That very afternoon, just after they had tucked Harry in for his nap and he was sound asleep, Remus asked Sirius if they could speak in the kitchen.
"Of course," Sirius answered, rising from the couch, and tucking the blankets in more securely around the child.
Once in the kitchen, Remus came straight to the point.
"Harry needs to know about my condition."
Sirius nodded, hardly surprised at this statement. "You're right. Now, you transformed a few days after Harry arrived, so your next one is..."
"July 31st," Remus finished, wincing.
Sirius stared at him. "You're certain?"
"I'm sorry." Remus stared down at his hands. "Truly, I am."
Sirius took his hands in his. "You hardly control the moon cycles, Remus." Now was hardly the time to use his nickname. "All right, then. We'll hold a celebration for Harry afterwards. Or have two. In fact, I like the idea of having two. He's never had a real birthday, not since Lily and James died, and the kid deserves two cakes."
Remus chuckled. "And you wouldn't mind having twice as much cake to eat."
Sirius gave him a sly smile. "At least one of those cakes will be chocolate, so you can hardly talk."
"Very well." Remus' eyes twinkled. "Back to the topic at hand. Since he'll notice my absence, and he'll have to be aware of my lycanthropy for all full moons, we should tell him sooner, as opposed to later."
"Shall we tell him tomorrow?" Sirius asked. "Let's have him have a normal afternoon before revealing that-"
"That I have a furry little problem?" Remus finished, chuckling slightly.
"Yes, that demented rabbit of yours," Sirius snorted. "If you like, I'll be there, and you can tell him? Or, would you prefer we both tell him?"
Remus frowned, clearly thinking it over. "I've never told anyone before, not properly. You and James found out on your own, although you still had questions. I-I might need your assistance, Sirius."
Sirius squeezed his brother's fingers. "I'll help in any way I can, Moony."
"Thank you."
They returned to Harry, then, who was still sleeping peacefully. Sirius ran a hand over the child's hair, as much to brush some stray hairs away from his face as because he loved the feel of it. The softness, the mix of curl and messiness. It even stood up in the back, the way James' had. Of course, Sirius hadn't met James until the train ride to Hogwarts, and hair could change from early childhood to almost puberty. All the same, Sirius thought Harry's face very much resembled his father's.
Lily had suspected that, with the exception of her eyes, Harry would look a great deal more like his father than her. She'd point out the Potter nose, the way the ears looked almost identical, and the dark hair. James and Sirius had thought she was crazy.
"Sure, he has my hair, but almost all babies look alike," James had protested. "He's not going to be the splitting image of me, Lil."
"We'll see," she'd answered, smiling in that way of hers.
Well, Harry was just a couple of weeks away from turning five, and it seemed that she'd been right all along. If the souls of the dead could see the living (and Sirius was fairly sure they could), she was having a real laugh now at having been right. Of course, there were still six years to go before Harry turned eleven, and while Sirius was in no hurry for his puppy to grow up, he would be eager to compare pictures of James at that age with his son.
"What are you thinking about?" Remus asked, quietly, after taking a seat on an oversized, high-backed chair.
Sirius sunk back into the couch. "How right Lily ended up being. Harry really does look like James."
"The hair's what does it," Remus nodded, as Sirius continued to card his hair.
"Poor kid," Sirius laughed. "The Potter hair on men is always uncontrollable. Do you remember his James' father's hair? Before he began using that hair potion he created?"
"I dare say it was even more out of control than James' ever was," Remus smiled. "His mum's wasn't too bad, though."
"No, but she did always wear it back in a braid," Sirius remembered. "Fleamont's was nearly as long, and wild as anything. Not that we would ever say this to him."
"I should think not." Remus' eyes twinkled. "He'd hex you so that your hair would be worse than his for a day."
"Oh, he hardly needed an excuse to pull pranks. Harmless ones, of course," Sirius added. "And he could take as well as give."
"You miss him," Remus observed.
"I do," Sirius answered, softly.
There was no point in denying it. No reason to, either. James' parents had blood adopted him, after all. Had taken him in when he couldn't stand his family's darkness any longer, but even before then, from the first visit, they'd made him feel like a part of their family. And after they had blood adopted him? They were no longer Mr. and Mrs. Potter, but "Mum" and "Dad." Words that he had never used on his own parents, because since as soon as he could speak, they and the house-elves had trained him to say "Mother" and "Father."
It had been the Black way, and the way with most pure-blood families.
But he would never raise Harry in that way. Whatever Harry wanted to call him, be it "Sirius" or "Padfoot" or "Siri" or "Daddy," he would not only allow, but relish.
The following morning, Sirius rose before Harry. There had been no nightmares the previous evening, which he was grateful for. Nightmares were hardly a daily occurrence, but they were not entirely unexpected. Of course, Sirius knew that Harry had only been living with them for a little over two weeks, and this could change over the months, even years, that followed. There was so much that Harry didn't know, yet, and they would have to keep from him until he was ready.
He hoped, as he gazed lovingly at the sleeping child tucked into his side, his own arms still wrapped around Harry's under the covers, that he would not have nightmares about Remus.
It was unlikely, he believed. Children were raised to fear werewolves, and there was a place for that fear. Many werewolves had been bitten as adults, and had lost their livelihood upon becoming one. Umbridge's new laws about registration had a great deal to do with this, but most employers would dismiss a witch or wizard who was absent for as much as a week out of every month. As a result, they lived in packs, and when they transformed, they were not themselves. If the Ministry would simply provide access to the Wolfsbane Potion for free to all werewolves, the problem would be mostly eliminated-but the Ministry operated more from fear than practicality.
Then, of course, there was Fenrir Greyback, who was the living embodiment of every child and adult's fears. He would not take the Wolfsbane, even if he was given money to take it. And, Sirius knew, he had his followers.
Harry stirred, now, and Sirius forced his thoughts to happier topics. It would do Harry no good to see him stewing.
"Good morning, little puppy," he murmured, wrapping the child into a tighter hug.
Harry giggled, and snuggled closer. "Morning, Sirius," he mumbled, his voice muffled from his head being covered by Sirius' night shirt.
Sirius let go of one arm, allowing Harry considerably more freedom of mobility, and began to card his hair, which resulted in a happy, contented sigh.
"Feel good?" Sirius asked, smiling down at Harry, who had closed his eyes and had a smile on his face.
"Mmm," was the response.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, still continuing the ministration.
"Mmm," Harry answered.
"Do you want pancakes for breakfast?"
Harry's eyes opened wide, and he wriggled out of Sirius' arms. "Yes!" Then, quickly, he added, "I-I mean, yes, please."
"I know you meant the 'please,' but thank you for saying it," Sirius reassured him. "All right, then, we'll have pancakes. Plain, or blueberry, or both?"
"Both?" Harry asked, sounding hopeful.
"Both it is!"
Sirius scooped him up and placed him down from the bed, even though Harry could manage the jump on his own. After donning their dressing gowns, they walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Sirius was a bit surprised that Remus was not already up, but he expected that the smell of pancakes would rouse him soon enough.
"Uncle Remus isn't here," Harry noted. "Should we wait for him?"
"He'll be down once we smells the pancakes," Sirius reassured him. "And if he's not, I can make extra for him."
Satisfied with this answer, Harry took a seat, ready to watch as his godfather performed his magic. Sirius could, of course, cook them the muggle way, but seeing Harry's delight at the cooking utensils act on their own was enough to make him use magic.
Besides, it was faster this way.
"Will I ever be able to do that?" Harry asked, watching as the pancakes flipped from the cooked side to the uncooked side.
Sirius thought for a bit. "I'm using wordless magic, and you typically learn that in your sixth year of study. I started in my fifth year, because I was bored of studying for the OWLs and wanted to learn something new. Your dad and I and Uncle Remus all became quite good at it before the end of the year."
"Why did you have to study owls?" Harry wondered, brow furrowed.
Sirius chuckled. "Not owls, pup, OWLs. Ordinary Wizarding Levels. They're tests that every witch or wizard takes in Great Britain, at the end of their fifth year. Even if you don't go away to school," he added, emphasizing the "away" part, "the examiners will come to your house and test you, to make sure you really understand your magic. You find out the next month how you did."
"Oh."
Harry didn't seem particularly interested in the test, and Sirius could hardly blame him. After all, he was still very new to the Wizarding World, and he hadn't done any accidental magic, as far as Sirius knew. Not that this was any cause for concern. He wasn't even five, and most kids didn't have any accidental magic until then.
Before Sirius could think too much about school, he heard Remus enter the room.
"I had a dream about pancakes, and when I woke up, I was sure I could smell them!" he said, cheerfully.
"Uncle Remus!" Harry exclaimed, jumping out of his chair and running to give him a hug.
Chuckling, Remus scooped him up and gave him a hug. "Good morning, Harry!"
"Good morning! We're having blueberry pancakes, and regular pancakes!" he told his uncle.
Still holding Harry, Remus turned to Sirius. "Any chance of chocolate chip pancakes?"
Sirius put his hands on his hips in a mock stern manner. "For breakfast, Remus?"
"Please?" Harry asked.
Sirius let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. "If you can find the chocolate chips, I'll add them in."
"Thank you, Padfoot," Remus smiled, and winked at Harry.
Author's note:
I was planning to include the werewolf conversation in this chapter, but it's already quite long, so it will have to wait until the next one.
Maybe, it's a bit out of character for Remus to ask for chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast...he IS a chocoholic, though. And I kind of like the twist of him asking for semi-unhealthy food for him and Harry.
Next up:
Harry learns about werewolves.
As always, constructive feedback is most appreciated!