Another credit: As I still am no native speaker of English (and probably will never become one), not everything here is mine. Well, everything except from the ingenious expression "anti-fussing alarms" which is Iniga's invention. I hope she doesn't mind me using it.

Chapter Four: When The Past Comes Back To Haunt Us

Slightly more than an hour later, Remus opened the front door and levitated three bags with his purchases towards the kitchen. From the living room he could hear Harry and Sirius talk, interrupted by an occasional laugh or the sound of an explosion. They seemed to be playing Exploding Snap, then.

"Sirius, Harry! I'm home!"

He received no answer, so he quickly stored away the food and went to see what they were doing. He found Harry sitting in one of the armchairs, checking through his Snap cards to find a way to make Sirius' deck explode.

Sirius was sitting on the sofa, his right leg stretched out next to him, minus boot and sock, the trouser leg rolled up to his knee. An ice package was lying on what was obviously a quite swollen and bruised ankle.

"Hey. I'm home."

Sirius looked up from his cards and waved at him, while Harry even managed a mumbled "Hi Remus" before he withdrew his attention again. None of them seemed to care in the slightest about whatever accident must have happened to Sirius. Or to explain it to Remus, for that matter. Remus raised an eyebrow.

"Erm, Sirius?"

Sirius raised his hand in a gesture that told Remus to wait, then he quickly put down the two remaining cards in his hands on top of Harry's. The pile of cards exploded, announcing the end of the game. Sirius grinned at his godson as Harry tried to wipe the soot out of his face.

"Told you I couldn't lose."

He turned around.
"Yes Remus?"

Remus just pointed at Sirius' ankle and raised both eyebrows in silent question. When no immediate answer came, he decided to try it with a verbalized question.

"Care to tell me how this happened? I leave you for slightly more than an hour, and you're already in need of medical help?"
Harry started laughing while Sirius just waved him off. He blushed and mumbled something Remus could not understand.

"What did you say?"

Sirius stared straight at the floor and repeated what he had said in an equally low and mumbling voice. But this time Remus listened carefully and was able to understand it.
"Kid's broom is dangerous. Could have killed me."

Exasperated, Remus turned towards Harry who by now had stopped laughing.

"Harry, what happened?"

Harry smiled as he recalled.

"Well, as it seems Sirius was not really prepared for how good the Firebolt accelerates. Or brakes, for that matter. He tried to stop the broom from full speed, and the broom stopped faster than he could hold on to it. He fell, but only about five feet deep."

Slowly, Remus nodded. Knowing Sirius, he should have guessed that something like this would happen.

"And you didn't do anything except from cooling the swelling because…?"

Sirius didn't even look up from where he was dealing out the cards for the next round.

"Because Harry is not allowed to do any magic during his holiday, I don't have an own wand and I might be stupid, but not stupid enough to try a healing charm with a wand that is not mine. I could hardly do them properly with my own. I like to keep my body parts the way they are supposed to be, thank you very much."

Again, Remus nodded. That, he mused, must have been the first sensible explanation he had heard from his old friend. Ever.

"Alright, let me have a look at it."

He sat down in the armchair next to the sofa and took the ice package from Sirius' foot. Gently, he prodded and squeezed the joint, evoking hisses and other exclamations of pain from his old friend every time he touched the injury. Sirius had always been quite the drama-queen back when they had been at school. The only time to be really concerned about him was when he pretended to be fine. Sirius never openly admitted when he was really injured.

Once, at the age of twenty-one, Sirius had come home bruised and battered after a crash with the Black Bitch, a 1969 Triumph, his beloved flying motorbike. Come to think about it, the only 'female' Sirius had ever loved passionately. Sirius had crashed her against a tree that night out of inattentiveness, but he had walked the rest of the way back home and had claimed to be all fine. It had taken Remus over two hours of talking and pestering to convince Sirius of his need for medical attention, and the following examination at St. Mungo's had revealed him to have a broken collarbone, a severe concussion, a sprained ankle and lots and loads of bruises and scratches.

So Remus was not overly concerned for Sirius' health at the moment, not with his old friend wincing and whining as if Remus was tearing off his foot.

"Ouch! Remus, be a bit more careful with that, will you?"

"Sorry, but I had to check whether anything is broken. This shouldn't be too difficult to heal."

Sirius didn't look too convinced and tried to keep his ankle as far away from Remus' now raised wand as possible.

"And what exactly do you know about healing magic?"

Remus shrugged.

"I don't really know, but I guess we're about to find out."

A look that could only be described as panic settled on Sirius' face and it didn't take long until Remus burst into laughter.

"Really Padfoot. Trust me?"

Hesitantly, Sirius stretched out his foot again. Remus raised his wand and tipped it onto the injured ankle, saying the incarnation for a basic healing charm. A soft red glow spread from his wand and around Sirius' foot, and after a short moment the swelling began to subside. Sirius carefully bent the joint and smiled in relief when he the movement didn't hurt.

"I'd be a little careful with it for the next one or two days, but other than that it should be fine. But it'll bruise nevertheless, there's nothing I can do about that."

Sirius nodded and bent down to retrieve his discarded sock.

"I can live with a bruise, I guess. Thanks, Remus."

Remus nodded and got up.

"You're welcome. Now, I'll go and see what I can make for lunch, shall I?"

Not waiting for his two houseguests to answer, Remus turned back into the kitchen where by now the purchases had sorted themselves into their respective shelves and cupboards.

Sirius' small injury had brought back memories of the many times he had ended up in the infirmary, back when they had still been at school. Quidditch had been one reason why Sirius had nearly had as many dealings with Madam Pomfrey as Remus had had himself.

Sirius had been a Beater, and a good one at that. More than once the opposite team (especially the Slytherins) had done their best to knock him off his broom and out of the game. And, as good as Sirius had been, they had succeeded in doing so more times than Remus cared to remember. Other times, Sirius himself had been just too daring for his own good as his universal approach on Quidditch and life in general. Concussions, a broken nose, a broken jaw, a cracked skull, broken collarbone, black eyes from an in-game brawl with a Slytherin Beater, Remus had long ago given up keeping count of Sirius' various Quidditch accidents. It would have been a full time job to do so, and that didn't even include all those times when Sirius had blown up his cauldron or had ended up on the receiving end of a Slytherin hex.

There had been a time when a bruised and swollen ankle would have hardly been worth mentioning. But that, like so many other things, belonged long in the past.

Footsteps on the stairs made Remus look up. He realized that he must have stood there for some moments and that he had not heard Harry pass through the kitchen and into the hall. When he turned around he found Sirius leaning in the doorframe, an unreadable expression on his face.

Remus gave him a short smile and pulled out a knife from a drawer. Placing the cutting board on the kitchen table and grabbing two onions from the shelf he tried to ignore the way Sirius looked at him. Maybe it would be better to ignore him completely.

"You're not comfortable, are you?"

And maybe it would not work. Remus' head snapped up.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not comfortable. With me being here, I mean. I've known you long enough to realize that, Remus."

Remus shook his head and began to chop the onions quite violently.

"I really don't know what you're talking about, Sirius."

The other man took the chair on the opposite side of the table and straddled it, bracing his elbows on the lean. For a while he said nothing and just watched Remus violate the lunch ingredients. After a couple of minutes, Remus' head snapped up again.

"Was there something you wanted, Sirius?"

"Why do you maltreat the food, Remus?"

Remus put the knife down and let himself fall into the chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index- and middle-finger. Everybody who knew Remus a little better knew this to be a gesture of either utter confusion or complete exasperation.

"Listen Sirius, it's been two very exhausting days. I'm not used to having people around me, neither teenagers who have been to hell and back during the past month, nor escaped convicts with whom I have a past about which I have not dared to think for more than twelve years. I'm still adjusting, and so are you and Harry. But you've only been here for half a day, I'd say it's way too early to say that I'm not comfortable with you around.

And now, if you don't mind, either grab yourself a knife and cut those peppers over there, or leave me alone to prepare lunch."

If Remus had hoped that Sirius would take his hint to leave him alone for a while, he was disappointed quite quickly. Though Sirius had never really felt at home in a kitchen, he went over towards the counter and started to wash the green and red peppers.

"How do you want them?"

Remus looked up from his onions and seemed to give that question a long thought.

"Square pieces, they're for stew."

Sirius nodded and silently started to cut the peppers while Remus rummaged around in the fridge. They spent the rest of meal preparation in near-silence, only speaking when Remus told Sirius which ingredients to prepare and what to hand him over.

After half an hour of cooking, the stew was nearly finished and while Remus started to set the table, Sirius went upstairs to fetch Harry.

His godson wasn't in the spare bedroom, and after a short moment of surprise about this, Sirius had an idea and climbed the small and steep ladder that went up into the attic. There, on the windowsill sat Harry, stroking the white owl that was sitting in front of him. He looked up when he heard Sirius enter and smiled at him.

"Hedwig came flying through my window a couple of minutes ago. I don't have her cage with me, I left it at Privet Drive, and I thought she would like it better up here with Remus' owls. Do you think that would be okay with him?"

Sirius nodded.

"I don't know why not."

He looked up to the beam where Remus' two owls sat. One was an old barn owl which Remus had received from his father during their fifth year at Hogwarts. The owl was named Rasputin and by now so old that he could only deliver short-distance letters. The other owl was quite a bit younger, Remus must have bought it more recently, maybe two or three years ago. The two owls watched the snow-white newcomer with obvious interest, but not hostility. They seemed to be well-mannered animals, surely the addition of Hedwig would not be a problem for any of them.

Sirius sat down on the edge of the windowsill and stretched out his hand to stroke Hedwig.

"If I hadn't already known it, I'd now be convinced that you have a really intelligent owl there, Harry. Not every owl would have found its way to Remus' without ever having been here."

Harry smiled and nodded.

"Yes, I know. She's never failed to deliver a letter, no matter where she had to go."

He grinned at his godfather.

"She even always found you, no matter where you were hiding."

"Yes, and believe me, nobody was more surprised than me when she suddenly turned up while I was hiding in the South. And Buckbeak didn't particularly care for owls."

Harry suddenly remembered the Hippogriff with which Sirius had been in hiding for the past two years. He had not seen Buckbeak since his last visit at the cave Sirius had hid in during the past school year.

"What happened to Buckbeak?"

Sirius quickly pulled his hand back when Hedwig started to peck him. She obviously had enough of being petted for today, and with a last glance at Harry she spread her wings and flew up onto the beam where Remus' owls sat. Sirius shrugged and turned his attention back to Harry.

"I set him free in southern Scotland before I went to alert Mundungus Fletcher. It was easier for me to travel those last distances without a Hippogriff, the danger of being seen with him was just too big. He's better off on his own, and I guess he'll return to Hagrid's in no time."

Sirius laughed.

"He really seemed to like Hagrid."

Harry smiled at this remark.

"Well, Hagrid also seemed to like him, a lot. He was completely devastated when he received the news that Buckbeak was to be executed."

Sirius pulled his left knee up to his chest and circled it with his arms.

"Hagrid loves all animals, especially when they're potentially dangerous. He's always been like this, already back when we've been at school. He was always trying to talk Professor Kettleburn into covering more dangerous animals during lessons. The more dangerous, the better."

Harry laughed out loud.

"You can't even begin to imagine what it's like now that he's a professor. I think if Dumbledore let him have his will, we'd solely deal with dragons from now on. Hagrid really has it for dragons. During my first year, he even hatched a dragon egg."

Sirius frowned.

"Last time I heard, dragon breeding was illegal in Britain."

"It still is."

Shaking his head, Sirius rose from the windowsill.

"Why don't you tell us the entire story during lunch? Remus actually sent me up to tell you it's ready, he must be waiting for us."

Harry nodded and followed suit.

Sirius had been right about Remus. When the two of them came down, the table in the kitchen was already set and Remus was just about to carry the pot with stew over towards the table.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

Remus looked around the kitchen, then nodded.

"Yes Harry, you could bring over the bread. Thank you."

Harry fetched the basket with bread from the counter and placed it next to the stew. When they sat down at the table, Harry noticed that Sirius and Remus were both looking quite strained. He didn't pay really much attention to it, but as they sat down and started to eat, he could literally feel the tension settling between them.

Confused, Harry frowned his brow. As far as he knew, Sirius and Remus were close friends, and even though they had not seen each other for a really long time now, Harry wasn't aware of any reason why the situation between them should be strained at all. It couldn't be because of Sirius' little accident this afternoon, that had not really been his godfather's fault. Harry should have told him how to handle the Firebolt, then this would not have happened.

Harry tasted the stew and decided that he could get really used to Remus' cooking. If everything he made was this good, he'd maybe even gain some pounds during summer. And maybe the long-awaited growth spurt would finally come, as well.

When Harry was half-through with his plate, he had enough of the silence hanging over the table. He grabbed a piece of bread and dipped it in his stew.

"Erm, Remus?"

The other man looked up from his plate and smiled.

"Yes?"

"Hedwig arrived while I was upstairs. And because her cage is still at Privet Drive, I brought her up into the attic, if that's okay with you."

Remus nodded.

"Sure. I don't think she'd have liked staying in the cage anyway."

"Thanks."

"Harry, there really is no need for you to thank me for everything. This is supposed to be your home for the rest of the summer, so if you need something, just ask."

Harry nodded and smiled at Remus. He nearly said 'thank you' again, but quickly thought better of it. Sirius chose this moment to involve himself in the conversation.

"Speaking of the attic, you still owe us this story about Hagrid and the dragon, kiddo."

Remus looked surprised.

"Hagrid has a dragon? Isn't that illegal?"

Harry swallowed his mouth full of stew and shook his head.

"He doesn't have a dragon. At least no longer. He had one during my first year, though. Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback"

Sirius chewed on a piece of bread and waved around dramatically with his spoon until he had swallowed it down.

"How did Hagrid come by a dragon? I mean, it's not like you find them on every corner here in Britain."

"No, he won it while gambling in a pub. A stranger 'accidentally' happened to have it with him when he met Hagrid."

Sirius frowned.

"Why do I get the feeling that there is more to the story?"

Harry shrugged.

"Because there is, I guess. It's a rather long story, actually."

"Then why don't we clean up the dishes here, make a pot of tea and go to the living room. It should be more comfortable there."

Harry and Sirius both nodded at Remus' suggestion and within ten minutes they were settled in the living room, a steaming pot of tea and a plate of biscuits on the small table in front of the sofa. Remus had settled himself in what appeared to be his favourite armchair while Harry and Sirius shared the sofa. Sirius had complained that he needed all of the sofa to rest his injured foot on it, but he had not succeeded in gaining the whole sofa for himself. Not that he really minded.

And while Remus poured out the tea, Harry began to tell them about his first year at Hogwarts. He realized that of course Sirius only knew bits and pieces of his life from before they met, and Remus also seemed to have no idea about Harry's past life at all, so he started telling everything from the morning when his first Hogwarts letter had arrived.

Harry left out some parts, though. He didn't tell them about the cupboard under the stairs, and very little about the Dursleys and his life with them in general. Sirius was already feeling bad about not having been there for Harry, and he knew that his godfather would feel even more guilty if he got to know what exactly living with the Dursleys had been like for Harry. There really was no need to burden Sirius with even more guilt complexes.

So Harry cut out as much of the Dursleys as possible, though he left in their flight from the letters and Hagrid's first appearance on Harry's eleventh birthday. Sirius seemed to find Dudley's pigtail extremely amusing, and even Remus had to hide a smile. But the two adults stopped smiling as soon as Harry started to tell everything that had happened during his first year at Hogwarts.

From time to time Sirius interrupted Harry in telling his story, mostly with remarks about Snape's greasy hair, Snape's too long nose, Snape's ugly visage, Snape's state of mind, Snape's abysmal body hygiene or just Snape in general. Remus just laughed and shook his head whenever Sirius did so, but Harry decided that he really didn't ever want to be in one room together with the two men again. Not if it could be avoided.

When Harry reached the part of his story where he described how Ron, Hermione and him had gone through the trapdoor to find the Philosopher's Stone, he had a hard time explaining to Remus why exactly they had to go alone and didn't have the time to tell somebody, *anybody* more qualified for this about what they wanted to do. It didn't get better when he told what had happened after they had passed Fluffy.

When Harry was finished with this story, two wide-eyed adults were staring at him.

Sirius was looking as if he couldn't decide between hugging Harry because he was so glad that he had survived all this, or give him a proper spanking for all the rules he had broken and all the danger he had brought himself, Ron and Hermione into. Remus had settled on merely shaking his head, and Harry suddenly thought that it might not be such a good idea to tell them about his second year at Hogwarts at all.

In the end he had to, and after Sirius had overcome his initial shock about Harry being a Parselmouth, Basilisk bites and preserved teenage images of the Dark Lord, he gave Remus a thorough scolding for never telling him about it. His former teacher, Harry learned, had heard the story during his year at school, though never in such detail.
It was well past seven when Harry finished and the three went into the kitchen to have some dinner.

They settled on the leftovers of the stew as Remus claimed to be too lazy to cook anything. Harry had offered to make dinner, but Remus had refused to let him do any housework so shortly after arriving, and for some strange unspoken agreement Sirius seemed to be banned from even getting near the stove at all. Harry decided to investigate this once the opportunity arose.

Until eleven in the evening the three settled themselves in the living room again, but this time Sirius and Remus were the ones to tell stories. After the stories Harry had told, they seemed to see the need to brighten up the mood again, so they told Harry stories of how James fell off his broom because he had wanted to show off in front of Lily during a Quidditch match, they told him how they managed to dye the Slytherins' underwear pink and of their legendary Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff food fight during their third year.

Remus didn't have the intention of leaving Peter out of their stories, but after Sirius began to growl unconsciously at the mention of their former friend's name and Harry visibly paled Remus decided that it might be better not to mention Peter for the rest of the evening.

Remus had had twelve years to learn and deal with the death of James and the absence – or, as he had thought for a long time, death – of Peter, and another one during which he had begun to cope with the thought of Peter being the traitor. And while Remus thought that he had reviewed his own past and had reached the point where he was able to distinguish between Peter his friend and Wormtail the traitor, he could not expect Sirius or Harry to feel the same.

Sirius had yet to grieve for the loss of his best friend and had to cope with Peter's treason, and while Remus believed that he would eventually manage this, he did not believe Sirius would ever get past the guilt he felt for all that had happened.

And for Harry it was surely near-impossible to imagine that Wormtail had ever been a person who had earned their trust and friendship. Harry only knew the traitor, the coward Peter Pettigrew had become.

And so for the sake of the two people who were currently occupying his living room, Remus took care to leave Peter out of the stories he told. There was a time for everything, and tonight was not the right time to talk about Peter Pettigrew and what he had done to all of them.

At half past ten Harry began to yawn discreetly, and half an hour later he was yawning repeatedly and didn't bother to hide it behind his hand anymore.

Sirius grinned at Harry.

"Time for bed, don't you think?"

Harry stifled another yawn.

"Not tired."

He knew very well that this wasn't true, but until today nobody had really cared when he went to bed, especially not the Dursleys. As long as he had gotten up early in the morning and had not disturbed their sleep during the night, they hadn't cared whether he had slept at all.

And now that finally there was somebody who cared about when he went to bed, Harry had the feeling that protesting against his bedtime was the right next move. After all, that was something he had never done, either. Truly, actually he was too old for either, bedtime and the protest against it, but Harry just felt like it.

Sirius just nodded.

"Sure, not tired. That is why you've been yawning for the past half hour as if you were about to unhinge your jaw. Come on, up to bed."

Harry scratched his head and nodded.

"Maybe you're right."

He could still refine his protesting-against-bedtime-skills tomorrow or the day after that. Suddenly, Harry looked up, as if he had just realized something.

"Where are you going to sleep?"

Sirius ran a hand over his forehead and frowned his brow.

"Well, now that you say it…erm, where do I sleep?"

Sirius turned towards Remus and now it was the former professor's turn to scratch his head. He grinned sheepishly.

"Erm…to be honest, I haven't thought about that. When Albus told me you were coming here, I thought you'd take the spare room, because I hadn't planned that Harry would be here, too."

"Sorry if I'm causing problems."

"Harry, you don't cause problems, alright? I had known that Sirius would come, I should have planned this better. Well, there's not enough room for a second bed in the spare room, and the sofa is too small for you to sleep on. I could stretch it, but that wouldn't make it more comfortable. The easiest way would be if I transfigured another bed in my room and you'd sleep there. At least for tonight, it's already late."
Remus tried to sound indifferent, he did his best to keep all treacherous emotion out of his voice, but he felt his heartbeat quicken when he looked at Sirius. No matter what he had told himself about his feelings towards Sirius and how they were merely feelings of friendship and nothing more, now that he sat here next to him he realized how much he had been lying to himself. And while it was true that the sofa was quite uncomfortable, this hadn't been the main reason why he had offered to share his room with Sirius. Truth be told, he longed to sleep in to the sound of his former lover's breathing again, and he longed to wake up early in the morning and watch Sirius' sleeping face like he had done hundreds of times back in school and the years after.

There might never be anything between himself and Sirius again other than friendship, but that didn't mean Remus couldn't relish every bit of closeness he could get.

Sirius didn't even seem to think for long about the prospect before he nodded.

"Sounds okay with me."

Remus realized that Sirius eyed him carefully and then remembered Sirius' accusation from this afternoon. The other man didn't really think that he offered him his bedroom just to prove that he was not uncomfortable around him, did he?

As much as it pained him, Remus had to admit that he didn't know Sirius well enough to judge that. Not anymore.

"How about we call it a night then?"

Remus nodded and got up while Sirius pulled Harry up from the sofa. He extinguished the fire and the lights, then went upstairs after the others. What followed was a struggle for the bathroom, rummaging for a pair of fitting pyjamas for Sirius, and a little late-night wand action. After ten minutes Sirius was provided with a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, everybody had brushed their teeth, Remus had transfigured a chair into a second bed and they had bid Harry good night. While the teenager was settling in his new room, the two adults once more checked that all the lights were extinguished and all doors and windows were locked before they went to bed themselves.

"We'll have to talk to Harry tomorrow, about what to do in case Voldemort finds out he's here. Albus said he'd send two portkeys over, just in case the house gets attacked."

Sirius looked up from where he had arranged his blankets and nodded.

"Yeah."

He shook his head.

"I really don't know why I haven't thought about that myself. It's about Harry's security, I should have thought about it."

Remus smiled.

"You've only just arrived today, Sirius. Don't lose your head over it, it's not too late to start thinking about Harry's security. But not tonight anymore, let's just go to bed."

Sirius nodded.

"You're right. Good night, Remus."

He crawled under his blankets and started to beat and squeeze his pillow into the right shape, something he had already used to do at the age of eleven. Remus watched him carry out this old habit with a fond smile on his face, then extinguished the light.

"Good night, Sirius."

"Night Remus. Thanks for letting me stay."

Remus rolled around and stared into Sirius' direction in the darkness.

"From now on the rule about not needing to thank me for everything also applies to you. I'm glad you both are here."

He sensed more than saw Sirius nod in the other bed.

"Night."

"Good night, Remus."

Even though Sirius had not slept in a real bed for many years, not counting the few exceptions on his way to Remus', he didn't need much time to adjust. It took him mere minutes before exhaustion finally took over and he was fast asleep.

Remus stayed awake for a while longer, listening to the regular sounds of breathing that came from the bed on the other side of the room. The sound of Sirius' breathing had always had had a comforting effect on him, and tonight he fell asleep to the sound of it for the first time in over fourteen years.

It took Sirius a couple of moments to realize where he was and what was happening. He had been asleep, but something had woken him up.

Being on the run from the Ministry of Magic took its effects on a person, especially on their sleeping patterns. Though Sirius didn't really know why he had woken up, he immediately sat bolt upright in bed and tried to figure out where he was.

"Sirius?"
Sirius knew that voice. He dug deep into his memory, and it only took him a short moment to identify it as Remus'.

Remus?

Then he knew. Remus. Of course. He had arrived here yesterday, on Dumbledore's orders. Harry was here, too.

"Remus? What's wrong?"

Remus lit up his wand and in the dim light, Sirius could see his old friend crouching next to his newly transfigured bed, a slight frown on his face. One of his hands was resting on Sirius' shoulder, obviously from when he had tried to shake him awake.

"Harry is thrashing around in his bed again. I thought he might be more comfortable if you went and looked."

Sirius immediately swung his legs out of bed and rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his eyes.

"Thanks, Remus."

Remus nodded and watched him leave the room. Though Sirius could not hear anything of his godson's discomfort, he trusted Remus' hearing. As he approached his godson's room, he too could hear Harry thrash around in his bed and mutter in his sleep, caught in whatever nightmare it was that was plaguing him this night. Carefully, Sirius opened up the door.

"Harry?"

No answer. Not that Sirius had really expected one, but he had the feeling that at least he should try. Now that he was standing here in the doorway of Harry's room, watching his nearly fifteen year old godson struggle against his nightmare, Sirius suddenly realized that he knew next to nothing about how to deal with teenagers. Especially not with teenagers who had a severe trauma because they had witnessed the resurrection of the Dark Lord and the murder of a fellow student. Sirius was pretty sure that there were advisory books on parenting for nearly everything, but somehow he doubted that Harry's problems would be covered anywhere.

Carefully, Sirius approached Harry's bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"Harry? Come on kiddo, wake up."

Harry still didn't react, he merely continued kicking out with his legs, throwing himself from his left to the right and back again, all the while holding his hands out in front of him as if to ward off an attacker.

"Harry? Harry, it's just a nightmare. Wake up."
Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gently shook him. When Harry didn't immediately react, he shook the shoulder a little more forceful.

In the darkness, Sirius could see Harry's eyes being ripped open, frantically searching the room for anything he recognized.

"Harry?"
Upon hearing the voice, Harry's emerald eyes turned on Sirius and in a movement born out of shock the teenager immediately sat up and tried to get away from him as fast and far as possible.

"Harry, it's just me. Sirius. Are you alright?"
It took a moment, but slowly recognition showed in Harry's eyes. When it finally seemed that he remembered where exactly he was and what must have just happened, he let his head sink and stared down at his blanket, his thumbs nervously fidgeting with its edge. Sirius didn't remove his hand from Harry's shoulder.

"Harry, are you alright?"

Harry shrugged.

"Just a nightmare. Sorry that I woke you."

Sirius shook his head.

"You didn't wake me, Remus did. I might have become a light sleeper, but my hearing will never be as good as his."
"Then I did wake Remus again."

"Oh, Remus doesn't mind being woken. Nobody would, not after seven years in one dormitory with your father and me. I guess he got used to it."

Sirius watched Harry carefully, searching for any indication of how to go on from here. Harry was awake, and he seemed to be fine or at least pretended to be fine. Sirius knew that a nightmare was no serious problem as such, but somehow he could not get rid of the feeling that this was neither the first nor the last one Harry had had and would have, and this made nightmares a serious problem.

On the other hand Sirius had absolutely no idea what Harry needed. How could he show the kid that he was there for him without setting off all anti-fussing alarms every fifteen year old had?

Sirius knew that he would have felt fussed over if his dad had insisted on staying with him after a nightmare at the age of fifteen, but that was exactly what he wanted to do right now. Leaving Harry alone with whatever was plaguing him just didn't seem to be right, not at all. The kid had already too much to bear for himself.

"Do you want to talk about it?"
Harry looked up, seemingly confused for a moment.

"About what?"
"The nightmare."

Running a hand over his face, Harry shook his head.

"No, no it's not important. Really. Go back to bed, I'm fine."
Sirius didn't believe a word Harry said, but he didn't know what else he could do, either.

"Sure?"

Harry sighed.

"Sure."

That much for talking about it. Harry obviously didn't want to. Well, as much as he might have wanted, there was nothing Sirius could do about that. At least nothing he could think of at the moment.

He ruffled a hand through Harry's sleep tousled hair and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm just across the hall if you need something, alright?"

He held Harry at arm's length and gave him what he hoped was a serious look. Not that Harry could have seen that in the darkness, but it made Sirius feel a little better.

"And it's really no big deal to wake me up if you need something. Not at all. Got that?"

Harry nodded, but avoided looking into Sirius' eyes. Well, Sirius couldn't help his godson there, nearly fifteen years old or not, that hug had been necessary. If the kid didn't want to talk, he got hugged. Period.

Sirius thought his was a good strategy. Or at least one that seemed to work, for now.

Ruffling Harry's hair once more Sirius got up from the bed and made his way over towards the door.

"Good night, Harry."

"Night."

Sirius left the room and closed the door behind himself, then leaned his back against the wood and rubbed his eyes. This wasn't boding well, not at all. Nightmares.

Usually, a nightmare wouldn't have upset Sirius very much, he had his own share of not so pretty Azkaban memories that came haunting him at night on a regular basis, but in Harry's case it bothered him. Remus had said Harry had had a nightmare the night before as well. Sirius only hoped this wasn't an every-night occurrence for his godson, but somehow he couldn't get rid of the thought that it was. And he already had a good idea what they were about.

Well, a couple of good ideas, to be precise, but he could imagine that the night of the third task was still fresh enough in Harry's mind to exceed all other nightmare-material Harry might have. And if he was bluntly honest with himself, Sirius had absolutely no idea how he could help Harry with what he was going through.

Slowly, Sirius started to make his way back to Remus' room again, walking silently as not to wake his old friend. Not that he had any doubts about Remus being wide awake, anyway. His excellent hearing sense could come in very handy on occasion. Without having to think very hard Sirius could name at least five occasions from their time at school when it had saved them from running into Filch or a teacher. But when nightly sleep was concerned Remus' hearing could be more than just a burden. For a couple of years Sirius had wondered how Remus had managed to get decent sleep at all with the dorm mates he, James and Peter had been, until he had found out about Remus' carefully developed system of silencing charms around his bed. A system they had later put to good use, even if somewhat different than originally intended.

But that was nothing Sirius wanted to think back to. Not now, not anytime soon. Right now, all Sirius wanted was return to his bed and sleep through the night until Remus would see fit to wake him up. Which would be at an unholy hour, something like eleven at latest, Sirius guessed.

He opened the door to Remus' room and found his suspicions immediately confirmed. Remus was half lying, half sitting in his bed and looked up at his entrance.
"How is Harry?"

Sirius shrugged.

"Had a nightmare, but he wasn't very talkative about it."
He sat down heavily on his bed and stared into the darkness for a couple of moments.

"Do you think he has them every night?"
"I wouldn't be surprised, not after what he's been through."

Remus' statement was followed by a stretch of silence during which both men thought back once more on what exactly Harry had been through. Sirius unconsciously growled lowly and Remus had his hands balled to fists. After a while, he spoke again.

"I'd watch it for another couple of nights. It's not as if he'd be able to hide his nightmares from us. You should try and talk to him about what happened, maybe that'll help."

Sirius shrugged.
"I imagine he's not pretty keen on talking about it. I know I wouldn't be, if I were him."
"Be that as it may, but what Harry's been through won't go away on his own, especially not if he pretends that it has never happened."

Sirius yawned and ran a hand across his face.

"Let's think about this tomorrow. I don't believe that we'll solve the problem tonight. Good night, Remus."
"Night."

They lay back down in their beds, but this time it took the better part of an hour before the slow and regular breathing from the direction of Sirius' bed told Remus that he had finally fallen asleep. With his last waking thought Remus wondered why he had waited for Sirius to fall asleep before he even considered doing the same. But before he found an answer to that question, his eyes had dropped closed and he was peacefully asleep himself.