Harry should’ve expected it. Of course, the truth was bound to come to light at some point. Or more like the reality of it he supposed.
It was almost comical when he was younger, that people genuinely thought he’d grown up spoiled by his family. It was common knowledge that he was an orphan, but still people figured the Boy-Who-Lived would grow up splendidly under the care of his remaining family. The most Harry could say to that, was that he grew up.
Now, he’d hardly told anyone about what really went on back at Number Four Privet Drive with the Dursleys, but it hardly took a genius to guess. Then of course there was Ron and the twins, who’d seen a snippet of it all the summer before his second year.
But aside from some complaining here and there, he never spoke about it much. Until today apparently, as Sirius had found out and was determined to talk him into murder. Which couldn’t possibly have been approved by Mr. Lupin.
The two sat opposite each other in the living room, the table already set with tea and snacks for them both. Which should’ve been a red flag now that Harry thought about it. But then he figured that not everyone bonded like the Weasleys did; in a loud, exuberant manner over games in which the players bribed each other and bargained with chores, all the while trash talking as they fought tooth and nail for victory. He thought maybe this was how Sirius wanted to get to know him, over a calm cup of tea.
For a while, it was sort of just that. They talked about school, friends, mischief; all the basics really. It was fun to talk about himself and then be regaled with more stories about Sirius and his friends back in the day. The sunlight washed the typically gloomy room in a warm light that brightened even his godfather’s gaunt features, and it made him feel hopeful for their future in a way.
There was something about talking and being listened to, being responded to and seen, that made him smile that much brighter. Sirius looked at him and in the moment, it felt as though he truly saw him. Not as James’ son, not as a savior or a nuisance, but as the person Harry was.
As the evening progressed, the subjects changed and now the mood shifted at the new topic Sirius brought up.
“So Harry, how was it living with your muggle relatives? See much of the great world out there?” Sirius asked, picking up his cup to take a drink.
“Ah…it was fine, I suppose. I didn’t do much sightseeing, but the Magical world’s sceneries certainly overshadow most of the Muggle world’s by far,” Harry replied, his smile becoming only slightly more fixed.
“I suppose it’s the perspective. You can come at the world from any angle with magic on your side.” Sirius smiled back.
Harry nodded in agreement. “I think it's best seen from above, where you can get a full view of the entire picture.”
“Do you really think that, or do you just like flying broomsticks?” Sirius raised a brow in amusement.
“Flying broomsticks are darn awesome. Hands down my favorite way to get around, even if they aren’t as convenient as the other ways.” Harry shrugged.
Sirius laughed, leaning his elbow on the couch’s armrest. “Your mother wasn’t all that into flying, but we did hear that one summer she received a broomstick from her parents. They quite loved her after all, and witches and brooms are a whole thing in the muggle world.”
“Did they? Did she ever use it?” Harry asked, sitting at the edge of his own seat.
“Oh no, the thing didn’t even make it to the school year. Her sister was given quite a fright when she tried using it as a normal broom apparently, and she broke it.” Sirius explained, shaking his head.
“Ah… that certainly sounds like her.” Harry muttered, a bit disappointed.
“But muggle brooms have probably changed by now, right? They do make fast progress, those muggles, always been the more innovative ones in my opinion,” Sirius said. “Bet she wouldn’t mistake one of our brooms for their non magical ones in this day and age.”
“Absolutely. Nowadays, she doesn’t even have one at home,” Harry said, then elaborated for Sirius. “Lots of muggles use vacuums to clean now. They are simple to use and as long as it’s done a few times weekly or so, they keep everything dust free. ‘Course she still has brushes to polish everything till it sparkles if guests are coming over.”
“Sounds like a lot of work,” Sirius remarked.
“Yeah, takes quite a bit of elbow grease. To please her at least, getting the floor clean really only takes so much work.” Harry sighed, leaning back against the couch as if the simple memory of it exhausted him.
“Mm.” Sirius took another sip, watching Harry. “Guess you didn’t have any pets then? Since the housekeeping was easy to keep up.”
“No pets, thankfully. Having Aunt Marge with her crazy dogs was annoying enough,” Harry said, lazily picking up a biscuit.
“You don’t like dogs?” Sirius asked. He placed his hand over his chest in a dramatic gesture.
Harry blinked. “Oh, no- I mean, it’s just hers are awful.” He explained. “Or more like she’s awful because she refuses to control them.”
“How so?” Sirius asked curiously.
Harry shrugged, his features disgruntled as he looked into his teacup. “She's just got a twisted humor. Makes her leave them to do as they please, even if that is to be terror wielding machines….” he trailed off.
“Doesn’t sound like someone who should own dogs,” Sirius said.
“She’s mainly in the business of breeding and selling dogs.” Harry set his empty cup atop the saucer with a clink.
“Surely, you need some sort of license for that?” Sirius asked, slightly concerned.
“Nope.” Harry popped his ‘p’, losing interest in the topic as he roved over his confectionery options.
“Seems an oversight on someone’s part….” Sirius muttered, filling Harry’s cup.
There was a silence that filled the air for a bit before the man seemed to give up on his slow approach.
“Listen, Harry. I’ve heard some things from your friends and honestly recognize some signs myself, but I’ll just come out and ask. Were you abused?” Sirius asked, eyes watchful in that way that made Harry feel entirely seen.
It didn’t feel so good anymore, he found. Harry shrugged noncommittally, not meeting Sirius’ gaze. But that seemed to be answer enough.
“Of course….” Sirius muttered darkly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh, Harry… I’m so sorry you grew up there. Lily and James never wanted that to be the case. And you never have to return now that I’m here. But beyond that… if you’d like we can remove the option entirely.”
That gave Harry pause. “...Pardon?”
“Well, I was a hit wizard. And the Dursleys wouldn’t be an option if they were gone.” Sirius explained slowly, in a cautious sort of way.
“No, that’s hardly necessary.” Harry shook his head, firmly denying the suggestion.
“Harry, I can’t know everything that’s happened in that horrible house, but you can go beyond just leaving it.”
“Nothing happened there.” Harry shot down the prospect.
Sirius huffed as he’d been insulted. “Don’t lie to me, Prongslet.”
“I would hardly have to if I thought you could handle the truth….” Harry mumbled under his breath, now watching Sirius as much as the other was watching him.
“You can trust me, you know.” Sirius grumbled.
“And it’s not that I don’t.” Harry insisted. “It’s just that you have… a history of overreacting.”
“I wouldn’t have such a strong reaction if the truth wasn’t so horrendous.” Sirius frowned.
“But murder isn’t the answer to deal with the people we don’t like. That’s what bad guys do, Sirius, and it’s behavior like that which causes muggles to fear people like us.” Harry sighed, exasperated at having to be the voice of reason here. “You were a hit wizard so you are confident you could use those skills to get away with doing it, but was that why you became one? Was it not to get rid of the bad wizard doing stuff like that in the first place?”
Sirius sat quiet, having apparently not seen it that way.
“A rat will bite a cat if it’s cornered. You’ve experienced that fact first hand. Those people know so little of our kind, and their news source was my mother who was sent into hiding because of a bloody war which she died in. At the hands of another wizard no less…. And because of me.”
Sirius found his voice again at that. “That’s not-”
“No. It is. It’s true.” Harry cut him off. “My existence put a target on my family. And you wouldn’t want that target living in your home either, not when you have your own family to protect. When you are defenseless to our extraordinary and, admittedly, unnatural powers.”
“We aren’t bad, Harry,” Sirius said firmly. His face no longer warm as it had been, but once more gaunt in the shadows that came with the night.
“No, we’re not.” Harry agreed, readily. ”But our kind is a small bit of the populous. Most people can’t do what we can, Sirius, it is a miracle something like magic exists! But, the face of it while my aunt had access to news of this world, were the bad wizards who were trying to kill people like her. And how easily could that happen?”
A pause.
“You know. An Unforgivable takes seconds to cast. With just a flick of a wrist, how much carnage could our kind bring?” Harry asked darkly.
“So what? Hurting an innocent child is alright now simply because they were afraid?” Sirius gritted through clenched teeth.
“Of course not. What they did to me and what you went through too, is not acceptable. Adults are supposed to be mature, adaptable and understanding, and the people who raise us should nurture us with care, not violence and fear,” Harry said.
“But you insist on defending those people?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, still sounding disgruntled.
Harry sighed.
“Yes. Because they don’t deserve to die.” He said simply before explaining. “I hated them for a long time, you know. When they went on trips without me, I hoped they’d never return. When I came to Hogwarts, I wished to never return to them. But even when I was younger, I didn’t desire their deaths. I wanted someone to take me away, someone who would love me like I knew those people could.”
“They couldn’t love you. They never even tried.” Sirius spit, clearly angry on his behalf.
“No, not me.” Harry smiled sadly. “But they could love. I wanted someone to take me and love me like my cousin was loved by them. Someone who would push me on the swing at the playground and who I could show off whatever little bug or cool rock I’d found in the grass. I wanted someone who would wipe my tears when I scraped my knee and carry me back into the house again if I fell asleep in the car. I wanted to be wanted in my own home.”
“That place wasn’t a home for you, Harry.” Sirius remarked.
“No, but this is. This is our home, Sirius. Because you said we’d be a family. I don’t need you to hunt the Dursleys, I don’t want you to. I want you here with me like you promised.”
So with murder off the table, Sirius stopped insisting on it. Some skeletons should be probably buried, but Harry thought others could be left to rot where they landed.