Note: This story is meant to be a romance first and drama/everything else second, to fill the Sirry void in my heart. Anyways, onward!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER

{Forever & Always}

He pointedly didn't address Remus, concentrating on the man who was beside himself with his release, rubbing circles soothingly into his back and letting his drop against the muss of tangled black hair. For the longest of time, Harry didn't say anything, glancing up to the werewolf and silently gesturing for a few more moments of privacy. It was reluctantly granted, and Harry found himself thinly aware of Sirius apologizing for his blubbering.

Harry merely gave a cluck of disproval from the back of his throat, eerily reminiscent of Madame Pomfrey, his thumbs finding their way to the other's haggard face, and wiping the tears that had come to stain his cheeks with a tenderness that many boys his age did not possess. They tended to be awkward piles of joints and muscles, James Potter certainly had been at that age, and as calloused as the boy's hands were – which were no stranger to hard work – they were tender even still, able to enact all of his unfailing kindness with the gentleness he had in mind, the same way Lily was always able to.

"Over ten years in Azkaban as an innocent man, I think you're more that allowed to blubber a bit," Harry offered him a grin, which Sirius wanted to return, but found himself unable, settling for a stiff nod in Harry's grip.

"You've got me looking after your interests you know, and nobody is going to let you go back to that place, over my dead body," he nosed Sirius's hair a bit, not at all bothered by the man's reluctance to let mediwizards wash him, he didn't seem to have a problem with letting a man much his senior, burrow his face in his chest like a child. A sadness blossomed in him, that Lily and James couldn't see how Harry had turned out, how gentle and caring he was, how he moved mountains for people he hadn't even met and yet met him with open arms – as though they really were as close as his one-sided letter sending made them out to be. It didn't feel as unnatural as perhaps it should, in fact, it felt like after years of neglect, even before Azkaban – where he was met with nothing but disdain and cruelty from his late mother and father, that finally, he was being treated the way he always wanted to be. The way that was right. It was like everything had been tilted on some horrible axis and Harry was singlehandedly putting it right, it didn't matter that it didn't make much sense, the comfort was entirely primal, and Sirius wasn't about to push it away.

He wondered, briefly, if this is what the wizarding world thought of Harry for so many years after that horrible night when Voldemort attacked Godric's Hollow. The world probably made fairy tales about him and books while time completely stopped for Sirius, but no, the world couldn't possibly have an idea of what it was like to be in the arms of Harry Potter. It was comforting, he had a thick mass of power beating under his skin that spoke volumes of who he was and who he would become, his arms, though not large and bulked with muscle as perhaps so many hero tales would like to embellish, were just right. Every part of him was soft, reminding him of a perfect bed of clouds, feathers and pillows, he smelled of whatever bubbly body wash he used because he gave off an unnoticeable scent of peach. Sirius could almost see why they'd call him something ridiculous like the Boy-Who-Lived, because right there, it felt like he was taking shelter in the younger person, and every word that rumbled from his throat sounded so assured, and not arrogantly so – the way James had, but like he'd stated simple irrefutable facts of life. The stability of it all was immensely soothing, along with the hands on his back that had moved to his face to so gently dispel him of his tears and not once did he feel insecure for doing it. The second he did, Harry had nipped it in the bud, and truthfully, in this moment, he could have believed them to be in the middle of the world folding in on itself and believe everything would be okay, and that Harry was the calm in the centre of a storm, unbroken, unmovable, unyielding.

If this is what the world could see when they saw him, it was no surprise he was the Boy-Who-Lived.

Or maybe they just projected their own ideal version of him, and Harry just happened to fit, that honestly seemed more likely, because Harry was never one to ask for fame, his letters made that abundantly clear. Definitely not like James.

Sirius almost whined when Harry pulled him out from his chest, but found it dying on his chapped lips and his brow furrow in confusion, unable to say anything when pitted against the piercing emerald stare so close to his own face.

"Oh," was all that managed to escape his dry throat when he felt something warm and not unwelcomed on his head, directly between his brows which had furrowed into a look of bewilderment, only to relax under his godson. He wasn't sure what he did to deserve this, but Harry had closed his lips and put them between his eyebrows on his head and kissed him. It might have been strange if they'd truly been related, but the dynamics of everything were screwed from top to bottom the moment Lily and James died, and from what Sirius understood, Harry raised himself, and in his post-prison state, was more than willing to allow Sirius feel and act little, as though he somehow knew it was exactly what he needed in that moment.

The action itself made warmth curl in his chest, he heaved a deep sigh when Harry stopped, and looked at him with his piercing yet tired stare.

"Remus wants to see you, I told you he was teaching DaDa at Hogwarts but I refrained on telling him about our letters until I showed him Pettigrew. I…I don't really know what led to such a communication breakdown that night – that messed everything up and sent you to prison…but I don't want you two to fight, okay?" at first, Harry wasn't sure if he understood, receiving no response, until Sirius's cracked tone broke the tenseness.

"Moony's here?" he said, his wide eyes filled with hope, so much hope that it almost killed Harry on the inside, he nodded and was tempted to act out affectionately again, knowing little of love, familial and otherwise, but decided against it, and merely smoothed down the mess of tangled hair before calling Remus in.

"Hello Padfoot," an old man with greys in his tawny hair stepped in, and they stared at each other for what seemed like an age, before Sirius croaked out something, which Harry was eternally thankful was not laced in resentment, but relief in finally seeing him.

"Merlin's balls, you're old,"

Remus looked on in curiosity at how deeply the relationship between the pair had set off, it was relieving in a way, that Sirius had somebody, and hadn't lost his mind entirely in Azkaban, even if he wasn't quite his boisterous self, after so many years in hell, who would be?

His sanity as it was, was nothing short of remarkable, and he commented as such, making Sirius look just the faintest bit proud of himself.

"No…" he whined softly, grabbing Harry by the wrist when he got up to give Remus and him some privacy.

Harry looked over at him and then at Remus, who was staring at them both calculatingly, before Harry turned and squeezed Sirius from the shoulders up in a standing-hug while he remained upright on his bed.

"I'll just pop out to get us some food, I've got enough hair to keep my scar covered, I'm sure you're dying for something that isn't stale bread and warm water. The staff are still drawing up your food schedule and dietary needs, until then I'm just going to say it's safe to assume I can spoil you," Harry said, watching the ex-convict's face light up and nod enthusiastically, and reluctantly let go of his wrist.

"I'll grab something for all of us since it's about dinner time now anyway, I'll get you a coffee on the way out Professor, I know how you take it," said Harry, waving them off to before getting out and heading out into Diagon Alley.

He couldn't quite fathom the depth and slew of feelings towards his godfather, but just seeing him for the first time, he was ready to give up everything including that stupid Tri-Wizard tournament and drop Hogwarts just to take care of him. Never, ever had he felt such a defensive urge, except maybe to Hedwig and his friends, but this ran several layers deep and three times as thick. The injustice of everything that all but destroyed the man was still potent in Harry's mind, and he wanted to have Barty Crouch hung up by his testicles and flogged in public in a Filch-esque manner to make up for the amount of suffering the poor man had been through.

"Hello, yes, I'll take three double patty burgers – oh but make one of them triple, all the trimmings, not too much salad, American cheddar, pepperjack and mozzarella—" he ignored the look the vendor gave him, gaping as he put each slice between each thin to medium sized patty. "Tomato sauce on that and some fried onions – right and a gerkin, that's about it, the other one can be a regular double cheeseburger and stick BBQ sauce in mine instead of tomato, right, thank you. Two chilled butterbeers to go, no fries and could you point me to the nearest pastry vendor? Thanks," Harry paid up and then headed to sate Remus's chocolate need by getting him a sharebox of chocolate doughnuts and headed back for the hospital, purposely taking his time and managing to find a hot coffee vendor to get Remus his preference. It was hard to juggle all that food, but being a skivvy for the Dursleys helped make it much easier. He bumbled into the hospital ward to find Remus with tears streaking his face and Sirius wearing the smallest of smiles.

"-and then the boggart was wearing women's clothes, the class saw Severus in a vulture's hat and a Sunday dress—"

He snorted as he caught the end of the story, and calmly placed the sharebox of doughnuts on the bed stand near Remus, who gave Harry a thankful look and blinked as he realized he really did get them all lunch, handing Remus a double cheeseburger.

"Thanks," he said gratefully, his stomach rumbling deeply, Harry turned to Sirius with a slow smirk before unveiling what could only be described as a triple decker burger of sheer diabetes and mouth-watering glory that made Remus's eyes go wide.

"I know you probably can't eat much without being sick so I didn't bother with fries or anything like that and decided just to triple yours up a bit," Harry chuckled, handing the burger to Sirius, who was glancing between Harry, Remus, the burger and their own food, which looked reasonably sized.

Sirius didn't even know how he'd be able to open his mouth wide enough to bite into it, and was rather thankful the scourgify charm had gotten the dirt out from his overly long nails, which were now digging into the tender sesame seed bun.

"Just…try, Sirius," was all Remus could say, shaking head at Harry's antics with some amusement.

And try he did, in fact, more than once, Remus had to spell the area clean, and Sirius dug into his food with near pornographic gusto, which was funnier as opposed to disgusting – like Ron's habits. Sirius was licking his fingers clean when Harry handed him a chilled butterbeer, watching his face light up like he heralded the sun as he took it.

"So, because the goblins didn't receive a trial verdict, your assets didn't get liquidated, or passed on, you're still head of the Black family as far as I'm aware and your properties will be back in your name and the Ministry will probably be paying you reparations," said Remus, sipping his coffee.

"Harry had his elf pop in to check on things, Kreacher's still around," he added, as Sirius scowled, swallowing the last of his burger, before turning quizzical.

"You have an elf?" he asked Harry, he knew he mentioned it in a letter but as Sirius couldn't reply, he could not ask about it at the time.

"I freed him from Lucius Malfoy, he works for Hogwarts now but prefers to stay free and by my side, he's a bloody strange elf as elves go, loves freedom but says if he ever had to be sworn to a wizard – he'd want it to be me," Harry shook his head.

"An elf wanting to be free? Bonkers," muttered Sirius "-but if it's freedom from Malfoys I don't blame it, you're gonna have to tell me the full story behind that one," he paused as Harry reached into his overgrown mass of untamed facial hair, not at all grossed out and practically doting when taking stray bits of food from it, offering him a wonky grin and making Remus chuckle.

"He's checked in on your old place, Grimmauld, apparently, Kreacher's let it fall into complete disrepair, I set Dobby to work on cleaning it but instructed him not to touch anything that he senses dark magic coming from, for his own safety, so how much of the place will actually be clean is anyone's guess," snorted Harry.

"I'm not looking forward to going back there," Sirius said, scowling, which made Remus wince a little and Harry look a bit downcast.

"The only property I own is Godric's Hollow and it's pretty wrecked, even if it wasn't, I don't think it'd be a much better option, considering," said Harry softly, making the air turn solemn.

"Grimmauld it is," grumbled Sirius, until Harry shuffled close to him on the bed, raising his feet off it and kicking his shoes to one side in order to cuddle up to his godfather, thinking nothing strange of it.

Harry just smiled at him benignly, as if to say everything will be alright.

"I'll have a way to get your mother's old portrait off there when I'm over, Dobby tells me she shrieks at him at every given opportunity and we can't have that, you won't get a moment's peace," Harry seemed so sure of himself, but Sirius shook his head – it was near impossible to get dear old mum off that wall, he remembered that much.

"Oh have a little faith," he said, grinning.

"I almost don't want to know, you have the scheming look in his eye James would get," mused Remus, chuckling over his coffee at the glint behind Harry's glasses as he thought of how to get Sirius's mum off the wall.

Then there was silence, where they merely ate, and basked in the each other's company, before Harry swallowed the last of his drink and pulled Remus in by the shoulders, and Sirius by his.

"Two things are going to happen," he said authoritatively, it was uncharacteristic of Harry, and Remus found himself raising a brow in surprise but not fighting the warmth in which he was pulled close.

"You, former DaDa teacher and bloody best one I've ever had, are going to help clear out Grimmauld place with Dobby of dark artefacts to make it habitable. I know it's a big job, so I'll probably ask Dumbledore if he can spare a few hands, considering I'm roped into this bloody Tri-Wizard tournament lark..." which was happening a year late, if memories of it were to be trusted, broken, fragmented ones that he didn't even possess in full. He could only assume Voldemort truly was biding his time, especially with Harry intervening and taking his most royal subject - Pettigrew - away from him.

"You," he turned to Sirius, they were so close he was practically nosing his cheek, his breathe rolling over the man.

"Are going to do your best to recover. I'm in my OWL year and in this bloody tournament to boot, I'll see if I can't wrangle some time off due to the sheer stress of it all and turn in some work early to prove it won't damage my shot at OWLs so I can look after you and help,"

"Harry you don't have to do that," said Remus with a little frown, the idea of him sacrificing his education did not sit well with the former teacher, but Harry merely waved him off.

"I have money to afford tutors if I need to take a year out and only go for that blasted tournament, and as most the school hates me and doesn't believe I was set up despite whatever I say, it might do me some good to get away. Muggle students have something called study leave, besides, Binns can't teach worth a damn and the day I make a good potion with Snape leering at me and insulting me between every breathe is the day Voldemort starts wearing frilly pink lace knickers," stated Harry boldly, and even Sirius had to turn a little green at that, the idea of the Dark Lord in frilly pink knickers was one he could certainly live without.

"I might even do better away from Hogwarts. It'll take me away from all this tournament stress and whoever entered my name in the cup to begin with, and any of my housemates trying to hurt me in my sleep for something I didn't bloody do," he then rolled his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh.

"I'd love to have you," said Sirius, almost shyly, honestly he had no good memories of his ancestral home and it was apparently a complete sty and he didn't want to drive Harry away by what little he had to offer - a pigsty death trap dark house, but Harry merely brightened, as though Sirius offered him the world.

"Right, I'll have a word with Fudge either way, OWLs are overseen by officials vetted by the Ministry anyway, if Hogwarts doesn't wise the hell up I can just sit them privately. I mean, I'd miss Ron and Hermione, but they can't keep up or leave well enough alone when I want them to, hell they spend most the time arguing and Ron's turned into a right royal prat and believes the same horse dung the school does - and he's supposed to be my best friend. I have no one," he was well aware he was ranting, and blinked as he felt a firm hand in his hair, gently ruffling it.

"You have us," said Remus after a moment, messing Harry's up "-I can go with you to Albus if you like, he probably wouldn't be fond of you being out of his eye for a while but he could probably help oversee a casting of the Fidelius charm over Grimmauld and help make it unplottable from the public,"

"You don't have to, I'd prefer it if you stayed with Sirius, I can handle him - I think, besides, the amount of codswallop I go through at Hogwarts right under his sodding nose should put him in enough debt to me that he at least hears me out," Harry rubbed his temples a bit, looking far older than sixteen in that moment, before childishly nuzzling up against Sirius's shoulder, to which the man gave a serene barely-present half-smile.

"In the mean time I'm going to ask that Remus, here, take this," he rooted around his pockets a bit and handed him a Gringotts key.

"This is a spare key I had made, I've asked the accounting goblin for my trust vault that he be aware of your presence and list of allowed handlers of my vault. I won't have access to the family vault for another year and I want you to keep your finances for yourself but I want you to look for a private brewer or Potion's Master willing to brew your Wolfsbane if the coin is good enough. I wont have you grovelling to Snape or doing without," he said resolutely.

"Harry I can't take this," Remus's throat had gone a bit dry as the key was thrust in his hand.

"Well tough, I didn't spent twenty minutes debating with a goblin over the security of multiple keys for you not to take it," said Harry crisply, refusing to take no for an answer.

"At least until we sort out Ministry reparations and everything else. I know you don't like to feel like a mooch and honestly you wouldn't be. I consider you family, room and general board, food, Wolfsbane, I don't want you to have to worry about that any more,"

Remus couldn't quite keep his eyes from going glassy.

"I don't know what to say," was all he could manage as Sirius just looked rather proud of Harry.

"Don't say anything, just say you want to be apart of this, apart of us," Harry added, squeezing his one armed grip around the thin ex-convict.

Remus looked at the two, but his eyes held on Harry, he was met with a hardened emerald stare that was disconcerting in how much knowledge they held, it made the wolf in him a little dwarfed, oddly uncomfortable, but there was something else. Whenever he looked over at Sirius there was waves and waves of unending, unyielding, tidal waves of love, affection, everything that Sirius needed and deserved but in such abundance that it was hard not to comment on it when he was blatantly aware that Sirius didn't currently have the full presence of mind to register the kind of relationship he could have with Harry.

He was still figuring out how to react to that, it was strange to see.

"Of course," he said firmly "-I don't want to lose you again Padfoot, and Harry - I couldn't possibly leave you behind,"

Harry gave him a crooked smile.

"I should plant myself in Dumbledore's office then, I don't think he'll be ecstatic over this,"

His heart burned at Sirius's face falling when he had to finally leave.

"I could certainly recommend you tutors my boy, it might do well for you to get away from this animosity towards you, especially if someone at the school put your name in the cup, though your presence leaving will certainly cause some discord and anger whoever put your name in there I suspect, it'll make it harder to keep an eye on you," mused Dumbledore, stroking his beard as he leaned back in his chair.

Harry's idea was unexpected but certainly warranted some thought - it had merit.

"You're aware of how this would be perceived, correct? You are already a pariah,"

"With all do respect they can get stuffed, Sirius is more important," he said it with such passion that Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up, he looked at that expression, and felt something in his chest constrict at the burning stare.

"It will look like you're running away," said Dumbledore gravely.

"The school wants me flayed because they think I had something to do with this! See it as a safety measure, how can I have any hope of achieving a single above acceptable OWL with all this going on?" he said, stressed until Dumbledore raised a hand to calm him.

"I quite agree,"

Wait, huh?

"I will consent to overseeing the Fidelius charm over the residence, furthermore, I will consent to you taking this year out and coming back only to participate in the Tri-Wizard Cup as a matter of safety and the magically binding contract, nowhere does it mandate you stay in school for the duration. I will send some tutors your way once the charm is complete and you've settled," he brushed his beard a bit more "-I will spin it as a matter of personal safety on the Boy-Who-Lived," his eyes twinkled "-I've already publicly taken the stance that I do not believe your name was put in the cup with your consent, knowledge and intent, it can be easily seen as trying to alienate you from the perpetrator and I can do just that. I believe I know where to start," he added.

"Why...no offence sir, but I expected this to be more of a fight, why are you agreeing so easily?" Harry asked bluntly, baffled.

"You love him, don't you?" Harry looked confused at Dumbledore's statement, before nodding.

"He's my Godfather, of course I do..." he said, trailing off, nervous under the man's scrutiny, to which Dumbledore merely gave him a knowing and toothy sort of smile he rarely gave.

"I always said it would be love..." he mused under his breathe.