AN - Sorry for the delay getting this to you folks. Took a while to get this back from my beta and I worked a bunch of overtime and didn't have much time to go through edits until now. Thanks for sticking with the story everyone. For those commenting that the story is very similar to the original so far, I agree but as time goes on things will divert pretty greatly. For now, here's the next chapter. Enjoy, and as always, feel free to comment on what you like and don't like.
Harry ran his fingers through his messy hair, looking at the packed trunk again. Well, his not-unpacked trunk, to be technical. He had spent the entire train ride back to Little Whinging in a mixture of excitement and depression.
He was going back to the Dursley's. He'd spent his entire memorable life with the Dursleys and he'd not enjoyed a single moment of it. They went out of their way to make his life miserable. He lived in a cupboard underneath a staircase until he was eleven. When he'd found out he was a wizard, he'd been allowed to take one of the spare bedrooms used by his cousin, Dudley. The smallest of course, and sparsely decorated, but he supposed it was an upgrade.
He still did much of the cooking and almost all of the cleaning. They adamantly refused to acknowledge magic, preferring to lock up all of his school supplies when he was there and forbidding him to speak about anything magic related. Magic, as a word, was one that carried more grave consequences than any other curse word he could utter.
Every moment spent with the Dursleys, he was sure, had to be some form of torture. That was his life though, and he was, for all intents and purposes, used to it. In previous years, he dreaded coming back to the Dursley's for the summer vacation. Now things were different.
That's not to say that he didn't dread it this time. No, instead it was ten times worse, because he'd made plans to go stay with his godfather, Sirius Black.
Until very recently, he'd had no idea he had a godfather. Then he found out that while he did have one, he was a convicted murderer responsible for killing his parents. Then he found out that the man was actually innocent, and that a different family friend had committed the betrayal. It had been a whirlwind of a year.
Even though he'd missed the last 12 years as a free man and had not really met Harry before, Sirius took his role as godfather at least a little seriously. He'd made the invitation for Harry to stay with him if he wanted, and honestly there was nothing that sounded better. Being away from the Dursleys was something he could always get behind, and in the short time he'd known Sirius, the man had made a good impression. Harry felt like he could trust Sirius to look out for him, and that feeling was good.
The month that Sirius had asked for, in order to get his affairs in order and do some recovering after his many years in Azkaban, had been one of the longest in Harry's life. He had no way to really pass the time, not enjoyably at least.
The Dursleys would not allow him to access his school supplies, so studying was out of the question. Owls could only travel so fast, so the few letters back and forth took a long time between responses. He had no friends outside of school, so there was no one to visit.
Well, he did have some friends outside of school, but again it did him no good. Captain Bradley Gordon of the US Army, and the rest of his team, were among his friends. It was true, they were not from his school, but they lived and worked in the United States. Visiting them would be a headache to say the least, though he mused that his uncle might actually appreciate it for once, if not for the fact that he'd have to pay the airfare. Fat chance.
Brad was a muggle, though genetically altered to be able to see and interact with magic. He couldn't pick up a wand and do magic, that was still something only a wizard or another magical being could do. But, much like a squib, Brad was able to see it. According to him, seeing was half of the battle.
Harry mused that Brad would have been at least partially satisfied with how Harry was spending the month at the Dursleys. With nothing else to do, he'd been spending a lot of time doing exercises to stay in shape. A little bit of muscle-building here and there, but mostly it was just getting his heart pumping. He didn't have anyone to spar with, but he was able to practice a bit when he was alone.
It wasn't much, but it was something. Something to pass the time and something to keep him at least marginally safer. Sirius had actually been pretty impressed; the way Harry was able to disarm him and use his own wand against him. Both Sirius and Brad, separately, had encouraged Harry to keep up in his self-defense. Harry had to admit, it felt good knowing he could handle himself if something got ugly.
Thump-thump-thump. "Boy!" The very loud, rather obnoxious voice of Uncle Vernon knocked Harry out of his thoughts. "Boy, it's time to get that kitchen clean! Now!" Thump. Harry hung his head for a moment before getting up. Any time now, Sirius.
Harry headed downstairs to go get the dishes done. Harry had made very sure to keep his mouth shut about his godfather. He'd been afraid that, in some way, the Dursleys would spoil his leaving them to live with Sirius. Their seeming enjoyment of tormenting him was only rivaled by their hatred of all things magic, and a part of him was sure that they would find a way to keep him there just to spite him. That would be a nightmare.
Eyeing the large stack of dishes that somehow accumulated since lunchtime, Harry let out a soft sigh. Dudley and Uncle Vernon especially spent much of their day eating. He knew better than to be obvious about his displeasure, it was a lot easier if he just went along with it. He grabbed the first plate, which had crusted bits of something that seemed to have bonded at a molecular level to the plate. Harry started to scrub but was interrupted.
Knock-knock. Two loud raps at the front door, audible even over the TV, which was showing some action movie Dudley just got. Harry was already wiping his hands on his pants when Uncle Vernon called out.
"Boy, get the door!" he huffed. Harry walked past the great mound of a man, who hadn't yet put his newspaper down. It was a wonder there was anything left to read, being that he'd been glued to it at all both meals earlier today.
Harry opened the door and looked at the stranger standing there. He was tall, with nearly shoulder length black hair and deep gray eyes. He was dressed sharply in a nice suit and smiled broadly before grasping Harry in a tight hug. Only then did Harry recognize his godfather, and he returned the hug.
"Just who do you think you are!?" Uncle Vernon roared. Obviously, he'd put the newspaper down and was confused by Harry hugging the stranger. Harry and Sirius broke apart and Sirius eyed Uncle Vernon as he struggled to heave himself out of his chair. Sirius took a step inside and Harry closed the door, which seemed to enrage Uncle Vernon further. "What are you letting him in here for, boy!? This is not your house to go inviting-"
"Quiet!" Sirius shouted over the top of Uncle Vernon. The surprise of it left him silent. It was only for a moment, but that moment was enough. "I'm Sirius Black, Harry's godfather." Uncle Vernon, who'd had his mouth open for another round, snapped it shut again.
Harry had relayed that much about his school year, that his escaped madman of a godfather was out to kill him. His aunt and uncle didn't seem to care all that much one way or the other, but it was something else entirely having a serial killer in your home.
"Wha-what do you want?" Aunt Petunia spoke into the silence. She was holding Dudley by the shoulders, as though her frail from could get the very fat boy out of danger.
"I'm here to collect Harry, of course." Sirius's face, which had been so full of joy just moments ago, was betraying a look of supreme irritation at the way he'd been treated so far.
"There won't be a need for violence," Uncle Vernon said cautiously. Sirius gave Harry a quizzical look.
"I didn't tell them," Harry explained. "I didn't want them to mess it up."
"Mess what up?" Uncle Vernon's voice edged back into hostility.
"I see," Sirius said to Harry before turning toward the purple-faced head of the house. "I was exonerated, and as I am Harry's godfather, I will be bringing him to stay with me."
"I-" Vernon started, but was cut off quickly by Sirius.
"have no say in the matter," Sirius completed the man's sentence. "And you would be wise to remember it. I spent twelve years in prison...it...it changes a man. I have a much shorter fuse than I once did." As though on cue, Sirius twitched his neck, giving him a distinctly unstable look. Anything Uncle Vernon might have wanted to say was gone now. "Go. Collect your things."
Harry didn't have to be told twice. He went to his room to grab his trunk and Hedwig's cage. Hermione, bless her heart, had performed a spell before they left Hogwarts, that enlarged the space in his trunk and allowed him to fit the entirety of his belongings in it, not that there was much. The spell wasn't perfect, and poor Hermione tormented herself on it during the train-ride back, upset that it was only about a quarter of the space she'd intended. Still, it was a very advanced spell and it was definitely enough to fit his meager belongings.
Once Harry was downstairs, Uncle Vernon pulled his keys from his pocket, fumbling with the padlock that kept Harry's trunk from being opened. Under the very unnerving gaze of Sirius, he undid the lock and stepped back. Harry looked at the Dursleys once more. He couldn't help the light feeling in his chest. He was never, ever going to stay with them again, and it felt amazing.
Harry dropped to his knees, retching hard. Thankfully, Aunt Petunia had been serving food that he wasn't particularly fond of all day and he hadn't eaten much. Still, dry-heaving was not his idea of a good time.
"I did warn you," Sirius patted Harry's back. It was true, Sirius told him that Apparition was not among the more pleasant methods of travel, and that the first time was always the worst. "You alright?"
"I'm good," Harry said. He stood up, looking at his surroundings. There was a long, poorly lit hall before him, and a staircase nearby leading up to another floor. The place was huge. There were stacks of boxes across halls, some areas looked clean and others still had thick dust layers. There was certainly work to be done. Several rather nice paintings were hung throughout, though one about halfway down the hall was covered with a sheet.
"I hadn't been here in a long time," Sirius commented as Harry appraised the home. "I managed to get some of it, but there was a lot of work to do…there still is."
"I can-" Harry started, but they were interrupted by the appearance of a wrinkly skinned, bulbous nosed house-elf. Much like the old Malfoy servant, Dobby, this one was dressed in some kind of sack. There was a major contrast in demeanor, however. Even when Dobby was stressed-out or upset, he still had an excitable air about him. This elf had deep frown lines that left Harry wondering if the muscles used for smiling were even there anymore.
"Master Black," the elf said, gesturing toward them and a somehow deeper scowl forming across his already unpleasant face. "How unfortunate that you're back...and with company."
"Bugger off and clean something!" Sirius shouted at the elf, startling Harry. The elf turned and left, muttering something to himself. Harry gave his godfather a questioning look about the rude outburst. "He came with the house...been with the family for a long time. He's always got something to say."
"Right," Harry said evenly. There definitely seemed to be some bad blood between the two. He was surprised to see a house elf behave that way, but it was equally surprising to hear his godfather take such a tone toward his own house-elf.
"Anyway, you can leave your stuff there. Kreacher will take it upstairs later, I cleaned a room for you. I was thinking maybe we could get something to eat...are you hungry?" Sirius asked.
"Yeah." Harry was hungry. He had a long-standing tradition of not being fed very much when he was with the Dursleys. Sirius nodded and lead Harry deeper into the house. They passed the covered painting and went downstairs.
Downstairs they cut through a dining room and went into the kitchen, where Sirius began looking in various cupboards and a refrigerator. Some muggle inventions, it seemed, were just transcendent. As Sirius foraged for their meal, Harry took to inspecting the dining room.
It too was recently cleaned, and not very thoroughly. There were streaks on parts of the table where the thick layer of dust wasn't fully removed. The tops of various paintings and portraits were covered in the same dust. Harry heard the telling creaks and groans as Sirius opened and closed things. Aunt Petunia would have had a coronary. Harry couldn't help smiling at the thought.
"Well, I think I forgot to get Kreacher to do some grocery shopping. You maybe want to go out?" Sirius had a pained expression, obviously concerned about what Harry would think about the lack of preparedness.
"Sounds great!" Harry exclaimed. He sounded more excited than he'd intended to, and it brought a smile to Sirius. Harry always stayed home when the Dursleys went to eat at a restaurant. Harry had been out to The Three Broomsticks and The Leaky Cauldron several times, but they were obviously pubs and just not the same as eating in a restaurant.
"Alright, I know a pretty god Italian place just a few minute's walk from here." They each grabbed a coat and headed out, Harry following Sirius. It was dark outside now and they walked briskly. There were clouds overhead threatening rain, and while it hadn't started yet, they wanted to be inside when it did.
The restaurant looked nice. The inside was comfortably dim, the walls paneled with a light wood and brick that lent to its cozy atmosphere. Many of the tables were filled by couples enjoying a date night. They were lead to a red booth by an attractive hostess who promised that they would be helped soon.
Harry sat on one side, his godfather opposite him. The man really was looking a lot better. His cheeks were fuller, his teeth straighter and whiter, and his eyes had lost much of the haunted look that was present the last time they were together. Before they could say anything, the waitress came. She was a tall, olive skinned brunette with a bubbly smile.
"Good evening," she greeted them. "Can I get anything started for you?"
"I'll...uhhh..." Sirius thumbed through the drink menu and looked completely lost. Their waitress, Sofia, smiled broadly at him.
"Been a while since you had a drink?" she asked. Sirius looked back at her with a sheepish grin. It had been a while. He seemed to recover and replied.
"It sure has," he said. He winked at her and added, "I'll take one of whatever you like. You seem a trustworthy sort."
"Oh," she laughed a little, nodding. "One of what I like, coming right up. And for you?" she turned to Harry, her smile still wide.
"I...er," Harry stammered. The Dursleys never took him to a restaurant, so his familiarity with muggle drinks was, at a minimum, sub-par. He'd kill for a butterbeer, but knew better than to think they had that. "Same for me."
"Is that right?" she squinted her eyes at him. Sirius laughed out and waved his hand as though to dismiss his request.
"You'll have to excuse him," Sirius said, taking Sofia's attention again. She continued her guarded look, trying to determine if Sirius had a habit of allowing the boy to get alcoholic drinks. "He thinks he's hilarious. He'll take a pop, please."
"A pop?" she laughed again and Sirius sighed.
"A soda, whatever the cool kids are calling it these days." It was another area Sirius had some trouble with. Slang had evolved since his imprisonment and he seemed a little old-fashioned now. He was picking it up quickly, but old habits die hard. She left to get their drinks.
"What'd I do wrong?" Harry asked while they were again alone.
"You're not old enough for alcohol, my boy." Sirius smiled at him. "Not in the muggle world, anyway. It's not legal."
"Oh, and you were getting alcohol," Harry nodded in understanding. "I never got to go to restaurants with the Dursleys."
"Yeah," Sirius' face turned to a scowl briefly. After learning how the Dursleys treated Harry, Sirius had been irate. He'd only just managed to maintain his composure when picking Harry up and was determined not to allow the boy back into their care at all. "You'll not need to worry about that again, not if I can help it."
"Here you go," Sofia said as she rapidly walked to their table, sliding a tall fruity beverage with a twirling straw in front of Sirius and a fizzing soda in front of Harry.
"Wow!" Sirius exclaimed, obviously not expecting the drink to look as it did.
"You did ask for what I liked," she said with a mischievous grin.
"I suppose I walked into that," he said, then taking a sip. "Not bad."
"What can I get you to eat?" she asked. Sirius ordered a plate of the Italian steak and fries while Harry got a simpler plate of spaghetti. He wasn't feeling adventurous quite yet.
Sirius sipped away at his fruit drink and Harry saw the man loosen up a little more. He wasn't drunk or anything like Harry had seen on various shows and movies, or like Uncle Vernon. He just seemed a bit more relaxed.
"So, what have you been up to all this time?" Harry asked. It felt like ages before Sirius came to get him.
"Well," Sirius paused, thinking where to start. "I had to go to the Ministry and get all of my things in order. Get the house back, my bank accounts restarted. Got a pretty nice settlement from the Ministry for imprisoning me wrongfully, too. Your friend, Hermione, got her parents to do some work on my teeth." Sirius smiled broadly, showing off the handiwork. "They're muggle tooth doctors, did you know? Anyway, a lot of running around, getting things in order. Did some work on the house, but as you saw, there is a lot of cleaning left to do."
"I can help with that," Harry said. He'd never imagined himself volunteering to clean house, but he cared about Sirius' wellbeing and knew the man could use a hand. Plus, it never hurt to be useful. A part of him still felt nervous that Sirius would find it all too much and send him back to the Dursleys.
"Here you go," Sofia appeared out of nowhere again. She seemed to fly around the restaurant. She set their food in front of them. "How's that pop?" she asked, emphasizing the old-fashioned term with a big smile again.
"You'll have to excuse me, I was wrongfully imprisoned for twelve years," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm still learning how to be civilized."
"Oh?" she gave a surprised look and then inspected him again. "Well, in that case the drink's on me." She gave him a quick wink and turned, off to her next task. Sirius watched her walk away, her hips bouncing side to side as she went.
"You fancy her?" Harry asked, smiling. It seemed so juvenile to him, watching them flirt back and forth. He was glad to see Sirius attempting to put the past behind him. Moving on seemed the healthy thing to do. Sirius simply laughed and changed the subject.
They ate on, catching up and making plans for what they'd do as far as cleaning the house up, though Sirius insisted that Harry needed to start studying for the upcoming year. Harry couldn't help but smile inwardly at how very parental it sounded.
When Harry's head finally hit the pillow, in his bed, in his own room, he was exhausted. But, for the first time outside of school, he went to bed happy and looking forward to the next day. It was very new, but he felt sure he was going to like living with Sirius.