Disclaimer: No… not mine…
Updated: Saturday 9 December 2006
Chapter Four: Marauders at Play
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sirius asked his wife as she struggled to get a wiggling leg inside a powder-blue romper suit. "It's his first Christmas…"
"Yes, and I've been up with him since four, thanks to our son's stubborn determination to not acclimatise to this time zone!" said Madison shortly. Realising that she was losing patience, she stopped and took a calming breath. "Look, don't make me feel like a rotten mother, all right? I am only listening to what my traitorous body needs… and right now, that is another three hours sleep;" she zipped up her son's fleecy romper in triumph. "Harry doesn't know you are Jamie's father, and I think now is the perfect opportunity to give them some time together. I know it is Christmas morning, but I also know first hand what it's like to wake up to all your friends opening presents from their parents and feeling left out… and so do you. Holidays just aren't the same after you've lost your parents; trust me Harry will welcome the distraction."
"I don't feel right about dumping Jamie on him though," said Sirius quietly, his voice pained by the reminder that James and Lily could not be there for their son. "We don't know Harry well enough to know what he'd want - "
"I didn't 'know' you well enough that morning on the beach to open my home, and my heart, to you that day," said Madison pointedly; "but I did it, and you want to know why? Intuition…" – she smiled at her husband – "…I got it right with you, didn't I? Trust me on this? Please, Sirius, you know I can't be seen giving Harry an actual present… let me do this for him at least!"
"You want to give Harry our son for Christmas?" said Sirius with an incredulous smirk.
"Only until after breakfast," said Madison. "You did say you wanted to watch them interact. C'mon, it'll do him good to feel trusted with the task, I know it will! The poor kid's been down about something ever since they got back from St Mungo's, Sirius, and I can't take him into my arms and squeeze the pain out of him, like I want to. I can't show him how I feel about him, so please, Sirius, let me at least show him that I trust him with our son!"
Taken aback by just how much his wife had thought about his and how strongly she felt about giving Harry the chance to not only bond with Jamie, but be shown that he was trusted in that way, Sirius relented.
"Y'know, Molly is going to try and take him off his hands," said Sirius, "and I'm going to have a hard time being at the breakfast table and slacking off-"
"Oh, like you've never done that before!" said Madison knowingly, leaving Sirius no room to argue. Balancing Jamie on her hip, she reached over to a small slip of parchment that she had left on her bedside table. Holding it out to Sirius, she gave it to him and left him to read it whilst she busied herself with wrapping a piece of tinsel around Jamie's waist. "I think you'll see I left rather explicit instructions."
Sirius' eyes scanned the note quickly, biting back a laugh at how possessive and untrusting towards everyone but Harry Madison was making herself sound. Looking up to find his wife tying a piece of tinsel to their son's romper, he couldn't hold back.
"Merlin, don't tell me you are wrapping him up!" he guffawed, snorting so hard he had to rub his nose.
"Well, no, not really," said Madison, holding her son up and tossing him into the air slightly to admire her handiwork. Catching him deftly and tickling the squirming baby mercilessly, she scolded her husband above their child's giggles. "I needed something to tie the note to, you dumb arse! Hand it over!"
"So, wait, you're just going to set Jamie loose in their room and not even wake Harry up to ask his permission first?" said Sirius, inwardly wishing he could be there in the room when his godson awoke to find himself in sole charge of a baby. "Are you sure you don't want a Marauder nickname?"
"You call me anything other than what we've already discussed and you know the consequences!" Madison warned in a sing-song voice, busy pulling faces at their son.
Sirius knew better than to question his wife's motives when she resorted to addressing him in baby talk, for it generally meant that if she used her normal tone, she'd scare more than just the baby. Instead, he contented himself with watching on in rapt attention as the mother of his child imparted her instructions to the attentive infant.
"Right, now you will be a good boy for Harry, won't you?" she cooed. "He's going to be super nervous and worried about making you upset, so no cutting your teeth, all right, young man? Just keep smiling that Gummy-bear smile and don't forget to tell him just how important he is to us! He can't understand you yet, but one day he will, and one day you will want to tell him all the secrets you don't want to tell Mummy and Daddy, and he will remember these days when you tried to talk to him fondly. Yes he will, my little man! Now come on, let's you say goodbye to Daddy… remember he is just Sirius again and you don't know him-"
Sirius scowled playfully at his wife and accepted their son in his arms.
"You look after Harry for me, kiddo," he said seriously, unable to avoid the grin that came when his son's head lolled back and forth slowly, the concentrated look on his face suggesting that he understood. "Daddy can't be a proper godfather to Harry right now, and so he needs you to make him smile. You do that for Harry today and you will make Daddy so proud, all right Junior? Do you accept your first mission as a Marauder?"
When Jamie began to babble excitedly and clap his hands, Sirius had to ask himself if his son really could understand what they were asking of them. Goodbyes dispensed with – a 'kiss' from his son invariably leaving his nose with covered in drool – Sirius ran a sleeve across his face and handed Jamie back to Madison.
"You might want to change him first," he suggested; "he had that look on his face again, and I don't think Harry's ready for that yet."
Madison scowled and promptly handed Jamie back to his father.
"You do it," she said primly. "You're the one with a wand and magic – he hates getting changed the Muggle way."
"He has to get used to it," said Sirius distantly. Realising the ramifications of what he said, he corrected himself, lest he cast a shadow over the holiday. "I mean, it's not fair that I should have to do it all the time!"
Madison peered at him through narrowed eyes, seeing straight through his cover and knowing what he had originally intended to say; the words 'if something should happen to me' still echoing in her head from their previous conversation. Deciding, like her husband, to not let such dark thoughts dampen their holiday spirit, she shook her head, still refusing to take her son back.
"I'll do the next one… I want Jamie with Harry before he wakes up, and I'll take too long. Do me a favour and drop him off? I need to get some more sleep…"
Seeing his wife's exhaustion, and feeling altogether guilty that she had taken it upon herself to let him sleep in an extra two hours in his own room, which he had slept in just in case Harry had been an early riser and sought him out, he accepted the task with a nod and nudged her back towards her room.
"I'll take care of it," he said softly, expertly settling their son down on the dresser to change him. Catching his wife's eyes as she glanced back at them one more time from the doorway of their connecting rooms, he smiled. "Thank you… for doing this for Harry. It is a rather brilliant idea…"
Madison could only smile warmly at her husband in acknowledgement, before turning and disappearing into the peace of her empty bedroom, burying herself into the folds of her discarded blankets and falling back asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
Harry awoke moments after Sirius had left the bedroom, to find a small weight settled on his chest. It had been a glob of drool on his face that had woken him initially, though the sharp tug of sticky fingers latching onto his hair came a close second in bringing him to his senses. Sitting up sharply, Harry would have rolled the baby onto the floor had it not been for his quick reflexes. The questions of where the child's mother was, and what the baby was doing in his room Christmas morning slipped to the back of his mind as he became more concerned with keeping the child from crying. While he had no experience with babies, he knew from observing his aunt and uncle with his cousin that once a child started to cry, it was no picnic trying to get them to stop.
To his pleasant surprise – and relief – his actions thus far had only caused the child to babbly happily and giggle through his infectious gummy smile. Returning the gesture, Harry could only watch on in fascination as Jamie, upon realising that he was the centre of attention, began to ham up the cuteness, his smile becoming increasingly wider.
"I don't think it'd ever be possible for anyone to ever tell you off!" whispered Harry, mindful not to wake Ron, who, in the absence of snores, had to be close to waking up unaided. Noticing the scroll of parchment dangling from a piece of tinsel attached to the baby's soft romper, Harry carefully extracted the note and, retrieving his glasses from his nightstand and perching them on his nose, began to read:
Dear Harry,
I do hope I am not imposing upon your Christmas morning by leaving Jamie with you like this, but the little blighter's had me up since four and I am hoping for the chance to have a kip before lunch. Jamie's not really met any of the other children yet, and of the adults, I can only trust Molly to be responsible with him, except Jamie doesn't seem to like red hair and poor Molly has enough on her plate, I really wouldn't want to add to it. I would greatly appreciate it if you could watch him for a few hours, just until it's time to start getting ready for lunch. In all likelihood he'll probably be ready for a nap shortly after breakfast; he's already eaten too, but he's a little glutton if there ever was one and will probably insist on joining you – just give him a piece of toast to chew on and he'll be happy. If you have any problems or questions I am sure Mrs Weasley will be only too insistent to impart her knowledge, and if he needs changing at all, just dump him on Sirius' lap; he's your godfather, and so he cannot claim to not have experience with dirty nappies.
As much as I would appreciate this, I would understand it if you would prefer to spend the morning alone with your friends. If he gets too much, just sneak him into my room and place him in his playpen – he'll wake me when he needs something.
Merry Christmas, Harry,
-Madison
By the time Harry had finished reading the woman's note, Harry was blushing furiously at the implication that Sirius had ever changed his nappy. Having been unavoidably estranged from the man for over twelve years, he was unfamiliar with looking upon his godfather as one who had been there for him while he was an infant. As though realising for the first time that Sirius had in fact been there for the first formative year of his life, Harry found himself overwhelmed with questions about his life as a baby, and his parents; he even found himself secretly wishing for little Jamie to take a dump so that he could watch Sirius change him – he'd never seen it being done, let alone the magical way.
Sitting up against the bed head, Harry rested his feet flat on the mattress and balanced the happy little baby on his knees.
"What am I going to do with you?" he whispered, making a face at the baby; feeling a strange sense of accomplishment when his antics were rewarded with another smile. "You're a happy little fella, aren't you?"
Meanwhile, across from him, Ron rolled over and stirred. As though realising for the first time that there was another occupant in the room, and that said occupant was not paying attention to him, Jamie clapped his hands loudly and squealed, causing Ron to wake up with a jolt and scramble up into a sitting position when he saw their unexpected guest.
"Blimey, Harry, who's that?" he asked, feeling slightly panicked by the idea of being one of two teenagers alone with an infant. There had only been a year's difference between he and Ginny, and from what little he could remember of his younger sister's formative years, the baby was never left alone with any of the boys.
"This?" said Harry, pulling another face at the baby, answering his friend's question without looking away from the infant. "Why…" he paused, thinking of a brilliant prank he could play on his friend. While Madison had been introduced to the rest of the teenagers in passing, none of them had seemed to of seen Jamie. The plan formulating in his mind, he smiled widely. "This is my Christmas present. I think I'll name him Jamie… for my Dad…"
Ron spluttered and gasped in shock, almost falling over his feet in his rush to stand.
"Bloody hell, Harry, you can't be serious!" said Ron. "How did a kid just land itself in our bedroom? He has to belong to someone! You can't honestly expect to keep him… what about school?"
Unable to contain his mirth, Harry began to laugh.
"Relax, Ron, I was only pulling your chain," he said. "But he is mine… for the morning at least." Grinning smugly at his friend's unwavering confusion, he elaborated. "His name really is Jamie, y'know. He's Madison's son… you know, that brunette woman with the tan? She's actually staying here for the holidays, but just hasn't come down much. I don't think she and Jamie are used to large groups of people or something."
Ron nodded slowly, feeling a little more at ease as he gathered the courage to settle himself on the edge of Harry's bed and stare at the small baby in fascination. Being home schooled in his formative years, the only memory of small children Ron had, was of freckled kids with red hair.
"Hey there, kid…" he ventured forth to address the child. Looking up at Harry when Jamie did nothing but screw up his face at him and rub at his nose with the back of his hand, craning his neck to hide in the crook of Harry's shoulder, Ron frowned. "How come he knows you so well?"
"That day we all went to St Mungo's, and slept through to lunch before hand," said Harry, "I woke up early and met Jamie and his mum downstairs. I actually thought they'd left to go spend Christmas wherever they live, with family, but then I wake up with baby drool over my face and a note from his mother…"
"A note?" said Ron, his eyes looking around searchingly. "Let's see…"
"Jamie killed it," lied Harry, not quite knowing how his best friend would take Mad's comments about Mrs Weasley. "Was just some boring instructions and stuff. He'll be out of our hands by lunch, I expect-"
"Our hands?" said Ron incredulously, shaking his head. "Whoa no, mate, you're in this on your own. I don't want to be responsible for no kid!"
"You'll follow me in the Chamber of Secrets to face a Basilisk, but you won't help me watch after a kid for a morning?" said Harry, one brow raised.
"Harry, you obviously don't know my mother," said Ron, shuddering slightly. "She gets absolutely mental when she's got a baby on her hip. Us lot weren't allowed anywhere near Ginny by ourselves until she was old enough to tattle on us."
"Your loss," said Harry, shrugging, as he picked up Jamie carefully and moved towards the foot of his bed, where a small pile of presents lay waiting. "I'm going to open my presents now… do you want to help me, Jamie?"
The next few minutes passed quietly, with nothing but the sounds of childish squeals and tearing paper filling the room.
"Blimey, Harry, be careful, will you? He could choke on that paper if he puts it in his mouth!" said Ron, red and flustered and looking as though he might keel over from a panic attack at any moment.
Compared to him, Harry was remarkably upbeat. He didn't know how he wasn't simply falling to pieces under the weight of the responsibility bestowed upon him, and he didn't know just how he was able to feel so quickly at ease with the child in his care, but he suspected that the trust Madison had placed in him by dropping Jamie off in the first place had something to do with this sudden burst of confidence.
"Don't worry, Ron," said Harry, tugging Jamie's wrist away from his mouth as the baby attempted to stuff a wad of wrapping paper into his mouth. "I'm making sure he doesn't eat it."
Sure enough, however, Jamie soon began to think that Harry trying to keep his paper-filled hands from his mouth was some sort of hilarious game. Happy that the child was giggling manically, but tiring of continuously being on his guard, ensuring that the child didn't ingest something not fit for consumption, Harry quickly found himself growing frustrated.
'Just distract him' Madison's words echoed in his ear, which he instinctively reached up to rub, as though Jamie had just been slobbering on it, like he had the morning he and Madison had met.
Pulling over his homework planner, which was his gift from Hermione, Harry sought to capture Jamie's attention by opening and closing it in front of the child, triggering it's verbose warnings each time the page opened. On the third 'Do it today or later you'll pay!', Jamie discarded the wads of wrapping paper in his hand and reached out for the talking book, babbling back at it excitedly.
"Ron… a little help!" said Harry in alarm, as Jamie then took to gripping the corners of the pages in his planner, trying to tear them out.
"Here!" said Ron, tossing Harry the small, working model of a Firebolt that Tonks had bought for the bespectacled teen.
As soon as the broom had taken flight across the room, Jamie's head snapped up preternaturally, and he watched, transfixed, as the broom began to run circles around him, always staying out of reach.
"Ah, you like that, do you?" said Harry, immediately identifying with the small child's fascination with broomsticks, inwardly wondering if he had been the same when it had come to watching his own father fly as an infant. "Does your Daddy fly you on his broom?" he mused aloud. "Do you even have a Daddy anymore? I hope you do… though you are lucky to have Madison as your mum. She's just like I always imagined my Mum was like with me, you know…"
Harry's musings were cut off by Ron clearing his throat. Realising that his best friend was still in the room, and looking at him rather strangely, Harry blushed and bowed his head. Jamie was now in his lap playing with the wild wallet Hagrid had bought him, delighting in petting the furry side of the wallet's hide with one hand, whilst avoiding getting his fingers snapped off as he poked his hand towards the wallet's fang-like clasp with the other.
"That's one gutsy kid," marvelled Ron, paling at the viciousness of the animated wallet, unable to comprehend how the small child could find it so funny.
"He's going to grow up and be in Gryffindor, aren't you, Jamie?" said Harry, grinning.
In a bid to keep the intuitive child stimulated, Harry had soon taken to showing the boy his other presents. Much to his relief, Jamie did not look as though he was about to tear out the pages of the books Sirius and Remus had given him; the small child being too enthralled by the moving illustrations to want to destroy the paper. No sooner had he spread out the painting Dobby had made for him, both in a bid to try and figure out what it was and to make Jamie laugh some more, did Fred and George Apparate at the foot of the bed with a loud crack.
"Merry Christmas," said George. Then, seeing Jamie, he gaped. "Bloody hell!"
"George, I think Jamie's mother would appreciate it if you refrained from swearing in front of him!" said Harry by way of introduction. Unbeknownst to the occupants of the room, the Boy-Who-Lived had reverted to communicating in a sing-song voice, much like how Madison would talk when she didn't want to let on to Jamie how she really felt. Recognising the tone, little Jamie could only keep on smiling his innocent, gummy smile.
"Merlin, Harry…" said Fred, shaking his head in disbelief. "What happened? Did you find yourself an older girlfriend? You dog! Who's the mother?"
Harry began to splutter indignantly.
"He's not mine! I just turned fifteen, for crying out loud!" said Harry in horror. It wasn't that he didn't want to have kids one day, but by Merlin's beard, he couldn't even get a date!
All of a sudden, Fred and George started laughing heartily.
"We so had you!" said George.
"I can't believe you'd think that we thought…" Fred's voice trailed off as he exploded into more laughter.
His twin stepped in and finished the sentence. "… that he was yours! What do you take us for?"
"We know it's Madison's little sprog," said Fred.
"How did you know that?" said Harry dumbly.
"Harry, c'mon, it's not like she's actively hiding him from everyone," said George in a condescending voice. "She's just been introducing him to people a little at a time -"
"-Mum was the same with Ginny and Ron," said Fred. "Shy little buggers they were, could you believe it?"
"Jamie, isn't it?" said George, venturing forward to hold out his arms towards the little boy. "C'mon, come to your Uncle Georgie!"
Surprisingly, Jamie was wise, and squirmed away from George in favour of clinging to Harry for dear life. His experience with several younger siblings telling him that he was defeated, George backed away.
"Well, never thought I'd see the day that a kid could repel the Weasley charm!" he said, feigning hurt. "What have you told him about us, Harry? I thought we were your friends!"
Harry was just about to apologise to the twins and reassure them that he had not exerted any influence over the child; that he did consider them friends, when he realised almost too late that they were again teasing him.
"Kid has a good sense of judgement, if you ask me," he snorted, smiling down conspiringly at the little boy who was now trying to climb over his leg and crawl away. "His mum left him with me you know. No one else!"
The two older boys laughed at Harry good-naturedly, and settled themselves down on either side of his bed. Feeling slightly left out, Ron threw a wad of wrapping paper over their heads, aiming for the bin, and commanded their attention.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked defensively. He knew from experience that a visit from the twins was never what it appeared. "Don't go pulling any pranks while the kid's in here…"
"We're not here to pull a prank… honest!" said Fred.
"Yeah, we just came to tell you not to go downstairs for a bit," said George gravely.
"Why not?" said Ron suspiciously, though he was thankfully for the twins warning if they had indeed planned a prank on other occupants of the house.
"Mum's crying again," said Fred heavily, crushing Ron's hope that the reasons had been something a little more light-hearted. "Percy sent back his Christmas jumper."
"Without a note," added George. "Hasn't asked how Dad is or visited him or anything."
"We tried to comfort her," said Fred, moving around the bed to look at Harry's portrait. "Told her Percy's nothing more than a humungous pile of rat droppings."
As Fred had said the last part, he had adopted a silly tone and pulled a face at Jamie, who giggled and reached out for his nose. Triumphant, Fred smiled and ruffled the baby's light curls. Helping himself to a Chocolate Frog and sitting between Harry and his younger brother, between the two beds, George joined his twin in trying to win Jamie over.
"Didn't work," he said conversationally, over Jamie's head as the baby became enthralled with seeing two identical faces on either side of him. "So Lupin took over. Best let him cheer him up before we go down for breakfast, I reckon… though I s'pose if you were to go dump Jamie in her lap, that'd probably distract her plenty."
Harry wrapped his arms around Jamie possessively and shook his head. Repeating Madison's instructions to himself, he insisted to the others that he didn't want to shirk his responsibility by adding to all their mother had to do that morning.
Once downstairs, Harry was not surprised to find that Hermione and Ginny had yet to meet Jamie. Upon seeing her best friend cautiously creep down the stairs, careful not to drop the baby on his hip, Hermione had looked a little befuddled, and Harry had secretly enjoyed catching his know-all friend at a loss. Being an only child herself, it quickly became apparent that she was completely out of her element when it came to interacting with a baby and seeing to their needs, and though Harry was hardly an old hand at it himself, he felt insanely proud that he was coping, realising for the first time, what Madison must have meant about him being a 'natural'. Until now, he'd just assumed that all teenagers would be the same as he around a baby, and now he was finding that even the Weasley children, who had grown up surrounded by each other, were uncomfortable with being alone with a baby without parental supervision.
Whilst Hermione led the others towards the back of the kitchen, where Kreacher was supposed to live in a cupboard beside the boiler, Harry had hung back with Jamie and struck up a conversation with Sirius, who was extracting things from the pantry for lunch later in the day and muttering about Kreacher.
"You're good with him," Sirius observed casually, trying to avoid his son's eye contact as the little boy's face lit up, tiny arms reaching for him. "You're okay watching him, aren't you? I mean, if you have a problem with sharing Christmas morning with the little fella, I could take him off your hands for a bit…"
"His mum wanted me to watch him," said Harry firmly, taking the responsibility to heart as he puffed out his chest proudly.
"She picked the right person for the job, then," said Sirius considerately, smiling slightly. "Y'know, when you were born, James used to boast that all Potters had the Midas touch with children…" his voice trailed off as he lost himself in the memory. "I'll never forget the look on his face when you came tearing towards me first when we both arrived back from a mission. Prongs always maintained that it was only because I was standing closer to you, or some rot, but I swear it was because you were consciously trying to put your dad in his place. You really are your father's son, Pronglet."
"Pronglet?" Harry's brows rose above his hairline. "Is that what you used to call me?"
"It's your Marauder's nickname," said Sirius. Catching himself before he revealed that Jamie was his son, he quickly covered his tracks. "Much like any son of mine will be called Padfoot Junior."
"That's a bit of a mouthful, isn't it?" said Harry thoughtfully, unwittingly shifting said child on his hip. Remembering the name of an animated dinosaur, from a movie he had seen in school many years earlier, he thought of an alternative. "Why not something like 'Little Foot'? I know you're Padfoot and not Big Foot, but - "
"Harry!" Sirius cut him off, gripping both of his shoulder and smiling widely with pride and excitement. "That's bloody brilliant!"
"Ah, yes, well, I'll be sure to hold you at that when you go off and have kids," said Harry, slightly unnerved by his godfather's sudden exuberance. Not noticing, then, how the man's face fell – for Sirius quickly busied himself with the Turkey and Harry was distracted by Jamie – Harry heard his friends calling him and excused himself, thinking nothing of how much their passing conversation had meant to his godfather.
"Little Foot," said Madison aloud, trying the name out on her tongue. "Now why didn't I think of that? I remember that movie!"
Sirius could only stare at his wife blankly, prompting her to explain the premise behind the animated children's movie, 'The Land Before Time'. Once done, she beamed from her husband and son in turn. "I like it… suits him well… especially since you always used to call him 'our little one' before he was born."
"I remember," said Sirius, coming up behind his wife and wrapping his arms around mother and child.
"Oh, how touching," a snivelling voice drawled from the doorway in disgust. "By all means, continue… we all know how inept you Gryffindors are at subtlety."
"What the hell do you want, Snape?" growled Sirius, stiffening slightly and instinctively moving to stand in front of his wife and child. "The next meeting is not until Friday, or were you unsure of that fact without a tattoo on your skin to burn you a reminder?"
Severus had his wand drawn in an instant, but Sirius stood firm.
"You wouldn't dare," he taunted, knowing too well that Severus hexing an unarmed wizard in front of a Muggle and baby would not bode well with the headmaster, no matter what he may say to provoke the slimy-haired git.
An unreadable expression passing over Snape's face before he sheafed his wand and straightened, catching Sirius unawares by his sudden compliance.
"Very well," said Snape in clipped tones. Reaching into his robes to pull out a letter, he held it out to his childhood nemesis. "From Dumbledore."
Quickly scanning the note, his features darkening with every word he read, Sirius handed it over for his wife to read before suggesting that she go upstairs and fetch Harry. Searching his eyes to make sure that she would not come back to find Snape in pieces all over the kitchen – not that she considered that much of a loss, save for the punitive effect that it would have on her husband – she glared levelly at the hateful man that always seemed to bring out the worst in her husband, and left the room with Jamie.
Leading Harry back down into the kitchen a few moments later, Madison hung back and waited for the fireworks to start.
"Sit down, Potter."
"You know," said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see."
An ugly flush suffused Snape's pallid face. Harry sat down in a chair beside Sirius, facing Snape across the table. Madison hovered in the doorway and watched on, the wheels turning over in her mind.
"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, "but Black - "
"I'm his godfather," said Sirius, louder than ever. Behind him, Madison conveyed her silent support to her husband. She'd not thought much when Sirius had warned her that Dumbledore may try to manipulate her when it came to Harry, but now she was beginning to realise just how much of a hold the unofficial leader of the free world seemed to have over his former students.
"I'm here on Dumbledore's orders," said Snape, whose voice, by contrast, was becoming more and more quietly waspish, "but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel… involved."
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Sirius, letting his chair fall back on to all four legs with a loud bang.
Sensing that things were about to quickly get out of hand, Madison thought on her feet and was inspired by a truly ludicrous idea. Knowing full well that Severus Snape would not dare mistreat an infant whilst in full view of the child's over-protective father and an equally protective teenager, and that said father and teenager could not physically attack said greasy git whilst he had a 'human shield' she set her plan in motion. Breezing past her husband and whispering a few words into his ears, calling upon him to trust her, she by-passed Harry and headed straight for Snape, wiggling baby in her arms.
"Be a peach, Sevvie, and watch him for a bit?" she said in a sickeningly sweet tone, unceremoniously dumping Jamie on the man's lap. "I do wish for him to experience a whole range of influences in his formative years…" leaning down to kiss her child on the head, she leant in close to Snape's ear as she straightened – as close as she dared without actually coming in physical contact with his greasy locks – "… it's for your own protection. You can thank me later."
Without further ado, Madison pulled herself up to her full height and left the room without a backwards glance. No one had to know that she was intending on waiting just inside the closed kitchen door, listening out for her son's unlikely cry, and that she'd invariably nag Sirius to see his memory of the exchange as soon as she next got him alone. In her wake, Severus could only sit rigidly, not moving a muscle, as he acquainted himself with the unfamiliar weight of a baby settling down in his lap. Looking up at the two other occupants in the room, he was unsurprised to see the Potter brat looking as though ready to leap across the table, but was perturbed by the smug look on his nemesis' face.
"Get this brat away from me, Black," he scowled, careful to keep his voice down, lest he find himself with an armful of screaming toddler. As much as he wanted nothing more than to dump the baby on the floor, he knew that with all the dirt and jagged rock on the ground he'd never hear the end of it if he 'thoughtlessly' endangered the brat in that way. Between the Muggle wench, his childhood nemesis, the Potter brat, Dumbledore, and the mother of all the red-headed abominations that had ever crossed his path, he'd never again be able to attend an Order meeting in peace.
"Why?" said Sirius obstinately, "his mother dropped him on your lap, not mine!"
Noting, then, that Sirius was being careful to neither confirm nor deny his parentage of the child, Severus narrowed his eyes. Looking at Harry pointedly before catching Sirius' eye, he sneered.
"You know why," he said, the murderous look on his face enough to make any normal father leap to their child's rescue. When the cool Animagus didn't so much as flinch, Severus had to silently commend the man's restraint. Beside him, Potter was trying to pull his arm out of Sirius' hold.
"C'mon, Sirius!" Harry whispered to his godfather urgently, his desperation to get his point across making the whisper loud enough to carry itself to Severus' ears. "Madison obviously doesn't know him as well as us – let me take him!"
"He's fine where he is," said Sirius nonchalantly, looking over at the baby to make sure of that fact, and pulling a face at the mesmerised baby for good measure. "See? He's laughing away…"
"As dense and oblivious in the face of danger as his father," said Severus bitingly, eyes gleaming in triumph. Before Sirius could retort, he turned his attentions towards the man's godson, beginning to tell the brat that he was the unfortunate soul expected to teach him Occlumency in the coming term. Once his message had been delivered, he stood, and, holding the baby by the strap of his Muggle dungarees, he held the child out across the table, where Harry leapt up and accepted the still-giggling infant.
"Wait a moment," said Sirius, fleetingly looking his son over for any discernable signs of distress before glaring at the back of Snape's cloak, the man having turned to leave.
Snape turned back to face them, sneering.
"I am rather in a hurry, Black. Unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time."
"I'll get to the point, then," said Sirius, standing up. He was rather taller than Snape who, Harry noticed, balled his fist in the pocket of his cloak over what Harry was sure was the handle of his wand.
Protectively, he held Jamie a little closer to him, hesitating only when he felt that the baby was wet through. His eyes immediately flying to the part of Snape's robes that Jamie would have been seated on, he fought hard to hide the grin that threatened to form when his Quidditch-sharp eyes detected a shadow of moisture on the dark fabric. It being winter, he noted, Snape must be wearing too many layers to feel it, and it would not be until he was out of the pleasant-smelling kitchen, that any offensive smells would be detectable. In an effort to avoid drawing attention to Snape's little mishap, Harry forced himself to concentrate on what his godfather was saying.
No sooner had Harry returned his attention the older wizard's conversation, had his godfather pushed his chair back and rounded the table, intent on physically threatening his most loathed teacher.
"Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him.
"I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's; "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better-"
"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who has been leading a double life for the past eighteen months?"
"Speaking of double lives," Sirius spat, resisting the temptation to look back at Harry to check if he had begun to suspect anything. "Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted that his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"
"Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognised you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Good thing it was the day you saw the brat off at the station platform and not the other day when you were seen in Diagon Alley…" he looked over Sirius' shoulder pointedly, silently gesturing towards the child the Animagus refused to acknowledge as a son in Harry Potter's presence. Snape sneered triumphantly; "I'd hate to think of what a man like that would do with that kind of information."
Reading the implied threat, Sirius raised his wand.
"NO!" Harry yelled, handing Jamie over to an alarmed Madison, who had rushed back into the room at the first sound of yelling, and vaulting the table to stand between the two men. "Sirius, don't!"
"Are you threatening me, Snape?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge.
"Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape, in a tone that suggested that Sirius owed him gratitude for not divulging any of the Order's secrets – inclusive of the existence of Sirius' wife and son.
"Harry – get – out – of – it!" snarled Sirius, pushing him aside with his free hand.
The kitchen door opened and the entire Weasley family, plus Hermione, came inside, all looking very happy, with Mr Weasley walking proudly in their midst dressed in a pair of striped pyjamas covered by a mackintosh.
"Cured!" he announced to the kitchen at large. "Completely cured!"
He and all the other Weasleys froze on the threshold, gazing at the scene in front of them, which was also suspended in mid-action, both Sirius and Snape looking towards the door with their wands pointed into each other's faces and Harry immobile between them, a hand stretched out to each, trying to force them apart. Then, in the corner, Madison stood rooted to the spot, simultaneously looking as though she wanted to tear strips off of someone, but altogether concerned for her infant son, who was looking rather bewildered in her arms.
"Merlin's beard," said Mr Weasley, the smile sliding off his face, "what's going on here?"
Both Sirius and Snape lowered their wands. Harry looked from one to the other. Each wore an expression of utmost contempt, yet the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses seemed to have brought them to their senses. Snape pocketed his wand, turned on his heel and swept back across the kitchen, passing the Weasleys without comment. At the door he looked back.
"Six o'clock, Potter. On the first day back at school."
And he was gone. Sirius glared after him, his wand at his side. Suddenly, Madison spoke up.
"Did it work?" she asked Harry, catching his eye.
Harry cracked a grin and nodded.
"Yep," he said, "and Snape was none-the-wiser. This will truly be a test to see if he washes his robes!"
"Excellent," said Madison, her lips curling into a evil smile. "I can already testify that he hasn't washed his hair in at least a month," she shuddered. "I don't ever want to get that close to that vile man, ever, ever again."
"What are you talking about?" said Sirius in confusion, looking from his wife and godson in confusion. Trying to maintain the cover of an uninvolved man who was in no way related to the woman and child before him, he struggled to keep a hold of his emotions. "What were you thinking, leaving your son in that man's care? He could well have dumped the baby on the floor, for all you know!"
"But he didn't," Madison pointed out. "Which again, just goes to prove my theory that the big bad bat would welcome the chance to hide behind a defenceless infant. When I dropped Jamie in his lap I as much as said that I was doing it to protect him… seems he appreciated my gesture, else he would have handed my little angel over before Jamie had the chance to give him a little present."
"A little present?" said Sirius, frustrated at being out of the loop.
"Why don't you hold Jamie on your lap for five minutes and find out?" said Harry suggestively. Sirius' eyes flew open in realisation and he began to bark with laughter.
Meanwhile, Mrs Weasley looked between the two people she knew to be the baby's parents in disapproval and loudly suggested that someone change the poor dear's nappy before he developed a rash. The kitchen was then filled with the sounds of horrified teenagers concocting methods to safely sterilise a child after being physically manhandled by Snape.
Having slipped from the room, unnoticed, to change the baby's nappy, mother and child returned to the kitchen, strategically standing beside their covert husband and father to share in the fruits of 'Little Foot's' first recorded prank.
END CHAPTER:
Next Chapter: 17th December 2006