With an uncharacteristic frown, Sirius held up the shirt and inspected it for a whole ten seconds before tossing the item into the overflowing walnut chest on next to him.

The hour was quite late and any regular, boring person would have been fast asleep by now. Then again, Sirius Black had always prided himself on being neither of those things, so here he was, reorganising his wardrobe.

Besides, sleep was a scarce entity on most nights and anyone would argue that it was better to do something productive than toss and turn until sunrise.

No one had touched his things in over a decade for obvious reasons. When Sirius had moved back in, his new clothes and other items had taken up only a small space in the luxurious walk-in.

He'd been putting off cleaning the place for a while now before suddenly concluding that it was high time he dealt with it.

"You said you were going to bed."

Harry Potter stood at the entrance of the walk-in, looking younger than his twelve years. His perpetually messy dark hair was sticking up in all directions, crease lines ran across his cheek from his pillow as he blinked owlishly at his godfather.

"And you are supposed to be asleep," Sirius countered.

There was a beat before the boy answered. "I was thirsty," Harry yawned, holding up a bottle of water, his other hand coming up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It was then that he noticed his surroundings: the piles of clothes in one wooden chest, empty hangers, shoes and an odd sock on the carpeted floor.

"Are you... cleaning?" Disbelief and amazement coloured his tone.

"Well, as a wise man once said: procrastination is the grave of opportunity."

"I doubt this is what he meant by that," Harry gestured around the walk-in.

"I promise I'll wrap this up in a bit. Why don't you go back to bed?"

Harry nodded but made no move to go back, still lingering at the entrance.

"What is it?"

"Is it... is it okay if I stick around here for a bit? I don't think I can fall asleep for a while." Harry gave a little shrug, his eyes downcast.

Not for the first time, Sirius felt a fresh wave of anger towards the boy's former guardians. He'd ensured they received their just desserts, but that didn't mean he loathed them any less.

"It's more than okay, pup. Besides, I could use some of your stellar organisational skills in here."

Harry rolled his eyes, but the tension eased from his shoulders.

Almost two hours later, they had successfully sorted through three shelves of old clothes, handkerchiefs, ties and watches.

"You have more than a dozen watches and yet this is the only one you wear," Harry observed, holding up the vintage Patek Phillipe that Sirius wore nearly all the time. "And by the way, why do you have so many watches?"

Sirius would concede that he did have a certain fondness for that timepiece as compared to the other ones in his admittedly impressive collection.

Rolex, Omega, Audemars Piguet, Constantin... the list was easily worth a few million galleons. Most of them had been gifts from various people while the rest he'd purchased because he had been young, rich and bored.

The one in Harry's hand however was special. "It belonged to my grandfather. He gave it to me when I was nine." The watch had hung off his wrist back then, the dial ridiculously large. Now, it fit him like a glove.

Arcturus Black had been a formidable man. Stern, ruthless and utterly merciless in his wrath.

Even at the age of seventy five, he had been a force to be reckoned with. Despite his ruthlessness, he'd always held a soft spot for his older grandson. In fact, his grandfather was the only in the family who hadn't treated Sirius differently when he'd been sorted into Gryffindor.

That being said, Arcturus had had his flaws. But none of that had mattered at the time to a boy who was relieved that there was at least one person in that big, detached manor who still cared about him.

"Were the two of you close?" Harry ventured hesitantly, as though afraid that the man would shut down any second. Sirius never talked about his family.

"We were. He used to say I was his favourite and it annoyed the hell out of my little brother even though both grandmothers clearly liked him better."

The words were out of his mouth before he realised that this was the first time in over a decade that he'd spoken out loud about his family.

Reverently, Harry placed the watch back in the box and closed the drawer.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"You know how you always say that I can talk to you about anything?"

Sirius hummed softly, unsure where this was headed.

"That goes... it goes both ways, okay? You can always... you know, tell me... stuff." The boy trailed off, as though he expected to be mocked.

"I mean I know I'm just a kid and you don't have to if you don't want to. But, I'm... here," he finished eloquently, unaware that his simple, nervous words had knocked the wind out of his godfather.

Sirius swallowed. Once. Twice. The boy couldn't possibly know how much those two little words meant.

Of course someone as emotionally closed off as Sirius would land up with a kid who had a heart of gold and wore it on his freaking sleeve.

Harry Potter, the boy who had effortlessly slipped past Sirius Black's impenetrable defences the moment he was born.

"Thank you." Unable to say anything more, Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulder and hoped that the he understood.

He clapped his hands together. "How about a small break? I think there's some pizza left over from dinner."

Pizza at three in the morning probably wasn't the healthiest option, but seeing how Harry's eyes lit up, Sirius decided it was worth it.

Besides, he had recently learnt that part of being a good parent meant making slightly irresponsible choices from time to time.

"And hot chocolate."

A short laugh escaped him, and he tousled the boy's hair. "Kids these days, their greed truly knows no bounds."

"You'll heat up the garlic bread as well?"

"Don't push it, pup."

On their way out, Sirius grabbed the leather bound hardback resting on the edge of a shelf.


The mouth-watering aroma of rich marinara sauce filled the kitchen. Sirius loaded one large slice and garlic bread on a plate and pushed it towards Harry.

"When was this taken?" The boy flipped through the photo album with an almost heart-breaking gentleness, as through it would disappear if he startled it.

"The summer after Hogwarts. They had gone to Hyde Park after meeting with Lily's parents."

The picture captured Lily and James Potter, frozen in time with their arms around each other. It was a smidge blurry, taken with a muggle camera, but the easy smile on their faces was unmistakable.

They looked so happy, carefree, still mere teenagers. With a small smile, Harry turned the page.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the next picture.

"You used to smoke?"

Sirius was nineteen when it had been taken. He'd been sitting on the steps of the Château de Aurilles in France with a cigarette hanging from his fingers. The smoke curled upward, partially obscuring his face.

"I used to. A very long time ago. I think it was the morning after my birthday. There had been a party the previous night, one that had continued into the early hours of the morning."

Wild night was an understatement.

"Who wrote this?" Harry snickered, pointing to the messy words scrawled beneath the picture.

Caution: Too hot to handle. Symptoms include swooning, drooling, compromised verbal functioning ability and cardiac arrest.

Sirius smirked at the words. "Your dad did. He liked to think his sense of humor was funnier than it was."

But damn if he didn't miss it every single day.

"Am I allowed to smoke?"

"Absolutely not."

"That seems fair. Although it does look wicked."

"It's not. No smoking, it's very bad for you." Sirius warned. Perhaps he was a hypocrite, but he was more than okay with that.

"What made you give it up?"

"I quit shortly before you were born. Lily wouldn't have let me hold you otherwise. It was an easy choice, although I did second guess my decision when you threw up on my favourite leather jacket."

"Nobody said quitting would be easy."

The cheeky response coupled with the mischievous grin took him by surprise. Sirius narrowed his eyes at the boy's newfound sass.

"Careful now. I can always exact revenge in other ways," he threatened without heat. "I've destroyed others for far less. Defiance will not be tolerated."

Harry held his hands up in mock surrender. "Yessir."

The next picture was one of Lily and Sirius sitting on the floor in the Gryffindor common room and grinning like idiots at the camera, books and rolls of parchment scattered around them.

"That's when we were studying for the NEWTs."

Harry snorted when he read the caption.

James Potter's one true love... and a girl named Lily.

"You have Dorcas Meadows to thank for coming up with that one."

They skimmed through the next couple of pictures:

Remus lying face down on the couch in the common room, having given up on Potions. That had been taken on the same day as the previous one.

Sirius and Marlene leaning against the former's motorcycle after a long ride in and around London. They'd been busy running last minute errands for Lily and James' wedding.

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter outside James' parents' house when they were sixteen.

Harry stopped abruptly at the next photograph. It was different from the others they had looked at so far.

For one, it was taken using a magical camera and second, the tone was much more sober.

Two boys, aged about six and eight stood on either side of a strikingly beautiful woman.

Sirius' smile slipped when he saw it. He had forgotten that these even existed. He should've reorganised the bloody photos first. But he didn't stop Harry from looking at them.

"Is this your mum?"

Mum. He'd never called her that. Mother. Cold, regal and severe. Walburga Black had never been Mum.

"It is," he admitted instead. "And that dolt on her other side is my baby brother, Regulus." Sirius was proud of himself when his voice didn't shake.

Ten years, it would seem was enough time to move on from the pain and guilt.

Harry frowned at the photo, then looked up towards the massive sitting room in the manor, then back at the photo.

"Yes, this was taken here." Nearly twenty-five years ago.

"Your brother... where is... what happened?"

Nope. Definitely not ready to touch upon that.

"I'll tell you one day, I promise." And he would. Just not at the moment.

Sirius drew in a sharp breath when he saw the next picture.

The entire Black family in all its terrifying might and glory.

"The Yuletide ball, 1974."

Orion and Walburga, Cygnus and Druella, the cousins: Bellatrix, Andormeda, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus. In the centre, on matching high backed chairs sat Lord and Lady Black: Arcturus and Melania.

Each of them was devastatingly prefect, at least on the outside. Tall and silver-eyed with sculpted cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass.

Sirius identified them all to Harry who paid rapt attention.

Not a single smile in sight. Harry had learned that although there was no such thing as Wizarding royalty, the Blacks came pretty close. Rich, powerful and seemingly invincible.

He wasn't the most observant of people, but in the last two months, he had understood that family was a sore subject for his godfather.

"Do you... do you miss them?"

"Some of them." The revelation was soft, hardly above a whisper.

Harry wouldn't push. Sirius had always been patient with him, and he was determined to do the same for the one person who had become a constant, solid presence in his life.

They went through the rest of the album while sipping their hot chocolate in comfortable silence.

"Did you finish packing?" Sirius asked, breaking the quiet.

"Uhh..."

Harry mustered the most innocent expression he could summon and directed it at the man. He had meant to get to it two days ago— honestly—but he'd succumbed to the forces of an impossibly powerful adversary: laziness.

"We're getting to it first thing in the morning, young man."

The new term began in less than two days.

Harry wasn't quite ready for the summer to end.

"I'm going to miss... this." He mumbled into his mug.

"Many would. I do make an amazing hot chocolate."

Harry looked up briefly to glare at Sirius, only to be swept into a one armed hug. Still sitting on the bar stool, he leaned against his godfather and returned the gesture.

"I expect letters. At least once a week. Is that understood?"

"I promise."

"I'm holding you to that. Be warned, I will resort to drastic measures if necessary."

"You won't have to."

"Good lad." Sirius dropped a kiss against Harry's temple and held him close for a second longer before releasing him.

"I'll miss you."

Harry uttered the words so softly, he was almost sure Sirius didn't hear him. He'd never known what it was to have a father before, but he was sure it was exactly like this.

He'd learned that much this summer.

"I'm going to miss your annoying presence too. And before you know it, you'll be back home for the holidays."

"I know."

Home


A short, fluffy little something before the upcoming fic.

I should probably stop writing about the Black family in my stories.

Will I though?

*Cue maniacal cackle*

Let me know what you think and the next instalment in the Meeting the Godfather series will be out shortly.