As soon as they emerged in one of the fireplaces at Grimmauld Place, Sirius took the bag containing the diadem and placed it securely inside of a dresser in one of the spare bedrooms.

"I'll have Remus come over in a few days to help me destroy this, but I won't have it interrupting our time together in the meantime," Sirius explained, dismissing the once artifact from the founders from his mind. Placing his hands on Harry's shoulders, he added, firmly, "Before you say that you can handle it, my answer is no." At Harry's brief look of hurt, Sirius continued, more gently this time, "Sorry, pup, but fiendfyre is almost too much for two full grown Marauders to handle on their own, and I'd be damned if I took the risk of letting anything happen to you."

Last year, Harry might have protested. Perhaps. But Sirius was the one person he trusted entirely, and he wasn't all that keen on seeing the dark magic of a horcrux being unleashed.

"Well, I suppose destroying one on my own is more than enough, right?" he answered, grinning up at his godfather.

Sirius snorted, then tousled Harry's hair. "More than enough, indeed! Why, I nearly had a heart attack just hearing you tell me about meeting Tom Riddle in the Chamber and what transpired, pup."

"Glad I tell a good story," Harry returned, with an easy smile. Then, he added, "I can always show you the memory in the Pensieve, if you like.

Sirius groaned. "And give me a heart attack while you're at it, pup! I thought you rather liked having me around," he added, with a slight pout to his voice.

Harry threw his arms around Sirius. "I do."

Sirius hugged him back, then pressed Harry's head against his chest. "And to think," he murmured, "that was your third encounter with Voldemort..."

Harry tried to laugh, but couldn't quite manage it. Disentangling himself from Sirius, he said, rather grimly, "Yeah, well. That was almost easy compared to what happened in my fourth year."

Sirius sighed a bit, then pulled Harry into another long hug. Harry tried to chuckle at the frequency of two hugs in less than a minute, but the memory of Voldemort rising had come to him very suddenly, and all he wanted at that moment was Sirius's comfort. So, he responded easily, wrapping his arms around Sirius almost fiercely, then letting his head rest against his godfather's shoulders.

"Last year's encounter was no picnic, either," Sirius murmured, still holding Harry close.

"I still worry, sometimes, that he's taken you, or something went horribly wrong when you went off in search of a horcrux," Harry admitted, turning his head a bit to look at Sirius. "But I have the mirror to check, and you're still there."

Sirius let go, just a bit, keeping an arm protectively around Harry's shoulders. He guided him to the couch in the sitting room, and they sat down.

"I promise, pup, I won't do anything reckless. Remus and I go through each piece of the plan carefully, and the only real trouble we got into was Bella's duplication charm burns." He left out a deep breath. "However, I wasn't always so careful, and I should never have left the house last spring. I was so scared for you, and I wanted to do whatever I could to protect you. For once, I should have listened to Snape."

"You nearly died. I saw you almost go through the veil."

Harry's voice was small, and he felt like he was a child again, instead of sixteen.

Sirius wrapped his other arm around him. "I know. I think about it most nights. I promise, I'll be careful with destroying the diadem, and I won't go rushing into danger, pup."

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

Harry rested his head against Sirius's shoulder, and his godfather tightened his arms around him so that it was secure, but not constraining, and certainly not painful. They remained like that for awhile. When they stood up, motivated by growling stomachs on both ends, they found that it was still rather early for dinner, but not terribly so, and besides, their stomachs would not be ignored. Sirius set about reheating from leftovers from the previous evening, including nearly an entire half a treacle tart for dessert. As usual, they ate in companionable silence, which Harry was especially happy about given their rather serious talk after arriving. Once the plates for washed and put away, Sirius suggested that Harry take a hot shower, promising he'd give him a long back massage afterwards.

"You haven't had one of those in quite some time, pup," Sirius observed, with a smile, "and it's especially pleasant in this cold weather. I can set up a fire in my-our-room, if you like."

The summer before, Harry might have protested, saying that Sirius didn't need to do any of that. But his experience with Sirus's back massages, and the stiffness in him from crouching over most hours in classes or in Quidditch training...he had no reason to say no, and every to say yes.

Especially since he knew that Sirius enjoyed giving them as much as Harry enjoyed receiving them.

"I'd really like that. Thanks," Harry answered, quietly, but with a grin.

Perhaps understanding the change in just how close they had become since the beginning of the summer, Sirius extended his arms and Harry immediately stepped forward, receiving Sirius's long hug as much as giving his godfather one of his own.

"Mmm," Sirius murmured, once Harry had let go. "That was nice. Now," he gently ordered, "go shower, pup. I'll still be here when you get back."

With a nod, Harry headed to the bathroom they shared, glad that for all of their dark leanings, the Black family was modern enough to use plumbing, as opposed to chamber pots and hauling buckets of water into a bathtub. Once inside the shower that could have held the entire Dursley family at their heaviest, with room for Aunt Marge besides, he basked in the hot water for several moments before cleaning himself. Afterwards, Harry dressed into a favorite pair of pajamas Sirius had bought him over the summer. They were flannel, with Gryffindor color stripes on them, and perfect for a cold night. He had a matching dressing gown, but that was back at Hogwarts. He had gotten good at summoning, but doubted anyone could summon an item from that far away. All the same, the memory of the day they had spent together in the muggle shops made him smile to himself. Not all wizards acted like Mr. Weasley, as enthusiastic as he was around anything to do with the muggle world.

He entered the massive bedroom the two of them shared, and joined Sirius on his bed without any embarrassment. His godfather, reading a book, had already changed into his own sleepwear, which looked a bit like a combination of wizarding robes and a female muggle nightgown. Sirius's current one looked as though the material were made from flannel. All the same, nothing about Sirius looked remotely feminine, and that was saying something, with his curly hair nearly reaching his shoulders.

"Have a good shower?" Sirius asked, smiling at Harry as he placed his book face down on the bedside table.

Harry nodded, returning Sirius's smile with a grin of his own. "I was just thinking it was good that your family uses some muggle technology. Instead of, you know, chamber pots and having to heat buckets of water over a tub."

Sirius chortled as he gently removed Harry's shirt, then laid Harry lay down on his stomach.

"Very astute. Mind you, pup, heating the bath water and pouring it into the tubs-which would have been as massive as the ones we use today-would have been the job of the house elves. Not very difficult for them, I reckon. However," Sirius frowned, trying to recall whatever history lessons about his family that had managed to stay in his head after two decades, "I believe that they stopped doing that well before my grandfather was born. And you're right, because as much as they hated muggles, they certainly embraced some aspects of their world, including pipes and proper bathrooms and tubs," Sirius finished, with a chortle.

"Your shower and tub, I reckon, can easily hold the Dursleys and Aunt Marge at the same time," Harry pointed out, stretching himself out like a cat as Sirius began to massage the highest part of his neck.

"I've no doubt that's true, and I've seen all their girth except your uncle's pathetic excuse for a sister," Sirius answered, dryly. "And it's ours, pup, not mine." Giving Harry a squeeze, he added, "Everything of mine will belong to you. I made you my heir the moment you were born."

"I don't want to think of you dying for at least another hundred years," Harry protested.

"I don't need to die for my belongings to become yours, pup," Sirius explained. "It's really only muggles that do that."

"Even so...I rather want things to stay as they are. With us, anyway." Harry struggled to find the words. "Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense, pup," Sirius assured him. "I understand entirely."

Sirius's fingers kneaded around Harry's neck, and Harry let out a long sigh. It was far more relaxing, restoring even, than what Harry remembered. He could feel the tension he hadn't known he'd been carrying began, first, to ease, then disappear entirely. Sirius continued to knead around his entire neck for several minutes before moving his hands to Harry's shoulders with the same level of care.

"That feels amazing. 'Course, at this rate," Harry murmured, "I'll be asleep before you finish half my back."

Sirius chuckled. "Your dad used to say the same thing and, yet, he always managed to stay awake the whole while. Even if he did snore afterwards."

"He snored?" Harry asked, trying, and failing, to imagine that picture.

"Didn't I tell you?" Sirius chucked. "He snored nearly every night. We all had to wear earplugs."

Harry could see the marauders wearing earplugs to block out his dad, and chuckled at the image.

"You're show me a memory of that, sometime?" he requested.

"It would be my pleasure, pup," Sirius grinned.

Harry let his eyes close his eyes as his godfather began to knead at a particularly tight muscle just below Harry's neck. Harry knew why it was so tight-he bent his neck over in that angle for hours each day while he studied. The ministrations didn't hurt-Sirius was too careful, too gentle, for that-so Harry could let himself savor the feeling of Sirius' hands easing the tension along his neck, feeling rather like a cat being stroked. He marveled at just how good Sirius was at this, and how lucky he was to have a godfather who loved and cared for him so much. Of course, this line of thinking could take him into a more dangerous direction, so he forced himself to focus on the feeling of the massage, on the present where he had time with Sirius, and not on what they had lost.

"Know why that area is so taut?" Sirius wondered, and Harry could tell from his tone that Sirius was not reprimanding or even chiding him, only curious.

"I guess I sort of lean my head over when I study," Harry explained, brow furrowing as he thought about it.

"Ah, that's right," Sirius recalled, adding a little more pressure. "Not enough high backed chairs in the common room. Slytherin and Ravenclaw rather have a monopoly on those. Far better for studying for hours on end, though, and you don't end up with a crick in your neck afterwards. We had some friends in Ravenclaw, and occasionally studied there. A good, high backed chair can make all the difference. Good for concentrating, too."

Harry closed his eyes, but his mind was on possible solutions. "Maybe Hermione can transfigure a few for us," Harry thought aloud.

"Since it would be going from one type of chair to another, it shouldn't be difficult," Sirius said, rather contemplatively. "Give it a try, first, and then see how it works. Not that I don't enjoy this time together, but I hate to see you in pain in the meantime," Sirius added.

"I'll try," Harry promised.

Sirius soon moved his hands away from Harry's neck, and to his shoulders. Harry felt himself closing his eyes once more, and it was only after several minutes that he remembered what Sirius had said about his father's loud snores.

"Did mum? Snore, I mean?"

More laughter from his godfather. "No, but wouldn't that have been a sight? The two would have needed to sleep separately, perhaps, or maybe it wouldn't have mattered. However," he added, and Harry could hear the mischief in Sirius's voice, "around our seventh year, after the two of them had been going out for at least a month, Lily told us that her sister, your awful aunt, snored like an ox, and both of her parents as well, so James should count himself lucky that she didn't," Sirius laughed. "And he'd say that he was too deep of a sleeper to notice if anyone else was snoring or not."

Harry snorted. "Uncle Vernon snores, too."

"I'm well aware. He sounds like a bull." Sirius mused, snickering. "I could hear him, every night, back when I stayed in the guest room. It was one of the reasons I was happy to join you in yours even though, of course, I wasn't happy that you were having nightmares again," Sirius admitted.

Harry did not want to think about his nightmares. "What about earplugs?" Harry retorted, playfully.

Sirius snorted. "Well, now that I'm older, they're not exactly comfortable. Or, perhaps, I have funny ears. Your dad always claimed that this was the case. If you ever get a chance, take a good look at Draco Malfoy. Or pictures of our family. Our ears are larger than normal. As are our heads," Sirius added, with a snort. "Anyway, I knew you were prone to nightmares, and even charmed earplugs, the kind that let in certain noises, are prone to fail. I decided I'd rather risk hearing the walrus."

Harry chuckled, but his focus was now on Sirius's hands around his mid back, which felt as close to perfection as he could imagine, and even more so as they lightly traveled along his spine. A light shiver passed through him, and he might have even let out a purring noise.

"Mmm," he murmured.

Sirius increased the pressure slightly, moving in a circular motion.

"That was your dad's favorite spot," Sirius said, softly.

"How often did you...?" Harry trailed off, sure that his brain had more or less turned to mush.

"After most practices, and after all games. Quidditch could be a really violent game, which you know, especially when Slytherin and Hufflepuff were involved. Your dad got hit by more bludgers than most of the team put together, especially after he became captain," Sirius explained as his hands moved downwards along Harry's spine. "You might find it hard to believe, with the emphasis on avoiding the Bludgers, but even the Quaffle could do a fair amount of damage when it hits you with enough force. Most of our games ended with a victory for Gryffindor, but more often than not, a brief trip to the hospital wing before he could join in on the celebrations."

Harry tried to pay attention to most of this, with a fair amount of success, and one detail struck him by surprise. "Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

Sirius chortled. "They are the house of loyalty and hard work, pup."

"Never struck me as particularly fierce competitors, though. Maybe, they mellowed a bit over time?" Harry asked.

"Perhaps," Sirius allowed. He went quiet, then added, "We lost the Cup against them during our six year. By a measly ten points! Never saw your dad so angry in his life. He blamed himself for weeks," Sirius recalled. "Very little we could say or do got him out of his sour mood. We just had to let it pass."

Harry wondered if he was like his dad in that way, too. "Did he end up busted up after that game?"

He could feel Sirius's smile. "Yeah, and he very grudgingly allowed Madam Pomfrey fix him up, but he wouldn't let us touch him. Not even an arm around the shoulder! Said he didn't deserve it, after letting down the whole house."

Harry thought that he would have felt that way as well.

Having reached the bottom of his back, Sirius's hands traveled upwards, and he began to tell Harry about a few particularly eventual Quidditch games he remembered. Harry listened with eagerness as Sirius drew out on some of James's more impressive scores.

"I felt a bit like Dad must have after the match against Gryffindor in my third year," he began, a bit tentatively.

"I remember. Not how you felt, although I could imagine, but what had happened," Sirius recollected, his voice taking on a somber tone. His hands were back on Harry's shoulders. "When I saw you fall, pup, I nearly became human then and there. I wanted, so badly, to run over to you. It was only after I heard them say that you were alive, but unconscious, that logic, and a bit of cowardice, took over and I knew I better run."

"You weren't a coward, Sirius," Harry protested. "Getting caught there would have meant you would have been kissed by the Dementors."

Sirius sighed, now traveling back to just below Harry's shoulders. "All I could think was that you nearly died because I was a bloody prat and couldn't resist the temptation to see you play. Then, when Crookshanks told me about your broom..."

"It wasn't your fault," Harry insisted. "You didn't do anything. It was those horrible Dementors. Even if you had been guilty, which you weren't, they should never have come to the game. Even before we knew the truth, Dumbledore was furious that they had crossed the bounds."

"So I heard." Sirius sighed. "I suppose you found out about everything about the match and your broom after you woke up?"

Harry tried to nod, then stopped. "I thought they'd do a replay, something like that. But Cedric Diggory caught the Snitch before he saw me fall. He was really decent, he'd never have done that if he had seen me. They said he tried to have it not count, but Wood agreed that he'd won fair and square. Then, they showed me the remains of my Nimbus, because it had flown off into the Whomping Willow, and the tree pretty much destroyed it. I wouldn't let them throw out the splinters. Not until after you sent me the Firebolt." Harry had to smile at his foolishness, even though, with his head nearly pressed into a pillow and at the opposite side of Sirius, he couldn't imagine his godfather would see. Moody's magical eye might, maybe. "Wood told me he didn't blame me, and I pestered Remus to teach me how to produce a Patronus, in case the Dementors returned."

"I'd wondered about that, when I saw you produce one when we met. Very advanced magic, pup, well beyond OWL or NEWT level. Remus told me a little later, but I'd love to hear it from you," Sirius requested.

Harry grinned. "All right." He was sure Sirius's hands were getting tired, even though his godfather wouldn't complain. He felt ready to fall asleep, anyway. "Can I sit up, now? Or, rather, lie on my side?"

Sirius chuckled. "All right, as I can see you might fall asleep on me any moment if I continue, and I really fancy hearing this story. However," he added, in a mock threatening voice. "I might subject you to another back massage tomorrow, before you head off to school."

Harry stretched, straightened up, and then planted himself next to Sirius, who placed both arms firmly around Harry. "Ohh, the horror," he teased. "I might never visit again, after that."

Sirius, of course, tousled his hair. "Smart aleck. Go ahead. Tell me about what happened-after I saw the game."

"I first saw the Dementors on the train to school," Harry began, resting his head Sirius's shoulders, "and I heard screaming, and the next thing I knew, Ron and Hermione and Ginny were looking at me, and Remus was handing out chocolate. I had no idea where the screaming had come from, and no one else had heard anything. My friends were all affected by the Dementors, of course, but no one had passed out." He grimaced, remembering, and Sirius held him closer. "Malfoy had a real field day with it."

"Git," Sirius growled, then loosened his hold on Harry to draw the blankets over them.

"I heard the screaming again when I fell at the match," Harry continued, "and it was then that I realized that I was hearing my parents. Their last moments, right before Voldemort had killed them."

Sirius's hold on Harry tightened, and he just lay there, snuggled against his godfather for a few moments, before continuing.

"I knew that I had to figure out how to fight them, because even though we had lost the match, we weren't out of the running for the Cup. If the other houses lost against each other, we'd be back in the tournament. Wood knew that, too, so he trained us harder than ever. No one minded, least of all me. Not because I was punishing myself or anything," Harry added, quickly, "but because I wanted to win as much as he had."

Sirius nodded, chuckling a little. "Just like your dad."

"Since Remus had made the Patronus on the train, I asked him to teach me the charm. He said it was really difficult, but he would give me lessons. Of course," Harry added, "we couldn't exactly bring in a live Dementor, but I'd told him that if I saw a Bogart, it would likely become one, because that's what scared me most. He'd found one recently, and we used that to practice on. It probably wasn't as powerful as the real thing, but it still caused me to pass out, at first." Harry took a breath, then continued. "My parents' last moments before their deaths became clearer and clearer, the more times I encountered the Bogart. I only heard my mum's voice at first, but after a couple of attempts with the Bogart, I began to hear my dad. By the time Remus had taught me to perform a half decent Patronus, I reckoned I had a pretty good idea of everything that happened before they died."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Sirius asked, his voice soft, his arms firm, yet comfortable, against Harry's frame.

Harry nodded. "My dad saw him first. He told my mum to run, that he'd fight him off. He tried to, but then he died. Then, my mum kept begging Voldemort to spare me, and he told her to step aside. He told her to step aside more than once. She wouldn't, Sirius, so he killed her. Then, he set his wand on me, and, well, we all know what happened next."

Sirius didn't say anything, not at first. He just held Harry, and Harry realized that his face was wet. He wiped the tears away, then turned to face his godfather, who had similar tears running down his face.

"I can fight them off pretty well, now. At least, when it's just one," Harry said, trying to smile. "Even if the charm nearly got me expelled when they attacked the summer before last."

Sirius let out a chortle. "You more than saved your cousin's life, pup. For whatever that's worth to him."

"He wasn't as bad, this summer, anyway."

"I wouldn't know."

After another moment, Sirius spoke up again. "That's how it was for me, in Azkaban. I hadn't faced Dementors before then. The longer you're exposed to them, the more potent they get. Memories, bad ones, that you only half recalled-maybe even forgotten entirely-come back in great detail. There's no creature that's the opposite, that we know of. That can bring to mind the good ones. I was there for twelve years, and by the end, I could tell you every childhood punishment, every time I disappointed my parents, every time I disappointed James or Remus, in detail. I still can."

"Hagrid said that after he got out, every good memory came back," Harry recalled. "He said it was like being born all over again."

Sirius made a noncommittal noise. "Might have been, for him. Your mum and dad were still dead, and I knew that Wormtail was still on the loose. I remembered the good stuff, sure, but I didn't let myself focus on it. I had one mission, pup, and that was to kill Wormtail in order to keep you safe."

Harry remembered the night he'd left his aunt and uncle, the night he'd accidentally inflated Aunt Marge. He'd seen Sirius then, however briefly. At the time, he thought he'd been rescued by the Knight Bus, but what would have happened had the bus hadn't come, or had Sirius emerged? All he'd known, then, was that he was a murderer on the muggle news. But he would have known that he was magical, because muggles didn't turn into animals and back at will.

"What d'you suppose would have happened, had we had a chance to talk on that summer night?" Harry asked, softly.

Sirius turned to Harry, smiling. "I'd asked myself that a lot, during that year. During your fifth year, as well. Since you hadn't known everything about me, I reckon you would have given me a chance to explain everything?" At Harry's nod, Sirius continued, "And I'd have tried to ask you about Ron Weasley and his pet rat. Probably would have rambled quite a bit, sounded like a total nutter, but I reckon we would have had everything cleared up by the end of the summer. Your living situation would have changed to how it is now, and Voldemort would have never risen to power."

"There's still Crouch junior," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, but without Wormtail, I don't think he would have gotten very far with helping Voldemort rise to power. No, things would have remained as they had been."

Harry sighed. "Wish that had happened."

"Yeah, me too, pup." Sirius gave him a squeeze. "The good thing is that, you'll only have to see them once more, and then you're stuck with me for the rest of your life."

"Good, I rather fancy being stuck with you," Harry grinned, then hid a yawn.

"Time for bed, then?" Sirius asked, gently. Glancing at the clock, he added, "Even if it is only eight o'clock, it's been a busy day, and I know how hard you're working."

"I'm also feeling very relaxed," Harry pointed out, with a smile. "Yeah, all right. I won't tell Ron and Hermione if you don't."

"Deal," Sirius agreed. "Sweet dreams, pup."

"You too, Sirius."

Curling up close, with his arms around Harry's frame, Sirius turned out the lamp with his wand before laying it on the table. Then, tucking the blankets more securely around both of them, he closed his eyes, and Harry followed suit.

They both slept peacefully that night.

Author's note:

Next up-Harry learns about Katie's condition upon returning to Hogwarts.