June 30, 1995

Remus left before Harry made it home for the evening, so Sirius had to busy himself any way he could find. Because Dobby kept their home exceptionally clean, there wasn't much tidying to do, but he had brought Harry's dress robes back with him from Grimmauld Place, so he walked them back to the boy's room. What he found was quite concerning.

Harry's room was a wreck. His bed was unmade, his floor looked as if his hamper had exploded, there were plates and cups stacked by his bed, and his desk was so littered with books and parchment that Sirius wondered how the boy had managed to get any homework done at all.

Sirius frowned at the mess. Harry was expected to keep his own room clean, and although Sirius had occasionally reminded him, the boy mostly took care of it on his own. He certainly would not have allowed Harry to go to Ron's house if he knew his room was like this, and if this was two weeks before, he probably would have gone directly to the Burrow and made the boy come home and clean it.

But this wasn't two weeks before. It was now and the circumstances were just different. Sirius had never had to reprimand Harry for his room before, and he wondered if that was the right move now. He knew from talking to Healer Williams that sometimes chaos in the mind breeds chaos in the environment, so he figured Harry's recent brush with death and the loss of Mad-Eye had his son feeling too physically drained and mentally scattered to keep it clean. He also knew that having a neat space to live in would aid in the healing process for his son, so rather than admonish Harry, he simply cleaned up the space himself. It took little more than a few waves of his wand.

When Harry came through the floo about an hour later, Sirius had nearly forgotten all about the messy room.

"Mrs. Weasley sent a treacle tart," Harry announced cheerily.

Sirius smiled and took the dish before he hugged his son. "That was very kind of her. Did you have dinner there?" he asked, knowing that there was no way Molly Weasley let his son leave without eating.

"Yeah, two servings of shepherd's pie. I'm almost completely stuffed."

Sirius smirked as he turned to walk their dessert to their kitchen. "Almost completely?"

"Yep, I have just enough room for a very large slice of that treacle tart," Harry answered cheekily, rubbing his belly as he followed his father, and Sirius took a moment to relish the smile on his son's face. It had been several days since he'd seen Harry smile like that. He didn't know how much Harry wanted to see him smile too.

"Well, we better slice into it as soon as possible then," he finally answered. He realized he might be staring at his son a little too long when Harry finally lifted an eyebrow and asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Sirius shook himself and cleared his throat. "No reason. I'm just happy to see you happy. I take it you had a good time."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, we flew a lot." He stopped to stretch his neck a minute. "I must be out of practice. I'm actually sore."

Instantly, Sirius was worried. He appraised his son carefully. Harry hadn't flown since they came home from Hogwarts, but he was in good shape, so it was rather ridiculous to think he would be sore after a single afternoon on a broom. "Sore? That seems unlikely. Did you fall and hurt yourself?"

Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes and mentally kicked himself for saying anything. He should have known Overly Protective Sirius would make an immediate appearance. Plus, he was a little offended at the accusation. "Fall off my broom? Me? How could you ask me that?" he asserted dramatically.

Sirius really did roll his eyes. "It wouldn't be the first time, remember."

"It would be the first time without dementors present," Harry retorted. "And that includes when my broom was jinxed."

Sirius shot his son a warning look. He never enjoyed rehashing his son's injuries and misadventures, and especially not less than two weeks after he had watched him die. "Alright, enough of that. Stop avoiding the question. Why do you think you're sore?"

Harry shrugged and then continued to roll his shoulders as he felt an aching in them as well. "I don't know. I didn't fall or do anything to hurt myself. My shoulders and neck just hurt." And my legs and arms and back he added in his head.

Sirius frowned. His first instinct was to give the boy a potion, but he knew Harry would fight him on that. His next thought was to make the boy an appointment with a healer, but he also knew that wouldn't go over well either. It was very unlikely that Harry was simply sore from flying; something else had to be going on. He just didn't know what. In the end, he decided to avoid an argument and did the next best thing. "Why don't you head up and have a warm bath. We'll cut into this when you get back down here."

….

It was nearly an hour later when Harry finally came down the steps to find his father waiting in their living room with two plates and the treacle tart.

"Feel better?" Sirius asked him.

Harry immediately nodded. "Yeah," he lied. The bath had helped, but in reality he actually felt worse now that he was dressed and moving around again. But he didn't need another appearance of Overly Protective Sirius so he fibbed, changed the subject, and thanked his lucky stars Sirius didn't seem to notice this time. "You cleaned my room."

"I did," Sirius acknowledged calmly. "It was kind of a wreck, kid."

Under normal circumstances, Harry would have welcomed his father's help in cleaning his room. He figured most teenagers would be grateful and let the subject go, but Harry couldn't help but feel annoyed. Why didn't Sirius make him do it? It wasn't like Sirius to just let Harry shirk his responsibilities, and once again Harry felt like he was dealing with a stranger instead of the father he'd grown used to.

But of course, Harry didn't say any of this. He simply tried to push down the annoyance and move on. "Well, thanks I guess."

Sirius himself was starting to feel a bit annoyed. Was that really all he was going to get for completely cleaning a room that was previously borderline uninhabitable, all while Harry was off having a good time. He likely would have questioned his son's attitude, but Harry's next action caught him by surprise and instantly changed his indignation to anxiety.

Harry had walked over to their armchair and pulled a blanket from the back before sitting down beside his father. Sirius frowned at the action. "Are you cold?"

Harry snuggled up closely to his father. "Yeah, aren't you?"

Sirius shook his head as he wrapped an arm around him. "No, I'm quite comfortable, actually." He noted Harry's bare feet as his son wrapped the blanket around himself. "Maybe you should wear socks."

"Maybe you should keep the house warmer than the arctic," Harry said back irritably. Maybe he hadn't quite pushed down all of his annoyance yet.

It wasn't uncommon for Harry and Sirius to playfully tease each other, but Harry's retort came out a bit more shirty than was typical. Once again, Sirius would have normally reprimanded him, but worry was the only feeling at the forefront of his mind right now. He wondered briefly if that would ever go away before asking his son, "You ok?"

Harry felt his own annoyance rise up again because he was just so tired of people asking him that question. Also, why didn't Sirius warn him about his tone, rather than just ask if he was ok? Was he always going to be so broken that people excused his behavior as long as they didn't think he was "ok." He briefly considered telling Sirius he wasn't feeling very well, if only because Overly Protective Sirius was more familiar than this one, but thought better of it. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired I guess. You going to cut into that?" he asked, gesturing towards the treacle tart.

Sirius nodded, but instead of reaching for the dessert, he pulled out his wand, waved it, and caught a sailing vial of purple potion, which he then handed to his son. "After you take this."

Harry threw his head back and groaned. "Pleeeeaaaassseeee no," he moaned.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "And they call me the dramatic one. It's Dreamless Sleep, Harry, not poison. We're both taking it. Remus is actually going to come stay tonight so if you need anything overnight, he'll be here too. Of course, you're always welcome to wake me if you want, but Remus will be available. So just take this, then we'll have dessert and get you tucked into bed for the night."

"When are you taking your potion?" Harry asked suspiciously, trying to ignore the little boy inside of him that wanted his dad, not Remus.

"As soon as Remus gets here and I get him settled," Sirius answered. He shook the vial. "Now take this."

Harry shook his head. "It's disgusting."

"Which is why we have the dessert to follow," Sirius responded, his patience waning. He felt as if Harry was constantly fighting him on everything. He didn't want to go to his mind healer appointments. Didn't want to take potions to help him sleep better. He didn't even seem to truly appreciate that Sirius had cleaned his room for him. What was going on? "Why do you make such a big deal about taking potions?" And everything else I try to do for you he mentally added.

That was a question Harry didn't really know the answer to. Most of them were disgusting, that was true, but there was also a part of him that simply hated the idea of them, hated admitting he needed them. "Because most of them are disgusting," he answered bitterly. "It's barbaric to force kids to drink down that entire vial. At least with muggle remedies, they're just a pill that you swallow."

"Barbaric? Really?" Sirius answered with a raised eyebrow. When Harry didn't respond, he sighed. "Well, tomorrow, I will go to the muggle supermarket and see if we can find some sleep remedies approved for children your age. But tonight, this is what we have. Plus, as far as I know, muggles only have sleep remedies, not nightmare remedies, and your problem isn't going to sleep, it's staying that way without waking up in a panic. So will you please take this now?"

Harry scowled. Sirius had just practically begged him to do something. Sirius never begged. He wasn't particularly stern most of the time, but if Harry refused to do what he was asking, there was never any pleading that took place. Every other teenager in the world would have probably been doing cartwheels by now, but Harry just found himself wondering what he had to do to get the old Sirius back. Knowing he was playing a very dangerous game, he shook his head again. "No. I won't take it."

Fire flashed in Sirius's eyes as they narrowed on his son, and Harry swallowed, sure he had just made a very big mistake. He braced himself for the wrath of Sirius. He only hoped that Sirius didn't make him stand up and go to the corner because despite his rigid attitude, he was actually quite comfortable and his muscles didn't want to move.

Sirius counted to ten in his head in a couple different languages. He normally would have sent his son directly to the corner to think over that defiant response, but he had already discussed Harry's unwillingness to take proper care of himself with Healer Williams. Thinking back to this, he pushed back the nagging voice that sounded like Orion Black telling him to come down hard on the boy and thought about the best way to address this.

"Ok, Harry. I can't make you take the potion if you don't want to, but I would like to ask you if taking the potion is really worse than having the horrible nightmares you've been having?"

Harry blinked a few times, so confused by Sirius's response that he couldn't quite answer. He didn't get Angry Unreasonable Sirius like he was expecting. He got Mind Healer Sirius which wasn't a Sirius he recognized at all, at least not when he'd been outright defiant.

Sirius mistook his son's silence. Thinking his son was giving serious thought to whether or not to take the potion, he held it out again. "So what do you choose? Potion or no potion?"

Still thoroughly confused and disconcerted, Harry hesitantly took the vial. "You'll give me the treacle tart after?"

Sirius nodded. "Two slices if you'd like."

Harry was starting to lose the fight inside him. He may be confused as to what was going on with his father, but he did know that he wanted a good night's sleep. Physically and mentally exhausted, he finally gave up and took the potion.

"Was that really so hard?" Sirius asked teasingly, though he immediately regretted it. He was supposed to be supportive.

Hearing that ignited a familiar spark for Harry. That was the Sirius he was used to. He gave his father a playful glare. "Complete torture from beginning to end."

Sirius barked out a laugh, unable to stop himself. "Well here, this should make up for it," he said, handing his son a slice of their dessert. "We have about twenty minutes before you're dead on your feet."

July 1, 1995

A loud bell ringing directly in his right ear startled Remus awake. It took several seconds for his heartbeat to slow down and his mind to catch up to what was happening. The bell was the monitoring alarm he'd put on Harry's room the night before alerting him that Harry was awake. He was pleased to note the sunlight peeking through the windows, meaning the boy had slept all night.

He stood and stretched for a moment before he tapped his wand to his temporary bed, transfiguring it back into their couch, and took the stairs two at a time to get to his godson. He opened Harry's bedroom door to find the teen's covers thrown back, his bed empty, and light coming from around the frame of his bathroom door. Remus was just about to sit at the boy's desk and wait for him when another noise caught his attention.

Harry was coughing.

The first couple of coughs didn't immediately cause much concern, but by the time he heard the third and fourth, he was on his feet, and Harry hadn't coughed more than five times when his godfather was tapping on the bathroom door.

"Harry? Are you ok, Cub?"

"Yeah," he heard Harry's garbled voice say. He could faintly hear water running, so he figured that Harry was brushing his teeth. A few seconds later, Harry opened the door.

"Are you ok?"

There was that blasted question again. "Morning. Yeah, I'm fine." Despite Harry's best efforts to hide it, Remus could tell his voice was slightly hoarse.

"You were coughing," Remus told him as if he wasn't aware.

Harry tried not to make eye contact. "My throat feels kind of tickly, but I'm sure once I have some juice, it'll be back to normal."

Remus frowned and took a step closer. He reached his hand up and felt the boy's forehead. Harry's skin was warm to the touch and clammy. "I think you may be running a fever. Let me take your temperature."

Harry tried to duck away. "I'm fine, Remus," he said irritably. "And I'm starving. Can we just have breakfast?"

Remus was just about to agree when he noted the way Harry walked across the room. Harry's overabundance of energy had waned in the last week, but it hadn't gone away completely, and he never moved this slowly. Clearly the boy was struggling to walk normally.

"Hold it right there," Remus stopped him. When Harry turned around in annoyance, Remus pointed at the bed. "You are clearly not feeling well. Back to bed with you. I will ask Dobby to bring your breakfast in here."

Harry's shoulders slouched as he threw Remus a desperate expression. "Please, Remus. I'm fine," he pleaded in what could only be described as a whine. He had finally gotten a full night's sleep, and he could already see the sky was clear. He wanted to fly, not spend his day in bed.

"You are most certainly not fine," Remus countered, walking over to bed and holding up the blanket. He jerked his head towards the mattress, silently commanding his godson to get back in bed.

Harry tried the puppy dog eyes that almost always worked with his godfather, but Remus clearly wasn't budging this time. Sighing in defeat, he trudged back over to the bed, careful to hide the wince walking with his sore muscles caused. "You're as bad as Sirius," he grumped.

"And you are every bit as stubborn as he is," Remus countered with a chuckle as he tucked the blankets back around Harry. It was only then that he noticed the boy was shivering. "Are you cold?"

Harry folded his arms. "A little," he admitted.

Remus nodded and cast a warming charm on Harry's bed. He called Dobby and requested Harry's breakfast before he sat down on the bed beside the pouting teenager and pulled out his wand. "May I borrow a pillow for a moment?" he asked.

Harry looked confused, but he shrugged and handed the man one of the half dozen extra throw pillows on his bed. He groaned when he saw Remus transfigure it.

"Place this under your tongue please," Remus instructed, holding out the new thermometer and ignoring the boy's protestation.

"Come on, Remus," Harry replied. "I'm not sick." That wouldn't have been a very convincing argument anyway, but the two coughs that followed it certainly didn't help his cause.

"I beg to differ," Remus answered, "So why don't you stick this under your tongue and we'll find out who's right."

Harry postured another moment, but Remus just raised an eyebrow, and Harry finally took the thermometer and obeyed. They both sat in silence until the tiny machine beeped and Harry pulled it from his mouth and handed it back.

Remus grimaced. "101."

Harry sighed. "That's not that bad, is it?" His Aunt Petunia had never actually bothered to take his temperature, and so he wasn't completely sure what a normal temperature was, but he did remember being sent home with a 103 degree fever once, so 101 didn't seem that high.

"It's not terrible," Remus admitted, "But it is a fever, and you need to rest. Now, I want you to tell me all of your symptoms so we can treat them."

Harry leaned back against his headboard. "I don't have any symptoms," he said, but another coughing fit betrayed him.

Remus gave the boy a completely flabbergasted look once Harry was looking at him again. "I really ought to make you write I will not lie to my godfather, especially because I am so bad at it a few hundred times while you're in bed," he told him. "Now try again. I know you're coughing and you said your throat was hurting."

"Tickling," Harry corrected.

"Ok, tickling," Remus continued. "You also seem to have chills, and I could tell your body was aching when you were walking. Anything else I should be aware of? Did you sleep well last night?"

Harry really wanted to argue that his body wasn't aching, but he knew Remus would know he was lying. "Yeah, I slept really well actually. Which makes waking up sick even more stupid. I should be able to go out and fly today," he whined petulantly, giving a slight shove to another pillow.

Remus offered him a kind smile, feeling bad for the boy. "You've been through a lot lately. You're more susceptible to illness when you're under a lot of stress. I wouldn't be surprised at all if this is just your body's way of slowing you down for a few days."

Harry sighed but didn't respond.

"So, any other symptoms?" Remus tried again.

Harry glared at him, but in the end he was forced to admit it. "My body is actually really achy, especially my arms and legs, and my head hurts a little."

Remus nodded and stood. "Ok, Dobby should pop in at any moment with your breakfast. I'll be right back. I'm going to look for some potions."

"No!" Harry called out, standing quickly and immediately regretting it as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He winced but stood his ground. "Please no, Remus. I hate potions."

Remus could feel his annoyance rising. "Back in that bed, young man," he ordered sternly.

Harry nearly argued, but Remus was rarely that stern with him, so he thought he might ought to obey. Mindful of his sore muscles, he tentatively crawled back into his bed, but not without pleading again. "Please Remus. I really don't need a potion."

Remus sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He put his hands on his hips and studied his stubborn godson for a moment. Finally he said, "What is your worst symptom?"

Harry scrunched up his face and thought. "The body aches. They're terrible."

Remus nodded. "I can get you one potion that treats both the fever and the body aches. Take it without fussing, and I'll let you have hot chocolate for your throat. There's a salve you can rub on your chest for your cough."

Harry pouted, but as bad as he was feeling for himself, he knew that was quite a good compromise that Sirius would probably never offer. "Fine," he agreed irritably.

As Remus exited, Dobby popped in with his breakfast. Harry picked at his eggs and winced as he ate his sausage and bacon. It was delicious, but the meat burned his throat on the way down. When Remus returned a few minutes later, he could tell the boy was struggling to eat. He sat a tray on Harry's nightstand before calling Dobby and requesting a bowl of oatmeal and a warm hot chocolate instead.

"Thanks," Harry told him quietly, feeling kind of silly over his ridiculous whining. That was until Remus picked up the vial of potion from the tray and held it out for the boy.

"Why don't you get this one over with first?"

Harry glared at the potion like it had personally offended him and didn't take it. Cutting his eyes back to Remus with a scowl, he whined again, "Do I really have to take that? I'm really not that sick."

Remus sighed. Sirius had told him how much Harry disliked taking potions, but before today he hadn't witnessed it, and Sirius did have a tendency to be a bit dramatic, so Remus never expected it to be this bad. The boy was being impossible, and although Remus did feel bad for him, he was losing what was left of his patience. "You really have to take it. You're sick, Cub. You need the potions to help you feel better. Don't you want to get better so you can go out and fly?"

Harry continued to scowl at what he saw as Remus patronizing him. Remus held the vial out for him again, but Harry crossed his arms and shook his head, causing Remus to lose the very last drop of patience he had left.

"I will give you a choice. You can either take this now, or I can wake up Sirius and have him make you take it. Which would you prefer?"

Checkmate

Harry's eyes went wide and Remus knew he had finally won this battle of will. Harry reached for the vial and drained the potion. He wasn't happy about it, but he didn't want Remus waking up Sirius either.

"Thank you," Remus told him as he took the empty vial back and placed it back on the tray. He reached for a jar and handed it to Harry. "Rub this on your chest. It'll help with the cough."

Harry obeyed, thankfully, and Remus sat with him and chatted as he drank his hot chocolate and ate his oatmeal. Harry was yawning after only ten minutes, so Remus encouraged him to get some more sleep. Harry was exhausted from the fever and groggy from the potion, so he let his godfather tuck him back in without protest. He was asleep before Remus could get out the door.

….

When Sirius had been younger, a good night's sleep would have been just what he needed to feel refreshed. Now, at 35, it just made him feel like he needed several more good nights of sleep.

As he stretched out the stiffness in his back, the clock on his nightstand caught his eye, showing him it was nearly ten. There was no way Remus was still asleep, unless they'd had a bad night. Sirius frowned at this realization. Surely if they'd had a rough night, Sirius would have heard them, right? He decided not to wait another moment to find out.

The house was mostly silent as he made his way to the kitchen, where he found Remus alone reading a book.

Remus looked up at him. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

Sirius nodded as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Very well."

"Feel better?"

Sirius twisted the kinks out of his neck and joined Remus at the table. "It feels good to get a good night's sleep, but I could use a few more. You know what I mean?"

Remus nodded. "I understand completely. I am happy to stay here again tonight if you'd like."

Sirius took another long sip of coffee before responding. "Dora won't mind?"

A smirk appeared on Remus's face. "Dora is getting to the uncomfortable stage of pregnancy. I think she'd honestly rather have the bed to herself."

Sirius chuckled knowingly, remembering how Lily had kicked James out of the bed on a few occasions leading up to Harry's birth. "Well, spend the evening with her, and I'll let you know how I feel before tonight."

Remus figured that was about the best he was going to get from Sirius. The man simply hated asking for help, but he'd be there when his friend decided he needed it.

Sirius set his coffee cup down and leaned back in his chair. "Is Harry still asleep?"

More nervously than Sirius was comfortable with, Remus cleared his throat and scratched his forehead before answering, causing Sirius's heart to speed up in anticipation. "He is now, yes, but he woke up around eight this morning with a bit of a fever. I had him eat something and then go back to sleep."

"A fever?" Sirius responded hotly, sitting back up in his chair. "He's sick?"

"Not sick-sick," Remus told him. "He was kind of achy when he woke up and had a slight headache, plus a cough. I took his temperature, and it was 101. Nothing serious. I gave him a potion and put him back in bed…"

Remus was continuing his explanation, but he could have said that Harry had decided to join the circus, and Sirius wouldn't have heard it. All his mind could focus on was the word fever. Harry had never really been sick with him. He'd had upset stomachs, a few injuries, and that blasted business with his scar hurting, but he'd never been sick-sick. He immediately stood, interrupting his friend. "I'm going to go check on him."

Remus stood and grabbed his arm. "No, don't. You might wake him. I just checked on him a few minutes ago, and he was sound asleep. Let him rest. That's what his body needs."

Sirius pulled his arm away. "I'll just peek in. I won't disturb him. I want to check his temperature again."

"I just did that, Sirius," Remus answered in annoyance because he had just said that and Sirius clearly wasn't listening. "It's back down to 99.5. He's fine. Let the boy rest."

Sirius looked like he wanted to argue further, but decided against it in favor of a different tactic. He was incredibly angry with himself. He knew last night that something was wrong with his son, and he had ignored his instincts. But instead of accept that and move on, he decided to turn his anger towards his best friend. "And why the hell did you not wake me up to tell me that?"

Remus nearly rolled his eyes as he sat back down. "You wanted me to wake you up to tell you that Harry was perfectly fine? The whole point of me being here was so that you could get some sleep."

"No," Sirius countered, "He's not perfectly fine. He's sick. He has a fever."

"Had," Remus objected. "Had a fever. And he is perfectly fine. It is completely normal for someone that's been under as much stress as he has to get sick for a couple of days. It's his body's way of forcing him to slow down."

That would have been perfectly reasonable to a person thinking reasonably, but Sirius was far from that. He was incredibly worried about his son, and, if he were being honest, a little jealous that the boy had just taken a potion and gone back to bed for Remus without a single complaint.

Of course, Harry hadn't done either of those things without complaint. He'd been every bit as stubborn with his godfather as he would have been with Sirius, but Sirius didn't know that. Remus made the whole thing sound so simple.

The truth was that Remus tended to handle issues with Harry without involving Sirius unless it was absolutely necessary, and he saw no reason to further upset the man by saying just how argumentative Harry had actually been. It was handled and over.

But every time Sirius tried to do anything for the boy lately, he was met with arguments or insistence that Harry didn't need him, and it hurt him more than he cared to admit that his son had just allowed Remus to care for him. Trying to disguise his pain, he gritted his teeth and looked back at Remus. "You still should have woken me up, Moony. Didn't we agree, just yesterday, no more secrets?"

Remus's jaw dropped open, and he stood back up in outrage. "Secrets!? Sirius this happened less than two hours ago. I didn't hide it from you. I simply let you sleep a little while longer. You seem to forget that you need rest just as much as your son does."

Sirius was no less panicked over his son's illness than he had been, but just like his son had a habit of doing, his fear seemed to come out sounding a lot like anger. "And you seem to forget that Harry is my son, not yours."

Remus drew back in shock, but it didn't take long for that shock to transform to anger. Rage flowed through his veins like fire through gasoline, and he wondered if he got angry enough, would Moony appear without his consent. There were several seconds of tense silence before he finally spoke. "How dare you?!" he snarled, deadly quiet. "I am perfectly aware of who Harry belongs to, Sirius." He took a couple of deep breaths, trying desperately not to explode. "I am trying to help you, but damn it Sirius, could you please try to remember that you are not the only person who saw him die that night?! I won't argue that it hurt you the most, but I love him too. My heart stopped when I saw that spell hit him, and every morning since I have to remind myself that he is still alive just so I can get out of bed."

Nobody spoke for several more seconds until the bell appeared again, ringing in Remus's ear. He reached up in annoyance and grabbed it out of the air before flinging it hard across the room, leaving a dent in the opposite wall. "Your son is awake," he snarled before stomping out of the kitchen. Sirius heard the floo roar just a second later.

If Sirius didn't have a son to tend to, he likely would have broken down right there in their kitchen and drowned in a pool of tears.

….

Harry wanted to stay asleep, but eventually his coughing forced him to sit up and reach for the glass of water Remus had left by his bed. After taking a few sips, he noted his pajamas were wet and stuck to him; he had sweat through them in his sleep. He briefly considered getting up and changing, but he was still too groggy to stand. It wasn't long before Sirius tapped twice on his door and let himself in.

Sirius offered him a smile. "Hey kid, how are you feeling?"

Harry rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up even more. "Ok," he said, yawning. "Did you sleep well last night?"

Sirius smiled at his son's concern for him when he was the one sick. "I slept wonderfully, thank you. Remus tells me you woke up a little under the weather."

Harry looked at his father. Sirius looked terrible. His eyes held no joy. In fact, it looked as if he might have been crying. His hair was unkempt, there were worry lines all over his face, and he looked nothing like the fun-loving, playful father Harry had grown used to and loved. Thinking he was the entire reason for the anxiety that currently plagued his father, guilt pooled in his stomach so heavy he felt as if he could vomit it up.

"Yeah," Harry answered, trying to think of the best way to calm his father. "But I feel better now. Can I go out and fly?"

If Sirius hadn't been upset about his argument with Remus, he likely would have laughed out loud. As it stood, he smiled and sat on the side of his son's bed. "You didn't really think that was going to work, did you?"

Harry's shoulders slumped. He hadn't actually expected that to work, but he still hated the idea of staying in bed, and even more so hated the idea of Sirius worrying about him.

"Let's try again," Sirius told him. "How are you feeling, really?" He reached forward and tried to feel his son's forehead, but Harry ducked away.

"I'm fine," Harry said in annoyance.

Sirius crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

Harry sighed. "My body is less achy, and my head doesn't hurt anymore," he finally admitted. "My throat still hurts a little." He stopped to cough a few times before adding, "And I'm still coughing, obviously."

Sirius nodded his understanding. "What potions did Remus give you?"

Harry shrugged. "It was blue. He said it was for the fever and body aches."

Sirius was about to transfigure another thermometer when he noticed one on Harry's nightstand. Remus had obviously left it. Another pang of guilt hit him over how he had hurt his best friend. Trying to push that thought from his mind, he reached for the thermometer and handed it to his son. "Under your tongue."

Harry took the thermometer and obeyed. As they waited for the results, he studied his father's features. Sirius looked every bit as weary as he had the night they had defeated Voldemort. Harry wanted more than anything to feel better so they could get on with life and maybe, hopefully, Sirius would stop worrying so much.

It didn't take quite as long for the beep to come this time. He pulled it out and handed it to Sirius.

Sirius managed a small smile at the results. "Still 99. That's good. The potion probably worked."

Harry perked up a bit. "Can I at least get out of bed and hang out with Remus for a while?"

Sirius busied himself pulling out clean pajamas for Harry so he could avoid his son's eyes. "Remus actually left a few minutes ago. Why don't you take a bath and clean up a bit, and then you can come down. I'll stay in here so you can call me if you need me."

….

Harry managed the bath mostly on his own, but he was thankful when Sirius was waiting for him to help him down the stairs. That was until Sirius transfigured their sofa into a bed for him, made him lie down, and began asking about every little symptom he had.

Although he had wanted Overly Protective Sirius the night before, he had forgotten just how annoying that one could be.

"Sirius, I'm fine. Will you please stop worrying," Harry pleaded, but his voice cracked hoarsely on the please, making Sirius frown again.

"Did Remus give you anything for your throat?"

Harry nodded. "Hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate?" Sirius questioned incredulously. "He didn't give you a potion for it?"

Harry shook his head and Sirius scowled. "Your godfather seems to think chocolate cures everything," he muttered irritably. He knew he shouldn't have said that in front of Harry, and his son's response had him regretting it almost immediately.

"No, he just doesn't go mental over every little thing like you do," Harry spat defensively, though he also immediately regretted his words as Sirius's stormy eyes narrowed on him. For a moment he considered faking another coughing fit in order to avoid whatever consequence was sure to follow. In his current predicament, he certainly wasn't going to tell his father that Remus didn't give him another potion because he had whined so much about the first one, but he also wasn't going to allow Remus to take all the blame.

But Sirius didn't reprimand him. After a few tense moments, he simply sighed and told Harry he was going to make some soup, but Harry's words stopped him.

"Remus didn't make it before he left?"

Sirius turned to him and shook his head. "Why do you ask?"

"He told me, right before I went back to sleep, that he'd make some for me as soon as I woke up," Harry told him. "You know how much I like his potato soup."

Sirius sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet.

"I guess he forgot," Harry said quietly.

Sirius could hear the hurt in his son's voice, and he simply couldn't allow that, even if it meant admitting he'd been a total jerk. With a sigh, he sat down beside his son. "I'm afraid Remus leaving is my fault. I guess I woke up a tad grumpy this morning, and I said some things I shouldn't have. We had a bit of a row, and he went home."

"What was the fight about?" Harry asked with a frown.

Sirius shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I should probably apologize, and I will when I get the opportunity. But I'm not going to leave you alone to do it."

Harry knew "it doesn't matter," really meant the fight was about him, otherwise Sirius would have been more forthcoming with information.

"It was about me, wasn't it?" Harry asked.

Sirius couldn't lie to his son, but he also didn't want Harry feeling guilty over his problems. He had no idea how woefully too late he was for that. "I said it doesn't matter, Harry."

Harry could feel himself growing angrier. "Did it have anything to do with him taking me to my parents' grave? Because you said you weren't angry about that, and I could tell when I came out yesterday you two had been fighting."

"No," Sirius said firmly, shaking his head and extremely anxious to end this conversation.

"You're lying," Harry said plainly.

Sirius crossed his arms and sighed. "Harry, what Remus and I argue about doesn't concern you…"

"It does when it's about me."

Sirius ground his teeth together. "Please do not interrupt me, Harry James." He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, though they had little effect. "As I was saying, Remus and I are adults and can handle our problems on our own. This isn't our first argument, and it certainly won't be our last, so please let me handle it, ok?"

Harry had his arms crossed angrily and he didn't respond for so long that Sirius eventually gave up hoping for a response and turned to walk into their kitchen.

"Liar," Harry said when his father had almost reached the kitchen.

"What was that?" Sirius responded, turning around.

"I said, you're a liar. You said you weren't angry about Remus taking me to the grave, and you were. And you still are! It wasn't even his fault. I asked him to take me, so if you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me, but leave Remus out of it."

Harry certainly succeeded in making his father angry at him, but not for the reasons he was hoping for. Sirius's hands balled into fists and his heartbeat sped up. He was currently trying every intervention he had ever learned from Healer Williams to calm himself down. He was counting in his head, taking deep breaths, and was about to do everything in his power to walk away from this situation. But when he really thought about it, he couldn't deny Harry had a point.

Truthfully, Sirius hadn't really thought about the possibility that his anger at Remus this morning was leftover resentment for taking Harry to James and Lily's grave, but he supposed that was probably true. He certainly wasn't proud that his son was the one to point that out to him.

Harry, for his part, knew he had gone too far. He respected Sirius a great deal, but his words certainly didn't reflect that, and Sirius was not one to play with when it came to being respectful. Feeling incredibly guilty, he fidgeted with the blanket, waiting on the inevitable tirade.

Sirius had already been warned by his mind healer that Harry might be moody at times, even beyond typical teenage moodiness, and the boy was sick. So he likely just wasn't in a very good mood in general. All things in perspective, given their last two weeks, this really wasn't that big of a deal, and it was probably Sirius's own guilt that was making him upset more than necessary at the boy's accusation. He took one final deep breath and spoke as calmly as he could.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way Harry, but as I've already said, the disagreement between Remus and me is just that. Between Remus and me. I am not going to discuss it with you any longer. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to make the soup, and I expect you to stay here and rest. Understand?"

Harry's mouth fell open. What the hell was happening? Sirius didn't yell at him, didn't punish him, barely even reacted. This wasn't Sirius. Harry was sure Invasion of the Body Snatchers had happened this day in their own home. He felt suffocated by uncertainty. The one person in the world who could make everything right, from feeling better from this temporary illness to helping him stop reliving that terrible night, wasn't here. He had been replaced by a Sirius that was trying so hard to say the right thing and do the right thing that he had completely forgotten that the right thing for Harry was simply him.

"Yes, sir," Harry finally said quietly, unable to think clearly enough to say anything else. He'd lost all the fight in him. "If it's all the same to you, I think I'll just rest in my room."

The last pieces of Sirius's heart that hadn't already crumbled fell apart at those words, but he simply nodded. "Ok."

….

Remus tossed the potatoes into the pot with enough force that some of the soup splashed out and burned his wrist, causing him to curse in frustration.

"You kiss me with a mouth like that?" he heard Dora ask from behind him.

He turned around in surprise and noticed she was wearing muggle clothes instead of her auror robes. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at work." He held open his arms, and she immediately bounced over and hugged him fiercely.

She pulled something from her pocket and enlarged it to a sack of groceries. "I worked so late last night that I had the morning off. I've just been to the store. What are you cooking?"

"Potato soup for Harry. He's sick. I told him I'd make it for him," he answered, turning back to stir it.

Dora smirked. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but don't Sirius and Harry have a fully functioning kitchen in their house?"

Remus stirred the soup without meeting her eyes. "Well, Sirius and I had a row, so I came back here. But when I left, I forgot that I had promised Harry the soup, so I'm hoping to have it back to him before they have lunch."

Dora frowned as she sat on their counter and watched him. "It must have been quite the argument for you to walk out. You're usually more the stay and talk it out type."

Remus looked up at her with a crooked smile. "That was almost a compliment."

She smiled back. "It's one of your better, and more annoying, qualities."

He chuckled before detailing the story to her as he added things to the soup. He finished up just as he was putting the lid on. "Harry woke up, and I left. I figured Sirius no longer needed my help with his son."

Dora was ready to murder her cousin. "His animagus form is appropriate because he's barking mad."

Remus smiled at her fierce protectiveness. He pulled her off the counter and into his arms. She laid her head on his chest and held onto him for a few moments before looking back up at him and speaking again. "Can I ask you a question?"

Remus hummed and nodded.

"How did you and Sirius become friends in the first place? You seem very different."

Despite his melancholy, a small chuckle escaped Remus. "We were very different. Complete opposites, really. He's always had more money than he knew what to do with, and my family had so little money we didn't always know what to do. But his parents were heartless and cruel, and mine were warm and kind, always. He was outgoing and confident to the point of being arrogant, and I was terribly shy and self-effacing."

Dora nodded knowingly. "I remember young Sirius. He was an arrogant berk."

Remus laughed. "He was, actually, and to be honest he still is at times."

"So how did you manage to become friends?"

Remus pulled away and sat at their table, and she did the same. "It didn't take long for James and Sirius to begin their life of crime at Hogwarts. One day we were sitting in the Charms classroom waiting for the professor. Sirius and James were sitting right behind me, and I overheard them discuss their plan to prank some Slytherins that had been getting on their nerves. I think their plan was to change their hair color or something juvenile like that. Anyway, I turned around and told them that they could get caught if they used a spell against them. After all, they'd have to be nearby and someone would probably see which direction the spell came from." He paused to laugh before continuing. "They thought I was some sort of goody two shoes that just didn't want to see Gryffindor lose points, which was probably accurate at the time but not my main motivation. I then told them that it would be better to put some sort of charm outside the Slytherin common room, that way they could leave it and no one would know who did it. We ultimately decided on a sticking charm on the floor. You should have seen the pileup outside their door as all of their feet got stuck climbing out. It was hilarious, and they, well we actually, never got caught."

"Remus Lupin, you were quite the little scoundrel yourself!" Dora teased him.

Remus smirked. "My father had a wonderful sense of humor. He used to play pranks on my mother all the time, so I was kind of used to it by the time I went to Hogwarts." He paused for a moment and shrugged. "Anyway, from that day forward, I was included in all their plans. And then Sirius was the first one to figure out my furry little problem."

"He was?"

Remus nodded. "He was. I think he was quite used to keeping secrets of his own, so he knew my tells. He was also the first one to suggest they become animagi for me. I always knew there was more to Sirius than the pompous exterior, but I think that really showed who he truly was. Sirius is deeply emotional and fiercely loyal. If he loves you, he gives his entire heart to you, and will do anything for you. If you're his enemy, Merlin help you."

Dora offered him a smile, and Remus could feel a bit of the anger at his friend melting away. He sighed and propped his head on his hand, elbow on the table. "Except when he's being impossible. For all his good qualities, he's stubbornly independent. He won't accept help even when he needs it."

"Hmm," Dora said, tapping her chin. "Who else do I know like that?"

Remus raised a suspicious eyebrow. "You must be referring to his son."

"I was referring to his best friend," she said pointedly, "But yes, it's true Harry fits the description as well. All three of you need to get your act together."

Remus looked at her incredulously. "What on earth did I do, other than try to help?"

"Well, nothing in this particular instance," Dora answered placatingly. "Other than take Harry to the Potters' grave. Honestly, honey, that was kind of a dick move."

Remus sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I never meant to hurt Sirius, I was…"

"Trying to help, I know," Dora finished for him. "But back to my original point, do you think that maybe you're constantly helping over there so you don't have to focus on how much you're hurting yourself."

She knew she'd hit a nerve when Remus wouldn't meet her eyes. She heard him swallow heavily before he finally spoke. "You may be right," he said hoarsely before wiping a tear from his cheek.

….

Amelia was tired. The ministry was in complete chaos with the resignation of the minister, and she felt like she had been going from the time her feet hit the ground that morning. As much as she wanted to go home and put her feet up, the emergency Wizengamot session had left her dizzy with excitement and shock, and she wanted to share the news with her favorite wizards before the Daily Prophet announced it.

She stepped through the floo to the Potter-Black living room to find Sirius in a most unusual position: sitting.

Sirius rarely ever sat down, except maybe to eat or chat. Even when he was engaged in a conversation, his hands were usually fidgeting, or his legs bouncing. He just didn't do still and quiet. Yet here he was, alone in this big room, sitting perfectly still and quiet.

"Everything ok?" she asked by way of greeting.

Sirius looked up at her, his mind clearly a million miles away. "Oh yeah, perfectly fine. Except I'm an idiot that insulted my best friend and pissed off my son, and now neither of them are speaking to me. Other than that, it's just peachy."

This was certainly not how Sirius wanted their summer to go. He wanted them to forget their troubles by flying his motorcycle all over Europe, lounging on whatever beach they happened to land near, and blowing money on whatever adventure came their way.

He did not want to spend the summer fighting with his best friend, and certainly not his son.

Yet, here they were.

"Ok, I can agree with the idiot part, but I'm going to need more details on the rest," Amelia told him, and Sirius couldn't help but smile at her teasing.

She sat down beside him and Sirius rehashed every embarrassing detail about how he had screwed up everything with his son and his best friend in less than two hours.

Amelia sat patiently and listened to the entire tale, but once he was finished, she looked at him strangely. "I thought you were paying a mind healer?" she questioned.

Sirius furrowed his brow in confusion. "I am."

"So, if you pay a mind healer, maybe you should just let her be the mind healer," Amelia responded.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm sure that Healer Williams has given you some good advice and she means well, but you're not Harry's mind healer, Sirius. You're his father, and that sounds like what he needs now," Amelia explained.

"I'm still not sure I follow," Sirius told her, thoroughly confused.

She sighed and pointed back at their fireplace. "When I came through that floo, you know what I thought?"

Sirius smirked. "Damn, he's sexy?"

Amelia laughed but shook her head. "No. I thought I was in the wrong house." At his perplexed face, she continued, "You were just sitting here, like you'd been petrified. That's not you, Sirius. You have so much energy it practically radiates off of you. When I stepped through, I instantly knew something was wrong because you were like a different person. You've lost some of that spark in your eye. Maybe Harry just misses that side of you. The side that thinks any woman that walks into a room immediately thinks he's sexy." She raised an eyebrow at him and could see something was getting through.

"But every time I try to do anything for Harry, he immediately bristles. He even seemed annoyed that I had cleaned his room for him. I mean, what teenager wouldn't want that?" Sirius argued.

Amelia tilted her head and gave him a sympathetic look. "If I remember anything about being a teenager, it is that I simultaneously wanted my parents to leave me alone and wanted them around at the same time. It's a confusing time."

Sirius leaned his head back and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I wish there was just some book somewhere that gave me the right answers."

Amelia reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "You've had the right answers for Harry since the moment you escaped Azkaban. I think you just need to trust yourself that you still have them."

Sirius would have liked to argue that if he had all the right answers, he would not have watched his son die just the week prior, but he wasn't quite ready for Amelia to see just how dark his thoughts were at times. So instead, he employed the Sirius Black signature move: change the subject.

"So was there a reason you came to see me other than to point out all the ways I'm an idiot?"

"Oh, are we listing all the ways? I'm not done yet if that's the case," she said playfully, then covered her face as he threw a pillow at her. "Ok, sorry. Well, I actually have some good news."

Sirius raised his eyebrows in anticipation. "What is it?"

"As of this afternoon, I will be the interim Minister of Magic."

Sirius shot to his feet. "You're joking."

Amelia shook her head, fighting back tears of joy. "I'm not. It's true. Can you imagine all the things we can do?"

Over drinks one night after Harry had gone to bed, Sirius and Amelia had dared to dream about the changes they could make in the wizarding world if she became the new Minister of Magic, even if the appointment was only temporary. She could push through legislation that protected the rights of werewolves. She could make sure the trials of the death eaters captured in the graveyard that night were actually fair trials. She could appoint competent individuals to fill the spots vacated by all the tournament disasters. She could even begin the process of reforming Azkaban, though with so many current residents that tried to kill his son, Sirius was less keen on that idea now.

A loud, girly squeal came out of Amelia's mouth as Sirius picked her up and spun her around. "This is wonderful!" he exclaimed, and she threw her head back in laughter. After a while, she squirmed, and he finally sat her down again. "This is just brilliant. Finally some bloody good news!" Sirius said, feeling a spark of hope he hadn't felt in too long.

….

Harry hadn't exactly stomped to his room, because he was much too tired and sore for that, but he hadn't exactly skipped either. He did manage to slam the door loud enough it probably at least startled Sirius. His throat was burning from yelling, his eyelids were heavy and his body was losing what little energy it had left. This new Sirius that he hated so much might have been right about him needing more rest. He had laid down on his bed and drifted off to sleep.

Much too soon for his liking, the chime of their floo woke him up, but his eyes were still droopy and he didn't have the energy to get up to see who it was. But when he heard Sirius's voice and then the loud squeal coming from their living room, he decided an investigation was in order. Slowly he walked out of his room and looked around the corner. Sirius was spinning Amelia around like a couple straight out of a cheesy romance movie.

If Harry had been thinking straight, he would have likely been happy for Sirius. He really liked Amelia, and he loved to see Sirius happy, especially when it was so rare these days. But Harry wasn't thinking straight. All he could think about and feel was his heart shattering into a million tiny pieces.

He had once been the person that made Sirius that happy. Now all he did was worry his father, cause him nightmares and push him away, and then get inexplicably angry and blow up at him. His mind whirled with negative thoughts so much so it made him dizzy. His heart hurt so bad he thought it might actually stop. Suddenly he felt rather claustrophobic in his overly large room, and he just needed to get out. But just like so many scared young boys before him, he forgot all about sharing his feelings with the one person that could help, and instead made a very dumb decisions.

Stomping back to his desk, he used the small sliver of logic still left in his brain for a single moment, and in an attempt to keep his father from losing his mind altogether, he scribbled down a note and left it on his desk with Sirius's name on the outside. Then, without a second thought, he grabbed his broom, walked over to his window, opened it, and took flight.

….

Amelia was still giggling in Sirius's arms when their floo chimed again, causing both her and Sirius to jump apart like they'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Oh, hi Moony," Sirius said sheepishly when he saw Remus.

Remus opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by Dora tumbling through the floo behind him and nearly knocking the soup from his grasp, which would have been fine, because Remus had spelled the pot shut to protect it during floo travel...and from his clumsy wife. He handed the pot to his friend and helped her up off the floor. If Sirius wasn't sure Remus was one snide comment away from hexing him to an early grave, he would have made a remark about their son being born with whiplash, but instead he kept his mouth shut and shuffled his feet nervously.

Finally Remus looked back at him. "I brought soup for Harry. I promised him this morning…"

"Yeah, he told me," Sirius said quietly. "Do you umm, have a moment to talk?"

Remus nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Dora snorted at the two grown men acting like scared school children while Amelia jumped into action. She walked over and took the pot of soup from Sirius. "Dora and I will take this and heat it up, then I'll take a bowl up to Harry. Why don't you two go into your study?"

"Yeah, and no coming out until you're best friends again," Dora said sternly, shaking a finger at them.

Sirius and Remus exchanged an amused look before Sirius gestured towards his study and Remus followed him inside.

While Remus and Sirius were resolving their issues in Sirius's study, Dora and Amelia busied themselves with reheating the soup. Remus did all of the cooking in the Lupin household, they both pretty firmly believed Dora shouldn't be anywhere near a stove, and she mostly watched while Amelia stirred.

"So, you want to tell me why you and Sirius were bright red when I came through the floo?" Dora asked, practically bouncing with excitement. Amelia was her boss, but they shared a close friendship as well outside of the office.

Amelia blushed again. "We were just startled, that's all."

"Right," Dora replied, snickering.

Amelia raised an eyebrow at her. "Want to tell me why you're not at work right now?"

Dora snuck a spoonful of soup and tasted it. "I worked late last night. Kingsley gave me the morning off since the regular boss was at an emergency Wizengamot session. Speaking of which, how did that go?"

Amelia couldn't help but smile. "Well, you should know Kingsley is going to be the boss a while longer."

Dora's eyes went wide. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

Amelia schooled her features so that they were only a smirk. "I guess you'll just have to read the Daily Prophet and find out."

Dora's hair shifted to black and she feigned offense, but Amelia simply pulled the spoon from the soup and said, "This is done. Let's take Harry a bowl."

….

Sirius and Remus barely made it into the study before Sirius started apologizing. "I'm sorry I was a git," he said sincerely. "I said some truly awful things to you, and I'm an idiot. I do appreciate everything you've done for me and Harry. I couldn't have made it through these past few days without you, and I don't know why I acted like such a prat. To be honest, I think I was a bit jealous."

"Jealous?" Remus questioned.

"Yeah," Sirius nodded. "Harry has been shutting me out ever since we came home. I can't do anything for him without him reminding me, subtly or not so subtly, that he doesn't need me. It's an awful feeling. When you said he took a potion for you without complaining, it felt like getting punched in the gut over again."

"Wait," Remus said, holding up a hand. "I never said Harry took the potion without complaint. What gave you that idea?"

Sirius blinked a few times. "I don't know, I just thought…" he stopped as Remus began laughing.

"Without complaint? Really, Sirius. Have you ever known that boy to take a potion, or even worse, stay in bed, without complaining? He's James made over in that. I thought I was going to have to put him in a body bind to make him stay in the bed."

When Sirius thought about it, he couldn't help but laugh about it too. It had been a pretty ridiculous assumption. As they shared a chuckle, the tension between them seemed to dissolve.

Sirius rubbed his forehead as they finally regained their composure. "He is a rather stubborn boy. I can't believe at this time yesterday I was thinking of taking him to the beach, and now I'm worried I'm going to have to take him to a healer."

Remus frowned. "It does seem like you two can't catch a break."

Sirius sighed and nodded, but then he managed a smile at his friend. "Well, we have you to look out for us. That's about the best break two people can catch."

Remus gave him a genuine smile. Despite their difference, they'd built a lifelong friendship, and for that he was grateful. But he, like Harry, was concerned with the recent changes in Sirius. He understood the safety reasons behind keeping Harry home so much, and he knew that Sirius didn't think he was mentally prepared to be out around people, but he had also seen how Sirius had lit up in the presence of the Order members the day prior. Sirius was an extrovert through and through, and he needed to be around people in order to feel normal again. He knew he should address this with his friend, but he also knew to tread lightly.

"Sirius, I think you and Harry need to get out of this house."

"We're fine," Sirius said wearily. "We go to Healer Williams once a week."

"That hardly counts," Remus countered. "You especially need to be around people, have an adventure." He could see the hesitation on Sirius's face, so he clarified. "I'm not saying walk into Diagon Alley. But you and Harry could take your motorcycle somewhere. You mentioned going to the beach house. Maybe plan to go there when Harry is better."

Sirius sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I would love to, but you know how Harry is. He's just like James was. A good adrenaline boost can help me forget my troubles, but Harry needs to brood. Healer Williams says it's healthy because he's actually allowing himself to feel them, but I call it wallowing."

"And I help others to pretend my hurt doesn't exist," Remus muttered thoughtfully.

"What was that?" Sirius asked.

Remus cleared his throat. "Nothing. Just something Dora said earlier." He shook the thought away and looked at Sirius again. "How about, when Harry gets better, I'll take him to play tennis, and you and Amelia can have an adventure of your own?"

Sirius eyed his friend suspiciously. "Just what sort of adventure do you think Amelia and I would like to have?"

Remus snorted. "If I had to guess, it would be one that doesn't involve clothing."

Sirius's jaw dropped. "Moony!" They shared a laugh until Sirius began tapping his desk joyfully. "I actually don't think Amelia will have the time. She told me some very good news today."

Remus was intrigued, but Sirius never had a chance to share. In the next moment, Dora barreled into the room, followed closely by Amelia, thrust a parchment at Sirius, and yelled, "I am going to murder your son!"

Bewildered, Sirius picked up the parchment and read it.

Dad,

Please try to remember I'm safe. I just needed a break. I went somewhere that is completely safe and protected. I will return home by 2:00, and then I will accept any punishment you have for me without complaint. Just remember I'm safe.

Harry

….

Harry had had a lot of bad ideas in his life, but he was beginning to think this ranked among the worst, and that was including the time he stuck his wand up a troll's nose. He was already exhausted before he even got to the edge of their property. How in the world did he think he was going to fly all the way to Ottery St. Catchpole?

His head was pounding. The muscles in his arms and legs felt like they were going to give out at any moment, which would have been quite a disaster given he was on his broom about 50 feet off the ground. His throat was completely dry and scratchy, and now with the effort of trying to keep his broom in the air when all his body wanted to do was rest, his cough was returning with a vengeance. Even though it was the middle of summer, he was shivering, so he was sure his fever was back.

He stopped his broom in the air and looked behind him, breathing hard and coughing. He could no longer see their house, but he knew he hadn't gone that far. It was possible he could make it back and get back in bed before Sirius even discovered he was missing. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he gritted his teeth to get through the pain and angled his broom back towards their home.

….

Amelia was biting her lip nervously.

Dora was murderous.

Remus was flabbergasted.

But Sirius…he was terrified.

He was currently pacing around the room and tangling his fingers in his curly hair as he cursed repeatedly in several different languages.

"The nerve of that boy," Remus said between gritted teeth. "Where could he have gone? He's sick for crying out loud!"

Amelia was immediately in investigator mode. "That's a good question. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

Remus shook his head, but Sirius was too busy panicking to focus on the question. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might actually come out of his chest. His mouth had gone completely dry and his hands were shaking.

"Sirius!" Amelia called out. She walked over to him and took him by the elbows to stop him. She looked into his eyes "I know you're scared, but I need you to focus. Where would Harry go?"

"I don't know!" he snapped, pulling away from her.

Remus held up a finger. "Let's check the clock."

"The clock?" Amelia asked, but Remus was already walking towards the kitchen.

"The clock Arthur gave Sirius," Remus explained when he heard the others following him. "Maybe it can give us a clue."

The clock certainly told them something they were not expecting at all. Once they all reached the kitchen, they noticed Harry's hand was pointing at "home."

"Home?" Remus questioned. "How can that be?"

Sirius rubbed his forehead. "I don't even know if the charm still works on that clock, Moony. I forgot I had it to be honest."

"No, it works," Remus countered. "I noticed it yesterday. It definitely was pointing at 'Burrow' while Harry was there."

Sirius looked at Amelia and Dora. "You said he wasn't here?"

Both witches shook their heads. "Definitely not. His window was open, so we figured he flew out," Amelia explained. "How big is your property?"

Sirius lifted a shoulder. "100 acres, give or take."

Amelia frowned and peered out their back window. "Do you think he could be in those woods?"

Before that moment, Sirius didn't think he could be any more scared, but the thought of Harry alone in those woods with Merlin knew what had his mind spinning in panic. His breath was becoming ragged and he had to sit down.

Remus and Amelia rushed to reassure their friend, but Dora gasped and pointed out the window again. "He's not in the woods. Look, he's walking this way."

Remus, Amelia, and Dora all looked out the window to see a very tired and disoriented Harry dragging his Firebolt, and himself, back towards the house, but before their brains could even fully register what was happening, they saw a black dog sprinting towards him.

….

Overly Protective Sirius made a swift appearance as soon as he reached Harry, and the teenager had never been happier to see him. Harry was completely sapped. He had given up on the effort of flying and looked like a zombie with a broomstick when he emerged from the woods.

The first thing Overly Protective Sirius did was hug him fiercely, noticing immediately that his son was burning up. The second thing he did was pick him up and carry him back to their house and up to his bed, where he proceeded to fuss over him. He took his temperature, which was over 103 and caused Sirius's heart to temporarily stop, then asked Dobby to fetch Harry a cool cloth for his head and a whole list of potions while he tucked the blankets around him.

It wasn't until Harry had dared to make a face at the tray of potions the devoted elf had appeared with that Overly Protective Sirius morphed quickly into…well, just Sirius.

"Young man, you are in enough trouble as it stands. If I were you, I would take these potions and go to sleep without a word of complaint to keep from digging yourself into an even deeper hole."

Harry gulped and wasted no time in taking the potion and lying down.

Now Sirius was sitting at his son's bedside watching his chest rise and fall. This had been a constant source of comfort for the man since he brought Harry home from Hogwarts. Many nights, especially after a nightmare, he would lie beside his son and watch him breathe. Every now and then, Harry would cough and disrupt the rhythm, which would make Sirius's heart skip a beat. But within seconds, his breathing would even out again and Sirius would feel a little bit of peace again. He could have sat here forever, as long as he could see his son was alive and breathing.

Harry blinked a few times as he began to wake up. Though his eyesight was fuzzy without his glasses, he saw the unmistakable outline of his father sitting in his desk chair beside his bed.

"Hey, Pup. How are you feeling?" Sirius asked kindly.

Harry reached for his glasses and sat up slowly. He couldn't feel any pain in his muscles, his head felt better, and for now he wasn't coughing, but his throat was still a little sore. "My throat is still a little scratchy," he replied hoarsely. "But otherwise I feel ok. How long was I asleep?"

Sirius looked up at the clock in Harry's room. "Over three hours. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," Harry said quietly, remembering what all had happened earlier in the day. "I had a bad dream though."

"Oh?" Sirius said curiously.

"Yeah, I dreamed that I snuck out and tried to fly to the Burrow without telling you."

Sirius let out a long breath. "Well, I'd tell you I had the same dream, but I haven't been asleep, so I'm afraid that really happened." He propped his feet up on Harry's bed. "You want to tell me what you were thinking?"

Harry's fingers nervously traced circles on his blankets as he stared anywhere but his father's eyes. "I just needed a break," he said quietly.

"A break from what, exactly? This house?" Sirius paused to swallow hard. "Me?"

"Not you," Harry said quickly, shaking his head back and forth. "I missed you."

Sirius lowered his eyebrows in confusion. "Harry, I've been right here."

"No." Harry's eyes were darting all over the room as he desperately tried to hold back his tears. He felt absolutely terrible, not only for his actions today, but for everything that had happened to them, and he knew as soon as he spoke he would begin crying. "You were just…" his voice broke and he wiped a tear away. "You were just so different. I feel like I've been living with a stranger."

Sirius moved swiftly from his seat to Harry's bed and wrapped his arms around his son. He rubbed Harry's back while the boy cried, and when Harry seemed to be regaining some composure, he worked up the nerve to ask, "What do you mean, Pup?"

Harry sat up, though he kept his hand on Sirius's chest. "Ever since that night, you've just been different. You seem sad all the time. You don't ask if I want to go anywhere or do anything. You're not sleeping well, and you never scold me for anything. And I hate it because it's all my fault."

Sirius looked down at him sternly. "Harry, we've talked about this. You are not to blame yourself for what happened that night. Nothing you could have done could have prevented it."

"I could have used my portkey necklace," Harry argued. "I thought you'd put my bum in St. Mungo's for that, or I'd be grounded the entire summer, or something. But you didn't do anything."

Sirius sighed. He was honest enough to admit that when Cedric brought the necklace back to him, he had a flash of anger at his son so intense it could have lit all of Hogwarts castle. But it was just that, a flash. So what if Harry didn't use the necklace. What happened that night was inevitably going to happen. Voldemort was on a mission to kill his son, and he would not have stopped until he was successful or dead. Sirius was just thankful he was dead now. There was no point in playing the what if game. What happened happened, and the most important thing was that it was over now, even if it was going to take a long time before both his and Harry's brain fully comprehended that fact.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Harry, we've been over this. I'm not angry about the necklace. Should you have used it? Yeah, I can admit that. But what happened that night was going to happen one way or the other. Voldemort wanted you…" he shook his head, "Well, we know what he wanted. The point is, that's in the past, and I think it's time we both moved forward from it."

"Ok," Harry nodded, "But then why have you been acting so strange? If you don't punish me over the necklace, fine, but you've been letting me get away with everything. Which I'm grateful for, but it's not like you. I mean, you cleaned my room for me!"

Despite how hard he was rubbing his forehead, it was doing nothing to alleviate the headache Sirius could feel forming. "If I had known how much consternation simply cleaning your room was going to cause, I would have left it. Why is that such a big deal, kid?"

"It's not a big deal," Harry countered, "It's just not like you. You've never done that before. And, I know you desperately want to go fly or get out of this house, but you haven't even asked me if I wanted to go. I feel like I'm ruining your life." He could feel his tears coming again. "Then I saw you with Amelia, and it just…" he stopped himself, angry that he couldn't stop his rambling before he'd said too much.

Sirius shifted so he could look directly at Harry. "You saw me doing what with Amelia, Harry?"

Harry hated this, but it was too late to turn back now. "I saw you pick her up. You seemed so happy." He looked down again and whispered, "You're never that happy with me anymore."

Sirius closed his eyes and mentally cursed himself. He'd been such an idiot.

He was also struck by just how right Amelia had been about all of this, but he pushed that thought away for a different time. Right now he needed to focus on his son.

"Harry, I screwed up. Big time. I have been trying so hard to be exactly what you needed, I think I lost myself in the process. I didn't think you would want to get out of the house and do anything fun, so I didn't ask. I'm sorry."

He stopped as Harry looked up and met his eyes. He gave him a small smile and then continued.

"I've probably been letting you get away with things because I attributed any misbehavior to lingering trauma from that night. I cleaned your room because I thought you needed a clean, organized space to help you heal. I just kept thinking, 'What would Healer Williams do?'"

Harry returned his smile. "I don't need Healer Williams. I need my dad."

Sirius didn't have words to answer that, so he just pulled his son in for another hug, and they stayed that way for a long while. Finally Sirius gently took Harry's chin and angled it so that his son was looking directly at him.

"I don't want you to ever think you are ruining my life, young man. You are the reason I get out of bed in the morning. You are my entire life. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you always will be. Understand?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I love you, Dad."

Sirius smiled, the real smile that reached his eyes and lit up a room, and Harry was relieved and ecstatic to finally see it.

"I love you too, Son."

Harry's stomach rumbled, causing Sirius to chuckle. "Hungry?"

"Starving," Harry confirmed.

"Do you think you feel well enough to eat in the dining room? Remus left his famous potato soup."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I think I could do that."

Sirius helped him to his feet and angled him towards the door before giving his bum a smack that was just a little too firm to be completely playful. "Good, because you and I have a lot to discuss, and don't you worry. You will not be getting away with the stunt you pulled today."

….

Sirius did not disappoint.

Harry had immediately tried to apologize, but he was cut off by an irate Sirius.

"Hold it. You had your chance to talk. You explained yourself quite thoroughly in this nice little letter you left." Sirius said as he pulled the note from his pocket and held it up. "Now it's my turn."

He expressed his extreme disappointment in Harry's irresponsibility, his putting himself in danger, and his unwillingness to speak to him about how he was feeling. He let Harry know in no uncertain terms just how terrified he had been and just how bad things could have turned out if Harry had passed out from his illness before he landed or made it back to their house. The censure continued for so long, Harry was actually grateful he had come home early. Who knew how much steam Sirius could have built up if he had waited until 2pm?

When it seemed like Sirius was finally done and Harry's ears felt permanently blistered from his lecture, Harry looked up sheepishly at him. "Do you want me to go wait in my room?" He didn't particularly want what he was sure was coming, but he was thankful that he seemed to have his old Sirius back.

Sirius appraised his son's nervous face, letting him squirm another moment before shaking his head and answering. "No, I don't think that's necessary…"

For a moment, Harry was terrified that he had been mistaken, that Sirius was going to revert back to the shell of a father he had been the last few days. But he was wrong.

"I'm not going to spank a sick child, but you can rest assured that if you ever leave this house on your broom again without permission, not only will I get rid of the broom, but you won't mind because your bum will be too sore to ride it."

Harry gulped at that promise, but Sirius continued unfazed.

"Here is what is going to happen. As soon as you're feeling better, you're on restriction, but you're not restricted to this house. You're restricted to me."

Harry was completely confused. "What does that mean?"

"It means, other than when you're in the bathroom, you will always be in my sight. If I'm cooking, you're in the kitchen with me. If I'm working on my motorcycle, you're out there with me. If I'm in my study working, you're in my study too. Understand?"

"My punishment is spending time with you?" Harry asked, not being able to help his smirk.

Sirius chuckled. "It won't be nearly as glamorous as it sounds after a couple of days, trust me." The Potters had given him a similar punishment when he was 16, and it only took about 48 hours before he was begging for just a minute away from them.

Harry doubted that, but he wasn't dumb enough to say it out loud. "Ok. How long?"

"Two weeks," Sirius told him. "Also, Remus is coming to stay again tonight so we both can take another potion and get a good night's sleep. I hope you are completely better when you wake up tomorrow, but if you're not, you will take any potion he tells you to without one word of complaint, or I might have to amend my policy on spanking a sick kid. Do you understand?"

Harry's eyes went wide. "Yes, sir."

Sirius nodded. "Alright. Now, how about some treacle tart?"