One Night
The house that Sirius gave Morfin - or he gave Harry to give Morfin - was unrecognizable.
Dobby had spent quite a bit of time there cleaning, decorating… It was surprising how airy and clean the old house in the country felt.
“Morfin?” Harry walked through the door with his trunk in one hand and Cosmo curled around his other hand. Harry looked around the foyer in surprise at the clean white paint, the tasteful decorations. It had been so dirty before, Harry could barely recognize the place.
It was a nice house, Sirius had called it the ‘Country House’. It was the one that his family used for get-togethers and rituals, because Sirius’s family was insanely rich.
Also insane.
With great money came great insanity… or something.
“Morfin?” Harry dropped his trunk in the foyer and started his search for Morfin. “It’s Harry!”
Morfin wasn’t in the dining room, though there was so much food on the table that Harry wondered if Dobby knew about the feast Harry had before leaving Hogwarts. Morfin also wasn’t in the kitchen, or the sitting room.
Harry started up the gleaming wooden staircase, wondering if Morfin had left the house or not. He had seemed pleased to be given a nice house with no neighbors, Harry didn’t like the idea that he went wandering.
“Go look for Morfin,” Harry told Cosmo, lowering his arm so the snake would slither down and away. “He’s tall, thin, probably the only other person in the house.”
Cosmo complained, but when Harry went right at the top of the stairs, he went left.
It would have been great if Sirius were there… not that Narcissa Malfoy gave them much of a choice.
They had barely stepped off the train before Narcissa had rushed to them, latching right on to Sirius and talking about the summer they had planned. Apparently they were going to travel, whatever. Harry had been invited and he only had to take one look at Sirius’s wistful expression to take a step back and make an excuse.
Sirius wasn’t going to actually go travel with the Malfoy family, but it didn’t hurt Harry any to let him have a night or two with them. Sure, Harry felt his absence from his side like someone had taken his left hand, or the lungs from his chest, but one or two nights would be fine.
It would be fine.
Harry needed to find Morfin and find out about his connection to Voldemort anyway. If he could just find the man…
Morfin wasn’t in the guest bedroom or his bedroom and Harry scrunched his face in disgust at the dead snake nailed to his door. The bedroom itself was suspiciously clean, Harry suspected that was Dobby’s work. Harry was starting to truly worry that something happened to Morfin when he heard Cosmo hissing for him.
“There is a man!”
Harry closed Morfin’s door behind him and hurried down the hallway toward where the other two bedrooms were. One was technically Harry’s, though he didn’t expect to use it very often. The other was Sirius’s, it had been his since he was a boy. Harry’s room had been Regulus’s, though Sirius mentioned that they used to bunk together when they were kids.
It made Harry wonder about Regulus, the brother who ultimately joined Voldemort then got cold feet and was killed. How did one brother become Sirius and the other a death eater?
They had been raised in the same house, with the same parents, treated the same way for eleven years. What changed?
One day maybe Sirius would tell him, as it was Harry didn’t think he liked talking about his brother all that much. Sirius would go on about his cousins, he was more withdrawn when it came to Regulus. Sirius only ever shared a few details, nothing that explained how he and his brother wound up in such different places in life.
Harry followed Cosmo’s voice into his room and saw that his snake was half-curled on the windowsill, his head bobbing as he looked out the window.
“What’s he doing?” Harry asked as he joined Cosmo. Morfin was outside, just at the treeline. Morfin was hunched over, his fingers in the dirt. Harry could only see his back, but it didn’t seem to be a very comfortable position.
“Hunting?” Cosmo suggested, somewhat unhelpfully.
Harry doubted that. Even from his skewed view, Morfin looked healthier. He looked more human-sized, less skeletal. His clothes were clean too, which was good. Dobby was clearly excellent at his job.
“Come on.” Harry held his hand out to Cosmo, intending for him to join him on his trip outside. The lazy snake instead decided to take a nap in the sunshine, leaving Harry to go grab his erratic guardian from the lawn by himself.
Harry really missed Sirius.
*****
Sirius really missed Harry.
It wasn’t wholly unexpected that Narcissa would ambush him at the train station. Sirius didn’t expect her level of… excitement.
Narcissa was excited and it made Sirius want to be excited. Narcissa wanted to add Sirius so fully to her family and he couldn’t. If Sirius didn’t have Harry, he would do it for her sake as much as his own.
It might have been wonderful, everything Sirius once dreamed of. Currently? It was a blockade between him and Harry.
“How did your final exams go, boys?” Narcissa asked Sirius and Draco during dinner. The entire family seemed determined to pretend that Sirius was there by choice and hadn’t made a point to disappear the last time he had been there.
It wasn’t unlike the way the Blacks pretended Andromeda never existed, that Sirius wasn’t in Gryffindor, that the children were all obedient and mindless.
“It went well,” Draco said, looking toward Lucius and so obviously seeking his approval. Lucius only raised an eyebrow at him, cold and unimpressed.
“I was told that a mudblood named Granger outperformed you,” Lucius remarked. “Along with your cousin and Harry Potter. Fourth place is not a place you should consider to be comfortable.”
“I scored top of my year,” Sirius said meekly, his eyes lowered and his hands already shaking from the punishment he knew he would receive.
“Crouch’s son bested you in every class. Is that your place? Beneath a Crouch?” Father sneered, looking at Sirius down his nose. “You may as well lay beneath the man, take place as a whore. You WILL DO BETTER, AM I UNDERSTOOD?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sirius was still punished - had to be. Be the best or face the consequences.
Draco deflated beside Sirius, a wilted flower. Some of his hair fell on his face and if it wasn’t so light, if it was darker and curlier, then it would be another boy with Black blood and a father that couldn’t be satisfied.
“Hermione cheated and nobody was going to outperform me,” Sirius said, just mouthing some nonsense in Draco’s defense. Hermione probably didn’t cheat, but she wasn’t there and Draco was.
“The girl cheated?” Lucius asked, his harsh judgment of Draco immediately fading in favor of news he probably would have fabricated himself to save face. “I would hardly expect any less of a girl from her background.”
“Draco definitely outperformed her,” Sirius said. He kicked Draco under the table, a light reminder of his presence. “You should hear the professors rave about him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up becoming prefect and head boy.”
“It wasn’t Reggie,” Sirius said immediately, kicking his little brother beneath the table to keep him quiet. “It was me, I broke the shelf.”
Narcissa hummed, an approving sound, and smiled at where Sirius and Draco sat.
“You’ve both gotten taller,” she said warmly, smoothly changing the subject away from their grades with ease. “We should go clothes shopping while we’re on holiday. Sirius, I wonder if you would like France? We have a house on a private beach, just outside of the wizarding city in Le Havre.”
Sirius knew Narcissa had that house, he had been there before. It was Druella’s dowry payment to Cygnus Black, both Sirius and Narcissa’s families used to frequent it. The house was beautiful, the wizarding city was lively and exciting… Sirius wouldn’t be going with them.
If Harry were there… maybe he would go. Harry wasn’t there though and Sirius wouldn’t go on holiday without him. One night was already beginning to feel like a lifetime, Sirius didn’t want to make it last any longer.
“Yeah,” he said, forcing cheer to mask the disappointment he couldn’t fully crush. “I’d love to go.”
Sirius would have, he loved France, but he wouldn’t go anywhere without Harry.
Narcissa brought Harry up herself later that night. It was a blatantly calculated move when Lucius invited Draco to his office and Narcissa asked Sirius to walk the lawn with her. Draco lit up at the offer from his father and Sirius felt his stomach become soft and warm when Narcissa said she wanted to ‘catch up’ with him.
It was domestic, unfamiliar. Sirius loved it.
“I think that being a part of a family is very hard for you,” Narcissa started when they walked arm in arm through the softly lit garden. “It’s new and strange, I’m sure. My hope is that you’ll see that family is everything, Sirius. And, unlike most others, you were given a choice. I want you to continue choosing me, as I shall continue choosing you.”
It struck Sirius that Narcissa was a good mother. She wasn’t putting on airs, there were no important acquaintances to impress. Narcissa was offering Sirius a genuine moment of maternal affection.
It made Sirius ache. He would have done so much to have a mother like Narcissa as a child, she had truly become the woman that they both once needed.
“Now.” Narcissa pulled Sirius down on a bench so that she could smile at him. “Tell me about your year. You don’t write much and I think you’ve already won Draco over, he had hardly a word to spare for what you were doing in his letters.”
That was good to know, Sirius would hate to discover that he would have to follow through on all his threats to Draco. Sirius couldn’t even remember what all he had threatened to ensure Draco didn’t mention a single word about him in his letters, he was sure it hadn’t been pretty though.
“I didn’t do much,” Sirius said, thinking of anything he could actually tell Narcissa. It was tricky, considering, but he knew two things he had already planned to tell her. “Did Draco tell you that Snape fucking hit Harry? And Dumbledore accused me of theft?”
“Language,” Narcissa chided him, even while her eyes flashed and filled Sirius with smug vindication. “In a manner befitting a boy of your status, tell me precisely what happened between Severus and Harry. After you tell me why the headmaster accused my child of theft?”
Sirius couldn’t be the child that Narcissa wanted, he couldn’t. Sirius would love to make his cousin happy, there was a hole inside of him that he thought he could fill with something like a family, but he couldn’t do it at Harry’s expense.
A second chance wasn’t the same thing as a fresh start - it wasn’t.
Sirius still had no problem giving Narcissa as much ammunition as she needed to make Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore’s lives exceedingly irritating though.
Narcissa did a lot of humming during Sirius’s replay of the meeting with Albus and Snivellus slapping Harry - Sirius saw her nostrils flaring when Sirius explained that Harry had the mark for days. She reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Sirius’s ear when he finished.
“I heard that you gave Harry a token during the spring holiday,” Narcissa said after promising to take care of Snape and Albus both. “I expect that, somehow, you understand the significance of such a thing?”
“I do.” Sirius tilted his face, letting Narcissa’s fingers trail across his cheek. Narcissa had always been the softest of the three Black girls, Sirius wanted to soak in that unexpected softness for a moment.
In another world, in another life, Sirius could have been raised with a mother like Narcissa.
“You’re going to face scrutiny, my star,” Narcissa warned him softly. “He is Harry Potter and you are Sirius Black.”
It didn’t matter - it didn’t matter if Sirius was the supposed son of a traitor, murderer, death eater. It didn’t matter that Harry was the prophesied savior of the wizarding world, the destined defeater of the Dark Lord.
They were Sirius and Harry. Harry wore Sirius’s token and Sirius carried Harry in every breath that escaped his lips.
*****
Morfin was a strange man, honestly. Harry wanted to like him, but it was as if they were speaking two different languages.
Even though they were both speaking Parsletongue because Morfin stuttered so much in English that it was easier in Parsletongue. Harry wanted to push the issue, practice more so Morfin was more comfortable with English, but there was something pathetically sad about an old man stuttering and shifting in clear discomfort.
“Merope had a son?” Morfin’s face twisted in anger and with one quick flash, he had his knife driven deeply into the dining table. “Nasty son of a muggle, he’d be.”
So, no. Harry didn’t think that Morfin knew about Voldemort. They established that pretty quickly.
“Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Harry said slowly, watching for any signs of recognition. Harry very much didn’t want to be legally connected to someone who might have been Voldemort’s first supporter. “Dark hair, pale skin? Tall and thin?” Harry added when nothing seemed to spark with Morfin.
“Ar, he’d be the mudblood who robbed me then set me up for murder.” Morfin yanked the knife back out and pointed the sharp end at Harry. “You oughta kill ‘im. He stole our family heirlooms! Merope was like that too, taking what she shouldn’t! Thieves are some of the worst scum there is!”
Harry rubbed his temples and subtly waved Dobby away from where he was hovering in the doorway. Dobby was loyal, Harry would give him that. But Dobby didn’t need to be around Morfin any more than he had to be. While Harry was there, Dobby could hide out.
It wasn’t that Harry didn’t agree that thieves were scum, Mundungus Fletcher had been an excellent example, it was that Harry was more concerned with what all Morfin knew about his nephew’s connection to Voldemort than anything else.
“I thought you didn’t know she had a child,” Harry said tiredly. They had been through Merope already, twice. She was a useless squib, Morfin hated her. Merope stole a necklace, dishonored their family.
Harry was trying to focus on Merope’s son.
“I thought he was the muggle scum, didn’t I?” Morfin spat on the floor - just… he spat on the actual floor - and growled. “Never did like a sneaking thief. My father would beat me bloody if he knew I lost our ring, our locket… I’ve got nothin’ to leave my heir.”
“Morfin,” Harry snapped his name as much as he could in Parsletongue. It wasn’t easy, but Harry was getting better at it. “The son, Merope’s son. You saw him? Was it Tom Riddle?”
“That’s the muggle,” Morfin scowled, waving the knife and concerning Harry as he crossed his arms almost too quickly and nearly sliced his own bicep. “The mudblood looked just like ‘im,” Morfin added. “I shoulda known Merope ran off and made a bastard with ‘im.”
“Do you know who Merope’s son is now?” Harry pushed. “Have you spoken to him? He goes by a different name,” he hinted.
“I don’t talk to mudbloods,” Morfin spat. “Or thieves.”
Apparently Voldemort was a mudblood to his uncle, that was… interesting. Harry couldn’t help but be relieved that Morfin seemed to truly not know of Voldemort. It would have been a huge headache to discover that his guardian was a death eater or something similar.
Instead Harry had a mild headache from the pain he felt in his scar earlier and had a simple bigoted and hateful guardian. Really, life wasn’t all that different from usual. At least Morfin seemed to oddly like Harry, he certainly was curious about Harry’s time at Hogwarts.
Harry tried to insist on English after they got past talk of Voldemort, but he didn’t have a good argument for why since it was only the two of them. Morfin didn’t like English, Harry had gotten better at slipping in and out of the two languages during the last year.
“The Headmaster accused me of theft,” Harry told Morfin when he asked about his year. “And he didn’t fire the teacher that slapped me in front of my entire class.”
Morfin, typically, was more outraged over Harry being accused of theft than he was anything else. Harry didn’t tell him that he did steal what he was accused of stealing, since Morfin had said he ‘didn’t like a thief’. Harry wasn’t worried about his chances if Morfin tried to stab him - and he was sure that Dobby would help him hide a body - but he’d rather not deal with another court hearing for the rest of his second life.
“Dumbledore still the headmaster?” Morfin asked Harry, squinting at him through his good eye. The left eye had a tendency to roam, something Sirius said was caused by generations of close incest. “Never liked him,” Morfin scoffed.
Then he spat on the floor again and Harry felt truly sorry for Dobby. Harry maybe didn’t do him any favors by taking him from Lucius, though Harry had firmly ordered Dobby to not hurt himself and to not let Morfin hurt him either.
“You know him?” Harry asked, surprised by Morfin’s comment about Dumbledore. They were still at the dining table and Harry leaned forward in curiosity. “You haven’t talked to him lately, have you?”
“He came to see me when I was in Azkaban,” Morfin said, his tanned face twisting up into something ugly. “Wanted to know about that mudblood, said he’d help me get released if I told him who ‘e was.”
Harry sighed, both at Morfin’s continued insistence at using the slur and that Dumbledore must already know who Morfin was related to.
“He wanted to know about Tom?” Harry checked. “What did you tell him?”
“Didn’t tell him nothin’.” Morfin snarled. Harry started to sag with relief —
“He took the memory right outta my head.”
Right on cue, Harry’s scar twinged and he felt a frustrated headache begin to build back up.
“Don’t move,” Harry told Morfin, rising to his feet with a heavy sigh. “I want to see the memory he saw.”
Harry hoped that Sirius was having more fun at the Malfoys than Harry was having with Morfin.
*****
“So what’s your plan?” Draco was sulking as he seemed to force himself in Sirius’s room. He had been lingering in the doorway for a fashion, watching Sirius and probably weighing the likelihood of being hexed for entering Sirius’s room uninvited.
Sirius hardly spared Draco a glance, as busy as he was judging all the clothes in his wardrobe. It had to be Lucius who ordered most of them, they were so gauche that Sirius wanted to weep.
Jewels? Sirius touched the collar of a silk shirt that had emerald jewels sewn on and could physically feel himself blanch on absolute disgust.
“Your father is the tackiest person,” Sirius announced, finally looking over to see Draco flop down on his bed. “And get off my bed.”
“Harry sleeps in your bed,” Draco countered. Circe, but he was braver in his own home, wasn’t he?
No sense in that.
Sirius did hit him with a stinging hex, causing Draco to yelp as he quickly jumped right back out of Sirius’s bed. It wasn’t bullying, as Harry liked to accuse Sirius of doing, it was a lesson.
People shouldn’t be in other people's beds uninvited. It was rude. Surely Narcissa raised her son better than that. Luckily, for Draco, Sirius was willing to fortify some lessons on etiquette.
“I sleep in Harry’s bed,” Sirius told him, going right back to deciding if any of the clothes were salvageable. “There’s a difference.”
“What’s the difference?”
“A difference so significant that it would sully it to describe. Ugh.” Sirius pulled a horrifying coat from the wardrobe to continue teaching his cousin-brother important lessons. The new lesson was that his father had horrid taste and should not be imitated. “This is hideous,” he explained. “You don’t need gold lining to tell the world you have money.”
“I like it,” Draco said, drifting closer to Sirius.
“Take it then.”
Maybe Draco was a lost cause. Pity.
Sirius tossed the coat to Draco before he finished his inspection of the clothes. It was obvious which pieces Narcissa had bought, they were the tasteful ones. Narcissa had class, Lucius had a tiny ego that needed stroking with visible wealth.
Draco laid the coat over his shoulder, though Sirius didn’t doubt that he had an identical one in his wardrobe. Cissa, Bella, and Andy used to be dressed up identically, a fate that Sirius and Regulus were mostly spared. Sirius hated to be dressed the same as Regulus, even when they had been the best of friends.
“Are you actually staying here all summer?” Draco asked. “Without Harry?”
“Depends on who’s asking,” Sirius said. He smiled at Draco brightly. “My cousin, who would never betray me, or my cousin, who wants to make an enemy out of me.”
“Your cousin, who will probably not betray you,” Draco said quickly. “If my mother asks, I can’t lie to her.”
That was fair enough. At least Draco was already showing the bollocks to lie to Lucius, maybe he wasn’t a lost cause entirely. There could be hope for the kid.
“I’m not staying,” Sirius said easily. He waved negligently toward his trunk, where he had made half of an effort at unloading his school supplies. “I’ll be back before term, but I’ve got places to be, people to see.”
Sirius also had a diary he was meant to fetch, it was the how that was evading him… and why.
A basilisk petrifying muggleborns was awful for everyone except Dumbledore. Sirius rather liked the idea that Dumbledore would be fired.
Bastard.
Petrifications weren’t even a horrible outcome. With mature mandrake leaves, the victims could be revived quickly. If enough of the students were petrified though, Dumbledore could be dismissed and Sirius could attend a Hogwarts under Minerva’s rule.
That would be beautiful. It was Harry who had been so against letting even one kid take a stone nap… he was stubborn when he wanted to be.
It was probably too late in the day for Sirius to go nosing in Lucius’s office anyway. Most wizards kept their offices warded and even if Sirius knew he could take down any pissy wards Lucius would have put up, he didn’t fancy getting caught by a house-elf in the meantime. That would only serve to upset Narcissa and Sirius would do that on his own soon enough.
“You’re leaving now?” Draco asked, watching with a pout while Sirius began moving some of his belongings from his trunk to a simple extended bag. “Mother’s going to cry, Sirius. For whatever reason, she wants you here.”
‘For whatever reason’, Draco was funny when he wanted to be. Sirius was sure he got it from him. He also knew which button of Sirius’s to press - a trait he most certainly inherited from Narcissa.
“Cissa’s the best,” Sirius said fondly. He was glad that Narcissa wasn’t an ice queen like their mothers had been, it was good to see she could be the type of mother she always said that she would be.
Sirius was proud of her, strangely enough. Narcissa took the marriage she was forced in, she took the Malfoy name. Narcissa bent to the Black will, but she didn’t break.
Rebellious in her own way; Sirius approved.
Sirius finished packing his bag and then stuffed it beneath his bed. Harry would be interrogating Morfin and even if Sirius felt a hollow ache where Harry should be beside him, Sirius wasn’t going to be ridiculous and clingy and be someone unable to even stay one night apart.
It was one night. Only one bloody night.
Sirius did years in Azkaban, more when he was on the run and living in caves and Grimmauld Place. If Sirius Orion did years, Sirius James could survive one night without Harry.
“I miss Harry,” Sirius complained, throwing himself on his bed to stare up at the ceiling. Sirius should have asked Dobby to get the mirrors before they were separated. Sirius should have taught Harry how to send messages with his patronus. He would do that soon, it would only make Sirius more lonely to send Harry messages he wouldn’t know how to answer.
“You’re ridiculous,” Draco said, sniffing at Sirius superiorly. “Father isn’t going to let you court him, you know that, right? He’s a halfblood, even if he is famous.”
“Draco.” Sirius sighed and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. “I’m going to open my eyes in two seconds and if you’re still here, I’m cursing you. One…”
Sirius heard his door shut and was left alone… just as he asked for.
*****
Harry’s bed felt cold, he was cold.
Since Sirius hadn’t arrived before midnight, as Harry secretly hoped he would, Harry decided to stay at the country home with Morfin. It was sort of sweet, how excited Morfin became when Harry said he was staying the night there.
It made Harry feel guilty, Morfin did seem to like Harry… and he was the one who had been asking for an heir when Harry struck up their bargain. Harry didn’t expect him to get so… parental? attached?
Harry wanted Sirius to be there to make a joke about it, say something that would ease Harry’s guilt. Harry wanted Sirius there to make a joke in general, something that would lighten the stress Harry felt with every twinge of his scar that shouldn’t be hurting yet and every time he replayed the memory that Morfin had taken by Dumbledore.
The memory wasn’t wholly damning, it only confirmed that Morfin had met Tom back when he’d been young, handsome, charming. Tom wanted to know about Merope, then about the muggle Morfin said he resembled.
It wasn’t the memory of Tom that kept Harry awake, it was his questions about Voldemort.
Voldemort shouldn’t be active, he shouldn’t. Pettigrew couldn’t already be nursing him to health, Barty Crouch Junior should still be a prisoner of his father. So why was Harry’s scar aching? What changed? Was Harry signing the deaths of good people every second he held what he knew to himself? Should Harry have gone straight from King’s Cross Station to Albania?
There were too many possibilities floating in the air… Harry wished Sirius were there so they could talk about it. It was easier to sleep with Sirius beside him, tangled up with him, willing to listen to Harry so he could sleep.
Harry did try to sleep without him, but it was fitful, restless… filled with strange dreams that were neither nightmares nor pleasant.
“Sirius!” Harry raced through the forest, the ruby-encrusted Sword of Gryffindor clenched in his hands. Harry was cut, bleeding, aching from his efforts, but he knew Sirius needed him.
Harry had to keep running, had to tear down anything that tried to slow him, had to get Sirius. It wasn’t exactly a sense of danger or fear that bubbled inside him, but a sense of importance that made Harry run even faster. Once Harry made it through the forest, he would have his Sirius and everything would be okay. It would be okay.
Everything would be okay as soon as he had his Sirius.
The trees began to thin and Harry held the sword up, ready to defend himself against… something. There was something, something that kept Sirius apart from Harry. Sirius wouldn’t stay away if he didn’t have to, Sirius loved him. Harry knew that as surely as he knew his own name - Sirius loved him.
After running for what felt like an eternity, Harry made it through the trees and his eyes swept the clearing, searching for Sirius. There was one tree, old and sturdy with twisted limbs and ribbons floating in the air in the center of the clearing and that was where Sirius waited.
“Harry!” Sirius waved from where he stood beside another man. Sirius was beautiful and happy, just as he had been in the photos of Harry’s parents wedding, it was how Harry liked seeing him the best. Something about Sirius’s smile made Harry smile - an automatic reflex of joy.
The other man was waxy, pale, and smiling at Harry with thin lips as red as his eyes. As casually as Sirius was dressed in a pair of jeans and a black leather jacket that Harry bought him, the other man had on black trousers and a black dress shirt, topped with a fitted wizarding robe. The clothes seemed to be a purposeful contrast of both his skin tone and Sirius’s casual muggle attire.
“Harry, you made it,” Tom said. “We were beginning to wonder if we would have to hunt you down.”
Tom saying he would hunt Harry down was half-threat, half-promise. Practically a declaration of love from Tom. Harry laughed as he tossed the sword to the side, no longer feeling the desperation he had to hold it. He didn’t need the sword, it was only Sirius and Tom around.
All Harry ever needed was Sirius and Tom.
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Harry joked, entirely at ease with Tom’s stiff way of teasing. Harry hurried to Sirius’s side where he had an arm tossed over his shoulder and a smile turned on him.
“We’d do anything for you,” Sirius swore, his eyes burning.
It had to be true, it had to be. Harry would do anything for them as well, they knew that.
Sirius bent down some, Harry tilted his face up, and everything was right. It was right when Sirius kissed Harry, perfect when Tom watched them with a fond smile and hungry eyes.
Everything was better than okay when Harry was with Sirius and Tom - it was perfect.
Harry didn’t remember the details of the dream when he woke, it slipped away from him too quickly to catch, but his chest ached. It felt like he was missing something he never had.
Harry really hoped Sirius returned soon.