The rest of the day, Harry still felt horrible, but it wasn't as bad as the other times when he had been sick, and had to look after himself. Around noon Sirius drew him a hot bath, giving him bubbles and a magazine to read.

Harry stayed in the water for at least an hour. The bubbles weren't like any he'd ever seen before—they were Wizarding bubbles, which meant they were more special-effects-oriented. They were huge, multicolored, and came in different shapes. Some of them wouldn't pop. Sirius had a lot of types of bubbles, and Harry tried them all. He had to admit, if you had to come down with the flu, it was better to be sitting in a bath with a pillow, candles, a magazine and extreme bubbles than it was to be quarantined in your cupboard.

Sirius had also purchased brand-new pajamas for Harry, emerald-green to match his eyes, and they were hanging on the hook attached to the bathroom door. When he was getting ready to get out, he heard the doorbell ring downstairs.

The Dursleys had been downstairs all day and Harry heard Aunt Petunia answering the door.

"Could I help you?" she snapped.

"Yes, is this #4 Privet Drive?" said a woman's voice. Harry was surprised to hear that it was Barbara's. "I'm looking for Sirius Black."

Sirius's footsteps thundered down the stairs. Harry couldn't hear any more of their conversation, until finally the door shut again and Sirius came back upstairs.

"Was that Barbara?" Harry called through the bathroom door.

"Yes," said Sirius. "She brought you a get well-card and some brownies. They're her great-grandmother's recipe."

Harry felt his stomach churn at the thought of eating something like brownies. "I don't know…Maybe later."

"I'll put them in the refrigerator," said Sirius, and he headed back downstairs.

Harry pulled the plug out of the drain and climbed shakily out of the tub. He was still quite weak on his feet. Once he was wearing his new pajamas (very comfortable—they were made of pure satin) and fuzzy socks, he stumbled out into the hallway, feeling quite sleepy. Luckily, he ran into Sirius, who was able to keep his walking steady on the way back to bed.

Part of Harry was a little embarrassed at being spoiled by Sirius, because he figured since he would be eleven in one month, he should be taking care of himself. But the other half of him liked it, because he couldn't remember an adult ever treating him this nicely, unless it was a part of their job (like a teacher). Sirius genuinely cared.

As soon as he got into bed, Harry grabbed his stuffed toy, snuggled it, and dropped right off to sleep.

…

Over the next few days Harry improved, slowly but steadily. On Wednesday, his temperature was down to 102 and he had been eating soup, although the brownies were still in the fridge. After ten years of not knowing anything about his parents, Harry was suddenly hearing tons of stories about them. By the evening, Sirius was telling Harry all about how the Marauders became Animagi.

"So I lost my ability to sweat for a week," said Sirius, "and James had a pair of antlers sticking clean out of his head—"

"Oh, I get it," said Harry softly, fingering the one antler his toy had left. "Prongs."

"Right." Sirius grinned. "When we finally managed to work out all the problems, James was a stag."

"Could you really smell like a dog?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and it's not as much of a gift as you might think," Sirius replied. "Bad smells are magnified, too, so a lot of the time you wish you just smelled like a human. It did come in handy, though…When we snuck out after hours, I could always smell when a teacher was coming."

"That is useful," said Harry. "If you two were as trouble-making as you say."

"We were," Sirius reassured him. "We were."

…

On Friday, Sirius came early in the morning, as usual, although Harry didn't wake up until noon. When he did, Sirius insisted on taking his temperature again.

"Great!" said Sirius, as the smoke that came out of his wand formed itself into the number 98. "No fever. You'll soon start to feel better now."

"I hope so," said Harry. Even though he was still feeling weak, and he still had a bit of a cough, his head didn't hurt and his appetite was back—in fact, he had even tried one of Barbara's brownies. They were delicious.

"By the way, I have a present for you," said Sirius. "Something else I found in my flat."

Harry took the picture frame from Sirius. "Is this picture supposed to be moving, or am I sicker than I thought?"

"All pictures move in the Wizarding world," Sirius explained. "That's your mum and dad on James's twentieth birthday. I took the picture myself."

Looking at the picture carefully, Harry could see how happy his parents looked. They were dancing; Lily's smile lit up her whole face; her green eyes, just like Harry's, shone beautifully. James did, indeed, have the same exact hair as Harry; he was looking at Lilly with the utmost expression of love in his eyes as he lifted up his arm to twirl her around. It was hard to believe that a little over a year later, the two of them would be murdered in cold blood.

"They got married not long after this was taken," said Sirius. "November 1980."

"Why did they get married and start a family so young?" asked Harry.

"Oh, well, you know…" Sirius shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. "They loved each other a lot. Didn't want to let the war get in the way of that."

"They do look happy," Harry agreed.

"You know, everybody thinks that spending ten years in Azkaban with the dementors was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," Sirius said softly, looking at the photo. "But it wasn't."

"But that place is supposed to be horrible, isn't it?"

"Undoubtedly," said Sirius. "But the hardest thing I've ever had to do was give you up. When I came to your parents' house that night, the first thing I saw was the house in ruins. I was sure you would be dead. Then I ran into one of Dumbledore's friends, Hagrid…and there you were, in his arms…this horrible cut across your forehead…I guess Hagrid was taking you out of the ruins. So when I realized what had happened, I told Hagrid I was your godfather, that I would look after you."

"And…what did this Hagrid do?"

"Well, you didn't grow up with me, did you?" Sirius's striking gray eyes were now shining with tears. "Hagrid told me you were supposed to go to your aunt and uncle's house. I insisted that you come with me—I knew I would give you a better home—but eventually I had to give in…but if I had known…if I could do it over…" Sirius shook his untidy black head. "Then what happened next haunted me for the next ten years."

"What?"

"Well, Hagrid let me hold you one last time," said Sirius, wiping away an escaped tear. "I think you wanted to stay with me, too. You were clinging to my shirt with such a tight grip…you were starting to cry…and…and then you said my name in this tiny, quivering voice…"

"You mean, Sirius?"

"No…Padfoot." Sirius now was trying and failing to wipe away his own tears. "And that small voice never left my head for ten long years. I don't know what I was thinking. I never should have let him take you away. The hell with Dumbledore's orders."

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry sat up in bed and squeezed Sirius as tight as he could.

"You'll never have to give me up again, Sirius," he mumbled. "I promise."

"Thank you," Sirius whispered, hugging him back. When Harry let him go, he continued speaking, watching Lily and James dance in the photo, not bothering to stop his tears. "I stayed there for a while after you left…James was there in the doorway. I-I think…I think he tried to take on Voldemort himself. To…to give you and Lily time to make a run for it. Of course, he was the bravest man I ever met. I don't know why he had to die so early. I really don't.

"We met on the school train, before our first year," Sirius said. "James always hated the Dark Arts, he hated Slytherin, and yet even though he knew my background, he gave me a chance…he was my first and my best friend. He was like a brother to me. So I know—so I know what that's like. To lose your other half. Because I can't describe it any other way. But I know that James and Lily will always live on forever in their son."

"You really think I'm like him?" asked Harry.

"I know it…and in time you'll come to see it too," Sirius replied. "Lily's in there, too, you know. You have her kind, loving spirit…the green eyes…and of course all that sass."

"Sass?"

"Oh, yes, she had quite a mouth on her," Sirius replied, smiling sadly. "She once told your dad she wouldn't date him if it was a choice between him and the giant squid. She was upstairs in the nursery when she died—trying to protect you.

"The human mind isn't built to deal with that sort of thing, I don't think," Sirius said thoughtfully, staring down. "You have to be careful when it happens…Memories like that, they can eat away at you…reduce you to a shell of what you once were…sometimes take away the part of you that's able to love."

"So why didn't you become that way?"

"What way?"

"You know…destroyed by your…by your losses and all that," said Harry, struggling to find a way to phrase it. "I mean, you could have been bitter…cruel…mean, unable to love or let anyone in…But you aren't. Why is that?"

"Because that sort of existence is very lonely, Harry," said Sirius, his eyes dripping with tears again. "I'm through with being lonely. You can never truly be free if you walk this world alone. When something bad happens to you, you've got two choices—you can let it destroy you and become something terrible, not much better than the problem itself…Or you can take the shattered pieces of your heart, sew them back together, and learn to love again. You don't need to forget about the people who died—never. But you can still make room for those people who are still left here on Earth. No matter what they do to me, they can never take away that part of me, that part of me that can love. And besides…do you think James would really have wanted me to sit around missing him?"

Harry shook his head.

Sirius glanced again at the photo and wiped his eyes. "If you know what I mean, I would rather be his friend and lose him than not have known him at all. Love is always a risk. But what's life without a little risk? When you take that risk…it's so worth it. There's one person I'd never want to be, and that's the person who never takes risks."

"So is Barbara a risk?" said Harry. "I mean, you love her, right?"

"Harry," said Sirius, smiling a little. "We've been on one date."

"Are you going to marry her?" asked Harry.

"That's a long way off, trust me." Sirius ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. "You don't have to share me for now."

…

Harry woke up many hours later, late in the middle of the night. Usually Sirius went home at night, so he was just about to climb out of bed and get a glass of water. But to his surprise, Sirius was sitting on the side of the bed, illuminated by a strip of moonlight. Harry didn't have to guess what he was looking at, though.

Sirius sat there for a while, still as a statue were it not for the hot tears leaking from his eyes. He wiped them away on the sleeve of his shirt, not taking his eyes off the picture.

For a minute Harry thought about going over to Sirius and comforting him, but then he figured maybe Sirius just wanted to be left alone—and besides, what could Harry say that could possibly help? So he just closed his eyes again and hugged his Prongs toy tight, letting Sirius watch over Lily and James, tears running down his nose, as they danced on, blissfully unaware of the tragic fate that would soon befall them.