"Brumous"
"Chapter Seven: Occlumency"
Harry pushed his food around on his plate, not feeling very hungry. He was more tired than anything, but he refused to succumb to sleep. If Voldemort wanted to possess him again, he was going to be awake for it so he could fight him. Glancing up, he watched as Mrs Weasley flicked her wand at the dishes to have them put themselves away before turning to the bowl of treacle tart ingredients. A swirl of her wrist and the spoon mixed it.
She must have known he was watching her, because she looked up at him with a smile on her face. "Do you want something else to eat, dear?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I'm good. I'm sorry. I'm just not very hungry."
In fact, he felt nauseous. The more he thought about Voldemort controlling him, the sicker he became. He hated this. He felt so helpless, so exposed, so weak for not mastering Occlumency months ago.
Mrs Weasley's lips drew in a thin line. "Sirius said you haven't eaten anything yet."
Harry frowned, his eyes dropping to the chicken pie on his plate. He didn't know Sirius was telling Mrs Weasley about his eating habits. He knew the only reason she had stopped by was so that Sirius could sleep a bit. Last night had been long and exhausting. He probably only had a few hours of sleep himself between his fake vision and being possessed.
"I ate a little," Harry assured her, knowing he had only eaten a bite or two of the toast Sirius had presented him at breakfast. "I'm just…"
Harry sighed.
Not himself.
How could he be with Voldemort at the forefront of his mind, ready to possess him again in order to force him to fetch the prophecy at the Department of Mysteries like a dog? It made Harry anxious to know he could be possessed at the drop of a hat and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't remember the possession and he was unsure of how he had even woken up. All he knew was Ginny's warm fingers on his face. Maybe it was her touch that had snapped him out of it. Would any touch suffice or was it just hers?
Harry sucked in a breath at the thought. He had been very acutely aware that the one person he wanted to sit next to him in that moment was Ginny Weasley. Talking to her a bit in the morning did not successfully quench his need to be near her. Her presence made him feel, well, normal despite nothing around him being normal. Carding a hand through his hair, he tried to put Ginny out of his mind because she was not there and he couldn't rely on her for comfort anyway.
She was his best mate's little sister. Besides, she had liked him ages ago and he had not returned her feelings. Now, she was dating other boys and completely at ease around him. She was no longer putting her elbow into butter dishes when he was near. No, she was confident and friendly with him as he had slid right into the friend zone with her. That was fine before, but now… Harry swallowed. He didn't want to just be her friend. He wished he had seen her properly before. He had surely lost his chance with her and that thought made him miserable. But maybe that was for the best because Ron was his best mate. The last thing he wanted was to upset Ron. Best mates don't date little sisters… right?
Mrs Weasley took a seat across from him, tossing the tea towel on the table between them. "I am always here to listen, Harry."
Harry pushed Ginny to the back of his mind, because Mrs Weasley had no idea that he had been thinking of her only daughter. He cleared his throat as he shrugged, looking at a nick in the wood.
"There's nothing to say," Harry replied, because what could he really say about being on high alert for possession? She couldn't help him. Nobody could. He had to do it himself, but Harry didn't know how to help himself.
Mrs Weasley reached across the table, her hand closing over his. Harry stiffened for a few moments, his eyes burning a hole into the back of her hand.
"I'm not much use to the Order," Mrs Weasley whispered. "Dumbledore doesn't seem to want to have me go on any missions. I'm a dreadful fighter. Years of cooking and cleaning spells certainly put me out of practice, not that I was ever that great at it to begin with. Gideon and Fabian were the duelers in the family. Both Aurors. I knew Sirius knew them, but I learned this year just how close he had been with them. They went out on Order missions all the time together, especially once your parents went into hiding."
Harry looked up at Mrs Weasley to see her smiling woefully at him. "I didn't know he knew them."
Mrs Weasley nodded. "Sirius and I have been making schedules for the Order all year. We've had a fair bit of time to talk. Sirius tells me I'm a good listener. In fact, I feel like I listen to a lot of the Order members talk, offer my support. I can do that for you too, dear. I don't even have to speak. Just talking may help you feel better. I'll only offer my two Knuts if you want me to."
Harry chewed on his bottom lip. He had always adored Mrs Weasley. She had treated him no differently than Ron or any of her other children. For that, Harry had always been more grateful than he could ever put into words. He locked eyes with her warm brown ones.
"I don't remember any of it. One minute, I was in my bed," Harry admitted, leaving out the bit about how he had fallen asleep in his bed next to her only daughter. "The next, I'm in the common room with Ginny. I don't even know how I…" Harry sighed. "What if I don't wake up next time?"
Mrs Weasley squeezed his hand. "Oh, dear, you mustn't think like that. Arthur and I are moving back in. Ginny and Ron will be here by the end of the week. You won't be alone all summer."
Harry felt the knot loosen in his stomach just a tad. "So, I don't have to go back to the Dursleys at all? Not even for a bit? I mean, I know Dumbledore said there would be rules for me to stay at Grimmauld, like I'd have to wear this bracelet and Sirius made it seem like I wasn't going for even a day, but… it's a done deal? One hundred percent?"
Harry didn't want to be too hopeful. His conversation with Dumbledore and Sirius was a bit hazy, information about the prophecy sticking out like a sore thumb while the rest of the details seemed to have faded into the background. His mind had been left spinning with all the information that had been presented to him.
"From what I understand from my talk with Sirius this morning, you are leaving this house over his dead body," Mrs Weasley explained. "Let me tell you something, Harry. I agree with him, because it is over my dead body as well. Sirius and I are not allowing anyone to take you from this house. Do you understand me? Not your aunt and uncle. Not Professor Dumbledore. Not You-Know-Who. Nobody."
Harry felt a little misty-eyed at the speech. He blinked a few times to push back the tears. The fact that Sirius and Mrs Weasley had gone from bickering about who knew what was best for him last summer to being a united front this summer made him feel warm. He had hated choosing Sirius over Mrs Weasley the previous summer. Now, Sirius and Mrs Weasley seemed to be on the same page. That certainly made Harry feel better.
"Now, can I make you something else? What would you like to eat?" Mrs Weasley pressed.
Harry shook his head because her chicken pie really was his favorite meal of hers. "Honestly, Mrs Weasley, nothing. I'm just not that hungry."
She smiled at him. "I know everything that happened last night has got to be replaying over and over again in your mind. I could stir you up a bit of a Calming Draught. It might help you relax a bit."
The last thing Harry wanted to do was alter his mind any more than it already was. He politely declined, because he could handle everything just fine on his own. All he had to do was push the thoughts of yesterday out of his mind and try not to fall asleep. Nobody really needed to sleep anyway, right? Harry swallowed, wondering how he was going to survive without sleep because he couldn't accomplish Occlumency to save his life.
Sirius sighed, leaning against the lumpy back cushion of the sofa. His eyes glanced to over to the clock on the mantle to see it was half past five in the morning. Harry stirred next to him, his head sliding down the cushion and resting on Sirius' shoulder. The kid curled in toward Sirius, soft little snores escaping his lips. They had been up all night, Harry too petrified to sleep yet not willing to admit to it. Sirius knew sleep wouldn't come easy for him, not when the risk of possession haunted them.
Harry's glasses dug uncomfortably into his shoulder. Wincing, he reached up a hand and, as gentle as he could, tugged his godson's glasses off his face. Harry stirred, a low groan sounding in the back of his throat, as he shifted. His legs lifted off the floor, curling up into an odd sitting up fetal position. His knees rested against Sirius' thighs. A lump formed in Sirius' throat as he placed a hand on Harry's knee, remembering how a very little toddler Harry used to curl up against him all the time. Sirius couldn't help the self-hatred that boiled in his chest. He should have fucking been there for Harry since that awful Halloween night. Except he was a fuck up, a bête noire, a waste of space, a bane to the name godfather.
Sirius sucked in a breath, his cheek resting against Harry's unruly mop of hair. There was nothing that Sirius wanted more than to be able to protect Harry, except he didn't know how. Harry was being attacked in the only way Sirius couldn't protect him. It was a battle fought within Harry, a space where Sirius could not go.
The front door creaked open. Sirius was too tired to argue with Dumbledore over keeping Harry, knowing full well that Dumbledore would no doubt try to convince Sirius that the Dursleys' was the best place for him. All Sirius wanted was to be left alone with his godson and try to keep him as calm as possible so that he could, hopefully, learn Occlumency. Sirius didn't want to be the one to break into Harry's mind, but he knew he had to. Harry trusted him, and Sirius just had to figure out how to help him.
The answer came as Remus appeared in the doorway of the parlor. Sirius' head carefully left the top of Harry's, a finger pressing to his lips. The last thing he needed was for Remus to wake up his godson after an all-nighter of worry. Remus seemed to understand as he crept into the room, tugging his wand out of his trouser pocket. He pointed it at Harry and flicked his wrist, a pale-yellow light slithering over him.
"We can talk now," Remus announced as he sat down on the coffee table across from
Sirius. "How's Harry?"
"Exhausted," Sirius replied. "Refused to sleep all night. Said he wasn't tired, but I'm not a moron."
Remus nodded. "The Auror Department has already started to interrogate the Death Eaters captured yesterday. Gawain and Sutton are taking the lead. Tegan has been by St. Mungo's, already asking questions there."
"But the Ministry is still denying what is happening," Sirius guessed.
Remus sighed. "Scrimgeour is meeting with Dumbledore today."
"He's taking the meeting?" Sirius asked, his eyebrows raising.
"Scrimgeour hasn't been entirely on Fudge's side," Remus reasoned. "He has admitted to Dumbledore in the past that the things Harry said about Voldemort's return made a lot more sense than Fudge's delusion he's trying to spin. His hands are tied if he wants to remain Head Auror and provide us access to information, though."
"Right," Sirius grumbled. "Like we have a lot of access."
Remus leaned back on the coffee table. "Look, just be happy he's willing to hear you out when the time comes. There's a reason he designated Kingsley and Sutton as the Auror liaisons on the wizard hunt for you. You're no longer to be kissed upon capture, which is huge. Scrimgeour is willing to let you speak which is more than you had before."
"Let me kiss his boots," Sirius replied, his head lolling back against the sofa.
"It gets you one step closer to your freedom," Remus reasoned, his eyes flickering towards Harry. "And one step closer to gaining custody of Harry."
Sirius swallowed. "He's staying with me this summer."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "Did Dumbledore agree to that?"
Sirius nodded. "I think so, though I'm sure he'll continue to try to convince me all week to send him back to Privet Drive. But I'll tell you one thing, Dumbledore will have to pry him out of my cold, dead hands."
Remus blinked at him, an eyebrow arching. "Tad dramatic, don't you think, Sirius?"
Sirius rolled his eyes. Part of him thought that Dumbledore had only tried to appease him in the moment, more concerned about other matters and knowing Sirius wasn't willing to negotiate. There was no doubt in his mind that Dumbledore was still adamant that Harry needed to go back to Privet Drive. To achieve that, Dumbledore would have to have Sirius arrested or kill him. There was no way that Sirius would allow Harry out of his sight when possession was on the table.
"I'm not joking, Remus," Sirius assured him. "In fact, I was thinking you could help him with Occlumency."
"Sirius, I would love to help him, you know that, but I haven't the skill," Remus reasoned. "I've never broken into a mind nor have I ever had mine broken into."
Sirius chewed on the inside of his cheek. "How about you break into my mind?"
Remus stilled. "Excuse me?"
"Break into my mind and I'll try to figure out how I block people," Sirius elaborated. "I do it naturally. I don't know how, but I do. Maybe if you're actively breaking into my mind, I can figure out how I block you. Maybe that would help Harry."
Remus didn't say anything right away. "I'm not sure I feel entirely comfortable with this."
Sirius let out a bark-like laugh. "You think I am? Like I want anyone seeing inside my fucked-up head. But this is for Harry and we're both going to have to do things we don't want to do to protect him during this war."
Remus let out a long sigh, his eyes flickering to a still sound-asleep Harry. "What makes you think I'll even break your defenses? Dumbledore can't even read you and you don't even actively try to keep him out."
Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. We'll get me nice and black-out drunk, how about that?"
Remus rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, that makes me want to see inside your head even more in that state. Who knows what I would see."
"Probably a lot of dark and depressing shit," Sirius replied. "I'm a miserable drunk."
Remus snorted, nodding in understanding. "You are a dreadful sod when you're properly drunk."
Sirius didn't respond. Instead, he just raised his eyebrows, waiting for Remus to confirm or deny that he would help him. Sirius understood the hesitancy, but Dumbledore was right. He could help Harry. Harry trusted him and was comfortable around him. If Harry could actually learn anything from anyone, it would be Sirius.
"Fine," Remus replied with a sigh. "I'll try."
Sirius nodded. "Let's start this afternoon. Molly was coming over to watch Harry again so I could sleep. But I'm thinking if I'm nice and tired, my defenses might be down. Might give you an opportunity to break in and I can experiment on how to get you out."
Remus stood up from the coffee table, rubbing his palms on his trousers. "This is one of your wilder ideas, Sirius."
"If it makes you feel any better, you're the only one I'd trust enough to actually let you break into my mind," Sirius added, his cheek resting back on Harry's unruly mop of hair.
Remus laughed. "It really doesn't, Sirius. I know you've seen some very fucked up shit in your day."
"So have you," Sirius argued. "I have the potential of seeing that too, you know."
"Yes, I know," Remus confirmed. "I'll stop by to see Dumbledore and ask him for some pointers for this afternoon."
Sirius winced, knowing full well that Dumbledore was staying at his family's home in Godric's Hollow. The very thought of that tiny town made Sirius nauseous. He didn't know if he could ever step foot there again.
"I don't know how you go there," Sirius whispered.
Remus sighed. "We all have to do things we don't want to do from time to time. There's a memorial of James and Lily there, holding a baby Harry. James would have loved it."
Sirius felt a lump in his throat. "Yeah, he probably would."
"The house is still in shambles. They didn't touch it," Remus added.
"Yeah, I sent Ted and Andy over there to grab James' mirror. They said as much," Sirius replied.
Andromeda had brought a box of mementos with her, going a step further than just the mirror. Most of it was pictures and the stuffed black dog plush that Sirius had bought Harry at the hospital the day he was born. She had grabbed Lily's wand off the floor of the nursery, but said she didn't find James'. Sirius could remember clear as day not seeing James' wand when he found James dead on the floor, knowing that he had died without even fighting. Sirius had a good guess where the wand was, no doubt in the sofa cushions in the parlor. James had a habit of losing his wand in sofa cushions for as long as Sirius had known him.
"It was nice that you gave Harry James' mirror," Remus mused. "I'm surprised you didn't just buy new ones."
Sirius swallowed. "He has so little from them that I thought… I thought it'd be nice for him to have it. You know, he gave it to Ginny. So he could talk to them at school. I gave him my mirror for the time being."
"The Weasleys are to Harry what the Potters were to you," Remus said in a thoughtful tone.
It was a thought that Sirius had before, especially once him and Molly had become friends. She was so much like Euphemia Potter that sometimes his heart ached. She doted on Harry as much as she doted on any of her kids, counting Harry as her eighth child. Sirius knew the feeling of being accepted into a family with open arms. It was the best feeling in the world, better than anything else. Losing Fleamont and Euphemia had been hard on him. He thought nothing could be worse… that was until he thought Marlene had died and he had lost James and Lily.
"Does Harry know?" Remus asked. "About Fleamont and Euphemia?"
Sirius sighed. "A bit. He knows they took me in, knows their names and a bit of background."
"We should tell him more," Remus whispered. "You knew them better than I did, but they were… well, they were marvelous people."
Sirius nodded. "Yeah, they were."
Remus cleared his throat, a hand rubbing down his face. "All right. I'll see you this afternoon, yeah? I want to pick Dumbledore's brain before we break into each other's minds."
"Can you ask Dumbledore for his Pensieve?" Sirius asked.
The last thing Sirius wanted to do was relive the night James and Lily died. He knew if he relived the memory of finding James dead and leaving a crying Harry behind, that he would unravel completely. Sirius had spent the last three years just barely keeping himself together by burying a lot of shit and hyper focusing on Harry. With Marlene back, well, Sirius found himself coming undone. One terrible memory would make him spiral.
"Yeah, I will," Remus confirmed.
With that, Remus left. Sirius sucked in a breath as he adjusted slowly so he wouldn't wake Harry up. Kicking his feet up on the coffee table, he slouched down a bit in the cushions and tugged Harry down with him. Harry didn't stir at all, too exhausted to even register that they had shifted on the uncomfortable sofa. Merlin, Sirius needed new furniture.
Laying his head back on the cushions, he stared up at the ceiling. He didn't dare fall asleep, not when Harry was so vulnerable as he slept. Instead, Sirius found his mind wondering to Marlene, despite his efforts to stop himself. He could picture her hazel eyes sparkling as she held an almost one-year-old Harry in her arms, the two of them dancing around the kitchen and laughing up a storm. Sirius could remember the way he had extended his hand to Lily, twirling her around the room and holding her tight in his arms while James displayed his piss-poor dancing skills as he bopped to the music in the most uncoordinated way.
Sirius' heart ached, tears burning his eyes. He wished so badly he could go back to that time and save them all from the heartache that stood in front of them. He wished he could fix his mistakes and go with Marlene to her dad's birthday dinner so he could have saved her years of manipulation and not knowing who she truly was. He wished he had accepted the position of Secret Keeper and kept his family safe. He wished he had never left Harry. He wished a lot of things and none of them could be granted.
Remus stepped into the study of Grimmauld Place, his heart pounding in his chest as he sat the Pensieve down on the desk. Sirius closed the door behind them, his wand waving to cast more privacy charms than were strictly needed. Turning around, Remus surveyed his friend. Sirius looked exhausted with dark circles stamped behind his eyes. His pale skin looked almost waxy, like it had after Azkaban. Remus wondered if Sirius was eating anything or if he just consumed copious amounts of caffeine.
Sirius didn't say anything as he crossed the room, his wand pressing to his temple. A silvery memory appeared a second later as he flicked the shimmering stream into the Pensieve. Sirius didn't even look down, his body turning away from the Pensieve as quickly as he could. Remus glanced down and instantly regretted it when he saw James' vacant eyes staring back at him. He jerked away from the desk, grateful that Sirius had rid himself of that memory.
Sirius cleared his throat. "You ready?"
"Not in the slightest," Remus admitted as he pulled out his wand. "Are you sure about this?"
"I'm questioning my sanity right now, but I think it's a necessary evil," Sirius replied. "Look, you're probably going to see some crazy shit from my childhood. It was… certainly eventful."
Remus nodded. "I know."
Sirius shook his limbs, his wand at his side. He nodded in Remus' direction. Remus took a step forward, his wand raising. It seemed wrong to be breaking into Sirius' mind, learning things about him that Sirius hadn't even allowed James to know or see. Except the past couple of years had brought Remus and Sirius closer than they had ever been. They had been through a lot in their years as friends, experienced times of great understanding and extreme hatred. Now, Remus didn't think he had ever been closer to anyone. He hated the thought of invading Sirius' privacy.
It was for Harry. He kept telling himself that. They had vowed to do everything in their power to protect him when Sirius showed up at his doorstep trembling and croaking out the tale of how Peter had sliced Harry's arm wide open and Voldemort rose from a cauldron. It was something they should have vowed to do when James and Lily died, but they had both been too stubborn and broken to communicate effectively. They promised each other they wouldn't make that mistake again.
Remus sucked in a breath. "Legilimens."
A moment later, the study in Grimmauld Place shifted. Remus found himself standing in the parlor of the Hollow, his body shaking.
James stood near the fireplace, looking defeated and pale. Sirius held a newborn Harry in his arms, the baby fast asleep in his swaddle. Marlene had tears pouring down her face and Lily sat curled up in a chair with Archibald purring in her lap, completely oblivious to the palpable tension in the room.
"What do you mean there's a prophecy?" Sirius snapped. "What are you talking about? They aren't fucking real."
James swallowed visibly. "Dumbledore seems to think differently. Harry fits the parameters of the proph-"
"Fuck that!" Sirius hissed and Harry startled in his arms, a loud wail filling the air.
Marlene stepped close to them, her arms held out for Harry. "Give him to me, Sirius."
He didn't hesitate to hand Harry over. Marlene shushed Harry, rocking him in her arms.
"What does it say?" Sirius demanded. "This so-called fucking prophecy?"
Marlene sniffed. "I can't hear this. I can't even think about this right now. I don't… I can't…"
Lily shooed Archibald off her lap as she stood up. She wiped the tears off her face with the back of her hand as she made her way over to her best friend. Marlene and Lily glanced at each other, an unspoken communication happening between them. They exited the parlor with Harry, leaving just Sirius and James alone, without even a word exchanged between them.
"We have to go into hiding," James announced in a monotone voice, one that sounded so strange and foreign to hear. He sounded so defeated, so downtrodden.
"What does it say?" Sirius asked, his voice dangerously low.
James repeated the prophecy, word for word. The longer James spoke, the angrier Sirius became. As soon as James finished talking, Sirius grabbed a vase and hurled it across the room. Then he grabbed a lamp, pitching that as well. James just stood there, his eyes sliding shut as he listened to his possessions smash against the walls around them.
The scene melted, and Remus was glad. He didn't know how much longer he could just stare at James breathing and watch as Sirius destroyed the Hollow. Remus swallowed, thinking about how it took him a week and a half to get back from Morrighan's pack and meet Harry. By that point, James and Lily had perfected their story and explained how Voldemort had personally threatened James' life. Remus hadn't even questioned it, knowing full well how much James' refusal to join the Death Eaters had angered Voldemort.
A new scene spun into focus. Remus stood in a room he wasn't familiar with, but he could guess where he was due to the mismatched mixture of greens and reds. Turning around slowly, Remus felt the air leave his lungs at the sight of his friend who appeared to only be a teenager.
Sirius laid on a bed in dirty and tattered robes. Fresh bruises and dried blood covered the skin that peeked out from beneath his robes. A handcuff was encased around his right wrist while the other end attached to his wrought-iron bed. Only the sound of nails scratching against the metal cuffs could be heard.
Remus took a step closer, recognizing the handcuffs as magical ones that were only issued to Aurors. The lock could not be picked and the chain was unbreakable.
Sirius' body twitched involuntarily as his fingers picked at the metal until blood poured freely from his nails. The crimson ran down his wrist and dripped onto the already soaked filthy sheet beneath him. It smelled foul, like Sirius had not bathed in days and the distinct odor of urine coated the room.
Remus could remember after the Christmas holiday in their fifth year when James had sought him out and practically begged him to forgive Sirius for the Whomping Willow incident. James had told him how Sirius' family had tried to force him into submission, to take the Dark Mark and to marry Bellatrix. Apparently, Sirius suspected something was going to happen from the taunts from the Slytherins and a letter from his mother. It was why Sirius had snapped with Snape and told him about the notch in the Whomping Willow.
A hand touched Remus' shoulder. He whipped around to see Sirius standing behind him. Remus had forgiven Sirius about the Whomping Willow incident years ago, but he had never forgotten it. In that moment, Remus thought perhaps he was willing to forget.
"I'm done," Sirius announced.
Remus felt himself being thrown backwards, nearly tipping backward. In a blink of an eye, he was standing in the study of Grimmauld Place. Sirius looked stoic, unaffected by what he had seen. Remus couldn't stop his limbs from shaking.
"I think I know how I do it," Sirius said, shaking his hair out of his eye. "Let's go again."
"A-again?" Remus gasped. "Are you fucking with me?"
Sirius scoffed, a rueful smile crossing his features. "Yeah, again. It's about blocking the senses, disconnecting from everything around me. No wonder I'm a natural. I live in a constant state of denial."
Remus only blinked at him.
"Do you need a minute?" Sirius asked, eyeing Remus.
Remus let out a humorless chuckle. "I just saw my best mate handcuffed to a bed. Those were Auror-issued handcuffs."
Sirius nodded, his throat clearing. "My great uncle Lycoris was an Auror. No wife, no kids. Just a short and lonely life. My dad kept some of his more interesting things after he passed, like his Auror-issued handcuffs. Came in quite handy for him, as you saw."
"You act as though we're merely discussing flavors of tea," Remus said, his head shaking.
Sirius shrugged. "It is what it is, Remus. I don't know. I don't dwell on it because I can't change my shit childhood. It's how things were. I stopped feeling a long time ago. It's probably why I can shut down so easily. Harry, on the other hand, wears his heart on his sleeve. You can tell exactly how he is feeling by taking one good look at him. He can't mask it the same way I can. That's the difference, isn't it? Feel too much and Occlumency is a bitch to learn. You feel nothing and it's a walk in the park."
"Sirius…" Remus trailed off, not even knowing what to say.
"Again," Sirius commanded. "I want to concentrate on how I shut down."
"I don't want to do this anymore," Remus admitted.
"Too fucking bad," Sirius snapped. "It doesn't matter what you want. All that matters is figuring out how to help Harry. Again."
Remus sucked in a breath, his wand arm raising in the air. "Legilimens."
The room swirled, melting into a blend of colors. Remus let out a sigh of relief when he landed in a familiar study, his eyes locking on Fleamont Potter sitting on a leather sofa with a trembling teenage Sirius next to him. Remus wrinkled his nose at the stench in the air, a mixture of blood and urine filtering through his nostrils. If Fleamont was bothered by the smell, he didn't let on. In fact, he scooted closer to Sirius on the sofa, a hand clapping on the back of his neck.
"You will not go back there," Fleamont assured him. "Never. Do you understand me, Sirius? Not even for a second."
Sirius nodded, tears welling in his eyes but they did not fall.
"You will always have a home here, no matter how old you are. No matter if you're married and have kids of your own," Fleamont continued. "You are family. You are my son, do you understand that?"
Sirius screwed his eyes shut, his entire body quaking. Fleamont cupped Sirius' face, forcing him to look up. The moment their eyes locked, Fleamont smiled warmly at him.
"I love you, Sirius," Fleamont continued, his voice strong and unwavering. "Orion and Walburga will pay for this. I will not rest until they pay for what they have done to you."
"I don't…" Sirius croaked out, like he had screamed himself hoarse and could no longer speak. "Want you hurt."
Fleamont only smiled, pulling Sirius into a tight embrace. "You forget, I am still the British Dueling Grand Champion."
Sirius wrapped his arms around Fleamont, his chin resting on his shoulder. "They hurt people for fun."
Fleamont closed his eyes, his hand moving up to rest on the back of Sirius' dirty and matted hair. "People like that, Sirius, they don't make it far in life. They will run out of allies soon enough, rotting alone in a ditch because they can't get anyone to help them in their time of need. You are different. You are kind and compassionate. You are far better than your blood."
Sirius let out a bitter laugh, attempting to pull away but Fleamont would not loosen his grip.
"You are," Fleamont emphasized.
Sirius let out a long shaky breath. "I told Severus Snape about Remus in the Shrieking Shack. I almost killed a wizard… almost condemned one of my best friends to a life in Azkaban for murder. I told James what I had done. He saved both their lives. I'm no better than the rest of my family."
Fleamont pulled back, his hands cupping either side of Sirius' face. "You are. You show regret, remorse. What you did was wrong, but you already knew that. You already are punishing yourself enough for it. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, you'll be more careful with your anger in the future. You need to learn to control your emotions, Sirius, and not act on them."
"Remus hates me," Sirius said in a miserable tone, his eyes looking down.
"He may always hate you, but that's his right," Fleamont replied. "The only thing you can do is apologize and hope that one day he sees just how sorry you are."
Sirius sniffed, his eyes closing shut.
"I can tell you something else. No matter what you do, Euphemia and I will always be here for you. We know the person you truly are, the man you want to be all the time but are struggling to be because of your upbringing," Fleamont continued, his voice sounding so sure. "There's not a day that goes by that Euphemia and I won't fight for you and help you be that man."
Remus felt someone brush his shoulder. He turned to see his Sirius standing next to him, his eyes staring at the scene in front of him.
"He was a good man," Sirius whispered. "It's a shame Harry will never know him. He gave the best talks. Made me actually think I was something other than a piece of shit."
Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out. Sirius only grabbed his shoulder and they were thrown out of the memory. Remus stumbled backward, nearly colliding with a giant globe resting on a stand.
Sirius cleared his throat. "I think if Harry can shut down his senses one at a time, he'll achieve it. The more he does it, the faster he'll get at it."
Remus just stared at Sirius. "I think we need to have a talk."
"No, it's ancient history," Sirius replied, carding a hand through his hair. "I need to go check on Harry. Can you stop by sometime in the morning on Friday to watch him so I can sleep a few hours? Molly needs to grab Ginny and Ron from King's Cross."
Remus nodded, not wanting to change the subject but knowing he wasn't going to get Sirius to say anything more. "He's still not sleeping at night?"
"No," Sirius replied. "I'm hoping once Ron's back that he'll try to sleep in his room. Go back to normal. I can activate the bracelet then, but I don't feel comfortable doing that downstairs where he's so close to the door. What if I can't get to him fast enough?"
"Probably a smart idea," Remus concluded. "But, yeah, I'll be by at nine."
"Great. Thanks."
With that, Sirius stormed out of the study. Remus stood in the middle of the room, his mind reeling from what he had just seen in the darkest corners of Sirius' mind. When Sirius had heard about Marlene, he had instantly jumped to the conclusion that it had been Bellatrix who had crafted and enacted the sick plan against her. After seeing the way that Sirius' own family had treated him, which was far worse than he had ever imaged before, he suddenly understood perfectly just how awful the Black family actually was. There was no doubt in his mind that Bellatrix was directly involved in what had happened to Marlene. For the first time since he saw Marlene in Wiltshire, he understood that Sirius wasn't just staying away from her because of Harry. No, Sirius was protecting her from himself, distancing himself so his family couldn't hurt her more than they already had.
Harry shifted nervously, wand at his side, as he stared at Sirius. His godfather had spent the afternoon locked up in the study with Professor Lupin as they worked out how to explain Occlumency in a way Harry could understand. After a late nip, Harry found himself vis-à-vis with Sirius with his first Occlumency lesson of the summer.
"You have to shut your senses down," Sirius explained. "Focusing on not seeing or hearing anything. Then, you can force me out because the memory isn't there."
Harry blinked, his head nodding. He supposed that made sense. If he couldn't see or hear the memory, then surely whoever was in his mind couldn't see it as well. He swallowed, not sure if he was ready. But Harry didn't think it really mattered if he was ready or not. Sirius looked like he was about to invade his mind at any second, a grim yet determined look crossing his features.
"Say stop, and I stop, all right?" Sirius confirmed. "I'm not here to invade your privacy. I'm here to help you. Merlin knows there are things I don't want anyone to see about my past."
Harry appreciated that more than he was willing to admit. The last thing he wanted Sirius to see was his aunt and uncle abusing him or to see him weak and pathetic as Peter Pettigrew cut his arm and brought Voldemort back to life. Harry licked his bottom lip, his breaths coming out in harsh huffs.
"Are you all right?" Sirius asked.
"I'm fine," Harry confirmed. "Just…"
Nervous.
Harry let out a long sigh. He didn't want Sirius thinking he was a waste of space, someone who couldn't even protect his own mind.
"James was shit at hiding his emotions," Sirius supplied. "You could tell what he was thinking just by the way he stood. You're very much the same. I can tell how you feel by just looking at you. Your expressions give you away."
Harry let out a sour huff. "That's brilliant."
"It means you're genuine," Sirius continued, their eyes meeting. "It's a Potter family trait. Fleamont was the same way. From what I'm told, so was Henry."
Harry didn't know what to say to that. Being genuine didn't matter if he was dead.
Sirius sighed. "Look, I know this isn't fun or how you want to spend your evening. I wish we could sit down and talk rather than do this. But it's a necessary evil."
Harry's jaw clenched. "I know. I'm ready."
Sirius nodded, his left arm rising up. He pressed the tip of his wand to Harry's temple. There was a clear and obvious hesitation printed across his godfather's face. Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous for what might pop up. His legs wobbled as he tried to clear his mind because the last thing he wanted Sirius to see was his childhood with the Dursleys. Anything but that. It was bad enough Snape had seen it, but Harry couldn't stomach if Sirius saw even a second of it.
"Legilimens," Sirius whispered.
Harry started to fall, slipping back in time to a place he knew he wouldn't want to be. When he landed, he could see his knobby-kneed self in the kitchen of his aunt's house. Harry saw his trembling younger self sitting on the stool at the island, big crocodile tears welling in his eyes. A tarp sat underneath the legs of the stool. He couldn't be more than five as his younger self sat as still as a statue. Harry didn't need to even think about what would happen. This was very clearly one of his most hated events. A haircut.
The door to the kitchen burst open and his aunt stormed into the kitchen with scissors and a menacing scowl on her face. Harry looked at her through his long fringe that fell into his eyes.
Harry was lost in the memory, unable to clear his mind no matter how hard he tried. Sirius would see how his aunt made it her life goal to embarrass and humiliate him as a child, knowing full well that everyone at school would make fun of him. Harry tried to stop the memory, but he couldn't. He didn't know how. He tried to picture a door but no door came. He tried to imagine an off-tune melody but it only made his heart race. What were the other strategies that Professor Lupin told him about?
Harry didn't want to cry 'stop' just yet. He needed to make a good effort at trying to push Sirius out. There were far worse memories that could have appeared. His heart pounded in his ears as he tried to recall what Sirius had told him to do. Shut down his senses? Except, how could he do that?
His aunt started to rant about his awful hair, taking the scissors to the sides and back with zero care or thought. Harry's shoulders shook silently.
Hands pressed on Harry's shoulders. A face leaned in close to his.
"Close your eyes, Harry," Sirius whispered, his voice thick and nearly cracking.
Harry screwed his eyes shut and he no longer saw his aunt and his upset tiny self. His chest heaved as Sirius gave his shoulders a squeeze.
"Think of nothing," Sirius whispered before his hands left his shoulders and he placed his hands firmly against Harry's ears.
Harry couldn't see or hear what was going on around him. It helped. A lot actually. Taking a deep breath, Harry thought of nothing. He continued to think of nothing, concentrating on the blackness of his eyelids.
Sirius' hands left his ears but Harry still didn't hear anything but his godfather's low rumble. "Open your eyes, Harry."
Harry opened his eyes to see a dark abyss around him. A smile tugged on his face, his heart soaring.
He did it.
He did it!
Harry whipped around to tell Sirius that he had done it but when he turned around, he only saw the back garden of Privet Drive. Harry, now a bit older, ran across the garden towards a tree, Aunt Marge's vicious bulldog chasing after him and snapping at his ankles. Harry winced at the scene, remembering how much he hated that blasted dog and had secretly cheered when he overheard the conversation about it dying.
His younger self climbed the tree with practiced ease, almost floating up it. Harry blinked, recognizing how magic had helped him climb the tree effortlessly. Cocking his head to the side, Harry wondered how he hadn't realized before that he just wasn't an excellent climber. His arms could barely reach the next tree limb but his feet rose off the branch below to allow him to grasp it.
The dog growled, jumping up to try to grab Harry but he was nowhere near him.
"Get down here right now, boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted, his red-faced as he stomped across the garden.
"No!" Harry shouted back as he turned and sat on a branch, his fingers curling around a nearby branch to keep him steady.
Uncle Vernon fumed. "You do not say 'no' to me! There are rules, boy! Lest you forget!"
Harry glanced up at his younger self, knowing he was going to suffer from his uncle's belt for his refusal to follow an order, knowing full well he would go to bed without dinner into his cupboard for an entire day. He knew his stomach would ache from hunger and his bladder would hurt from needing the toilet. It wouldn't be the first or the last time his younger self would soil himself while locked in the cupboard under the stairs and cry silently. But his younger self had been no older than seven, petrified of being bit by a vicious dog. Somehow, that seemed worse at the time than a few lashes from his uncle's belt and the darkness of his cupboard.
"Harry, close your eyes," Sirius commanded in a soft voice. "Keep them closed. Push me out completely once you see nothing. Clear your mind and then force me out, do you understand?"
Harry did as Sirius commanded, screwing his eyes shut and covering his ears with his hands. He thought of the darkness again, wishing for it to overtake the scene in front of him. Harry could no longer hear his uncle shouting, no longer felt the fear and defiance rolling off his younger self. But Harry didn't know if he had completely cleared his mind. Cracking an eye open, Harry saw darkness. His lips twitched. He'd done it again. Now, now he had to push Sirius out completely. He could do this. He could push Sirius out.
He blinked, thinking of Sirius. Perhaps he could push him through a door? Maybe he could… Harry didn't know. How could he push Sirius out of his mind when his mind was a blank void?
His mind was so focused on Sirius that the man materialized in front of him.
Sirius was on his knees, his hands tied behind his back. His chest heaved, his lip busted, his eyes tired. Shelves appeared on either side of him, the prophecies standing out like little balls of light in the darkness. Out of the shadows, Lord Voldemort stepped forward.
"You will fetch it for me," Voldemort hissed, his voice slithering on the walls and vibrating around him.
"No," Sirius wheezed, out of breath but so defiant.
Voldemort's fingers tangled into Sirius' hair, pulling his head back to look at him. Pain contorted on his face, his back arching. Voldemort bent down, his face so close to Sirius'.
"Harry Potter is mine," Voldemort hissed. "You will hand me the prophecy."
Sirius gasped. "You'll have to kill me."
A twisted and sardonic grin flitted across Voldemort's face. "Don't worry. I will gladly dispose of you when I am done. Just like I disposed of James and Lily Potter."
Harry's stomach lurched and he fell. His eyes fluttered and Harry realized he was on the floor of the kitchen in Grimmauld Place. He blinked at the sweat that burned his eyes as he struggled to sit up, but his limbs trembled and shook violently. Letting out a low breath, he glanced to his right to see Sirius slouched against a kitchen cupboard, his face pale and eyes staring at him unblinkingly.
"Sirius?" Harry managed to gasp out.
Sirius swallowed visibly. "You did good, Harry."
"You stopped it," Harry stated for clarification because he was certain there was no way he pushed Sirius out of his mind.
Sirius nodded as he grabbed the lip of the counter and pulled himself up. "I did."
Harry's heart beat harsh in his chest. "Why?"
He pushed his glasses up into his damp hair so that he could wipe the sweat off his face. His limbs twitched no matter how hard he tried to get them to stop. It was a side effect of having his mind broken into, yet another thing he hated. Just one more thing he couldn't control.
Sirius looked at him, an unreadable expression crossing his features. "I could sense you needed a break."
"I was fine," he snapped. "I was getting the hang of it. I was finally making headway and you didn't trust me enough to try again."
Sirius forced a smile on his face. "Fine, I stopped it because it was a memory linked to Voldemort."
Harry scrambled up off the floor, his heart beating harsh in his chest. "And you think I'm too weak to experience it?"
"It has nothing to do with that, and you know it," Sirius replied.
"No, I really don't," Harry replied. "Enlighten me a bit. Maybe if someone took the time to explain things to me, then I wouldn't be so bloody confused all the time!"
Sirius let out a huff. "For all I know, Voldemort is in your head right now, spying and creeping about. Anything dealing with him is going to draw his attention, make him more interested."
Harry blinked, feeling like ice water had been dunked over his head. "You think he… you think he's always there?"
"I don't know, Harry," Sirius replied. "We have to be cautious. We don't need to be drawing his attention to look closer."
Harry swallowed. "I can't help where my mind goes."
Except, that wasn't entirely true. He had forced a memory of Sirius to the forefront of his mind when he was concentrating on pushing him out. What could Harry think about before the next invasion? Could he focus on something so mundane and uninteresting that he'd be able to force Sirius out that way?
"Let's give it another go," Harry said as he tried to think of something boring.
"Are you sure?" Sirius asked.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I have an idea."
Harry focused on flying. A Quidditch match. Nothing crazy or terrifying. Leaning his head to the right, Harry heard the crack in his neck and let out a small breath of relief. Harry slid his eyes closed, picturing faceless figures flying in the air. He felt the tip of Sirius' wand press against his temple.
Quidditch. Quidditch. Quidditch.
"Legilimens." Sirius' voice sliced through the air, knocking the breath out of his lungs.
Harry opened his eyes to see himself at fourteen standing outside at the Quidditch World Cup, tents smoking around them and children crying.
Harry unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders. He turned towards a shivering Ginny, her green painted stripes smeared on her cheeks, and her wide eyes staring at Mr Weasley talking to some Ministry officials. Harry wrapped his jacket around her shoulders, offering her a smile.
"Thanks, Harry," Ginny whispered as she maneuvered her arms into the sleeves.
Harry shrugged. "You looked cold."
Her bottom lip slid between her teeth, her fingers poking through the too-long sleeves and fumbling for the zipper. It was way too big on her, the jacket practically swimming on her. Ginny had been small at thirteen, looking far younger than she actually was. Harry chuckled as he gestured towards Ginny's hands.
"Here, lemme roll up the sleeves," Harry said, a smile twitching on his lips.
Ginny held out her right sleeve and Harry rolled it back for her until her entire hand was exposed. He repeated the process for the other hand. Ginny easily zipped up the jacket before she wrapped her arms around her stomach.
"I want to go home," she whispered. "I'm sure Mum is fretting something awful."
Harry nodded, taking a step closer to her until their arms bumped against each other. Ron stood not far away from them and he had an easy arm slung around Hermione's shoulders and held her close to his chest. Harry glanced between Ron and Ginny before his gaze settled back on her, his brows furrowing low on his face.
"Are you, err, still cold?" Harry asked, his hands shoving into his trouser pockets.
Ginny shook her head in the negative, but her body leaned closer to his. She rested her head against his arm and the two of them stood huddled together.
"Close off your senses," Sirius said from behind him.
Except, Harry didn't want to close off his senses. He wanted to watch what happened next, because he couldn't quite remember. But he couldn't help but watch his younger self. hE wanted to scream at him. Ginny was right there, leaning against him, and he wasn't flinching or even looking uncomfortable. How had he not noticed back then that he was completely at ease with her, sought her comfort?
"Harry, can you hear me?" Sirius asked, a hand touching Harry's shoulder.
A lump formed in Harry's throat, his gaze flickering between his younger self and the younger version of Ginny. She pointed at something and Harry saw a drunk wizard in full Irish paint stumbling from a smoking tent and asking what happened.
"Imagine being so drunk that you didn't know you were being attacked," Harry said.
Ginny let out a small laugh. "The tent was on fire! Imagine if nobody had put it out and he woke up burning to death."
"That's extremely morbid," Harry replied. "He probably would have died. Too drunk to know he should stop, drop, and roll."
Ginny lifted her head off Harry's arm and looked at him. "Stop, drop, and roll?"
Harry shrugged. "It's what Muggles are supposed to do if they find themselves on fire."
"Harry!" Sirius snapped.
Harry scowled, finally closing his eyes. He focused on the darkness as his hands rose to cover his ears. He concentrated on the sound of his own breathing, reluctantly willing the scene to leave his mind. He found it easier to concentrate with Sirius, to will his mind black. Maybe it was because of his comfort level with Sirius, knowing that he only had to utter one word and everything would stop.
Opening his eyes again, Harry froze. Everything was black except for Ginny. She was small, no older than eleven, with her face completely ashen. A battered leather diary pressed against her chest. Ink seeped from the book, slithering across her body. She didn't move, didn't fight it. It was a nightmare Harry had had many times before, one that hadn't graced his mind since he was twelve.
"Stop!" Harry gasped.
Ginny melted. The black engulfing her as the kitchen of Grimmauld appeared before him. Harry stumbled back, the blood rushing violently in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to see Ginny, to make sure she was all right. He knew it was silly, because Ginny wasn't eleven with the diary anymore.
"What was that?" Sirius asked.
Harry snapped his attention to the right to see Sirius peering at him curiously. "A nightmare I used to have. After…" Harry licked his lips, wondering if Dumbledore had ever told Sirius about the Chamber of Secrets. His past adventures in his first and second year weren't exactly something he had talked about with his godfather. "Can I go lay down?"
Sirius nodded. "Yeah, I'll follow you up. I want to activate the bracelet if you're going to sleep."
Harry tried to keep the scowl off his face, and he didn't say anything. He didn't want to give Dumbledore or Sirius any reason to send him back to the Dursleys for safe-keeping. Nodding, he allowed Sirius to follow him upstairs to the room he was to share with Ron come Friday. Once inside, he turned around and held out his wrist. After a few wordless spells, Sirius gripped Harry on the shoulder.
"Get some rest, yeah? Just leave your room when you're up, and I'll make sure it's you," Sirius explained. "Meet me at the top of the stairs on this floor, all right?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed.
Without another word, Sirius left the bedroom and shut the door on his way out. Harry had no plans of sleeping. Instead, he grabbed Sirius' mirror off the bedside table before he sat down on his bed. Maneuvering into a comfortable position, he checked his watch to see it was nine at night. Ginny would most likely be packing to come home in the morning.
"Ginny Weasley," Harry said before he could change his mind.
It took a few moments for her to answer. When she did, she was sitting on her bed with a wide smile on her face.
"Can't wait until tomorrow to talk?" Ginny asked, her tone light and playful.
Harry forced a smile on his lips. "Just wanted to see you."
Ginny blinked, the smile falling from her face. "Are you all right?"
Harry nodded. "Sirius was helping me with Occlumency. Relived the moment I gave you my jacket and you decided to never give it back. It was way too big on you."
Ginny let out a small chuckle, her head shaking. "I'll give it back tomorrow. Sheesh."
Harry laughed. "Don't bother. Sirius has already decided I grew too much last year and has told me that his cousin, Tonks' mum, will be by tomorrow to take my measurements. I think Sirius has too much money and time on his hands."
"Guess what we're doing tomorrow night, then. You can model all your new clothes," Ginny said with a smirk.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Never."
Ginny laughed, and Harry's heart warmed. "Have you met Tonks' mum yet?"
"No," Harry admitted. "Sirius said she's really nice, though. He said I'll like her a lot."
Ginny nodded. "Do you want me to grab Ron for you?"
Harry stilled at the question. He hadn't called to talk to Ron. He only wanted to see Ginny, make sure she was all right. Except, how could he tell her that without looking like a complete moron? His lips parted, wishing he knew what to say.
Harry shook his head. "Nah, knowing him, he's last-minute packing for tomorrow."
Ginny laughed. "You're probably right. He said at dinner he hadn't packed a single thing. Hermione looked mortified. I think she's been packed ever since she finished her Arithmancy O.W.L. yesterday."
"How about you?" Harry asked.
Ginny bobbed her head back and forth. "I may or may not have been packing when you called."
"Sorry, I can let you go," Harry said in a rush. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."
Ginny hesitated for a brief second before she offered him a tight smile. "Night, Harry."
The mirror disconnected and Harry tossed it onto the mattress next to him. Flopping back onto his back, he stared up at the yellowing ceiling of his room. Raising his right arm over his head, he inspected the silver bracelet on his wrist. He hadn't paid it much attention the past couple of days because Sirius had never activated it. They had spent their nights in the parlor and Harry often fell asleep in the early hours of the morning next to Sirius on the sofa. Quite a few times, he had embarrassingly woken up with his head on Sirius' shoulder. One mortifying moment, he had been cuddled up against his godfather's side. Sirius didn't mention anything about it, but Harry had been more than just a tad embarrassed.
Harry squinted at the silver, noticed the faintly etched runes that were embossed the entire way around the bracelet. For the first time ever, he wished he had taken Ancient Runes. With a sigh, Harry rested his arm next to him on the bed and laid there stiffly. He could not sleep. He could not allow Voldemort to possess him again. Swallowing, Harry wondered just how much longer he could function on only a few hours of sleep. He knew it wouldn't be long, his entire body felt like it was slowly shutting down already.
Sirius poured himself a third cup of coffee for the morning, as he lived and breathed off caffeine instead of whisky ever since Harry had arrived at Grimmauld Place. He glanced up to see Harry picking at his toast, peeling off small bits and dropping them onto the plate. Sirius noticed that Harry wasn't just forgoing sleep but seemed to be forgoing food as well. Letting out a sigh, Sirius made his way over to the table and took a seat across from Harry.
Last night had been the first night Harry had spent in his room. He had remained there the entire night until Sirius' bracelet burned on his wrist at a little before eight in the morning. Harry had waited for him at the top of the stairs like instructed, his back leaning against the wall with the tip of his hair touching a mounted decapitated house-elf head. The kid didn't look like he slept much, if at all.
"Remus is stopping by this morning," Sirius announced, as he took a sip of his coffee, watching as Harry winced.
"I don't need to be minded at all times," Harry replied, pushing his plate away and leaning back in his chair. "Voldemort hasn't tried to possess me again."
Sirius nodded, his fingers lacing around his mug. "Doesn't mean he won't try again, right when you think you're safe and lower your defenses. Voldemort likes to play mind games."
Harry looked unbothered by that tidbit. Sirius had some serious concerns about Harry's nonchalance about his safety and general wellbeing.
Before he could say anything else on the matter, the door to the kitchen opened and Andromeda Tonks stepped in. Sirius rolled his eyes at her appearance. She was dressed to the nines in a black pencil skirt and green blouse with matching jewelry. Her hair was perfectly curled, not a hair out of place. She let out a huff when she noticed Sirius, her head shaking.
"Will you ever wear anything other than a dirty t-shirt?" Andromeda asked as she walked towards the table, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. "Maybe actually shave for once."
"I shave," Sirius protested, running his fingers over his five o'clock shadow. "Stubble is in."
Andromeda wrinkled her nose. "You look younger when you're clean shaven."
"I don't really give a fuck about that," Sirius replied, his gaze turning towards Harry. "Harry, this is my cousin, Andy. Andy, this is Harry," Sirius introduced them, his hand waving unnecessarily between them.
Andromeda turned towards him, her eyes focusing on the teenager. "Merlin, Sirius."
Sirius arched an eyebrow, watching as Harry squirmed under the gaze of his cousin. "What?"
"I've seen his picture in the papers, of course, but it's something else entirely in person," Andromeda replied. "It's scary how much he looks like James. It's far more obvious in person."
"You knew my dad, too?" Harry asked.
Sirius nodded, leaning back in his chair so he could kick his legs up on the table. "Yeah, she knew him a bit."
Andromeda reached into her pocketbook and pulled out a pile of what looked like letters and photos. She glanced at Sirius for a brief moment before she extended the neat pile towards Harry.
"While I never met you as a child, I felt like I knew you, given Sirius' inability to stop talking about you," Andromeda explained. "There's every picture and letter Sirius sent me in the first year or so of your life."
Harry took the pile with both hands, a soft thank you escaping his lips. Sirius craned his neck so he could see a picture on the top of the pile of him holding Harry at only a few hours old in the hospital, a wide smile gracing his youthful-looking face. James stood next to him, an arm around his shoulders as he looked down at the newborn with a fond smile spread across his lips. On the other side of Sirius was Fleamont, who looked just as besotted by Harry as much as Sirius and James did.
Harry flipped the picture for Sirius to see. "Is this my grandfather? Fleamont?"
Sirius nodded. The Potter genes were strong as all the men seemed to look nearly identical. Sirius could easily see Harry looking exactly like Fleamont one day with his salt and pepper hair and laugh lines around the mouth.
"Yeah," Sirius replied. "That's Fleamont."
Andromeda arched an eyebrow. "You've never seen Fleamont before?"
Harry shook his head. "I didn't even know my parents' names until I started at Hogwarts."
Sirius hated that fact. It made him want to march to Privet Drive and kill Petunia with his bare hands. The only thing that stopped him was Harry sitting across from him, his mind wandering to his Occlumency adventure with Remus where Fleamont had told him he needed to learn to control his emotions. Merlin only knew how hard he was trying.
Andromeda sat her pocketbook down on the table as she took a seat. "Sirius is telling you all about your family, isn't he? He can be a quiet sod a fair amount of the time, keeping things to himself because he doesn't want to think about them."
Sirius huffed, shooting Andromeda a rude gesture even though she didn't bother to look at him. Her focus was solely on Harry.
"He is," Harry said, his head nodding.
"Does he tell you enough?" Andromeda pressed. "You have to pry to get him to talk. It's terribly annoying."
"Oi, I'm sitting right here, Andy!" Sirius protested.
Andromeda waved in his direction to shush him. "Although, I'm sure all you have to do is ask him. Sirius has always had a soft spot for you."
Harry met Sirius' gaze, the corners of his lips twitching. "Really?"
"Yes, I remember a story of how you were stubborn at… how old was he, Sirius?" Andromeda asked as she turned to look at Sirius. "When he went through that phase where he wanted to fall asleep with Padfoot every night?"
Sirius cleared his throat. "Ten months, I think?"
Andromeda grinned as she reached for the pile she had given Harry when she arrived and shuffled through them. "He minded you one night for your parents. He didn't want to put you to bed because you cried every time he tried to put you in the cot, simply refusing to let you cry it out for even a second. So, he took you downstairs and transformed into Padfoot to try to entertain you a bit," Andromeda continued as she stopped shuffling through the pile of photos and pulled one out. "You cuddled right next to him to go to sleep. One night of that and you became a pain to put to bed. I think your parents weren't very happy with Sirius that he broke your routine, so he went over every night for two weeks to help put you to bed."
Andromeda laid the photo out on the table. Sirius looked at it to see a very small Harry laying across Padfoot's midsection. He remembered Lily snapping the picture when they found them like that.
A grin flitted across Harry's face. "Did you really? Go over every night?"
Sirius nodded. "Yeah, but you went to bed at like seven so it wasn't that big of a deal. I'd rock you for a good hour because you would just sob for me to turn. You'd be so bloody tired, too. It was a bit annoying really," Sirius added with a smile.
Harry smiled softly, his gaze snapping down to the pile of letters and pictures. He shifted through them and Sirius caught sight of a bunch of different photos of him and Harry or just Harry. Looking back, it seemed simpler back then. Tail and fight Death Eaters all day before heading over to the Potters and then finishing up his day next to Marlene. Now, well, now he had a godson who had been neglected and abused his entire life, who couldn't sleep without seeing inside the head of a sociopath or being possessed. Marlene no longer remembered him. He was stuck in the house he vowed to never step foot in again, sleeping on the bed that he had been chained to twenty years prior as he was told to submit.
"So, the real reason I am here is to go shopping for Harry, correct?" Andromeda asked.
Sirius nodded. "He's grown taller since last summer. Harry, why don't you stand up so Andy can measure you?"
Harry glanced up, a less than thrilled look crossing his face. "My clothes are fine."
Andromeda wrinkled her nose. "No, they're really not. Is this all he owns? A bunch of t-shirts? Who shopped for him the last time? You?"
Sirius let out a fake laugh. "No, your daughter actually bought him clothes last summer seeing as I'm wanted for murder."
"That explains it," Andromeda replied with a sigh as she stood up. "Her fashion sense is as good as yours. Come on, Harry, this will be over with sooner if you'd just stand up."
Harry let out a dramatic sigh, setting the pile of things onto the table. He stood up and moved closer to Andromeda. She pulled her wand out of her pocketbook and flicked her wrist. A tape measure appeared and stretched along Harry's limbs. He glanced up, peering over his glasses at Sirius, looking mildly annoyed. Sirius just grinned at him before turning his attention to Andromeda.
"Dress him like a teenager, yeah? Don't make me regret asking you," Sirius commented as he dug in his pocket and produced a pouch of money for her.
Andromeda snorted. "A few proper outfits wouldn't hurt him. A nice Muggle suit and some proper dress robes."
"If you get him traditional stuffy dress robes, I'm disowning you," Sirius said and he was only half kidding.
He had spent his entire childhood wearing traditional dress robes, not allowed to play and ruin them. He could remember sitting in a chair, swinging his legs back and forth as he heard the Muggle children outside yelling and playing football. When they went out into the Muggle world, he had been forced to wear a suit and tie that was perfectly pressed.
Andromeda turned to Harry. "You're a fifth year so that means you've had your career talk. What do you plan on doing?"
"Err…" Harry started as he shook his leg trying to get the measuring tape to stop wrapping around his thigh. "I wanted to be an Auror but I'm not going to get a high enough grade for Potions."
Andromeda huffed as she turned to Sirius. "You didn't contact me sooner to help him? What is wrong with you?"
Sirius gestured towards Andy while glancing over at Harry. "She's a potioneer at St. Mungo's," Sirius explained before glancing up at her. "A damn good one too."
Andromeda turned to Harry. "I know the O.W.L. exams are already over, but if you need help in N.E.W.T. level Potions, don't hesitate to send me an owl. You're my baby cousin's godson, so that makes you my family as well. Merlin knows that us few good Blacks have to stick together."
"Thank you," Harry replied in a sincere voice.
With a flick of her wrist, the measuring tape disappeared. She grabbed her pocketbook and the pouch of money off the table before she turned to Sirius.
"Before I go, I wanted to talk to you about something. I know that Marlene was found alive and well. I also heard from Nymphadora that you refuse to even see her," Andromeda commented.
Sirius could kill Dora right about now. How dare she tell Andromeda anything about him or Marlene? She was no doubt influenced by Remus.
"I'm not talking about this with you," Sirius said in a flat tone, leaving no room for discussion.
"I understand that she's had her memories twisted," Andromeda continued, ignoring him. "And that she's going by the name Bella Riddle. Hmm, who do we know who loves messing with minds and would be a big enough narcissist to name their victim after themselves?"
Sirius' jaw tightened. "I'm very well aware it was Bellatrix."
"Isn't that what she said she was going to do to you?" Andromeda barreled on.
Sirius had had enough. He pushed his chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the tile. He was not going to talk about the Christmas of his fifth year, not now, not ever, and especially not in front of Harry. Sirius pointed his finger at her, ignoring the gaping stare that Harry was giving him.
"Leave it, Andy," Sirius hissed. "I rue the fucking day I ever told you anything that happened."
"You could help her!" Andromeda protested. "You could have your life back!"
Sirius laughed, his head shaking. "Yeah, I could have my life back. That's fucking hilarious, you know that, right? I have a bounty over my head for thirteen murders I didn't commit. One of the victims isn't even ruddy dead! I'm stuck in a house I vowed to never return to. I've buried the only parents I ever knew, buried my only true brother and his wife, and have a godson who is wanted by a fucking psychopath! Nothing about my life right now is normal or easy and I certainly can't go back to the person I was fourteen years ago. That Sirius is dead. He died the summer his girlfriend was supposedly murdered. The nail in the coffin hit as soon as he saw his best mate cold on the fucking floor of his house. I can't have my life back, Andy, because that life doesn't fucking exist anymore."
Andromeda took a step back, her eyes growing misty. "Sirius."
"I SAID LEAVE IT!" Sirius shouted, his chest heaving.
Without another word, he stormed out of the kitchen. He couldn't stand there and listen to Andromeda act like everything could be roses once more. Storming up the stairs, he heard the front door open. Sirius caught sight of Remus and thought about throwing a punch but stopped himself.
"Are you all right?" Remus asked.
"Harry's in the kitchen," Sirius replied before he stormed upstairs towards his childhood bedroom.
Once there, he slammed his door shut before taking out his wand and casting a few privacy charms. Tossing his wand on the floor, he made his way over towards his bed. He punched the wall above his bedside table over and over again until there were several fist marks in the plaster. Then he decided to dismantle the fucking bed, kicking the wrought-iron until it bent. Sirius didn't even know he had been screaming until his throat started to ache.
Sirius took a few stumbling steps backward until he collided with the wall. He slid down and drew his knees to his chest. His head lulled back to rest against the plaster, his eyes staring at the blurry light on the ceiling. He tried to regulate his breathing but failed miserably.
Sliding his eyes shut, he only saw Marlene. She had been so full of life, funny and enchanting. Sirius had loved her in a way he had never loved another woman. Because he loved her, he had doomed her to a life as Bella Riddle. Sirius dug his palms into his eyes, watching as the phosphenes distorted Marlene. He couldn't think of her. It was better to convince himself that she was still dead and gone. Sirius needed not to feel, not to think, not to be anything. Transforming into Padfoot, he curled up into the tiniest ball possible and closed himself off to the world.
I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter! There will be NO new chapter next week because of the holiday. I will resume the following week. Don't forget to drop a review. They inspire me, motivate me, and just plain make all this hard work worth it.
Special thanks to Bell for being a fabulous editor and putting up with me.