Author's note: What is it with these one-shots all of a sudden? I keep on wanting to write more of them. I'm suspecting it's because I'm getting desperate to role-play HP and I have no one to do it with over AIM (basically, I want to roleplay in real time and don't know anyone who's active enough online). I'll also go for ICQ. And AU is fine by me. =D The eviler the role-play, the better. Please see my profile for further info!

Oh, and, before I forget, I should comment about this story. It is set in OotP after Harry arrives at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place during the summer. Some may argue that Harry didn't fall asleep that first night, but he did—his dreams were just strange. =P So there. And, yes, there was a window in the room, too.

Er, I'm not too sure about the ending now, but it'll have to wait until after exams before I look at it again.

Bedside Chat at Grimmauld

Sirius Black's ear was pressed against the door of his mother's room, listening silently for any noise beyond the door. Satisfied when he failed to detect even the slightest creaking of a floorboard, Sirius cautiously opened the door and stepped outside after glancing to the sleeping Buckbeak. There was something he had to do and it would be left unfinished if Mrs. Weasley caught him. Although he was unafraid of the woman, it was better and safer if she knew nothing about his prowling tonight. Well, not prowling, exactly—he only had one destination in mind, the room where his godson currently slept. Or was hopefully sleeping—it would be even worse if Harry caught him in the act—how would he explain himself and his actions tonight?

Except that he needed to know; Sirius needed to know that his godson was all right. Of course he already knew that Harry was more or less all right in the physical sense, but the emotional… The Triwizard Tournament, Cedric's death, Voldemort, and the dementors—too much had happened in the last couple of months for him to simply assume that Harry could deal with it on his own. At the least, the boy had to be having nightmares. No, there was no doubt about it—Harry was having nightmares. The question that remained was how bad were they?

After Harry's arrival earlier, there had been no chance for Sirius to corner his godson in someplace discrete and alone. In fact, the only time they had ever been alone was last year, shortly before the First Task. Sirius remembered that time fondly—Harry had opened up completely to him for the first time. He remembered being startled when the boy began telling him everything on his mind, but in a very pleasant sense. Perhaps if Sirius could get another chance to talk to Harry alone, maybe the boy would open up to him again. Sirius was worried what would happen if that chance never arrived.

He forced down a flittering gasp of panic, nearly overwhelmed with worry at that thought; even after a year on the run—now almost two—his emotions still came in jumps and waves. Still, it was better than the twelve years full of despair in—no, Harry needed him now. He shook his head much like a dog and forced those thoughts to the back of his mind. They could wait until later, although he preferred not to think about them at all.

Sirius found himself standing in front of Harry's and Ron's door a few minutes later. Again, he listened for noise, especially those that hinted of nightmares, knowing enough about them himself after—he forced his thoughts to a halt again, reminding himself firmly that having flashbacks would do nothing to help his godson. Harry was the one in need, not him—Harry always came first and would always come first. Sirius reached for the door handle and jumped when he felt a hand gently grip his shoulder from behind.

"Sirius?"

He whirled around, pulling out his wand in the process, and found himself staring into the face of Remus Lupin. Sirius frowned, lowering his wand and stashing it back in his robes. "Bloody hell, Moony, are you trying to give me a heart attack? Because if you were, I think you just did."

Remus's eyes only twinkled in response as Sirius let out a stream of quiet curses. "Checking up on Harry?" Sirius nodded. "Mind if I join you? I haven't seen him in over a year." Sirius shook his head and quietly opened the door so the two of them could slip inside.

He shut the door after Remus stepped inside the room, looking around the moonlit room. Sirius spotted Harry's outline—it was a great deal shorter than Ron's—and watched the boy breathe deeply in his sleep. Harry seemed peacefully asleep, although Sirius suspected it was related to the fact that Harry was simply exhausted after his trip to Grimmauld Place. Convinced that Harry was asleep and knowing nothing less than a Dungbomb set off in his ear would wake up Ron, Sirius crossed over to Harry's bed, Remus following closely behind him.

Sirius hesitated, watching Harry sleep, and glanced back at Remus, soliciting a gentle smile from the werewolf. "Go on, Padfoot, I doubt he'll even notice. Tonight's events obviously left him exhausted, even if he tried to hide that from us."

The Animagus slowly sank onto the bed and smiled when Harry rolled over in his sleep to face him. "Look, Moony—he knows I'm here, even in his sleep."

"Of course he does." Sirius felt the bed shift lower behind him, but kept his eyes on Harry's face, which was slowly becoming less and less serene. "He has been looking to you for comfort ever since that incident with his scar last summer—the one you told me about, remember?"

Sirius nodded and then frowned as he saw Harry wince. He instinctively reached out a hand to smooth down Harry's hair before he could stop himself. However, the movement produced the intended result and Harry's face relaxed a little. Sirius repeated the motion until Harry had relaxed again. He smiled at the boy's sleeping form, although his hand froze when he heard a chuckle from behind him.

"Er…" Sirius felt his cheeks go red, although he pointedly looked away from Lupin to prevent his childhood friend from commenting on it.

"I don't think he minds." Remus tried to keep the laughter out of his voice and failed. "I doubt he's had much of a chance to experience this sort of a thing, anyways." The laughter fell out of the werewolf's voice and Black's eyes hardened.

"You know that isn't my fault." Sirius growled softly. "I would have taken care of him."

He felt Lupin's hand gently grip his shoulder once more. "I know it isn't, Padfoot. It's those relatives of his—they care little for him, from what Harry told me after I wrote the letter addressed to his relatives. Dumbledore says he has to stay there because of—"

Sirius snorted derisively. "I don't care what Dumbledore said. Didn't protect him from the dementors, did it? Harry had to fight them off himself!" His voice grew louder with every word.

Lupin shushed Sirius, noticing Harry stir softly in response to the increase in noise, although Ron remained as motionless as a sack of bricks under ten feet of snow. "Stop that—you'll wake him up!"

Sirius fell silent, quietly fuming, although he continued in a more restrained voice a few moments later. "Why does Dumbledore want to keep Harry in the dark? Not knowing about all this is just going to put him in more danger. What if it gets someone killed?"

"We have to trust Dumbledore on this one," Lupin sighed; obviously they had debated this subject many times before. "Dumbledore will tell him when he thinks Harry's ready."

"Harry's ready now." Sirius snarled quickly, and he continued when Remus failed to reply. "Harry should—needs to—know. I don't want to lose him. It's the only way he's going to stop blaming himself for Diggory's death."

"He's blaming himself?" Remus sounded surprised and Sirius let out a quiet, dry laugh.

"Probably—bet he blames himself for everything," Sirius sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Why else didn't he tell anyone about how the Dursley's treat him? He probably thought he deserved it."

"Don't say that!" Lupin's voice was scolding and harsh. "None of that was his fault and he knows it!"

Sirius frowned darkly and then glanced back at Remus, "Did Molly ever tell you about Harry's first Christmas at Hogwarts?" Remus hesitated, slowly letting go of Sirius's shoulder, before shaking his head. "Ron told her that Harry wasn't expecting any presents. She also mentioned how he never got anything for his birthday, either. That was the first Christmas he actually got something more than a sock or a coat hanger."

Remus paled, horrified; Sirius was sure Remus felt as if his heart had plummeted into his stomach. "Sirius, t-there's no way… I had no idea, he never told me!"

Sirius stared at him, surprised. "You couldn't tell?"

Lupin went quiet for a moment, obviously thinking. He frowned and replied slowly, "His clothes… were a bit big on him—his muggle clothes, anyways." Remus shook his head again as Sirius scoffed. "No, they were huge on him. And they were faded and torn. Hand-me-downs, and bad ones at that." His face fell even more. "His Aunt and Uncle are hardly poor. They could have afforded new ones for him."

Sirius hissed angrily, realizing it was even worse than he first suspected. "And if we know that much about how they've treated him and knowing Harry, that's only half of what they've done to him."

Remus, instead of replying, buried his face in his hands. "Why has he never told us any of this? Why hasn't he told you any of this—Merlin's beard, you're his godfather!" He looked up at the Animagus desperately. "Has he told you anything about how he's treated?"

"No." Sirius's lips went thin and he was torn between being angry or worried. "And I don't know why. He knows I'm there for him."

"He's probably afraid you'll do something stupid," Lupin reasoned after a minute.

Sirius smiled grimly. "Like hexing the lot of them to death?"

"Yes." Remus sighed and shook his head, although he smiled weakly. "You would."

Silence descended between the two of them, and Sirius turned away, looking back to Harry. He let out an angry sigh, feeling useless again, and reached over to start rubbing Harry's back. While Harry was in Grimmauld Place, Sirius could at least be there for him. He relaxed as he felt tense muscles go limp under his hand, so he finally broke the silence.

"Harry's the world to me, Moony." Sirius felt Remus jump slightly, as if his voice had taken the werewolf by surprise. "He needs me, and I need him more than he'll ever realize."

"Sirius…" Remus began to speak, but then trailed off, as if he had no idea what to say.

He sighed. "I don't care why Dumbledore stuck Harry with his relatives and I won't ever forgive him for it." Sirius frowned deeply. "Harry didn't deserve any of this. I should have been there for him!"

He felt Lupin's hand on his shoulder again. Sirius forced himself to take a few deep breaths before he ran the risk of waking up Harry again. After a minute or two, he looked over his shoulder at Remus, smiling weakly. "James would have laughed if you had told him I'd care this much."

Remus returned the smile. "And he would have had your arse if you didn't."

Sirius grinned wider. "Yeah, stupid git; he never could make up his mind how much responsibility the godfather of his kid should have."

"I think he was more concerned about the 'privileges' the godfather position curtailed." Remus replied with an amused smile.

"He was afraid I was going to spoil Harry rotten," Sirius laughed quietly, glancing out the dirty window although his eyes saw elsewhere. "And that's what I intended to do." He thought for a moment, then grinned widely as Harry finally curled up into a ball next to him. "I still intend to do that. I'm going to spoil that kid rotten as hell."

"Just… take it slow, Padfoot," Remus shook his head with a laughing sigh. "I don't think he'll ever know what hit him otherwise."

"Mmm, guess so." the Animagus replied, intently watching his godson curl up closer to him as the boy smiled in his sleep. He spoke again a moment later, his voice deadly serious. "I suppose the beer and naked women will have to wait until next summer."

Remus resisted bursting into laughter, for he had just imagined the look of mixed anger and horror Lily would have given Sirius and then James after he agreed it was in Harry's best interests. The laughter died quickly when he realized something, and he began to pale. He only hoped that Sirius was kidding.

If Sirius was not, then being caught by the Ministry or a band of Death Eaters was the least of his worries. Molly would strangle Sirius to death a thousand times over. With a shoestring.

Fin