AN: sorry this is so short! im awful at dialogue and I had writer block, the next one will be longer i swear!

(I am cross-posting this on AO3 under the same name for those who prefer AO3)

"So… who are you?" Asks Harry Potter after a long, long moment of silence.

Sirius just stares back at him, the ghost of his dead best friend's son has marked his transformation 'cool', and asked who he was. He honestly doesn't know how to react, which was possibly why he is doing nothing but staring at the pale figure before him with one arm outstretched, one finger pointing towards Harry. He would blame his more than a decade long vacation in the soul sucking destination known as Azkaban, but that made him more prone to fits of extreme emotion, not the low empathetic, "what the fuck".

First of all, Harry is dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Harry is dead. He is a ghost, in front of him. (Maybe if Sirius repeated it enough, it would seem real, it would seem tangible, a something he could actually predict, unlike the way he was framed as a traitor with no trial.)

Harry is dead. (His plan didn't seem to be working.)

The baby boy he'd transfigured a teddy bear for, the almost toddler in his arms chewing on his long hair. Babbling nonsense while Sirius pretended it was an actual conversation.

("Baaaaahahabahhh", "of course, Harry, I utterly agree, your Dad is an idiot sometimes". (This was the time that James forgot to warm up Harry's milk before feeding him. Harry has scowled in a way that was all Lily and looked indignant in a way that was all James).

This boy is dead, and Sirius didn't know. He doesn't know when it happened. The boy in front of him seem too young to even attend Hogwarts, but his eyes seem too old for the young body. Old enough for death. (Maybe that's what happens when you die, you become mature and wise and kept you with a mind too big for your body). (And Merlin look at him, he was 34, and spouting poetical nonsense, even if it is kinda appropriate for the situation. Well, it might not be, he has lost most sense of social awareness, so he can't say for certain.)

So, Harry is dead and Sirius doesn't the how or the why or the who, and by Merlin, does he want to murder the person who did this, because this was Harry, The-Boy-Who-Could-Have-Been-His, the boy could have been raised by Sirius, instead of whoever. (Who obviously hadn't done a good job if he was dead.)

It turns out repeating the thing that shocks you won't help you come to terms with it, it will make you ready to sob and breakdown and go into a emotional breakdown, and perhaps start saying the thing you are repeating out loud, which will make you seem like a lunatic, which is what Sirius is trying to avoid. And well, he's already had his fill of breakdowns in life, so he stops his mantra of "oh god Harry is dead, oh god oh god oh god oh god Harry is dead", as soon as he realises it's happening.

Second is the absolute indignation because he is a mass murder! A serial killer! His name and face is on multiple, nay, thousands of posters, that are everywhere, in newspapers too! How on earth, does the boy need to ask, 'who are you?'

Sirius Black has earned himself quite the reputation for his sudden onslaught of the Blacks infamous mania. Dear old Bella also had it, (which wasn't that much of a surprise considering the cesspool that's was the Black's lineage), but that had developed years ago with the regular onslaught of the Cruciatus Curse from Voldemort, because of course Bellatrix Black had chosen her side years ago. (And it was not with the light).

So while Bellatrix was more crazed and violent, she was more like the old rottweiler who you were used to snapping about your heels and trying to pinch a finger, and Narcissa the poised poodle ready with a snap of the jaws to teach and defend but never attack, and Sirius the pitbull trained to be good, until it snapped suddenly and attacked your children. (Of course Andromeda and Regulus are always conveniently forgotten, for what were completely different reasons).

Sirius is the Traitor. Sirius was the man who destroyed the young happy mother and father of Harry Potter. (For that is all History remembered them for, parents, lives cruelty cut short in the war, they forgot that they were far more than just martyrs, far far more). Sirius was hated.

But Harry Potter didn't know who he was.

Sirius Black has come here to confront the real traitor and expose him, to unleash revenge for all the years he had been practically tortured in Azkaban while the rat lazes around Scott-free munching on crackers, he was her for revenge and not much else, Azkaban has seriously skewed his priorities, so being exonerated wasn't at the top of his to-do list, taking revenge for twelve years in Azkaban, (after all, soul sucking depression does nothing but exasperate a history of the Black Madness).

And in front of him is a ghost. The boy who he half forgot about when trapped in a vortex of rage that never allowed him to see past his own deluded sight.

"Harry Potter?" Is the only words that escape him now.

"No, I'm Harry Potter", the boy grins cheekily, "you have to be at least dead to even pretend to be me!" He frowns guilty as the homeless looking man starts to hyperventilate, "Right, sorry! I was told I shouldn't joke about that sort of stuff just yet, could freak people out. So, who are you?"

"Sirius Black," He chokes out. Merlin, he hasn't been this… emotional in months, (well, emotions other than anger).

"Oh," Harry looks kind of disappointed. "You're the convicted felon hell-bent on murdering me? I'm very sorry that your plans have been disrupted, seeing as I'm already dead." He floats closer, eyes peering carefully at him behind glasses, "are you sure you're that murderer? You don't look like a murderer, or a traitor, more of a… homeless man who has lived in the forest for a couple of months."

Sirius' mouth opens wide, he's not really sure what he's surprised at, the insult, or the lack

of belief that he could be a killer, "I… shouldn't you be angry with me?"

Harry nods slowly, "I think so, but I also faintly remember you when I was a baby, only vaguely but, I don't think you were the type to sell out my parents. But, for some reason people don't tend to believe the memories from a ghost's childhood. Do you wanna go to the kitchens? You look starving and I like watching the house elves cook".

Sirius nodd numbly and follows Harry to the kitchens.

"I found the kitchens by accident over the summer, I was flying through the corridors and accidentally went through the wall- oh I don't actually know if there's a door…" Harry abruptly stops, pausing to think.

"There is," Sirius says, just… tickle the pear".

"Tickle the pear! Of course, that's just obvious now I think of it," Sirius opens to ask how exactly that's obvious?, but Harry continues, "you should probably turn back into a dog, I think the elves may rat you out but I'm not sure".

Rat him out? Rat? Rat! "That rat!" Sirius exclaims, somewhat ferally, "Ron's rat! It's Pettigrew! He's not dead! He hid as a rat!"

Harry's face lights up, "Oh! That would explain why his name is on the Map!" The Weasley twins had shown him the map, asking if he had found any more passages as a ghost, they were weirdly accepting of the whole thing, "we should deal with that after food! He hasn't done anything yet to Ron, he can wait half hour while you eat."

He passes on, through a wall, and Sirius notices they've been standing by the kitchens, and tickles the pear, racing after him, "But! Harry! Don't you want to avenge your parents death? He betrayed you! He's a traitor! He deserves a kiss!"

Harry looks at him oddly for the last comment, "A kiss?" He shakes his head, greeting the House Elves with a smile as they continue their work replenishing any food trays that go empty in the hall right now, "They don't want vengeance! I can say pretty confidently that they just want you out of Azkaban".

"How in Merlin could you possibly know that?", Sirius is ushered by House Elves to a table and automatically starts eating when a fork is pressed into his hand and a bowl of plain rice and chicken is set in front of him. "They're dead. Peter is out there! Sleeping next to Ron! Acting like a perfect little pet! How could you not want to do something!" He shovels a piece of chicken in his mouth.

Harry visibly gags at the vision of Scabbers laying next to Ron, as a man, "Okay, that's pretty gross, but, you say they're dead? So am I!" Harry hopes he'll just leave it at that on how he knows, he doesn't particularly want to discuss his long conversation with his dead parents right now. "I think I'd know currently what they want better than anyone else!"

There's a choking noise and rice is sprayed on the floor, obviously Sirius is being starkly reminded that his Godson is dead, no matter how much he's holding a conversation with him. "But… but!"

"No! I'd rather you not in Azkaban again, or eaten by Dementors!" The young saviour's face is contorted in pleading. He might be dead, and acting way more mature than a normal twelve year old confronted with a convicted felon, but he was still young. "I am going to expose Scabbers! McGonagall will do almost anything I ask, she feels so guilty over my situation," he gestured over himself, "you are going to stay hiding in the kitchens, and have a bath! I might not have a sense of smell anymore but I can still tell!"

Sirius is about to cry, there's a tell tale shining in his eyes and a catch in his throat. He might be free, he might have a chance to talk to Moony again, and connect with his Godson, "Okay.." he whispers, "I'll stay here".

And the grown man sitting in front of him looks less like a convicted felon and more like a man who was wrongly accused and is feeling emotions for the first time in years and is faced with the prospect of getting free.