Eventually Potter leaves his side and his Mum sends Emma off to wash her hands for dinner. She comes and sits down next to him and reaches out her hand to brush his hair, but then thinks better of it. Dubhán almost wishes she had.

"You know how Remus was over for dinner last night?" Dubhán nods. "Well, Sirius begged me all day at work until I finally gave in. I hope that's okay. If it's too much, I'll ask him to come a different day."

"It's okay," he says softly, trying to sound resolute. He doesn't want them to think he's weak. He can't be weak. Being strong is what kept him alive. Sometimes, Dubhán just wants to curl up and let the world disappear, to take deep breath, to say "no, it's not okay", to demand everything stop so that his mind and heart can catch up, but Dubhán knows he can't do any of those things. "I'm fine."

"No you're not, Dubhán," she says, so softly Dubhán almost believes he's imagined it. She leans close and kisses his forehead. "But we'll change that together."

She stands up and holds out her hand for him and for a moment Dubhán forgets about what his Grandfather would think and takes the hand. She leads him into the kitchen were a handsome man is making Emma float in the air and fly like a bird around the room. She is giggling uncontrollably. When he sees Dubhán he lets Emma down gently.

"Devlin!" he says, but Potter quickly nudges him and he corrects himself, "er, Dubhán!" Dubhán forgets about arguing. His Mum called this man 'Sirius' but Dubhán doesn't think that's right.

"You're Padfoot." He says, absolutely certain of himself. The man rushes forward and snatches him from behind his mother and draws him up into the air. Dubhán's eyes go wide and then shut tightly and he lets himself go limp in the man's arms. Stupid! He knows better than to call people other names than what others refer to them as!

"Sirius," he can hear Potter say, quiet and tense.

He knows it will only be worse if he fights it initially and so he lets the man lift him up and drag him through the air. Then the man seems to notice he's not fighting. He hadn't thought this man like Grandfather, perhaps he was wrong to give in? He peeks his eyes open when his feet touch the floor and sees the man crouched down beside him, regarding him with horror and sadness.

"Harry was right, you thought I was hurting you," he says, looking over at Potter, whose face is drawn into a grimace. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"People don't like being called names they don't like. I thought I was stupid again. Are…are you really Padfoot then?"

"Yeah, I am." The man says, a smile trying to tug at his lips again.

"Why would you think he would hurt you over his name?" His Mum asks, stepping closer to him. He ducks his head and fidgets with his hands.

"There's a name Grandfather doesn't like to be called. When I met him first he asked me if I knew his name and I thought he'd never believe I knew his real name and it would impress him, but he hates that name."

Emma is frowning at them all. "We don't have a Grandpa, Dubhán. I told you so."

He looks away from her, than decides he has to be strong for her, most of all. In the same moment he realized that being strong for Emma didn't necessarily mean the truth.

"Yes we do, but he doesn't like Dad and so Mum doesn't even send him Christmas or Birthday cards."

"Oh…" She frowns, still suspicious. "How come you've met him?"

"Because he wanted to hurt Dad by taking me away from him." He says, his throat clenching up. This is all the truth. He isn't lying. He isn't betraying. He isn't.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight. Lets all have dinner." Alexandra's voice is shaking. Sirius's eyes look haunted. Potter's eyes look dim and abandoned. Once more Dubhán wonders if he'd just be better to have let them think him weird. If you hadn't opened your mouth, they would have just thought you didn't like hugs, he thought. And this time, such thoughts didn't lead to anger and resentment and thoughts of not caring what they believed for felt.

OoOoOoOoOo

After dinner they all walk into the living room, so Dubhán (who hadn't said a word through dinner) follows them. Sirius pulls a shiny package out of his pocket and hands it to Emma, who unwraps it quickly. It is a doll, with childish features. Sirius taps it with his wand and it turns on, and it begins to make noises in its pretend sleep. Emma squeals and races up to her room "to introduce everyone!". Dubhán watches her go with a morbid fascination; are all little girls like that?

"I thought that would keep her busy while I got to talk to you, Dubhán," Sirius says. He seems to have learned his lesson and his voice is soft and controlled now. The over exuberance has faded from all but his eyes. "I have a present for you, too, of course. I don't know much about what you like, so I had to pick your Dad's mind. Even he couldn't tell me much…" The man seems almost guilty. Dubhán frowns.

"You shouldn't give me presents, I won't be here very long."

"Yeah, your Dad warned me you'd say that," he says dismissively. "But that didn't really change my mind." He draws a package out of his pocket and unshrinks it.

Dubhán isn't sure why, but he expects it to be a racing broom, or something to do with flying, but instead it is high-end potion kit, just like the one would get before going off to school. He stares at it for a long moment. Grandfather had ought-right refused to get him one, even though he'd gotten as close to begging as he preferred, for months prior to his birthday. Grandfather had said that Potions, while respectable, was not truly that magically taxing. Which meant it wasn't good enough. Which meant Dubhán wasn't supposed to love it. But oh how he did!

He sits there on his knees for a long moment, looking at the wooden box that unlatches and opens up like a miniature cabinet. At the bottom is a small starters caldron and ladle and all around it are basic ingredients that a first year would require. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to feel. He doesn't know what to say. He can't even bring himself to touch it.

Grandfather had said no, Dubhán's mind reminds him. He would be so mad if you use it. But oh how he wanted to use it! Oh how he was looking forward to that fact that tomorrow would be the "day after tomorrow" when Severus Snape would be back in his kitchen.

He looks up at Potter.

"Do you promise?" he says so softly that for a moment he can almost imagine he hadn't been weak enough to ask.

"Promise what, Dubhán?"

"Promise you won't tell Voldemort." The adults all look confused, "Grandfather wouldn't get me one," he says softly. "How'd you know I'd want one?"

"Well I was visiting Remus and saw Hermione in the teachers room and decided to pester her for some ideas. Snape was there and in the middle of Hermione's fifth rather lame suggestion he stood up and drawled: 'why don't you just the boy a potions set?'. Of course I asked him why and he said: 'the boy practically treated me as if I was famous Harry Potter'. So I did. Guess he got it right, huh?" Sirius swaggers his eyes brows in a silly manner that even gets a chuckle out of Dubhán. "It was the second best one in the store. The store manager said I shouldn't get you the next set, since it's for older students. I thought your mom would have my head as it was with this-" he snuck a glance at Alexandra, who seemed to be trying to remain expressionless "so I got you the kiddie version. Hope that's okay."

Zee wandered from the kitchen, where he had probably come in from outside, and over to smell all of the sealed jars.

"Hey boy," Sirius said, patting him. "I didn't forget you!" He pulls an unwrapped bone out of pocket and tosses it into the middle of the room. The dog rushed after it, scooping it up and walking away. Dubhán knows, tonight, his wolf-self will be jealous.

"Thank you, sir." He says