The Twelve Trials of Christmas

by AelysAlthea

Nearly six months Harry and Draco had been together. Nearly six months Sirius had had to grow accustomed to the fact. And was he accustomed? No. No way in hell. There were some things that a man just couldn't stand for, and his godson dating a Malfoy sat front and centre at the top of his list. But how does one break apart a relationship when the active participants seem to...

8. Chapter 8 - Day 8 - 10:22

Chapter 8: Day 8 - 10:22

Wednesday, the first day of the new year, dawned brighter and cheerier than those before. The sun actually shone, parting the grey clouds and making a hearty effort to melt the layers of snow that heaped every front lawn, that coated the road in a slick carpet of ice.

Sirius was surprisingly less the worse for wear given his limited sleep. True to his suspicions, it had been rather difficult to fall prey to the oblivion of unconsciousness. He'd not managed even a wink until after three o'clock that morning, but he wasn't feeling any worse for it, even awaking at his usual sprightly hour. Springing from his bed, Sirius set about his routine with determination.

He'd made a resolution. Hardened his resolve and reached a conclusion. Something had to change between he and Harry; the dynamics of their relationship, that Harry would feel too wary, too discomforted, to confront Sirius about his personal life, was concerning. That he had thought, even if only a little, that Sirius would be disgusted with him for liking another boy at all was… it was horrifying. Mortifying. Certainly upsetting, to put it in its mildest form.

Sirius wanted to be there for his godson, and not only for his own peace of mind. Not only to placate his desire to build a friendship with the boy. Harry surely needed someone too, and though Sirius had never particularly seen himself as a parental figure – he'd always considered Remus to be the more suited of the two of them – he would attempt to fill those shoes. For Harry. He would change, would act differently.

That didn't mean that he accepted his godson's relationship with the Malfoy brat. Not in the least. But if, even temporarily for some unknown and inconceivable reason, it was making Harry happy, then… Sirius wouldn't object. Not out loud, anyway. He would still hope for nothing so much as Harry to realise reality, to come to terms with the fact that he was far too good for a Malfoy. A conniving, deceptive snake of a Malfoy. He'd hold hopes that Harry would eventually understand that he could do far better.

But Sirius had reached the conclusion that it wasn't his place to tell him so. That if he did, it would only distance him from Harry further, would most likely push him into greater irrational fondness for his bastard of a boyfriend. And that, as much as the possibility of Harry losing affection for Sirius, was something he would not stand for. He wouldn't lose anything further to Draco-bloody-Malfoy.

So Sirius would remain subdued. Would no longer openly object. He wouldn't attempt to rationalise with Harry in stilted roundabout conversations that Harry seemed blissfully unaware of the subject of. He wouldn't play nice with Malfoy – he doubted he even could – but no longer could he express open animosity to him.

To ignore. That was Sirius' only option. So long as he could ignore the smug irritant of a boy, he could work at other areas of his difficulties. That was his intention, anyway.

With such a mindset, Sirius faced the day with a forced smile that became gradually less forced as the morning went on. A big contributor to that easing of his struggles lay in that Harry had finally sent an owl back at ten o'clock that morning with profuse apologies for not replying sooner. Apparently he'd been in the middle of 'something' and had simply forgotten. Sirius tried not to dwell on those words too much. But even better than that, even better than the brief missive in his godson's scrawl of handwriting, was the postscript.

Harry had asked if he and Draco could come back and spend the final days of the holidays at Grimmauld Place. Together? Not so delightful, but Sirius could live with that. He could. Probably.

But the cherry atop his unexpectedly growing sundae of satisfaction was that Remus had said he could go and pick them up himself. Sirius didn't think he needed permission, except that he was still technically on 'house arrest'. Remus spoke for the Order in this instance at least; he'd said that his trips down to East End had largely been inconclusive and as such he needed to spend even more time down there. Sirius didn't feel the least bit sorry for his friend; he'd accepted the mission after all. But mostly, he was simply ecstatic that he could be the one to pick Harry up. Even if it did mean that he would have to interact with his cousin and her husband.

The thought drew a shudder from Sirius despite his attempts to overlook the foreboding it presented. He would be jovial, dammit, and if that meant playing nice with Narcissa for a time… well, he would encourage Harry to leave post haste.

So at twenty past ten, with the coordinates for the Apparation point nearest Malfoy Country Manor firmly in the forefront of his mind, Sirius set out from Grimmauld Place. He didn't think it was his imagination that the open air of the street smelled so sweet. Anything would smell sweet compared to the cloying dankness of his family house. And it was with a smile that he magicked himself from the curb.

It took barely a second to recover from the familiar crushing pressure of Apparation. Glancing around himself, Sirius had to roll his eyes with a snort. Picture perfect? Yes, the countryside surrounding the Malfoy's country manor could be termed as such. Rolling hills spotted with skeletal deciduous trees, shrouded in gowns of white snow that reflected the smooth spread of pristine whiteness around them. The echoing trill of birds revelling in the morning sunlight was almost cliché for the ambiance it created. And there was not a spot of humanity to mar the scene save to the Malfoy cottage perched atop one of the distant hills.

Well, cottage in the old-fashioned sense of the term. Sirius could accept that many purebloods considered the sizeable estate as being relatively modest given that he'd been brought up to think in such a way himself. But he knew too that most people nowadays, wizards and Muggles aike, would have lifted their eyebrows dubiously at such a description. The cottage would easily house a family of a dozen with only one or two having to share bedrooms. And that was discounting the numerous living rooms, expansive kitchen, parlours and libraries that would no doubt consume the rest of the house. From where he had Apparated to, Sirius thought he could even see a barn of sorts huddled to the side of the cottage, though he sincerely doubted it actually held any animals within, magical or otherwise.

Small the cottage may be compared to the inner city Malfoy Manor, but realistically? Small it was not.

Sirius stomped with high steps through the snow towards the house, stumbling only twice over the occasional protruding rock or tree root. It was quite a walk, he had to admit, though admittedly couldn't blame the Malfoy's for requesting such a distanced Apparation point no matter how he may wish to. More distance meant more notice they had of an intrusion or potential attack. Sirius suspected they likely had Detection Charms spaced at periodic distances surrounding their property too. The house elves probably already knew he was on his way.

Striding up the wide, cleanly swept footpath to the front door, shaking his head at the pristinely trimmed hedges and sprouts of vivid Winterflame and snow-laden honeysuckle, he ascended the steps of the front veranda. The ring of his gloved knuckles resounded on the thick oaken doors; he could have rung the bell, probably should have if he'd been acting as etiquette dictated, but… well, Sirius had always spat in the face of etiquette.

It was no surprise that it was a house elf that answered the door. The little creature – a girl, Sirius hazarded, though couldn't be certain – bowed low as soon as the door was wide enough to admit him. "Good morning, Master Sirius Black, sir. Podey is being expecting you any second now."

"Is that right?" Sirius muttered, though couldn't keep the satisfied smile from touching his lips. Expecting him? Had Harry had known – or perhaps hoped? – that Sirius would be over as soon as possible? Sirius liked to think that his godson was eager to catch up once more.

Podey nodded her head excessively, bat-ears flapping. "Yes, sir. Master Harry Potter is being asking all of us house elves that we could be letting you in from the cold as soon as you arrive, sir." She bounced with far too much enthusiasm for the situation as she closed the door behind him.

All of us house elves? Sirius pondered as he looked around the entrance hall. Just how many do the Malfoy's keep in their service? And closeted away in the country, too. For though Sirius knew that, though most upper class pureblood families had an ever-present contingent of elves to wait on their beck and call at all times, they usually resided solely in the primary residence of those families. A country manor would usually only have one, perhaps two, to maintain the property. And Malfoy's cottage? It was basically unheard of, so little had Sirius' cousins used it. Unheard of and unplotted. It was one of the main reasons they'd chosen to retreat to it.

As he gazed around the room, however, Sirius had to admit that the house would likely need a whole platoon of cleaners to maintain such immaculate conditions. Even simplistic as the entrance hall was, it was still grand and a little intimidating to one who had been living between the gloomy, dusty and closeted walls of a house that was largely acknowledged as almost-unfit-for-habitation. Or so Molly Weasley said.

The room was long and relatively wide, high ceiling broken only by the disappearing stairs. A dark green embroidered rug stretched like a runner from the front door to the distant closed door on the opposite wall, the fabric thick and soft underfoot. A curving staircase stood to the right of the front door, polished ebony banisters a shade darker than the steps themselves reflected in the series of pristine mirrors along the opposite wall. The line of mirrors themselves were broken only by the infrequent portrait, the effect being that the room appeared even larger than its impressive dimensions at first suggested. Overhead, simple yet still grandiose chandelier illuminated the room. The reflections of the candles off the mirrors served to brighten the area further.

And there was not a speck of dust in sight. Naturally. This was a Malfoy estate, after all. They likely did indeed have a platoon of house elves in their service. Dare a Malfoy be required to sniff for a speck of dust!

Podey, skirting him after shutting the door, snapped her heels together as she presented herself before Sirius once more. She tugged smartly at the lapels of her tea towel. "Mistress Narcissa is telling Podey that she would meet Master Sirius Black in the parlour if sir would be so obliging."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Did she now?"

"Yes, sir." Podey nodded sharply, completely missing the sarcasm in Sirius' tone. Or perhaps she heard it but chose to ignore it. House elves were fantastic at overlooking slights they didn't deem necessary to hear. "Would you be following me, sir?"

Shaking his head, Sirius widened his stance comfortably and crossed his arms over his chest. "No, I don't think I will. I'm only here to pick up Harry; I'll be off just as soon as he gets down here."

He was being rude, Sirius knew. And more than that, he was being immature. Sirius knew that, too. And yet he couldn't quite help himself. Generous to the Malfoys he had never said he would be. Amiability was vastly different to merely tolerating. Sirius sincerely doubted he could assume the former. It was why he'd settled on the idea of ignoring Malfoy Junior in the first place. He didn't want to push himself to the impossible and set unrealistic expectations. Sirius was still struggling with the urge not to punch the snotty shit in his pointy nose every time he saw him.

Podey evidently didn't approve of his decision. "Sir, Mistress Narcissa was asking you –"

"If Narcissa wants to see me, she's more than welcome to come in here and do just that," Sirius cut in. "As I said, I'm not staying long. I hardly see it as necessary to make myself comfortable. You can go and tell her that if you'd like."

The quivering in Podey's ears could have been from nervousness or indignation, Sirius wasn't sure. Possibly both; house elves were like that. But finally, with a little huff that sounded faintly exasperated, she spun on her heel and with a crack that Sirius fathomed sounded pointedly louder than it should have, she disappeared. The silence and emptiness of the room was actually a welcome relief.

Sirius was just considering alighting the stairs in search of Harry – he didn't particularly fancy remaining in the cottage any longer than was absolutely necessary, despite how admittedly and surprisingly comfortable it was – when the door at the other end of the room opened. Narcissa Malfoy, in all of her regal and upstanding presence, stepped through with a sweep of dark robes.

Contrary to what Sirius may have expected, she did not seem disgruntled in the slightest to have had to come to meet him rather than he to her. Turning towards him after closing the door, her face was blank and composed. Perhaps a little curious but otherwise devoid of expression.

"Sirius. You are here earlier than expected."

Sirius shrugged. Earlier than perhaps you expected. "I had time this morning. Figured I may as well head on over."

Narcissa afforded him a small smile. "Very kind of you. I apologise; Lucius or I would have been more than happy to escort them, but Harry said the Order would probably prefer to do so. He received a letter from Minerva McGonagall this morning regarding Lucius' role as escort last night."

Sirius strove to keep a hold of his surprise. He hadn't heard of that. Harry hadn't said anything about it in his letter. Did he just forget? Did he think it inconsequential, irrelevant given that he knew Sirius would see fit to come and pick him up himself, even before Sirius had known he'd be permitted to do so? Sirius liked to think that. It was better than the alternative; he didn't want to think that Harry was hiding things from him, even when he knew it was a very possible possibility given that Harry had already done so. "It's not a problem. As I said, I had time."

Narcissa's smile widened. Sirius was left with the distinct impression that she had been party to his thoughts. He'd always felt that way about his cousin; it was disconcerting to stand beneath her gaze. He fought the urge to shift uncomfortably. "Even so. I do believe Draco and Harry are upstairs otherwise engaged. A fierce battle of chess to hear tell of it."

"Chess?" Sirius blinked, surprised once more for an entirely different reason. Harry wasn't all too good at chess, had laughed off Sirius' offers to play in the past by claiming that his experience with Ron had informed him that he 'royally sucked' at the game. He didn't know what to make of the fact that he would willingly play with Draco. Perhaps it wasn't willing?

Her face grave but for the hint of her lingering smile, Narcissa nodded. "They've become quite practiced at it over the past few days. I do believe it was drawing to a close half an hour ago, but they do tend to exaggerate the importance of the game. I wouldn't put them past a rematch. Can I interest you in some tea?"

It was all protocol. His cousin was acting as she was supposed to, Sirius knew. He held no allusions that she felt any more positively for him than he did for her. And he wouldn't play her game, either. He didn't have to. "No, Narcissa, I don't think so. I'm more than happy to remain here." He held up a hand as Narcissa opened her mouth to reply. "Please, feel no obligation to do the same. I don't need entertainment and there's not really anything besides the portraits in here that I'd be able to filch. You don't have to fear for my thieving fingers."

Smirking at his own wit, Sirius tilted his head under Narcissa's regard. She stared at him unblinkingly for a moment, and Sirius refused to feel disconcerted by the unwavering attention. "You make things difficult for yourself, don't you, Sirius?"

Blinking, momentarily silenced, Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"It would be far easier for you – and for Harry, and everyone else, I'm sure – if you simply…" Narcissa wafted a hand to the side of her head, "ceased your objections."

This. This was very much not protocol. Even calm and collected as Narcissa's voice was, Sirius knew that, adhering to the dance of socialising as any upstanding pureblood did, she should not be saying such. It was far too intrusive, too personal, even coming from a family member. Perhaps especially coming from a family member, given how distant they were both in terms of blood ties and fondness.

Frowning, Sirius fought not to take a step backwards. "What are you talking about?"

Narcissa took a casual step further into the entrance hall as if in response to his urge to retreat. "You don't like me, nor my husband and evidently, despite Harry's fondness for him, you dislike my son."

"Obviously," Sirius blurted out before he could help himself. He refused to cringe guiltily for the blatant honesty of his tongue.

Narcissa actually smirked at his words, which was worse than a glare would have been. "Obviously. What I don't fully comprehend is why?"

For the second time in their conversation, Sirius was rendered momentarily speechless. His jaw worked with the urge to voice his thoughts, but it took long seconds of struggle for him to be able to produce words. "I'm pretty sure that's obvious too."

Because it was. It was very, very obvious. There was so much to dislike of the Malfoys, so much that Sirius could find to object to, that he didn't even know where to start. They were of the pompous, archaic pureblood family type, ever looking down their nose at anyone they deemed beneath them. They were wrought with prejudice, barely deigning to consider Muggles of the same species let alone speak to them directly. And the prejudices didn't end there. There was a whole plethora of families, of cultures, that they, being the upstanding purebloods that they were, elevated themselves above. It was one of many things that Sirius found so disagreeable about purebloods in general.

And his objections didn't stop there. Such characteristics very exclusive purely to the Malfoy's themselves, unique and removed in their flaws from the pureblood strain. Not in the least that they had been embroiled with Voldemort, not solely in the first war but in the second as well. That until recently, until some reasoning that Dumbledore had accepted as plausible but still eluded Sirius, they had maintained that loyalty. Add that to their disagreeable characteristics – Narcissa's aloof deviousness, Lucius' cold, calculated cunning, and Draco's… well, there was so much simply wrong with Draco that Sirius didn't even know where to start – then yes, Sirius thought himself very justified in criticising the Malfoys. Very justified indeed.

Lost in his thoughts, in his mental collation of inadequacies and deterring features, Sirius only realised when the silence had stretched on for some minutes that Narcissa was regarding him thoughtfully. Not with that hard chill that Lucius possessed, nor the disdain that Draco so frequently adopted, but simply considering. That gaze left Sirius more unnerved than that her husband or son could assume. "What?"

"You truly dislike us so fiercely, don't you?"

It was a rhetorical question, but said with such certainty, almost understandingly, that Sirius was suddenly sure that Narcissa had listened in on his silent rendition of the Malfoy Unfavourable Traits. Biting back the urge to step away from her once more, Sirius tightened the fold of his arms across his chest. "Can you blame me?"

Sighing, Narcissa seemed to sincerely regret the aggression in his tone. Seemed being the operative word, for Sirius knew that the woman, being of Black lineage as she was, was more than capable of making falsehoods appear genuine. "I suppose not." She pursed her lips, her regard becoming thoughtful once mroe. "I could attempt to sway your impression, you know."

"You could try," Sirius agreed. And would have retracted his words if he could have for he instantly saw Narcissa assume the phrase as a challenge.

"Very well. It is true, we were aligned to the Dark Lord. Twice, and I cannot claim to regret doing so. Not even given our current circumstances."

Offering a dissatisfied sniff that was closer to a snort, Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You're not making a good start."

Narcissa continued as though she hadn't heard him. "For the safety of our family, I do not believe that we would have survived nearly as long had Lucius not acted as he had twenty years ago. My sister's status as a primary supporter left it impossible for us to escape the Dark Lord's notice. Andromeda is proof of the lengths even a single person had to go to in order to avoid his conscription."

"You can't blame Bellatrix for –"

"But even so, I believe that my husband does regret the necessity of his actions. As I do mine," Narcissa overrode Sirius without even batting an eyelid. He felt his lip curl. "We are not cruel people, you know."

"Now that I object to –"

"And we do not delight in the infliction of pain upon others. True, if it was a choice between myself and my family's safety and that of a nameless Muggle, the order of priorities would not even be in the same playing field. But that does not mean that any of us believe it is the right decision."

"You could have fooled everyone with that," Sirius muttered. He'd taken to glaring at his cousin, as much for her words as the fact that she so readily interrupted him. What was it about preventing him from speaking that everyone was taking to at the moment? First Remus two days ago, then Hermione the previous night, and now Narcissa. Did he had an 'Ignore Me' sticker stuck to his forehead?

Narcissa only bowed her head at acknowledgement. "That was the intention. To fool the Dark Lord."

"The very fact that you call still call him 'the Dark Lord' isn't exactly reassuring," Sirius pointed out.

Shrugging, Narcissa disregarded his words with another wave of her hand. "Old habits die hard, I'm afraid. Even those so detested. Perhaps those especially so." Her gaze hardened. "But rest assured, Sirius, that die they will. Along with our supposed allegiances."

"How could anyone possibly believe you at your word?" Sirius sneered. It really was unrealistic, even with the weight of Dumbledore's words behind him.

Narcissa seemed deterred not the slightest by his scepticism. "Quite simply, because we have an even greater loyalty. All of us, my husband, my son, myself, have made our decision. In fact, had Lucius and I not chosen as such, I do believe that it unlikely we would have survived at all."

"A greater loyalty?" Sirius raised his eyebrow. "What, to the Order?"

"Not precisely." Narcissa paused. "I'd have thought it was obvious the cause for our shift in allegiances given my son's actions and attentions. Did you know he claimed that, though it would pain him, he would be doing so even without the accompaniment of Lucius and myself? That he has felt the need to shift his priorities?"

"What?" Sirius blinked, uncomprehending. He felt as though the answer was staring him in the face, something entirely obvious, but he couldn't quite see it. He reconciled his budding curiosity with the thought that Narcissa was probably exaggerating to put her son in a better light anyway. "You defied Voldemort because of your son's 'shift in priorities'?"

Narcissa, admirably, barely flinched at the use of Voldemort's name. "Is it so hard to believe? I would do anything for my family; it is for the sake of my son and my husband that I do aught. It was that which drove us into the Dark Lord's forces to begin with."

"So wonderful to hear that you care for your family enough to partake in the torture and killings of countless innocents," Sirius said sarcastically.

Face hardening, Narcissa lifted her chin. Sirius knew immediately that he'd struck a sore spot. "Accuse all you like, Sirius, it does you little good. I have given you my reasons and regretful though our involvement in the war has been, I will not repent. It was necessary. We have moved on. And, as I said, you only make life harder for yourself by clinging to your hatred for us."

Sirius scowled. "You've moved on? Of course you have. It wasn't your lives that were so damaged by your actions."

"If you truly believe that in its entirety then you are a greater fool than I give you credit for being."

Sirius' scowl deepened. He could feel a growl building within him. "I'm the fool? I'm merely holding fast to reality, making sure your actions aren't forgotten, because everybody else in the world seems to ready to overlook them!"

"And by everybody you mean Harry?" Narcissa asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who else? You might have pulled the wool over his eyes somehow, but you won't do the same to you. You and your little bastard son –"

"Do not speak of my son as such, Sirius Black, or I swear by Salazar you will regret it."

There was little that could unhinge Sirius. Not enough for him to physically back down, anyway, to act upon his unease. But the sharpness of Narcissa's voice, oddly reminiscent of his mother's that had once so cowed him, rendering him mute. He felt like a pup cringing before the snarling attentions of a matriarchal bitch. In this instance, silently fuming at Narcissa and unsettled as he was, he felt the analogy entirely appropriate. He couldn't even meet her dagger-sharp gaze.

When Narcissa spoke next it was with icy coolness, so quiet as to be almost a whisper. Only the absolute silence of the entrance hall enabled him to hear at all. "You will loose much if you cling to such hatreds, Sirius. You say you retain your… aversion for my family for Harry's sake?" She snorted, the sound so unexpected coming from her that Sirius glanced up in surprise. "Foolish is not a strong enough word to cover it. Perhaps you should learn from your godson's example. He is not so blinded by the past to overlook repentance when he sees it."

"Repentance? You call your attitude -?"

"I hope for Harry's sake at least that you will try harder." Once more, Narcissa didn't wait for him to finish. "The rest of the Order has seen fit to try to at least tolerate our presence in your ranks, if not to expressly favour us. Even the Weasleys have seen fit to try. And for one specific reason. I would have thought you of all people would see fit to act upon that cause, to consider it just, given to who it is most strongly effecting."

"Cause? Reason?" Again, that inkling was niggling Sirius in the back of his mind, that the answer was staring him directly in the face. He felt like he should have known what Narcissa spoke of but couldn't quite see it. He disregarded it a moment later however. Anger was sparked and Sirius didn't feel inclined to attempt to see the situation from his cousin's perspective. "What possible reason could that be?"

Whether Narcissa would have answered him or not Sirius didn't know. She didn't get the chance to for an instant later there was the sound of muffled laughter from the floor above, followed by the soft thump of footsteps on the landing and then the stairs. Sirius drew his gaze to the stairwell just in time to see Harry appear.

"Sirius!" He exclaimed. As though he was actually surprised to see him. "You're here earlier than we expected."

"Yeah, well. Anything to get out of the house, right?" Was Sirius – and apparently Podey – the only ones who had expected him to arrive with any sort of promptness?

For all his disgruntlement, however, Sirius couldn't maintain even a semblance of discontent when Harry grinned broadly and bounded down the stairs. He gave his godson an answering grin, wrapping him in a one-armed hug when he pulled up at his side. Harry let him, offering an affectionate squeeze of his own in return. "Honestly, I expected you to still be sleeping. No New Year's revelry to keep you up all night?"

"I bounce back quickly," Sirius brushed off. As though he'd had anything in particular to bounce back from. A glass or two of firewhiskey topped with a swirl of mead over the course of a few hours was hardly straining.

Draco swept down the stairs after Harry a moment later, scanning the room dismissively as though he owned the place. Which, Sirius begrudgingly ceded, he sort of did. Still, that recognition did nothing to lend the blonde boy his favour. Nor did the slight nod of acknowledgement the brat offered him. It was all he could do not to immediately adopt a scowl, let alone greet him back.

Ignore him, just ignore him. You're doing this for Harry. For Harry. Just ignore him… He hadn't realised how hard it would be. The urge to strike the faintly smug expression that Draco's face seemed to naturally fall into was almost impossible to disregard. Thankfully, Draco didn't seem to need a response, instead turning his attention to Narcissa.

"Mother, could you have one of the house elves bring our luggage over at your earliest convenience?"

Narcissa offered her son a smile. "Of course. I'll send Moppy after lunch."

Harry sighed long-sufferingly, shoulder sagging slightly beneath Sirius' arm. He rolled his eyes at him as if to say "see the foolishness that I have to deal with?" before turning to Draco. "Honestly, I don't see why it's so much trouble for us to bring them ourselves. If it worries you so much, Draco, I don't mind carrying yours."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry." Draco held up a forbidding hand, a frown crinkling his forehead as though the thought mentally strained him. The indulgent git. "I'll not have either of us lugging baggage through the snow like a pair of pack horses."

"I'm surprised you even know what a pack horse is," Harry said with a grin.

"I resent your assumption."

"No, really, it's a very Muggle concept. I'd assume you'd just use magic, wouldn't you? I never really saw you as the kind to acknowledge the use of beast of burden. Surely they'd dirty your hands."

"Shut up, Potter," Draco drawled, hooded eyes turning towards Harry in a silencing stare. Sirius had to fight the urge to punch the little shit once more – who did he think he was, telling Harry to shut up? – and managed just barely. He was glad he had, too, for he realised belatedly that this sort of exchange apparently held little heat and was said more in jest than anything else. Harry was still grinning, shaking his head slightly as though exasperated, while even Narcissa seemed on the verge of cracking a smile.

Weird. Very weird. He liked it even less in that Narcissa was apparently in the amusement-loop while he was not.

"You're more than welcome to stay longer should you wish," Narcissa said a moment later, distracting him from the now familiar feeling of rising discontent. "There's really no rush."

"We do indeed need to have another play off, Harry," Draco added. Whatever that meant. Sirius assumed he referred to a chess match but couldn't be sure.

When Harry slipped out from under the casual sling of his arm, Sirius felt his stomach clench. Oh dammit. Please no, please no, please don't say yes… He would stay if Harry wanted to – it wasn't like he was going to leave him to the Malfoy's clutches – but if Sirius had his way they would have left already. Fine as the estate may be, he disliked it on principle.

"Thanks anyway, Mrs Malfoy, but it'd probably be better if we got back to Grimmauld Place," Harry said good-naturedly. It was unnerving to see him talking so easily to Sirius' cousin. "I expect someone would probably send out a search party if we delayed too long."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius asked. He attempted to keep his tone inquisitive rather than accusatory, and wasn't entirely sure he succeeded.

Harry didn't seem to mind either way, however. He glanced towards Sirius with a shrug. "Nothing much." And he left it at that.

"Well, if you're sure," Narcissa said, smiling towards Harry as she drifted towards Draco to press a feather-light kiss on his cheek. Draco didn't bat an eyelid at the gesture. "You're always welcome to come back at any time you wish, whether it be before term resumes or during. Would you by chance like to visit for Easter, Harry?"

"Of course he would," Draco replied before Harry even got the chance to open his mouth. He barely spared Harry a glance of confirmation. The edges of Sirius' vision flickered red. "I'm coming for a day or two so he is too." Harry's only response was to snort in something of a chuckle. Otherwise he made no comment on Draco's assumption.

Sirius felt his frustration redouble. What a presumptuous, domineering little arsehole! And Harry was just letting him get away with it? What was with that?

Thankfully, however, he wasn't given time for that frustration to manifest further. Harry and Draco made their farewells to Narcissa – Harry even let the witch place a delicate peck on his own cheek, much to Sirius' barely concealed horror – before heading out the door, tugging on gloves and scarfs as they went. As Sirius fell into step beside his godson, trudging silently when not answering questions of the previous night, he fought to get a grasp of his seething anger.

That had not gone quite as well as he'd planned. And now he would be living with the Malfoy spawn in his house for the next few days.

Breathe, Sirius, breathe, he coached himself. And he tried not to dwell upon Narcissa's words, no matter how they nagged at him. He was missing something, something profound. He just wasn't entirely sure what it was.