helllooooooo
arent we all glad it's not 3 months this time hehe
this one's another behemoth (truly, i should stop. it sets a difficult precedent for me lol) but i am so ! to present this chapter. it went entirely off course lmao. this was originally supposed to be the trial and perhaps some plot after that, but molly rly wanted to make her presence known and well. who am i to say no? i had ridiculous amounts of fun writing this chapter and i hope that comes thru for yall as well. sirius is, well, he's mean and unforgiving and so protective it makes my heart hurt in the best way possible. harry is, ofc, the best kid ever. once again, the dichotomy of too mature and too childish comes thru but i hope it's as purposeful as i intend it to be rather than just a fumbling attempt haha james n lily are main characters for atleast a half of this and truly, everyone's one big mess. it's lovely.
anyway, i'll shut up now since u know i'll be rambling in the end notes anyway. as always this is barely edited but i hope u have as much fun w this as i did 33
"Sirius."
Despite knowing this would be coming, he still winced at the sound of his name being called out. A whip, wielded across the air to strike him just as he'd let his guard down; in this case, rising to leave the dining room.
"Yes, Molly?" He didn't turn back, couldn't trust his face to not betray his thoughts in the moment, though it had barely begun.
"I couldn't help but notice…"
Sirius' shoulders had, over the course of this conversation, begun to creep up to somewhere close to his ears. It was not just a desire to protect himself, to hide, as he had done for so many years from sources of hostility-though much more vicious-but also, rather, a way to contain the agitation building in him.
He'd noticed that his magic was…unstable, for lack of a better word, after Azkaban. Volatile, temperamental, uncontrollable. Sirius had always prided himself on his magicalcontrol so it was more than a little disconcerting to be on this side of things, where his magic acted out like an ill-mannered child instead of working like the carefully honed weapon he'd fashioned it to be. It lashed out more often than it stayed in, these days.
When he thinks about it, on the days he's not crushed under boulders of grief for all he lost, it makes sense. Magic is part of a Wixen body, flows through it, giving it life, the way air and water and sunlight meander through nature. To stop either is an aberration, a wrong.
Sirius was unable to use his magic for over twelve years. Most Wixen wouldn't be able to survive five.
The passive nature of turning into his Grim barely counted for anything-if anything, it might've saved his sanity by forsaking his body. The transformation took precious energy he already had very little of, after all.
What happens to magic, then, when it's been obstructed, blocked, stopped?
Grimmauld Place's rattling windows were a good example, at any time. He was a walking hazard, and it spoke to the quality of education Hogwarts had been giving out so far that no one around him had recognised that fact. Perhaps they would be more wary of him, more hesitant about antagonizing him, if they had.
Molly, unfortunately, didn't get the hint.
"Harry hasn't…He's been different this summer."
Sirius kept his voice even, controlled. "I imagine being attacked by Dementors in a place you're supposed to be safe has that effect on a child."
"A child…yes…" Molly's lip curled up in an uncharacteristic sneer. "He is a child, isn't he?"
"He's fifteen, of course he is," he said, confusion coloring his tone. Did she expect him to disagree, or argue otherwise?
"It seems like you've forgotten that fact, then, Sirius." He finally turned around, deciding this wasn't going to be a short 'n sweet conversation like he'd been expecting, hoping. Besides, accusations like that needed eye contact, nothing less would do. He's, perhaps, only a little taken aback at how confrontational Molly looked. Her shoulders are pushed back in a stiff, uncomfortable, position; arms crossed over her chest; and a defiant, pinched look on her face.
"I beg your pardon." His words are slow, measured. Not a question at all. A part of Sirius hates that he defaults to his upbringing in times like this. He'd tried, many many times before…everything, to be less like a Black. He'd tried emulating some of those hotheads that passed through Hogwarts every year, throwing out curses and foul language, using his fists to express his anger.
But it never worked out, did it? Not even when James had painstakingly sat him down and explained the intricacies of 'losing your mind in a fit of passionate rage' Sirius had never been able to force his body into cooperation. He just wasn't wired that way. It was all cold smiles and dead eyes and sharp words with him, temperamental magic whipping around him, sending spikes down everyone's backs. Always civilised, in control, as his Mother had drilled into him.
It's visible now, as well. In the way he forcibly unclenched his hands, straightened his fingers into an easy hold, looked straight at Molly with a neutral expression.
She wasn't familiar enough with him to recognise it. No one here was, really, no matter how much they claimed to know him.
"The way you treat him…It certainly doesn't seem like you think of him as a child." In another word, another situation, perhaps Sirius could appreciate the stubbornness, the doubling down. Not now, though.
"Well," he said, cheeks lifting in an insincere, bland smile, "I'll take that under consideration, but I'm sure I can manage myself around Harry without your input, Molly."
"That's the thing, isn't it. I'm not so sure you could," she threw back without hesitation. Her own cheeks were steadily reddening-probably because of his attitude; he'd been told his irreverence was infuriating more times than he could count-and her hair was frizzing out of its bun. "You're reckless, Sirius-rushing into things without a single thought behind it, always gallivanting off for the next bit of adventure. Kids don't-they need stability. A guardian they can count on."
A slow trickle of heat climbed up his spine at her words. Spreading across his back, over his ribs, up his throat. Sirius bit down on the viciousness coating his tongue, pitching to spew all over the woman in front of him. The sheer audacity-
He took a shallow breath, keeping it within for three seconds before releasing it slowly, hoping some of the rage flowed out with it. Unfortunately, she was still talking.
"-and acting like he's another Order member, telling him everything willy-nilly, is both negligent and downright harmful-"
"Molly," he said tightly. "I realise the circumstances you met me in were not…the most ideal, not now and not twenty years ago. But I fail to see how that makes you an expert on my temperament." Like a bloody governess, Remus had once grouched about his speech when he was ticked off, or just a rich old tosser. "We've barely held a proper conversation since my escape from Azkaban-you truly don't know anything about me."
"Oh, don't kid yourself, you've never been ideal, Sirius Black," she hissed, moving forward to jab a finger into his chest. "Always running about, irresponsible and arrogant. You're not much different now, you know? Don't you think we don't know who was behind all the nastiness of your little group?"
And that, really, was too much. It's one thing to accuse him of…whatever she was accusing him of. But pretending as if she'd held these opinions, unchanged, for all these years was just laughable. Molly might pretend to be all 'oh poor James and Lily' this and 'what wonderful people they were, really a great tragedy' that but Sirius was there before. He'd seen how Molly Weasley, older than all of them by well over a decade, had disapproved of them; had heard the snide comments covered under the guise of concern; felt the dislike wafting off her in waves.
It wasn't just Sirius she'd had a low opinion of. Neither Lily nor James were held in high esteem by her; it had only gotten marginally better when they'd had Harry. But she'd never been quite about her impression of them as frivolous, immodest, immature liabilities to the war effort and he'd be damned if he let her forget that.
Especially not while puttering around claiming to hold Harry's best interests at heart.
Because it was like this, right. Sirius wasn't sure of his place in the world anymore-hasn't been ever since James was killed and it seemed like the rug was pulled out under him, leaving him in a constant state of disorientation. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he didn't know how to exist, still, without his best mate, despite knowing how such a thing sounded. What he was sure of, however, was his ability to care for Harry.
If James was the other half of his soul, then Harry was the North Star around which he oriented his entire existence. One tiny fist wrapping around his little finger fifteen years ago was monumental enough that he could still feel the phantom imprints on his heart. Saying that it was his godson who got him through Azkaban not just alive, but with his sanity intact, was an understatement.
So, yes, it rankled when his relationship, his responsibility towards Harry is brought into question.
"You're walking a thin line," he said quietly, still unwilling to say what he really wanted to. It might be futile hope but he was looking forward to ending this as quickly as possible, having no wish to get into a screaming match at this time of the day. "I'd suggest not talking about things that do not concern you, let alone something you know nothing about."
"You-"
"I appreciate that you care for my godson," he cut in, stressing the operative relation, "and how you took him in without a second thought. Truly, your consideration means a lot, not just to him, but to me as well. But regardless of how you feel about it, I am his godfather, with all the duties entailed under it. I know very well how to love my charge."
And that's what it all came down to, isn't it. Sirius could see all the cracks within Harry, no matter how new the two of them are at this thing. As much as it broke his heart to think it, there's something awfully familiar about them-after all, he could still trace them in the mirror every morning. If he looked deep enough, he could still sense James' magic woven into the jagged bits of his insides, keeping him whole. Alive. . He could only hope to do something similar for Harry.
So yes, he knew, without a doubt, that he was the only one who could give Harry what he needed right now. Everything else was inconsequential, they would resolve itself but this unconditional love? Definitely not in Molly Weasley's purview, not when she was already stretched thin and unwilling to look past her own trauma.
Molly stared at him, silence stretching thin between them as the words registered in her. Her left eye twitched, just a little, and before she even opened her mouth, Sirius could see the words solidifying in her eyes. She won't back down so easily. He braced himself, physically squaring his shoulders, just in time for the venomous words to wash over him.
"What would you know about love, anyway?" she scoffed, leaning into his space once again. "You're still pining away after a dead man, Sirius Black, and now you're replacing that memory with his poor child. You wonder why I'm concerned? Take a hard look at yourself and you'll find the answer."
The heat turned ice cold in an instant. A balloon pop in the distance-his control, he thinks distantly-leaving a only terrifying void behind. Without a single word, Sirius crossed the little distance between them, straightening to his full height so he was towering well over a foot above her frame.
"You have no Merlin-damned right to mention James." His voice was no higher than a whisper but it was enough. "Especially not when you're questioning his judgement in the first place. It's not on you to decide anything about Harry-"
"I took care of that boy," she tried, voice quivering in outrage but he wasn't going to let her finish.
"And yet you're neither his mother nor his father. Most certainly not a guardian of any kind." Behind them, the windows rattled louder than they ever had before. That really should've been the first sign for these bunch of incompetent buffoons masquerading as a resistance group. What a joke. "You might not remember it, since it's been a bit, but you made it quite clear how much you disapproved of James' and Lily's parenting back then. To swoop in now, when they're not here to say anything, trying to impose your own is positively vile."
Molly's face drained of all color at his words, the truth of it slicing through her self-important bluster quite easily as he continued ruthlessly, "He's not your child, no matter how hard you try and make it so."
Distantly, he can hear the sound of the door opening, footfall in the corridors, and curious heads peeking into the room. He paid it no mind, focused on the fact that Molly still hadn't given up, seeing as her mouth was open once again.
"Well, who else has he-?"
"I'd thank you not to finish that sentence," he said, voice trembling. It might seem like hurt, or even suppressed tears, but it's pure unadulterated rage. Sirius was possessive of his family, the people he's chosen as his, and this was no different. Padfoot had been growling in the back of his mind since this conversation-no, confrontation-began. He'd been pacing and moving around restlessly, wanting out, from the moment Molly questioned his behaviour around their child. Perhaps she doesn't realise, not many do, how animalistic a wizard truly becomes after completing the animagus transformation. Sirius doesn't know if he could identify where he ends and Padfoot begins, and currently it does not matter, because the Grim wants out.
He made the decision, then. A wave of his shaking hand and the windows stop, pitching the room into unsettling silence broken only by the sound of his shallow breaths and Molly's singed magic. He could feel it retreating within itself, perhaps finally recognising the predator in the room. It spoke to how out of touch most wixen were with their magic these days, that they don't even recognise the signs. Don't listen to their own intuition.
"I've had quite enough of listening to this." He turned towards the small audience they'd gathered-Order members along with the unsurprising inclusion of the younger ones. He barely held in a wince at seeing Harry's troubled face among the crowd. He'd have to deal with that too, before the day is out. It wouldn't do to have Molly's thoughtless words rattling around in his godson's brain.
"Let me set this straight, though I have no obligation, or really, desire, to." Tonks, McGonagall, Arthur, Remus, Kingsley-standing in a tense formation around the open door. All with varying degrees of apprehension and tension lining their face. "First, nothing you, or anyone here, believe will change the fact that I'm Harry's godfather and in that sense, responsible for him and his wellbeing. His parents himself bestowed the honor on me, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"Two," he snapped his fingers and the house's magic crackled in the air, lighting up silver and black for a brief second, "Seems like you're forgetting whose house you're currently in. I might not be able to do a lot, but I still control the wards in this place. And if I wanted to throw you sorry lot out and allow only Harry in here? I can do it before you can get your wands out." These words, predictably, elicit a cacophonous reaction. Gasps and protests and grumbles, all overlapping, none comprehensible but the indignation in the air was quite clear.
"I said I can, not that I will. Get a hold of yourselves, for Godric's sake" he muttered in disgust before raising his voice. "Three, 'who else has he got'; that's what you were about to say, weren't you, Molly? Well, it seems like at this moment, I'm the only one who cares about him."
"Now, Sirius, that's not fair," Arthur tried to defend his wife but he had overestimated Sirius' patience.
"Oh, it isn't?" He smiled mockingly, eyes widening in faux-shock. "Here I was, thinking what wasn't fair was your wife accusing me of, what was it again, lusting after my own godson?" Gasps of shock and affront ring around the room. He knew he was being facetious in his interpretation of her words, that she probably hadn't meant it that way but if he was going in, then he was doing so all the way. Let them deal with the consequences of their words for once. "No? Perhaps it was when she claimed he didn't have anyone besides her in this world. Or, I guess it was the moment she dared to question James and Lily's choices. You can take your pick, Arthur."
"Tha-That's not what I-Arthur, I didn't-," Molly stuttered, one hand clenched in the front of her shirt, as if grounding herself against the force of his accusations.
He sneered. "Then you shouldn't have said it, should you? You're not a child, Molly, and your words have weight. Accusing me of replacing my best mate with his son is, quite frankly, an offensive insinuation."
"Besides," and here, his voice softened, eyes shifting to Harry with a warmth that had been absent so far. "I didn't see you in the waiting room for the twelve hours of Lily's labor. Nor holding Harry after he was born. You've never had his gummy little smile directed at you, have you? Remember his first birthday, perhaps? His acrobatics on a baby broom? No? I didn't think so."
"I think you've made your point, Sirius." Remus' quiet voice interrupted him before he could recount the entirety of Harry's childhood. A task he had no problem in carrying out, if not to remove their rose-tinted glasses, then because the steadily reddening blush on Harry's face-embarrassment, not hurt or anger thankfully-was quite adorable. "Molly understands where you're coming from."
Sirius was torn between scoffing in disbelief at the statement or pinning Remus to the floor for his high-handed observation. Eventually, he chose to stop beating a dead horse and go with the latter. He stared at Remus, one eyebrow slightly pitched, gaze steady and even. He knew his intent was clear for his old friend. Sure enough, a wave of understanding passed between the two of them. It wasn't…the pleasant kind, neither amicable nor positive. Sirius didn't appreciate Remus' timing nor his stance, and Remus understood his misstep. They'd have to talk, eventually, about so much more than this, but now was not the time for it.
One day, sometime in the future, they'd have to dig up the shallow graves and reckon with the skeletons lying within. Today, however, he'd grant Remus the consideration of taking his words at face value.
"I certainly hope she does," he said, instead, finally turning to look at Molly. "I'd hate to do this again. It doesn't befit someone of our age." Molly nodded in shaky understanding.
It wasn't over, Sirius knew. He wasn't blind; she was only saying what everyone else thought. In a sense, he could admire her ability to come out and say it, instead of whispering after he'd left the room like he knew others did. And this…conversation, calling it productive would be a stretch. It was more of an opportunity to expel deeply instilled nastiness, to throw barbs, hurt each other. Sirius didn't doubt Molly's affection for Harry-that was never in question-but he would be damned before he stood by and let her get his boy killed with her parochial attitude.
So they would probably be in this position again, perhaps kinder, definitely calmer. And maybe then, Molly's mind could actually be changed-for it surely wasn't now, judging by the look on her face-and they could move beyond this tiresome argument to things that actually mattered.
In the meantime, however, he had a godson to comfort. He feigned a smile at the assorted gathering before moving over to his child, placing a hand on his bony shoulder.
"Care for a cup of cocoa, Harry?" He knew it was understood that the invitation went beyond a warm drink. At Harry's nod, he was finally able to smile properly, sincerely, for the first time that day.
"I am…sorry you had to witness that." His hands were curled around the mug, delicious chocolate-flavored steam wafting through the layer of melted marshmallows. He considered his next words carefully. "In fact, I wish it didn't have to happen at all."
"So why did it?" The words contained no censure, only curiosity, and it warmed him much better than any cocoa ever could.
"Molly is-an opinionated woman. A fair trait to have, to be sure. It's important to stick by your words in this climate. But, one danger of being so is you start to ignore anything that doesn't fit in your worldview. For her, that includes a nicely civilised society where children could be bundled up in cotton wool and kept away from the realities of life." He smiled, then, a little bitter, a lot sad. "I, unfortunately, didn't get that luxury of belief."
He could see Harry waiting for him patiently, not pushing, not fidgeting. Just sitting there, steady as a rock. For a moment, Sirius was struck by how similar he looked to his grandfather, Fleamont Potter, a man Harry had never met but who'd left a lasting impression on Sirius as the gentlest, most reliable man he'd ever known. In that second, it felt like he was coming back home.
He pushed the thought away as quick as it came. No need to dwell on ghosts. Harry had enough pressure on his young shoulders as it is. "Now I'm not saying Molly doesn't have reasons for why she thinks the way she does. She was uncomfortably close to the first war-I cannot imagine how it must be to have so many young children while living in constant fear of surviving to the next day. We had just you and were positively losing our minds." He swiped a hand over Harry's messy hair to take away the sting of the words. It was better than revealing to him the true depth of their terror, that debilitating, paralysing thing that crawled into every crevice of their body and refused to leave from the moment they knew of their little Prongslet's existence.
"And then, as if that wasn't enough, Molly…lost her brothers in an Auror raid." Head bowed, Sirius spared a moment for Fabian and Gideon Weasley, the stone-faced, protective forces that carried half of the Order on their backs. Their deaths weren't in vain-they'd taken out a whole warehouse of Death Eaters after successfully rescuing the muggleborn hostages-but utility had never made grief easier. "You lose a part of yourself, when something like that happens. Trust me, I'd know."
Sirius suspected that the ironic half-smile he was going for was thwarted by the trembling of his lips, the lines around his eyes. A hand covering his over the mug startled him, bringing his attention back to his godson, who was looking at him intently, eyes warmed over with concern.
"I'm okay, love," he answered the unspoken question. "Thank you."
Harry nodded, chewing on the corner of his lip, a clear Potter tell that he wanted to say something but unsure how. Sirius' nudged his knee under the table with his own, a silent prompt.
"I…didn't like how she talked to you." It was a remarkably childish sentiment, coming from Harry, said with the most serious intent, and he wondered, again, at Harry's behaviour. "She had-no right, to say all that to you, and I just-I don't know how to feel, Sirius."
"Anything you feel is understandable, really. Anger, hurt, annoyance, hell, even if you agree with her on some parts, it's okay." Of course, Sirius would hope that he's proven himself beyond that kind of doubt so far, but that didn't mean he would begrudge Harry anything.
The horror-filled gasp he received in return certainly put a pin in that line of thought, though. Harry could only splutter in response. "I-You-How could you even-I would never-Sirius!"
"It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility, you know. I've been incredibly thoughtless and hurt you-"
A hand slammed onto the table between them, once again startling him into silence. "I'd thank you not to finish that sentence." The words are slow, deliberate, and Harry's gaze was boring into him, daring him to continue.
"Was all of that, in there with Mrs. Weasley, just for my benefit then? Or, maybe, to convince everyone of some nefarious plot you've brewed up? How can you defend yourself so well just a few minutes ago and then sit here and think-think that I could-," the words trailed away, but the meaning lingered behind.
Sirius bowed his head, chagrined, apologetic.
"I'm pissed because you didn't deserve that. Not because I—because you've failed me somehow. Christ."
There was silence between them for a few seconds after that, letting the words sink in. It gave him the time to formulate his next words, knowing it was important to talk about this but unsure how.
"About…about what she said," he started hesitantly, taking a generous sip of the cocoa. Harry's hand had dropped back onto the table and he almost missed its comforting warmth.
"Which part of it?" Harry scoffed.
Sirius sent a half-assed glare in his direction. "The—the James thing. Replacing…him and all that." He winced at how that came out, hadn't meant for it to sound so callous but nothing to be done for it now.
He could see Harry cringe in response, a little surprised at the action. "No-uh-we don't need to—I don't think you're doing anything like that, please can we not—?"
Sirius was confused for only a moment before he remembered his insinuations and had to fight to keep the embarrassed flush off his cheeks. "Ah. No. Not—not like that. I'm. Sorry for that as well."
"Then what—?"
"Just, in general, I've never thought of you as a stand-in for James, ever." Sirius' voice was fierce, because he needed this to get through to Harry, even if nothing else did.
"I-that's alright, Sirius, I never thought so."
"Still, I thought that perhaps, we might have to talk about it." No matter how much he didn't want to. "Molly's not the only one who thinks so. I imagine you'll be hearing it quite a bit, and I don't ever want you to doubt my love for you."
Harry's ears instantly colored red at his words and his shoulders rose in a defensive motion. "Bit hard to do that when you go around yelling it out loud for everyone and their nan to hear."
Sirius only had time to quirk a brow before Harry's eyes shot up in panicked horror. "Fuc-Shit-no, I didn't mean that, god, I'm so sorry, Sirius."
Perhaps he should be hurt, or maybe even a bit offended that his feelings are considered a performance? But in that moment Sirius could only feel intense fondness for his kid, who was now apparently comfortable enough to snark back at him. They could work on the immediate backpedalling later, of course, but that Harry had been showing more and more of himself lately would never fail to fill him with pride.
"You're good, Prongslet, but only because I'm impressed at how fast you came up with that." He waggled a threatening finger in his direction. "Next time, I wouldn't be so merciful." Harry could only flap a careless hand at him.
It was only later, well after the adrenaline had died down and a pleasant silence had fallen over them that Harry brought it up again.
"So, you and Dad never—?"
Sirius blinked in surprise.
"That is, I mean to say, you know," Harry fumbled over his words. Perhaps in another situation it would've been quite amusing but he was asking if…James and him had…what exactly?
"You were never…together? Like that?" His face was bright red by now, some of the flush creeping down his neck towards the collar of his round neck. Sirius pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing out or, worse, cooing at him. No doubt it would only embarrass him further.
"Er-no, well, that is to say-not officially, no."
"You were hooking up with each other?" Harry's voice was pitched high in horror, eyes wide as galleons behind his frames. It was Sirius' turn to redden now, not at all comfortable with the implications of his wording. "Did Mum know?"
"Did Lily-," Sirius spluttered. "Of course she-wait. You don't think we carried on after…" James got married, he'd meant to say, but his voice had trailed off before he could.
His godson's ducked head combined with the furiously spreading flush only confirmed his guilt. Sirius moaned in despair, overdoing it just a bit to cut through the awkwardness. "Harry, baby, no. We never-It wasn't like that."
"Well, I wouldn't know, would I," Harry said stubbornly, face still tucked into his elbows but voice defiant. "It's always 'James and Sirius' this and 'never see one without the other' that and 'oh, never separated a day in their life, have they?'. What's a guy supposed to think?"
"Certainly not that," Sirius replied, prim and proper, lips pursed like an immaculate Society lady. Although…he could see how one would reach that conclusion-for sure, many had, over the years and hadn't entirely been wrong either-and it was that chink in the armor which lowered his nose from its horrifyingly high perch.
It was only a few seconds passed before he let out a loud, undignified snort, the sheer absurdity of the moment catching up with him. Merlin wept, him and James as fuck-buddies. What a thought. He could see Harry peeking at him from the corner of his eye, holding out remarkably long, before he dissolved into giggles himself.
"Godric and Salazar, Harry, you sure know how to bring a man to his knees, don't you?" he said, finally, when their laughter had died down. "What a pair we are."
His only response was a self-satisfied shrug. Sirius shifted closer, knees pressed together once more, deciding now was as good a time as any to answer the query that had started this all. And clear up a few things in the process, as well.
"James and I…I think it would be less cheesy to say that we were soulmates, instead of trying to explain all that it entailed. From the moment we met, I knew this speccy git would be in my life forever. That," he smiled sadly, "didn't exactly work out but the sentiment remains."
"I know you were joking when you said it but…I'm sure that's what most people thought of us. It must've been a baffling sight, to be sure. Your father was vocal in his appreciation of Lily in the last year, never ashamed of himself or his feelings. At the same time, we were…what we were. Had been for years. And the entire castle knew that. Again, your father never hid things."
Again, he could see Harry chewing on his lip and sighed fondly. "Out with it, kiddo. You know the drill-if I'm not comfortable, I'll let you know, but you must ask first."
"I just don't want to…say something wrong. Or weird." He wouldn't meet Sirius' eyes as he said it.
"That's sorted, then. It's impossible for you to do that. Like I said, I'll tell you." A second, two, before a slow nod came his way.
"What…were you two, then? If not…lovers. And how did Mum-?"
Sirius took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to answer that. He decided to go with the second question first, for it was much easier than trying to make sense of his relationship with James. He'd never been able to put it in words, it just wasn't possible, but he had to try. For his godson.
"Lily, well. When she started going out with James, towards the end of sixth year, she knew what she was in for. Well, not entirely," he amended, remembering that time over the holidays when James had broken it off with her for a month and stoically lived with the pain of it. Just for Sirius.
"There was a time, before our final year began, when she…hm, how do I put this, she got insecure, Harry," he looked seriously at his charge, at the child of the two people he was talking about, desperate to get this right because he had one chance. He couldn't mess up, couldn't give the wrong impression about either of his parents. "And it was really quite understandable, anyone would have. It was a credit to your mum that she held out as long as she did, really. Most people who tried to be with your father or I gave up a few weeks in. The fantasy, after all, is always better than reality."
It had never really bothered him, his lack of a solid love life. He had James-what else could he ever need, want, in his life? It sounded utterly insane when he put it like that, and perhaps it (he) was, but he'd never been normal a day in his life when it came to James Potter. What was the use in pretending it wasn't so?
"And your mum-keep in mind she was feeling hurt and neglected, and Lily had a sharp temper at the best of times. No control over her tongue, really. She, well, she'd come over for a couple days over to James' and it was going great. Effie and Flea loved her, James was having the time of his life with his entire family under one roof and in his sight, and I was, as always, just happy to be there. But then, the day she was to leave, something…happened. I never found out the whole thing; James refused and I think Lily was too ashamed, later, to tell me."
"Why did Dad refuse?" Harry was leaning forward, interested, hooked, desperate for any bit of information about his parents. Even though they'd talked about them before, it was clear that it wasn't enough, probably never would be. He was like a sponge, soaking every bit of information he came across.
Sirius had a small, sad smile on his face as he remembered that time. "He said it was because it was a private matter, irrelevant, but I think it went deeper than that. He was protecting both Lily and me. Lily, he didn't want to embarrass her-somehow he knew that she'd come to regret it, though it certainly didn't seem like it at the time. And as for me, I suspect she'd said some…pretty ugly things and he didn't want to hurt me by repeating them. Beyond that, he was also trying to not burn bridges between the two of us."
Harry's mouth dropped open, eyes blinking rapidly. Sirius waited for him to work it out in his head, having an idea of where this would go. Sure enough, "And he kept…all of that with him? Didn't talk to either of you about it? Did you never find out what it was Mum said? Not even a little bit?"
"I-made an educated guess." Sirius shrugged, though it was jerky and far from the smooth nonchalance he was aiming for.
"...and?"
He held out for a few more seconds against the expectant silence before giving in with a sigh that sounded more like a popped balloon. "I expect it was something along the lines of how unnaturally close your dad and I were, and how I'd never be able to give him what he needed. Lily and I didn't get on very well in the beginning, and I suspect this was a way for her to get rid of some pent up frustration."
"She wouldn't be entirely wrong, either, you know," he smiled wryly. "I couldn't give your father what he needed. James had-such a huge capacity for love, Harry, and I wasn't enough. It's why Lily ultimately came back, armed with a massive apology and all. Once you got to know what it was like, it was very hard to stay away from James' affection. Nothing made you feel quite as exhilarated as being on the other end of him."
"But…I still don't…" He could tell Harry was confused, and why shouldn't he be? Sirius was doing a terrible job of this, starting from the arse-end and going off on tangents that made no sense. Their three-way relationship was misunderstood even by people who saw them together; of course Harry would be hard pressed to make sense of it.
Sirius exhaled slowly, placing the now-empty mug on the other side of the table so he could take Harry's free hand in both of his. He kept his gaze locked on their fingers, his thumbs rubbing circles into his palm, a grounding technique, as he spoke. "Your father and I were…closer than most friends. I assume you would have already gathered that, if not from others' words, then from our conversations."
Harry hummed in response. Thankfully, he didn't pull his hand back, only scooted forward so Sirius didn't have to bend quite so much.
"I've never been able to figure out why, not that I was much inclined to, mind. All I knew was that James was a part of my life as surely as my magic was." A sharp intake of breath. Sirius smiled knowingly; the weight of his words was not lost on him. For any wixen to say that was a big thing, but for Sirius-who was steeped in ancient Magic in a way that was impossible for anyone to miss-well, it said quite a lot.
"It seemed like the natural conclusion, then, to just…be closer. Hook up, as you so gracefully put it," he couldn't help tease the boy a little, laughing a little at the weak 'Sirius!' he groaned in protest. "It wasn't conventional the way relationships are; James and I were already beyond most friendships. It just-was."
He paused then, picturing their sixth year. The year that changed things, though not for the worse, as he had initially feared. Lily had gotten out of her head and realised things weren't as she'd been imagining-Snape wasn't actually the good guy in green-and-silver disguise and her place in Gryffindor was more precarious than she could've predicted. It had taken James intervening for the hostility to calm down, and even then, it took far longer than it should've for reality to sink in.
James had been gone the entire night; the next morning, Lily had eyebags the size of the Great Lake and her hair was in a ratty bun, but she'd looked lighter than ever before. James didn't speak of what had happened but then, there was no need to. Sirius had understood well enough. He only squeezed James' hand in acceptance.
That day, he'd gone to the Forbidden Forest and created a crater deep enough to permanently scorch the Earth. Then he'd prepared himself to share James with another person.
It wasn't easy, and Sirius could admit he'd probably made things harder in those first few weeks. He was not only jealous but hurt, and he'd decided to make it everyone's problem. James was the only one who'd put up with him, soothing his ruffled feathers and sharp edges with gentle smiles and soft touches. With infinite understanding. As he always had, James had allowed Sirius to just be, with nary a demand for him to change. And as it always was, that was the catalyst for Sirius to do better, be better. How could he begrudge James anything, even if it was another person to love?
By Merlin's sake, he would teach himself to love Lily Evans as well, if that's what it took.
It came to a head during that last day of the holidays. Sirius had never seen James so angry, definitely not at his Lily-flower. No, what made it worse wasn't that James was angry-it was that he was distraught.
He'd barely just suppressed the urge to Apparate to the Evans home and force Lily to make this right-only James' fingers tightening in his shirt kept him rooted where he was. For the rest of the week, he'd held James, wrapped him tightly in his arms and pressed worthless promises into his skin. It wasn't enough, because Sirius never was, but James lost the anger a day in, and the hurt three days after that. By the time they went back to Hogwarts, he was left with a simmering tension present under his skin, abated only when Sirius' hands were on him.
For a month, he ignored Lily. For a month, Lily tried to ignore him, though Sirius could see she didn't succeed nearly as well. Rumors spread like wildfire-it was Hogwarts, of course they did-and he could see them wearing thin on them both.
Finally, he did what he'd promised himself he would never-he interfered.
First Lily, who'd spat trembling curses at him, then James, who'd been fierce in his defence of Sirius-though he hadn't asked. It was easy, then, to put the pieces together. Easy, to identify himself in the center of it all. It was only a wonder it had taken him so long.
It had taken another week, several machinations, and an incredibly manipulative plan from Remus, but he was finally able to get the three of them in one room. It wasn't easy, not for Lily, nor James, and definitely not Sirius, but they had to work through it. Sirius wouldn't allow any less-there was only so much leeway he was prepared to allow Lily, only so much pain he could stand seeing James in.
They walked out with a fresh understanding, all three of them. Tears and screams and negotiations, but stronger for it.
"Sirius?" A poke to his side reminded him that he'd gotten lost in his memories yet again. He sent an apologetic smile towards his godson.
"Sorry, I was-," he shook his head, as if to clear it, before sitting up straight. "Anyway. They had a…little spat. I had to make an appearance, no matter how much I wished to stay away, and all of us decided we had to put in more effort to make this work. And make no mistake, Harry, we wanted to; none of us were willing to give it up, least of all your father. He often joked that he had two hands for a reason, one to hold each of us."
"What a dork." Harry's smile belied the fondness hidden beneath the words.
"Truly. It was better after that; Lily and I reached our own private understanding, we had to, because James was the center of both of our worlds and we never wanted another month like that again. It's a cliche, but we truly came out stronger for it after all of the ugliness."
Harry wasn't looking at him as he concluded his tale, and it gave him pause. Sirius wondered if he'd said too much-shared too many sordid details, perhaps. After all, no child wanted to know of their parents love life, surely not in so much depth? And for Harry, who barely knew his parents, it must be even worse to hear about the trouble they had. Trouble that Sirius was smack dab in the center of.
"Harry, I-"
"You know, I keep hearing about dad," Harry started, lips pursed in thought. "How wonderful he was, how loving. Even Voldemort praised him, do you know?" Those words were spoken with a healthy dose of disgust dripping off them. Even Sirius couldn't help the shiver of disquiet that went through him.
"And I should be-proud, no? Or, at least, happy? My father was admired, well-liked; he left such a strong impression on people that they praise him even now. But I can't-I'm not able to do that, Sirius." It was said in a matter-of-fact tone, like Harry was reciting a factoid learnt in school but he wasn't fooled-he could hear the despair his godson wasn't voicing out loud.
"Is it terrible that I wished he was here, imperfect and terrible and an utter failure, so I could see him for myself, instead of perfect but dead? Am I a bad person, Sirius?" Harry looked at him imploringly, eyes shining with unshed tears and it was that, seeing Harry so vulnerable, in a state he rarely allowed himself to be in, that sent a lance of pain straight to his heart.
He immediately stood up to gather his godson in his arms, holding him tight against his heart. "Never, Harry. You're not a bad person, not at all. No one has any right to judge you for how you feel about all this."
"I just want my dad, Sirius. I want them back. It hurts-it hurts so bad to hear about them, but I want them." He didn't shout, and perhaps that would've hurt less. Instead, Harry's voice was trembling, stretched taut like a rope ready to snap. He could feel his body shivering in Sirius' arms as well, and could do nothing except hold on to him tighter.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, this is unfair, so unfair to you. You should've never been in this position to begin with-if I could bring them back to you, I would." Words weren't enough, they never were, and Sirius keenly felt the helplessness strike him. His magic whipped around him in agitated streaks, rearing to protect him and his child, unable to find a target. The cabinets were shaking, their wooden panels distending in unnatural waves, reacting to his rage. Sirius suppressed it all with supreme effort, sweat beading on his temple from the control required to not blast the house off its foundations.
Throughout all this, Harry stayed silent in his arms, face pressed against his shirt. When the shaking had stopped, his voice came out small but firm. "It doesn't bother me if you mistake me for dad, sometimes. I'm not like them."
Where did that come from? Sirius pulled back a little so he could look into his godson's face, try to get a better idea of what was going on. "Harry?"
A shrug. "No, I'm just saying-I just told you, didn't I? How much I wish Dad was here? So I understand, I get what it's like. You can think of me as James Potter if it makes you-if it makes things easier."
Horror seeped into Sirius' veins at the words-how could Harry get it so wrong? No. How could Sirius mess it up so bad that this is the impression he left his child with? Great Merlin, he was really no better than what Molly was insinuating, was he?
"Harry," he breathed out, letting go entirely so he could kneel in front of Harry instead. The new position allowed him to look straight into his eyes-he figured it was necessary for this. "That's not-I could never do that. Did you not hear me back there?"
"But-"
"But nothing," Sirius said firmly. "I'm not just saying that to make you, or anyone else, feel better. It's impossible for me to see you as James, pup. I've changed too many of your nappies, and none of his, for that."
Harry's eyes widened. "Oh, that's gross, Sirius!"
A small smile played along the edge of his mouth as he hummed. "James was my best friend, yes, but you're my child. Neither Azkaban nor the Dementors could make me forget that. Your magic has been a part of me since you were born, Harry, how could I ever forget it?"
He could see the words sinking in and knew it wasn't magically alright. He'd have to keep at it, reassure Harry repeatedly, make sure he didn't fall prey to others' venomous words. If needed, he would happily remind him every day of the year for the rest of their lives. But for now, his words had taken root, and that was more than enough.
He leaned forward one last time, making sure to maintain eye contact for this was the most important bit. "All of this to say-I've never once looked at you as James, not when you were a baby, and definitely not now."
A pause, Harry biting down on his lip and looking away. Then, "After the talk we just had, I can't tell you how relieved that makes me."
It took a beat for the joke to land. Sirius' mouth dropped, unable to process that Harry had just- that he-
"You-"
His sputtering was cut off by his godson's delighted snickers and though they were at his expense, Sirius was helpless to do anything except sit back and bask in the warmth of Harry's laughter. It was a welcome change from the despondency of earlier. They would be okay, he knew. They'd be just fine.
well.
fun note to end on, eh? tbh, i debated keeping the last lines and the provocative bits in but i've been trying hard to keep the social interactions in this fic true to how we actually act irl, and well, it made sense then, ykno? sex and dark humor is a big part of my life, at least lol
anyway. here's some thoughts enshrined in my gdocs comments while writing this:br /
-sirius towering over molly-i am of the school of thought that believes sirius was nba standards tall (thank u random tumblr post for that knowledge) and really, my only political agenda w this fic is reinforcing that ;)br /
-it might seem like molly's aggression came out of nowhere but in my head, harry's behaviour has had a big effect-in the books, just him asking sirius responding was enough to push molly to such cruelty; here, he's been way more proactive, pushing his friends away in favor of his godfather, and it's clear sirius is telling him things she doesnt approve of. so the situation has already escalated and she reacted /
-wrt sirius twisting molly's words...i was a little unsure, at first, about keeping it in. but really, it would do a disservice to all the prongsfoot undertones in my writing if i didnt address it (bc js' relationship keeps coming up, and so molly's claims of replacing james take on a more sinister undertone ykno? she might not mean it that way but...)br /
-the j/s and jily! so so so unexpected, like the letters from a while ago-this was truly only supposed to be a 'no ur not a replacement harry' convo but idk. my jilypad heart needed more lol anyone who's read my other stuff knows how obsessed i am w random marauders hcs/lore so i had to bring it in. i contemplated putting it in an outtakes instead of here but the prongsfoot server came thru ahahabr /
-this might be a harry sirius fic, but james will never ever take a backseat. that's just a given. i love him too much for /
- on that note, sirius' belief about not being enough is a clear cut syndrome of unreliable narrator. james potter is shaking his fist at him from the afterlife, being held back by lily. being w lily was never about sirius being less than. (also,,,,,lowkey,,,i got so attached to that sixth year fight and now i wanna write it proper? why am i like this?)br /
-the emotions in this are all over the place-its tough being a hormonal teenager and a traumatised prison escapee isnt it.
okie. that's...atleast a third of what i wanted to say which is a solid success rate. as always, im on tumblr under the same name. come talk to me about FoD or any of these characters anytime! thank you for reading and loving this fic, it means the world to me 33
(ah also,,,,if anyone's interested in more confrontation-y stuff like this, i've got a few more fics w a similar premise!)
next chapter: the trial! woohooo! harry goes up against the ministry, dumbledore realises not all is as he'd presumed, and the long-awaited conversation with amelia bones finally takes place.