The Feeling of Home
Chapter 34
Tuesday, November 5
Harry had Side-Along Apparated with Tonks to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and had found themselves in the midst of a handful of Order members – Bill Weasley, Mad-Eye Moody, Dedalus Diggle and for some reason, Alicia Spinnet and Oliver Wood.
They had been enthusiastically welcomed and Harry came to know that they were part of the Order.
"Our entire Quidditch team is in the Order, save for you and Katie," explained Oliver, beaming as he shook Harry's hand.
Alicia, however, looked sad. "How is Katie? I heard she had been cursed!"
"She's still in St. Mungo's," said Harry. "It's been a headache trying to find a replacement for her."
They spent the next few minutes discussing Harry's woes in regards to his Quidditch team and their first win of the season.
Kreacher had been serving breakfast, looking like it took a great deal of control to stop the insults from slipping out of him. Harry knew that Sirius and Kreacher had struck a deal of sorts, thanks to Remus. Sirius would be civil (or at least, try to be) and Kreacher would stop insulting the people who passed through the doors of the house of Black and actually take on the duties of a house-elf. It seemed to be working as Harry didn't hear a single comment, veiled or otherwise, escape from the house-elf.
After breakfast, Harry went up to the room he had shared with Ron to find his belongings already there.
"Professor Dumbledore sends his regards," came the lazy drawl from the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.
Harry looked at the wizard in the portrait, who stared back looking bored. "Has he come back to Hogwarts then?"
"I'm afraid that doesn't concern you," he said coolly, leaning against the frame.
"So, he is back," snapped Harry. "Thanks for answering my question."
Before the wizard in the portrait could mutter more than, "Insolent dolt," Harry quickly pulled out his muggle clothes and dashed to the bathroom for a shower.
oOo
Well-fed and dressed, Harry was taken back to St. Mungo's by Bill Weasley as Tonks had left to get some sleep.
Bill was surprised that Harry was unfazed by Side-Along Apparition and was talking to him amiably as they went up to the first floor of St. Mungo's. When they reached the end of the corridor, both Bill and Harry froze in their tracks.
Standing just outside the door to Sirius' private ward was none other than Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister for Magic, along with a couple of Aurors.
Bill gripped Harry's shoulder as he led them both forward and said in a clipped voice, "Good morning, Minister."
Scrimgeour glanced once at Bill, before fixing his eyes on Harry. "Good morning, gentlemen. May I request a private word with Mr. Potter here?"
Bill's hand on Harry's shoulder, tightened. "I hardly think—"
"It's fine," said Harry. Bill looked worriedly at Harry, then glanced at the closed door to Sirius' ward. Harry knew he was thinking of asking Sirius, but Harry assured him, "Really, It's okay."
Bill nodded and let go of Harry who found himself ushered to the nearby Private Ward 109. It looked like a replica of Sirius' ward, save for its empty bed. Scrimgeour shut the door behind him and turned to look at Harry, who looked back with polite indifference.
He knew what Scrimgeour wanted from him but it didn't mean he had to like it. Harry hoped he would keep his temper in check. No matter Harry's differences with him, he was the Minister of Magic after all.
oOo
It was late afternoon and Harry and Sirius were joined by Tonks who had brought a pack of Exploding Snap along with a basket of chocolates and sweets.
"From mum," she said, as Sirius enthusiastically pulled out the Chocolate Frogs, "she sends her regards. The Order didn't want too many new faces visiting you as you're being watched, so she couldn't come."
"Remind me to thank Andy later," said Sirius, biting off the chocolate frog in half.
Harry helped himself to the pumpkin pasties and Tonks set up the Exploding Snap to pass their time.
"I heard the Minister for Magic was here," said Tonks, looking at Harry.
"How did you know?" asked Harry, dealing the cards.
"The Aurors outside told me," said Tonks nonchalantly, pulling out a card from the deck.
Sirius growled in anger. He was still furious when he heard the Minister had whisked Harry off right under his nose. "That git doesn't seem to know to lay off when he's been told. What was he expecting anyway? For Harry to stand up and give speeches about the amazing work the Ministry has been doing, which is absolutely nothing?"
"Is that what he wanted? I never thought of Scrimgeour needing – Whoa!" she yelled as the card she had been holding exploded with a small puff of smoke.
"That was a Hungarian Horntail card too!" said Harry, snickering. Sirius was laughing as bits of burning paper floated to the ground, before re-forming into the card again.
The door opened and Healer Peyton bustled in, clipboard in hand. "What was that noise?" she asked looking around.
Sirius was still grinning. "Nothing worrying, I assure you."
Healer Peyton however spotted the Exploding Snap cards, and looked at Harry with a resigned expression. "Do try to use a muffling charm next time, won't you?"
Harry was relieved she didn't ban them from the ward and smiled sheepishly, "Yes, ma'am."
Tonks was gathering the cards. "But Harry's not allowed to do magic outside Hogwarts."
Like that would stop him, thought Harry, glancing at Tonks and returning her smirk.
Healer Peyton looked confused. "You're still underage? The Daily Prophet never mentioned that."
Harry nearly rolled his eyes.
"Will you look at that Harry?" quipped Sirius, sarcastically. "The Daily Prophet conveniently forgot that their 'Chosen-One' is still underage."
"S'not the only thing that the Prophet's made up about me," mumbled Harry.
Healer Peyton, however, looked thoroughly abashed. "That was tactless of me. I—I apologise, Mr. Potter."
"That's okay," said Harry. "If every apology I'm owed was a galleon, I'd be richer than the Malfoys."
Tonks and Sirius sniggered and Peyton too, let out a hesitant chuckle.
"I must ask you both to leave now," said Peyton, kindly. "It's time to change your bandages, Mr. Black."
Sirius groaned and Tonks stood up. "Come on, Harry. We'll go get some tea."
"Get a cup for me too, will you?" asked Sirius and immediately Peyton snapped to her no-nonsense Healer voice, "No drinking tea or coffee, Mr. Black. I've told you it will hinder the potions you are taking from being effective."
Sirius huffed, "Fine. Get some butterbeer then, won't you Tonks?"
Peyton's voice was rising, "No alcohol either!"
"Butterbeer isn't alcoholic," said Sirius haughtily but under Peyton's glare conceded, "…much." He rubbed his eyes in exasperation, "Merlin, what is it that I can drink?"
"Water," said Peyton simply as Harry and Tonks left the room, laughing.
oOo
Thursday, November 7
Rain was battering furiously against the window panes, the stormy grey clouds almost a permanent fixture ever since he had arrived to St. Mungo's.
Harry and Tonks usually left to Number 12 for the night as Sirius had strictly told Harry that he need not stay the night to keep him company. Even so, Harry stubbornly made it a point to arrive at St. Mungo's early along with Tonks, who sometimes dropped off Harry before she went to work. Sirius was warmed by Harry's presence, so he didn't complain too much. Besides, he would be leaving tomorrow and he couldn't wait to sleep in the comfort of his home rather than this ghastly excuse of a bed.
Sirius was doing the crossword in the Daily Prophet, sitting up on the bed, feeling particularly irritable that afternoon. The charmed bandages had been gone by the first day and the burning pain, mitigated somewhat by the potions he took, left him fidgety and grumpy. He dearly wished for a cigarette, but he doubted the Healer would be so indulging. And, he didn't want to be weak in front of Harry to give in to a quick smoke and he could use with some practice to help him break the habit anyway.
Harry was on the floor doing some of his homework as Sirius had suggested, since he would have to catch up on classes once he went back to school. Yeah, he was a hypocrite.
Sirius looked up from his crossword to see Harry frowning over something he was reading from his Transfiguration book as he wrote some essay. Sirius was a tad bored by the silence so he decided to rope Harry in to help him with the crossword.
"What's eight letters and flies fast?" asked Sirius out loud, quill poised over the Daily Prophet.
Harry raised an eyebrow, looking up from his book. "That's a stupid clue. Lots of things are fast fliers."
"Well, this is a difficult crossword," said Sirius, simply.
"A Snidget?" asked Harry, then shook his head, answering himself, "Nah, it's seven letters."
"Flitterby?" Sirius counted the letters in his mind. "Nope, that's nine."
"I got it. Billywig," said Harry, smugly.
Sirius filled it in and looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow. "Not bad."
"You don't have to sound so surprised," said Harry rolling his eyes and returning to his homework.
Sirius snorted and watched the rain outside, which seemed to have gotten worse. He rubbed absent-mindedly at his side to relieve some of the constant burn he felt. It didn't seem to help. The wound had started to scab over and it took a monumental effort to restrain himself from giving in to the urge to relieve the itching.
"Say Harry," said Sirius after a moment, more to distract himself. "Have you been practising the spells I taught you over the summer?"
"Sometimes," said Harry. "I don't really get much time with all the Quidditch practice and homework I've got."
"Well, you should set some time every week to practise them," said Sirius. "It would be a waste of time if you start struggling with it all over again."
"We're still on for conjuring iron next, aren't we?"
"Depends on how good you are with the transfiguration part by now," said Sirius.
Harry had an anxious and doubtful look as he pulled out his wand and did the spell non-verbally pointing at the empty wooden basket which Molly had brought in earlier. A shocked Harry realized it took about thirteen seconds for him to successfully transfigure it into iron.
"No way! I could do it under a second!"
Sirius gave him an 'I-told-you-so' expression over the newspaper. Harry frowned and he reverted the basket to its original state and pointed at it again, this time spelling it out loud, 'Ferrum Duro.'
It took longer than a second, but it was much more effective than his previous attempt.
Harry spent a good half-hour, trying to bring his time down to a second again, doing and re-doing the transfiguration non-verbally. Sirius had finished the crossword by then and leaned to put it aside at the table. His skin pulled uncomfortably; it felt like hot lava was being poured on him and he hissed involuntarily.
"Does it still hurt?" asked Harry worriedly, looking up from his practising.
"Stings a bit, but it's better than it was," lied Sirius easily, leaning back on his pillows. Harry had a troubled expression on his face that Sirius had seen sometimes in Harry in the past couple of days.
"Why did you do it?" blurted out Harry suddenly, as if the question had been on his mind for a long while.
"Do what?" asked Sirius, tilting his head to the side. He had waited for Harry to come around and say what was on his mind and was now very curious what had been tormenting him.
"Why did you take that spell when it wasn't meant for you?"
Sirius was confused. "You didn't expect me to stand by and watch a seventy-year old woman get hit with fire, did you?"
"No, I get that," said Harry, shaking his head. He stood up and walked up to Sirius' bed.
Sirius shifted slightly to make room for him near his uninjured side and Harry sat down. "But you could have cast a spell or something to protect her," continued Harry. "You didn't need to put yourself in front of her."
"I wasn't thinking straight at that time," Sirius admitted. "It happened so fast, it seems like a blur right now."
Harry was quiet before speaking again in a low voice, "Imagine what it would be like for me if you had been seriously hurt or worse?"
Sirius blinked but said nothing; he knew Harry opened up only when he was unprompted and so he waited. As if struggling to convey something very deep, Harry started speaking in a troubled voice, "Sirius, this last few months… It's literally what I wished for ever since I knew I didn't want to stay with the Dursleys. It's more than that, in fact."
Not for the first time, Sirius wondered exactly how the Dursleys had treated Harry for him to want to run away from them. Harry had always carefully avoided the topic and Sirius knew not to push. He could see himself in Harry when he got closed-off at the Dursleys' mention and that was more troubling for him. Because, he had a very good idea what that could mean, more than anyone.
Even James hadn't known the full extent of Sirius' home life at Number 12, though he probably knew more than anyone else.
Sirius was staring at Harry, who turned his face away from him as he continued uncertainly, "Sometimes, the Weasleys had me over... and I'm grateful they did, I would have gone crazy otherwise. But with you... that's my home. And if something happened to you, I couldn't… I can't imagine…"
Harry's eyes were glistening by then and Sirius was so startled that he pulled Harry into his embrace, unable to watch him without tearing up himself. Even though Harry hadn't said it out loud, Sirius understood that after all these months, Harry was still having a hard time believing it and was worried that it was all going to be taken away from him.
And Sirius knew how that must feel like. He had felt the exact same way when the Potters' had allowed him to stay, when he had run away from his house at sixteen. Sirius had been very doubtful that they had took him in only because of an obligation as he had gone straight to their home, that he had packed his bags and moved out as soon as he was of age, not wanting to overstay his welcome.
His heart clenched to think of Harry harbouring the same feeling that he had had. Mr. Potter had been his friend's father, but Sirius was Harry's godfather, which he liked to think was much more than that, dammit!
And Harry was the only family he had left too.
Harry stayed silent as he leaned onto him, and Sirius spoke slowly, measuring his words, "I want you to listen carefully to me, Harry. You are never going back to the Dursleys, because I'm always going to be here for you. Now, I might be a git sometimes and I might get hurt or it could even be the other way round, but I'm going to make sure that you've always got a home with me. Nobody is taking that away from you."
Sirius felt Harry nod against him and he wished he could stop the tear falling from his own eyes, but he didn't. Even as heartbroken as he was to have made Harry anxious, his heart was glowing with happiness to know that Harry thought of him as his home.
