Part XX

Sirius didn't sleep well.

He was anxious and excited, but more of the former than the latter. His nightmares had been fuzzy, but they were enough to make him flinch out of the few bouts of rest he'd managed throughout the night. He couldn't remember much, but he knew the general theme was Harry getting taken from him - whether it be by dementors, or Dumbledore, or even Tom. That dream had quite possibly been the oddest of the lot, although the thought of the man who had given his life back to him ripping everything away again certainly sent chills down Sirius' spine.

Even if it was the least likely to come to fruition of all the nightmares he'd had.

Instead of rolling around in his own sweat and discomfort, Sirius rose at the ungodly hour of four in the morning, showered in his pristine and delightfully modern master bath, and set out to quietly start preparing for his charges to wake.

He was sitting in the kitchen, clad only in a thin pair of pajama bottoms and a cotton t-shirt, wrapping the last few presents for his godson when Kreacher tiredly wandered into the room. The house elf stopped and squinted his eyes further, if possible. His opinion on his master's lack of rest was as clear as his confusion.

"Master did not sleep again," said the elf, his voice twice as gravely with sleep.

Sirius merely shrugged and continued wrapping the present he was working on. "I have things to do, anyway."

"Master knows Lord Riddle made Kreacher swear to keep an eye on his sleeping," the elf continued. "Kreacher serves and looks after the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black…"

"I'm alright, Kreacher," Sirius said distractedly. "Honest. It's probably just nerves anyway."

The elf made a judgmental noise in the back of his throat. "Master might sleep better at the foot of Young Master's bed," were his parting words before he scuttled into the kitchen. Sirius couldn't tell if he was too tired to apparate or simply couldn't be bothered, but by the time Harry's presents were wrapped and stacked along the table, the restless marauder was yawning constantly.

He'd leave Harry be, despite very much so wishing to do exactly as Kreacher suggested. If the day ahead of him stood to remind Sirius of anything - aside from solidifying just how long it had been since he'd last spent so much time with Harry, and how little Harry remembered of him - it was that fourteen year old boys who barely remembered their godparent and had grown up in a neglectful, abusive household likely wouldn't take well to said godparent making a habit of sharing their bed. Even if it was in animagus form.

So Sirius curled up in the room Harry spent the rest of his time in - the Hollow - and managed to doze on a patch of carpet that Harry must've frequently lounged on.

He only got another hour or two, but it was enough to put a little strength into him, enough to make him pad down the stairs just as Kreacher started making breakfast. Not long after he'd started to anxiously fiddle with the presents again, Hermione quietly entered the room, sleep rumpled, but alert. Sirius smirked at her shirt, an old Quidditch jersey that had once belonged to Regulus, and took some measure of comfort that she finally looked comfortable in it. If Harry considered her kin, then so would Sirius.

Either way, the shirt suited her. Sirius liked to think Regulus would've found a kindred spirit in girl before him, if he'd been given the chance of course.

Hermione eyed the collection of presents on the table with mild amusement. "You realize he isn't even expecting a card," she said. "I doubt he'll know what to do with all of this."

Sirius shrugged and offered her a somewhat bittersweet smile. "I've missed a lot of birthdays," he said. "Not to mention damage control thanks to his mother's rotten family."

There were several stronger adjectives than 'rotten' on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them. Part of his mind was always acutely aware that he was a parent now, and that self control was one of the job requirements. When the teens in his house were a little older, a little less innocent, he'd loosen his filters, but for now, it probably wouldn't be very responsible of him to add a few choice expressions to their vocabularies.

Sirius picked one of the smaller gifts from Harry's pile, shifted into Padfoot, and took the present between his teeth with care. Hermione's amused snort earned her an affectionate brush against her leg as he trotted past her towards the stairs. His jaunt up the steps was quick and he was pleased to find Harry's door slightly cracked open.

Sirius listened for a moment, just to be certain Harry was still asleep, before he slipped into the room. He set the present on the bed before gently pawing at one of Harry's hands until he stirred.

Harry squinted at him tiredly, yawned, and reached for his glasses before offering Padfoot a smile. When Harry sat up, Sirius jumped onto the bed and laid beside his feet while he inspected the small wrapped box.

"What's this then?" Harry asked, his voice still a bit thick with sleep. He shook the box gently, but whatever was inside must've been soft. He could hear it sliding around, but there was no rattle, no thuds as it moved around inside the box.

Sirius used his nose to nudge Harry's hand as his tail flicked with anxiety. He didn't know how much Harry could remember from being so small, but he had hope that there were a few memories buried under the surface… if only so Harry wouldn't question how much he was loved in his new home.

Harry tore the paper from the small, slightly rectangular box, and peered inside. For a moment, he was confused.

The small stuffed toy had faded matted down black fur and had probably been plump enough to stand on its own in its prime. As it was now, the black dog, roughly the size of both of Harry's hands, was flexible - floppy even. It's short, folded ears were the only part of it that still stubbornly held their shape. Picking it up, Harry realized it was pliant enough for the legs to easily spread out in any which way.

It immediately reminded him of a stuffed cat Dudley had once owned, that he'd hugged so much the legs didn't protest being flattened against his front.

But this dog. Harry remembered it. It's shape, it's face, was familiar to him, though he barely knew why. His brows knitted together as he tried to grab onto the whisper of a memory, tried to figure out why Sirius would give him this.

Thinking about Sirius made something in Harry's mind slide into place, and he remembered. He remembered being held, being up high. He remembered the loudness and the lights. He could just barely remember being in the arms of a woman with bright, fiery hair. And he remembered spotting the black dog, pristine at the time, hanging from something…a tent of sorts…

He remembered wanting it desperately, but not why. The woman stopped walking, a man with dark hair, light eyes, and glasses frowning, trying to soothe him. And Sirius. He'd been there. He was the one to figure out what Harry had been upset about.

Oi, mate, how many points do I need for that little thing there?

"Were we…" Harry started to ask, trying his damnedest to remember what happened next. He couldn't recall what else Sirius and the man under the tent had said, but he could remember Sirius grinning at him. Assuring him of something. "Were we at a…a carnival or something?"

Padfoot's tail twitched happily and a quiet, encouraging 'woof' was Harry's answer.

"And…you…" The memory was growing fainter. Sirius did something, talked to the woman with red hair and the man with the glasses, and eventually the latter two started cheering. Harry had been watching the toy. He remembered the man in the tent, or booth, he supposed it was, getting it down from it's hook and passing it to Sirius.

He remembered Sirius turning towards him, presenting him with the black dog.

Snuh-lufs!

The toy had been half Harry's size at the time and he'd eagerly taken it. Hugged it with all his might. But he hadn't stopped looking at Sirius.

I lufs snuh-lufs.

Sirius' smirk turned warm, fond, and he'd lifted Harry from Lily's shoulder to balance him in his arms instead. Snuffles loves you too, buddy.

Harry blinked and the memory was gone. "I thought it looked like you," he said, slightly dazed.

Sirius moved farther down the bed and shifted back into himself. Harry hoped he wouldn't cry. He was having a time of not crying himself, and he hated feeling like a baby in front of his godfather.

"Seemed to us like you wanted a substitute Snuffles for when I wasn't around, or when I wasn't in my animagus form," Sirius said quietly. "I'm surprised you remember that. The lot of you went into hiding not too long after we went to that carnival. You were barely over a year old."

Harry turned his gaze back to toy. "How'd you even find it?"

"Tom let me look through old boxes of evidence and such that's apparently been shrunken down in an old DMLE storage vault this entire time. There wasn't much worth saving, but I found that in there and patched it up…" Sirius trailed off for a moment before looking away, his expression tight. "They would've found it in your nursery somewhere. Maybe even in your crib… We can always go look through that stuff again if you'd like. Tom had it all moved to my personal vault."

"I doubt I'll remember much more," Harry muttered, setting Toy Snuffles on his nightstand. "But I guess it couldn't hurt, yeah?"

Sirius ran a hand through Harry's hair and Harry leaned into the touch instinctively. He got the sense it was something Sirius had done a lot when he was a baby.

"Not today though," Sirius assured him. "Now, up ya get, kiddo. Use the loo, brush your teeth, brush your hair-" He paused, smirking, "-as best you can. Wear your pajamas if you'd like, or change. Doesn't really matter to me. Breakfast will be ready soon though."

He rose from Harry's bed with a wink. "We'll be downstairs when you're ready."

Harry offered him a small smile. "Alright."

When Sirius left, Harry slid out of bed, and his expression didn't change even as he went about his morning rituals.

He liked his present more and more the longer he thought about the faded memory.

He wondered if it'd be weird to hug Sirius when he went downstairs…

Harry's 'party' wasn't really a party.

He spent the morning with Sirius and Hermione opening his presents. The sheer volume of them stunned him, and his first thought upon seeing the pile on the dining room table was Dudley would have a conniption if he saw these. He got more clothes of all sorts to fill his closet. He got at least one pair of shoes for every foreseeable occasion - casual, outdoors, winter, and fancier shoes of both wizarding and muggle variety. He got cloaks, a quilt that had belonged to his parents, a toy snitch, and a new broom. He got books to line his half of The Hollow. He got nice quills and ink and parchment for the desk in his bedroom (that was apparently not part of his school supplies, but purely for at-home use). He got Quidditch figurines and an encyclopedia of flying tricks from Hermione. He got candy.

But what mattered most was that he got attention, not that he realized it. Sirius did, though, and was more relieved by the hour as Harry's initial shyness about his birthday turned into the bright joyousness a thirteen year old boy should be basking in. Sirius took note of the fact that Harry was more affectionate with Hermione than usual, hugging her, seemingly, whenever the urge struck him. And though Sirius wished Harry wouldn't hesitate to seek that affection from him as well, he knew his boy just needed some time.

Tom and Remus stopped by for tea, wished Harry well, and presented him with a few more gifts. Galleons and an enchanted dream catcher from Tom - "I'm told they aid in efficient sleeping. Do let me know if you notice an effect, won't you, Harry?" - and a small photo album from Remus. There were few photos inside, all magical, but they were from Harry's first year of life. Most of them were of him and Sirius together.

"I found a few of these tucked away. I figured the two of you might like copies of them," Remus had said softly.

Harry flipped through it briefly, determined to give it a proper study later in the day, and found one from the day Sirius had won him Toy Snuffles. The wide, doe-eyed smile baby Harry had given Sirius as he clung to the stuffed animal only solidified that as a baby, Harry had some grasp of Sirius being both Snuffles and himself. He'd been so happy, his little grin mischievous, and his clever eyes shining even after Sirius snatched him up for a cuddle.

It made him smile and Harry had thanked Remus profusely.

Halfway through tea, the Malfoys arrived. Once Harry opened his gift from Draco - expensive treats and several posters of famous Quidditch Players - the three teens ran off to show Draco the house. After a thorough tour, they settled into the Hollow to relax and talk about what they'd all been doing since Harry and Hermione left Malfoy Manor. They talked about the upcoming school year, glossed over Harry and Hermione's unfortunate housing situation, and eventually got on the topic of Draco's other friends.

"I think you'd like most of them," he said. "Crabbe and Goyle are just lackeys, but Davis, Nott, and Zabini are good people. Their families work closely with mine and I'm pretty sure Theo's father is an original member of the Order of Hermes." He shrugged, deeming the detail less significant that he originally thought. "Anyway, we usually meet up to finish our school shopping in August. If you two came along, you could meet them all."

Harry and Hermione were wary at first, but Draco's assurances eventually made them less hesitant. By the time Draco was due to go home, they agreed to think on his offer and talk to Sirius about it.

When their guests dispersed, Kreacher announced that Harry's birthday dinner was ready, and the three remaining inhabitants of Number 12 Grimmauld Place followed him into the dining room. An array of treats was presented for dessert, among them a small chocolate cake with thirteen candles. Harry smiled wryly at it.

"Make a wish," said Sirius.

Harry glanced at his godfather, then at his best friend, and back. His wish decided, he made quick work of his candles and sat back, satisfied.

He was so content, in fact, he didn't pay much mind to Hermione discretely excusing herself for the night. She gave Harry one last hug and a kiss on the cheek, claimed she was heading to bed, and went upstairs. Still buzzing with leftover energy from the day, Harry wasn't quite ready for bed himself. Thankfully, it didn't seem like Sirius was either.

"Come on," he beckoned after polishing off another biscuit. "What better place to wind down after a proper birthday than in the drawing room?"

Sirius used his wand to move the furniture around, and they ended up sitting on the floor with their backs against the couch. Harry sat uncomfortably beside him for a solid three minutes before biting the bullet and leaning over to rest his head on Sirius' shoulder in something akin to a hug. The hug he'd been wanting to give the older man since that morning.

And just when he was about to pull away, worried he'd made Sirius uncomfortable, or embarrassed himself somehow, Harry felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and hold him still.

"Thirteen is not too old to want or need affection from your family," he said quietly. "If you need something, you tell me. I don't care if you think it's stupid, or immature, or whatever the hell the bleeding Dursleys convinced you to think about normal, healthy family interactions…"

Harry's eyes burned when fingers started running through his hair, and he scooted closer still, despite the anxiety in his limbs.

Sirius kept talking, ignoring the trembling in Harry's shoulders. "I've been trying to make this first while as simple as possible, because I want you to adjust and I want you to have as relaxing of a summer as you can, given how busy it's been," he said. "What I don't want is you for to go back to school worried sick about upsetting me somehow, or…bloody hell, Harry, I dunno… thinking I won't want you anymore if you got into trouble."

The wince Harry failed the stifle at the words made Sirius lean down and kiss his hair.

"Until this summer, you didn't remember that you had a godfather. Until this summer, I didn't think I'd ever get to be one again, didn't think I'd ever see you again. And I will be grateful to Tom Riddle until the day I die for righting the wrongs of lesser men, but I want you to understand something, Harry."

When Sirius paused, Harry blinked a few tears away, wiped his face on the back of his hand, and tilted his head up to look at him. Sirius' expression was somber.

"Even when you were a baby, you were my son," he said softly. "You were James' boy and Lily's baby, but you were mine too. Sometimes you'd cry if James picked you up and I was around, fussing until I took you. Sometimes you'd be kind to your mum long enough to have some milk, then brush her off too. We all had a good laugh about things like that back then. It was funny to watch you pick your favorite of the week or month. I was around as much as I could be and I spent almost as much time with you as your birth parents did." Sirius surprised Harry by kissing his forehead - his scar - and hugging him tighter. "Until this summer, you were the godson I'd lost," he murmured. "But you are my son, Harry James Potter, whether the 'god' is in there or not. This is your home now and nothing could persuade me to change that fact."

Harry hid his face against Sirius' shoulder and swallowed the painful lump in his throat. "Thank you," he managed to say quietly.

Sirius snorted. "Please don't thank me for not being an abusive arse. It makes me want to do things to those people that would put me back in Azkaban and I'd rather be here."

Harry pressed closer still. "Please don't."

There were lips on his hair again. "I will do everything in my power to never leave you again, Harry," he promised. "At some point tomorrow I do want to talk about rules though. We'll have a nice long chat about what I expect from you, what you think you should expect from me, what you should actually expect from me, and we'll lay out whatever ground rules are needed for you to know what to expect when you get back to school."

Harry shrugged and nodded. This 'talk' idea made him nervous, but Sirius didn't make it sound like it was optional.

"Enough heavy talk, I think." Sirius shifted slightly to get more comfortable and moved the hand in Harry's hair down to rub his shoulder. "Relax, kiddo. You can sit here and have a cuddle with me properly, if you'd like. Loving you is one of the perks of the job. Just because your mum's family chose not to take that benefit doesn't mean it's not on the table."

After more gentle prodding, Harry eventually ended up fulled pressed against Sirius' side, with Sirius reclining against the couch slightly and Harry's head resting near his collarbone. Pointed acknowledgment of Harry's right arm resting awkwardly on his legs led to him having his arm wrapped around Sirius' chest as well. It took several long minutes, but eventually he relaxed until he was only aware of the warmth of the fire and the gentle pattern Sirius was drawing against his arm.

He felt small, and part of him hated it, but eventually that feeling was replaced with something else. Something warm and sad and bitter all at once. It made his eyes burn. Sirius didn't make him talk about what was making him sniffle now, but produced a handkerchief from somewhere and passed it to him without a word.

Harry was nearly asleep when the words "I love you" were spoken softly above him.

He didn't remember saying "Thank you for not forgetting about me" but he remembered the quiet chuckle that echoed under his ear and the fingers that found their way back into his hair.

"As if I could ever forget about you, kiddo."

Happy Thursday... Or Feelsy Thursday, I suppose :)