I know I've been yelling about a certain "Sad Sirius Fic" on the Discord chat, however…I came up with an awful, yet wonderful idea that needed to be written down immediately. So, this fic is going to be titled unofficially "Sad Sirius Fic Part 1.5" only because it's kind of on the same lines as Empty Nights, though it really takes place at the very beginning of TFF.

Also, I'd like you all to assume that Harry told Archie everything that happened to her the day he came back from Hermione's house. In TFF, this happens the day before Archie is about to go off to the Darien Gap community, which is technically two weeks since they both get home. Personally, I feel that it would make more sense for Harry to tell Archie right away for the pure reason of getting it off her chest, plus it works better for what I have planned here :)

Archie heard the distinct crack of the Floo, followed by what sounded like a stumble and an annoyed huff. Grinning, he nodded at Tom the barkeep, politely excusing himself before turning around to face his cousin.

The Leaky Cauldron was mostly empty of its denizens, the exception being a disheveled pair slouched over a table in the far corner, snoring loudly. Pale morning light drifted in through the grimy windows, highlighting the specks of dust that danced in slow, lazy circles. The tables were still crowded with dirty cups and plates from the night before, and a sour, stale smell permeated the pub.

Definitely not a place for the Black Heir to be spending his Saturday morning, thought Archie, as he stepped closer to the fireplace on his right. A slight figure, in loose-fitting clothes––that were definitely from his closet––stood with her back towards him, brushing off the coat of ash that covered her unruly dark hair.

Archie cleared his throat.

Harry tensed, her hand immediately twitching towards her pocket for her wand as she turned around. Archie watched with open concern, keeping his empty hands visible in front of him. He hadn't missed the flash of panic that lit up his cousin's bright green eyes. She was in one piece at least. He would have heard otherwise. But as to what condition her mental state was in...well, her reaction had made it rather obvious. Harry relaxed slightly, tucking her wand back into the pocket of her jeans. She shrugged her shoulders, brushing off what had just happened in one swift movement, and gave him an embarrassed smile; just a small, careful turn of the lips, as if she wasn't quite sure what reaction to expect.

Archie just stared. His eyes swept over her, taking note of the dark circles under her eyes, barely concealed by her round glasses; the sharpness of her cheekbones; the paleness of her skin, as if she had been buried under a pile of books in the library for the past few months.

"Harry?" It was just her name, but so much was said in that one word. All the fears, the worry...summarized in a question.

The composed, blank expression that Harry had perfected so well over the years, faltered. Her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. She suddenly looked years older.

Archie felt his breath catch in his throat. He took one step closer, blinking rapidly, and opened his arms. Harry didn't roll her eyes before hugging him. She didn't cross her arms stubbornly, muttering something about how 'No one needed this many hugs before ten in the morning'. Instead, she seemed to almost collapse into his embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around him, burying her face in his shoulder. Archie pulled her even closer, a part of his brain acknowledging the feel of her ribs underneath her shirt, while also listening to her laboured breaths and beating heart. Clenching his jaw together––he couldn't exactly start crying in a pub in the middle of Muggle London––he held her until she pulled away.

Harry's face showed no signs of tears, though there was a vulnerability that Archie hadn't seen before. That, along with a stubborn tilt to her chin and a tightness in her jaw. Harry had never been one to show emotions, and was probably not pleased with herself for her momentary lapse in control. Whatever had happened, must have shaken her to the core.

Archie knew the perfect way to make everything better. At least for the moment. Before Harry could pull too far away, he leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.

Harry scowled, rubbing the spot with the back of her hand as if he had passed on something contagious.

"I see you missed me just as much," drawled Archie, not even bothering to hide how pleased he was at the look of murder on her face.

"You're not getting anymore hugs," retorted Harry, the lost-look in her eyes disappearing, replaced with annoyance. But there was no heat behind her words.

"We'll see about that." Archie hooked an arm through hers, pulling her back towards the fireplace. A painfully determined look had settled on Harry's face, and Archie knew that whatever had occurred in the past couple months he was about to find out in the next few minutes. Harry wasn't one to delay, and he had a feeling she needed to get everything off her chest, no matter how well she tried to hide it. "Let's go home, cuz."

Archie sat numbly, watching Harry wipe away the tears on her shirt sleeve, trying to process everything he had heard. Harry's eyes were still rimmed in red, and she sniffed before putting on her glasses. The pained look in her eyes faded and she moved to stand up from the bed. Archie reached out, taking her hand and pulling her back.

He couldn't understand why Harry had to be the one to suffer. None of it made sense...except it also sort of did. She had always had the more difficult end of the bargain, but it was finally sinking in how bad she really had it. She was a magnet for trouble, and along with her newfound sense of altruism, Archie knew she wasn't so much as blindly being dragged, but more like reluctantly catapulting into...everything. What had she done to deserve this though? And why was he so far away that he had to hear about it weeks after the fact. It wasn't fair, and it only made him feel more helpless.

"Wait."

Harry paused, raising one eyebrow in question. Archie couldn't help noting the darkness under her eyes again. And while she had definitely filled out some since her ordeal, she didn't seem to be sleeping well.

"Would you like me to brew you a Sleeping Draught?"

Harry winced. "Is it that obvious?"

Archie frowned, studying his cousin's face. "A bit, yes. Though they might not notice since they're worried about...me..." His voice trailed off, an uncomfortable weight settling in his stomach. He felt like an imposter. The concern directed at him was undeserving, pointless. Harry was the one who needed their family the most. But instead, she had to suffer in silence. What would they do when they found out the truth one day? Archie shook himself mentally. They wouldn't find out. Not if things worked out. And they had to work out. Still, he shouldn't have said that out loud, and just as he was about to open his mouth, Harry sank back down onto the bed.

"It's okay, Arch," she said quietly. "It's not their fault. We knew this––"

"No," he broke in, losing the tight hold he had maintained on his emotions. "We didn't know, Harry! How could we have guessed that anything like this would happen?"

Harry didn't respond, staring at her hands instead. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Should we stop?"

"Do you want to?" Archie held his breath, not sure what he wanted her to say. While on the one hand he would give up the entire ruse in a heartbeat to keep Harry safe, he couldn't help think of everything they would lose. But in the end, no matter what, even if he had to take the long route to becoming a healer, Harry came first.

Harry let out a long sigh, shaking her head. "We've gotten so far. We're so close, Archie. It seems foolish to give up now."

"But at the cost of your life?" Archie argued. He understood her point, even agreed with it. But he couldn't lose her just to fulfill his dreams. "Is it worth that? Cause it isn't for me."

"This won't happen again," she replied, a firm note to her voice.

"Oh, did Riddle grow a conscience in the last month or so?" Archie couldn't hide the sarcasm that laced his words. "Nice to know he won't be interfering at Hogwarts or in your life anymore."

"I'm better prepared now," insisted Harry, though she didn't sound very confident.

"But that's just it. You shouldn't have to be prepared for anything."

Harry sat in silence for a while, before finally nodding slowly. "You're right, Arch." When she looked up, there was a determined spark in her bright green eyes. "But it's how things are." She raised a hand to stop him from interrupting. "If we switched now, what would that accomplish? I'm better equipped to handle this than you." She shrugged apologetically, but Archie wasn't offended. She was completely right, in her usual frank way, but that didn't mean he was happy with any of this.

"If you're sure..."

"I am," Harry replied, her voice stronger and more assured than it had been before. At Archie's skeptical and worried look, she added, "It'll get better. I'll get better."

"What about the Sleeping Draught?" asked Archie. He didn't think it was a great idea, especially because potions like that didn't solve the underlying problem, and were only temporary treatments for traumatic experiences. But Harry needed to rest, and he could watch her for the next couple weeks, make sure she didn't take too much or a stronger dose than necessary.

Harry just shook her head. "I'm fine. Really. Anyway, mum and dad will just think I've been staying up reading potions journals." A small smile played on her lips. "Besides, I can brew one myself," she added, crossing her arms, looking greatly offended that Archie would even suggest that she be incapable of brewing such a simple potion.

Archie rolled his eyes, playing into the lightness the conversation had switched into. "Sue me for trying to be a gentleman."

Harry grinned, a wicked spark in her eye. "Oh, I shall. With Percy Weasley by my side, you'll be as poor as a pauper when we're through with you."

Archie scoffed. "I think Hermione would be a perfect match for Percy."

"Now that would be something to see," mused Harry, as she got up from the bed and made her way towards the door. "Let's go see what pranks our dads have set up for us."

"Harry's sleeping over!" announced Archie, dragging a very enthusiastic Harry into the Potter's kitchen.

Sirius glanced up from the pie crust he was rolling out. Archie's face was lit up, the darkness that seemed to haunt his stark grey eyes completely gone now. His cheeks were rosy, his hair a bit tousled, and he was smiling broadly. The tightness that had clasped around Sirius's chest for the past month melted away. But, he couldn't help the tiny pang of jealously that replaced it.

Sirius had always thought he shared a special bond with Archie. It was a bond tied in grief and loneliness. A bond built on pain and love. They had come so close to losing each other, but they were all the other had. Things had changed over the last few years and Sirius couldn't understand for the life of him where he had gone wrong. What had he done to push his son so far away? He only wished that Archie would confide in him, would let him in. Did Archie fear judgement? Sirius highly doubted that he was worthy enough to dole out judgement, especially considering the antics he got up to during his Hogwarts years. And it was never how their relationship worked anyway. Yes, Sirius would reprimand his son if he had done something truly terrible, but in this case, terrible things had been done to him. Whatever details Archie had left out that night, he had shared with Harry. Sirius had no doubt about that. He knew the two of them were close, but he couldn't stop the sour taste that jealousy left in his mouth.

Still...it was better if Archie talked about what had happened with someone. And if that someone was Harry...well, Sirius would have to accept that. Eventually, Archie would open up. Lily was right after all; Archie needed time and he needed to heal. And in many cases, children, or rather teenagers, felt closer to their counterparts. Sirius had to agree that while Harry could be harsh with her criticism, she had a good heart. She knew how to soften her words with the right amount of affection when needed. And maybe that was what Archie wanted. What Archie needed.

Sirius wiped his hands on his apron, turning around to widely smile at his niece. "Happy to be home?"

Harry nodded, smiling tiredly as she gave Remus a hug. "Yes, it's nice to be back."

Must be the time difference, thought Sirius, as he watched Archie pull Harry into a chair, before jumping up to help Remus set the table. It was difficult to believe that just yesterday, Archie had stepped off the Hogwarts Express without the usual fanfare––he hadn't run into Sirius' arms like the previous years. And while Sirius attributed it to his son growing up and shying away from showing so much physical affection towards his father, he knew that in reality it was because Archie was exhausted.

Sirius could still recall that night in the Hospital Wing like it was yesterday. He had never seen his son so small and vulnerable, in clothing that hung so loosely against his body. He couldn't forget the hollowness in his cheeks, the blank look in his eyes, the roughness of his voice. When Archie had finally fallen asleep, he had sat there feeling empty, watching the slow rise and fall of his son's chest, making sure he was still there, still breathing. To come so close to losing the last part of her he had left...it had been too much. The following weeks had been difficult, but he had kept it together only because he knew that whatever he felt was nothing compared to what Archie had gone through.

Mentally shaking himself, Sirius slipped the pie into the oven and pulled off his apron, just as Lily swept into the kitchen.

"James! Harry is home!"

Harry turned around in her seat and Sirius watched as a small smile formed on her lips. "Hi, mum."

Lily wrapped her daughter up into a hug, just as James came running in with a giggling Addy sitting atop his shoulders.

Sirius smiled at the little family reunion. It was nice to have everyone together again, even if it was only for a short time before Archie left for his apprenticeship. Speaking of his son...he watched as Archie slowly sidestepped over to where he stood. Sirius raised an eyebrow in question, but Archie just responded by throwing his arms around him and squeezing him tightly. Surprised, Sirius returned the hug just as enthusiastically, questions running through his head. "What is this for?" he asked.

"Oh." Archie pulled away, smiling teasingly. "I didn't want you to feel sad because all the attention is focused on Harry tonight."

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed defensively. "I do not need to be centre of attention."

Remus failed rather spectacularly at hiding a snort. Sirius glared back at him. "I'll have you all know that I'm perfectly fine with today being Harry Day."

"Harry Day?" Archie wrinkled his nose in disapproval. "Not one of your best, dad."

James shook his head and patted Sirius on the shoulder. "It's okay, just a side effect of getting old."

Addy nodded, a very stern expression on her chubby little face. She reached down from James' shoulders and patted Sirius on the head. "It okay, it okay," she said.

Sirius sighed, feeling light and happy inside. Yes, it was definitely good to have everyone home again.

Archie lit the candle with the tip of his wand, watching as the wick caught the flame and drew it out into a sharp wavering peak. He placed the glass cover on top, letting the light fill his room.

"Thanks," Harry smiled, an apologetic tilt to her mouth. She sat on the edge of his bed, looking much calmer than she had a couple minutes ago.

When Archie had opened the door to his darkened room, he had felt Harry stiffen immediately beside him. The sun had slowly sunk below the horizon, the sky a beautiful deep indigo, but the moon stayed hidden behind a curtain of clouds. Despite the open window, his room remained in shadow, and when Archie heard Harry let out a deep breath, he had immediately fumbled for his wand, pulling it out and murmuring Lumos under his breath.

"Do you have your pyjamas with you?"

Harry's eyes lit up at that, and she grinned, pulling out something from her pocket. She waved her wand over it and it expanded into regular-sized pyjamas that were distinctly Harry's. "I've missed wearing these," she said softly.

Archie forced himself to smile back, but he felt sick inside. He couldn't imagine having to sleep in robes every single night. The idea itself made him uncomfortable, yet Harry continued to sacrifice so much for this ruse. He didn't think he could ever truly repay her for everything she had done and was continuing to do.

Harry fell asleep almost immediately. Archie watched, curled onto his side, as Harry's chest rose and fell, her breathing steady, her face relaxed. She looked at peace; any sign of what she had gone through completely gone. The light from the candle danced lazily, and it wasn't long before Archie felt his eyes begin to droop and sleep stole him away.

He woke to a sound. The clouds must have parted while he slept; his room was now bathed in pale moonlight. The blanket was bunched up around him and he couldn't see Harry for a moment. He felt her move suddenly though, a sharp jerk, and then a muffled moan. Sitting up, he pushed the blankets aside. Harry was curled up into a ball facing him, sweat gleamed on her brow, tears lined her face.

"Harry?" He reached out slowly, but Harry flinched, moving back and almost off the bed.

"N-no, no...stop," she gasped, starting to shake, her one hand clenched close to her chest with the other. "I...w-won't...you can't t-take it..."

Tears fell from her face, her breaths came out in short bursts. She's panicking, Archie immediately thought. And he reached out again, grasping Harry's shoulders and shaking her lightly. "Harry, wake up! It's just a––" She fought him, twisting and turning, moving even further away from him. He grabbed her before she fell off the bed and she still fought, tears shining on her face, her breaths coming out in gasps now.

"No...please..."

"Harry, it's okay, it's okay." He pushed back her hair, murmuring softly, wishing he could hold her close. But common sense told him that that would make it worse. She needed to breathe. She needed to feel safe, not trapped. Her eyes opened suddenly, widening in fear for a second, before she recognized him. The fight seemed to drain out of her, yet she still shook badly, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"It's okay. Breathe through your mouth now," he said, taking a deep breath to show her. He listened to her breathe in, a sob catching in her throat. She let it out in a rush. "Again, but slower." He pulled her close now, feeling the erratic beat of her heart against his chest. Her shaking slowly stopped, her breathing matching his, her heart rate steady. He rubbed her back soothingly, and they lay there for a few minutes in silence.

Harry eventually pulled away, wiping the tears off her face with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," she said softly.

Archie almost rolled his eyes. Of course she would apologize for that. He leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. "You okay?"

She sighed, closing her eyes. "Yeah. It was just a nightmare." She clenched her fist again, the same hand that Archie remembered used to hold her suppressor ring.

He reached out and took her closed fist into his hands and slowly pulled her fingers away. "I won't let them hurt you anymore," he whispered softly, knowing his words meant nothing, yet still feeling the need to say it, to assure her it would be okay. Cause if it came to it, he would set the world on fire to make sure she was safe. The look in Harry's eyes said she knew what he meant and she gave him a small wavering smile of gratitude.

"I know I don't say this enough," she started, her voice cracking slightly. "And I know I haven't been the best cousin I could be––" She raised a shaking hand to stop him from interrupting. "But...I really don't know what I'd do without you Arch." Tears shone in her eyes. "And I don't mean just the ruse either. It's nice to have someone who knows though." Her voice fell, until it was so quiet and small that Archie had to lean in closer to catch her last words. "I don't feel so alone."

Archie didn't know what to say. His throat felt tight and he blinked back tears. Swallowing past the painful lump in his throat, he pulled her closer, tucking her head under his chin. She wasn't alone, not now at least. He couldn't protect her like he wanted, but he needed her to know she had someone to turn to; a little light in the darkness that was her life now. And he would do whatever possible to make sure that light was never extinguished, until it filled her world completely.

"I love you, cuz," he whispered into her hair.

He felt himself drift off again, his last thoughts sifting through his memory and catching hold of something his father had mentioned briefly before. Some method of communication that involved a mirror...he'd have to remember to ask his father tomorrow.

Sirius sighed, scratching his head absentmindedly as he stared at Archie's bedroom door. It wouldn't hurt to check, he told himself, and anyway, he would be very quiet and make sure not to wake them. It was almost two in the morning now, and Sirius couldn't go back to sleep. In truth, he had thought it would get better. The last month had brought back memories he didn't cherish––of sleepless nights, sitting in an armchair in a darkened room, a half empty glass of Firewhisky in his hand. He hadn't succumbed of course. Not this time. But sleep had become something of a luxury. He thought that with Archie back, he could start feeling somewhat like himself again.

Last night had been difficult. Sirius had woken up to a panic. His chest had felt heavy, constricted, pulse racing under his skin. It's just a panic attack, he had repeated over and over again, rocking back and forth, desperately trying to force air into his lungs. But the shaking picked up the second his mind drifted to Archie. Was he okay? he remembered asking himself as he scrambled out of bed, pulled on a robe, and stumbled out into the darkened hallway. The light at the bottom of the stairs had stopped him in his tracks.

By the time he had made his way to the kitchen, Sirius had felt a little calmer. Archie hadn't had much to eat the night before; he was probably just hungry. And that was okay. He needed to eat more, get back his strength. He had found Archie, leaning against the kitchen sink, drinking deeply from a glass of water, his face wet as if he'd just washed it. Archie froze for a second, his eyes widening ever so slightly.

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you dad," he had said, a sheepish expression on his face. "Just got a little thirsty." He raised his glass to show that it was already empty.

Sirius had smiled, sighing internally with relief. "Would you like some milk instead? I was going to warm up a cup."

He had stopped himself from tucking Archie back into bed, settling with just a quick kiss on the forehead before watching as his son disappeared back into his room, a warm mug of milk in hand. A thought had crept into his mind as Sirius settled down to sleep again; a little spark of concern that he had promptly ignored, but that had taken shape in the kitchen at the sight of Archie desperately gulping down water: Was it really thirst or a nightmare that woke Archie up?

Now, standing before Archie's door, Sirius realized it could have been both. Hadn't Poppy and Snape said that Archie had resorted to drinking potions from his potions kit to stay alive? The idea made him sick with horror. He didn't think he could ever fully understand what Archie had gone through. There was no one who could. Which made it so much worse. Sirius bit his lip, breathing in through his nose to steady himself. He just wanted his son back. He just wanted everything to be normal again. But they were so far from normal now that it wasn't even in the realm of probability.

Shaking his head, Sirius turned the doorknob, holding his breath as the door creaked open. His eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room. Two small bundles lay huddled under the covers, silver shards of light slanting through the open windows and onto the bed. A light breeze rustled the dark green curtains. They waved lazily in a very snake-like way that was not magically orchestrated, but Sirius found amusing just the same.

When he stepped into the room, Sirius found his feet suddenly glued to the floor. His breath caught in his throat, and then an ache swept through his chest, sudden and sharp––a memory, so wholesome and perfect, yet bittersweet––reminding him of Diana, and those nights so long ago, the diagnosis hanging over their heads like a storm cloud, as they stood in the exact same spot gazing in silence.

Just like when they were children, he thought with a fond smile. Archie slept sprawled on his stomach, his head resting on half of Harry's pillow, an arm thrown across her chest pulling her close. Harry's head was titled towards Archie's, her dark, tossled waves almost brushing against his. Her one hand rested on his arm in a way that made Sirius think she had been trying to push Archie away but had fallen asleep before managing to. They looked at peace together. Archie's lips had a shadow of a smile, and even Harry–their serious, levelheaded girl–looked vulnerable and young, as if sleep washed away all signs of aging.

Sirius made his way over to the bed, pulling the blankets snugly around his son and niece. The wind had picked up, sweeping against the house and making the window frames rattle loudly. The light from the candle on the beside table bobbed up and down, casting long shadows against the wall. Carefully, he kissed them both, letting his hand trail through Archie's hair for the briefest of seconds. He watched as their chests rose and fell in synch, blinking back tears. It didn't matter what distance separated the two cousins, they remained just as close, if not closer. It reminded him of himself; Harry was to Archie like James and Remus were to Sirius. And while it hurt that things weren't exactly the way they used to be, everything would be fine in the end. He had to believe it would.

He had spent so many nights as a child, in this same room, wondering how much worse his life could get before getting better. How many nights had he cried himself to sleep, lying in his four-poster bed in his Gryffindor dormitory, wishing...hoping...that maybe his family would accept him, maybe they would change their ways, no matter how ingrained those ideals were. Or if not his parents, at least his little brother. How many times had he stayed up till the early hours of the morning, exhausted from pretending he was okay, that it didn't bother him that he had no one but his friends, that he couldn't explain to his family how and why he felt this way because it fell on deaf ears and led to nothing but endless pain. Even so...he had confided in his friends when no one else was left. And while Sirius knew he wasn't like his mother or his father, and that if Archie wanted to talk to him, he'd accept him with open arms full of love and understanding, empty of harsh judgement, it was okay...It was okay for Archie to have Harry. Yes, it hurt to accept that. It felt like someone was wringing out his heart, letting the blood drip slowly from their fingers onto the floor, but he would not be like his parents. He would not turn his son away just because there were things he didn't feel comfortable talking about.

It was then that Sirius noticed the tears falling down his face. He stifled a gasp trying to control himself, his vision now blurry, his son just a softened image in the dim light. He heard the bed creak, and a murmur. Blinking, Sirius watched as Harry stirred in her sleep. She didn't wake, but shifted onto her side, her back towards Archie now, face lit by the moon. Archie, still fast asleep, took the opportunity to take up more of Harry's pillow, his arm still wrapped around her pulling her close as if to keep her from falling off the bed.

A calmness descended on Sirius. The claw clamped around his heart loosened, the worry that was constantly present––still there but muted, distant––pushed to the edges of his mind. For a second, he felt her there, shoulder pressed against his, a reassuring warmth that he wasn't alone in this. He knew what she would say. Trust him, Sirius. Trust him to come to you when he needs you. Sirius closed his eyes, willing those words to wrap around himself. Everything will be okay in the end. You'll see.

And there we have it. My long awaited Sad Sirius fic. Still not a 100% sure about that ending, but I have been trying to finish this fic for ages, and this was the best I could do before I decided to abandon it all together. Special thanks to Gretal (booksandbreadcrumbs) and Sophia (nuwanda) for letting me tease them constantly with little snippets. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you (I'm not actually sorry), but that was nothing compared to this whole thing, so I was honestly just preparing you like a good friend would. Also, huge thanks to the Discord chat for keeping me motivated to write, and just being a great place to discuss all things Rigel Black.

(Also, would like to add that I do not ship Harry and Archie. I just wanted to highlight their beautiful platonic relationship. I seriously live for these moments because they're so raw and pure. It makes my heart hurt. So of course I had to make everyone hurt.)