarding Peter for what they once were.

He couldn't even put into words what he felt or had been feeling for the last days or weeks. The closest he could get to it was guttural sounds as he sobbed into a pillow. But that's an improvement of sorts.

For a while, all he could feel was uncensored rage, not only towards Pettigrew and Voldemort but towards himself too. Had he been better and smarter, all of this could have been prevented.

Rationally, Sirius knew that it wasn't all his fault, but he was used to knowing that a lot of the problems he caused could have been prevented had he thought things through. Making Pettigrew the secret keeper was his own idea and that destroyed him inside out. Fuck, how hadn't he noticed something weird was going on when Peter, who had never really put himself on the line for others, volunteered for something so incredibly risky?

Nevertheless, what was done was done and he couldn't do anything but cry about it, sometimes of sadness and other times of anger. And there's that word, "anger". Merlin, for the first few days after the 31st, that was all he could feel. All that mattered was finding that piece of shit traitor and making him pay for everything.

The catharsis of confronting Pettigrew was the only thing guiding him at that moment, he could not even think about James and Lily as anything but what felt like sacred entities that Peter had dared defy.

He was in some sort of dream-like state, as though his actions wouldn't have any consequences and he would wake up to find himself at the Gryffindor Tower with all of his friends, the life he had before it all went to shit.

Peter had expected Sirius to go after him, he wasn't the brightest Marauder, but he wasn't stupid to the point of not understanding Sirius' impulsive and brash behaviour. Peter's faults lied in his ever inferior wizarding skills. He had made an entire plan to frame Sirius as the traitor of the Order of the Phoenix.

However, he had been wrong to assume there would be any kind of hesitance from Sirius once he cornered him in the bright daylight of a muggle street. Surely all of those years spent in Hogwarts had meant something to Sirius, he was always impulsive and often careless, but never truly heartless. Well, Peter was right about Sirius not being heartless. But he had never been able to fully grasp the lengths to which Sirius would go for James.

Peter spent his years at Hogwarts trying desperately to amount to something in the eyes of James, but he felt as if nothing was enough when Sirius was right there not trying anything, being much cooler and, more importantly, much more loved by James. No one had ever spelled it out, but everyone knew that Peter was no Sirius in the eyes of James.

He never had anyone quite the same way Sirius had had James, so he could not understand for the life of him the way Sirius felt about his best friend and how he would not hesitate to kill him for a mere second, even though that meant killing one of your childhood best friends.

The act of treason had been cooking up for some time before 1981. Peter sometimes felt like a bit of an outcast in the group, as they got older and started talking about fighting in the war with a glint in their eyes, excited to become heroes of sorts, Peter didn't understand they were serious. All of them noticed that Peter didn't care as much as them. For a while, he thought they were just childish dreams, but things kept gradually getting more serious and so did the Marauders when it came to that old war fantasy that they had.

Peter couldn't understand how making plans for a future outside of the war didn't even cross the other's minds, what did they expect would happen once it was all over? Life wasn't built on superficial romantic ideas of martyrdom.

As he grew worried, other possibilities opened up for him, promises of a better, shinier future. All of that was quite seducing, even though Peter wouldn't be able to admit it to anyone and not even himself out loud for some time. But, as the promises grew, so did fear.

And, with that, came the snowball of events that culminated on the 31st of October 1981.

Even though many people doubted Sirius' intelligence over the years, he himself knew he was no fool. But, Merlin, he couldn't help but feel incredibly stupid when he looked back knowing what he did now about Peter. It was all under their noses; it made sense. And yet he had thought Remus, of all people, was the traitor. War-time paranoia was involved, despite that, he never felt so bad about something in his life.

So, full of uncensored rage and hoping for justice even if he had to do it with his own hands, Sirius set out to find Peter Pettigrew.

Maybe it was for the best that the spell Sirius cast towards Peter did not fully catch him, all it did was enable him from running away. Aware of Peter's animagus capabilities, Sirius ran towards him as he fell face-first to the cobblestones of the street and held him there at wand-point while not-so-lightly squeezing his throat so that Peter would pay the utmost attention to what he had to say.

"Si—Sirius, wait a second, I can explain, I swear it wasn't me!" Peter struggled to say as Sirius' grip on his throat tightened, his voice growing more desperate by the second as if he didn't have a plan up his sleeve.

"Listen here, you fucking piece of shit," Sirius said to him while looking feral and animalistic in a way Peter had never seen before, "I will tea—"

Luckily, Sirius was cut off by the loud cracks of a bunch of aurors apparating to the scene. He didn't finish his sentence and couldn't say anything as he was dragged off of Peter by two aurors who did their best to prevent him from doing anything else.

Had the aurors taken a few more minutes to appear at the scene, the outcome of the day would have been completely different.

After that, it was all silent. He vaguely remembered something about Peter being sent to Azkaban, but that hadn't brought the catharsis he was hoping for. It just made him angrier.

He didn't know what to do after the fact, so he went back to his flat and trashed everything, threw glass bottles at the walls, broke anything that was breakable on sight, minus the things that reminded him of James.

The rage was spilling out of him and he simply could not control it. He felt like a little kid who was finding out about magic for the first time at age 7, it all came out in outbursts, breaking windows without even thinking about doing it and smashing plates that were just sitting on the counter.

Sirius tried so hard to translate his anger into actions, but as he broke all his stuff, the anger only grew. He hated everything, and that was all he could feel. Until it wasn't, and a bottomless pit of utter sadness substituted his anger as he realised there was nothing left to throw against a wall or towards the ground that would require a minimal amount of energy. He only realised he wasn't standing anymore when his knees hit the ground of his small living room.

Even though his latest actions had altered the space quite a bit when he looked around all he could see was his old life. He looked at the fireplace and saw James the day he had flooed unannounced in the middle of the night to tell Sirius with the biggest smile on his face that Lily had gotten tired of waiting around for him to propose and decided to pop the question herself.

He looked at the scratched The Clash record, London Calling , that was lying on the floor under the table and all he could see was the Marauders playing it and drunkenly singing along on their first day off in weeks that were full of Order duties.

He looked at the shelf and saw an untouched game of chess that he had begun to play with Lily and planned on continuing sometime soon.

For the first time since it all went down, he cried. Everything was so fresh, he just wanted to curl up and die right there on the spot.

After some time of not being able to rise from the ground, he decided he couldn't stay at his flat anymore. There were too many memories there that just made the suffering feel louder inside his head. He picked the first few clothes he could find in his bedroom and some money he had left hidden and disapparated to the first place he could think of, the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley.

And that's where Sirius found himself now. He's been staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the last two or so weeks, he's not quite sure how long it's been.

He wished he could have gone somewhere more isolated from the wizarding community, but he didn't know two shits about muggle inns and didn't have the energy to go look for something else. So he settled there without telling anyone he knew, which wasn't hard, since he didn't know that many people anymore.

The melancholia he felt at this moment would put Ophelia to shame. Virtually, every day is the same for him. He wakes up in the lumpy bed of the room, which he pays 2 galleons for per day, at around two in the afternoon. Then, he reluctantly gets out of bed after some time and opens the door of the room, hoping to find something to eat since he's also been paying for the staff to bring whatever there is to eat to his door.

The Leaky Cauldron is not the fanciest of places, so sometimes the plate of lukewarm food isn't there, but he doesn't do much about it. Opening that door is the closest he gets to leaving the room at all. He mostly just sits and thinks about everything while trying to process it. Sirius finds that it's easier to fall asleep when he's in his animagus form, so he just stays like that for long periods of time. Unsurprisingly, a dog's thoughts are not as complex as human thoughts.

Sometimes he cries, other times he doesn't even have the strength to do so. Then, he drifts off to sleep and does it all again the next day. Mostly, he just spends time with his thoughts. Now, the moments of rage are long gone in his actions, but the feeling is still dormant inside of him.

After some time in such a state, his thoughts wandered to something other than Peter, James and Lily. He's reminded of Harry. Sirius had given Hagrid his motorcycle so he could take Harry somewhere safe. Thank Merlin he was alright.

But who was taking care of him now?

Merlin, where the fuck was his godson?

It wasn't that Sirius didn't love Harry and hadn't thought of him due to carelessness. The baby had been on the back of his mind for some time now, he just hadn't verbalised his concerns. The more he thought about him, the more he felt an overwhelming feeling of worry tug at his chest.

That's when Sirius Black realised that he must get his shit together sometime soon and do something about it, Harry was his godson after all. He just didn't have the strength needed.

Still, thinking of Harry made him come to his senses. He stretched on the bed and touched his face where he could still feel the ghost of dried tears. Then, his fingers reached his hair and for a moment images of Snivellus flooded his brain. So greasy, he thought.

So, in a burst of energy he hadn't felt in weeks, he leapt off the bed and began writing a letter to Dumbledore. He didn't want to seem like a complete mess, so he didn't write the date in fear he would miscalculate by a lot.

Dumbledore,

I'm sorry I haven't been present since after Peter's arres —

No, too formal and weird.

Please tell me where Harry is, I'm his godfather and have a right to know. I promise I won't try to take him awa —

Merlin, too desperate.

Since the events that took place on the 1st of November, I have been staying at the Leaky Cauldron. Truth be told, I have been in no fit state to do much about Harry's situation. But, please do tell me where he has been relocated to and how I may get in touch with him as his godfather.

Regards,

S. Black

Sirius didn't feel like himself while writing that short letter, it was all so stiff and nothing like his true self. But it'll have to do.

For the first time in weeks, he went downstairs to request the use of an owl. He sent the letter and went back to his room to pace. It was nice having something else to think about.

However, the rest of the day came and went without a response from Dumbledore. Sirius stayed awake for most of the night hoping that an owl would come, but he ended up falling asleep reluctantly.

When he woke up the next morning, he spotted a tiny piece of parchment lying on the table that was next to an open window. He got up from the creaky bed and quickly went to grab the paper. The owl must have come while he was sleeping, he figured. As he got closer, he could see what was written.

Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at 3 o'clock

R. Lupin

It slightly took aback Sirius, where was Dumbledore's response? He felt a bit of anger again.

His eyes skimmed the parchment twice as he made sure of what was written. Merlin, Remus. He hadn't thought about him much. Sure, he tainted a lot of the memories he had been thinking of James, but Sirius hadn't thought of him as someone that was going through the same struggles as him. He felt bad about it, so egotistical.

He glanced at the clock that was sitting on that table and his heart rate shot up when he realised it was 15 minutes past three. He scrambled to find something to wear, picked up the first shirt he saw, and put on the only pair of trousers he had brought. Sirius wished he had had more time to get ready, he didn't want Remus to see him like this, so...distraught and fragile-looking. Still, he had no choice but to go as he was.

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Sirius Black left the room and went down the flight of stairs, arriving at the pub, where he received a few curious glances. He wasn't sure whether they were due to his physical aspect or to who he was.

He caught sight of a man who had his back turned to him while sitting on a table, he could see that his shoulders were tense and immediately recognised the man to be Remus Lupin. Sirius approached and sat silently on the chair in front of him, avoiding eye contact.

"Sirius," called Remus, startled with a cup of tea in his hands as he hadn't seen him coming. "I—I'm sorry I didn't try to go after you sooner, I—"

"Did Dumbledore send you here?"

Remus looked a bit taken aback by that question, maybe he had expected a bit of a warmer reception. He took a few seconds to think before he answered.

"Y—Yes. He did." Sirius looked at him with an extremely annoyed expression, "But it's not what it seems!"

"So tell me where he is."

"Who?" Remus dreaded the conversation that was to come.

"Harry, of course," he snapped back as if it was obvious.

Remus put his cup down on the table carefully while planning what he was going to say next, knowing very well who he was dealing with.

"Sirius, it's not...so simple"

"Well, please indulge me," said Sirius sarcastically.

"He's with Lily's sister—"

"That cunt from the wedding?!" he raised his tone.

"Yes… she's his aunt, after all." Remus lowered his voice, "There are things Dumbledore won't tell me, but he said it was of extreme importance that Harry gets raised by the Dursleys. I'm afraid I can't go into much detail, as I don't know much either. But it apparently just has to be like this...I'm sorry, Sirius"

"Harry can't be raised by muggles, much less by them! For Merlin's sake! That's ridiculous!" Sirius was outraged, completely revolted. Then, after a quiet pause of not knowing where to go next with his arguments and Remus having now looked down at the cup in his hands, avoiding eye contact, he continued, "I'm his godfather, doesn't that count for anything?"

He was so tired of not being taken into consideration. He felt just like a rag doll, being thrown around for years, first by his family and then at the Order. He lost so much already...

"I know it sounds awful, but Dumbledore advised me to tell you that this is what's best for Harry—"

"The best for Harry?! Bullshit!" he banged his fist on the table, "And why didn't Dumbledore tell me this himself? That prick—"

"He knew you wouldn't take it well...I'm sorry, Sirius, I—"

There was nothing else he could say to Remus. Clearly, the issue wasn't going to get solved by him.

"But he's safe, right?" Sirius asked as he looked down at his lap, in a much quieter tone. He looked sadder than Remus had ever seen him.

"Yes, I promise he is. Dumbledore wouldn't endanger him, there must be some type of spell involved, I'm not sure...but it is probably the best for him. Safety-wise, at least."

Silence settled between them, Sirius thought to himself that he would come back to this problem later, let Dumbledore think he would back down or some other bullshit. But, for now, he would sort out his own life.

"How have you been, anyway?" Remus asked carefully with genuine concern in his voice.

How could I put it into words? Awful. Terrible. Dreadful. It's excruciating. Absolute agony. The worst thing that has ever happened to me and, oh boy, that says a lot, Sirius thought to himself. He could feel the anger boiling up in him.

"It's been fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes, Remus. Fine. What else could I say to you? That it's been a sea of roses?" Sirius questioned him in an increasingly annoyed manner. At that moment, Remus looked more tired than Sirius had ever seen him, and, again, that's saying something. He regretted being so harsh.

"Sirius—"

"No, I—I'm sorry, Remus. I don't want to lash out at you, it's just that, y'know… I don't know how else to react." There was a bit of an awkward silence. Remus wanted to say something meaningful so bad, but he couldn't think of anything. He had come to the Leaky Cauldron to try and offer Sirius a helping hand, not only because Dumbledore had asked him to, but everything was just so stiff between them that he didn't even know how to break the ice anymore. Good intentions are not enough, so he just felt bad for making Sirius listen to all of this when he'd clearly not been well.

"I tried...to find you. After everything, I went by your flat twice, then I figured that you must have been sleeping somewhere else. I didn't want to bother you or anything, but then Dumbledore owled me explaining the whole situation and telling me you were here. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, before that."

"Right." Sirius didn't know what else to say. He felt bad about not having spared Remus much thought, he was as involved in the situation as Sirius was, maybe he should have reached out. But things weren't the same anymore, it was weird, different. "How's everything else? He's in Azkaban, right?"

"Peter? Yes, for life. The rest is pretty much the same. Truth be told, after everything, there are not many people left to check up on." He gave a dry chuckle.

"And how have you been?"

"Me?" Remus asked as if he didn't expect the question. "It's been tough, but I know it's been harder for you."

"No, Remus. You were their friend too, you have to stop diminishing your suffering when you're afraid of 'offending' others," and there was that awkward silence again. Every time the conversation went slightly past the usual small talk, they seemed to find roadblocks. Things really weren't the same anymore. Back in simpler times, they could talk about any and everything, the four of them. Now, it felt like they could barely talk about the weather without conjuring up old and fresh wounds.

"It's...complicated," Remus looked at his cup of tea that had gone cold at this point.

"How was the full moon?" Sirius asked in a low tone, "I'm sorry I wasn't there...especially now." During the Order days, the full moons were never the same as they once were at Hogwarts. Not only because Remus had been working as a spy inside the werewolf community, but also because adult life had hit the Marauders at full speed. Suddenly, the four of them couldn't all spend full moons together anymore, there were missions, jobs, and, by the end, a baby. But, after the 31st, Sirius should have thought about how Remus probably didn't have those werewolves to keep him company in those days anymore.

"It was fine." There was that word again, "It was on November 3rd, your birthday. It's okay, you don't need to worry about it, I manage them better than when I did back when you guys weren't animagi yet," there was a sense of longing in his voice.

Right after he said that, the waitress came and took Remus' cup away, relieving Sirius of having to say answer anything at all. Remus stretched his arms out, he was clearly very tired, but didn't look it as much as Sirius probably did at that moment. But, as Remus stretched, something caught Sirius' eyes, a patched up injury in Remus' upper left arm. It looked quite big, judging by the size of the bandage.

"And what day is it today?" Sirius tried to sound natural.

"November 23rd," he answered, trying not to worry about Sirius' mental state. "Happy belated birthday, by the way."

"Oh. Right. Guess I'm 22 now," he tried to sound nonchalant about it. His birthday hadn't really crossed his mind, so he couldn't be even slightly mad about anyone "forgetting" it or anything. He didn't mind it, he was paying more attention to the fact that he remembers from the Hogwarts days that the wounds weren't so deep and that they healed in a week or so. They were only ever that bad in the first few years. He looked at Remus as if waiting for a truthful explanation.

"Sirius, it's fine. Really." Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Look, it was...tougher than usual. But I'm managing it...it was to be expected."

Sirius wished he could tell Remus that he'd go back to spending the full moons with him but everything felt like he would be stepping over boundaries and prying. So, he pretended he believed that it would be fine.

Silence settled between them again.

Remus glanced at the watch that was hanging on the wall of the pub, he looked startled.

"Shit," he cursed and started fishing for his wallet inside of his trouser's pocket, "I'm sorry, Sirius, I've got to go now."

He does look sorry, thought Sirius.

"It's fine, I'll handle it," he said as he reached for his pocket hoping to find some forgotten change.

Remus looked down at his wallet with a blank expression.

"I insist," Sirius said with some sort of formality that felt foreign to him while talking to Remus, of all people.

Remus nodded. It wasn't normal for Remus to go down without a fight when it came to others paying for him, he hated it. But Sirius didn't plan on asking any questions and got a few sickles from his pocket. Remus got up from his chair and turned to look Sirius in the eye.

"If you ever need anything, Sirius, please let me know." Sirius looked up at him and nodded.

"You too," he responded.