Another Cheese Sandwich

Winter comes quickly, the house filled with holiday decorations and blazing fires kept up by Kreacher. Harry hadn’t liked the house elf at first, scared by his glaring eyes and pinching fingers. But then Harry made his bed every day for a month and swept up a broken pot of soil that had fallen and Kreacher had left a fresh chocolate cake in the kitchen for him.

The morning after the first real snowfall, Remus Lupin rises early. His joints stiff and cracking as he climbs out of the warm cocoon he and Sirius make together.

He can smell the snow in the air and despite his aches and pains, he smiles.

Remus sneaks out of bed and downstairs, waiting for the sun to rise just enough that they won’t get frostbite if they go outside.

He makes sure to find all of the ingredients for his Mum’s hot cocoa and then heads for the foyer.

“Harry, up and at ‘em!” Remus calls from the bottom of the stairs, already shoving his arm into the sleeve of his coat.

It takes a minute but then the sound of small feet padding down the hall comes from above.

A tired boy wipes sleep from his eyes and stops at the top of the steps.

“What’s happenin'?” He asks when he spots Remus, clad in his brown jacket.

“It snowed,” Remus says, smiling brightly.

Harry blinks, still half asleep and tilts his head.

“Accio snowsuit,” Remus casts, Harry’s brand new bright red snow suit whizzes past him. “Get dressed. The snow is perfect for an igloo!”

Harry is awake now, but he is still confused. 

Sirius emerges from his and Remus’s bedroom, bleary eyed and following the sound of voices.

“Morning, Sprog,” he ruffles Harry’s hair. “What’s going on?”

“Moony has lost it,” Harry says.

“I have not! It snowed, Pads, it snowed,” Remus turns for the door, energised in a way Sirius hasn’t seen in nearly a decade.

“Ah,” Sirius says, understanding. “Harry, I think Moony wants to play outside, in the freezing cold snow.” He mutters the last few words, already thinking of the hot chocolate Moony had better make him after this.

“Oh. Um. How?” Harry asks, looking nervous, but also finally awake.

Sirius does a double take and does what he has learned to do over the last couple of months.

Ask himself what possible reason Harry might have to be hesitant.

“Do you not like the snow?” He asks, trying to be gentle.

“Aunt Petunia never let me outside when it snowed. Didn’t want me bringing in mud,” Harry tells him softly.

Remus has deflated a bit at the bottom of the steps. 

“Well, you know I love a good mess. Besides, I believe I heard mention of an igloo?” Sirius smiles at his godson and then his Moony.

Harry smiles and nods, pulling his snowsuit right over his pyjamas.

“Sirius, you need something heavier than flannel pants,” Remus tells him.

Once they are sufficiently bundled up, they head out into the snow and Sirius is for once grateful that they fixed up the back yard. There are several inches of snow on the ground. Fresh and light. Remus was right, the conditions are perfect.

Sirius hates seeing how hesitant Harry is to play. How he just stands there, letting the snow pepper his hair.

“Alright, so we should start with a snowman!” Remus announces, already rolling a small ball of snow across the lawn.

“He’s going to need a lot of help, Harry. He gets winded pretty quickly nowadays.”

Remus objects to that classification, but they all join together to roll the biggest snowman they can, and Harry gets to pick the arms, and the stones to use for the buttons. Then he watches in awe as Remus conjures a perfectly crooked carrot for the nose and then enchants the snowman to smile and laugh and spin in it’s place.

“Your nose is brighter than Ronald’s,” Sirius says after about an hour of playing in the cold air.

Harry crinkles his brow and tilts his head to the side.

“Rudolph,” Remus fills in the gap.

Harry laughs and Sirius asks what he’d said wrong and the three of them stumble inside, soaked through and in desperate need for cocoa.

Sirius puts on a record and they all help make the cocoa, gathering around the stove top for warmth.

“I think he might get lonely,” Harry says as the three of them sit down to sip on their mugs.

Sirius and Remus share a look. Neither of them is following the young boys train of thought.

“Who might get lonely?” Remus asks.

“The snowman. I think he might need friends,” Harry says.

Sirius and Remus had been talking about that a lot. Harry needing friends, not the snowman.

They didn’t know anyone with kids his age. Sure there was the Longbottom boy but neither of them knew how to get in touch with him.

And they had decided that school would have been too much. Still, he is only a couple years away from Hogwarts. 

“He needs a friend with long hair. And one with scars, like Moony,” Harry continues.

Now they grin.

“It doesn’t sound to me like he needs friends,” Remus says.

Harry looks up, his eyes seeming wider somehow between his round glasses.

“It seems like he needs a family,” Sirius finishes for his partner.

Their Sprog looks between them and goes a bit red.

“I um… I love you both.”

He’s full of surprises. Always.

Tears spring to Remus’s eyes.

“We love you too, Haz. More than anything,” Sirius says.

“More than the sun,” Remus says, thinking of James Potter and the brightness that he shone with.

And the the three of them are crying and their runny noses are more than just time out on the cold.

“It’s here!” Sirius is crowing from the kitchen. Crowing so loudly that the doxies in the attic give a flutter.

Harry smiles, knowing exactly why his Padfoot is so happy.

He swings out of bed and runs downstairs.

“Whoa, slow down,” Moony says as Harry cuts him off at the top of the bottom flight of stairs.

“Sorry Dad!” Harry says, not slowing down at all.

When he appears in the doorway, a bright smile breaks out across his face.

Sirius is waving a small envelope around like a madman.

“It came! It’s finally here! Open it, open it, open it,” Sirius shoves the letter in Harry’s hands, jumping up and down.

“We should wait for Remus,” Harry says, stepping past Sirius to sit at the kitchen table. 

Sirius releases a very dramatic yowl, but sits down in his designated chair and fixes his stare on the doorway.

It only takes a few seconds for Remus to appear, and then both men are insisting that Harry open the letter.

Harry is gentle about it, not wanting to rip the parchment. Thinking about where he could put the small wax seal that proudly displays the four houses of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He doesn’t even read the address.

Mr. Harry Potter

The third floor

12 Grimmauld Place

Islington, London 

Instead he goes straight for the contents inviting him to study at his parents alma mater. All of his parents.

“Go on, read it out loud for us,” Sirius urges.

So he does. He proudly recites the words he’s been waiting for for what feels like a lot longer than three years.

When he finishes, Remus is crying, though Harry pretends not to see.

“Let me see the materials list, I think we’ll get you a solid gold cauldron just to piss Snivellus off,” Sirius says, giddy.

“Sirius!” Moony scolds his husband.

Harry hides his smile behind his sleeve.

“Alright, just a nice pewter one then. But we’ll have to get something extravagant. Maybe a Nimbus 2001.”

Again, Remus has to scold his husband in front of their son.

“They aren’t allowed brooms as first years, Sirius. A fact you specifically should be well aware of.”

Harry’s laugh is impossible to hide this time. They had told him about a bit of trouble Sirius had caused with James and an illegal quidditch league of first years.

“Can I bring Poe?” Harry asks.

Poe is the stray cat that Harry started feeding. The cat that Sirius despises. 

“Definitely,” Sirius says.

“We’ll see. I thought maybe an owl. So you could write to us.”

They haven’t got an owl. Remus does most of his business the muggle way and Sirius loves to boast that he has a landline.

Harry really wants to bring Poe, but he doesn’t push it. 

He’d actually gotten his letter. As many times as his dads had told him not to worry about it, he couldn’t help but be nervous.

He couldn’t help but wonder if everything they had told him, everything they had given him in the last two years, was really real.

“What would you like for breakfast, Harry?” Remus asks, getting up.

“Bacon.”

“Bacon does not a breakfast make,” Remus says, though he pulls the bacon out of the fridge anyway.

Sirius winks at Harry and gets up to help Remus.

Harry rereads his letter, enjoying the sight of his name printed on the fancy parchment.

A school wants him. A school where he’ll be able to make friends and try in every one of his classes. Where he won’t be known as the dangerous kid in torn clothes and broken glasses.

Harry loves having Remus and Sirius to teach him. And he loves the guest teachers that always seem stranger than the last. But it will be nice to have kids his own age to hang out with.

Harry wants what James and Remus and Sirius had.

At Hogwarts.

“Why don’t you go put that somewhere safe. Don’t want to get syrup on it,” Sirius points to the letter, setting the table.

Harry does as asked, bringing the letter all the way to his room and tucking it safely into the trunk Sirius had gotten him for Christmas.

He glances around at his room.

The walls are covered in posters, photos, and concert tickets.

His desk is piled high with books that had made Remus think of him. Notes they’d left to tell him where they were or what they wanted to make for dinner. As a family.

His bed is unmade, preteen Harry having forgotten what it felt like to always need everything to be in it’s place.

Across the room sits the framed photos of his Mum and Da, laughing and doting on him.

Pictures of Sirus and Remus squeezing him between them.

“Harry!” Sirius calls from downstairs.

Harry grabs his broomstick and heads down to breakfast. 

And has another amazing day.