Chapter 2
Finally, they were alone, sat around the small fire Kreacher had started in the fireplace. “Master has a child! Youngling again in the house, oh yes. Kreacher hasn't seen someone this small since Master Regulus! Oh yes, indeed.” The elf had mumbled happily to himself when introduced to their newest residence.
Severus was perched in the large armchair closest to the fire, watching the flickering flames with those wide eyes. What horrors had they seen? Sirius thought, standing by the door and watching. There was something in those deep orbs, something is hidden behind fear and phobia.
It was hard to think the tiny little boy curled up in the old black robe with sharp hips and ribs that were countable under the tightly pulled pale skin would grow up into a snide, horrid, vicious man with poison like words that oozed hatred in every direction. Maybe Sirius could change that? Raise him right, teach him and shower him in affection.
Would Severus remember? And if he did, what would he think of Sirius? Sirius could keep up the tough guy act, treat the kid like the man he would turn out to be but he just couldn't. Sirius wasn't evil, he wasn't cruel or spiteful (well he was but not to a fucking kid,) and Sirius wasn't about to act like that. If he was going to a parent than he was gonna be the best fucking parent known to the wizarding world!
Sirius’s train of thoughts was cut off short by the sound of the basement door creaking open. He peered through the kitchen door as Remus finally appeared, two old cardboard boxes in his arms. Both were labelled in dark curved writing; Toddler clothing. Dust covered the top of the boxes, obviously unopened for quite some time. Remus placed them down carefully on the kitchen table. “How old did Albus say he was?” Remus asked, rolling his sleeves up to expose scarred arms.
“Didn't say. He looks around two or something, I don't know. He’s so... tiny.” Sirius sighed, opening up the box and checking out the outfits. Sirius scowled, sticking out his tongue at the dreadful outfits he and his brother once wore.
Remus frowned, an equal expression on his face. “I could cast a couple charms on these, make them a bit more.. modern. We ought to take him to Poppy, get her to check him out,” He murmured softly, starting to charm the Victorian-like baby clothing. A white little toddlers dress into a soft black onesie, any other colour on Severus besides black and green just seemed wrong.
Sirius was eager to take the new onesie out of Remus’s hands. “Good plan but a dog can't carry a baby through the halls of Hogwarts, the medical tip will have to be in your department, Dad,” Sirius said with a snicker, leaving the kitchen to go to his new responsibility.
“The only time I want you calling me that is when you scream Daddy in bed!” Remus called through the corridor, a warm laugh leaving his throat.
The sound of Remus’ amusement bought a happy bubbly like feeling to Sirius’s chest, making him feel giggly. He approached the toddler slowly, hands raised to show he meant no harm. “Hey, little buddy… We got you some clothes, you can come out of that silly old cloak now.”
Severus visibly tensed, his tiny little fingers gripping the cloak tightly, pulling it closer to his chest. He shook his head, a tiny whimper escaping him. “Don't wanna let go…”
Sirius realised quickly that this was indeed a four-year-old and not an angry potions master. He got to his knees in front of the chair and slowly held his hand out to the child. “Can you tell me how old you are?” It was worth a shot.
Severus hesitated, eyes narrowing in suspicion but he complied. Slowly he raised three small fingers, mouthing numbers to himself as he looked at them. “Four.” Severus finally said, lips twitching into a smile but only for a brief moment.
Sirius smiled a cheerful smile and nodded along. He moved his hand forward and slowly raised the fourth finger. “That's four, Sevvie. Alright, little bud. Let's get you in some clothing and then you can sit back in your cloak again, okay? I won't take it, I won't touch it. Pinkie Promise!” Hey, this parenting thing isn't too hard!
Severus watched for a few moments, eyeing Sirius up. Threat or Friend, he was undecided. Past experiences have taught him to be wary of adults, strangers or familiars. Severus dropped the cloak without hassle, the warmth from the fire was a welcomed feeling on his bare skin.
Sirius paused for a moment to take in the sad sight of such an underweight body, ribs and bones poked out under the paper thin skin. Purple, green bruises flowered in odd spots around the boy's body. The worse bruising was along the skin of his back, faint scars Sirius instantly recognised as one made by the afflictions of a belt. “Oh, Sev… I'm sorry.” Sirius whispered. He helped the small boy climb into the comfortable PJs and charmed it to stay warm. Sirius watched him bundle himself back up into the ragged cloak he assumed Severus must have been wearing when this happened.
Severus was fed baby milk that night, Remus suggesting it may be wiser to feed liquids and slowly work up to proper solids. Severus sucked the bottle dry, like a vampire starved for blood, but the moment his tiny tummy was filled with heated milk and a blob of sweet honey, his eyelids dropped like heavyweights.
Sirius put the child to bed in the old nursery, amused by the thought that Severus would have approved of such a dark gloomy place for his four-year-old self to spend the first night. A quick kiss to the cheek and pat on the back was enough to comfort for such a touch repulsed child.
The moment the playroom door was shut the flask was unscrewed and downed. Memories began to haut Sirius and that night was going to be a bumpy one.