Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Hello everyone. I hope you all are doing okay. I owe each and every one of you a huge apology for not updating in so long, but I hope you understand my reason for it. As I'm sure many of you are, I have been completely shaken by current events. We are living through very difficult times right now, and I didn't think anything could be worse than 2020. I was proved wrong.

I do live in the United States, but whether I lived here or not, I know I would have been very emotionally affected by everything that is going on. I wish each and every one of my readers hope and healing during this harrowing time we are living through.

This is why I felt no inspiration to write anything for a while. Then, once I finally felt able to come back to fanfiction, I couldn't publish properly for several days. On Monday, when I tried to update one of my other stories, none of my followers received the notification that it had been posted. After several emails to Fanfiction Support with no response, I grew very frustrated. Finally, when I tried to reupload the chapter yesterday, it worked. Hopefully everything is back to normal now.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Thank you so much for all your reviews. As for the Diggorys, one of my readers expressed my sentiments exactly. I feel like the Diggorys, in the original series, were written as nothing more than plot devices. Why didn't we see them in the Order, or at least during the final battle? I feel that by the end of the series, the only two people who took Dumbledore's words "remember Cedric" to heart were Harry Potter and Cho Chang. That is so insulting to me. And nothing, NOTHING, enraged me more than Cursed Child. I didn't think I could truly despise anything in the HP series, but Cursed Child angered me beyond anything I've ever felt about any book before.

I could ramble on about this for hours, but I'll get off my soapbox and get on with the chapter now. Needless to say, you'll be seeing plenty more of the Diggorys throughout this story. And many, many more people will be remembering Cedric.

Anyway, please enjoy.

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From the moment he had taken his first breath, Sirius Black had always been one for action. He was never one to sit still; James had often teased him that he couldn't remain in one place for even five seconds, and it was true. Sirius had a mind that was always churning, always searching for something to occupy it. He could never spend time just sitting around doing nothing, waiting for something to happen. Remus would constantly say to him, "If there's no chaos where you are, you'll create it."

But now, as the days passed and Sirius remained in Grimmauld Place with Harry, he was doing something he never would have expected. He was actually spending a lot of time sitting still, contemplating the situation that he and Harry were in. At any moment, he expected the restlessness to come, the helplessness that had constantly seized him in Azkaban. He couldn't count the number of hours he had spent in that cell, pacing back and forth, back and forth, lost in either grief or rage.

But he found that having Harry nearby served as a buffer between him and the need for action. There was nothing more important right now than Harry's emotional well-being, which Sirius felt he had neglected for so long. If that meant sitting in this house for months, he would do it. He would not allow Harry to fall prey to the bloodthirsty mob that was using him as a scapegoat. Sirius came to the bitter conclusion that the wizarding world was made up of complete and utter fools, either worshiping the ground Harry walked on and expecting him to vanquish Voldemort for them, or they thought him responsible for all their problems because he didn't fit their definition of the sainted hero they wanted him to be. Sirius hated how society put people in boxes, and the fact that Harry was living through this experience was devastating to Sirius, who wanted nothing more than to take Harry's pain away.

Never had Sirius been more touched by Harry than on the day he wrote to the Diggorys. The boy had already gone above and beyond what anyone expected of him; Sirius still got a lump in his throat when he recalled Harry's goodbye to the older boy, promising him that he would never stop fighting for him. The heartache on Harry's young face had, in turn, made Sirius's heart break for him.

Now, in hiding, with the wizarding world out for his blood, there was no way the boy could attend the funeral. It was plain to see that Harry felt awful about it, and Sirius once again couldn't believe the amount of guilt his godson was carrying around. He wondered, with a surge of fury rising up in him, whether his relatives had taught him to take every bit of blame on himself. Harry had been in no way responsible for any of the events on the night of June 24, and even though Sirius tried, every day, to make Harry aware of it, it was obvious that the message would take time to register with the boy.

But Sirius knew Harry was adamant about writing to the Diggorys, and therefore, he knew he couldn't stop him from doing so. He hoped that this would be part of the journey Harry would take to healing, and Sirius would do whatever it took to help the process along. As the days had passed and Sirius had observed him, there were so many warning signs he saw that made alarm bells ring in his head. Harry was wary of doing anything to upset him, and it would have taken a blind fool not to see that he was fearful of being a burden on anyone.

But Sirius also saw the progress that was being made in their relationship. Every day, Harry seemed to trust him a little more, and whenever the boy made any kind of physical contact with him, such as initiating a hug, it lifted Sirius's spirits. He was reminded of his own childhood, when James, Remus, and even Peter had shown him that he was worth something. When he'd escaped his hellhole of a family and gone to live with James, he felt as though his soul had been saved. He knew the darkness in him could not be denied, but it was the warmth of his friends that had kept him from slipping off the edge. He knew this was why he had completely lost any semblance of rationality when he'd lost James and Lily. But Harry, he thought with deep affection, was bringing it back.

The next day, even though Harry didn't say it, Sirius knew he was anxious for the Diggorys' response. The boy had been trying to keep himself busy by trying to continue with his magical education, and Sirius, in turn, tried to distract him. He attempted to keep the conversation light as he had Harry explain to him the things he had been studying at Hogwarts.

"So, what kinds of things did you study this year?" Sirius asked curiously as Harry came into the drawing room, holding a few books, several pieces of parchment, and a quill.

"Er, well, a whole bunch of things," Harry answered as he sat on the couch next to Sirius and spread his books out on the table. "Transfiguration and Charms seem to only get harder as time goes by. But the worst is Potions, for sure."

Sirius snorted. "Of course it is, considering who teaches it," he said. He felt the familiar burn of anger rise up in him at the thought of that greaseball Snape ever laying an eye on his godson. His history with the other man was one of bitterness and loathing, and Sirius knew it would do neither him nor Harry any good by letting his thoughts travel down that road. Instead, he changed the subject, not wanting Harry to have to think about Snape either. "What would you say is your favorite class as we speak?" he asked.

Harry thought for a moment. "Probably Care of Magical Creatures," he said. "Hagrid certainly knows his subject, but I do wish he didn't love his Blast-Ended Skrewts so much."

Sirius listened as Harry explained exactly what these so-called Skrewts were. He focused all his attention on Harry, not allowing his mind to linger on the last time he had seen Hagrid. He wasn't going to let every name be a trigger for him. Remembering seeing Hagrid in the destruction of Godric's Hollow was not something he could ever erase from his mind, and he had to accept that, as crushing as it was. But as Harry talked about the Skrewts and Hagrid's lessons, Sirius found that his thoughts didn't venture there for long. Instead, he found himself laughing at some of the details Harry was giving.

"You mean to tell me," he said through a bout of laughs, "that Hagrid told your class to take those things for a walk? A WALK? I knew he was obsessed with dangerous creatures, but what in Merlin's name was he thinking? Did he think the Skrewts were dogs or something?"

Harry chuckled. "Something like that," he said with a smile. "It was pretty weird. None of us liked that particular lesson one bit, even though a lot of the other ones are really interesting."

"I don't blame you there, pup," Sirius said fondly. "Not at all."

"Did you take Care of Magical Creatures?" Harry asked with interest.

"Yeah, I did actually," Sirius said. "We had Professor Kettleburn. He was pretty radical about his creatures too, and I used to think that no one could be more so than him. But Hagrid ... he went and proved me wrong."

Harry laughed again, and Sirius basked in the sound. He noticed that Harry's laugh was similar to James's, although it was a slightly higher pitch.

"If you'd like me to help you in any of your studies, I'd be happy to," Sirius said. The thought of helping his godson continue his education was very pleasing to him. Both he and Harry knew it might be a while before the boy could return to Hogwarts, but Sirius could sense that this was what Harry needed - some semblance of normalcy.

Harry smiled. "Thanks," he said gratefully. "Are you good at Transfiguration? I'm not that great at it."

"Harry, I'm an Animagus," Sirius teased. "What do you think?"

"I guess you'd have to be good at it to do that," Harry said, still smiling. "Would you mind looking over some of this with me, and telling me where I'm going wrong?"

Sirius grinned. "Of course," he said at once.

Before either godfather or godson knew it, they had spent an hour going over Harry's lessons. Sirius saw where Harry was struggling, and attempted to help him with his wand techniques and with his confidence. By the end of the hour, he realized he had seen Harry smile more today than he had on any other.

"Thanks," Harry reiterated as he closed his book. "You know, you're not a bad teacher. Definitely better than Lockhart," he joked.

"Gee, I'm thrilled," Sirius teased back, his heart filling up with warmth when he realized Harry trusted their relationship enough to joke with him. "That's high praise, Harry. Better than Lockhart. I've never been given such an astounding compliment before."

"I'm glad you approve." Harry smiled, but then his face changed to one of sincere gratitude. "No, really, I do appreciate it a lot," he said quietly.

Sirius ruffled Harry's hair, and slung an arm around him. "No problem, kiddo," he said. "I enjoyed it too. It brought me back to my own school days of having Minnie for a teacher."

Harry stopped short, looking at Sirius in surprise. "Minnie?" he asked, unable to stop the sudden laughter that shook him. "Did she ever hear you calling her that?"

"But of course!" Sirius exclaimed. "Gave me detention for it every time, too. I could swear she thought it was funny, though."

"Wow, you're brave. I could never do that. She's too intimidating," Harry said.

"No, she's not," Sirius said with a laugh. Despite his issues with McGonagall at the moment, he focused on those earlier days with her if only for Harry's sake. "Get her on the right day and she'll show you she's not as no-nonsense as she claims."

"Whatever you say," Harry said, his laughter finally subsiding. "I'm not about to test it."

xxx

The rest of the day continued in a leisurely fashion, with both Harry and Sirius very comfortable in each other's company. Sirius had been thinking about how to make Grimmauld Place more habitable for the two of them, wanting to do things which would make his parents roll in their graves. He had some ideas, and once he had fleshed them out more, he would run them by Harry and see what he thought. If they were going to be here for the time being, it needed to be made into more of a home.

That evening after they finished dinner, Hedwig flew in through the drawing room window, a note attached to her leg. Even though this house was unplottable, an owl could fly back here once they were aware of where the house was. This was how Sirius had known that Hedwig would be able to return safely, and he had reassured Harry of this when he'd sent her out to the Diggorys the day before.

Sirius knew his godson was nervous as he took the piece of parchment from Hedwig's leg and unrolled it. They both sat on the couch again, and Sirius put his arm around the boy in support as he began to read.

When he was finished, he looked up, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He handed the letter to Sirius and said, "You can read it if you like." His voice came out constricted, and Sirius pulled Harry close as he took the parchment from him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, knowing the note must have been very personal.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Harry answered softly. "Go ahead."

Dearest Harry,

Thank you so much for your sweet letter. We cannot express enough how sorry we are that you are currently in the situation you're in. You should never have had to go into hiding, and the fact that you thought of us, even with everything you're going through, shows us just how much you care. Do not ever let anyone in the wizarding world fill you with any doubts about yourself. You are one of the most goodhearted, kind young men we have ever met.

By the time you receive this owl, Cedric's funeral would have happened yesterday. This was an extremely touching letter to receive, and we are very thankful that you are being taken good care of. We hope you continue to heal, and we want to reassure you that we will be all right. Let us know if you need anything, Harry. We want to be there for you, like you have been for us.

With hope and healing,

Amos and Eileen Diggory

"Oh, Harry," Sirius soothed, his heart aching as he finished reading and pulled Harry even closer. He could feel the boy shuddering against him, trying to hide the sobs that wanted to be released. Gently, he lifted Harry's chin so he could look into the emerald eyes that were filled with pain and grief that Sirius knew would take a long time to abate. "Don't hide this," he whispered, rubbing Harry's back. "It's me, kiddo. You don't need to hide your emotions from me. You're not alone anymore, pup. You're not alone."

And Sirius's heart filled as Harry heard the words, and trusted them. He allowed the sobs to come, and Sirius held him as they racked through his body. He whispered reassurances in his ear, and buried his face in his godson's messy hair. Holding Harry like this, comforting him, telling him he would never leave him again ... Sirius felt purposeful, and knew that for once he was doing the right thing. And this made him realize that being a man of action wasn't really about running around, causing chaos, never sitting still. Being a man of action meant being there for someone who needed him, and showing them that he wasn't going anywhere.

Once the tide of emotions had ebbed, Harry didn't leave Sirius's arms, and the man was grateful. He needed to hold onto Harry just as much as the boy needed to cling to him. Godfather and godson desperately needed one another.

"Thanks, Sirius," Harry said softly, sighing into Sirius's robes. "You know that you're not alone anymore either, right?"

And Sirius felt his own eyes fill with tears as he continued to embrace the boy, once again vowing to never waste this second chance he had been given. "I know."