A/N Sorry all. I was just about to publish when my hard drive went bonkers. I lost almost everything on it and had to re-write this chapter from memory once I got my laptop back. Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.
An extra long chapter is your gift for your extreme patience with my technological difficulties!
Also, for those that must be warned, there is a little CP scene in today's chapter. It's been a while for our young Harry, lol. He is still a stubborn boy after all! So, enjoy or ignore. Your choice.
The headmaster's office never changed. Cozy but impressive, casual but imposing, littered with a myriad of shiny pointy objects that defied logic or reason. In the corner was a large carved ornate perch where a faded orange bird hunched in declining repose. Harry idly wondered if they were visiting on a burning day.
"Hello Fawkes," he whispered as he gently stroked the phoenix. The normally majestic bird trilled contentedly from the soft touch and rubbed against the side of Harry's hand. Harry kept his attention focused on the wilting familiar, trying very hard to ignore the palpable tension in the room between his headmaster and his godfather.
Professor Dumbledore sat in quiet repose at his desk. Across from him in one of the two conjured padded chairs sat Sirius, his gray eyes troubled and stormy. Harry flickered a glance towards them every few seconds wondering which was was going to win the silent battle of wills that was taking place. True, Dumbledore was a great wizard, but Sirius was here in concern over his godson's latest nightmare and Harry was betting that the former inmate of the harsh prison of Azkaban had a good chance of taking the headmaster in the fight.
Sirius had told Harry on the way over that Professor Dumbledore strongly objected to the boy's presence during today's little meeting. Sirius disagreed. When it came to anything that could possibly be related to Voldemort, he insisted that Harry be in the know. After all, the boy had already faced him in one incarnation or another three times before his fourteenth birthday and survived. As far as the normally protective godfather was concerned, Harry had earned the right to be privy to discussions.
Harry guessed correctly. Sirius won as evidenced by Dumbledore clearing his throat and finally speaking.
"I agree with you, Sirius. I believe that there is strong enough evidence that Voldemort is beginning to take steps to regain his corporeal form." He turned his ice blue eyes over to where Harry was standing quietly, the crisp orbs unmistakeably minus their normal twinkle.
"It is my opinion that the dreams young Harry has been experiencing are actual events taking place," he said solemnly, giving the suddenly edgy boy an apologetic smile.
Sirius inhaled deeply and squeezed his eyes shut. It was exactly what he had been expecting to hear, but it unnerved him, nevertheless. In that moment, he felt so incredibly powerless to keep his beloved child safe from the growing threat of the vilest evil that had ever walked on Earth. Voldemort had killed James and Lily effortlessly. An impressive feat considering the power and skills that the Potters had possesed between them. Sirius knew that he was a talented wizard, but if his equally talented best friend and his friend's singuarly gifted wife succumbed to failure protecting Harry, what chance did Sirius have?
"Professor Snape informs me that you have made good progress with your Occlumency lessons, Harry. Have you been practicing regularly since term has began?"
Harry looked up from the floor design he had been studying and nodded. "Yes, sir." He looked over at Sirius, who was beckoning him back over to the chairs, and obediently crossed the room and sat down next to his godfather, shifting nervously in his chair.
"Excellent, dear boy. I'm happy to hear it," he soothed, the twinkle returned, as he held out a cut crystal dish of pale yellow sugar coated sweets.
Not wanting to be rude, Harry took one of the proffered candies and popped it in his mouth. "Thank you, sir."
Harry closed his eyes and briefly relived the pain he had felt during the nightmare. So now he knew that his night terrors were real terrors and he himself was sharing in the torment of the cruciatus curse.
Thanks again, Tom. There's another one that I owe you.
Sirius looked over at him, concerned, and reached over to gently rub the back of Harry's neck. "Are you okay, little one?"
Harry grimaced at the endearment in front of the headmaster and gave his godfather a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine, Sirius. Stop fussing." Sirius looked unconvinced, but he remained silent.
After twenty minutes of surmising and strategizing, Harry didn't want to talk about it anymore and asked if he could be excused. He would be ready to meet whatever was coming for him, but he refused to spend all of his time dwelling on it. No one had any concrete answers right now and he could only spend just so much time on what ifs.
This is not good. This is not good, at all.
That is what Harry kept repeating to himself after Professor Moody announced to the class that he would be putting the students under the Imperious curse during class today. Sirius was going to lose it, once he found out. Reluctantly, Harry knew that he would have to be the one to tell him, too. No one else would have a snowball's chance in hell of keeping his godfather's temper under control when he heard that the Hogwart's DADA professor was again spending lesson time casting one of the Unforgivables.
Of course, once he heard that it was being done to students, one of which was the godson that he was wildly overprotective of, Sirius Black was going to go completely mental. Of this, Harry was quite sure.
Harry shot a worried glance over to the table next to his where Ron and Hermione were staring back at him just as intently. Both knew what Sirius had told Harry about staying in a class with Moody if he was to walk down this road again. His godfather had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was to leave the classroom and fetch Sirius himself. Hermione was definitely giving him her most displeased look and Harry felt like a chided two year old which only made him more inclined to ignore her.
Staring determinedly ahead, he watched as Professor Moody cast the curse on Neville. It was too shocking to see the shy, normally clumsy boy begin to exhibit an amazing display of gymnastics that he would almost certainly never be capable of otherwise. With the professor otherwise occupied, there was no one to stop the launch of a large ball of parchment that sailed over Ron's head and smacked into Harry's.
Annoyed, Harry turned towards the source and saw Hermione glaring daggers at him and mouthing 'go get him' very insistently. Indignant, Harry turned to face forward again, watching as Dean hopped around the room singing the national anthem. He could hear Hermione huff at him impatiently and could mentally visualize her leaning back against her chair with her arms crossed like an irate mother.
He didn't really know why he wasn't obeying Sirius' order, but as he saw more and more harmless demonstrations (Lavender Brown acting like a squirrel was going to be hard to get out of his head), the more he realized that he wanted to know if he could resist it himself.
All too soon he got his wish when he saw Moody's wand pointed in his direction and felt himself immediately compelled to jump up on the desk. A pleasantly calm feeling came over him as he felt himself begin to obey the silly little request. He would have done it too if a small voice in the back of his head began to question why he would do such a ridiculous thing. His reward for his momentary hesitation was a pair of bruised knees as he half fought against the command and slammed them into the desk mid jump.
With the calm euphoria lifting, he was surprised to hear Professor Moody loudly praising him and he allowed himself to be placed under the curse an additional three times until he could resist it entirely.
By the end of the class, he was feeling well pleased with himself and slightly smug. It was only when Hermione walked out behind him and smacked him in the back of the head that he realized that his godfather would probably not share the sentiments of his self-congratulations.
Family time.
There was nothing that Sirius enjoyed more, after a long day of inspiring young magical minds, than having a quiet sit down dinner with his godson. On more than one occasion, he had felt guilty about insisting that Harry come to his quarters every day for their evening meal together. After all, the young Gryffindor was the only student in the school who was under such a restriction.
Sirius justified his actions as being one of many that he was sure that the boy's parents would have surely smiled upon. As long as Sirius could remember, family dinner at the Potter household was a compulsory affair during the holidays and summers when he had accompanied James home. No matter where they were, or what they were doing, Dorea Potter expected her son and his friend home for dinner every night.
It was an unusual tradition for Sirius to grasp at first. No matter which nauseatingly opulent residence the Black family found themselves in, Sirius and his younger brother had never been allowed to dine with just their parents. The heir and the spare of the Black family had only been trotted out on special occasions to conform to the stringent requirements of dining ettiquette amongst the wizarding pure blood families. Only when there were guests to impress, were the sons of Orion allowed at the intentionally intimidating dining table with their socially oppressive parents. There they were required to keep perfectly quiet unless spoken to, eating with the impeccable manners that had been ritually beaten into them by their cold hearted mother.
This made for uncomfortable meal times, to say the least.
Sirius quickly learned that dinner at the Potter residence was a significantly different affair. There were jokes and laughter and a feeling of warmth. James' parents doted on him shamelessly and they soaked up his every word and grin with obvious affection. As Sirius became more and more a part of the family, they doted on him as well. When James' mother passed, Sirius wondered if those times were gone. She had always seemed entirely responsible for the homey feeling that enveloped him like a warm blanket every time he went to stay.
He had been pleasantly surprised when the Potter household had lost none of its hospitality. Although Charlus Potter obviously mourned for his beloved wife, he had always made a point to keep their evening meals together as jolly as they had ever been. A huge effort on his part that did not go unnoticed or unappreciated either by his son or the boy he thought of as a son.
As time passed, they still made a point of dining with Mr. Potter as often as they could. Sometimes they would take turns if they could not both attend, just to make sure that he had as much regular company as possible. Since James and Lily were also busy starting their life together around this same time, Sirius wound up spending a great deal more time with Mr. Potter than his son had.
Sirius had appreciated this little tradition more and more as the dark days of war started to really rage. Under immense and constant pressure from Orion Black to return to his rightful place and embrace the ideals that the Blacks had long cherished, Sirius began to rely more than ever on the steadfast support and comfort that was given to him by his surrogate dad during their quiet happy meals together. Charlus' unexpected death, less than a year after James and Lily's marriage, struck a huge blow to Sirius and he grieved just as hard as James had for the only man he had ever considered to be a father.
With Mr. Potter's death, Sirius had thought that the happy dinners would come to an end but, once again, he was pleasantly surprised. The newlywed Lily picked up the mantle and the Potter family dinners continued for two more, all too brief, years.
It was with these memories in mind that Sirius looked forward to the nightly arrival of the youngest messy haired Potter that he adored.
It had not been an easy decision to let Harry come back to school this year. As the summer drew to a close, Sirius had not felt ready to let go of the boy that had only recently been given back to him. Besides the almost overwhelming desire to keep him under the abundantly protected safe haven of Celestial Court, he was feeling cheated out of time to spend with his godson, just being there for him.
The hour a day they spent at the dinner table, just the two of them, provided a much needed opportunity to continue weaving the fabric of family life.
Harry was setting the table as Sirius stood at the small cabinet pouring a glass of wine for himself and a glass of milk for his godson. Harry was being far too quiet for his godfather's comfort. Usually full of humor and boundless energy, it was offsetting to see the boy so silent as he plonked down forks and knives next to the napkins. Sirius sighed deeply, knowing instinctively that there was something wrong with his godson. He only hoped that, whatever it was, he could help make it better. As he brought the beverages over, he reached out and ruffled Harry's spiked hair affectionately, giving the boy a large goofy grin to cheer him.
Once his evening chore was finished, Harry slid into his usual chair, forcing himself to return his godfather's smile, albeit, a much smaller version. Avoiding Sirius' probing gray eyes, he grabbed his milk glass and took a few prolonged swallows as a plate of roast, mashed potatoes and peas was placed in front of him. Sirius sat down across from him and attempted to make light hearted conversation with him for almost a quarter of an hour before finally pushing his plate away in frustration.
He watched as Harry slumped to one side with his head resting against his left arm propped up on the table as he used his right hand to trace train tracks in his potatoes with his fork. Obviously, there would be no teenaged chatter at the table tonight.
"Alright, out with it. What's got your tongue this evening?"
Harry looked up, a bit startled. He hadn't realized just how transparent his actions were. Ever since he had arrived in Sirius' quarters, he had been focusing all his attention on the best way to confess to what had happened during his DADA class. He realized, just a little too late, that his inattention to his godfather had probably just made the situation even worse.
He sat up a little straighter and dropped his fork with a high pitched clang against the plate. There was nothing for it but to just spit it all out.
"I have to tell you something," he began cautiously, biting his lower lip in concentration.
Sirius lifted an eyebrow in expectation. He already knew that his godson would be unburdening himself with something this evening. He nodded gently and gave the boy an encouraging smile, silently promising to listen to him.
Harry chewed a little more forcefully on his cheek and picked the fork back up. He dropped his gaze back down to his plate and began to draw figure eights in the uneaten mound of potatoes. "But you have to swear that you won't get...how you get. At least until you completely hear me out."
Sirius was confused for a second and then realized that Harry was asking him to control his temper. When Harry flicked his eyes back up at him, Sirius nodded slowly, anxious to give the boy reassurance. "Okay, Harry. Go on. You can tell me."
Harry looked slightly wary for a moment. Sirius held his gaze and the warmth in his gray eyes finally convinced his godson to proceed. The boy sat back up straight, returned the fork to his plate and blew out a sharp breath.
"Professor Moody did a demonstration today of the Imperious curse," he stated quietly before closing his eyes and waiting for the explosion that was surely to come his way.
Sirius held his breath and counted to ten. It had become all too clear why his devious child had insisted on a promise to keep his temper. But, promise he had, so instead he channelled all of his energy into staying in his chair and not charging down the corridors to blow Alastor up into little tiny unidentifiable pieces.
Sitting in his chair, now extremely uncomfortable in the scarily quiet presence of his godfather, Harry began to fidget nervously. Such intense silence from the man never boded well for Harry. It was a fair few tense moments later before Sirius spoke again, with a tone in his voice that promised someone murder.
"Spiders again?" he asked, as he clamped his eyes shut in swelling agitation. Harry could almost feel a crackling in the air as the anger radiated off of Sirius' motionless form.
"No, sir," he whispered. His godfather opened his eyes and glared at him, wordlessly expecting a prompt explanation. Harry swallowed loudly as he struggled to find his voice.
"Students. Myself included."
Harry watched in horror as Sirius bent the fork in his hand into a mangled mess. Of course he had known that his godfather would be upset, but obviously he had seriously miscalculated how upset that was actually going to be. Panicking, he tried to reason with the man.
"Sirius, if you would just listen..."
"Quiet," his godfather ordered in a tone that brook no defiance. Harry's jaw snapped shut from the abruptness of the harsh command. Sirius never spoke to him that way.
He watched his godfather put his elbows up on the table and drop his head into his hands as he rubbed his face furiously. In the absence of the scolding that he had been steeling himself to receive, Harry began to grow irate at what he felt to be an over-reaction on his godfather's part. No one had been harmed, after all. It had all been rather fun and Harry was quite pleased with himself for being able to fight it off. He knitted his eyebrows and began to fume.
"It wasn't all that bad, we just..."
Sirius shot up from the table and balled his hands at his sides. "Go to your room, Harry."
Harry was now fuming at his godfather's reaction. It wasn't fair that Sirius wasn't even going to let him explain and he hated being sent to his room like a three year old. Stubbornly, he stayed in his chair and crossed his arms in defiance. "Can't I just say..."
He got no further. Sirius had reached over and hauled him to his feet. Harry flinched involuntarily, waiting for the inevitable prodding smack that he usually received in this kind of situation, but it didn't come. Instead his godfather leaned over and brought his face right next to Harry's ear.
"Now," he commanded quietly, in a voice so icy cold that Harry actually had chills go up his spine.
Harry didn't have the courage to look at the irate man's face again, so he cautiously pulled his arm away from Sirius' loose grasp and hurried away into his room. Once inside, he briefly toyed with the idea of slamming his door in temper, but wisely thought better of it. There was no need to provoke his godfather any further tonight. It didn't stop him from flopping onto his bed, still quite a bit miffed over the idea of being dismissed without even having been able to give his side of the story. Usually his godfather was very understanding and fair and Harry was just as hurt as he was angry over the way Sirius had treated him.
In the living room, Sirius agitatedly wore a path into the carpet as he paced. He knew that he needed to get his anger under control before speaking any further with his godson. In the state he was in, he would not be able to discuss anything rationally with the boy and Harry deserved better than that. Obviously his little chat with Alastor had been for naught. Merlin, that man had some nerve.
Harry just did not seem to understand what kind of danger he had allowed himself to be put into. Sirius really had believed that his godson understood the importance of informing him of another demonstration. Even it if had been similar to the first, there was still some danger to the safety of the students. That was the reason why there had been no live demonstration of the Unforgivables in school since long before Sirius' own time as a student.
He couldn't believe his godson's blatant disobedience in this matter. Did the boy not have an ounce of self preservation? Resignedly, he sat down heavily on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He had been hoping against hope that he had been wrong about Alastor's mental state, however, it appeared that he had spoken too soon on the matter. Measures were going to have to be taken. And soon.
He spent the next fifteen minutes regulating his breathing and calming his temper. When he went into Harry's room, he wanted to be clear minded and calm. Surely his godson had a reason for his inaction. It wouldn't save him from being punished completely but, depending on the circumstances, Sirius was willing to show a little mercy. He would be rational and patient and hear the boy out. And then he was going to paddle Harry's disobedient little backside.
Course of action plotted out, he took deep cleansing breath and squared his shoulders as he made his way to his godson's bedroom. He rapped softly on the door twice and entered when he heard the less than enthusiastic 'come in'.
Harry was laying back on his bed when his godfather knocked and he pulled himself up into a sitting position when the man entered the room. Immediately, he crossed his arms and exuded an annoyed and defiant air. The minutes that Sirius had taken to collect himself had only served as fuel for the fire of Harry's indignation and the boy was looking for a fight when his godfather came over and sat down on the bed next to him.
Sirius put an arm around Harry's shoulders and gave him a small squeeze. "Okay, tell me what happened."
Angry over what he saw as his godfather's attempt to patronize him, Harry glared. "Oh, now I'm allowed to speak?"
Sirius' buried anger began to resurface at his godson's obvious cheek. "Young man, do you have any idea of how much trouble you are in right now? You would be wise to drop the attitude and speak to me with the respect that I deserve. I promised to hear you out, and I will. I'm sorry to have taken a few minutes, but I needed to calm down before I could listen to any explanations rationally. There is no need to be so cheeky with me."
The stern tone in his godfather's voice somewhat quenched Harry's temper and he bit back a snotty retort. Looking at Sirius' grim face which held none of the usual mischief, Harry did, in fact, realize the hot water he was currently boiling in and lowered his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered.
Sirius nodded and tapped Harry's chin to raise his head back up. "Let's try this again. What happened, Harry?"
Harry took a deep breath. He was still inwardly seething, but he would try to explain to his godfather why he had felt it necessary to let the lesson continue.
"Professor Moody announced that he was going to cast the Imperious curse on each of us so, if we were ever in a tough spot, we would know what to expect. He said that some people can fight it off. I wanted to know if I was one of them," he finished simply.
Sirius just stared at him and shook his head slightly. "Do you know how dangerous that was for you? Moody could have made you do anything he wanted. He could have forced you to injure yourself or another student. This is not a game, Harry James. You can't play around like this. There is a reason why Hogwarts professor stopped giving demonstrations like this."
Harry's neck and ears started to smart from the stern scolding. He hated it when his godfather treated him like a child.
"I know, Sirius. But I was paying attention. He was only making us do silly things. Nothing harmful. If I thought that we were in trouble, I would have come straight to you, I swear."
Sirius shook his head in agitation. "I told you that you were to get me immediately if something like this happened. I don't believe that my instructions left any room for debate or interpretation."
Harry huffed in extreme annoyance. "I was handling it, Sirius. I was ready to leave the minute something happened."
Sirius took Harry by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. "Harry, your DADA professors have not had the best track record. The first two tried to kill you, for Merlin's sake. When I tell you to do something for your own good, I have a reason for it. I'm your guardian and you will obey me, case closed."
Harry pulled his arms out of Sirius' hold and glared at him defiantly. "I'm not a child, Sirius. I can take care of myself. Besides, I thought Professor Moody was your friend. I'm not afraid of him."
Sirius frowned at the willful boy. "You are still a child, Harry. My child, and I will protect you as I see fit," he stated firmly. Harry dropped his glare and focused on the floor as Sirius attempted to once again rein in his ire. "As for Professor Moody, you are right. He was my friend. A trusted one at that."
Sirius stared off towards the wall, a look of melancholy taking over his countenance. "But that was a long time ago. He is no longer the man that I knew and I don't trust him with you. I told you this before."
He had, Harry admitted. The day he had given his instructions to get out of the class if Moody acted suspiciously again. Harry knew that he was in the wrong today, but he was hurt now, as well as upset and he refused to admit it. He didn't think that it was entirely fair that Sirius was treating him like a little boy. Harry wanted to know if he could throw off the curse, and now he had found out. In his eyes, the lesson had been very instructional indeed and he wasn't going to apologize for it.
"I wanted to know if I could do it, Sirius. And now, I do. I thought you would be happy about it. Isn't it a good thing?" he asked, frustration and hurt in his eyes.
Sirius sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "I'm glad that you can, Harry. Most wizards cannot, and yes, it is a good thing. But it doesn't change the fact that you disobeyed me when I had given you firm instructions that I deemed necessary for your safety. I need to trust that you will follow my instructions, regardless of what you may think yourself. Anything I tell you is for your safety."
Sirius ducked his head to stare into his godson's vivid emerald eyes, looking at him with all the love he could muster. "I need to trust you, Harry, to obey me the next time that you get into a bad situation. You didn't do that today, even though I told you how important it was."
Harry knew that he should be feeling guilty about his actions, but he didn't. No matter what his godfather said, he felt that he had accomplished something important during the lesson. It was just too bad for Sirius if he couldn't see that. He crossed his arms and stared at the crimson bed cover, refusing to meet his godfather's sad eyes.
Sirius let out a deep breath as he steeled himself for the hard part. Earlier this summer he had promised Harry and himself as to what the consequences for endangering himself would be for his godson. He didn't want to, but he knew that he had to. He couldn't afford to send his godson mixed signals when he was putting his well being in jeopardy needlessly.
"Do you have anything else to say, Harry?" he asked, not unkindly. Harry bit his lower lip in agitation, but shook his head in the negative.
Sirius nodded in acceptance. He pulled out his wand and tapped one of the books on Harry's dresser, transfiguring it into the dreaded paddle that Harry hated. The minute the boy saw it, his eyes grew wide and he shot to his feet.
"NO," he spat out furiously. Harry had expected another grounding maybe for his defiance. He didn't even think about the possibility that his godfather would punish him any other way. "It's not fair, Sirius. I just wanted to see if I could do it. No one got hurt and I was never in any danger."
Sirius gave him a sad look and shook his head. "I beg to differ, Harry," he said quietly. "You put yourself in a great deal of danger today by allowing someone else to control your mind. If you had not been able to throw it off, the results could have been devastating. You know what your punishment is for endangering yourself. I believe I have made that quite clear in the past."
Harry just stood there shaking his head back and forth, refusing to submit. His godfather was being monstrously unfair and he would not agree to a paddling. Sirius waited for a moment, hoping that the boy would acknowledge his wrong doing, but Harry just stood there defiantly, and finally, Sirius had to reach out and grab his wrist to pull him closer.
Harry resisted as much as he dared. Even in his stubborn state, he knew that there was only just so much nonsense that his godfather was going to put up with and, after a fair amount of posturing, he allowed himself to be pulled over his godfather's lap. Hurt and humiliated, he shut his eyes as he grabbed at the bed covers and tried to concentrate on something besides the burning swats that were finding their way across his backside with lightening speed. All too quickly, hot tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down to the floor as he bit his lip to keep from crying out. When he couldn't hold back any longer, he let out a choking breath and sobbed quietly until his godfather's hand ceased to fall.
Sirius looked down at the sniffling boy draped across his lap and began to gently rub his back. It never got any easier to discipline his beloved child, nor should it, he knew. It should always be a hard decision to make. Every smack across Harry's backside hurt Sirius as painfully as if he was receiving them himself. He was sure that he had been just as anxious as Harry to get the job finished but he needed to make sure that Harry would think twice before engaging in this kind of reckless behavior again.
When Harry's sobs had quieted, Sirius lifted him to his feet and pulled him against his chest. The boy stubbornly refused to uncross his arms and return the hug, but Sirius felt him lean into it tiredly, so he accepted that Harry was nursing a pretty sore ego as well as a sore behind right then and just held him tighter.
After a few minutes of hiccuping, Harry pulled away, his eyes still refusing to make contact with his godfather's. They stood there in silence for another moment before he finally spoke.
"Are you still mad?"
Sirius grimaced. In all honesty, he was a little, but it was receding quickly now, being fast replaced with worry. "No, no really. Will you promise to obey me if this happens again?"
Harry frowned, but he nodded. "Yes, sir."
Sirius sighed and reached out to cup Harry's face with his hand. "Okay, then. Let's just put it behind us now."
He noticed Harry's pinched look and tired red rimmed eyes. Harry usually crawled into bed after being punished, emotionally and physically drained. But he had barely touched his dinner and his godfather worried about him getting enough to eat. He was so small and he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Do you want to finish your dinner? I could warm it up for you if you like?" he offered as he put his arm around the small burdend shoulders. Harry shook his head slightly.
"I'm tired. I just want to go to sleep if that's alright," he whispered.
Sirius rubbed his back and nodded. "Okay. Why don't you get changed for bed and I'll come back in a few minutes to tell you good night." He gave Harry a quick squeeze and turned to leave the room, but Harry's voice stopped him.
"Am I grounded too?"
Turning back, he looked unhappily at the forlorn figure in front of the bed. "No, I don't think that's necessary. Why?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
Harry scuffed his black heavy shoe across the small throw rug. "May I go back to my dorm, then?"
Sirius took a second, trying to suppress the hurt feeling. He reminded himself that he had promised Harry as much of a normal life at school as possible, so he nodded his consent. "Okay. If you would like."
Harry nodded. "I promised Ron and Hermione that I would be back tonight, if I was allowed," he uttered quietly, wiping away the rest of his tears on the sleeve of his school jumper.
Sirius watched his godson go back into the living room. Harry reached over the back of the sofa and gathered up his robe and pulled it on, aware that his godfather was coming up behind him carrying his book bag. Sirius handed it to the boy reluctantly. He would really have preferred to have Harry with him tonight, but he wasn't going to push it.
"I could write a permission note for you to be out in the corridors after hours if you think you might need to come back tonight," he offered, still concerned.
Harry shook his head as he walked towards the door. "No, thanks. I just want to go to bed, Sirius."
Sirius sighed as he took the boy into his embrace again. Harry stood stiff, but he allowed it. He was still injured by Sirius' reaction earlier, but he didn't want to make the same mistake he had in the summer by hurting his godfather with a refusal. He was mad at the man, but he still loved him very much. He compromised by resting his head on his godfather's chest for a minute before pulling away.
Sirius reluctantly released him, but he cupped the side of the tear stained face in his right hand. "I love you, Harry. I don't like having to do that to you. You know that, don't you?" he asked worriedly.
Harry nodded. He knew that it was just as hard on his godfather as it was on him. He still didn't feel as if he had earned it though. "I know, Sirius. Good night."
He turned and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him. Sirius watched him go with sad eyes. "Good night, little one," he whispered.
Family time. It wasn't always tea and cake, he reminded himself.
As Harry dashed down the circular staircase, he winced repeatedly from the lingering sting on his behind. Every step he took only made him more furious at what he felt was a real injustice. He knew that his godfather would be upset, but he was so angry at how upset he became. It was completely ridiculous. Harry felt as if Sirius didn't trust his judgment. He had thought better of his godfather.
He stomped determinedly through the nearly empty corridors, paying no attention to the other students who were scurrying just as quickly as he was. Curfew was fast approaching and very few of the students wanted to be caught out after hours.
Upon reaching the portrait hole for the Gryffindor common room, he was decidedly irate again and nearly was denied entry when he barked the password along with a few other colorful expletives at the Fat Lady when she insisted that he listen to her nails on chalkboard voice finish the aria she had been butchering on his approach. Only after hissing an apology through clenched teeth was he allowed inside.
Once inside, he made his way over to the sofa where Ron and Hermione were sitting with their Charms homework. Hermione saw him first and stood up quickly to greet him. In all honesty, neither one of them had expected to see Harry that evening. Sirius wasn't known for his sense of humor when it came to Harry's disobedience and they had just assumed that he would have been required to stay up in the astronomy tower that night.
Ron, looking in the direction that Hermione was now fixated on, smiled at seeing his best friend approach them. Hermione stopped smiling as Harry got closer and she saw his red rimmed eyes. It didn't take her genius IQ to know what had happened to their friend.
"Alright, Harry?" she asked, concerned. She wasn't going to mention anything else. She would never embarrass him like that.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I'm okay." He hefted his bag off of his shoulder and slipped out of his robe. He thought about plopping down on the sofa next to them, but then thought better of it and leaned against the arm instead.
Ron looked up at him in sympathy. "Was he mad?" Harry shot him a look that clearly said 'what, are you joking?'. Ron wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, right."
Harry let out a loud huff.
"I mean, what was the problem? It's not like anyone got hurt. I was being careful. You would think that I had gone out and jabbed my wand in Voldemort's...stop it, Ron...eye by the way he reacted," he growled.
Ever practical, Hermione pointed out the obvious. "I don't think that was the point, Harry. Sirius just doesn't seem to trust Professor Moody. You should have just done what he asked. You know he had his reasons."
The words sounded harsh, but they were meant with sympathy. Unfortunately, Harry was in no mood to discern the difference and he shot Hermione a nasty look. On top of Sirius' reaction, the mild dressing down he had just received from his long time friend made him bristle in a way that he had never been with her before.
"Oh, thanks a lot, Hermione. I thought you were supposed to be on my side," he snapped.
Hermione frowned at the bitterness in his voice. "I am on your side, Harry. I just don't want to see you get into the kind of trouble you got into tonight for no reason."
"No reason?" he shouted, a bit too loudly for either of the other two's taste. "I didn't do it for no reason. I wanted to see if I could throw off the curse and now I know I can. For Merlin's sake! Why isn't anybody happy about that except for me?"
Hermione gave him an exasperated look and took a deep calming breath.
"Of course we are happy for you, Harry. But if you were really that concerned about it, surely Sirius could have found a way to test you himself instead of you disregarding what he told you to do."
She really was on Harry's side and was starting to feel hurt that he didn't seem to appreciate it. It didn't skirt the notice of either Ron or herself that their best friend was a walking target and both had agreed that it would do him some good to be just a little more cautious. Harry was brave but, sometimes, he could be just a bit too reckless as well.
Harry snorted. "Oh, just brilliant, Hermione. Thanks for the support. I'll thank you to not but your nose into my business with my godfather, though."
He saw her face flush bright red, but she managed to turn away before he could see the tears that had sprung up into her eyes. Grabbing her books from the table, she started for the girl's dormitory. "Fine," she snapped, he voice watery.
Harry watched her go feeling a bit guilty. He had not meant to bite her head off. He was about to call out to her to apologize when Ron stood up and towered over him, an unfamiliar look of anger spread entirely across his red face.
"That's not on, Harry. She didn't do anything to you. There was no reason to make her cry like that," he barked uncharacteristically.
Harry took severe umbrage at his mate's demeanor. Remembering the times that Ron had upset Hermione when Harry had stood by neutrally, he inwardly seethed over what he saw as an overt hypocritical betrayal on Ron's part.
"Oh, just sod off, Ron! Like you have always been perfectly sweet to Hermione. What about Halloween first year? We almost all got killed by the troll for that. What about all the times you upset her when you accused Crookshanks of trying to kill your rat? Only, it wasn't a rat, was it? It was the man that betrayed my parents. I don't think I ever properly thanked you for that, by the way!"
Ron reeled back as if slapped. He blinked rapidly, crushed by overwhelming guilt over the very true reminder of how he and his family had unknowingly harbored a mass murderer in their home for years. A murderer who had turned out to be the man that destroyed his best friend's life. His mouth hung open as he tried to form words that wouldn't come. It was an unfair attack and they both knew it.
Harry stood in front of him, shaking a little from his spent rage and frustration. Ron was wounded by his friend's cutting remarks, but he felt compelled to justify Hermione's words. He was feeling oddly protective of her lately and it had upset him to see the tears in her eyes that she had hidden from Harry.
"She knew how important it was to Sirius, Harry. That's all," he said finally, his voice unsure and unsteady.
By this point, Harry was wallowing in guilt, but he was also feeling very abandoned. It seemed as if he were standing all alone against everyone's wrath over the incident. His godfather and both of his friends failing to see the significance of his day's accomplishment.
"Yeah, well maybe you should have just gone and told Sirius yourself, then," he spat out bitterly. "After all, you two are so close these days."
With that, he turned and stomped up the stairs to the dorm, leaving a speechless Ron behind.
Sleep would not come to either Harry or Sirius that night.
In his quarters, Sirius tossed and turned, his mind fraught with worry and guilt. He spent hours second guessing his actions in every aspect. Should he have gone to Dumbledore right away with his suspicions of Alastor's unstableness? Should he have insisted that Harry be removed from the class? Did he fly off the handle too far upon hearing the story of the day's lesson? Had he been too hasty or too harsh in spanking his godson? Should he go to Harry and check on him? Should he stomp into Alastor's quarters and transfigure him into an ottoman? Or should he just go into the living room and drain the rest of the bottle of firewhiskey?
In the end, he had settled for none of the above. He did have an extremely tense fire call with Albus who promised to have more than a word with Alastor regarding his teaching methods. Sirius had the headmaster's word that the students would not be the exposed to the Unforgivables again during Alastor's tenure there. He also had a supportive fire call with Remus who had assured him that he had acted properly and promised to come and spend the weekend with them as Friday was going to be a full moon.
Pacing across the cold floor of his bedroom, he refrained from going to the Gryffindor dorm and assuring himself that Harry was fine. Remus had told him very firmly that he should not be consumed with guilt over his determination to provide Harry with consistency. Regardless of the boy's motives, he had disobeyed. Case closed. Sirius agreed with him on one level, but it still made him sick to his stomach to have to carry things like that out. He loved Harry so much and he would do whatever it took to impress upon the boy how important it was to follow rules when it came to his safety.
Uneasily, he finally fell asleep.
In the Gryffindor dorm, Harry was lying on his side in his bed, the curtains drawn and a silencing spell cast. After he had stomped up the stairs, he lunged onto the bed and closed the drapes, wanting neither to see or speak to anyone for the rest of the evening. He would have liked to have gone back to Sirius' quarters after his fight with both of his friends, but he was too upset and ashamed.
He pulled off his clothes and shoes and crawled under the blankets in only his undershirt and pants. In defiance of his godfather's oft repeated bedtime instructions, he stubbornly refused to even brush his teeth. A small act of rebellion that wouldn't hurt anyone but himself, but he felt just a little bit better for it.
As the hours passed by, his temper calmed and he began to think about what he had said and done that day. In the end he knew that the only reason why he had been so angry with everyone was because he had felt incredibly guilty over disobeying his godfather's instructions.
Of course Sirius was concerned about him. It was his job as his guardian to act as such. Uncomfortably, he reminded himself about the magical sealing. Sirius would do anything to protect him. With his mind a little more clear, Harry realized that there had been a very high chance that he would not have been able to throw off the curse.
What then? What if Moody really was evil and had made Harry do something unspeakable, like hurting Sirius? Or Ron or Hermione? What if Harry had been powerless to stop it?
He rolled over onto his back and could feel the last twinges of soreness from his punishment. He hated it and he hated Sirius when he was doling it out but, deep down, he knew that he had deserved it. Even if he had not wanted to admit it before, he knew it and he knew how much Sirius hated doing it to him.
Right then and there he decided that he needed to go and properly apologize to his godfather who surely was feeling miserable right about now as he always did whenever Harry forced him to exert his authority.
Sadly, he realized that he should have taken Sirius up on his offer of the permission note. It was too late to be wandering the corridors and his father's invisibility cloak was in his room in Sirius' quarters. It would have to wait until morning.
A cold flash of pain hit his stomach like a bucket of ice cubes as he remembered how he had treated his friends as well. He would need to make amends with Ron and Hermione in the morning as well. It probably wouldn't be easy.
Grimacing, he pulled the blanket up to his shoulder and prayed for sleep to overtake him.
Before it was even first light, Harry had quietly drawn back his bed hangings to see the sleeping faces of the four other boys in the dorm room. On tiptoes, he gently pulled on his bathrobe and eased a fresh uniform and underclothes out of his trunk as he made his way stealthily towards the boy's bathroom. Once inside, he took a long hot soothing shower and afterwards scrubbed his teeth with extra vigor to make up for his petulant lack of attention the night before.
Easing his way out of the Gryffindor common room, he practically sprinted to the other side of the castle and climbed up the stairs of the astronomy tower, two at a time in his hurry to get to his godfather's residence. Hesitating briefly at the door, he finally summoned his courage and pushed it open to see his godfather at the table drinking a large mug of coffee. The man's eyes were blood shot from a lack of sleep and his face was pale and drawn. A sharp stab of guilt hit Harry in the stomach, knowing that it was his fault that the man was so upset.
"Harry?" Sirius said in surprise and concern as he rose to his feet. "Are you okay? Has something happened?"
Harry stood with his back pressed against the closed door and fidgeted nervously as he slowly shook his head. "No. I'm fine."
Sirius approached him slowly, his eyebrows knitted in worry. It wasn't like his godson to appear in his quarters at such an ungodly hour. Harry hated being up early in the morning.
"I'm happy to see you, Harry, but why are you here so early?" he asked kindly.
Harry looked into the gray eyes of his godfather and saw only warmth and concern there. He wasn't mad anymore and it comforted the boy enough to throw his arms around the tall man.
"I'm sorry about yesterday, Sirius," he said miserably. "I should have done what you told me to do. I just thought I could handle it myself."
Sirius held him tightly and rubbed his back as he hushed him. "There there, now. It's okay. Don't be upset about it any longer."
He led them both over to the couch and they sat down, Sirius' left arm still encircling Harry's shoulders.
"You look tired, little one. Did you get any sleep at all?"
Harry shook his head. "Not really. I wanted to come back, but I didn't want to upset you anymore if I got caught out in the corridors. It wasn't an emergency like with my nightmare. I doubt that Snape would have been so forgiving a second time and, as for Filch, forget about it."
Sirius drew him closer and soothed him. "You can always come here, Harry. Day or night. Don't worry about getting into trouble for it. I'll take care of it."
Harry nodded gratefully as he rested his head against Sirius' neck.
"I am sorry, Sirius. I just really needed to know if I could do it. I'm sorry I disobeyed you."
Sirius frowned. That was the third time that Harry had professed such an insistence on needing to know if he could throw off the curse. This was obviously not a casual interest anymore.
"Why, Harry? Why did you need to know so badly?"
He felt Harry's breathing still for a moment and it scared him. This was really not a casual matter, at all. Finally, Harry took in a deep breath.
"In my night visions, I can feel the effects of the cruciatus curse," he began in a dull tone. "I know that, if I ever get taken prisoner, I can stand the pain if I have to. But I needed to know if I could throw off the imperious." Sirius held him tighter as his body began to shake. "I needed to know that I would never be forced to hurt the people that I love just because it might be fun for some death eater to see what he could make Harry Potter do."
Sirius held him so tight it was almost uncomfortable. It was killing him that his young godson had to think this way. In moments like this, Sirius channelled his anger and frustration and tucked it away into a private place in his mind. If they kept building up like this, he was sure that he would be capable of destroying Voldemort with a single glare long before that monstrous scum ever laid eyes on his precious boy ever again.
"You could have told me this, Harry," he assured the boy in a quivering voice. "I would have helped you. I will always help you. All you need do, is ask."
Harry pressed his face into his godfather's shirt, comforted by the familiar smell of his aftershave. The scent always made him feel safe and protected. "I know. I should have. I'm sorry."
Sirius held him until it was time to go to the great hall for breakfast. Soothed and significantly more calm, he warily approached the Gryffindor table and spent several minutes grovelling out apologies to his best friends.
He apologized profusely for snapping at Hermione and when he went to make amends with Ron for the awful things he had said, the affable redhead just waved him off. Hermione was smiling again and that was good enough for him.
The three had been friends through thick and thin. They didn't make it too hard for him.
In the rotting manor house, the kneeling figure prostrated himself before the oozing lump in the molding chair.
"He can overcome it, my lord. He's already very strong," the man said shakily, anticipating the excruciating wrath that was surely headed his way.
"Unfortunate," the disembodied voice hissed. "For all of us."
The creature in the chair purred in twisted contentment for several minutes watching his servant writhe in pain on the decaying floor in front of him.