"Brumous"
"Chapter Forty-Eight: The Proposal"
Sirius felt drained, mentally exhausted, and just in a bad fucking mood. Vernon and Petunia Dursleys' harsh words against Harry made his blood boil. He wanted to do more than just beat Vernon's face to a bloody pulp. Vernon deserved so much worse, what with his nonchalant way of talking about the punishments he gave Harry as a small child. Where had Sirius been? Locked up in Azkaban and talking to ghosts, too depressed to even think about anything except his grief instead of protecting his godson.
Sirius knew what it was like to have shitty parents. Walburga and Orion were rough on him, often locking him up and taking away meals as punishment. Out of sight and out of mind. He couldn't exasperate them if he wasn't around them. But he had never been hit as a small child. The closest physical punishment had been Stinging Hexes for not sitting up straight or not following proper etiquette. No, the more physical punishments from his parents came later when he was a mouthy teenager who made it his life's mission to press every single button he could.
Sirius also had his Uncle Alphard growing up who would spring him from his room and shield him from his parents' wrath. Uncle Alphard who made him sandwiches when he was denied food, who made sure to stay close to him when he was teetering on the edge of trouble, who reminded him to follow the rules until he was old enough to make his own rules. Harry didn't have that. He didn't have an uncle or cousins or anyone to protect him, unlike Sirius who at least had his uncle and Andromeda by his side. Harry had been alone. All alone. That made Sirius sick to his stomach after meeting with the Dursleys and realizing his godson's childhood was even worse than he thought.
If thoughts of a small toddler Harry being hurt wasn't enough to haunt his dreams and sour his mood, his complete and utter disrespect towards Marlene was just another thing to dwell on. He had tried to kiss her, acting like he was still her boyfriend on the verge of proposing. Sirius had lost himself, slipping into the past like it was second nature. It wouldn't have been a terrible thing… except that he was somewhat dating Tegan and turned Marlene down when she kissed him after regaining her memories.
Merlin, Sirius fucking hated his life sometimes.
When Friday rolled around, Sirius went straight to McGonagall's office to sign out the boys for the Christmas holiday. He arrived while classes were still going on, trying to avoid Marlene as much as possible. Letting himself into McGonagall's office, he scanned her bookshelf and made a mental note of a couple of titles he wanted to pick up later to read.
Sirius' gaze lingered on an old copy of Transfiguration Today from February of 1978. His fingers reached out for it and pulled it from the shelf, knowing exactly what he would find in the magazine. Swallowing, Sirius flipped through the pages until he came across an article entitled Trans-Species Transformation: A Study in Transforming the Brain by Minerva McGonagall and James Potter. Sirius could remember all the time James spent with McGonagall during their final year, having written the article after few years of research. James had been so damn excited about it, prattling on and on and on about it to the point where Sirius never understood why he didn't get a job doing something with Transfiguration research instead of drawing silly cartoons for Sleekeazy's.
Sirius skimmed the article, not understanding most of what it talked about. It was amazingly technical and Sirius had never been interested in that branch of Transfiguration. Flipping the page, Sirius stilled when he saw an old photo stuffed between the glossy pages. It was a picture of James and McGonagall standing behind of table of nearly a dozen animal brains.
"Making yourself at home, Mr Black?" McGonagall's voice rang behind him, sounding amused.
Sirius turned around, the magazine still in his hands. "I forgot about this," he said, holding the magazine up. "I learned more about brains that year than I ever cared to."
"James was exceptionally bright," McGonagall mused, her eyes staring at the magazine. "I never had a student who made me question so much about Transfiguration before. While we professors are not supposed to have favorites, I can safely say that he was easily in my top three."
Sirius smiled softly. "We all know he secured top spot after the two of you were published. The entire school knew."
"I will not confirm nor deny that," McGonagall replied with a knowing smile.
"I think I can safely say I was at the top of your least favorite list," Sirius mused, closing the magazine and putting it back where he found it.
McGonagall crossed the room, sitting her satchel down next to her desk. "You too were exceptionally bright with Transfiguration, Mr Black. You could have been published as well if you had any motivation or interest."
Sirius nodded, shoving his hands the pockets of his leather jacket. "Just wasn't in the cards for me, I suppose."
McGonagall looked up at him, her blue eyes filling with pity. "I daresay you had enough on your plate with your home life. It's a shame the Blacks were so petty and cruel. You could have been made quite the name for yourself if you had even half the support James did."
The Blacks had been too busy raising an heir and attempting to squash out any individuality left within Sirius. They wanted a shiny mouthpiece to spew their agenda, not a son. They didn't care what Sirius was interested in or what he liked. They didn't care what he believed or what he thought. His Uncle Alphard once told him opinions and curiosity were the traits the Black family hated the most. It was harder to control people then.
"I did make a name for myself," Sirius replied, a sneer working itself on his face. "Notorious mass murderer. Kind of catchy."
McGonagall didn't laugh or even give a hint of a smile. Sirius thought it funny.
"I worried Harry wouldn't have the support to be great like James had," McGonagall mused. "But times have changed and I think he has an excellent support system to achieve whatever he puts his mind to now. Although, I must express my sadness that his greatness will not fall into the realm of Transfiguration. He is far more apt in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He truly has a natural knack for it. Remus had been quite impressed when he taught him at thirteen. Although Severus would never admit it to his face, he did mutter a small bit of praise last year while Harry was running the D.A. I daresay, Severus was even impressed from the snippets we heard in hushed whispers in the corridors."
Sirius nodded. "He's quite a spectacular kid."
"How are things with you, Mr Black?" McGonagall pressed, her eyebrows knitting below her glasses.
"I'm fine," Sirius replied.
McGonagall pursed her lips to the side. "Marlene told me the two of you paid a visit to the Dursleys. I must admit, I'm not surprised at all by their attitude. Anyone with half a brain could see the moment Harry stepped into this castle that he had been abused. But there was nowhere for him to go besides back to the Dursleys every year. It was simply heartbreaking to watch him go, to know what laid at home for him. You could tell when his demeanor changed too at the end of the year, as though he were bracing himself to go back. He reminded me painfully of you, the anxiety of what could potentially go wrong evident in his demeanor. I'm glad he has you now. He no longer dreads going home, although he has been far clingier with Ginny Weasley this past week. They were caught quite a few times in broom cupboards."
Sirius let out a chuckle. Of course, Harry was snogging Ginny every second they had together. Sirius could tell the two were stepping out of the young and smitten stage and growing more serious. The way Harry talked about her clued Sirius in that Harry took the relationship seriously. Although, Sirius wasn't convinced Harry understood just how fast and hard he was falling for Ginny.
"I didn't know you talked to Marlene so much," Sirius replied.
"She needed support," McGonagall said in a sad tone. "The one person she wanted support from was nowhere to be found."
Sirius' face pulled. "She was hurt because of me."
"She was hurt because her father was the Deputy Head of the Auror Department. She was hurt because her entire family was in the Order of the Phoenix. She was hurt because of her close relationships with the Potters," McGonagall pressed, her chin tilting up. "What Bellatrix Lestrange did to her was far crueler than anything I could have ever imagined, but she's alive because of you. She's alive because Bellatrix wanted you to suffer through insurmountable guilt. You are letting Bellatrix win."
Sirius swallowed. "I'm with Tegan Robins now," he said, feeling wrong to be having this conversation with McGonagall of all people. Was he really that pathetic that so many people felt the need to point out his missteps in his personal life?
McGonagall arched an eyebrow. "Yes, anyone with two eyes can tell that you and Tegan have grown quite close. Just because you are dating Tegan doesn't mean you have to throw away any sort of friendship with Marlene. The two aren't mutually exclusive."
Sirius sucked in a breath, his head nodding as his mind buzzed.
"I don't want you to think I'm meddling, Sirius," McGonagall said in a soft tone. "I don't meddle. But I do hold you and Marlene in the highest of regards. The two of you have suffered more than is even fathomable. You both are trying so hard to do right by a sixteen-year-old who desperately needs the love and support you two are offering him. I applaud you both for everything you have done for Harry. But I'd hate to see the two of you suffer because you're both too scared of shadows lurking in the dark."
Sirius' lips parted, but he had nothing to say. Maybe he was scared. Scared of what Bellatrix might do to her if he became close to her again. Scared of what Voldemort would do to her if he kept denying to take the Mark. Scared of their relationship not being what it was before, of seeing how different they had both become. Scared that he'd fall back into old habits and lose her all over again.
A knock sounded. McGonagall called for them to enter. The door opened to reveal Harry and Cepheus in their winter coats and duffle bags at their sides. They were laughing, talking about something involving Ron. When Harry caught sight of Sirius, a wide grin broke across his face as he closed the space between them. Sirius pulled him into his arms, pressing a hand against his messy hair and holding him close. Cepheus lingered, a tight smile on his lips. Sirius hated how hesitant his nephew was with him. If only he could kill Malfoy twice.
Sirius signed the boys out of school, dodging questions from Harry about why his left hand was swollen and red since Sirius hadn't bothered to have a professional fix it and tried mending it himself. He didn't want to sour the holidays by telling the kid he had confronted the Dursleys and, subsequently, lost his bloody temper. Nor did he want to admit that there had been any awkwardness between him and Marlene that night. Harry had already been struggling to understand his fuck-buddy relationship with Tegan. He didn't need Harry to think he was perfectly happy to be a cheater as well, because Sirius wasn't. It had been a mistake.
Sirius had always been very good at making mistakes. While Harry attracted trouble, Sirius attracted mistakes.
The weekend went by fast. Harry and Cepheus stayed up into the late hours of the night playing Exploding Snap and Gobstones. They laughed loudly, eating more than their weight in crisps and sweets as well as drinking more fizzy drinks than Sirius could keep in the house. There was an ease between the two teenagers as though they both instantly understood one another. Sirius thought it was because they both craved a large family their entire lives and they weren't going to let the opportunity pass them up.
Sirius tried to give the boys some space to bond during their late-night game sessions, locking himself up in the study to read his books about snake healing potions and Horcruxes in peace. But the boys' voices carried throughout the house and he often found himself moseying into the parlor and just watching them.
Sometimes, in the late hours of the night, when Sirius could barely keep his eyes open, it looked like himself and James sitting on the floor laughing instead of Cepheus and Harry. That's when Sirius knew he had to go to bed, forcing the boys to turn in as well.
Luckily, Andromeda kept them well-stocked with food. She dropped by a bunch of lunches and dinners with pieces of parchment attached to them with very specific directions on how to heat the food up. Annoyingly enough, Harry hovered close by to ensure he didn't fuck it up. Sirius could follow ruddy instructions, after all. Besides, if he did muck it up, he could just grab some takeaway quickly for the three of them.
Slowly, Cepheus seemed to relax around Sirius. Though Sirius' relationship with him wasn't anywhere near as close as his relationship was with Harry, Sirius thought it was a step in the right direction. His nephew willingly talked to him and didn't stiffen when left alone in the same room as him. But Cepheus preferred Harry's company over Sirius'. Honestly, Sirius was all right with that. At least he had someone.
On Sunday morning, Andromeda and Ted stopped by the house to spend the morning with Cepheus while Sirius took Harry to his dueling lesson with the Aurors. The only problem was, Harry was having a lie-in and they needed to leave before they were late. Waking up his godson was a new one. Normally, Harry was an early riser. But staying up late with Cepheus and then chatting with Ginny on the mirror until the wee hours of the morning didn't help his sleeping habits.
"Harry," Sirius whispered from the doorway. "Harry."
Harry groaned, rolling over in his bed and pulling the blankets over his head. With a sigh, Sirius entered the room and made his way over to the bed. He grabbed the blankets and pulled them off his godson who let out the loudest groan Sirius had ever heard in his life.
"Come on, kid, we're going to be late," Sirius said, pressing a hand against Harry's messy head.
"No," Harry mumbled, rolling onto his stomach and burying his head into his pillow.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oi, come on, Harry, we're going to be late! Get the bloody hell out of bed!"
"It's Christmas," Harry mumbled.
"Yeah, no it's not," Sirius replied, trying not to let his irritation show. "I'm pretty sure the paper said it was the twenty-second."
Harry didn't say anything. Sirius wrapped his fingers around his arm and rolled the kid onto his back. Harry grumbled, squinting up at Sirius.
"Out of bed. Now," Sirius said in a stern voice. "I'm not going to ask you again."
An odd look crossed Harry's face but he didn't say anything. Instead, he grabbed his glasses and rose from bed before he walked past Sirius towards the loo.
Somehow, they weren't late to Sutton's house. But Harry had to eat his breakfast on the go, munching on a croissant as they walked down the snowy lane from the Apparition point to the house. Sirius held two cups of coffee in his hands, handing one to Harry once he was finished eating.
The dueling lesson was a tad bit different. They were focusing on partner work and having someone's back during a duel. Sirius thought it was good for Harry to get a bit of team work in, figure out how to work with someone. It had been something Fleamont had harped on with him and James, teaching them how to work together instead of separately.
Gawain and Sutton paired together while Harry partnered with Tegan. Sirius stared at Tegan, watching as she laughed and chatted with Harry across the garden. She adjusted his grip, smiled at him, and was generally softer with him than Gawain had ever been. Harry had always seemed to like Tegan more than the other Aurors. Sirius couldn't blame him. Tegan was kind and patient.
Not for the first time, Sirius couldn't help the inner turmoil churning in the pit of his stomach. He should be happy with Tegan, the two growing closer and closer over the months where the lines blurred between a spot of fun and an actual relationship. Sirius honestly and truly cared about her. She was a breath of fresh air in his anxiety-fueled life. And yet, there was one very big problem with Tegan. One he had just begun to see.
She wasn't Marlene.
Sirius had no interest in telling Tegan about his true parentage, to tell her a bunch of sob stories from his childhood, to share the horrible guilt he felt surrounding James and Lily's deaths, nor his guilt about Harry's childhood. He didn't want to tell her about how James Potter's ghost visited him nearly nightly in Azkaban. He sure as fuck didn't want to tell her all about his damn pet snake and how he could talk to dead people in his dreams.
But he wanted to tell Marlene. He wanted her to tell him what it all meant. He wanted her to assure him that he did the best he could. Because Marlene just got it. He wouldn't even need to say everything, for she could predict what he was going to say before he said it. She knew him better than anyone still alive, which was saying a lot because he felt like he had changed drastically since twenty-one.
Sirius looked up at the sky, his gaze lingering on the clouds above. He let the silence wash over him, trying not to think about Marlene or Tegan. Although, it was admittedly hard given that Tegan was currently spending time with his godson. Sirius wasn't paying attention to the duel. He just couldn't. His mind raced with thoughts and feelings that he didn't know how to sort out or categorize. He had always been shit with feelings.
"What the fuck was that?" Gawain hollered.
Sirius snapped his attention down to see Gawain red in the face. Harry stood frozen across from him with wide eyes.
"That could get someone fucking killed, you idiot!" Gawain seethed.
"I'm sorry!" Harry said, taking a step back.
Sirius stepped off the back deck, his lips parting to tell Gawain to lay the fuck off. Before he could, Tegan stepped in front of Harry.
"Stop it!" Tegan hissed. "What the bloody hell is your problem today?"
"He can't just fucking intercept like that!" Gawain hollered, his finger pointing in Harry's direction. "That's a spell that could have ricocheted! It would have been deadly in a confined space!"
"He's sixteen!" Tegan shouted back, her eyes widening. "He's not an Auror you can rip to shreds! He's a kid! He's learning! That's the entire point of this!"
"I didn't know!" Harry cried, his chest heaving.
"Yeah, clearly you don't know what the fuck you're doing!" Gawain hissed.
"Oi!" Sirius shouted, his jaw tightening as he made his way across the garden towards Harry. "Fuck off, Gawain!"
Gawain snapped his attention to Sirius. "He's sloppy!"
"Yeah, and you're a wanking cockwomble!" Sirius snapped back.
Having reached Harry, Sirius wrapped a protective arm around the kid and pulled him close. Harry trembled against him, not caving to the comfort.
"Were you even paying attention, Black?" Gawain continued. "Or were you too busy eye-fucking my best friend again?"
Sirius' gaze snapped to Tegan, his grip tightening around Harry. He wasn't eye-fucking Tegan, nor did he ever eye-fuck her. Whatever the ruddy hell that meant. Sirius ground his molars together, his eyes flickering back to Gawain.
"Merlin, what the fuck crawled up your arse and died today?" Tegan snapped, throwing her arms up.
Sirius felt a wave of appreciation wash over him for Tegan. She was standing up for Harry as much as Sirius would. She was not letting Gawain get away with his grumpier than normal attitude.
Gawain scoffed, his head shaking. "We're supposed to get this kid ready to fight in a fucking war and he doesn't have a clue what to do in an actual fucking battle!"
"He's sixteen!" Tegan cried. "If I remember correctly, at sixteen you weren't taking classes that taught Auror level dueling! In fact, our first fucking year of training, when you were two whole years older than Harry now, you nearly flunked the practical exam!"
"Fuck off, Tegan!" Gawain hissed, his hands resting on his hips.
"You trained hard. There were senior Aurors who saw potential in you," Tegan barreled on. "Now look at you! You're the best dueler in the department and Head Auror to boot! But at sixteen, you weren't anywhere near this level. Harry is leagues above where you were at his age. Instead of knocking him down, you should be a fucking mentor and encourage him!"
Gawain didn't say anything, his tongue peeking out to lick his bottom lip. Sirius waited for Gawain to apologize, to say anything, but no words escaped.
"You don't speak to him like that," Sirius said in a dangerously low voice. "So help me, Gawain, if talk to my godson like that again then I will lose my fucking shit on you. Do you hear me?"
Gawain snorted, his eyes rolling.
"I SAID DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?" Sirius shouted, his voice booming in the back garden.
Sirius' chest heaved, his teeth clenching so tight that his jaw ached. While Sutton flinched and Tegan jumped at the volume of Sirius' voice, Gawain looked unimpressed. Instead, Gawain and Sirius just stared at each other, neither one daring to blink.
"You don't intimidate me, Sirius," Gawain said in a lazy tone. "What are you going to do? Really? Kill me? Oh, I'm shaking in my bloody boots. Others may be fooled by your perceived unhinged demeanor, but you and I both know that you won't do shit."
Sirius' arm dropped from Harry's shoulder as he took a couple of steps closer to Gawain.
"Do you want to test that fucking theory?" Sirius said in a low tone. "Because let me tell you, Gawain, when I slit Lucius Malfoy's throat, I enjoyed it. I smiled. I was elated that I was the one who got to kill him."
"Oh, do you want a fucking medal?" Gawain snapped. "You killed a Death Eater and were happy about it. Big whoop."
While Sirius wouldn't kill Gawain, he did want to punch him in his ugly fucking mug. Taking another step forward, Sirius curled his fingers tight. He just needed one good punch to wipe that smug look off his face.
"Enough!" Tegan cried, stepping in front of Sirius and placing her hands on his chest. "Step back, Sirius!"
Sirius sneered down at her. "You heard the way he talked to a sixteen-year-old kid! My sixteen-year-old kid!"
Tegan raised her eyebrows. "Let me deal with it, all right? You don't need to resort to violence every time you get upset."
Sirius rolled his eyes, his head snapping back to look at the sky. Tegan's hands left his chest as she turned around.
"I get you're stressed, Gawain," Tegan started. "We're all bloody stressed! But you can't take your frustrations out on Harry!"
Gawain nodded, his jaw jutting to the side. "I need to go. I have a pile of twenty-three murder cases on my desk that I need to pass out to teams to investigate. Not to mention, I have an additional thirty-seven murder cases that I have to check in on to see if we have any leads, though that's doubtful. I have Scrimgeour breathing down my fucking neck to make some arrests, but we aren't making any fucking headway to the point where I'm convinced there are several ruddy spies in the Auror Department. So, I don't have time to teach a kid how to fight, especially when his fucking guardian loses his shit at some fucking tough love."
Tegan sighed. "Gawain."
Gawain didn't reply. He stormed out of the back garden. Sirius run a frustrated hand through his hair as Tegan stormed past him. Turning around, he watched as Tegan stepped up to miserable-looking Harry. She immediately placed her hands on his arms.
"Hey, you are doing wonderfully," Tegan said in a kind voice. "Your spells are stronger than they were a few months ago. I barely have to correct your grip. You've made so much progress with nonverbal spells. You are doing great, Harry, truly. I am constantly impressed by you."
Harry nodded.
"Gawain is rough, far rougher than he needs to be," Tegan added. "Don't let him get to you. He's a grump, all right? He's very stressed right now with everything going on with the war. While that's not an excuse to talk to you like that, I hope you won't hold it against him. He has talked very fondly about you with me. I think sometimes he forgets how young you are."
Sirius couldn't help but stare at Harry and Tegan. The warm way she talked to him, her reassuring words, the way Harry seemed to listen to what she had to say. Tegan was simply perfect. Yet, for some bloody stupid reason, she wasn't perfect for Sirius. He really, really wished she was, especially seeing how amazing she was with Harry.
"I'm really sorry, Mrs Robins," Harry said in a miserable tone. "I thought I was blocking the spell and helping you. I didn't think about the ricochet effect it'd have."
"That's why we duel outside in the freezing cold," Tegan said in a light tone. "Don't sweat it, Harry, all right? You're doing great. I promise. I wouldn't say that if I didn't truly believe it. I wouldn't keep coming every single week if I didn't think you weren't worth the effort."
A soft smile crossed Harry's face, some of the tension seeming to leave his shoulders. Sirius made his way over towards them, his fingers clamping down on Harry's shoulder. The kid looked up at him.
"Tegan's right," Sirius said in a gruff voice. "You're doing amazing. Don't let Gawain get you down."
"Okay," Harry whispered.
"I'll talk to him," Tegan added. "He needs to cool it a bit with you."
Harry turned his attention to Tegan. "Thanks, Mrs Robins."
Tegan smiled. "Tegan! Merlin, Harry, please, call me Tegan!"
"Sorry, Tegan," Harry added in a sheepish tone.
"All right, let's get back to work," Tegan said as she turned around. "Oi, Sutton, you ready? Want to do a three-way duel? Two against one?"
"Whose team am I on?" Sutton asked. "I want Harry. He's a fucking savage."
Tegan laughed, turning back to Harry. "See, it's not just me who knows you're brilliant! Honestly, if you were outnumbered in a confined space, ricocheting spells isn't a bad thing if you can shield yourself."
"Go on, kid," Sirius said, giving Harry's shoulder a final squeeze before he let you. "You're doing fine."
Sirius watched Tegan and Harry settle into their positions. Harry slipped right back into dueling, maintaining a strong shield and performing some nonverbal spells. Sirius' eyes flickered over to Tegan. He didn't want to let her go, knowing how great of a woman she was. But he knew he had to. He had to break it off with her. He couldn't string her along knowing that he wasn't completely over Marlene. Honestly, it wasn't fair to Tegan or Marlene. Sirius was very acutely aware that he didn't deserve either of them.
Harry tried not to let Gawain Robards ruin his first holiday with a real family. But Harry couldn't help but think about how grossly unprepared he was for what lay ahead of him. He didn't know enough to make a big impact or win a duel against skilled duelists. Harry couldn't help but think he'd be dead in an instant if he dueled Voldemort. While Sirius and Mrs Robins were encouraging and told him how advanced he was for his age, it still wasn't enough. They were at war and Harry had to be better than he was.
Harry pushed his food around on his plate at dinner that night, thinking about ricocheting spells and confined spaces while Cepheus chatted his ear off. Although, Harry couldn't concentrate on what Cepheus was saying. Stealing a glance across the table, Harry noticed Sirius watching him closely. Sirius lifted his glass to his lips, his eyes never leaving Harry.
After dinner, Harry found himself in a makeshift training room with Cepheus. Sirius had blasted down a wall to make the room bigger, but he didn't get around to fixing the plaster or the floor. There were a few dueling dummies but, other than that, the room was bare. Harry rolled his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension from earlier.
"I think it's wicked that you get private lessons from the Aurors," Cepheus said. "I was always pants of Defense."
Harry's lips pulled. "Well, I never really had a choice. I had to be good at it."
Cepheus squirmed, shooting Harry an apologetic look. "I didn't… I mean, I wasn't–"
"Don't worry about it," Harry interrupted. "You don't know what's been happening here."
"I mean, I can guess," Cepheus retorted, tapping his wand against his thigh. "Have you, have you ever experienced the Cruciatus Curse?"
Harry's insides twisted, remembering the white-hot pain that had stabbed every single surface of his body. "Yeah, I have."
Cepheus nodded, his face twisting. "Malfoy cast it on me a few times. The first time he did it, he wore Uncle Sirius' face."
Bile rose in Harry's throat. No wonder he was always so hesitant around Sirius.
"Sirius doesn't hurt people for fun," Harry reasoned, his arms crossing over his chest. "He's not like that."
Cepheus nodded. "I understand that. Sometimes, I'm good with him. But other times, I remember the look on his face when he hurt me. And it's hard to remember that wasn't him right away. He's been nothing but kind to me. He didn't have to adopt me or buy me this wand or get my things from France or any of it. But he did. And from what I'm starting to realize, he did it even though he hated my dad."
Harry frowned. "I don't think he hated your dad. I just think they were different people and they struggled to get along when their… worldviews didn't match."
Cepheus laughed, his eyebrows raising. "That's a nice way to say my dad was a blood-supremacist wanker."
Harry leaned against the wall, sucking in a deep breath. "You know, Sirius' friend once told me that when he first met Sirius, he didn't know Mudblood was a bad word," he started, thinking of the conversation he had with Remus over the summer. "It wasn't until Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor and met Muggleborns, half-bloods, and purebloods who didn't hold those ideas that his thinking started to shift and change. Regulus never had that opportunity. He was constantly surrounded by blood purists so no one could educate him. Sirius said before that he was very sheltered as a kid, only allowed to mingle with other approved pureblood families."
"So, Uncle Sirius became a better person but not my dad because of who they chose to associate with at school?" Cepheus said, his brows furrowing. "That seems so stupid, Harry. He should have known it was wrong."
Harry shrugged. "I think if you'd meet Walburga, you'd understand why he turned out the way he did."
Cepheus sighed. "Walburga's my grandmother, right?"
"Nasty woman," Harry added with a nod. "Her portrait spews a bunch of hateful rhetoric nonstop. She's really nasty towards Sirius. But she liked Regulus apparently, so maybe she wouldn't say anything to you."
Cepheus tapped the tip of his slipper into the old hardwood floor. "That'd probably be even worse if she liked me."
Harry silently agreed. But even if she liked Cepheus, it wouldn't be because he was a good person. It would be because he was a pureblood and the child of her favorite son. An idea sparked in his mind. While Cepheus couldn't meet Walburga, he could meet Kreacher. Harry had heard Kreacher singing Regulus' praises before.
"Do you, err, do you want to meet Kreacher?" Harry asked in a soft voice. "He's the old Black family house-elf. He regurgitates a lot of Walburga's hate speech, but he always talks fondly of your dad. I'm hoping he'll get over some of his… well, his hatred for certain people and ideas. He doesn't know any better, but Sirius won't take the time to change his mind."
"Really?" Cepheus asked, seemingly interested. "Yeah, sure."
Harry dashed over to the door, making sure to lock it and then cast privacy charms on it. Sirius said he needed to pay some bills and then he'd be up to help train them. The last thing Harry wanted was to have Sirius angry that Kreacher was in the new house.
"Kreacher," Harry called.
A pop sounded and Kreacher appeared before him looking positively irritated. Harry smiled at him. Kreacher scowled back. Harry was determined to win the house-elf over, though he wasn't quite sure why he cared.
"Master Harry called," Kreacher said, peering at him curiously. "Does master need Kreacher to take him to the Weasley girl again?"
Harry's eyes flickered to Cepheus. "Err, no, and remember, we don't mention that to anyone."
"Kreacher would never," Kreacher replied, offended. "Kreacher lives to serve the ancient and most noble house of Black… and it's adopted child not by blood."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Kreacher, I wanted you to meet someone."
"Kreacher does not like meeting people," Kreacher replied.
"I think you might like to meet him," Harry pressed, gesturing behind Kreacher towards Cepheus. "His name's Cepheus. His parents are Regulus Black and Charlotte Macnair."
Kreacher turned around slowly. Whatever reaction Harry thought Kreacher would have, it certainly wasn't falling on the floor and sobbing. Harry snapped his attention to Cepheus who didn't know what to do just as much as Harry didn't. More than anything, Harry was glad he placed the privacy charms on the room given Kreacher's reaction.
"Err, Kreacher, can you…" Harry trailed off, realizing how harsh it sounded to tell him to stop crying.
"It's all right!" Cepheus exclaimed. "No need to cry! I'm right here!"
Kreacher sniffed, his head looking up at stare at Cepheus. "Oh, Master Regulus was a good wizard. The best wizard. Master Regulus was kind. Too kind."
Cepheus crossed the room, kneeling down in front of Kreacher and patting him on his head between his floppy ears. "Harry told me you really liked my dad."
Kreacher nodded fervently. "Master Regulus was a good wizard. Far kinder than his brother," he spat out the word brother like it was the nastiest word he could ever say. "Master Sirius is nothing compared to Master Regulus."
"Kreacher, you're not supposed to talk ill of Sirius anymore," Harry snapped. "That was an order."
A low growl emitted in the back of Kreacher's throat. "Kreacher said nothing nasty about Master Sirius."
Harry rolled his eyes again. There was always a loophole with Kreacher.
"I like Uncle Sirius," Cepheus said in a soft voice, picking at a piece of imaginary lint on his trousers. "If it wasn't for him, I'd still be locked up in a dungeon being tortured. Maybe even be dead. He's not so bad once you get to know him."
Kreacher gave one giant nod. "Kreacher supposes Master Sirius does do some things right."
Harry suspected that was the biggest compliment Sirius would ever receive from Kreacher. Too bad Sirius would never hear it. Though, Harry didn't think that would really change anything. Sirius would still hate him.
Cepheus laughed. "You're quite charming, aren't you? What did Uncle Sirius do to make you not like him?"
Kreacher cast a quick glance at Harry before looking back to Cepheus. "Kreacher is bound to answer honestly. Kreacher thinks the mere fact that Master Sirius exists is cause enough not to like him."
"Kreacher," Harry said in a warning voice.
"Kreacher was asked a question by Master Cepheus. Kreacher needed to answer honestly," the elf reiterated in a stubborn voice.
"It wouldn't kill you to try with Sirius," Harry argued.
Kreacher peered at Harry but didn't say anything. Probably for the best. Kreacher turned slowly back to Cepheus, tears welling in his big eyes. Cepheus only shifted, looking awkward. He had obviously never been around house-elves much, if at all.
The doorknob to the room jiggled. "Oi! Why is this locked?"
Harry turned to Kreacher. "Go, you were never here!"
Kreacher disappeared with a pop. Harry dashed over to the door, taking down the charms before opening it. He offered a very concerned Sirius a sheepish smile.
"Sorry, must have locked it by mistake," Harry said.
Sirius peered at him, his eye flickering behind him to Cepheus. "You boys all right?"
"Brilliant," Harry replied quickly. "We were just about ready start practicing on the dummies. Want to join?"
Sirius' brows tugged down. "Nah, you boys can have fun. But keep the door open, yeah? I like to hear the two of you so I don't worry."
"We were just trying to be quiet," Harry replied. "But we'll be extra loud from now on."
Sirius sucked in a breath. "Right. Yeah. Uh… anyway, Andromeda put us in charge of bringing the tarts for Christmas Eve. I can order some or if you want to try to bake them, we can."
Harry couldn't help but laugh. "I can bake them. That's fine. Do you have the stuff?"
"I can get it," Sirius replied, leaning against the doorjamb. "I can also help."
"Sirius, come on," Harry reasoned, his head cocking to the side.
Sirius shot him a look. "I'm not completely useless, you know. You measure everything and I'll stir. I'd use a ladle, right?"
Harry laughed. "Yeah, a ladle. That's perfect."
"You're a little shit, you know that?" Sirius said in a fond tone. "I'll grab the ingredients later and we'll bake tomorrow. Sound good?"
Harry's brow furrowed. "Do you even know what you're buying?"
"I found your grandmother's old cookbook at the Hollow," Sirius explained. "It's in the kitchen. I'll use that. I thought we could do a treacle tart and then your grandmother used to make this peppermint tart that was amazing. If you're interested."
His grandmother's peppermint tart? Excitement burst in his chest to taste a bit of a Potter Christmas.
"Definitely, yeah," Harry replied, a smile spreading across his lips.
Sirius looked beyond Harry. "Oi, Cepheus, any French dessert you want to take? We can do something that's like home for you."
"If we're in charge of tarts, we can do a Tarte au Citron," Cepheus said. "It's a lemon tart, basically."
"Uh, yeah, I know what that is. I've had that before. Let me figure it out," Sirius replied, his head nodding. "The Blacks have French roots so I'll contact Andy and see if she has a recipe for it."
"You could ask Kreacher," Harry suggested. "If he made it for you when you were a kid, then he'll know how to make it."
Sirius let out a bark-like laugh. "Yeah, over my dead fucking body."
"Sirius," Harry pressed.
"I'll call Andy on the mirror now," Sirius ignored Harry. "She took the entire week off from work."
Harry sighed as Sirius disappeared from the doorway. Turning around, Harry caught Cepheus' eye. A reserved smile crossed Cepheus' face.
"I used to bake with my mum," Cepheus said in a tight tone, his eyes growing watery in an instant. "I'd like to help."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like fun. Just… don't trust Sirius with anything other than stirring."
Cepheus chuckled. "Yeah, I've kind of picked up on the fact that he's abysmal in the kitchen."
"You have no idea," Harry added as he crossed the room. "If it wasn't for Andy sending over meals, he'd be making us ham and mustard sandwiches all holiday."
"That sounds… terrible," Cepheus replied, his head shaking.
Harry shrugged. "It's the thought that counts. He really does try."
The rest of the evening, Harry and Cepheus practiced Defensive spells. Or, rather, they half practiced and half talked. Cepheus wasn't exactly interested in dueling, but Harry could tell he was trying so the two of them could spend time together. Harry appreciated the sentiment more than he could even describe.
Remus hated to admit it, but Ginny and her friends had some nice proposal ideas. As he sat on the sofa waiting for Nymphadora to finish getting ready for their date, he wished he hadn't kicked them out of the classroom so soon. He should have listened to more of what they had to say. But he did make sure he wasn't wearing a cardigan with patched elbows. Instead, he wore a new collared shirt with a jumper over top. He did, in fact, write and practice a little speech. Lastly, he would buy Nymphadora flowers at the Christmas Market.
He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, his gaze lingering on the hallway that led to their bedroom where Nymphadora was getting ready. Their bedroom. Remus couldn't even remember the last time he slept at his cottage. He has stopped by to make sure it was still standing and to grab some things, but it was nothing more than storage at this point. Nymphadora's flat had become his home.
Nymphadora appeared in a red plaid skirt, a ripped band t-shirt from a band Remus had never heard of before, and a leather jacket that Sirius had bought her for her birthday. She had on black combat boots and fishnet stockings. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Remus couldn't keep the warm smile off his face.
Nymphadora smirked at him. "Look at us. We make quite the odd pair," she said as she pressed a hand to his jumper and frowned. "No cardigan?"
Remus shrugged. "Thought I'd try something new."
"I like your little cardigans," Nymphadora pouted. "They scream Remus Lupin."
Remus laughed. "I don't know whether or not to be offended that cardigans with patched elbows scream my name."
"Oh, definitely not offended," Nymphadora replied, her hands pressing on either side of his cheeks. "Kiss me."
Remus bent down, pressing his lips against hers. His body tingled from his lips down to toes as his chest expanded. For a few brief moments, he forgot about how nervous he was to propose. Because surely, if she kissed him like that than she wouldn't turn him down.
Nymphadora pulled back, her nose scrunching up. "Are you wearing cologne?"
"Do you not like it?" Remus pressed.
Nymphadora narrowed her eyes. "Okay, what's up? Why are you wearing little jumpers and putting on cologne? You're all clean-shaven too! And… did you get a haircut?"
Remus raised his eyebrows. "Merlin, do I never look nice when we go out or something?"
"You just don't look like you!" Nymphadora exclaimed.
Remus didn't know what to say to that. Maybe he shouldn't have taken the girls' advice. Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, he cocked his head to the side.
"Do you want to go to the Christmas market or do you want to tell me how much you hate my jumper some more?" Remus asked in a light tone.
"I don't hate the jumper," Nymphadora replied as she picked off a piece of lint from said jumper. "I just miss the little patched elbows. They're so cute and so you. I never met someone who looked so sexy wearing a cardigan before."
Remus chuckled, his lips curving. "Do you want me to change?"
Nymphadora hummed. "No, you don't have to. But when we get home, if you wanted to ditch all your clothes expect for a cardigan, I would not complain."
Remus laughed. "I don't even think you're joking."
"I'm really not," Nymphadora assured him in a serious tone.
Remus bent down for another kiss, smiling against her lips. They grabbed their jackets, scarves, and hats before exiting the flat. Nymphadora morphed her hair to her classic Black look as to not drawn attention to them in public and have their night ruined if they're seen by any Death Eaters out and about. Though Remus doubted any would be lurking around a Muggle Christmas market.
The Christmas market was busy. People were everywhere. Remus made sure to keep a tight hold of Nymphadora's hand as they bought sweets, food, and trinkets. It was then that Remus realized that Nymphadora hadn't even started her Christmas shopping yet and it was two days before Christmas. She bought Andromeda a handmade necklace and earring set. She selected a wool scarf for her dad. She bought personalized and matching yellow thermoses for Sirius, Harry, and Cepheus.
"For their coffee because they're maniacs who like coffee and not tea. Of course, if I'm representing Gryffindor for Harry's games, they can represent Hufflepuff while they drink their insanely disgusting drink," Nymphadora explained as they waited for the vendor to personalize their names on the items. "Besides, what do you get Sirius? A man who has more money than Merlin himself? I don't think he's ever wore the leather gloves I bought him for his birthday. May as well go a different route."
"It's a thoughtful gift," Remus assured him, giving her hand a squeeze. "It's nice they'll all match too."
Nymphadora rested her chin against Remus' arm. "What did you get them?"
"Well, Sirius and I don't exchange gifts so nothing for him," Remus explained. "I bought Harry a set of advanced Defense books. Then, Cepheus, I mean, I don't really know him but I can't just give Harry something on Christmas and not him, so I just bought him some sweets from a French bakery to remind him of home."
"What'd you get Mum and Dad?" Nymphadora asked, her lips twisting.
"I got your mother a set of cookbooks and your dad, well," Remus let out a small chuckle. "He mentioned how he hasn't played cricket in years, so I got him a new bat."
Nymphadora beamed up at him. "What did you get me?"
Remus laughed. "I'm not so easily manipulated."
Nymphadora let out a playful whine but didn't say anything. Once the thermoses were done, Nymphadora and Remus tried to find a secluded spot so they could shrink all their bags and consolidate. Remus checked his watch. They had another forty-five minutes before they had to be across the market for their horse-drawn carriage ride.
So, they moseyed down that way. Nymphadora stopped to buy two minced pies that they would have to figure out how to store in their bag.
"Mum asked me to bring mince pies for Christmas Eve," Nymphadora commented with a shrug. "Think we can fool her and say we cooked them ourselves?"
Remus laughed. "Well, you're not worse than Sirius at cooking so maybe."
Nymphadora knocked her hip against his. "Plus, I have a secret weapon."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"
Nymphadora grinned. "I have you."
Remus laughed, bending down to capture her lips against his. Another secluded spot and they placed the pies in the expanded bag, trying not to squish them with all their other goodies. They browsed all the booths, buying handmade ornaments for their rather bare tree at home. When they stopped at a flower booth, Remus bought Nymphadora a single poinsettia blossom that he attempted to place behind her ear and keep secure by her beanie hat.
They arrived a few minutes early to the carriage and Nymphadora's eyes lit up when he gestured towards it. He stepped up first before he helped her up. There was a wool blanket for them to keep warm under as well as a bottle of wine and two glasses. Remus had, of course, paid extra for it. He didn't even need teenage girls to tell him to include wine, so Remus felt rather chuffed when Nymphadora snuggled into his side and sipped her drink.
Remus rubbed his hand along his pocket to feel the box of the ring. At least he hadn't lost it. His insides twisted with nerves as they weaved their way through town. Nymphadora excitedly pointed out some fairy lights that caught her eye, naturally tending to like the brightly colored ones. Remus could only smile and nod, his nerves overtaking him. The closer they got to the pre-discussed Christmas tree where the proposal was to take place, the sicker Remus felt. What if she said no? How was he supposed to tell Sirius and Harry that there would be no wedding? Why did he even tell people in the first place before he did it?
Nymphadora's hand touched his knee. "Are you all right? Did you have too many sweets?"
"I'm fine," Remus managed to get out.
Nymphadora only furrowed her brows. "I thought you could hold your chocolate with the way you eat it," she teased but Remus couldn't smile.
Remus vaguely wondered if James had been so sick when he proposed to Lily. Surely, after she had turned him down a handful of times to even go on a date with him, he must have been petrified to ask her to marry him. While he had heard all about the proposal, James never talked about his nerves at all.
The carriage stopped in front of the tree. Nymphadora craned her neck as though she was trying to see if something had blocked their way. Remus turned towards her, his hands gathering up hers in his.
"I love you," Remus said lamely, and he couldn't for the life of him remember the next sentence of his speech so he had to dig deep in the moment. "You're so, so happy and vibrant and smart and funny and beautiful. You make me want to do something other than wallow in everything that has gone wrong in the world. I feel happy and whole while I'm around you."
"Remus?" Nymphadora whispered, her eyes widening.
Suddenly, Remus remembered, he should probably be on one knee. He awkwardly slid off the seat and onto his knee. One of his hands left hers so he could reach into his pocket for the ring box.
"I can't imagine living another day without you by my side," he continued. "Quite frankly, I don't even want to think about that. I love you, Dora. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, trying to make you happy. Will you marry me?"
Remus held the ring out to her. Nymphadora looked at him, not moving. Then, Remus felt like a moron. He opened the ring box to show her the actual ring.
"YES!" Nymphadora squealed. "Yes. Yes. Yes. A million times yes!"
Nymphadora slid off the seat and sat on her knees in front of him. Remus grinned as he carefully took the ring out and slid it on her finger. Tears poured down her face as she pressed her palms on either side of his face and kissed him. Remus wanted to scream, to cry, to tell everyone that this amazing woman actually wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Him. Of all fucking people.
Nymphadora pulled back, a wide grin on her face. "How long have you been planning this?"
Remus shrugged. "Months. I had no idea how to even propose and then Ginny and her friends–"
"Ginny and her friends?" Nymphadora repeated with a chuckle.
Remus wanted to melt into the fucking floor. "Don't be angry."
"I'm not angry, I'm bloody well intrigued!" Nymphadora replied.
"Well, I told Sirius and Harry about this," Remus started.
"Sirius knew?" Nymphadora exclaimed. "That git didn't tell me anything! I'm his bloody cousin!"
Remus let out a little chuckle. "Yeah, but, err, anyway, Harry told Ginny. Ginny told her friends. Then, somehow, I'm getting proposal advice from a bunch of fifteen-year-old girls."
Nymphadora laughed. "That's amazing! They helped you plan this?"
Remus wasn't going to tell her that they literally planned almost every single detail. "A little," he lied.
Nymphadora beamed at him, her eyes dropping back to the ring to inspect it.
"It's my mother's ring," Remus whispered. "Well, the big diamond in the middle is and the band. I added the two pink stones to make it more you."
"I love it," Nymphadora whispered as she looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. "And I love you."
Remus grinned, leaning forward to kiss her again. His heart burst with joy and he couldn't remember a time he had been happier in his entire life. He was loved and wanted. He felt like his life was finally falling into place. Remus never wanted the moment to end.
Sirius watched as Harry and Cepheus baked the tarts. Ingredients were spread across all the counters, as well as tart tins and other kitchen utensils. Euphemia's cookbook sat open on a little stand. Next to it, was a piece of parchment with Sirius' writing on it with a recipe for Cepheus' lemon tart that Andromeda had given him. She had easily caved and called for Kreacher, asking nicely for the recipe in a way that made Sirius roll his eyes.
With coffee in one hand and a spatula in the other, Sirius waited to be told what to do. He took a small sip as he hit the spatula against his thigh. Harry seemed well-apt in the kitchen, which Sirius knew from the time he spent in France cooking and baking with Andromeda over the summer. Sirius couldn't help but wonder how many times Harry was forced to cook for the Dursleys and not be able to taste the fruits of his labor. Clenching his jaw, Sirius fantasized about turning Vernon Dursley into a cockroach and then stomping on him repeatedly to murder him.
Harry sat a bowl of ingredients for the lemon tart in front of Sirius, his face grimacing as though he didn't trust Sirius anywhere near his tart. "You sure you want to stir? Cepheus can do it."
Sirius scowled and held up his spatula. "I got my trusty set of tongs all ready."
Harry sighed. "Spatula."
"I know," Sirius snapped as he took a sip of coffee. "Merlin, do you really think that little of me?"
"Okay, but you need a whisk, not a spatula," Harry commented, reaching behind him to produce a whisk.
Sirius frowned. "But I have a spatula I picked out and everything."
"Well, now you have a whisk," Harry replied, grabbing the spatula from Sirius' hands and replacing it with the whisk. "Can you put down the coffee? You need to constantly whisk this over the stove."
Sirius' eyes flickered over to where a saucepan sat on the stove filled with water. "What? Why?"
"Because you do? We're going to put the bowl over the saucepan and you need to whisk constantly," Harry explained. "You can't stop. For about ten to twenty minutes, all right?"
Sirius' eyes grew wide. "Ten to twenty bloody minutes? Are you serious?"
"You know what, why don't you make a fresh pot of coffee for all of us and Cepheus will whisk," Harry suggested.
"I can whisk!" Cepheus exclaimed as the oven beeped and Cepheus took the tart crusts out of the oven.
"I didn't even get to mix the tart crusts because you used that little machine thing," Sirius whined.
"I think coffee duty is very important, right, Cepheus?" Harry said, turning his attention to Cepheus.
"Oh, yes, it's very important, Uncle Sirius," Cepheus agreed as he placed the tart pans on little racks on the counter. Sirius didn't know he even had half of the shit they were using in the kitchen. Andromeda thought of bloody well everything.
Sirius shoved the whisk into Harry's hand. "Fine," he grumbled. "I'll make coffee then I'll sit and relax, watching you two bake all three tarts by your ruddy selves."
Harry and Cepheus exchanged looks.
"I know you're not really a cook or a baker, Sirius," Harry reasoned slowly. "It's not, it's not like we don't want you here. We do. But we want you to just be here but not bake?" he finished, a grimace crossing his face.
Sirius nodded, trying not to take offense because he really couldn't bake or cook to save his bloody life. So, Sirius made a new pot of coffee before he sat down on a little stool at the counter, watching his godson and nephew baking together while quietly sipping his coffee. The three of them chatted, talking about school and, unfortunately, Quidditch.
"I like the BordeauxBande de Balais," Cepheus explained as he was, yet again, stirring ingredients over the stove for treacle tart. "I see you like the Magpies."
Harry was wearing his dad's old Magpie's hoodie. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, I don't really follow professional Quidditch, but they were my dad's favorite team."
Cepheus' head snapped over to where Sirius sat. "What team did my dad like?"
"Falmouth Falcons," Sirius replied.
"It surprises me you don't like Quidditch more," Harry mused. "Between my dad and Regulus."
Sirius shrugged, rubbing his thumb along the handle of his cup. "It's all right. I can watch it and have fun. I just don't play it or have any interest in following it. Maybe after the war, the three of us can go to a game for fun."
Cepheus grinned. "That'd be amazing! We can see the Magpies for Harry."
"We can go to France too and catch the Bordeaux…" Harry trailed off, his brows furrowing.
"BordeauxBande de Balais," Cepheus supplied. "Just call it the Bordeaux Band of Brooms. They're known for their tight formations and teamwork."
Sirius wanted to win a few points with Cepheus. "You don't like the Quiberon Quafflepunchers, then? Aren't the Bande de Balais their arch nemesis?"
Cepheus raised his eyebrows. "Impressive, Uncle Sirius!"
Sirius chuckled. "My Uncle Alphard took us to a game or two in France. He liked the Quafflepunchers. He even dated their Beater so we got to go back to the locker room and everything. I have an old jersey laying around somewhere that's signed by the entire time. I was about seven or eight."
"Who did he date?" Cepheus pressed.
"André Beaumont," Sirius replied, remembering he had liked the wizard quite a lot even if he was introduced as Uncle Alphard's friend at the time. "They dated for a couple of years before they broke up. Uncle Alphard liked to keep his personal life private, even amongst the family. Dating a Quidditch star wasn't exactly a relationship that could be kept quiet for long. I didn't even know they had dated until years later."
"That's so cool," Cepheus said, turning back to the treacle mixture on the stove.
"If you two want the jerseys, I can look for them in the attic at Grimmauld," Sirius suggested. "Not that they would fit or anything, but they're nice Quidditch memorabilia. Cepheus, you can have your dad's. Harry, you can have mine."
"That would be brilliant!" Cepheus exclaimed. "Thanks, Uncle Sirius."
Harry leaned across the counter, drawing close to Sirius. "I can go with you. I don't want you to go there alone."
Sirius offered Harry a closed-mouth smile. "I probably won't have time to go until you're back at Hogwarts. But I'll take Andy or Ted with me. Promise."
Harry seemed satisfied as he went back to working on crushing up candy canes for the peppermint tart. Sirius watched the two boys, a content smile gracing his face. He felt oddly calm and relaxed in that moment as he pushed down all of the things that had been weighing heavily on his mind. Enjoying the holiday with his godson and nephew was just what he needed.
I am BACK! I hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter! We are officially celebrating Christmas in the story and in real life. How cool is that? It lined up nicely and I didn't even plan on it. Anyway, don't forget to drop a nice review. They motivate me and keep me chugging along with this story.
Special thanks to prewettpotter for editing. Also... you can thank justalittleconfusing for next chapter when hot girl Christmas makes an appearance! If you know, you know.