The Doctor and the Dog
“I do not find you cute, I do not find you charming. You may believe that you have this rough and tumbling appeal to people and I want you to know that I am not the least bit charmed by you.”
The black dog wagged its tail and barked.
“Absolutely not. I think you are irritating and dangerous. You will not step foot in my home and endanger my sons.”
A soft bark and big grey pleading puppy eyes.
“No.” Miranda Bailey put her hands on her hips and widened her stance, blocking the entire doorframe with her body. “My son needs many things and your specific brand of nonsense is not one of them.”
Miranda was glaring at a mangy looking oversized underfed dog that suddenly turned itself into a mangy looking underfed man. Miranda knew who the man was, knew it the instant that she caught the dog sniffing around her property.
Miranda knew who he was because her son had just returned from that damned school the day before and told Miranda all about the new year of torments he had been at the receiving end of.
A man escaped from a prison and he had been targeting Miranda’s oldest baby and nobody thought to tell her that? Absolutely not. Miranda was fed up with that school, she was fed up with her son coming home worse for wear every summer. Miranda was certainly fed up with Sirius Black and the chaos that he brought her son the last year.
“Hello.” Sirius Black stood up and tried to offer Miranda a hand that she was not going to shake. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather.”
The door behind Miranda opened, closed, then there was a quiet click of a firearm that Miranda hated the necessity of owning.
“I’m Tucker Jones, Harry’s father,” Tucker said, backing Miranda as he always had. Miranda didn’t think they were at ‘waving a deadly weapon around’ territory yet, but there were two boys inside their house who depended on Miranda and Tucker to keep them safe.
And it wasn’t like there weren’t plenty of times where Miranda wished she were a violent person who could raise hell and rip heads off with her bare hands. If Tucker had a big feeling that he would keep their sons safe with something in hand to fight against magic with? Well, Miranda could give him that. Tucker was a damn good dad and even if guns were terrifying to Miranda, that single pistol was never pulled out for anything less than what Tucker considered to be a threat to their son’s life.
Son, singular, because it was always their oldest who had killers and whackadoos and maniacs following him around and showing up on their doorstep. Baby Tuck didn’t have quite so many enemies as his older brother.
If Sirius Black was scared of the gun, Miranda didn’t know, he bobbed his head at Tucker and let his hand drop when he realized Miranda would not be shaking it.
“I think we may have gotten off to a bad start here.” Sirius tried grinning and it slipped when neither Miranda nor Tucker returned it. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you! I feel like I already know you!”
“Same,” Miranda bit out angrily. She was trying to stay patient, but her patience was running dry. The audacity of the man… “Here’s what I have heard, Sirius Black. I heard that almost thirteen years ago you were the person who was meant to take care of our son. I heard you chose revenge over your duty to my boy and because of that you got yourself arrested.”
“Wrongfully convicted,” Sirius interrupted.
“I then heard,” Miranda raised her voice and narrowed her eyes, “that you escaped from prison and began stalking my son.”
“Tried to check on him.”
Tucker was trembling behind Miranda and she had to reach behind herself to twist her wrist and place her palm on his stomach. Tucker dealt with a lot of nonsense, he put up and shut up about a lot of things that he and Miranda didn’t like, but if Sirius Black didn’t watch himself he was going to push Tucker past his limits.
“You then attacked Harry’s classmate with a knife, broke that same boy’s leg in front of my son, fought with my son and exposed him to fifty dementors.”
“And an unmedicated werewolf,” Tucker added in a growl.
That too.
Sirius was beginning to shift around like a little boy caught in a lie - not Miranda’s little boy though, because Harry didn’t lie to her. Harry wasn’t forthcoming, but Miranda knew when he was upset - when something happened - and knew how to get him to open up.
It was slow, excruciating, and took every bit of wiles that Miranda had. They always got there though.
“You were then arrested and our son, our pride and joy, risked his life to travel back in time, exposing himself to dementors and a werewolf again, to save your soul.” Miranda’s chest was heaving with anger and she focused it all on Sirius Black. “Did I get that all correct?”
“Ah…” Sirius scratched at his chin and the scruffy and tangled beard he grew there. “It seems like maybe he left out the part where I’m innocent?”
“Innocent of some charges, guilty of others,” Tucker snapped. “You put my son’s life in danger.”
Again. Their son was in danger again. It was every damn year and they were done with it. Miranda would travel to Oz and click her heels three times if she needed to find a place for her son to learn to use his gift. Anywhere in the world would be better than Hogwarts.
It was the third summer in a row where the sweet and healthy boy Miranda sent off to school returned looking thin, tired, and unhappy. School was meant to be a place of education and socialization, not a place to be tormented and terrorized.
Sirius at least had the maturity to become somber at Tucker’s reprimand. He straightened up and clasped his hands in front of him while he seemed to look at Miranda and Tucker in a new light.
“I never meant for Harry to be in danger,” Sirius told them. “I - Harry is the most important person in my life. He’s my family and that’s why I’m here. He told me about your family and I only wanted to meet you, make sure you were as good to him as he said you were.”
Miranda’s heart warmed at the thought that Harry had good things to say about their family. It was silly, Miranda knew that he loved them and knew they loved him, it was nice to hear though.
It would have been nice to hear from another source, like the sweet boy Harry had a visit from last summer. Neville Longbottom was a good egg and a good friend, Sirius Black was not a good egg.
“Harry’s our child,” Miranda said - it was the simplest explanation there was. Miranda loved that boy and lived and breathed for that boy. She wanted to see her son grow to be the amazing man that she knew he would be and she wanted to be there for every step along the way.
“I’d like to write to him?” Sirius said, pleading to Miranda with his eyes again. “Maybe I could come back toward the end of the holiday, see him before he goes back to school?”
Miranda didn’t need to look at Tucker or have any conversation to know they were on the same page.
“You may write to him and you will not make any mentions of any possible visit,” Miranda told Sirius. Miranda didn’t read Harry’s letters he sent his owl off with in the summers, she never had to. Harry wrote to three friends and Miranda didn’t need to read about any quidditch teams or see in ink what Harry thought about Cedric Diggory’s hair.
Harry could have the privacy that a teenage boy needed and Sirius Black would find a boundary or Miranda would show him very clearly where that boundary was.
“You will also take a shower,” Miranda added, eyeing Sirius and his nasty clothes and hair with disgust. “You are a grown man who has magic. You do not get to have any excuses on skipping hygiene. Am I perfectly understood?”
Sirius Black might have been a once handsome man, Miranda had seen photographs of him in an album that was gifted to Harry. Miranda was not charmed at all though by the suddenly bright smile and boyish salute that Sirius gave her.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Thank you! We’ll speak soon!”
After Sirius melted down to become a dog once more, he bound away with a few joyful sounding barks. Miranda turned and let Tucker’s arms wrap around her while she rested her forehead against his chest. Miranda was breathing slowly, allowing her blood pressure to decrease to a more tolerable level.
“I do not like that man,” Miranda announced, muffled some by Tucker’s chest.
“I know it.” Tucker rubbed Miranda’s back with his empty hand, doing his best to calm himself down as well. “I know it.”
They stood like that - the calm harbor off a stormy sea - until they knew it was time to get moving back inside.
It was not the last time that Miranda had to put up with the antics of Sirius Black, not by a long shot.
It was two weeks after meeting Harry’s godfather that Miranda received a letter sent by owl at the damn hospital of all the fool places to send it. The secretary who worked the welcoming desk thought it was hilarious that someone mailed Miranda an envelope by ‘carrier pigeon’.
It was an owl, not a pigeon. Pigeons would be preferable ways of communication since they wouldn’t molt and nest all over Miranda’s house and fill rooms with white feathers.
Miranda did not stay to argue about the classification and characteristics of birds, not when she had a surgery she needed to attend to and two boys in the hospital she wanted to check on.
Tucker was at work, which meant Little Tuck was checked in the daycare on the second floor. Harry was at an appointment that was meant to not seem like an appointment with Doctor Stark.
It only took a moment to check on Tuck, much longer to find Harry. Miranda had to pull up the hospital database on a computer and searched his name while praying all the while…
One summer, that was all Miranda wanted. One summer where her son could stay out of the hospital…
Bailey, H. 2106
Miranda closed her eyes, giving herself a second to feel all the feelings she had about that. Then she picked herself up and went to find the pediatric surgeon that had been treating Harry since the very first time he set foot in Seattle Grace Hospital.
Doctor Stark must have known that Miranda would be searching for him and made himself nice and visible in the nurses station on the inpatient wing of the pediatric floor. Stark looked tired and he gestured for Miranda to walk with him as soon as she joined him.
“If he eats lunch and dinner, I won’t put in the order for a nasogastric tube,” Stark said quietly when they began walking down the hallway to where Miranda knew her son had been admitted. “I had the new psychologist, Ravellette, sit in with us and, Miranda, he is fighting for control.”
It hurt Miranda on a deep and spiritual level to hear Stark tell her what she already knew: Harry was fighting a war against his own body while other smaller wars happened around him.
Miranda did the research, she spoke with the specialists and she soaked up every bit of information that she had available to her. It was a war for control, a war for security, and a war fought over the way that Harry did not see himself as the amazing and beautiful gift that he was.
Harry Bailey did not like himself and Miranda couldn’t fix it.
Miranda thanked Stark for the update and then let herself in Harry’s room. Harry was curled on his side, his knees drawn up to his chest, and his hand already reaching to scratch at the IV secured in the bend of his left arm.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said softly. Miranda took his hand and held it in hers as she sat in the chair beside his bed.
Miranda squeezed Harry’s hand and forced herself to keep her feelings to herself. Harry carried so much on his shoulders and in his heart, he did not need to be given the weight of Miranda’s emotions. It was Miranda’s job as his mother to lighten his load, not add to it.
“You do not apologize to me, Harry James,” Miranda said as a gentle reminder. “I am not mad or disappointed. I do not love you any less and I never will.”
Harry nodded, but his eyes that wouldn’t look at Miranda were all she needed to see to know that he didn’t believe a word she said.
“You know, your and Tuck’s birthdays are coming up,” Miranda said, trying to find any excuse to make Harry want to be healthy. “I thought that if his parents are okay with it, maybe you could invite your oh so handsome friend Cedric to go on a trip with us.”
That got Harry’s quick attention.
It was a bribe, not even a subtle one. But Miranda wouldn’t threaten her child and if Miranda could motivate Harry to do what he needed to to avoid being tube fed then so be it.
Bribes worked, that was why parents used them.
“You said you didn’t like Cedric,” Harry said with all the indignant emotion a teenager could carry.
“No, I said that you are too young to be dating,” Miranda corrected him, not unkindly. “And you are certainly too young to be dating a boy his age.”
He was too young to be dating, period. Tucker had been all twisted in his head when Harry wrote home during the school year, filling his letter with mentions of Cedric —
Cedric was a seeker, like Harry.
Cedric was handsome.
Cedric apologized after beating Harry’s team in a quidditch match.
Cedric was learning how to cast a patronus, just like Harry.
Cedric was a prefect - “It means he’s got top grades and is a good example to the younger students.”
Miranda had not been surprised. Miranda did not care what her son’s sexuality was or how many times it would change - because according to the blogs of parents of LGBTQ+ children, it could change many times until Harry found what felt right to him. All Miranda cared about was that Harry was healthy and safe.
If letting some boy go on a trip with them would convince Harry to do what he needed to get out of the hospital? So be it.
Harry had lightened up for a second, then he wilted all at once and Miranda knew precisely what her poor boy was thinking.
“Not like it matters,” Harry mumbled while he started picking at his blanket with the hand Miranda wasn’t holding. “You - you should see him, Mum. He’s - well, he’s tall, and everyone thinks he’s handsome and I dunno. I don’t know why he’d want to spend time with me anyway.”
“Baby…” Miranda sighed quietly when her son just tore himself down, again and again. It was heartbreaking and Miranda could build him up as much as she could, a whole line of handsome boys could be interested in him, but it was Harry’s opinion that was destroying him.
“You look at me for just a minute, Harry,” Miranda said, stern but kind. She waited patiently for Harry to so slowly raise his eyes and the red rims and quivering lips were enough to finish breaking her heart.
“This boy, this Cedric, must look at you and see the same things that I do,” Miranda told him. “I see a boy who is kind and smart and who has big dreams and big responsibilities that he didn’t ask for.” Miranda raised her hand to gently place it on the side of Harry’s face so she could smile as she traced her thumb beneath his eyes.
“You are every bit as handsome as your father, but I thank the Lord that you have your mama’s eyes because they are your beautiful windows to your beautiful soul. I know being a teenager is hard and you’ve never had it easy, honey, but you are going to become such a successful, happy, healthy, handsome man one day. And if that boy is as smart as you said he is? Then he will see it.”
Harry looked at Miranda like he wanted to believe her and she wished he would. When he smiled, his sweet shy smile that melted Miranda from the very first time she saw it, one stray tear leaked out of his eye and Miranda smoothed it away with her thumb.
“Boys aren’t supposed to be beautiful, Mum,” Harry said, sniffling some.
“Well, you are.” Miranda leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead. She lingered for a second, breathing in the smell of her son beneath the antiseptic smell of the hospital.
Her baby was beautiful.
Miranda passed her surgery on to a resident so that she could sit with Harry at least through lunch. She sent a message to Tucker to call his mom and see if she would pick up Little Tuck for them so that Miranda could work that evening and Tucker could take the dinner shift with their son.
Lunch was damned excruciating.
Harry spent three hours forcing himself to take tiny little bird bites, chewing twice as long as he probably needed, before washing every bite down with water. Miranda did not comment on it, Miranda did not talk about food at all.
Miranda set a good example of eating her own healthy meal and talking about the trip they would take for Harry’s birthday. Miranda had a few vacation days she could take, the other days she would trade around with the other general surgeons to secure off. Tucker saved his vacation days through the year for the summer and the union he worked for knew that he wouldn’t take any job out of state during the summers.
It would be nice, they could drive down to California, book a cabin in the Redwood National Forest. Miranda talked about maybe finding a quiet and secluded area so that Harry and his friend could fly (even if the thought of her baby flying through the sky gave her heart palpitations).
It wasn’t quick, it wasn’t pretty, but Harry got through lunch and Miranda told him to write a letter to his friend before dinner.
Miranda had forgotten about the letter she stuffed in her pocket until she was back on shift, rounding on the post-op patients for the general surgeon. One of the patients, a sweet old thing named Janice, had knitted Miranda two hats for her boys and when Miranda left her room and went to put them in her pocket, she felt the envelope from that morning.
Pausing at the nurses desk, she quickly opened it and thought it might be from Harry’s school, maybe someone finally realized they needed to keep Miranda informed on things her son went through while he was there.
Which was not what the ridiculous letter was.
Miranda,
I want to thank you for what you and your husband have done for Harry. Harry was vague on the details of how you came to adopt him, but I imagine that I can connect the lines on what he didn’t tell me.
You seem like good people, I hope that in time you can see that I can be a good influence in Harry’s life. He’s a sweet kid, I imagine he’s like you like that because Merlin knows James and Lily were never that sweet.
As I was meant to be the one to raise Harry, I believe I owe you quite a few years of what I think muggles call child maintenance care? Either way, this is for you and your family and in no way a bribe to convince you to let me come see Harry before he returns to school.
All my respect,
S.B.
Miranda pulled the other paper from the envelope and nearly dropped it in absolute shock.
It was a check for nearly five hundred thousand dollars. That was a joke, not a bribe.
Forgetting entirely about Mister Russel in 6581, Miranda stormed away to find some paper to write back Sirius Black.
Sirius Black,
I do not need thanked for raising my son. I do not want or need accolades. I am grateful that I was the one chosen to be his mother.
I understand that Harry said you were the one who bought him his broom to replace the broken one and I will accept that it was a gift (a dangerous and foolhardy gift) to your godson. I do not accept any form of ‘child support’ or financial support otherwise.
You will not bribe me into seeing my son, you will prove that you can be a safe harbor and good influence for him then you may see him.
Take your money back and buy a proper haircut.
Sincerely,
Doctor Miranda Bailey
The day after Harry was discharged, the same day that his ‘friend’ (and Miranda had eyes, thank you so much) arrived, so did another letter from Sirius.
Miranda had been busy packing the van they rented to drive down the coast and it was Harry and Cedric who brought her the letter.
Now, Miranda wasn’t saying that Cedric Diggory seemed to be a very nice boy, and his parents had been just as nice even if they didn’t understand a thing about either Miranda or Tucker’s jobs, but that boy was whipped for Harry. He had arrived that morning with his parents and had been following Harry around like an older, golden-haired, puppy all day.
Harry showed him their yard and the treehouse Tucker built with him the summer they moved in. Harry showed him the comic book collection that was half-Miranda’s and half-Harry’s. Tucker had pulled a face when Cedric said that he thought Harry looked like Clark Kent.
“It’s sweet,” Miranda whispered to Tucker, glaring at him and daring him to make a scene.
“I’m not saying it wouldn’t be, if they were older,” Tucker stressed.
Miranda gave her good Baptist raised man a quick kiss, grateful again that he was the one that she got to raise her babies with.
Cedric was good for Harry to have around, Miranda saw proof of that when lunch rolled around and she carefully watched Harry eat. Cedric talked and laughed and tossed grapes to Harry and Harry laughed and talked and tried to catch the grapes in his mouth.
So the boy might be a couple years older and Harry was always going to be Miranda’s baby, but they were sweet.
“Hello, Mrs Bailey.” Cedric had one of the flowers that Harry grew out by the tool shed tucked in his hair, the same as Harry, and he politely held an envelope out to Miranda after she loaded the last suitcase in the car.
“It was delivered by a parrot, Mum,” Harry said, grinning so hard. It was the same grin he always wore, but he looked better with a flush to his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes.
Miranda though maybe his lips were a little too red, but it was innocent enough for her to let go.
“A parrot?” Miranda echoed, accepting the letter from Cedric. She looked down at the letter and only didn’t roll her eyes because her son was watching her and Miranda was meant to be the example of maturity for him.
The handwriting was recognizable and the ‘Doctor Miranda Bailey’ it was addressed to could only be from one person.
Doctor Miranda Bailey,
If I said I got myself a perfectly appropriate haircut, do you think I could come see Harry and introduce myself properly to your family? His birthday is in a few days, I’d like to bring him something. Is your other son a wizard? I thought Harry said his birthday was July 30th?
Call this a gift for your family then if you don’t accept ‘financial support’. My family was sickeningly wealthy and they’re all dead now. I’d like to waste it on the family I have left.
Respectfully, and with shorter hair and cleaner clothes,
Sirius Black
The damn check had doubled and Miranda finally understood the term ‘sickeningly rich’.
Miranda and Tucker talked about it when the kids had all fallen asleep in the van with a Disney movie playing for them.
“Mandy, he is on the run from the law,” Tucker said with his hands gripping the steering wheel hard. “Do we want that kind of influence around Harry?”
“He was sent to prison without a trial,” Miranda whispered. “From what Harry said, he left to protect our son from a killer.”
“You know how Harry is though, babe…” Tucker glanced up in the rearview mirror and his hard tone softened when he saw Harry with one hand on Tuck’s stomach, his head lolled over on Cedric’s shoulder. “He sees the best in everyone.”
“He’s a good boy and if he wants to see his godfather…” Miranda reached over and put her hand on Tucker’s thigh to squeeze reassuringly. “It’s not a bad thing to give him more family.”
Tucker huffed and puffed and gave in by the end. The only caveat he had was the same one Miranda did - no more damn checks.
Sirius,
You may visit on August 24th. You will be polite, respectful, and set a good example for Harry. You will not put muddy paws on my front door and you will not bring anything insane or dangerous to my house.
You will also stop sending me checks if you know what’s good for you. We do not want your money, we do not need it.
Sternly,
Miranda Bailey
After a week of going back and forth over it, Miranda and Tucker decided to let Harry give Hogwarts one more try. It had more to do with Cedric’s influence than anything.
That boy made Harry want to be healthier, he made him act happier. Miranda couldn’t deny what she saw with her own eyes and couldn’t deny Harry when he begged and promised to write weekly.
Miranda and Tucker also met with Cedric’s parents at the end of their trip and allowed Harry to go stay with them for a weekend in late August. There was some big quidditch event happening that they were going to take the boys to and they said that they could take them to get Harry’s school supplies as well.
It meant that Tucker had to take Harry for a drive one evening before he left, have a ‘man’s talk’ with him. Harry came back red as a tomato and didn’t look his dad in the eyes for days.
“It’s not funny, Mandy,” Tucker said with his grumpy face when Miranda commented on it. “Have you read about boarding schools, woman? Those kids get up to all sorts of things.”
“I have read about boarding schools,” Miranda said with a little smirk as she fed Tuck his lunch. “I just think that it is funny that you went and made a big production out of telling our son how to stay safe. But what would I know, hm? I’m not some manly man,” she said mockingly.
Tucker paused behind her so he could bend down and kiss the top of her head.
“And I thank God for that,” he said reverently. “I had to do too much research for that talk for me to ever even want to see a man undressed again.”
Miranda snorted and Little Tuck laughed.
It was nice, peaceful.
Then Harry went on his little trip and was brought home a day early. Cedric’s dad, a nice - if strange, but Miranda didn’t judge - man said that there had been a protest of some sort and he didn’t think it was safe for Harry to be there.
Miranda had been at work when Harry was brought home and Tucker didn’t think he understood the exact message he had been given. Miranda was confused, but grateful that the Diggorys had made sure her son was safe.
Harry was more excited to see Sirius than he was worried about whatever happened at the quidditch match. Miranda got a two hour explanation of what happened in the match then a thirty second mention of ‘oh, some purebloods attacked muggles and scared everyone’ about the protest.
Miranda also had to listen to Harry go on and on about Cedric Diggory the evening before Sirius arrived. Miranda and Harry were at the table together, trying to set up a food diary that wouldn’t cause any regression. No calorie counts, no weight recorded. Only spaces for Harry to write down what he ate during his meals.
It was not required, the dietician at the hospital had said that it might be helpful for Harry to have when he wasn’t home.
“Mum?” Harry was doing his best to eat a snack while they worked on the journal together. They were trying to make it a fun journal, one with stickers and photos and too many little lions drawn on the pages.
“Yes, baby?” Miranda was cutting a photo they had taken on their trip of Harry and Cedric hiking together. It was a sweet photo and the healthy look Harry had made it that much sweeter.
“How’d you know that you loved Dad?”
Miranda smiled while she kept carefully cropping the picture so they could post it on one of the pages. She was not surprised by Harry’s question, Miranda could remember being a teenager and thinking her first crush was love.
“Well… your dad and I got to know each other, we became comfortable with each other, and eventually I knew I loved him,” Miranda said, pausing only long enough to smile at Harry. “Any particular reason you’re asking?”
“Nope.” Harry shoved the slice of celery he had in his mouth and shook his head.
“Mhmm,” Miranda hummed. She passed Harry a paper towel for the peanut butter on his lip and shook her head playfully. “You tell Mister Cedric that I think Diggory is not as nice of a name as Bailey though.”
“Mum, that’s embarrassing,” Harry groaned, so perfectly fourteen of him.
Embarrassing as she might be, Miranda had no trouble teasing her son while they finished their craft up that evening. Harry did a lot of blushing and stuttering, but it was sweet.
Then Hurricane Sirius arrived.
Sirius was punctual, he was clean and looked like a grown man should. He was respectful to Tucker, kind to Little Tuck, and he had Harry grinning from ear to ear with endless stories of Harry’s biological parents.
Miranda thought that Sirius sounded like a class clown, the kind of boy she would have steered clear of when she had been in school. It seemed to her that Sirius had not matured all that much since his school days, but Azkaban didn’t sound all that conducive to maturing and being rehabilitated.
There had been no issues at all with Sirius being there until dinner.
Then Sirius made a stupid comment while they were eating and Miranda had to pull him outside by his ear.
“We do not tell Harry to eat more,” Miranda scolded Sirius once they were on the porch and the door was shut. “Good Lord, what is wrong with you?”
“What? What did I do??” Sirius raised his hands and Miranda swore she saw real fear in his eyes. That was good, it meant that Miranda wasn’t losing her touch, getting turned soft by her sons.
“He barely ate! That was all I said!” Sirius cried, like a fool. Not a cruel fool, only an uninformed one, that was what Miranda had to remind herself of.
“Do you have eyes? Do you think he is a healthy size for a boy his age?” Miranda hissed. “Mealtimes are peaceful times, we talk about fun things and not food. You need to do research if you plan on being around for more mealtimes.”
“I…” Sirius Black kicked one of his feet out and looked down, then looked back at Miranda somehow with the same damn shy smile that Harry would give her. “I’ll do research, if you tell me what I’m researching. I’d like that, to be invited back.”
Miranda could not be charmed, she could not be bribed. Miranda did apparently have a soft spot for shy smiles and boys and men who wanted to be a part of a family.
Sirius showed up for dinner every day until Harry was set to return to school. Even when Miranda was at work, Tucker said that Sirius went out of his way to tell his ‘best stories’ during meals to distract Harry.
Miranda thought, foolishly, that Sirius Black would not be a nuisance and would be a fine addition. Neville Longbottom was a fine addition when he visited, Cedric Diggory had been more than acceptable.
Sirius Black was a pain in the ass.
Harry had been back at Hogwarts for a week when Miranda was called to the Chief’s office.
It had already been a bad day with a patient dying from complications on the table - a young mom, with a little girl who had given her a good luck kiss before she went back. Then there were some hotshot new interns who thought that the on-call room was an acceptable place to be doing their best impression of dogs in heat.
Miranda wanted to go home to the son she could kiss and cuddle and she wanted a glass of wine while she hopefully read her first letter of the school year from her oldest son. In that order.
What Miranda did not want was to be sat down by the chief and told that some nonsense had transpired the night before.
“Miranda.” Chief Webber sat in his desk chair and stared at Miranda with half a smile and his arms crossed. “Who have you impressed lately?”
Miranda wasn’t going to play guessing games, not even with the Chief of Surgery.
“I hope you, sir,” she said. “I am hoping you’ve called me in here to tell me that I am setting an exemplary example as a surgeon within your hospital. Because otherwise, sir, I have patients who need my attention.”
Chief Webber chuckled and reached in the breast pocket of his lab coat to pull out a slip of paper. He placed it on the desk between them and slid it over for Miranda to read.
“You’ve impressed someone a hell of a lot more influential than I am,” Chief Webber said. “And they’re donating handsomely to the hospital in your name.”
Miranda knew - she damn well knew - before even looking what the handwriting would be. Miranda did not have any recent rich patients, Miranda had a new rich nuisance who had doubled the last check he mailed.
In the memo line, it said: ‘I researched.’
“Sir, if you let the hospital cash this check, I will quit.” Miranda took a deep breath and looked her chief square in the eyes so he could decide which was more important. “This is not a kind patient, this is an irrational man with more money than common sense.”
“Miranda, this is new wing money,” Chief Webber said, his finger hovering over the check. “This is research labs and state of the art equipment money, Miranda.”
“This is idiot money,” Miranda countered. “Cashing this check, sir, would be telling an idiot that he can spend his idiot money as idiotically as he wants. Is that the sort of hospital we are, sir? Do we encourage idiots to do idiot things?”
“If it means donations like this? Yes,” Chief Webber said, just as stubborn as Miranda. “If someone is rich and stupid enough to donate this kind of money to us? Then I will name a new emergency room after this idiot. Look,” Webber sighed when Miranda looked unimpressed with that argument, “Miranda, I’ll hold off on cashing this while you settle with the idea. But this?” Webber picked up the check and waved it.
“This is medical advancement, Miranda. And it was donated in your name.”
Miranda waited for Harry’s owl to arrive with his letter that night and made sure she sent her back off with a letter to Sirius and her reply to Harry. Sirius said that he wanted to settle in somewhere near Hogwarts, to keep a closer eye on Harry.
It meant Miranda could chew his ass in one letter and keep in contact with her son in another letter.
Harry wrote about a flashy new tournament that was happening at his school, one that had the audacity to cancel quidditch for the year. Harry said that Cedric was going to compete and how Harry told him it sounded dangerous.
He signed it off the same way he always did:
I miss you. Don’t forget me. Tell Dad and Tuck I said I love them too.
Love, Harry Bailey
Miranda shouldn’t have read Harry’s letter before she wrote to Sirius Black. It took some of the sting out of her words, but she hoped that he got the message that he was to call Chief Webber, tell him he came to his senses, and to… to… to not send medical advancing levels of donations to Seattle Grace in Miranda’s name.
Sirius Black was a pain in Miranda Bailey’s ass.
*****
The day that Cedric Diggory was buried, Sirius was there. Harry stood between Miranda and ‘Padfoot’ and watched with hollow eyes as his first love was buried and there wasn’t a single thing Miranda could do to make that an acceptable loss for him.
If Miranda were honest, it wasn’t an acceptable loss to her. Cedric had been a good boy, a sweet boy. To be killed in a graveyard? By a wizard who tried to kill Miranda’s son?
It was horrible, it was one of the worst things that Miranda had ever experienced.
To see Cedric’s parents sobbing by his casket, to feel their pain so acutely and know that it was nearly Miranda’s pain as well?
Miranda wasn’t too proud to admit that she had drawn a small amount of comfort from Sirius who had done the work to ensure that she and Harry could attend the funeral.
Sirius wasn’t just there for Harry, though he had been the one who returned Miranda’s son home to her and who didn’t leave Harry’s side that entire summer. When Harry inevitably ended up spending two weeks inpatient at Seattle Grace, Miranda did the paperwork to register Sirius’s mangy mutt self as an emotion support animal so that he could stay with Harry.
It was a long summer, a hard one for them all.
Harry was depressed, he was struggling. Miranda and Tucker were scared out of their minds, unsure what they should do. There wasn’t a parent’s manual for protecting their magical son who had his own evil villain after him.
Did they need to move? Pull Harry from Hogwarts? Hire magical body guards?
Miranda was prepared to do all the above until Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Harry’s school and supposedly great and terrifying enemy of ‘Voldemort’ showed up at their house. Dumbledore told them solemnly that Harry’s safety was the most important thing to him and Sirius told them that Dumbledore was the only person that Voldemort had ever feared.
According to everyone, Voldemort would never step foot near Hogwarts while Dumbledore was there.
Tucker didn’t like it, Miranda didn’t love it… but Harry said he wanted to go back and they were told he would be safe.
Miranda was told that her son would be more safe at Hogwarts than he would be anywhere else in the world. Miranda was told by the Headmaster of the school that he would make sure that Harry was checking in with the school nurse at least every other week, that he would be taken care of.
Sirius said that he would go back to England, stay close to Harry.
Miranda wrote to Sirius as much as she did her son that year.
Sirius sounded lonely, he talked about living in his childhood home and how it was ‘a far cry from their home’. Harry sounded unhappy, he wrote about his friends walking on eggshells around him, comments kids were making about Cedric’s death, and a teacher that he didn’t like.
The two of them were both breaking Miranda’s heart, over and over in every letter they sent.
Miranda and Tucker talked a lot that year about bringing Harry home. There were some letters that were so shaky, so short, that Miranda sent her own letters to Dumbledore reminding him of his word to keep an eye on Harry.
Harry’s safety was as important as his health, his ability to learn magic was not their top priority. If it would keep Harry safe, it was important, but Miranda’s son was not a soldier and she wouldn’t have him trained to be one.
Surprisingly, it was Sirius who sympathized the most with Miranda. He told her that Miranda reminded him of James Potter’s mother, who had the same fears when the first war had broken out.
And if that was meant to be a comfort, it was not, as Miranda reminded Sirius in her reply. James Potter had died at only twenty-one years old.
In late May, when Miranda was praying three times a day and counting the hours until her son and his irritating and irreplaceable godfather were back home, Miranda received a letter from Sirius.
Miranda,
I’ll be glad when summer arrives. I know that I might be making something of a pest of myself in your home, but I’m just selfish enough to not make myself leave.
I am sorry if my last letter distressed you, I only meant to say that James’s mother was also a good woman who raised a good son. I will never stop mourning James and Lily’s death and hoping for justice to be done for them, but I am glad still that Harry found a family with you and Tucker.
I think that Harry is becoming the strong, resilient, and kind man that he is thanks to you and Tucker. For that, I will always be grateful.
Counting the days until you can criticize my hair again,
Sirius Black
It was the last letter that Sirius sent to her.
Harry was returned home not by Sirius or Padfoot but by Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Arthur Weasley.
Harry was pale, he was thin, he threw himself at Miranda the second he saw her. Then he broke Miranda’s heart with the first words she heard from him in months:
“He’s gone, Mum. Sirius is gone.”
There was no body to bury, not enough prayers in the world to be offered up in Sirius’s name.
Miranda could only do one thing for the man who infuriated her and charmed his way into her heart with the love and concern that they had shared for her son.
“Chief Webber.” Miranda let herself in the Chief’s office, dressed in her Sunday clothes right after the service she attended with her family, and did what she felt in her heart was the right thing to do.
“I want you to cash that check,” Miranda said, working hard to keep from crying when she thought of the man who had found a loophole in her orders to not send money to her family.
“I want Seattle Grace to cash that check when, and only when, we find a way to use it to - to do something big, sir.” Miranda fanned a hand in front of her eyes and swallowed, refusing to break down in front of Chief Webber. “Something larger than life, something that will last long after we’re gone, sir. I want us to find something amazing and life-changing and I want it named after Sirius Black.”
Miranda wanted the world to know that a good man, a stubborn and ridiculous and impulsive man, had died. Miranda wanted Sirius Black’s name to mean something to the world.
Miranda wanted people to know that Sirius Black had died and the world was a darker place for it.