A/N: We get a mini-break before the next trial begins, so buckle in for a little domesticity! Also, definitely getting back into the swing of regular posting!

Remus gets the owl just as he comes home from work. He feels awful just leaving Harri by herself at home, but she promises she doesn't mind. He's procured a toy quidditch pitch for her, but he could only afford one team. Harri loves it regardless, making the figurines play three-on-three while she makes up her own rules.

As of current, he walks in just as her seeker is trying to escape. Remus snatches it out of the air, holding it tight. The little figurine squirms, waving an angry arm at him.

"Thanks, Moony!" Harri says breathlessly. "He was hiding up near the ceiling. He's mad that I took him out of the game.

"He's Puddlemore, darling, of course he's cross." There's a hoot and an owl flies in, sending the all the figurines, even the seeker, cowering in the relative safety of the pitch. Remus hurries over, taking the letter while Harri carefully fills up a saucer with water.

Remus,

He's coming home. Enjoy tonight. Will explain all tomorrow.

Geoff

It's a single, scant line, not even ten full words, but Remus reads it over and over again, until Harri demands to know what it says. The sudden shock gives way to relief and exaltation, and he leans down, hauling Harri up and swinging her around as he whoops.

"Padfoot's coming back!" he cries.

"Really?" Harri's lit up brighter than he's ever seen her. Remus nods eager, pressing a big kiss to her forehead. Merlin, he could cry in relief. Harri shrieks her delight, earning an indignant squawk from the owl, but neither of them can bring themselves to care.

Remus holds her close, forcing himself not to squeeze too tight. Harri clings to him, the epitome of happiness.

"We have to throw a party," she says. "With balloons and take-away!"

"Padfoot will love that," Remus says, still beaming. "He'll be here in a bit, actually." Harri squirms insistently until Remus sets her down, then tears into his room, returning with an armful of construction paper, paints, and scissors.

"Hurry, Moony! You have to go to the shops! To get party things!" she instructs. "I'll make decorations."

"Alright, alright, I'm going," he laughs.

"Get take-away!" Harri calls as he heads back out. He goes to the Indian place first, placing an order for naan, some vegetable curries—now, he's got to trick two children into eating their veggies—and a biriyani.

Then, he picks up a pack of balloons, a few bottles of liquor, and a juice from Tesco. He's awkward as ever—bloody paper money—but Beth, the kind, elderly woman working the till, is very patient with him.

"Having a party?" she asks, handing back his change.

"A friend of mine is visiting," Remus explains.

"Must be very special," Beth says, a twinkle in her eyes. She shoots him a knowing smile. "Bet she's gorgeous."

"Er…" Remus falters, but Beth only laughs, bagging up his things before sending him on his way. He's quiet when he returns to the Indian place, picking up the order. He hasn't thought about…that since he was a teenager, and everything seemed possible.

Even if Sirius liked men, there was a very good chance that the two of them were simply too broken to fit together. Besides, they had the rest of the trial to worry about, and then Harri. It wouldn't help anyone to dwell on that.

When he gets back, the flat is covered in paper stars, hearts, and to Remus's great amusement, paper dogs with sparkly black fur.

"When did he say he was coming, Moony?" Harri asks. She's a mess of paint and glitter, and there's a paintbrush tangled in her curls.

"In a bit, pet," he says setting the takeaway down. He sets the balloons free, charming them to fill up on their own. "Shall we clean you up a bit?"

"Oh, alright," Harri sighs, world-weary. Remus snorts, fetching a rag and running it under warm water. Carefully, he wipes up the mess, rolling his eyes at the way she squirms. Honestly, you'd think she was under duress.

Privately, Remus is glad that her greatest annoyance at the moment is getting an impromptu washing. It's a far cry from the small, fearful but determined child he met a few months ago. It's foolish to think she'll always stay this way, but he can try and protect her as long as he can.

There's a sharp knock on the door that makes the both of them jump, then Harri races to the door before Remus can stop her. His heart is thudding so loud, time seeming to slow with each beat. His breathing comes in faint little puffs, every part of his body restless.

Finally, he thinks.

"Padfoot!" Harri's scream is loud in the tiny flat, and before he can even come in, Sirius has Harri in his arms, holding her like she's a lifeline. He looks over at Remus, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Finally.

Harri squirms until she's let down. She pulls Sirius further inside, eager to show him all the hard work she'd put in to get ready for the party. Sirius, to his credit, makes an honest effort to pay attention, but he keeps looking over at Remus.

"Shall we eat?" Harri asks.

"You must be starved," Remus says. They're strange first words to say to Sirius, but he nods, grinning gratefully.

"Ministry food is horrible," he says. "That's the real crime."

Remus snickers, some of the strange tension appeased. He summons plates and the take away, ignoring both Harri and Sirius's protests as he loads their plates up with the vegetable curry first. It's got capsicum in it, a vegetable Harri utterly despises, but it's one of the healthiest things on the menu.

They eat and chat for a while, mostly listening to Harri's running commentary on everything that happened while Sirius was away. When she asks about the trial, he just shrugs.

"Told them the truth," he says. "That's really all you can do, Hazza."

Harri nods, eyes wide and somber like Sirius is giving away the precious secret to life. Remus snorts into his water.

After Harri's satisfied with all the attention Sirius showers on her—and she starts to droop—Sirius takes her into Remus's room to put her to bed. He emerges a few minutes later, while Remus is doing the washing up. He stands in the middle of the small kitchen, just watching Remus. It sends Remus's heartbeat skyrocketing.

"Moony," Sirius says softly, and oh, there's really only so much Remus can take. In a heartbeat, he crosses the room, flinging himself at Sirius and holding him tight. One arm winds tight around Sirius's middle, and his other hand tangles itself in his hair.

Sirius clutches back just as tightly, two fists balled up in Remus's sweater. He's breathing hard, like he's trying desperately not to cry. Remus starts to sway a little, just a gentle rocking motion. He's a bit taller, so he folds Sirius against him, tucking his head under his chin.

"Bloody merlin," Sirius croaks. "I thought I…"

"Yeah, I know," Remus says quietly. Gently, he starts to pick apart the tangles. Sirius must've been running his hands through it all day long, mussing it up. It's a habit he picked up from James. "It's alright, now."

"Not quite," Sirius mumbles. "But better."

"I think that's all we can ask for," Remus reminds him. "For now, anyways." They're quiet for a bit, still pressed against each other. Remus revels in his warmth, though he smells all wrong. That's a simple fix, it'll only take a day or so of borrowed clothes for Sirius to smell right again, like a mixture of the both of them.

Remus blinks, surprised at his own thought. Must be the moon coming up.

"Did you get soap in my hair?" Sirius mumbles. Remus snorts, purposefully raking his fingers through his hair, tangles be damned.

"Needed something to dry my hands off with, you interrupted the washing up." Sirius scoffs, jabbing a quick finger into Remus's side, making him jump.

"Prat," Remus calls him, shoving him away. Sirius only laughs, not bothering to exit Remus's orbit. Eventually he does, and the sudden loss makes Remus feel… well, he actually can't quite articulate it, which is troubling in and of itself.

"So, er, what really happened?" he asks, just to give them something to talk about. Instantly, he regrets it, because some of happiness seems to drain away from Sirius, makes him look older, more tired. Sirius explains some of the trial, and it's clear he's leaving out huge chunks, but Remus doesn't press him.

Eventually, Sirius will tell him all of it, if he feels up to it.

"Listen, Abbott will be by in the morning, to talk about Harri and where she's going," Sirius says. Remus worries his lip. Technically, Sirius is still on a few charges, so he can't be her guardian for now, and Remus isn't even family.

"Abbott will help us," Remus says. It's sort of just a thing to say, but Remus repeats it to himself again, to try and force himself to believe it.

"He's a good bloke," Sirius says, a wry smile on his lips. "McGonagall apologized to me today."

"What for?" Remus blurts out, stunned.

"For thinking I was a murderous bastard, I suppose," Sirius says with a shrug. It's a forced indifference. "Easy mistake to make."

"Sirius—"

"Don't. Not you," Sirius interrupts. "We've apologized to each other enough."

"Suppose so," Remus says, letting out a sad little laugh. "You alright?"

"Suppose I will be," Sirius says. "After a drink."

"I've got just the thing," Remus says, summoning a bottle of muggle liquor and two glasses. The whiskey is smooth, warming Remus up with every sip.

Sirius downs the first one, drinking it in a single shot, but savors the next one. They sit by the fire, shoulders pressed together. Sirius seems to get looser and looser, and eventually his head falls on Remus's shoulder.

"Perhaps it's time for bed," he says.

"I miss sleeping in a bed," Sirius sighs. "Or anywhere warm, for that matter."

"Do you want the couch?" Remus can make a bed out of the spare duvet and settle down in front of the fireplace.

"Nah, you take it," Sirius says, leaning back a little to smile blearily at Remus. "Padfoot can go bunk with Harri tonight."

Seeing Harri again was like surfacing from a deep and murky ocean. Sirius breathed her in deep lungful's, clinging like she was his very last hope. All the worry, all the panic had melted away when he saw her.

Seeing Remus again was like having all the breath snatched away from him. Tight, constricting cageyness that didn't dissolve until he found himself in Remus's arms.

Sirius is a teetering on the knife's edge of drunk, and part of him wants to storm right back into the living room and pull Remus right back into his arms, or kiss him, or something, but the rational part of him—the last sober part—knows it's better to stay here and keep his heart safely intact.

Padfoot jumps up onto the bed, making himself comfortable against Harri. She sleeps curled up tight, so Padfoot rests his chin on the warm lump of little girl.

Merlin, he missed her.

Padfoot wakes to a small hand stroking through the fur on the top of his head. He lifts his head lazily, letting his tongue loll out in greeting. Harri shoots him a sleepy little smile back. She blinks at him, slow, rubbing a small fist against her eye.

"Morning Padfoot," she mumbles, slipping out of bed. Her hair is a veritable nest, just like James when he used to keep his hair longer. He stretches slowly—it always feels better as a dog—before turning back.

"Sleep alright, Hazza?"

"It's too big," Harri says, regarding the bed with a frown. "Gets cold."

"Sorry darling," Sirius says, ducking down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. "I think socks might help with that, though."

Harri rolls her eyes, tugging on his hand and leading him to the living room. Remus is already up, busy frying up toast, bacon, and eggs.

"Morning," he says, holding an arm out for Harri. She gives him a quick squeeze before going to the fridge, pouring herself a glass of juice.

"Morning," Sirius says. "Need a hand?"

"Set the table, won't you?"

They work in comfortable silence, but Sirius can't help but remember last night in the kitchen, the two of them pressed as tight as they could be. It dries his throat out a bit.

"Did Abbott say when he was coming?" Remus asks.

"Er, not exactly," Sirius answers, pouring two cups of tea. Extra milk in his and extra sugar in Remus's. "Dunno, said he had a meeting with someone from Magical Children's Welfare."

"Brilliant," Remus intones, rolling his eye. "Right, well, the both of you will have to help me straighten up around here."

"Alright," Harri says genially. "Padfoot, what's the barrister coming to talk about?"

He and Remus exchange uneasy looks. They'd decided early on that it was best to keep Harri out of the legal proceedings as much as possible, but she's a curious child, and is slowly losing her ability to hold her tongue. It's not a bad thing, per say, but it does make for some awkward questions at times.

"Er, Moony?" Remus rolls his eyes but takes a seat beside Harri.

"Darling, when your mum and dad had you, they decided that if anything should happen to them, Padfoot would be the one to take care of you—"

"He is, though," Harri interrupts. There's a glimmer of fear in her eyes, and Sirius wants badly to soothe it away, to promise that she'll be with him as long as she likes, but it's not a promise he can make.

"Right, but love, the ministry still thinks that he's done something bad," Remus explains. "They're afraid that Padfoot might hurt you."

"He wouldn't!" Harri insists. To Sirius's surprise, her glass begins to shake, thin barely-there cracks appearing along the sides. He'd just thought Harri had grown out of her magical outburst, like most children did when they turned seven.

"Hazza," Sirius says as soothingly as possible. "It'll be okay, no matter what, alright?"

"I'm not going back!" she says forcefully. The cracks grow a little more.

"It might not be up to us," Remus says gently. With that, the glass explodes, and Harri rears back, eyes filling with tears.

"I didn't mean to," she says quickly. "It just happened, I don't know how!"

"It's alright," Remus says quickly. "Go on and wash your hands, love. Maybe change your sweater?" Harri nods, a deep frown marring her little face.

"She's a bit old to be having outburst," Remus says, once she's safely out of ear shot.

"Dunno," Sirius says, frowning thoughtfully. "Last time I had one, I was fourteen." There was nothing kind, or normal, about his childhood, and his control was always a bit tenuous. Then again, the same could be said for Harri.

"Were you?" Remus asks, the gleam of academic curiosity bright in his eyes. "How'd you stop? It won't look good if she's still having outbursts. MCW will think she's unbalanced. They might place her somewhere else."

"We just need to keep her calm, is all," Sirius says. "Keep telling her that she'll stay here, and everything will be alright."

"She knows when we lie to her," Remus points out. "She doesn't call us out, but she knows. She's far too smart."

"Suppose we just see what Abbott says," Sirius says. Remus nods, clearing up the spilled juice. Together, they work quickly to clean up the kitchen and the living room. There's a muted crack, then a knock. Sirius swallows hard, getting up to answer the door.

"Morning," Abbott says, waving cheerfully. Hopefully, that meant good news.

"Cup of tea?" Remus offers, summoning the teapot. Abbott nods eagerly, accepting the cup.

"What's the verdict?" Sirius asks nervously.

"Thankfully, they're letting her stay here for now," Abbott says. "Met with a—well, I wouldn't call her pleasant, per say—woman who'd been following the trial. Saoirse Finnegan. Bit brutal but didn't see anything wrong with having Harri under Mr. Lupin's care."

"Does, er, does she know that I'm—"

"Oh, yes, actually, your records were pulled," Abbott says. "She'll be by soon to give you a plan for the, er, situation."

"I can stay?" Harri's back in the room, dressed in one of Moony's old sweaters and a pair of ancient looking wool socks.

"Yes, young lady, you may," Abbott tells her a smile. Harri lets out a shriek, throwing herself wildly at Sirius. He catches her deftly, grunting a little under her weight, but hugging her fiercely.

"I know we're not done with the trials, but Sirius," Abbott says, once Harri's calmed down. "I have a very good feeling."

Sirius grins. For the first time, in a long time, he does too.

A/N: Personally, I think it's ridiculous that there isn't a wizarding equivalent to CPS, so I'm adding departments to the ministry as I see fit. Also, three guesses as to who Saoirse is. Tune in next week and let me know what you thought!