A/N: Hello my lovelies! Yes, it's happening, another Drarry story at last! I've been working on this idea for months now and have always wanted to write this style of story, so it's definitely a long time coming!

The rating will slowly climb as the chapters progress, but I think for now, rating it a 'T' for some imagery and naughty language, is okay.

I will try to update this story as often as I can, however I do also need to finish off at least one other fic, so please bear with me. I have been having a lot of medical tests done lately, so you know, fanfic is just for fun but I do adore it! I won't want to tease your little heads too much!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters created by JK Rowling.

Enjoy! x

Prologue

Harry bolted upright in bed drenched in sweat.

There was a loud noise ringing in his ears.

It was only after a few moments that he realised he was screaming. Hunching over, he pressed his face into his knees and starting hyperventilating just as his bedroom door shot open. Sirius stumbled clumsily into the room, settling on the edge of the four-poster bed and wrapped his arms around his trembling godson. His skin was flushed and damp, wet breaths rasping through the dark. They didn't need to talk. This had become somewhat of a routine for them since the war ended two months ago, in May. Sirius held his godson, staring vacantly at the windows as his tired brain caught up with him.

He didn't hold it against Harry for the nightmares.

He still had them himself.

It had even gotten to the point where Harry had bought his godfather an enchanted night-light; it was designed to dim when the person fell asleep, and to turn different soothing colours based on their emotional state whilst sleeping. It had been doing the trick for the last couple of weeks. It didn't absolve everything, of course, but at least he didn't wake up as Harry did; drenched in sweat, screaming and trembling with fear.

Harry hiccoughed.

Sirius continued to rub his back, his cheek leaning on his godson's head. Harry drew in deep breaths, the warm weight of Sirius calming the frenzied mess in his head.

"Was it him again?" Sirius asked in a low voice.

Harry shuddered and shook his head. "Not this time," he choked. He drew in another deep breath. "I was in the cave again ..."

A tear dripped onto Sirius' forearm. He held the teen tighter. "You've gone through so much, Harry. I never wanted this for you but I am so proud of what you did."

"Don't ..."

"Don't what?"

"Don't be proud ... of that."

Sirius pressed his lips together and nodded. He understood. "Alright, do you think you can walk?" he asked after a few moments. Harry nodded. "Good. You're coming upstairs."

"Sirius -"

"No arguments."

Harry resigned himself to his fate as he swung his legs over the end of the bed and stiffly followed Sirius out of his room.

The floorboards creaked as they climbed the stairs to Sirius' room. Hugging his arms tightly around himself, Harry flinched at the dull gold light creating swirling patterns on the ceiling of Sirius' room. It instantly calmed the frayed nerves inside him. Sirius padded over to the covers strewn over on one side of the bed and climbed back under them. Harry closed the door and followed suit on the other side. Sirius levitated the night-light onto Harry's side of the room.

"Sirius I really don't need the light."

"It's for one night, Harry. I'll be fine."

Harry felt relief swell in his chest. Burrowing down into the soft, cool pillows he was overwhelmed by the aroma of his godfather. It was comforting. A welcomed relief especially as his bones stilled seemed to ache after all the walking, fighting and running.

Harry stiffened when Sirius turned onto his side and grabbed him around the waist, dragging him over the mattress so that he was lying with his chest against Harry's back. Tears rushed to Harry's eyes but he blinked them away. Snuggling deeper into the pillows, he watched the swirling lights gently dim before his eyes. He drifted off to sleep within moments.

.

.

The following day Harry woke up to the sounds of Sirius pottering around in their muggle kitchen. It was something that Sirius had insisted on having since Harry only knew how to cook with non-magic appliances anyway, so it made sense for them. By the time he stumbled down into the kitchen, Sirius was dishing up the eggs, toast and bacon with two large mugs of tea. Raking a hand through his hair he sat down at the rickety old table and chairs.

"What time is it?" he asked, reaching for his mug.

"Just after eleven," Sirius said. "There we are!" He set both loaded plates onto the table with a satisfied grin. Harry could almost see the tail wagging. The man was too canine-like for his own good sometimes.

"Why did you let me sleep so late?"

Sirius shot his godson a perplexed look. "Harry you had a rough night. It's summer holidays. You have nothing to do right now. Just take some time to relax."

"I have a lot to do," Harry grunted. "I have all those trials to attend, and funerals and the charity rubbish."

Sirius rolled his eyes as he skewered a rasher of bacon on the end of his fork. "No offence, kid, but those funerals and fundraisers are going to happen whether you're there or not. Sure, you defeated that snake-faced bastard, but you're not responsible for everyone else's closure. Everything is still so raw and painful -these people will understand."

Harry frowned down at his food. He picked at it, his stomach churning with nerves. It took a great deal for him to work up the energy to eat at all, but he couldn't let Sirius' breakfasts go to waste. They were the little kick he needed to function throughout the day. His hand trembled a little as he focused on chewing, swallowing and breathing. If Sirius noticed, he didn't comment. Harry was grateful for that.

He finished off his food and took his plate to the sink.

"What do you think you'll do today?" Sirius asked.

Harry froze in the doorway. "I ... I don't know. I was just going to do some reading."

"Don't you want to go and see Ron and the others at the burrow?"

He felt his shoulders stiffen. "Uh ... No, I don't really feel in the mood for it. Besides, Ron and Hermione always want to sneak off and be alone so ... "

Sirius gave an understanding smile. "That's fair enough I suppose. Do you want to come with me to visit Remus and Teddy?"

"Um ..."

"Or, would you prefer to stay home?"

Harry gave a trembling smile and inclined his head. "I'd rather stay."

Sirius sighed. "You can't hide away for ever, Harry."

"I know," Harry ground out. "Just ... for now, okay?"

For the rest of the day, whilst Sirius was out for a play-date with Remus and Teddy, Harry couldn't do anything except for going into the Black Family library on the second floor, and going through the dusty old tomes to look for anything to occupy his mind. He ended up carrying a couple of the thick books back up to his room and sprawled out on the bed, leafing through each one, reading a couple of chapters that piqued his interest before moving onto the next.

Despite himself he found his interest creeping up as he leafed through a potions textbook. It wasn't necessarily old, published in the mid twentieth century, but the sheer neglect of the house still left numerous artefacts layered in dust. As he thumbed through the copy, he came across something that caught his eye. In that moment, everything seemed to click in his head. It would help him not to deal with the horrible, crushing weight of life after the war. The emptiness of knowing that he still had to go on, to study, to get a job and become a functional member of society.

However, hadn't he done enough of that?

He'd been standing up for the entire wizarding world -alone -and he still had to do things for them? He was just one boy. Hadn't he done enough by now?

Running a hand down his face, he sighed.

He needed to talk to Sirius as soon as he got home.

Thankfully, that moment came all too soon.

Harry was in the kitchen and was heating up the oven for dinner when the man sauntered in from the living-room, the roar of the Floo Network dying away in the background. Sirius always seemed to have a glowing aura about him when he returned from seeing Remus. It was as though being around his old friend was one of two rays of sunshine in the older man's life.

"What're you reading there?" Sirius called from the hallway.

"Just an old potions book from upstairs."

"Of all things to spend a nice day like this doing, and you're reading a potions book?"

Harry didn't even smile.

Sirius sat down at the table, clasping his hands together and leaning forward. "What's this really about, Harry?"

Turning the book towards his godfather, Harry pointed at the potion he'd been looking into. "This caught my eye earlier. I've been doing some reading and it seems to revert the drinker to a younger version of themselves."

"A shrinking solution?" Sirius frowned. "Harry, you don't need to experiment with things like this."

"Why not?" Harry asked, looking up at his guardian. "This could be just what I need."

Sirius skimmed the cramped print on the old pages and felt a weight twist in his stomach. He pressed his lips together. "Harry, if this isn't brewed correctly you could be poisoned."

"Or it could give me the childhood I never had," Harry stated with a desperate plea in his voice. "I could have that with you."

Sirius rubbed at his temples, ignoring the swell of affection and anxiety in his heart. This wasn't a decision to take lightly. Not to mention, Remus would skin him alive if he found out Sirius had been a part of it. He couldn't deny that he was tempted. All he'd ever wanted was to get out of Azkaban and provide his godson with the wizarding family-life he'd always wanted. His fingers skimmed along the old, crackling page and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It wasn't impossible.

In fact, he was very adept at brewing potions. He'd be able to make this one easily enough. Just ... did he really wanted to deal with the repercussions of Harry's rash decisons?

The poor kid had suffered.

There was no denying that.

One of the healer's at St. Mungo's had insisted it was the worst case of PTSD they'd seen in someone so young. There hadn't been any medication they could offer other than therapy for Harry to attend twice a week. If nothing else, the therapy had made the nightmares worse. No amount of anger on Sirius' part had been able to make the healer's see that.

He'd pulled Harry out instantly and didn't need to be convinced that the teen wouldn't be going back.

Refocusing on the text before him, Sirius sighed and straightened up a little in his chair. His curls swayed as he rubbed at his jaw with one hand. If Harry was serious about this then he would need time to brew the potion correctly. That would at least give the teen time to change his mind if he so wished.

"If I go to Diagon Alley and buy these ingredients, bearing in mind it will take a little while to brew, will you tell me if you change your mind?" Sirius asked.

"Of course!"

Sirius still felt apprehensive, but he didn't want to discourage Harry. Not when he had that hopeful gleam in his eyes for the first time in two months. It was enough to soften Sirius' doubt, if only for a moment. "Okay," he conceded, "We'll get the things we need."

Harry's face relaxed into the easiest smile. It had been months since Harry had had such a calm demeanour. Sirius wanted to do everything in his power to keep his godson as calm and content as possible.

This potion was in his power -maybe this was something he needed to do.

~0~

Three weeks later, Harry woke up from an afternoon nap to find a phial of acid green liquid waiting for him on his bedside table along with a note from his godfather.

It glowed and fizzed a little as he tugged the cork off and winced at the sharp scent. For a brief moment he hesitated, doubt creeping into the back of his mind. A stab of the overwhelming guilt and fear from his nightmares shot through him. He downed the phial, the potion burning its way down his throat.

For a moment nothing happened.

Harry almost wondered if it was a trick Sirius was playing on him, a test of some sort. Then he felt something twisting inside him, as though he was suddenly shrinking down, the four-poster bed stretching out ahead of him. He felt nauseated and a trickle of fear dropped into his gut. He tried calling out for Sirius -but couldn't.

Briefly, everything stopped and then -

With a loud 'pop' his glasses clattered noisily to the floor.

A/N: A very twisty beginning indeed! Let me know what you think of this opening!

Also, for anyone who is interested, I have just released another eBook on Amazon that involved vampires! Just search for 'The Patient' by Victoria Hyder and if anyone fancies it, give it a read!