Chapter 17
It had been 2 days since Millicent Bagnold, Minister for Magic, had arrived spontaneously in the early hours of the morning on November 1st. And still, Remus and Sirius were yet to break the news to Harry that he'd be going back to his Uncle and Aunt's house for the time being. Having been 2 days since the unexpected visit, it was now November 3rd, Sirius' birthday. Whilst, Sirius was usually not too fussed on his birthday anyway, this year he felt miserable; his chest feeling so heavy he thought he'd had dumbbells dropped on him in his sleep (considering he'd woken up like that and the feeling was beginning to linger like a bad smell).
But, this year, November 3rd 1986 wasn't just Sirius' birthday, it was also the deadline for taking Harry back. The pair deemed it to be much more difficult, to tell the boy what would be happening, than they initially thought.
On Monday, Remus was once again back at work and he'd planned to tell Harry, with Sirius of course, as soon as he got home. Instead; he fell asleep from exhaustion from another day teaching children who really couldn't care less about their education. A kid stuck a glue stick up his nose today. Remus had whispered to Sirius, fatigue noticeably crawling through his words.
On Tuesday (today) seeing Harry in such high spirits, over Sirius' birthday, throughout the day was just another kick in the gut (one that they surely didn't need) that prevented them from telling him once more.
The sun was now beginning to set, early, given it was November. Hues of orange and red expanded across the sky, stars longing to twinkle brightly and make themselves known. The Morning Star, proudly made its appearance, outshining all rest and standing out like a sore thumb. Sirius leaned out the bedroom window, cigarette between two fingers and pressing against his lips every couple minutes. His eyes were foggy and glazed over; mind wandering deep into thought with a heavy heart. The last two days passed quicker than he'd originally anticipated them to. And now, him and Remus were expected to tell the boy who'd lived under their roof for the past two months, the boy who'd progressed so far in that time, that he would have to go back to live with his abusive relatives who caused him all that grief in the first place.
Sirius inhaled the smoke from his cigarette, tapping the ashes away on the window sill, watching them float gracefully down to the pavement. He puffed a cloud of smoke out into the dusking sky, eyes fixating upon the flickering street lamp from across the road. Scrunching his eyes up and furrowing his brows, Sirius released a solemn sigh whilst concurrently bringing up his left hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. With great difficulty, he reluctantly stubbed the cigarette out on the bottom of his tatted trainers then dropped it out the window.
Dark grey clouds settled in the sky, making the night look gloomier than ever now the sun had finally set, ending the day at last. The rain began to spit from above, only amplifying the misery of the day they'd had; waiting and waiting, thinking and thinking.
Maybe they'll just wait it out. Ignore the problem until it came back to bight them. Well, arrest them, probably. By whom was still a question at hand. Whether the muggle police or the aurors
would catch them first remained a mystery.
The uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach only intensified when Remus finally knocked on the door. Sirius whipped his head round only to be met with an apprehensive expression on his face. His under eyes were deep, purple and sunken, and his skin was drained of all colour. Remus' usual tan skin was now bordering ashen, grey, even.
"You ready?" he said, leaning a hip against the door frame, "Harry's at the dinner table. Food's in the oven, thought we should at least send him off with a proper meal."
Sirius hummed in acknowledgment, not having the energy to speak right now. If he was lucky, he'd get away with Remus just telling Harry everything. It's not like Sirius was very good at heart to hearts, anyway. He'd probably end up saying something stupid to make everything worse, as per usual. Remus glared towards Sirius, who was now facing away from the outside and sitting recklessly on the window ledge.
He narrowed his eyes, "Y'know, if you fall out the window I'm not going to try and save you." Remus quipped, a smirk apparent on his face.
"Oh yeah, I completely believe that," Sirius scoffed but gave a smile back, one that didn't reach his eyes.
Remus walked up to the other and took him into a hug. He never used to like touch, when they were younger. He was always awkward or uncomfortably tensed up, but that was before Sirius. Bringing a hand to wrap round Sirius' nape to guide his onto his shoulder, stroking his thumb across the pale skin.
He eventually dropped the hand to grasp the ravenette's, wrapping it around those slender fingers of his.
They both suddenly jumped apart when the timer on the oven rang throughout, whipping their heads towards the direction of the kitchen. Their shoulders dropped after realising what the sound was and looked back to each other, small smiles gracing their features.
"C'mon," Remus started, dragging Sirius out their bedroom, "I've set the table already. Just sit down with Harry and when I put dinner out we can tell him then."
As he sat down, Sirius released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Harry offered a kind smile but all it did was remind the older that this time tomorrow, there would be no Harry beaming at him from across the dining table.
Another great sense of resent towards the Ministry, towards Emmeline, towards Bagnold herself, washed over him.
"Hiya Padfoot!" he said, bouncing up and down in his seat.
Sirius smiled towards the boy and waved but didn't give a verbal response; too afraid that his voice would crack and everything he'd been keeping in since Sunday would come pouring out his mouth. That's why he needed Remus' level-headed-self to explain everything for him. He clenched his fists under the table, self deprecating thoughts flooding his mind, Sirius had felt eternally angry within the past couple days and he didn't know how long he was going to choke on his temper rather than just cough it all up.
Finally, Remus left the kitchen with three steaming plates of food balancing in his arms. All of which had a mixture of colourful roast vegetables and roast beef with Yorkshire puddings. They'd never usually have a Sunday roast on a Tuesday considering it was, well, Tuesday, but it was Harry's favourite so Remus didn't mind making it when he'd asked the boy what he wanted for dinner that night. He laid the plates out to the designated table mats and sat down in his own seat, contently beginning to eat his meal. Sirius glanced over in Remus' direction, catching each other's eyes, they shared a knowing look and eventually Sirius bit his lip and gave a curt nod; hands shaking as they both made small cuts into the meat.
"Er– Harry," Remus started, grabbing the boy's attention as he looked up to meet the brunette's eyes. Remus quickly looked away out of guilt and continued, "Me and.." (he swallowed a lump in his throat) "Me and Sirius have something to tell you."
Harry felt his heart skip a beat upon seeing the look on the pair's faces, his usual carefree mannerisms (swinging his legs back and forth under the table) came to a halt immediately.
"What is it?" he said with furrowed brows.
"Harry, now you need to understand this was not our decision and there was no ultimatum for us. We know you might find this shocking and if you want to be mad at us, we understand, but if it was up to us we wouldn't be going through with this."
Harry stared back between Remus and Sirius with wide eyes, he had a strong feeling that he knew where this was going. He clenched his fists that his nails would dig into his palms; hoping that maybe, if he pressed hard enough, the pain would spike him awake and this would just be another silly dream.
"Just say it," Harry whispered, averting his eyes down to his hands that were in fists on his lap, too anxious to go back to eating.
Remus and Sirius locked eyes.
"The Minister for Magic, she runs the government in place for wizards and witches like us, she came round for a visit the other night," Remus said, his voice wavering as he spoke, "She explained to us that your Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, they er- They're going to file charge against me and Sirius if we don't take you back to them by... Uhm... By the end of today," he winced upon seeing Harry's eyes grow wide and terrified.
"Oh, Harry, we're so sorry... We don't want this at all, and the moment we drop you off we're filing for custody of you. That means we'll legally be able to take care of you, and you be able to live with us again," Sirius forced a smile, trying to reassure either Harry or himself, he wasn't sure, but neither seemed to be working.
"I don't.... I don't understand," he whispered, tears welling in his emerald green eyes. Fists still clamped closed; he could feel the warm specks of blood seeping out from his palms. Harry finally let go, peeling away one finger at a time. He stared down at the red liquid running down his hands, it strangely reminded him of when Uncle Vernon put his hand in the fire. He turned the hand over to inspect it, the scar was still red and irritated even though it was completely healed. Letting out a shaky breath, Harry suddenly drew his fingers up to his cheeks, realising they came back wet. He brought the sleeve of his checkered red flannel to his face, rubbing away the tears harshly.
Harry looked back up with a quivering lip, seeing Remus and Sirius stares back at him with equally concerned expressions.
"You- you promised I wouldn't have to go back!" he sniffled, raising his voice slightly as his eyebrows began to pinch together, "I don't want to! I- I can't, I can't!" Harry felt bile arise in his throat as the anger, the fear, overcame him.
"Harry, cariad calm down," Remus said in a soothing tone, "This is hard for us too, we don't want to send you back there-"
"We really, really tried, Bambi." Sirius interjected, "The Ministry for Magic is completely corrupt, especially for child welfare. Bagnold, the Minister for Magic, she wouldn't listen to us. She just told us that we need to take you back or else me and Moony will get arrested. M'sorry kid."
Harry didn't speak. He looked down to his half-finished plate of food, now probably running cold. His tears fell one by one, puddling onto the white porcelain that had lost its "new shine" long ago from years wear, and now harboured more than a few scratches and chips. Hands shaking with rage and frustration, Harry finally looked back up, a stoic expression on his face; he didn't want to be upset, he felt like that was selfish. Which was silly, really, and he sort of knew that, but he didn't want to upset the pair more. Maybe then they wouldn't even bother applying for custody.
But then the thought crossed his mind: what if they were lying? What if they weren't being forced to send him back, and they just wanted to get rid of him? He'd been such a burden, after all. What if-
"Harry?"
"Hm?" Harry chomped down on his cheek, biting back the questions that were threatening to slip out his mouth.
"We... We best get going soon. If you're finished with dinner?" Remus said, voice as soft as it could be.
"Yeah," he pushed the plate away and jumped out his seat dragging his feet with his head held low as he trudged miserably back to his room.
With thoughts invading his mind at a million miles per second, he slammed the door behind him and dropped to his knees, letting his sobs break free at last. He didn't want to go back. Harry rather enjoyed living with Sirius and Remus, he thought they liked him being there- apparently not though. He couldn't blame them, he was a handful. The thought occurred to him that maybe they'll just be relieved to finally get a full night's sleep without him waking them up after his dream managed to, somehow, wriggle through the powerful concoction of the dreamless sleep potion. It was still a mystery how that was managing to happen.
Chest feeling heavy, he stood up and went towards his chest of draws, snatching up an old messenger bag by the strap that had been sitting in the corner of the room since the day he arrived. Harry tipped out everything, seeing a text book fall out with a loud thud. With a frown on his face, he crouched down to reach and pick up the book. It was small-ish book, not tiny but certainly far from big, and was decorated with a blue-grey, canvas-textured cover and a diagram of a smoking caldron. The title said "Advanced potion-making" in bold white writing, outlined in black. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it and stared at the first page. The first page was blank but worn and yellowed, covered in multi-coloured stains and singe marks scattered across it. He turned it over, carefully as to not rip it (the book seemed particularly fragile, falling apart at the spine).
Harry froze, fingers hovering over the splatters of ink underneath the scratchy writing.
That was when it hit him: this was his dad's bag.
Scribed in ink in the top corner of the page read, "Property of James F. Potter :)". Harry's stomach fluttered with butterflies, his lips pulled upwards at their corners, as tears slipped out his eyes again, splattering onto the page and bleeding out, making the paper go limp. Something about seeing his dad's name, written in his own handwriting, made him feel a sense of completeness that he'd never felt before.
"Daddy..." he cried softly, putting his palm flat on the page as if he could absorb all of James' past notes haphazardly scribbled across the pages of the book.
Harry placed the book back into the tattered messenger back, careful not to catch the loose threads that dangled chaotically from the burgundy fabric.
Then, he bent down to pick up the other belongings; a posh quill with a snowy owl feather attached to its nib, an inkwell to pair with it and a scroll of parchment. Harry stuffed the equipment back into the bag again then unrolled the parchment paper that he was holding in his left hand. He let out a small gasp when he saw the page scattered with rough messages scattered across it.
"Hey, Sirius. D'you catch what Slughorn just said?
Nah, I've already done this potion. It's fine, I'll catch you up later. Too busy staring at Evans, I see?
Piss off, you toss pot."
Harry smirked at that.
"Will you two stop passing notes and listen!
Ah, Lily! Lovely of you to join the chat.
Go away, Sirius. Just listen, or I'll give you detention!"
The boy stared down at the elegant cursive handwriting, he deduced it to be his mother's.
The rest of the page consisted of similar bickering, back and forth between handwriting that joined between some letters and others not so much (Sirius'), cursive that delicately slanted and curled to the right (his Mum's) and scratchy, only just legible writing (his Dad's).
Harry held the parchment tightly in his fist, like if he didn't it would simply cease to exist, he brought it close to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. He let out a content sigh and put the parchment back into the bag that he'd slung over his shoulder (it was so long against him that it nearly brushed the floor).
Yanking the draws open, he pulled out his neatly folded clothes and shoved them in the bag, not really caring whether they creased or not, he would probably be spending most of his time locked in the cupboard under the stairs- away from the rest of the world- anyway.
Eventually, after who knows how long, he pulled on his trainers (converse in his bag) and went to the door, seeing Sirius and Remus already waiting for him, coats on and zipped up, looking immensely apprehensive.
"Alright?" Sirius said reproachfully, he really didn't want to go through with this but he knew there was no choice.
Harry responded with a nod, refusing to meet either of their eyes and instead staring down at the floor, where he was grinding the tip of his muddy trainers into the rugged carpet, watching as the dirt flaked off and scattered everywhere.
Sirius frowned as he looked at the boy, solemn as anything. But then, his eyes caught the tattered bag that crossed over Harry's shoulders. The older ravenette let out a small gasp, grasping the younger's attention as he did so. He slashed a small smile at him, Harry returned (despite the fact that the last thing he wanted to do right now was smiled).
"Let's be off then," Remus said monotonously, being careful to not let his voice shake as he spoke.
***
The walk to the Dursleys was one of painful silence. None of the three dared to make conversation, too immersed in their own thoughts and worries to speak to one another. As they reluctantly approached Number 4 Privet Drive, it protruded awfully despite being the exact same to those surrounding; a classic, normal, suburban house in Surrey. Absolutely nothing abnormal about it, at least to the naked eye. But to Harry, it was looming trauma that stuck around and associated itself to the house that made him nauseous. A street lamp, that was just by the house, clicked on and off, on and off, on and off, repetitively. It was almost ominous, foreboding even, in a sense that seemed liked the atmosphere was trying to set the scene for the impending interaction.
They finally closed in on Number 4 and stopped abruptly at the end of the driveway. Harry glared towards it with wide and anxious eyes, swallowing to force down his dinner that was threatening to spill.
Remus put a hand upon the boy's shoulder (he flinched in response) and squeezed in a comforting manner as he stroked his thumb over the fabric of the younger's red over-shirt.
Sirius crouched down and brought both his hands up to lay on Harry's cheeks. They stared into each other's eyes, the blue eyed man observing his Godson, taking in all of the similarities to his father; the messy black hair, golden-brown skin, glasses that didn't quite sit straight on his face (sometimes sliding down his nose). Sirius pulled Harry into a hug, taking a hand to stroke the back of the boy's head, combing through the untamed tresses with his fingers.
"Don't worry," he whispered, "We're going to get you back." and he sounded absolutely adamant about that. But deep, deep down; he really had no clue if they would.
Eyes filling with tears, Harry broke free of the hug, clasping his shirt cuffs over his hands to wipe his nose.
"Here, I have something for you," Sirius said as he reached into his baggy jean pockets and pulled out a walkman, a tape already in it. "It's a mix tape. Me and Remus made it for you, it's got loads of different songs on, y'know, some of the ones we've been listening to together." Then, he removed a pair of headphones that were tucked securely into his waistband, and passed both of the things to Harry, "Hide them from your Uncle though, just in case."
"Thank- Thank you..." Harry whispered in a small voice as a choked sob caught in his throat.
"Call us anytime, m'kay? Our numbers written on the tape," Remus said.
"M'not allowed t'use the phone," Harry croaked monotonously. He stared down to the gravel beneath his feet, watching as a snail moved in its steady pace across the drive and back to the pavement.
"That's fine, just call if you can. Okay?"
He gave a slight nod before Remus moved his hand to his back, guiding his towards the door of the Dursley house.
"We'll get you back, Harry. Don't worry." the brunette whispered before lifting the knocker on the door and slamming it three times, before taking a step away from the threshold.
Seconds later, it abruptly swung open, revealing a large, purple-faced man with a nasty grimace on his face.
"Oh, it's you," Vernon sneered.
Harry whimpered and hid himself behind Sirius' leg, fisting palmfuls of the denim from his jeans, just like the last time he'd been back to the Dursley.
"Petunia!" he bellowed, the woman peered her head around the corner from the top of the stairs, she widened her eyes an fast paced her way down the stairs. "The poofs are here," he muttered in a low voice into his wife's ear.
Sirius rolled his eyes, "Charming, Vernon. Truly." he quipped sarcastically.
The man did nothing but glower over to the other pair before lowering his gaze to the boy who was still hiding. Vernon narrowed his eyes even more, how that was possible they had no idea, and then reached out a large, purpling hand to grasp tightly around Harry's shoulder. Harry let out a cry of pain, trying to pull away from the firm hold, but to his avail he didn't succeed.
Vernon dug his fingers into the boy's shoulder, digging them under his collarbone, "You," he growled, "Get in here. Now!" when Harry refused to walk the man dragged him, forcefully holding him back, the bruising grip only getting stronger. Remus frowned, looking down at Harry who had tears spilling out his wide eyes, lip quivering from fear.
"Well? Get lost then," Vernon grunted before muttering, "Fuckin' benders."
"Lovely seeing you,Vernon!" Sirius called, fists clenched with rage as the door slammed in his face.
"C'mon, love," Remus said quietly, feeling as though if he spoke any louder all that would come out would be an awkward grunt as his throat continued to constrain against his words.
They linked arms and apparated back to their flat. Sirius kicked off his trainers, aggressively throwing his coat on the floor shortly after. He clenched his fist shut tight, feeling the overwhelming need to punch something. Opting to chomp down on his tongue instead, he clenched his teeth against it until blood was drew.
Remus hesitantly reached out, running his hands over the back of Sirius' hair before pulling him in close.
"That fat twat is fucking evil," Sirius muttered after a couple minutes of solemn silence.
"You tell me," Remus scoffed in response, stroking his hand repeatedly over the shorter's black hair the fell down his face in curls, only just brushing his shoulders. Sirius snaked his own arms around the brunette's waist.
"You've lost weight." he said, grappling the other's sides affectionately.
"M'just stressed..."
"I'll bet..." Sirius sighed, laying his head in the crook of Remus' neck. "We'll get started tomorrow, yeah? With the custody thing?"
Remus hummed in response, pressing his forehead onto the top of the ravenette's, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent of his boyfriend's apple shampoo and conditioner.
"Hey," Remus muffled into the hair before he turned his head so his cheek now rested on Sirius' head, "D'you think.... D'you think one day we'll be able to get married?"
Biting his lip, Sirius took in what the brunette had just said. He'd never really thought about it, really. Only because it seemed like such an impossible suggestion. Two men getting married? In the 80s? That wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Sirius took the hem of Remus's jumper in between his fingers, rubbing the fabric between his pointer and thumb. The pair of them had been ostracised for their relationship for as long as he could remember, even now, they tried to be as careful as possible with how public they were.
Luckily, their friends had accepted them, but once they finally started to come out, to everyone, that was when they finally realised what sort of world they lived in, and how people like them were treated.
(flashback)
Hogwarts; 7th year.
"Hi ya," Remus said, smiling brightly as he slid into the space next to Sirius on the Gryffindor table.
Sirius was sitting with his face propped up against his palm, across from James who looked awfully concerned about something.
"Wassup?" the brunette said, raising an eyebrow at the other two's demeanours as he began to shovel bacon onto his plate.
James looked up from his lap where he'd been staring down at his hands. He brought one up, using a finger to slide his glasses up his nose bridge.
Frowning, he said, "Sirius is just upset s'all.."
"Clearly. But whats he gone all mardy for?" the brunette teased.
The pair jumped as Sirius slammed a fist down onto the table, teeth gritting. Remus knew better than to provoke him when he was in a mood like this. He murmured a quick sorry before finally speaking.
"Don't you see? They keep staring at me."
Frowning, Remus looked around, seeing various people shoot glances across the hall toward their space on the table. He knit his eyebrows close together and pinched his nose bridge.
"I heard Sirius Black is a queer now... I blame that Lupin boy. He was always a bit strange. I figured he was a poof from the start. But now he's gone and- and infected Sirius! Oh and he was such a handsome one too.. I was so jealous of Emmeline when they were dating," gossiped a Ravenclaw girl as she and a group of friends walked past, shooting nasty looks in Remus' direction.
"Oi! Watched your mouth!" James shouted, his voice projecting across the hall as he stood up so suddenly it made all of the girls flinch and blush from embarrassment then scurry away to their designated table.
"Sit down, James." Remus groaned. He'd had enough of these two and their short tempers.
"Sorry. I can't stand to hear them talk like that about you..." he frowned.
Sirius dropped his head onto the table and wrapped his arms around his head.
He wished he could've just taken it all back; never confessed to Remus, never have kissed him, dated him, told their friends about them, told everyone about them. And he felt incredibly selfish for thinking that. But he couldn't exactly help it. Sirius just wanted to be normal.
(flashback end)
"Maybe someday.. Yeah," Sirius smiled, finally looking up to Remus, eyes staring intently into one another's', "Yeah, I'd like that."
Though, he knew it was just empty words.
Remus smiled back then bent down and kissed the other on the lips.
"C'mon, let's get to bed. We'll wake up early tomorrow and sort out the custody arrangements and- and what- whatnot," he said through a yawn.
***
(meanwhile)
The door slammed shut, right in Harry's face as he saw (for all he knew) the last glimpse of his Godparents, forever.
"Right," Vernon instantly snapped, whipping round to stare the boy down, as he shoved a protrudent, purple finger in his face, "I won't be having any more of that nonsense, boy. You will do as you're told and that will be final. Understand?" he huffed heavily, eyebrows so close together they could've been woven together by a thread of string.
Before Harry even got the opportunity to retort, the hand that had been waving a finger in his face suddenly made a swift motion round the side of his face, knocking his head sideways. The pain seared next to his eye, and he already knew that it would bruise.
"I said, understand" the man grunted gruffly.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry said immediately this time, averting his eyes to the trainers of his that were already muddying up the carpet.
"Oh for heaven's sake," Petunia murmured, clearly having noticed the trail of dirt he'd left behind, "Take those shoes off at once!" I've only just hoovered!" she shrieked.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia." he obeyed, not bothering to rebel. He was back to his old self the moment he crossed the threshold; answers that sounded so robotic it seemed like they were pre-planned (some were, to be fair), no room for arguments and doing only as he was told.
Rather than kicking the shoes off, he carefully removed them and placed them by the door.
Harry stood up, shoulders hunched over, eyes staring down to the floor still.
"I'm not dealing with you tonight," Vernon spat, already making his way towards the cupboard and unlocking it.
Harry followed suit and was 'welcomed' with his blood stained mattress and quilt, along with the spiders crawling amongst the clumps of dust and the webs handing from the ceiling. He stared solemnly back into the cupboard, already missing his warm and comfy bed back at Sirius and Remus' flat, where'd they'd stare up at the enchanted seeing; watching the stars swirl round each other mystically. Hanging his head low, Harry began to clench his fists at his sides as his breath hitched, staring at the claustrophobic space.
"Well go on," the man snapped furiously, grabbing a handful of Harry's messy black hair and tugging on it roughly, "Get in!" Vernon threw him onto the mattress, his knees buckling beneath him, the man scowled down at him, "You're as pathetic as your drunkard father was."
The door slammed viciously and the lock clicked. The impact of the slam caused the cupboard walls shake, making the dust from the ceiling to sprinkle on him.
Harry quickly realised there was nothing he could do. He would be trapped with the Dursleys forever and there really was no saving him. Maybe, if he was lucky, when he turned 18 they'd kick him on the streets and he could find Sirius and Remus again, and hopefully they'd take him back. But that was so many years away. And honestly, Harry didn't know if he'd make it that long.
Taking the bag off his shoulder, he opened it and took out the polaroid of him and his parents (along with Remus and Sirius, and the other man, in the background) and pinned it to the wall. Next taking out the roll of parchment, squinting through the dark to skim back over the short messages. Harry traced each letter with finger before pinning that to his wall too. Finally he got his teddy bear from his bag and pulled it close to his chest, feeling tears well up in his eyes as he removed his glasses and put them on the dusty shelf. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he pulled the thin quilt up to his chin.
Harry didn't want to be here; he wanted to go home.