Don't have much time today, so I'll just drop this off real quick. Enjoy and have a great weekend :)
The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black
"I think we should get him a pet."
"Who?" Remus asked absentmindedly, completely lost in the news that were currently being read on the radio.
"Kreacher," Sirius said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Harry, obviously. It sucks that he can't go outside; but maybe we can turn one of the spare rooms into a sort of indoor garden, get him...dunno, a bunch of nifflers or something."
"Nifflers?" Remus repeated incredulously, finally tearing his eyes away from the battered old wireless. "In this house? You do realize they'd all be dead within the hour because they tried to steal some cursed silverware?"
"We'd have to keep them locked up, obviously," Sirius rolled his eyes. "And it doesn't have to be nifflers, just something exciting. I mean, you don't like cats, an owl would be totally pointless, and toads are for weirdos. We have to think outside the box here."
Remus sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I think we should maybe hold off on the whole pet thing for a while. He hasn't even asked for one yet, has he?"
"No, but-"
"Look Padfoot, you can't keep showering him with gifts. It was all fine for the start, and he did need lots of new things, but now it's time for some normality. We can't just spoil him rotten."
Sirius frowned. Remus spoke with a lot of conviction, obviously having thought about this for quite some time. He wondered when this newfound enthusiasm for raising children had sprung up from – maybe one of the new books he had bought?
"We couldn't spoil him if we tried," he objected nevertheless. "You saw how those bastards treated him. We could buy him his own Quidditch team and still not make up for it."
"I did. And I also saw what they did to their own son. Is that how you want Harry to turn out? Because he will if you keep this up."
Sirius fell silent, dumbfounded by the fierce reply. Remus really did take this seriously, didn't he?
What about you? Shouldn't you take this seriously, too? You are his godfather.
He swallowed as the guilt crept up in him. Was Remus right? Was he turning Harry into a pampered little prince?
"I just want him to be happy," he said weakly, sinking back into the sofa.
You're no good at this. You should've just let Remus take Harry. You're only endangering them anyway; they're both in hiding because of you. You-
"And that's totally understandable." Remus voice sounded warmer than before, and judging by the sympathetic look he had guessed the dark thoughts creeping up in Sirius' mind. "But he is happy. There's no need to hand him everything on a silver platter before he even asks for it."
"Like his breakfast?" Sirius scoffed, as his annoyance from that morning returned. "You can't tell me feeding him is considered spoiling."
Remus rolled his eyes. "He was offering to make it himself. There's nothing wrong with teaching him a little independence."
"Oh, well, if Professor Moony says so," Sirius snarled. "Since when are you an expert on parenting anyway? Did you even have sex once?" He didn't know where those sudden mood-swings came from – or rather he did, but he didn't want to acknowledge it – but all he knew was that he was now very pissed at Remus.
To the werewolf's credit, he barely flinched. "Do what you wish," he said curtly, turning up the volume on the radio. "But if Harry liking you is more important to you than bringing him up properly, then maybe we should have left him with the Dursleys. You're his guardian now, Padfoot, not the fun uncle who pampers him. Act like it."
Sirius growled quietly, but his anger vanished as soon as it had come, leaving nothing but despair once again.
He really was hopeless at all this.
Sirius.
For a full minute Harry stared at the nameplate, trying to come up with possible explanations – maybe Sirius had wanted a second bedroom? Dudley had one – until he finally came to the only conclusion that made sense.
This was Sirius old home.
But how...
Could it be? The house was evil – Sirius himself had said so! – and the people who had once lived here must've been evil, too. But Sirius wasn't evil.
Maybe he'd been forced to live here? Like Harry at Privet Drive. Harry wasn't like the Dursleys at all, even though he had lived there. Maybe Sirius' parents had died as well – he had never mentioned his family now that Harry thought about it, unlike Remus – and he'd been brought here by Dumbledore or somebody else.
Yes, he decided, that must be it. There was no way Sirius was part of the horrible family that had lived here.
But what if he did?
Harry wanted to know, but the idea of asking Sirius – and admitting that he had been sneaking around – was too horrifying. Unless...
He hadn't been paying much attention to the room – riding a giant dog while fighting evil pixies didn't leave much time to take in one's surroundings – but he did remember the enormous tapestry that had adorned one wall. Sirius had tried to blast it off, but it had remained stubbornly, and finally his godfather had given up. Which meant that it still hung there.
Without bothering to pick up his chocolate frog Harry whirled around and stomped down the stairs.
"I'm sorry."
Sirius finally couldn't take the silence any longer. Remus was listening to something called Gardener's Question Time, and frankly, there really were lines to be drawn. "I was right. You really are way better at this than I am."
Remus, who had been on what surely must've been his sixth cup of tea since lunch, looked up from where he had been half-heartedly skimming through an old Charms book. "No need to apologize; I know this wasn't you. And I'm really not."
Sirius sighed, flicking his wand to finally shut up the annoying muggle who was telling him about how to prevent leaf mold in tomato plants. "You are...I mean, you know how to raise a bloody child...all I can do is play the clown."
It had been great back when Harry had first been born. Like having a son – because James and him had been more than brothers, so any son of James was automatically his as well, whatever Lily might have to say about that – but without any of the hard bits, like responsibility or restraint.
But now James and Lily were gone, and suddenly he had to do so much more.
"I don't think I can do it," he said quietly, staring down at his hands. They were still paler than they had been, and sometimes they would tremble so badly he could barely hold his wand.
Useless, like the rest of you.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, not this again." There was a plop as Remus threw down his book and walked over, fishing a handful of chocolate frogs out of his pocket. "Fight it," he said as he pushed them into Sirius hands and sat down next to him. "This isn't you, none of that brooding is. Yes, you may be a little overenthusiastic, but you will figure this out. Harry loves you very much, and he is so much happier now than he was before. You did good. Don't let them beat you."
Sirius didn't answer, but he unwrapped one of the chocolate frogs and popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly.
Remus was right, this wasn't him. He had never done much brooding – that had actually always been Remus' thing – and he certainly hadn't had any sort of self-doubts. But then again, back then he hadn't yet caused the murder of his best friends and spent over six years in the most horrible place on earth.
"You can't think about what's gone," Remus continued when Sirius didn't answer, his voice softer than before. "You can't keep blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault. It was Peter's, and Voldemort's. I don't blame you, and Harry certainly doesn't. But he needs you, all of you. You have to fight the Dementors, for him. Just...just think of him as your Patronus."
Despite his gloominess, Sirius couldn't help but chuckle. "That was the sappiest thing I have ever heard, Moony. Are you sure you aren't a girl?"
He stared down at the card that had fallen out of his chocolate frog and frowned. "Urgh. Celestina Warbeck. I am having the worst luck with these recently." He grabbed another one and stuffed it whole on his mouth, feeling his cheerfulness return slowly.
"Thanks, Moony. I'm...I'm sorry I'm such an arse sometimes. And I really didn't mean it. You'd be a great Dad."
As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them, as the tentative smile quickly slipped from Remus' face.
Right. Sore point.
Back at school, Remus had never seemed to mind the jokes about his condition much, even partaking in them occasionally. But that had been before they had been thrust back into the reality of life, out of the shelter of Hogwarts. And out there, being a werewolf meant more than a few missed classes and funny inside jokes. Sirius hadn't really noticed back then, far too busy with fighting a war and watching James and Lily start a family, but now that he was back, and got to properly look at his friend, he had to admit to himself that this new world-weariness wasn't that new at all.
So far he had tried to avoid the subject, not wanting to cause a rift between them now, when all they had was each other. But now that he had inadvertently broached it, he might as well go for it.
"Don't see why you shouldn't be," he said stubbornly. "It'd be awesome for Harry to have a little brother."
Remus only glared at him. "Let it rest, Padfoot."
Sirius winced inwardly. Usually Remus would at least muster a sarcastic comment. The fact that he didn't meant that Sirius' words must've hit harder than he had thought.
Because unlike you, he actually always wanted a family.
They hadn't talked about it, of course – it wasn't exactly the thing teenage boys discussed – but it had been blindingly obvious. Back then Sirius had always been certain that they could talk Remus around some day, that they would make him see his own worth. Some day, when the war was over...it had always been some day, until the days had suddenly stopped.
"I think we should tell Harry."
Remus' head whipped around. "Tell him what?" he asked, even though his pale face made it clear he knew perfectly well what Sirius had meant.
"About the rabbit. I don't see why he shouldn't know."
"Because...you know why!" Remus exclaimed. "He had nightmares for days because of Mad-Eye, how do you think he'd react to living with a monster?"
"You're not a monster, jeez. I mean, not to be disrespectful, but you're a rather pathetic werewolf. Moody is a million times scarier than you." Sirius was still not quite over the disappointment in first year, when after much excitement about learning that their friend was a real werewolf he and James had found out that said dark creature was in fact nothing more than a shy bookworm who liked chocolate a lot.
"You're not even in the house when you transform," he continued when Remus didn't reply. "We both know it's completely harmless, and we can simply explain it to Harry."
"He'd still know he's living with a dark creature," Remus objected, avoiding Sirius eyes. "You know the stigma. I'd leave, of course, if he wanted me to, but-"
"Oh come on!" Sirius drove both hands through his hair, wondering if the years alone had made Remus even more stubborn, and how such a thing was even possible. "He's been raised by bloody muggles! He probably doesn't even know there are werewolves! And do you honestly think that the son of James Potter and Lily Evans would be in any way judgmental about this? James Potter, who became an Animagus for you, and Lily Evans, who punched a guy at her own wedding 'cos he said something stupid abut werewolves?"
Remus still kept quiet, his eyes now firmly fixed on the ground, his jaw clenched. Sirius knew that look, and it meant that he was close to winning. "Look, if they...if things were different, he'd already know about you, and they'd have made damn sure he was fine with it. There's no reason not to tell him; it'll only get worse the longer we postpone it. He was already up in tears about you dying last week, and I don't know what to tell him next time. It'd help so much if he could just understand."
"Nothing we could tell him would make him worry less," Remus said quietly, his eyes closed. Sirius flinched. This much defeatism was new.
You've been gone six years. This isn't the same man you remember.
"And what about you?" Remus continued, finally turning around to face him. "When'll you tell him about whose house this really is? Because he will figure it out at some point."
Sirius opened his mouth to respond – even though he had no idea how to – but before he could do so, their conversation was abruptly stopped by a silver form floating in through the window.
Sirius nearly dropped his remaining chocolate frog and Remus jerked so violently he practically fell off the sofa, but both had their wands out before the figure had even started talking.
"Remus."
Sirius hadn't heard the voice in over six years, but he didn't need the phoenix form to tell him who it belonged to.
Harry's first instinct was to just rush into the drawing room and look for the tapestry, but on the long way down the sheer endless flights of stairs he had regained enough composure to remember the Doxies that still lurked in some of the curtains, and various other nasty inhabitants that might have escaped the cleaning act on Thursday.
It's probably dangerous to go in there on your own.
But he could hardly ask Sirius or Remus, could he? There was no real reason for him to be in there.
Then he remembered Remus comment, about becoming an explorer to look for Oompa-Loompas. Explorers went into dangerous places, but they came prepared. Harry could be a smart explorer.
It took him a while to find all his equipment – he actually had to break into Remus' room, which filled him with both excitement and guilt – but when he came back to the drawing room, he was sure that he could fight any Doxy. He had a handkerchief around his face, just as Sirius had shown him on Thursday – Prongs' had one, too, just to be sure – a spray can of the Anti-Fairy-Spray they had used, and a fresh chocolate frog for medical purposes (Remus seemed to always have them on him, and Remus was smart, so Harry decided to follow his example).
He threw a last cautious look downstairs to find the door of the study still firmly shut, and slowly walked inside.
The sun was already setting outside, making the room look even gloomier than he remembered. There was no fire burning in the grate, and it was a lot colder than downstairs or in Harry's room. There were shadows everywhere, and he was pretty certain he saw something move in one corner, but before he could investigate his eyes fell on his objective, and all thoughts of Oompa-Loompa-investigation fled his mind.
He quickly rushed towards it, nearly stumbling over an overturned box filled with silver goblets, until he stood directly in front of it. Or below, as it was massive, its faded and moth-eaten cloth stretching over nearly the entire wall.
Harry craned his neck, and could just make out the large, golden words at the top of the tapestry.
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
'Toujours Pur'
House of Black...Was that like the House of Lords? The tapestry did look rather lordly. Or did it refer to the colour of the house? Black undeniably seemed to be the prevailing theme.
He decided to postpone that question and instead looked at the names that were embroidered in golden thread along the countless branches of the tree. He was too small to read the top ones properly, but judging by the dates next to them they were far too old to be Sirius anyway. In fact, the tree seemed to go hundreds of years back.
His heart lurched when he saw a Sirius, but he appeared to have died on 1952, so he was obviously not his godfather. Yet it still filled him with uneasiness, especially when he found another Sirius, even older. Maybe it was a family tradition? A lot of the names kept repeating themselves, and all of them sounded just as strange.
It could be a coincidence?
Harry didn't know many wizards after all; maybe Sirius was just a very popular wizard name, like Michael in muggles. There had been three Michaels in Harry's old class, and none of them were related.
He looked at the dates further down the line. The youngest one was a Regulus, born in 1961. He seemed to have died very young, about eight years ago. Next to him was a blackened hole. Harry frowned. At first he had believed it to be a moth hole – or probably Doxy hole, since this was a magic house – but now that he looked closer, the name seemed to have been burnt out. He squeezed his eyes, but there was no telling what it had been. The year was still readable though; two years older than the one next to it. There was no second number next to it – did that mean the person was still alive?
He looked around and found a few more names with only one number, all of them older than the two at the bottom. Now that he noticed it, there were a few more burn holes where names had obviously been erased on purpose.
But why? It couldn't be because they were dead, because most of them were dead anyway. Maybe they had changed their names? But then why not write the new names next to it? Or change it by magic, which surely must be possible?
His eyes wandered back to the hole at the bottom.
Could it be?
The date fit – he actually had no idea how old Sirius or Remus were, yet it seemed about right – but did that mean anything?
He looked at the name next to it. Regulus. He'd read that before, hadn't he? On that...Harry's stomach sank.
On the door next to Sirius'.
"Remus. And Sirius, if you are with him."
He gripped his wand more tightly, a myriad of scenarios swirling through his head. How had Dumbledore found them? If he could send a Patronus, could he also break the Fidelius? Was the Order already on their way?
A side-glance at Remus' pale face told him that he was thinking the same, and he was almost on his way to fetch Harry and apparate out of here as quickly as possible, when the phoenix continued.
"I have not found you, in case you are wondering. Your work on the Fidelius is impressive. I send this merely as an offer of peace. I have read your letter, Remus, and I do believe you. I know that you and Sirius only have Harry's best interests at heart. But you both must now that this is not a permanent solution. Please allow me to help you. None of us wish for Harry to come to harm."
The phoenix dissolved, and silence descended on the room as both Sirius and Remus stared at the spot where it had been. Remus recovered first, slowly walking over to the window and peering around the curtains. "He's there," he said tonelessly.
Sirius didn't reply, still too dumbfounded by the message.
"What do we do? Do we...go out and meet him?"
Finally, he managed to move.
"You what!?" he repeated incredulously, so shocked he could barely feel any anger. "You sent him a letter!?"
Remus flinched, dropping the curtains as he turned back to face him. But his voice was calm. "I didn't send it, directly. I left it with Petunia when we got Harry. I told him why we did it, and that you were innocent. To be honest, I did not expect him to believe me."
Sirius' hands trembled. "You told him about me and Peter? Are you insane? What else did you tell him? Where we are? That I'm an animagus, maybe?" Now he felt anger, paired with betrayal. "I trusted you, Moony!"
Not again. Not him, too.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, Padfoot!" Finally Remus raised his voice as well, striding over to the heavy desk in the corner. "What was I supposed to do? I betrayed their trust, I betrayed all of them. Least I could do is leave an explanation. And you heard him; he can't find us. I didn't tell him where we were going, or how you escaped. Just that it was Peter who killed them, and that we were keeping Harry safe. He deserves to know; he cares about Harry just as we do."
Sirius felt his hysteria ebb away, but he couldn't help but snort derisively. "Yeah, that's why he sent him to live with Mr and Mrs Walrus."
Remus didn't answer and instead uncorked his inkbottle, probably to take note of what Dumbledore had said.
"So what do we do?"
Sirius glanced towards the window, where he could indeed make out a tall figure looking at their house expectantly, but he turned away quickly. "Nothing. It's a trap."
Remus looked up from his writing, an eyebrow raised doubtfully. "A trap? That's hardly his style, don't you think?" He pushed the finished parchment away from him and shook his head thoughtfully.
"But you are right; we should not go out to meet him now. The Fidelius is our greatest asset, and breaking it like this would be reckless. What about a Patronus? I could arrange to meet him somewhere else, somewhere safe..."
"No." Sirius was surprised at how firm his voice sounded, but he ignored Remus' confused look. "He might be able to track it. He invented the bloody spell, who knows what he can do with it. And I don't trust him."
"You were the one who told Harry the Order were the good guys," Remus reminded him.
"Yes, because if we get captured, and if he gets away, then I'd rather he turned to Dumbledore than people like Malfoy or the ministry. But that doesn't mean I trust him."
"So we ignore it?"
Sirius nodded, the decision already made in his mind. "Yes. We're doing fine, aren't we? We've got enough money to last years, we can go out while we're careful, and Harry's happy."
He knew himself that it was only half the truth. Sure, they were okay now, but Dumbledore was right; it was hardly a long-term solution. Should they stay in this house for the rest of their lives? Of Harry's life? Deprive him of of his freedom? Of Hogwarts?
He pushed the thoughts aside. For now, they were fine. That was all that mattered.
