Disclaimer: Anything recognisable is shamelessly borrowed from Order of the Phoenix. May all Sirius' scenes in that book make the movie… bar one wink
Updated: Tuesday 28 November 2006. I know, I know, a few days off again, but the other girl in my department has gone on leave, and the new staff member we were supposed to have start quit before she even began; so I've been rushed off my feet. Besides, there's also the tiny matter of Christmas shopping, planning a surprise party, and finally booking my holiday for next year… I'm hot and bothered just thinking about it – course it helps that it is nearly 100 degrees outside right now – and I won't even mention the rabid plot bunnies that have me chained to my next story… oh, and I won't say anything of the site outtages...
But I thank you, emphatically, for your patience!
Chapter Three: Meeting Harry
It was the middle of the night. Madison and Sirius had just managed to get their jet-lagged son to sleep in a small crib in their room, when the shouting voice of a portrait called their attention.
"Sirius! SIRIUS BLACK!" Phineas Nigellus' voice echoed down the hall, threatening to awaken their slumbering son. Wordlessly, Sirius motioned for Madison to stay with Jamie in case he woke up, and excused himself from the room, heading directly for the bedroom that had been his own as a child.
"What is it, Phin," he scowled at the canvas, dispensing with the use of titles since he had only ever really known the man at all through his portrait. Phinneas, in turn, allowed the little transgression to slide since the house's wards had identified Sirius' son as being named Phineas (of course, Sirius was not about to point out just who his son's namesake truly was).
"I have a message from Dumbledore," said Phineas boorishly, sounding altogether put out at being treated as a simple messenger. "He said to expect some visitors. Arthur Weasley's been gravely injured. Potter and the redheads are en route."
"Now?" said Sirius, bewildered, all the things he had wanted to get done around the house before Harry arrived at the end of term now seeming out of reach.
"Soon enough," said Phineas impatiently, his voice grumbling at the imposition to his 'nap' time. "Dumbledore wants the toe-rags away before that Umbridge woman can intervene. So what should I tell the old man? He's expecting a reply… I'm nothing but a lowly messenger now…"
Sirius stifled a snort at the portrait's indignation and smiled at the prospect of seeing his godson early.
"Tell Albus I'd be delighted," he said, before excusing himself to pass on the news to his wife.
"I'll stay up here with Jamie… bring him down in the morning," said Madison levelly once Sirius had told her.
"Are you sure?" Sirius questioned her.
"I'm sure," said Madison. "If Arthur Weasley is hurt, those children are not going to be in the frame of mind for introductions. Besides, I don't trust that house elf enough to leave Jamie upstairs by himself, and he needs to sleep."
"Fine, leave me to watch five sleepy, worried teenagers by myself, then," Sirius grumbled, running a hand through his hair.
"Fine, I will," said Madison, smiling wryly. "You could use the practice, you know…"
At her husband's puzzled look, she smirked.
"What, you think I want to stop at one?"
"You're not pregnant again, are you?" asked Sirius, caught off-guard. As much as he wanted to fill the house with children, he was so wrapped up in Jamie, and then Harry, that he didn't know how he could possibly split his time with another child just yet.
"No," said Madison, sharing his sentiment. One baby was plenty so long as the situation with Harry was ongoing. Having been an only child herself, she appreciated the virtues of quality over quantity. More children would come, of that she was sure, but not for a few years at least, when the boys were older.
Pecking his wife on the cheek and hugging her briefly, Sirius hovered over their son's crib for a moment before retreating downstairs to wait for the unplanned houseguests. He was not looking forward to the time when, for the sake of maintaining their cover, he had to move into a room separate from his family. Then again, being master of the household and having the power to manipulate the wards – and the walls – at will did have its advantages.
No sooner had he entered the kitchen was he greeted with the sight of five disorientated teenagers sprawled on the basement floor, his abhorrent excuse of a house elf spitting vile comments at them.
"OUT!" he roared at the disobedient elf. Then, reaching out a hand to assist the youngest Weasley child to her feet, he looked over the teens' dishevelled bedclothes in concern. For the kids to be pulled out of bed in the middle of the night, not given a chance to change or grab any personal belongings, things had to be serious. He put voice to his questions.
"What's going on? Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured-"
"Ask Harry," said one of the twins, Sirius could not determine which.
"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said the other.
Sirius could only listen with mounting dread as his godson described his vision, knowing without question that the boy was holding something back. As much as he would like to believe that Harry had witnessed the attack from a third person point of view, with what little they knew of the boy's cursed connection with Voldemort, it didn't make sense. Instead, Sirius suspected that Harry had witnessed the attack firsthand, which then broached the question of how Voldemort was linked to his snake, Nagini; but instead of mulling over all the questions he'd have for Dumbledore later, Sirius could not help but feel a stab of sympathy for the injured man's children. Provided that Harry's vision had enabled his distant cousin to receive medical attention in time, the man's chances of survival were severely limited.
"Is Mum here?" said one of the twins, turning to him. Sirius was pretty sure it was Fred, though he couldn't be entirely sure.
"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," he replied. "The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."
"We've got to go to St Mungo's," said Ginny urgently. She looked around at her brothers; they were of course still in their pyjamas. "Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything?"
"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St Mungo's!" said Sirius, panic lacing his tone. If the children's persistence led to them doing something drastic – like using under-aged magic – he alone would stand no match for them. With Remus away for a few days on an errand for Dumbledore, he, Madison and Jamie were the only people in the house.
"Course we can go to St Mungo's if we want," said one of the twins, with a mulish expression. "He's our dad!"
"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital had even let his wife know?" said Sirius exasperatedly.
"What does that matter?" said the other twin hotly.
"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" said Sirius angrily, knowing in that instant that he could take on the teenagers if need be – just as he would do anything to protect his family, inclusive of Harry. Trying to talk sense into them, rather than resorting to magically restraining them, he pressed on. "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"
Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry made of anything. Ron was still ashen-faced and silent, whilst beside him, Harry looked as though he wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and escape the proposed attention.
"Somebody else could have told us… we could have heard it somewhere other than Harry," said Ginny.
"Like who?" said Sirius impatiently. Changing tactics, he preyed upon their Gryffindor sense of honour. "Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's-"
"We don't care about the dumb Order!" shouted one twin.
"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" yelled the other.
"Your father knew what he was getting into and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!" said Sirius, equally angry. Inwardly, he was filled with a foreboding sense of panic whereby if the Weasley children could not see the reasons why they could not just up and leave to be at their father's side, then he had no hope of having Harry understand the reasons for his deceptions. Forgetting who he was talking to, he began to yell. "This is how it is – this is why you're not in the Order – you don't understand – there are things worth dying for!"
"Easy for you to say, stuck here!" bellowed Fred… at least Sirius was 90 sure it was Fred. "I don't see you risking your neck!"
The little colour remaining in Sirius' face drained from it, and he reeled back as though he had just been struck. Fred's words cut deep… for as much as he would have liked to have been doing something worthwhile for the cause, thus lessening the burden on his godson's shoulders, his son and wife – a baby and a Muggle – were dependent upon his protection. While he looked for a moment as though he would quite like to hit the twin who had spoken out against him, when he next spoke, it was with a voice of determined calm. The mere thought that he had not only spoken to a distraught child like that, but that his wife may have heard and that he may one day lose control like that in front of his own son, was enough to humble him.
"I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?"
Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Harry looked at him in silent thanks, before looking at Ron, who made a funny movement somewhere between a nod and a shrug, before sitting down. The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats either side of Ginny.
"That's right," said Sirius encouragingly, consciously trying to keep the relief from his tone. "Come on, let's all… let's all have a drink while we're waiting. Accio Butterbeer!"
He raised his wand as he spoke and half a dozen bottles came flying towards them out of the pantry, skidded along the table, scattering the debris of an earlier meal, and stopped neatly in front of the six of them. They all drank, and for a while the only sounds were those of he crackling of the kitchen fire and the soft thud of their bottles on the table.
The minutes dragged into a indeterminable period of time. Sitting across from his godson, watching the conflict of emotions wash over the distracted boy's face, Sirius wanted nothing more than to take the lonely teenager into his arms and welcome him into the life he and Madison had built for themselves, and little Jamie. In the dead of the night, as his mind became more and more addled by fatigue and worry for the Weasley's father, Sirius began to question the staples he had dictated his life by. Suddenly, the idea that Grimmauld Place could be the only impenetrable safe hold outside of Hogwarts became unreasonable, his over-active mind fighting to engineer a way in which Paradise Lodge could be just as thoroughly protected. After all, what is to say that the safest place for Harry was at Hogwarts, followed by loveless summers with his horrible Muggle relatives? Why couldn't Harry be home tutored by a number of trusted professionals, learning by a customised curriculum that would only heighten his chances of besting his enemies? Arthur Weasley's brush with death had shaken him to the core, serving as a startling reminder that life was short and he couldn't take anything for granted. To wait, then, until such time that Voldemort was defeated – or the link between boy and wizard severed – was sheer lunacy. Anything could happen between now and then.
Before Sirius could contemplate excusing himself from the kitchen to run upstairs and run the idea past his wife, a burst of fire in midair illuminated the dirty plates in front of them. Having become well accustomed to that particular form of communication, Sirius ignored the teenager's cries of shock, and deftly caught the scroll of parchment that he knew was bound to come. Reaching out and picking up the golden phoenix tail feather that he'd allowed to flutter to the table top, he held it up for the teenagers to see, as though it explained everything.
"Fawkes," he elaborated, before turning his attention to the scroll in his hand. "That's not Dumbledore's writing – it must be a message from your mother – here - "
He thrust the letter into George's hand, who ripped it open and read aloud: 'Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum.'
George looked around the table.
"Still alive…" he said slowly. "But that makes it sound…"
He did not need to finish the sentence. All knew without being told that Arthur Weasley was hovering somewhere between life and death. Sirius could only watch helplessly, as the children around him absorbed this fact. Still exceptionally pale, Ron stared at the back of his mother's letter as though it might speak words of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out of his twin's hand and read it for himself, then looked up at Harry, who Sirius noticed, was gripping his Butterbeer bottle with shaking hands. Reaching across the table wordlessly, Sirius grabbed Harry's wrist and squeezed it comfortingly. If he had his way, he would have leapt across the table and wrapped the boy up in a protective embrace, but he was only too painfully aware of how little they really knew each other, and how unwelcome such ministrations might be received. When Harry accepted his action with a shy smile, however, Sirius could not help but be filled with undeniable joy. It took all his resolve to the let go of his godson's arm, lest he begin to appear a little strange.
Settling himself down for a long wait for news, Sirius suggested once, without any real conviction, that the children all go to bed. He himself, meanwhile, was not tired thanks to still being on Queensland time, but the teenagers, he could see, were fighting to stay awake. When his suggestion was met with looks of disgust, he decided not to push his luck. Casting his mind back to Madison's labour, which was not only full of complications for her, but life-threatening for their son who, at just over seven months gestation, was not yet fully developed, Sirius could only sympathise with a person's inability to rest while someone they loved was in trouble. Looking over to Harry, whose gaze was lost in the flickering flame of the candle in the centre of the table, Sirius could only wonder if the boy would ever know how Madison had resorted to drugging him in order to get him to sleep whilst the Triwizard Tournament was on.
At ten past five in the morning by Ron's watch – Sirius had come to not rely on his own since it always seemed to be inaccurate no thanks to his usage of Time Turners and living in two time zones – the kitchen door swung open and Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen. She was extremely pale, and for a moment Sirius felt bad for not having the foresight to at least pack the children off into another room so that the arriving woman could have a chance to collect herself before passing on her news; but when the three teenaged boys rose to their feet to greet the tired woman, she gave a wan smile.
"He's going to be all right," she confirmed Sirius' hopeful suspicions, her voice weak with tiredness. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now; he's going to take the morning off work."
Fred fell back into his chair with his hands over his face. George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to their mother and hugged her. Ron gave a very shaky laugh and downed the rest of his stale Butterbeer in one.
"Breakfast!" said Sirius loudly and joyfully, jumping to his feet. Madison was onto a good thing when she confided in him the value of food and how it could dispel any mood. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!"
But Kreacher did not answer the summons.
"Oh, forget it, then," muttered Sirius, counting the people in front of him, his lips curling into a smile as he began to speculate which, if any, of the people in the room would catch that he'd counted two too many. "So, it's breakfast for – let's see – nine… bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast - "
"Nine?" questioned Harry, coming up alongside him, the blessed boy intent on helping with breakfast. Sirius beamed proudly at his godson's deductive abilities.
"There's two more upstairs," he said nonchalantly. "I dare say they'll be lured down by the smell of bacon… you'll meet them soon enough."
"Oh," said Harry, evidently assuming, as planned, that Madison and James were mere Order members and thus, unimportant to him.
Before Sirius could take the opportunity to bait his godson some more – Gryffindor curiosity being so malleable – Mrs Weasley had swept the boy up in a hug and was thanking him thoroughly for saving her husband's life. When he noticed the look of discomfort on the boy's face, Sirius subtly drew attention to himself by clanging pans on the stove. As predicted, the weary Weasley woman turned her attentions from Harry and began to thank him for his hospitality. After assuring her that he really didn't mind having them to stay, and sincerely inviting the family to stay as long as it took, he had just been about to excuse himself, leaving the placated woman to the breakfast preparations to get her mind off of things, when Harry grabbed his attention.
"Sirius," Harry muttered, unable to stand it a moment longer. "Can I have a quick word? Er – now?"
Following his godson into the dark pantry, Sirius could only listen as Harry, without preamble, began to tell him the unabridged version of his vision. After assuring his godson that he was being unreasonable and that he wasn't going crazy… that he was in shock and needed to rest, he clapped the boy on the shoulder awkwardly and excused himself, bound for upstairs. Now, he decided, would not be a good time for Madison and Jamie to make their appearances… no, it was better to take breakfast to them and introduce them over lunch, once everyone had had some sleep.
"He blames himself," said Sirius bluntly, as he spoon fed Jamie some scrambled eggs and recounted the night's events to his wife, who was not entirely happy at having to wait a little while longer. "The connection is stronger than we could have anticipated, rising up within him while he was consciously aware of it."
"What does that mean?" asked Madison in a hushed whisper, her hands busying themselves braiding her hair. Looking at her husband's reflection in the mirror, where he sat behind her on their bed feeding their son, she halted her hands. "Is… is he safe?"
"We don't know," said Sirius, troubled. Merely implying that his godson could be an unwitting danger to himself and others was a hard pill to swallow, especially when a bulk of his firsthand memories of the boy involved a innocent, carefree toddler, much like his son was fast becoming. Pulling a face at his son, who was getting a little impatient at Sirius' distraction and reaching for the spoon in his hand, he steeled himself. "That he felt like attacking Dumbledore, but didn't, and that he could shake the Imperius Curse off last year is in his favour. Albus doesn't seem to think that Voldemort is even consciously aware of the connection, and that if he were, so long as Harry was surrounded by love, he can't fully possess him."
Madison lowered her hands and turned to face her husband, shaking her head.
"We all know he's not 'surrounded by love' over the summer," she said leadingly.
"Are you suggesting that we take him?" said Sirius hopefully. As much as he tried to convince himself that he was leaving Harry to his Muggle relatives for the sake of the Blood Wards and respecting Dumbledore's wishes, he just knew that he would change his mind in an instant if his wife told him otherwise.
"No," said Madison, closing the distance between the dresser and the bed so as to rest one knee on the edge of the mattress and lean in towards her husband. Kissing his nose, she held his gaze with cool determination glinting in her eyes. "I insist."
Grinning wildly at his wife's decision, Sirius turned his attention back to their squirming son, who was, by now, feeling slightly put out at not being the centre of attention. Blindly spooning a mouthful of food into the child's mouth to pacify him, he looked at his wife in question.
"You haven't even met him yet!" he said in disbelief. "What if you don't like him? Would you change your mind?"
"There's no way that I won't love him as much as you do, Sirius Black!" said Madison, sounding slightly put out. "Between Pensieve memories and how much you and Moony talk about him, he doesn't belong anywhere else, but with us."
His heart warmed by the unmovable decisiveness in his wife's tone, Sirius was overjoyed that he had found someone who could accept his godson and share his responsibility so unconditionally. Rising to settle their son down in his playpen, as soon as he had his hands free he clasped his wife's hands in his own and pulled her close.
"I love you forever, you know that?" he said huskily, too overwhelmed by the strength of his emotion to convey it physically.
"Ditto," Madison threw back at him, resting their foreheads together.
"Promise me something?" he asked solemnly. Ever since he had caught word of Arthur Weasley's attack, the question of his own mortality had niggled at the back of his mind, and now he sought reassurance.
"Anything," said Madison, her tone betraying that she likely had already anticipated what he was about to say, as usual.
"If anything ever happens to me…" he began, only to be cut off by Madison's fingers on his lips.
"Sirius…" she said quietly, shaking her head.
"No, Madison," said Sirius, shaking his head free from her fingers. "I need to say it."
"All right," said Madison softly, her eyes not leaving his.
Sirius took a breath.
"If anything ever happens to me…" he exhaled shakily and forced his eyes to stay fixed on the soft brown orbs of his wife's. "If anything ever happens to me, promise me that you'll take Harry away from all this?"
Madison nodded without hesitation, and Sirius went on to elaborate.
"Hopefully, he'll know everything by then, and he'll be old enough to not even need you… but if not, show him the Pensieve and do your best to explain? I love him so much, Mad, it hurts… it's going to tear my heart out to put him back on that train in three weeks, to have him not know what you and Jamie mean to me… to him. Promise me that he'll understand, and for Merlin's sake don't let Dumbledore push you into any corners."
"I won't," said Madison, straightening herself up and looking at her husband determinedly.
Sirius cut her off.
"I mean it, Madison… Dumbledore… he means well, but he can be as slippery as a Slytherin when he wants to be," said Sirius. "I can't update my Will without going to the Ministry, and so Harry stands to inherit everything unless Dumbledore registers the details of our marriage. You know he's not to do that until my name gets cleared, but if something happens to me before that happens, I have a feeling he'll put it off in order to deny your right to claim guardianship of Harry…"
When Madison opened her mouth to protest, Sirius silenced her with a hand to her mouth.
"As long as I am a fugitive, my rights are null and void, leaving him to those Muggles; but technically, if Dumbledore had filed the papers the day I married you, you would have acquired the right to guardianship as surely as if James and Lily had given it to you themselves. Pronglet could have been with us as early as last Christmas, but I listened to Dumbledore's concerns about safety and the boy's connection with Voldemort…"
He took a breath.
"Waiting for Molly to come back with news on Arthur, I realised that if we really put out minds to it, we could make Paradise Lodge as safe a sanctuary for all of us as this place here. All the reasons why we've been keeping Harry at arm's length have become redundant… hell, if Arthur wasn't in hospital and we had the privacy to explain everything to Harry right now, I would tell him everything."
He cupped his wife's face in his hands and smiled through the tears that were unwittingly cascading down his cheeks.
"He's going to know by summer, one way or another. Soon as the wards are up. He's going to come home. Promise me? Don't let me be talked out of it!"
"I promise," said Madison, whispering, tears of her own leaking from her eyes.
Kissing away his wife's tears, he pulled her into a hug and, burying his face into her hair, he tickled her ear with his lips as he continued to impart his urgent message.
"Don't let Dumbledore hold anything over you. He doesn't know it, but I switched the Marriage Certificate that morning on the beach… just in case he refuses to submit them. Moony and Andy know what to do, so don't worry about that. Once the date is recorded at the Ministry, you and Jamie will automatically become my heirs, and you will get to decide what happens with Harry if anything happens to me - "
"Which it won't," said Madison firmly, holding onto her husband tightly, feeling a little unsettled by his sudden desire to plan for a future without him present.
"Not if I can bloody well help it," Sirius agreed with his wife, feeling as though a weight had been lifted now that he had let his wishes be known to his wife. Cradling her face once more, he looked into her eyes a final time. "Promise me?"
"With all my heart and soul," Madison vowed. "I feel as though Harry is as much mine as Jamie is. Haven't I been trying to get you to bring him home since we married? I'll always only ever want what's best for him. You can count on me for that."
"Have I told you how much I love you?" said Sirius, looking as though he might break out into tears once more.
"Only twice in the past five minutes," said Madison teasingly. Steering her husband towards the bed, she turned down the sheets and, pushing him down on the mattress, proceeded to tuck him in like an infant. At his bewildered expression, she smirked. "Not what you were expecting me to do, eh? Need I remind you that our son is present in the room, and some of us need some sleep."
Sitting beside her husband as he drifted off to sleep – for he did still occasionally suffer from nightmares when left alone – Madison then busied herself playing with their son quietly and finishing off her breakfast, until she could hear the sounds of the other occupants of the house slipping up to bed to catch up on the sleep that had been lost. Once she was certain that the coast was clear, Madison gathered Jamie up in her arms, picked up a small carry-all full of toys, and headed downstairs to the living room so that Jamie could play on the rug by the magical Christmas Tree as she read some.
A few hours later, just before lunch, Madison's keen ears could pick up on the sound of scuffling footsteps coming down the stairs. With the house being made unplottable, noises from the traffic outside did not cross the threshold, and after being accustomed to the constant thrum of nature rustling in the wind and filling her house back home, the unnatural silence of the ancient house of Black made her particularly susceptible to the smallest of sounds. Spotting a blur of dark hair as it peeked in through the doorway before retreating shyly, Madison smiled wryly to herself and tried not to sound too excited as she spoke.
"Hello, Harry," she said as neutrally as possible. Looking up from her babbling son to catch the eye of the bewildered teenager who had reappeared in the doorway, she smiled disarmingly. "Couldn't sleep, eh?"
Harry frowned slightly and flattened his fringe over his forehead nervously. Madison had a feeling that had she not had a baby crawling around at her feet, he might have pulled his wand and mistaken her for an intruder; with a sad pang in her heart, she could hardly blame him.
"Who are you?" he asked quietly, not moving from the doorway.
"Madison O'Ryan," she said in a convincing Irish accent. Sirius had mentioned to her in passing whilst they were having lunch incognito in the middle of Diagon Alley the previous day, that it might raise too many questions if she were to come from a country so far away, and so she had been only too willing to put her natural abilities as a mimic to the test. Growing up, her mother had taken her around the world on her grandfather's yachts, and she had met people from all walks of life. Whilst her mother died when she was 11 and she had lived almost exclusively with her ailing father in the years that followed, regular trips with her maternal grandparents until their respective deaths and her budding clientele on the continent had ensured that her 'skills' were kept up to scratch.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs O'Ryan," said Harry, looking from the baby on the ground to her left ring finger before determining her title. "I'm Harry Potter, but I guess you already knew that."
Hearing the slight resentment in her unofficial godson's voice, Madison sought a way around it.
"Yep, but only because you're the only teenager under this roof who doesn't have red hair," she said, winking. "Don't worry, my powers of deduction astound even me!"
Feeling increasingly at ease, Harry slid a few steps into the room, curious eyes unable to leave the small person crawling around on the rug, completely oblivious to all else in the room as he busied himself chewing on pieces of the magical building block set Sirius had charmed for his son the moment they'd arrived.
"Who's that?" Harry blurted, his cheeks flushing red when he realised how abrupt he'd been in all his curiosity. He was halfway through an apology when Madison cut him off with a laugh.
"First of all, call me Madison… all my friends do," said Madison, looking at Harry pointedly. "Secondly, it should be me apologising for neglecting to introduce you to my unfortunate spawn. Harry, meet Jamie. Jamie… this is Harry."
Hearing his name being called, Jamie looked up at the strange bespectacled boy staring at him and smiled his gummy smile, which in turn caused a chain reaction with all the other occupants of the room. All too late did Madison realise that she had just introduced her son as 'Jamie', and not 'Patrick John' as what his identification as an O'Ryan read.
'Oh well,' she sighed to herself. The entire Order already knew who they really were, and it was not as though a bunch of teenagers would ask to see a baby's identification.
"How old is he?" asked Harry conversationally, stepping a little further into the room. Without preamble, Jamie crawled out of reach of his mother's grasp and torpedoed towards Harry… almost as though he could actually sense that this newcomer was asking after him. Suddenly finding himself with a barrel of drooling toddler clinging to his feet, Harry's face resembled a fish out of water as he stood, stock still, not knowing what to do with himself.
"It's okay," laughed Madison, knowing that in absence of a camera, she could always have her husband remove the memory from her mind for their Pensieve. "You can pick him up if you want."
"I… er… uh… how?" Harry spluttered, reaching down momentarily, only to straighten back up in horror, as though he was about to do something wrong.
"You haven't been around babies before, have you?" said Madison, shaking her head n a bid not to laugh at the scene before her. "It's all right… he wouldn't have come to you if he didn't want you to pick him up."
"He… he wants me to pick him up?" said Harry in shock, mouth agape. "Why me?"
Sensing that Harry's sense of self-worth had been damaged by the time spent with his Muggle relatives, Madison fought the protective demon that threatened to rear its head and smother both boys with love and assurance. Keeping herself in check when she reminded herself that she was not supposed to figure very highly in Harry's life until the truth came out that following summer, she took a deep breath, vowing to use her son as her conduit.
"Why not?" she quipped. "Babies are said to be great judges of character, you know, and Jamie here is pretty intuitive for a nine month old. I don't think I've seen him head for a stranger as quickly as he abandoned me for you!"
Looking down at the baby in disbelief, concern passed over Harry's features when the child began to grizzle.
"Is he okay?" said Harry, panicking slightly.
"He's fine," said Madison. "He's just getting sulky because you're ignoring him – you'd better pick him up, unless you want to have him start wailing!"
Eyes wide, Harry automatically bent down and swooped the child up in his arms; once he had quelled any risk of the infant crying and waking up the household, he stood there uncomfortably, not quite knowing how to hold the child.
"It's okay, he won't break," said Madison, getting far too much enjoyment out of this than what she thought was right.
"What if I am holding him too tightly?" said Harry, reflexively loosening his grip, only to panic and hold tight again once the boy started squirming, becoming a little irritated that he was being held out like a sack of potatoes and not cuddled close how he was accustomed to being held. "What if I drop him?"
"Don't worry, he'll bounce," said Madison with a laugh. Noticing the disgruntled look on her son's face, she nodded towards the infant; "and don't worry, he'll let you know if you're doing something wrong."
"Oh…" said Harry, holding the child up so as to have Jamie's face in his eye line. He was halfway through saying hello to the child when he recognised the indignant look on the baby's face as an expression that was permanently ingrained on his cousin's face whenever the whale of a boy did not get his way. Looking over the baby's shoulder in alarm, he looked towards Madison for help. Defeat in his tone, he closed the distance between them and held out her son to her. "I don't think he likes me!"
"Nonsense," Madison shook her head, nudging her son in the back, pushing him back towards the bewildered Boy-Who-Lived. "Hold him closer, you big oaf! Try to look at it from Jamie's perspective – how would you like to be held up four feet in the air, at arm's length? Seat him in the crook of your arm and balance his weight on your hip… let him get a hold of your shirt… that's it!"
Watching as Harry awkwardly followed her advice, and paying specific attention to how her son babbled happily in his arms, Madison's heart melted when she saw the effect Jamie's acceptance was having on Harry. It became all too clear that Harry had not really had anyone who had, in his living memory anyway, taken to him so innocently, without him first being someone's son, or the Boy-Who-Lived.
"I think you've found yourself a friend for life," said Madison cryptically, smiling as Jamie gripped little hands around Harry's neck and began to slobber on his ear; the toddler having shortly given up on trying to wretch the boy's glasses from his face.
"Is he chewing on my ear?" said Harry in disbelief, looking as though he didn't know whether to be amused at the tickling sensation, or grossed out.
Madison couldn't hold it in any longer, she laughed.
"If you want him to stop, you have to distract him," suggested Madison, once she had regained control over her voice. Reaching over and snapping her fingers by her son's ear, she called to him. "Jamie, Jamie! Look at Mama… Harry can't understand the secrets you are trying to tell him! No, he can't! C'mon, Jamie – Bear, save your whispering for when you can say words, hmm?"
Harry watched on, speechless, as mother interacted with son, a small pang situating itself in his heart as he witnessed firsthand the kind of tolerant attention he had missed out on for almost his entire life. Realising, then, that Jamie had made no move to reach out for his mother, but was now resting contently on his hip, clapping his hands and babbling at him, Harry found that he didn't want to let the kid go just yet.
"You're a natural," said Madison happily, after Harry had instinctively sat himself on the ground and began playing with the blocks with Jamie on his lap. The revelation that Harry appeared to be as fascinated by the charmed blocks as her son, remained an unspoken observation until Harry drew attention to it.
"I think I'm having as much fun as your son," he admitted sheepishly, tearing his eyes away from the magical toys that were scattered before them. "I didn't get to see any of this, growing up Muggle, I mean…"
Madison nodded in understanding, but knew that Harry was talking about more than just magical toys. Fighting back the urge to probe him with questions and declare her loyalty to him, she decided to play dumb and extract answers from him in a more round about fashion.
"Did you have any younger kids around you while you were growing up?" she asked casually. "You're very patient with him, I mean."
"No, my cousin is a month older than me," said Harry distractedly, his sense of safety and security when in the company of this strange woman and her son causing him to open up unwittingly. "I always wondered what it would be like to have a younger brother or sister though… you know, to have a little someone to look out for and have follow me around;" his eyes slipped out of focus as he became even more unguarded. "It wasn't until I met the Weasleys that I saw that it was even possible for two children growing up in the same home to get along…"
"You don't get along with your cousin, then?" asked Madison, leaping on the opportunity to ask the question.
"No," said Harry shortly, a bit of wariness creeping into his eyes. "Even though there's only a month between us, I was always so much smaller than him, and he treated me like I saw all the other kids treating their younger siblings at school; only I got it worse since I was just his cousin and not a direct relation."
Madison had wanted to hug Harry to her at that moment and never let go, but she restrained herself. She wanted to scowl and curse the Dursleys for segregating Harry in their household and letting him believe that to be anything less than a son or a brother made him inferior… a burden. Just like with Sirius, Madison found she could read a lot further into Harry's demeanour than what he visibly let on, and as she sensed the amount of pain and rejection his relatives had dealt to him over the years, she wanted nothing more than to break her promise to Sirius and tell him everything, then and there.
As though he were channelling his father, Jamie chose that moment to bite down a little too hard on a block, causing him to cut another tooth and start crying. Her attention swiftly removed from all she wanted to tell Harry, she assured the panicking boy that Jamie's distress was quite normal for a teething baby and his sudden crying had nothing to do with anything he may have done. Regretfully excusing herself to take Jamie upstairs for some teething gel and a nap, she promised admitted that she wasn't sure when they would be able to resume their conversation, but promised that he could play with Jamie whenever he wanted, provided that he promised to be responsible for him when around the other teenagers. At the thought of being chosen for a task based on his own qualifications and not his reputation as the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry beamed, and was left alone in the room to secretly play with Jamie's blocks – which Madison had purposefully left behind – feeling, for the first time, that he had a purpose in life outside of being the Dursley's slave or Hogwarts' Hero: he was now trusted to be the preferred babysitter of a nine-month-old baby.
"I can't believe I missed it," said Sirius for the hundredth time since reliving his wife and son's meeting with Harry in their Pensieve. "You should have woken me up!"
"No way," said Madison, "you needed sleep, and having you there would have been like a security blanket for Harry. With just him and I in the room, with Jamie, he had no choice but to make conversation with me…" she cast him a coy look. "Besides, I am not entirely confident that you are able to be in the same room as me yet and not come across as a lovesick husband. Maybe when we're in a crowded room you can, but I don't think we'd have been able to keep it up with just the four of us in a room, do you?"
"You're right… as usual…" growled Sirius exasperatedly, flopping back on the bed he was sitting on, replaying this godson's morning in his mind. Remus had arrived shortly after Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks had turned up to accompany Molly and the kids to St Mungo's, and together they had seen to it that a connecting door between Madison's room and his own was created, unable to be seen by eyes that did not first know it was there.
Jamie having slept through lunch, had exhausted himself attempting to eat a late lunch which his father and 'uncle' had attempted to feed him after everyone had left. Feeling no guilt at leaving Remus to tidy the food-tornado that had hit the kitchen, Sirius had insisted on 'helping' Madison put their son down for his afternoon nap, something that both had been rather keen to do now that they had a separate bedroom at their disposal.
"Don't you feel any shame at all?" said Madison after checking on their sleeping son one last time before closing the interconnecting door behind her softly and pouncing on her husband on the bed. "Moony's downstairs all alone, and he's not an idiot…"
Sirius harrumphed and rolled them over, reversing their positions.
"Right, and either he accepts that Jamie was an immaculate conception, or he acknowledges full well that we have silencing charms around our room and go at it like rabbits every chance we get!"
"You better not kiss and tell, Sirius Black!" said Madison, horrified that she may not ever be able to look her husband's best friend in the eyes again.
"Mmmm.." murmured Sirius distractedly, nuzzling her neck and inhaling her perfume. "I'll have you know that I am far too breathless after kissing you to say much of anything…"
"So I've noticed," said Madison wryly, snaking her arms around her husband's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. "Now shut up and kiss me!"
"What about Moony?" said Sirius teasingly, pulling back.
Growling softly, Madison craned her neck upwards and peppered her husband's face with kisses, kissing him between each word.
"Bugger – it! – He – is – a – grown – man! – If – he – is – lonely – he – can – read – a – bloody – book! – Not – our – fault – that – he – thwarts – all – our – attempts – to – match – him – up - "
Sirius cut her off, and reversed their roles, this time smothering her in kisses between words; only his had a more defined sense of direction and purpose.
"No – more – talking – about – Moony – in – bed!" he growled, a pained expression on his face.
Their mouths were demonstrably too preoccupied to form words after that.
END CHAPTER: OK, that's about as explicit as I get at romantic mush…
NEXT CHAPTER? Harry gets to baby sit, Ron almost has a panic attack, and Jamie gets a new Marauder nick name after he drives Snape to the nearest… Laundromat?
DUE: First week of December.