A/N: Hey gang! I know I'm a day late, but in my defense, it was my birthday yesterday. Either way, hope you guys enjoy!
Harri really is the luckiest girl in the universe. Instead of having to go to regular school, Padfoot and Moony are going to teach her at home! No more mean teachers, no more cruel girls who won't play with her, and best of all, no more Dudley!
All of yesterday, Moony had sat at the kitchen table, devising up a lesson plan, flicking through a veritable mountain of books. In the meantime, Harri had coaxed Padfoot into a game of Gobstones. She was quite good, and Padfoot didn't really complain every time he lost.
"Remind me to teach you chess," he grumbled, swiping off the puss on his face.
"Is it just regular chess?" Harri asked, intrigued. She'd seen the older kids at her school play it, the year fours and fives. Padfoot shrugged.
"I've never played muggle chess," he said. "You'll have to tell me."
Today, she sits at the kitchen table, a safe way away from the books. Moony could get temperamental if they were disturbed, Padfoot explains, best to stay out of his way. She gulps down milky tea and toast, a staple around her. Kreacher's learned to do the toast just right, and he barely calls her Brat anymore. Of course, he doesn't call her Harri either. If he's talking about her, he'll just call her the child.
"What are we going to do today?" she asks the kitchen at large. Moony, still nearly invisible behind his pile of books, waves a piece of parchment at her.
"I'll translate," Padfoot says, rolling his eyes. "He means you'll have your first lesson today, soon as he's finished."
"Brilliant! Will I get a wand? What sort of magic will I learn?" Moony peeks over the pile, mouthful of toast. He swallows quickly, laughing a little.
"Not yet, darling," he says. "First we've got to talk about the basics. Keep up with the reading and the maths."
Harri flushes. She had thought she'd be done with that.
"We'll start with history, first," Moony says. "Promise I won't make it dry."
After breakfast, they troop into the library to set up their history lesson. Moony's a really good teacher, and just like he promised, it's not dry at all. She learns about Hogwarts, the houses, the founds, and the ghosts. Padfoot joins them too, peppering in his stories about Peeves, the poltergeist. Harri resolves to never cross paths with him when she gets to school.
They keep up their lesson all the way to lunch time, and Harri even gets an assignment. She's to write about her favorite part of the lesson, on parchment paper, with a quill. Nervously, she agrees. She doesn't have the best penmanship with a regular pencil, let alone a quill.
They do lessons every day, though the topic changes. Some days, Harri learns about Hogwarts and what types of magic there are. Other days, she learns about the ministry and Gringotts. Sometimes, Padfoot gives her Latin lessons.
"It'll help with your wandwork," he explains. It's difficult work, especially the Latin, but she doesn't mind. She can even introduce herself now.
Usually, Moony teaches her, with Padfoot hovering close, but he takes over when Moony has to go back.
After a week of lessons, Moony has to go back to his part of London. His boss, he had explained, was ill, and he needed to look after the shop. Padfoot had been handed a stack of notes about her lessons and off he'd gone.
The first day Moony was gone, things were mostly normal. They missed him, sure, but Padfoot carried on like Moony would. The next few days after that were… hard.
Harri could see where his patience wore thin, and she tried not to get on his nerves. It was hard to predict his moods, though, and as a result, Padfoot had snapped at her once. He'd been really sorry about it after, clinging and cuddling despite Harri's insistence that she was alright.
Today, he seems particularly strange, bustling about the kitchen, trying to cook up lunch. He'd shooed Kreacher from the kitchen and insisted that he do it himself.
"I can help," Harri offers. "I know how to make some things."
"S'alright! Here, try this!" he says brightly—strangely, Harri thinks privately—dumping a half0liquid, half-solid lump onto her plate.
"Er," she says, examining it. "What is it?"
"It's…" Padfoot trails off, the energy seeping off his face. "It's probably not good, Hazza, never mind." She tries to protest, but he doesn't let her, clearing the plate and calling Kreacher back to make her lunch.
Harri doesn't like when Padfoot goes off on his own in this house. She doesn't know where she goes, because both he and Moony had banned her from a lot of the rooms. She doesn't know what he does and he always comes back in a sad, angry mood.
As it turns out, he didn't even make it that far. Harri finds him pacing in the front hallway, muttering darkly to himself.
"Traded that fucking cell for this one," he says, low and angry. "Can't fucking stand it!"
"Padfoot?" she calls cautiously. He stops abruptly, a faint pink appearing on his cheeks. He tries for a smile, but it comes out mangled and decidedly un-Padfoot-like. "Alright?"
"Yeah, fine," he says. Even his voice is strange. Harri wishes she could fix him, make him feel better somehow. She wishes Moony was here too. "Just… er, just needed a minute, sorry, darling."
"S'okay," Harri says. She takes his hand and holds tight. It's something she learned from Moony, who'll do that to her or Padfoot when they're feeling down. "Shall we play game? Maybe you can show me wizard's chess?"
"Can't find the bloody chess set," Padfoot mutters, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. Harri squeezes tighter.
"A different game? Not Gobstones, but anything you like!"
"I need some air," he says, but it doesn't sound like he's talking to her.
"Shall we open the windows?" Harri suggests. She feels squirmy and weird, and she definitely doesn't like this.
"I need to be out," he says. "I need some real air, and I need the sun."
"But—"
"I know why I can't!" he says sharply, and Harri drops his hand, shrinking back into herself. She's such an idiot, of course he knows.
"Fuck, I'm sorry, Harri," he says, crouching to meet her eyes. "I'm trapped here in this house and we can't leave—"
"Because of me," she supplies, thinking back to the conversation she overheard a week ago. She'd tried to put it out of her mind, but sometimes, in moments like these, it pops back up. "If I wasn't here you could go to Romania and get the tail-thing to set you free."
"You heard that, did you?" he asks softly. "Harri, that's not true. I couldn't leave either way, and besides, I couldn't bear to go anywhere without you."
"I don't know how to help you," she confesses, guilt still swirling in her stomach.
"That's not your job," he explains. "I'm meant to take care of you, not the other way around."
"I don't mind," Harri says quickly, in case he gets any ideas of dropping her back at the Dursley's. "Really!"
"We just a break," Padfoot says, straightening up. "The both of us. Children can't be cooped up like this, it's inhumane."
Harri doesn't know that word, but it doesn't sound good.
"Kreacher!" There's a sharp crack and Kreacher appears, scowling at the pair of them.
"What does Master want now?" he sneers.
"I need you to disguise us," he explains. "I need to be shorter, paler, with blond hair and blue eyes. Same for Harri."
"Why?" Harri asks. Still, she watches, fascinated, as the change settles over Padfoot and he becomes a stranger. Kreacher turns to her and flicks his hand, and Harri gasps at the sensation of magic. It's cold and sort of ticklish.
"Brilliant," says Padfoot. "Completely unrecognizable!"
"Why do we need to be unrecognizable?" Harri pushes.
"I'm taking you to Diagon Alley!" Padfoot tells her, grinning wide. "It's a shame you've never seen it. We can get supplies, and more books to teach you, plus the best ice cream you've ever had in your life!"
"But, I thought we weren't meant to go out," she says. "Moony says—"
"Moony's not here, and I'm in charge," Padfoot says quickly. "You really want to skip ice cream?"
Harri doesn't care about the ice cream, though it does sound nice. Still, maybe this will make Padfoot feel better, and he'll be normal again. Just a quick trip where they won't speak to anyone.
"Alright," she says. "I'll come."
"Good," he says. "But I can't call you Harri. We'll have to pick something else."
"How about Hedwig?" she says. Saint Hedwig, the witch who discovered permanent sticking charms, was one of the few standouts from a History of Magic. Most of those lessons had been dull despite Moony's best efforts, but Harri had liked the name.
"Alright," Padfoot says. "Off we go, Hedwig, stick close now."
Snickering despite herself, Harri takes his hand and follows him out the door.
Ron's absolutely buzzing with excitement. Diagon Alley is his favorite place in the whole world, and even though neither he nor the twins are going to school this year, they're still excited to go. Ginny is the only one who's stroppy.
"I don't want to go!" she declares, stamping her feet. Bill and Mum exchange glances, and Mum's face gets read, but before Mum can yell, Bill crouches down and whispers something in Ginny's ear. At once, her expression clears, and she beams up at him.
Ron can't help the little burn of jealousy. He wishes Bill would remember he had five brothers, not just Charlie and Ginny. Still the prospect of Diagon Alley perks him up considerably.
At Diagon Alley, Ron shakes off the aftereffects of riding through the Floo. They're waiting outside Gringotts while Mum makes a withdrawal. Charlie's trying to keep Fred and George in line while Bill patiently answers all of Percy's questions. Ron's been given the task of holding onto Ginny.
Finally Mum comes back, clutching the coin purse.
"Right, three sets of supplies to buy and no dad," she mutters, shaking her head. "We'll have to divide, I suppose."
"Brilliant!" Fred crows, but Mum gives him a sharp look.
"The twins and Percy with me, while Bill, you take the rest. Keep an eye on Ron and Ginny, won't you darling?"
"Course, mum," he promises with a grin. Ron's jaw drops, he can hardly believe his luck! Grinning, Charlie swings Ginny up on his shoulder and Bill grins down at Ron.
"Meet back at the Leaky Cauldron at noon, sharp! Do not forget!" Bill assures her and they take off.
"If we're quick and you two are good, we can go to Quality Quidditch Supplies," Bill says. Happy beyond belief, Ron takes his hand, following him along.
Dot is a proper beast when she's ill, and Remus would know. He's been running back and forth between the store and her apartment, ferrying up cups of tea or books as she finishes them. She snaps at him and moans about her illness, and Remus refrains from wondering aloud how it is she's never married.
Today, though, she's well enough to come down and look after her own bloody store. Remus shoves the latest arrivals into the shelves, trying to stay clear of her. If he finishes up fast, he can go home.
It's strange that he means Grimmauld Place instead of the flat, but he can't help himself. Sirius is there with Harri, and that's where Remus belongs. It makes him feel guilty, especially since Sirius despises the place, but he's come to appreciate the cozy library he's commandeered as his classroom, and even the bedroom he's been given, despite it's silver and green décor.
He'll bring Sirius something back, as an apology. He's always been fond of muggle liquor, so Remus grabs a bottle of sherry and another of brandy to take back. Maybe they'll have a drink together after Harri's gone to bed.
Around noon, a small miracle grace's the store and Dot waves him on, insisting she can handle the crowds by herself. Remus looks around, finds a single other person browsing the store and agrees, leaving immediately.
Humming a little, he makes his way back to Grimmauld Place, the bottles carefully stowed in his bag. The door swings open for him and he calls out for Harri and Sirius, expecting at least Harri to come running up to say hello.
He calls a few more times, going so far as to check around the house, but no one is there. Even Kreacher has gone off to hide somewhere. Panic courses through him and Remus dumps the contents of his bag on the sofa, looking around wildly.
The mirror. He needs James' and Sirius' bloody mirrors. Sirius had sent Kreacher off in search a few days ago and Sirius had given one to Remus, in case of emergencies.
"Sirius Black!" he all but yells into the mirror. The man who answers is not Sirius, or so Remus thinks before he takes in the shape of his face. Sirius is going to have to work harder if he wants to disguise himself.
"Remus! Thank fuck, I was just about to—"
"Where. The. FUCK. Ar. You?" Remus snarls through tight teeth. Sirius recoils a little, shame clear on his face. Panic beats harder against him, and Remus's breathing goes faint.
"We're, uh, listen, we're in Diagon Alley—"
"Why would you be so fucking stupid—"
"Just listen!" Sirius commands and at once Remus shuts up. "I took Harri out. I know it was stupid, I know! But now I can't find her and—"
"You can't find her," Remus repeats, faint.
"No! We were going to Quality Quidditch Supplies, but there was this whole group of people, and then I saw Nymphadora, and I had to make sure she didn't see me, and in the whole commotion, I lost Harri."
"It didn't occur to you not to go out during the Hogwarts rush?" Remus asks. The panic and anger have run their course and all that's left is a cold, furious rationality. Sirius sputters, but Remus cuts him off.
"Where are you exactly?"
"The Leaky Cauldron," he says. "I told her to meet me here in case we got separated, but—"
"Stay exactly where you are and don't fucking move," Remus says. "I'm coming to get you."
A/N: Quick question about Sirius: how does his personality feel to you guys? Is there a balance between Mauraders!Sirius and Trauma!Sirius? Let me know what you thought!