Nearly

The first thing Harry becomes aware of is something cool and damp pressed to his forehead and a muffled voice speaking to him, but he can’t quite make out the words… the next thing he becomes aware of is something solid but soft pressed against him, all along his backside — but no, that’s not quite right, he thinks faintly — no, he’s lying on his back, on top of the solid soft thing… a bed, his mind supplies belatedly and he feels slightly foolish for not realising it immediately… so he’s lying on a bed — his own bed, in fact, he recognises the smell of the bedsheets now…

”… you’re okay, cub…” the voice says softly and he recognises it as his daddy’s now.

Blinking his eyes open, Harry squints up at Remus and catches the look of relief that flickers into the man’s face, before he gives Harry one of his warmest smiles. He then begins to sit back and Harry barely resists the temptation to reach out and hold onto him, scared of being left alone suddenly… but Remus doesn’t leave him, he just leans back and reaches for something behind him — a slab of chocolate, as it turns out — and he breaks off a large piece of it that he holds out to Harry. 

”Eat this, pup… you’ll feel much better…”

Harry wraps his tingly fingers around the sticky piece of chocolate, struggling to grip it as his hands are still numb… not from cold anymore, though, he thinks. Can’t be. Room is hot.Must be weakness, or maybe bad blood circulation… 

He bites off a small piece of chocolate and quickly swallows it down. The effect is instantaneous. What can only be described as warmth spreads throughout his body and he immediately regains feeling in his hands and feet. And he hadn’t even realised he’d been nauseous, until now when the sensation subsides and his stomach settles again. 

Remus smiles down at him, petting his damp hair and readjusting what Harry thinks must be a compress on his forehead.

”What happened…?” he says shakily. 

A dark look flickers past his daddy’s eyes, but he quickly blinks it away again.

”What do you remember?” he asks gently. 

”I was out walking and… something weird happened”, Harry mumbles. ”The sky, it went dark… and it got cold…”

He shivers involuntarily at the memory and reaches out to grab his daddy’s other hand. 

”I felt really weird… like… like empty and sad and…” he trails off and just shakes his head.

”I know”, Remus murmurs soothingly. ”It’s over now.”

”What was it…? Was it… him…?”

”No, no…” Remus assures him, then seems to hesitate for a second before he continues. ”No, it was a Dementor. Or two, apparently…”

”Dementors?” Harry gasps. ”Here? In Hogsmeade—?”

Remus frowns uncomfortably and looks away. 

”Aberforth, the old man who runs the Hog’s Head Inn, said he saw two of them attacking you behind his pub. He… he chased them away and then brought you home”, Remus says thickly, unconsciously tightening his grip on Harry’s hand. 

”There was a creature”, Harry mumbles, thinking back to the moment just before he lost consciousness. ”Like an animal… except it was like it was made of light…”

Remus nods, ”A Patronus Charm… Aberforth conjured it, that’s how he chased the Dementors away…”

”How does that work, will you teach it to me?” Harry asks hopefully.

”That might be a good idea”, Remus nods. ”But it’s very advanced magic, Harry. Way beyond Ordinary Wizarding Levels… essentially, you need to focus on a memory, a happy one, the happiest you’ve ever been… and you need to think really hard on that particular memory, as you say the incantation… like this—”

Remus lets go of Harry’s hand and grabs his wand, then closing his eyes briefly he mutters, ”Expecto Patronum!”

Suddenly a bright, silvery swift shoots out of the tip of the man’s wand and soars towards the ceiling. Harry watches in wonder as it flits between the walls, before finally fading away again.

”Each person’s Patronus is different”, Remus continues in his teaching voice, as he pockets his wand again. ”It will assume the shape of an animal that either represents the conjurer’s personality or essence, or since the Charm itself is built on the recollection of a single talisman memory, its’ form can also represent that particular memory or the essence of a person in the memory, or simply the person that is closest to the conjurer’s heart, such as a lover or a family member…”

”Will it change form if you think of a different memory?” Harry asks curiously, biting off another piece of chocolate and chewing carefully. 

”That’s a very good question, Harry”, Remus says, looking so proud that it makes Harry blush. ”A person’s Patronus can sometimes change form, but it’s very rare and it won’t happened just because you focus on a different memory. Usually it changes if a person has experienced a great shock or an emotional upheaval…”

”Has yours ever changed?” 

”Yes, as a matter of fact. Once… it used to be a wolf…” Remus says with a wry smile.  

”What made it change?” Harry asks curiously.

”You did…”

Harry blinks. Remus eyes turn misty and almost a little sad, but his smile never wavers and he continues to comb his fingers through Harry’s damp hair in his usual soothing manner… Harry wonders whom it soothes the most, though — him or Remus himself…

”At the end of your first year at Hogwarts”, Remus adds and Harry’s heart does a double tap, as his mind flashes back to the moment he woke up in the Hospital Wing, after his run-in with Professor Quirrell and Voldemort. 

He remembers his daddy’s swollen, red eyes filling with joyous tears as he gathered Harry into his arms and hugged him tightly… ”Don’t ever do that to me again, Harry…”

And he also remembers talking to Draco and Ron a little while later, the two of them telling him his daddy had been livid when he’d stormed into the Hospital Wing. 

”To be fair”, Ron had said. ”No-one even knew if you were going to wake up again, so he was probably just dead worried, you know?”

”For many years, the memory — or memories — that I would focus on when conjuring my Patronus”, Remus continues. ”Was when I ran around the Dark Forest as a teenager, with my friends in their animagi forms, during the full moon… but in the last few years it’s been the moment you woke up again in the Hospital Wing, that first time, and I knew you’d be all right… you’re what I hold closest to my heart, Harry. You and Sirius.” 

”But…” Harry says. ”Why a bird?” 

”Well, I can only guess, but… something tells me that you’ll get your wish and your animagus form will be able to fly without a broom.” 

”Really?” Harry exclaims happily, pushing himself up on his elbows. ”You think I’ll turn into a bird?”

”I assume so…” Remus smiles. 

”You think my Patronus will be a bird as well?” 

”Maybe. Only one way to find out!” Remus says. ”But first, finish your chocolate…”

”Chocolate is your answer to everything”, Harry mumbles good-naturedly, smiling around the piece of chocolate before biting a large chunk out of it and chewing happily. 

”A lot of things, but maybe not everything…” Remus mutters. ”Speaking of which… I’ve got you some Dreamless Sleep.”

”Really?” Harry says excitedly around the mouthful of chocolate. 

”Don’t talk with your mouth full…” Remus groans. ”One might think you were raised by wolves!”

”Well…” Harry says slowly, grinning cheekily. 

Remus narrows his eyes playfully at him and Harry giggles. 

”Feeling better, then?” Sirius says, sticking his head through the door behind Remus.

Harry nods, discreetly letting go of Remus hand and pushing himself up to sitting. Remus lets his other hand fall away from Harry’s head and busies himself with removing the compress from Harry’s forehead and folding it neatly. 

”Good…” Sirius says, mirroring Harry’s nod. ”Good, that’s… that’s good…”

Harry gives him a pinched smile and nods again. 

”Well”, Remus says and stands up. ”Dinner should be ready in fifteen minutes, Harry, if you want to freshen up… we’ll go over the Dreamless Sleep schedule after we’ve eaten, okay?”

”Okay”, Harry nods. 

Remus pats him gently on the head, then walks over to the doorway and squeezes past Sirius. The other man backs up slightly against the doorframe to let him pass, then stays like that for a moment, looking between the hallway and Harry’s bedroom floor uncertainly, hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets.

Harry sits up a little straighter and pretends to be interested in the Roderick Plumpton poster above his bed while he licks some chocolate from his thumb and index finger. 

”I’m glad you’re okay…” Sirius mumbles after a moment. 

Harry tears his eyes away from the poster and looks over at him. Sirius shifts his weight awkwardly.

”Anyway… I’ll let you…” he mumbles and gestures vaguely with one hand. ”Yeah…”

Harry huffs in amusement as his dad blushes slightly and then shuffles out of sight. After a moment he can hear his muffled voice out in the kitchen, muttering about Remus being ’so good with him’ and then Remus’s answering murmur, ”You’re doing fine… come here…”

The familiar pause that follows is soon interrupted by an even more familiar smack and Harry quickly jumps to his feet and hurries across the room to slide his bedroom door shut. He likes to be reminded that his dads are in love, and he does like that they’re affectionate with each other… but he doesn’t necessarily need to hear or see them kissing… it’s enough to know that they are. 

*

The next two nights are the best of Harry’s entire summer. The Dreamless Sleep works just as effectively and immediately as he remembers from the first time he took it, and it’s such a relief to feel sleep tugging on him and knowing it’s okay to give in, because the graveyard isn’t waiting for him, that he could almost cry. 

Unfortunately, the schedule that his dads have devised with the help of Professor Snape won’t allow him to take the potion every night, so every third night he has to face his nightmares and the first time, after having had two blissfully Dreamless nights, is almost worse than ever before… he wakes up screaming in panic after only an hour’s sleep and then cries uncontrollably in Remus’ arms for a good twenty minutes, until he manages to calm down. 

But the next time, it gets a little easier… and the time after that, easier still. 

It’s as if the course of Dreamless Sleep has created a solid foundation of calmness in him that somehow spills into the nights when he doesn’t take any potion… and last night, the oddest thing happened. He’d been dreaming about the graveyard as usual, but before the Death Eaters even showed up the dream shifted and he found himself indoors suddenly… 

He doesn’t really remember much about what happened in the dream, because it wasn’t as detailed or vivid as his nightmares usually are, but he’d been walking along a darkened corridor that finished in a dead end and then he’d been left staring at a locked door… and that’s all he could remember when he woke up.

As anti-climactic as that might be however, compared to his recurring nightmare it was a massive relief and Harry wouldn’t mind revisiting the corridor every time he has to go to sleep without Dreamless Sleep. 

The morning mail brings another sun-bleached roll of parchment from Draco and Harry wolves down the remainder of his breakfast in record time and runs back to his bedroom to read the letter in private… a quick scan of the page, before he reads it more carefully, tells him the blonde has signed off with another ’love you’ and Harry’s stomach jolts pleasantly. 

He’s just started reading through the letter thoroughly when he hears one of his dads’ approaching footsteps through his open bedroom door. 

”Harry…” Remus says from the doorway, giving the doorframe a cursory rap with his knuckles. ”Can I talk to you for a minute?”

”Uh-huh…” Harry mumbles, without tearing his eyes away from the letter.

”Let me rephrase that… can I have your attention for one minute?” Remus mutters, entering the room. 

”Sorry”, Harry mumbles. ”One sec…” 

Remus sinks down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, but waits patiently for Harry to finish reading. 

”Sorry, sorry…” Harry mumbles, quickly rolling the letter up again and turning around in his desk chair to face his daddy. 

”Everything alright with Draco?” Remus asks with a gentle smile. 

”Yeah. They’ve left the Pyrenees now and are heading back to Britain. Narcissa probably won’t let Draco visit me before school starts anyway, though…”

”Well, you’ll see him in a few days regardless… I wanted to talk to you about this afternoon. The Order is meeting and—”

”Yeah, I know”, Harry cuts in. 

”Well, after the Dementors’ attack, I really don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone again—”

”Daddy!” Harry groans. ”I’m not a little kid, I can manage on my own—!”

”Harry…”

”I’m fifteen! I’ll be fine—!”

”Harry—”

”I promise I’ll stay indoors, if it will make you feel better! But I don’t want you to miss the meeting and have dad telling everyone it’s because I can’t take care of myself”, Harry insists stubbornly. ”I don’t want the whole Order thinking—”

”Harry!” 

Remus stands up swiftly and strides over to Harry and clasps his shoulders, giving them a gentle shake.

”I’m just saying…” Harry mutters. 

”Why don’t you try listening for a second instead…” Remus says, letting go of his shoulders again. ”I’m trying to ask you if you would like to come with us—?”

”What?” Harry gasps. ”Really? I can come to the meeting with you?”

”You can’t attend the actual meeting”, Remus corrects firmly. ”But you may accompany us to Grimmauld Place and wait with the Weasley children while the meeting is going on, and then I thought we might stay for dinner…”

Harry blinks, hardly daring to believe it. 

”Dad said I could come?” he asks. ”He really said I could come?”

”He’s not happy about it, but yes. If you want.”

”Yeah!” Harry exclaims. ”Yes, I want to, of course I want to! Can I tell Draco about it?”

”Not in writing”, Remus says. ”You’ll have to wait until you see him on Monday…”

”Okay!” Harry nods eagerly. ”I’ll wait… when are we leaving? Now?”

Remus chuckles and combs his fingers through Harry’s hair fondly. 

”Not yet… the meeting isn’t until this afternoon—”

”But I want dad to show me around”, Harry protests. ”Can’t we go earlier?”

”All right, we’ll head over there after lunch. That should give you enough time to roam around together before the meeting. Sound good?”

Harry grins and nods. 

His excitement doesn’t deflate all morning and by the time they’re sitting down to eat lunch, he’s practically buzzing with it and Remus has to tell him sternly to slow down and chew his food properly, before he chokes. Harry hardly hears him though, and he finishes his meal in record time. 

”Well, you still have to wait for us…” Remus points out. 

Harry can swear his daddy is eating slower than usual, but when accused of it Remus simply glowers back. 

Finally, both men have finished eating and the whole family makes their way out of the house and into the street where they can Disapparate. Harry hurriedly loops his arm around Remus’s so that he can Side-Along with him and as the nauseating pull of Disapparation grabs him, he squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath, concentrating on the pounding of his own heart until he feels his feet connect with solid ground again. He sucks in a deep breath and blinks his eyes open, barely noticing the tears that tumble down his cheeks as he looks around in excitement. 

They’re standing in the middle of a small square, surrounded by grimy old stone houses, the doors of which are peeling and slightly wonky. On the pavement in front of the steps to each door, several bulging bin bags have been piled and Harry can see at least one that’s been ripped, rubbish bleeding out onto the ground and having attracted a whole swarm of flies already… 

”This… this is it?” he says carefully, trying his hardest to hold onto his earlier excitement. 

”This is it…” Sirius confirms grimly. ”It used to be a nice area, actually… if my mother had seen this, well… I don’t think it’s actually possible for her to think any less of her muggle neighbours than she already did, but she wouldn’t have been pleased, let’s just put it that way…”

”What number is it?” Harry asks curiously, looking at the many doors for any sign that one of them would lead to a magical household. 

”Twelve”, Remus says, rifling through his pockets. 

”But…” Harry looks between numbers eleven and thirteen uncertainly. ”There’s no —”

”Here”, Remus says, passing him a folded piece of paper. ”Read that… and memorise it.”

Harry unfolds the parchment and quickly reads the short message, the narrow and neat handwriting unfamiliar to him. 

”The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London”, it says. 

Looking up from the note again, Harry’s eyes flit between house number eleven and thirteen eagerly. But nothing happens. 

”Think about what you’ve just read…” Remus says quietly. ”Concentrate.”

”Okay…” Harry mumbles. 

He stares at the clear line between the two townhouses and concentrates really hard on the message he’s just read and no sooner has he thought twelve Grimmauld Place, than another beat-up door suddenly appears from nowhere along that line, soon followed by dirty and cracked walls on either side that push numbers eleven and thirteen steadily apart, until finally a whole new house stands in-between them. 

Number twelve Grimmauld place, the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry thinks excitedly. And my dad’s childhood home!

”All right, let’s go…” Remus says, pulling Harry along gently towards the new set of stone steps that have materialised along with the house. 

The black paint of the door to number twelve is peeling, just like all the other doors in the neighbourhood, but unlike the other doors, a silver knocker sits in the middle of it, shaped like a twisted serpent, and there are no keyholes nor a little flap for muggle mail. 

Remus lets go of Harry’s shoulders and grabs his wand, tapping the door once. Immediately, Harry can hear the clicking and clattering of what sounds like numerous locks opening and then the door slides open with a creak, revealing a dark hallway.

”We must be the first ones here…” Sirius mutters, glancing around him furtively. ”Thought the Weasleys would have been here already…”

”We’re really early”, Remus says. ”I’m sure they’ll turn up soon… now get in quick, Harry. But stay inside the door and don’t touch anything…”

As soon as Harry steps over the threshold he is hit by the stench of dust and sour dampness, as well as a third smell that he can’t quite place… as his dads file in behind him and shut the door again, the hallway is instantly shrouded in complete darkness, as the few windows that Harry had seen from the outside are covered in heavy drapes to keep the daylight out. 

He shuffles further in, to give his dads room and immediately feels his knee knock into something solid next to the door.

”Wait —” Remus hisses urgently and grabs a hold of his arm, but it’s too late. 

Whatever Harry knocked into falls over with a heavy thud and in the next moment a blood-curdling scream rings out in the silence, sending Harry’s heart into a panicked frenzy and he stumbles back against his daddy’s chest in fear. 

”Damn it—!” Sirius barks, shoving past both of them and charging at something ahead of them in the darkness that Harry can’t see.

”Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness—!” a woman’s voice hollers from the general direction of where Sirius went.

”What—” Harry gasps, wondering hysterically if his dad is fighting some intruder in the darkness.

He feels Remus scramble for his wand and in the next moment, all the lamps along the hallway walls are lit and Harry can see Sirius tugging desperately on an old moth-eaten velvet curtain, trying to pull it back into place in front of a massive portrait of an elderly witch… she’s the one screaming, Harry realises with a jolt and stares in bewilderment at her twisted face. 

”Yooouuu!” she shrieks, her eyes bulging incredulously at Sirius, as soon as the lights come on. ”Blood traitor! Abomination!”

”Shut up!” Sirius roars.

Soon, all the other portraits that line the walls of the hallway begin to stir and join in with the screeching and hollering as well, and the noise is so deafening Harry instinctively clamps his hands over his ears. 

”Shame of my flesh! Begone from this place!”

”I — said — SHUT UP ! — REMUS! A LITTLE HELP—?” Sirius barks over the ruckus.

”Half-breeds! Mutants!”

Remus quickly darts forward to help him pull the stubborn curtains into place.

”Freaks! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers —!”

Finally, the two men manage to pull the curtains closed again and an eerie silence falls, broken up only by Sirius panting breaths. 

”Well…” he says grimly. ”Now you’ve met your dear old grandmother, Harry…”

”That… that was your mother?” Harry says, staring in shock at the pulled velvet curtains. 

”Oh yes… in good form, as always… we’ve tried everything to get this blasted portrait down, but she probably put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the canvas. It won’t budge.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say, so he looks around at the other portraits curiously instead. They all seem to have gone to sleep now that Mrs Black have been silenced again. 

”Well, no harm done…” Remus says lightly, if a little out of breath. ”I’ll go wait in the kitchen for the others to show up, if you want to show Harry around, Sirius?”

”What?” Sirius says, frowning.

”Can you show me your room?” Harry asks him hopefully. ”I mean, your old bedroom, from when you were my age? Please?”

Sirius takes a deep breath and holds it in for a second, as if deliberating with himself. But then he nods. 

”Come on, then…” he mutters with a sigh. 

Harry grins excitedly and bounds after him as he begins to lead the way through the house. 

Harry remembers Remus telling him that Sirius had stuck pictures of muggle women on his bedroom walls, but he never said they’d be so… scantily clad… Harry feels his cheeks grow hot as he glances at one particularly perky blonde, straddling a motorcycle. 

Not only is it unnerving to see a photograph so eerily still, but the anatomy exposed is a little more than Harry would have liked to have seen, as well — especially in his dad’s old bedroom! — it was only to piss his parents off, Harry reminds himself. 

He ventures a little further into the room and another poster catches his eye. This woman is a redhead and wearing even less than the blonde, which Harry would have thought impossible but there it is… literally, he thinks. There it is. 

He quickly averts his eyes again. Sirius snickers next to him and Harry throws him a half-hearted glare. 

”Definitely gay, then?” the older man says cheekily. 

”Gay?” Harry frowns in confusion. ”What’s that?”

”Muggle term for homosexual”, Sirius says, smile softening. 

”Oh. Yeah. Definitely”, Harry says, focusing instead on a poster of a motorcycle without any half-naked women on it. 

”Never had any doubts? You never wanted to just try it, with a witch — just to be sure?” Sirius asks him curiously. 

”No”, Harry says firmly, shaking his head and then, a horrible thought occurs to him and looks over at his dad. ”Why? Did you?”

Sirius barks out a laugh and rolls on the balls of his feet, nodding slightly. 

”You did?” Harry exclaims, horrified. 

”I’m not gay, Harry”, Sirius says. 

”What?” 

”I’m, you know… bisexual”, Sirius says and shrugs.

He’s pulling my leg, Harry thinks. He must be. 

The smile slowly slips from Sirius’s face and he blinks, shifting his weight a little awkwardly. 

Oh Merlin, Harry thinks faintly. 

Sirius frowns, ”It’s no big deal, Harry. Really…”

”Does daddy know?”

”Know what? It’s no big deal—!”

”That you’ve slept with other people” Harry demands. 

”We both have!” 

”Really, ’cause I remember daddy saying he’s been in love with you since first year!” 

”Yeah, but…” Sirius huffs in frustration. ”Harry… this thing with you and Draco, you have to understand, that’s… that’s not usually how it goes! People don’t usually meet the love of their lives in first year, and even if they do — like your daddy and I did — they don’t usually get together immediately and then stay together… usually, people experiment, or date other people, or they do get together but break up and… and… sometimes, you get lucky and you make up again…”

Harry blinks. He’s pretty sure his dad has just revealed way more about his and Remus past than he intended to and, judging by the frown on his face and the way he’s avoiding Harry’s eyes now, he’s probably regretting it already. 

Harry’s mind is reeling. 

His dads had broken up? And dated other people? When? 

Or, his mind supplies unkindly. Maybe it was only Sirius who dated other people… experimented… maybe he broke daddy’s heart and —

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself sternly. They were just teenagers and they worked it out in the end.

”Harry…” Sirius mutters, peering up at him through his lashes. ”Forget I said any of that, okay? It’s ancient history… It’s always been your daddy for me, I’ve never loved anyone else. Ever.”

”Okay…” Harry mumbles.

”I mean that…”

”Yeah, okay… I believe you… so did you ever bring him here?” Harry asks, looking around at the many half-naked muggle women on the walls again. 

”No way…” Sirius snorts. ”I never had anyone over… I always hated this place…” 

He trails off and gets that broody look on his face that always makes Harry feel uncomfortable. He desperately tries to come up with a change of subject, but then Sirius seems to throw the mood off on his own, because he blinks and gives his head a little shake, then focuses his eyes on Harry again, giving him a small smile. 

”Look at this…” he says with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Harry follows him excitedly as he walks over to the bed and points to a particular picture pinned to the wall underneath a large poster of a muggle racing car. 

It’s a small black and white picture and Harry has to crawl on top of the bed to get close enough to see what it’s of, and as soon as he does he realises it’s a regular photograph, because it moves… it’s a snapshot of a young man no older than seventeen, sprawled out in the grass wearing only a pair of short trousers and basking in the sunlight, with one arm thrown across his face…  from what Harry can see of him and his lithe frame, he’s very attractive with clearly defined muscles… as if sensing Harry’s eyes on him, the young man suddenly removes the arm from his face and props himself up on his elbows, giving him a dazzling grin. Harry gapes — it’s Remus! 

Sirius snickers behind him as he recoils with a blush. 

”Dad…” he groans, but he can’t help but grin as he continues to stare at the photograph. 

”It felt like a good idea at the time, but I’m regretting that permanent sticking charm now… it was my favourite picture of your daddy, and I can’t take it with me”, Sirius says. ”We were your age when that was taken…”

”Fifteen?” Harry murmurs. ”He looks older…”

”Yeah, he ages a little quicker than us”, Sirius says. ”But he still looks great…”

Harry rolls his eyes, ”Gross…”

”Hah! You thought he was gorgeous before you knew who it was!”

”Did not…” Harry mumbles, blushing furiously. 

”Come on, let me show you something else…” Sirius says, clapping him on the shoulder.

Sirius leads Harry back down to the first floor and a high-ceilinged drawing room with olive green walls peaking out between immense tapestries and large windows covered with heavy velvet curtains in a reather depressing moss green colour. As they step over the threshold, the grimy carpet lets out tiny clouds of dust around their feet. 

Venturing further into the room, Harry can hear a faint buzzing coming from the windows. 

”Doxys…” Sirius mutters. ”We should really get this house cleaned up, now that people are coming here… Molly has been saying it all summer… anyway, this is what I wanted to show you.”

He strides across the room and stops in front of the largest tapestry, peering at it with the sort of grimness that Harry has learned to associate with moments when his dad thinks about certain parts of his past, in particular things to do with his family… and sure enough, when Harry sidles up to him and follows his hard glare, he can see a massive and intricate tree depicted on the tapestry, in golden thread, each branch holding the head of a witch or wizard, like some macabre apples… and across the top of the tapestry it reads: ”The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black ’Youjours pur’”

The Black family tree, Harry thinks, feeling a staggering sense of awe as he looks towards the bottom of the tree trunk and realises it dates back to the Middle Ages. 

He then glances up towards the top of the smallest branches, scanning for his dad’s face… but he’s not there. Harry frowns, opening his mouth to ask about it, but before the words are out of his mouth, Sirius points to a small, round charred hole in the tapestry. 

”I used to be there”, he says, as if sensing Harry’s confusion. ”My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home… Kreacher’s quite fond of muttering the story under his breath, so I knew about it for ages, but I hadn’t actually seen it… until now…”

Harry peers up at his dad’s face, trying to decipher his mood. But Sirius’ face is unusually shuttered. There’s still a sense of grimness to his frown, but he looks more sad than angry… Harry shuffles a little closer to him and sneaks his hand into his larger one. Sirius flinches slightly, but quickly catches himself and gives Harry’s hand a gentle squeeze and smiles at him. 

”We never really had a relationship to begin with”, he says, as if that should make the whole thing better, but Harry thinks it does the opposite. 

”I’m sorry, dad”, he murmurs. 

”I’m not”, Sirius says, flippantly. ”I always hated this family!”

Harry doesn’t say anything else, but he can still detect a hint of sadness in his dad’s eyes as he gazes at his family’s faces on the tapestry. 

”I couldn’t wait to get out”, Sirius continues. ”Then when I was about your age, a little older — I think I’d just turned sixteen — I told my mother about Remus and she threatened to disown me if I didn’t break it off with him, so… I left… went to stay with — with the Potters, actually… I’m sure your daddy have told you that, but… The Potters were really good about it, let me camp out on the floor of James’ room during the school hols, and as soon as we turned seventeen, Remus and I got a place of our own — my uncle Alphard had left me some gold; he’s been blasted off here, too, that’s probably why…”

”Did you ever see your mother again?” Harry asks carefully. 

”Couple of times”, Sirius says. ”Always in a café, because she refused to come to the flat and I refused to come here…”

”I’m sorry”, Harry mumbles again. 

”Don’t be”, Sirius says firmly. 

He pulls his hand away from Harry’s and shoves it into his trouser pocket, rolling on the balls of his feet. Harry gets the distinct feeling he’s avoiding eye contact with him, so he turns back to the tapestry as well, letting his gaze travel to the branch next to the one where Sirius should be… Regulus Black (b.1961 d.1979)… dad’s brother… died at eighteen…

Again, as if reading Harry’s thoughts, Sirius nods towards Regulus’ picture. 

”Regulus, my little brother, was the perfect son I couldn’t be…”

”You never talk about him”, Harry says carefully. 

”Nothing to say”, Sirius says curtly. 

”He died so young, though —”

”He was an idiot”, Sirius mutters. ”Joined the Death Eaters —”

Harry whips his head around and stares at his dad in horror. 

”— got in so far, then got cold feet and tried to back out again”, Sirius continues, shaking his head bitterly. ”You don’t just hand in your resignation to Voldemort, though… it’s a lifetime of service or death… well, he died.”

Harry looks back at the faded picture of the young man. Although Sirius is more handsome, there’s definitely a family resemblance… for some reason, it makes Harry’s chest feel tight. 

It could have been my dad, he thinks. 

Except, no, of course it couldn’t. Sirius would never have join the Death Eaters, or he wouldn’t be Sirius… and as sad as it is to think about a young Sirius running away from home and being disowned by his family, the alternative is obviously a lot worse. Because if Sirius would have been the son his parents wanted him to be, he’d be dead or worse now… 

”There’s Phineas Nigellus”, Sirius says lightly, clearly trying to diffuse the sudden tension and points to a wizard further down the tree. ”He was my great-great-grandfather and the least popular Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had… Araminta Meliflua, my mother’s cousin, she tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal…” Harry blinks, not knowing whether to laugh or be outraged. ”That’s dear Aunt Elladora, she was the one who started the family tradition of beheading the house-elves when they got too old to carry tea-trays… my favourite cousin Andromeda’s been blasted off as well — look —”

He points to another round mark. 

”Well, she would be, married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks — great guy — you’ve met their daughter a couple of times, I don’t know if you remember, Nymphadora Tonks, but she hates it —”

”— when you call her Nymphadora!” Harry says, grinning. ”I do remember her! She kept changing her hair into different colours and making me laugh…”

”Yeah, she’s a Metamorphmagus, she can change everything about her appearance, not just her hair… she actually changed her nose, as well, to make you laugh, but instead you got scared and started crying…” Sirius says, smiling fondly at the memory.

”I don’t remember that…”

”Remus got annoyed with us… anyway, she’s not on here either. My other cousins are still here though, they would be — married into proper pureblood families — see? Bellatrix and Narcissa… and there’s your Draco, as well…”

”What?” Harry gasps, leaning closer to the tapestry. 

A fine piece of gold thread connects Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) to Lucius Malfoy, and then from the two of them sprouts a new small branch, at which end Draco’s head has been embroidered. 

”I keep forgetting you’re related to the Malfoys…” he mumbles. 

He feels slightly weird about that, even though he himself isn’t even related to Sirius by blood, so it doesn’t even matter. 

”The pureblood families are all interrelated”, Sirius says dismissively. ”That’s what happens when you only let your sons and daughters marry other purebloods… there are hardly any of us left now.”

Tearing his eyes away from the picture of Draco, Harry traces the bloodline back to Narcissa and then glances past the charred mark where Andromeda used to be and looks at Narcissa’s sister Bellatrix… there’s something about her heavy-lidded eyes that reminds Harry of something, like he’s seen her somewhere before but he can’t quite put his finger on where… the name too, Lestrange, rings a bell… 

”The Lestranges are Death Eaters, too…” Sirius says bitterly. ”They’re in Azkaban now.”

”For what?” Harry asks immediately, as a creeping sensation begins to stir in his stomach. 

”They tortured Alice and Frank Longbottom, along with Rodolphos’s brother Rabastan and… and Barty Crouch Junior…”

The Pensieve, Harry thinks with a jolt. The courtroom — Barty Crouch Junior calling for his parents and insisting he was innocent — these people were two of the other three; Bellatrix was the woman with haughty look on her face, who at the end of the trial stood proud and said the Dark Lord would rise again and reward them for their loyalty!

”You never said —” Harry mumbles. 

”Yeah, well”, Sirius says shortly. ”What does it even matter? Think I’m proud of having a relative like her? As far as I’m concerned, she’s not my family. None of them are. I cut my ties with the lot of them when I was sixteen!”

”I’m sorry!” Harry blurts, heart beating a steady tattoo in his chest. ”I didn’t mean—”

”Don’t apologise!” Sirius grouses, then spins on his heel and turns his back to the tapestry, his hands deep in his pockets as he glares across the drawing room. ”I just hate being back here, that’s all… it gives me the creeps…”

Harry nods, understanding completely. It’s not the nicest place, that’s for sure… and it doesn’t sound like it was much better when his grandparents were alive and living here either… 

”At least you got out”, Harry says tentatively and Sirius gives him a sidelong glance. ”I mean, it all worked out… in the end… right?”

A small smile finally flickers into his dad’s face and he heaves a tired sigh, but nods. 

”Yes, Harry…” he says quietly. ”It definitely did… I’ve been very lucky, in so many ways…”

He looks away quickly, just as a suspicious sheen appears in his eyes and clears his throat discreetly. Harry’s hand is itching to reach out to him again, but he resists this time. 

”I’d forgotten about that time when Tonks made you cry…” Sirius says in a thoughtful tone of voice.

”She also made me laugh”, Harry says. ”That’s what I remember…”

”Yeah…” Sirius mumbles. ”I can’t believe I found it funny, though… you sort of jumped, all startled and the next thing we knew you were bawling your eyes out and running to Remus, and I felt bad but… I also thought it was very funny, I actually started laughing… Remus was so cross with me…”

He huffs out a half-chuckle and shakes his head. 

”You weren’t, of course. I just had to pick you up and spin you around, and the scary girl with the hawk beak was all forgotten again…”

”Oh yeah…” Harry says slowly, as a faint image flutters to the forefront of his mind. ”I think I do remember that… I thought she was going to peck me!”

Sirius lets out a full chuckle, but it quickly dies down and the smile slowly falls from his face. 

”Truth is, Harry… I look at you now and I don’t see a little boy anymore, I see a young man and I know it shouldn’t matter, because you’ll always be mine and Remus’s boy, even when you’re old and grey, but I just… I just don’t know what to say to you sometimes… it was so much easier when you were little, you asked simpler questions and when you were sad, or scared, all I had to do was lift you up and spin you around like that… I can hardly do that now, can I…"

"You could try…” Harry says lightly, shrugging one of his shoulders. 

”Yeah…” Sirius with a dry chuckle. ”But… I’m not like Remus, I don’t have his… instincts… you know? Half the time I have no idea what I’m doing, and the other half I’m sure I get it wrong anyway, but he… he just knows exactly what to say and do, no matter what the situation is… I envy his and your relationship sometimes — No, that’s not true — I didn’t mean that. I just…”

”It’s okay, dad”, Harry says quickly. ”I get it…”

Sirius’s eyes flits back to Harry’s face and his lips twitch a little. 

”I guess I just wish you felt as close to me as you do to him… I mean… I don’t mean… I just, I want you to know that you can come to me too, if you ever need to talk or… whatever. I might not say the right thing, at least not on the first try, but... I’ll listen and I’ll understand and… and I’ll love you…”

”I know that, dad”, Harry says, smiling. ”I love you too…”

Sirius blushes a bright red and immediately looks away again, clearing his throat a couple of more times, nodding briskly.

”Good… good, good… I’m glad we… glad we had this talk! Let’s go find your daddy, what do you say?”

Smiling wryly, Harry just nods and follows as Sirius strides back across the drawing room and slips out the door, nearly stumbling over the slouched form of Kreacher, as the house-elf shuffles past, muttering to himself about blood-traitors and his poor mistress. 

”That’s enough of your bile, Kreacher”, Sirius snaps. ”Go make yourself useful and do some dusting or something!”

”Yes, master!” Kreacher mutters, bowing deeply, then adding sourly under his breath. ”Master was an ungrateful swine who broke his mother’s heart…”

”My mother didn’t have a heart, Kreacher”, Sirius snaps. ”She kept herself alive out of pure spite!”

Then before the house-elf can mutter any sort of retort, he puts his hand on Harry’s back and urges him to continue walking towards the stairs. 

When they walk into to the kitchen, they find Remus sat at the table chatting with Professor Snape over cups of tea and Harry can literally feel his dad tense up next to him, but pretends not to and smiles at his Head of House. 

”Professor!”

”Hello, Harry… Black…” Professor Snape murmurs, his black eyes darting between the two of them before settling on Harry and softening slightly. ”Have you had a good summer?”

Considering Professor Snape has already helped Harry’s dads devise a schedule for his course of Dreamless Sleep, Harry is pretty sure the Potions Master already knows all about his summer, but he keeps smiling and says it’s been fine. 

”It seems the others are running a little late”, Remus says. ”There’s tea in the pot, though…”

Sirius mutters something about coffee and proceeds to make himself busy over at the kitchen counter, but Harry walks over to the table and takes the seat next to his daddy. 

”How has your summer been, Professor?” he asks politely. 

”Fine, thank you”, Snape says, inclining his head. 

Harry gets the feeling he means fine, the way Harry means it. But since the professor didn’t question his lie, Harry won’t question his either…

”How is the Dreamless Slee—?” 

”Harry, do you want some coffee?” Sirius asks suddenly, rudely interrupting Snape but acting like he didn’t notice. 

Harry barely refrains from rolling his eyes. 

”No, I’m fine”, he says, before turning back to Snape with an apologetic look. ”It’s working really well, I’m sleeping loads better, thank you, Sir…”

Snape gives him a small nod of acknowledgement, but his eyes immediately flit back to glare at Sirius’s back. 

The muffled sound of the front door creaking open and Mrs Weasley’s whispered voice as she shepherds her children into the house cuts through the tense silence suddenly, followed by what sounds hissed bickering from one of the boys and a voice that is unmistakably Granger’s. 

”That will be the Weasleys!” Remus says, sounding immensely relieved. ”Harry, maybe you should—”

”Oh, look, here’s Mundungus, as well… What is that?”

”Oh what now…” Remus mutters. 

”WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!”

All three men let out matching groans, that are instantly drowned out by the piercing shriek from Mrs Black’s portrait that seems to have been woken up again and Harry can’t help a chuckle from escaping, especially when Professor Snape and Sirius immediately glare at one another again, as if the other had mimicked them. 

”— COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE—!”

”Filthy half-breeds! Blood-traitors!”

”—AS IF WE HAVEN’T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT—!”

”Stains of dishonour!”

”—WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS—!”

”Children of filth!”

”—INTO HEADQUARTERS—!”

Mrs Weasley’s voice is finally overpowered as the rest of the portraits join in with the shrieking and hollering, turning the hallway to one jumbled cacophony of noise. 

In the next moment, the rest of the Weasley clan and Hermione Granger come scurrying into the kitchen, all of them looking a little ruffled and none so much as Granger who, Harry supposes, isn’t as used to this kind of display as the rest of the Weasleys, which is probably why she seems almost shell-shocked now. 

”I love hearing mum shouting at someone else”, one of the twins says with a grin, both of whom are hardly affected at all by the screaming match upstairs, which tells Harry they are the most used to it. ”It makes for such a nice change!” he adds, proving Harry right. 

”Heya, Remus! Sirius!… Snape…” the other twin greets the men in the room, before turning to Harry with a grin and a wink.

Harry grins back. 

”All right…” Remus says decisively and pushes to his feet, then continues in his best teacher’s voice. ”Hello everyone. I think it’s best if you all wait in the drawing room while the meeting is going on — it’s the safest room in the house apart from the kitchen, Harry, so please stay there — and someone will come and collect you once the meeting is finished.”

”Any news, Sirius?” the first win asks Sirius pleasantly as he sidles up to him. 

”You heard Remus”, the other man says with a smirk. ”Off you go!”

”Fine…” the boy mutters with an eye-roll and bounds over to Harry instead, clapping him on the back a couple of times. ”Hey, Harry…”

”Hey…” Harry smiles, standing up and following as the others file out of the kitchen. 

”And remember, stay in the drawing room!” Remus calls after them. 

When they’re all safe inside the drawing room and Ginny has shut the door, which drowns out most of the ruckus in the hallway, they all turn to stare almost expectantly at Harry. 

”Er… what’s up?” he says awkwardly. 

”Tell us everything you know”, one of the twins says excitedly. 

”Sorry guys, I probably know even less than you… I haven’t even been allowed to the house before today…”

The twins’ faces fall and their shoulders slump, but they quickly shake off the disappointment again and begin to sell him on something called Skiving Snackboxes, which apparently is some kind of experimental sweets they’ve manufactured themselves that, depending on the particular sweet, will produce all sorts of nasty effects, like nosebleeds and fainting spells… Harry blinks. 

”Why would I want to get a nosebleed?”

”Exactly!” Granger huffs, shooting the twins a disapproving glare. 

”To get out of class, like a particularly boring Divinations lesson  — not that you need help with that, eh, Harry?” one of the twins says cheekily and winks at him. ”Or a test you feel unprepared for…”

”Yeah, but… then I’ll have a nosebleed…” Harry counters. 

”Yeah, but that’s where the genius comes in”, the other twin says, completely ignoring Granger’s loud snort. ”As soon as you’re out of class, or wherever, you just bite off the other side of the sweet, which has the antidote…”

”That… that’s actually really clever…” Harry murmurs. ”I can’t believe no-one’s thought of it before!”

”See…” the older boy says with grin. ”We developed all sorts of sweets last year and during the summer we’ve been setting up a mail ordering company… if you promise not to tell our mum, you can introduce the snackboxes to the other Slytherins…”

”Don’t know that it would be very popular with my friends…” Harry says, smiling at the others’ disbelieving looks. ”Seamus maybe, but the others aren’t quite into skiving off…”

”Come off it—!”

”It’s true.”

”What, Slytherins don’t cheat?”

”Of course we do, but we don’t skive off… that will just come back to bite you on the bum, won’t it, if you think about it… you’ll just have to do the work as homework later to catch up, or if you got out of sitting a test, you’ll still have to sit it later…”

”Yeah, when you’re better prepared!”

”I know”, Harry says. ”I can see the point… but then again, I’m one of the few Slytherins in our year who wouldn’t be prepared for a test in the first place…”

”Oh…” the twins say, disappointed. ”Well… even if it’s just for personal use, then… we can even offer you a friendly discount, even!”

”Hey!” Ron says, shooting his brothers a disgruntled glare. 

Harry looks over at the redhead, realising this is the first time he’s been this close to him since they went to the Yule Ball together. As if thinking the same thing, Ron’s eyes flicker over to him and a bright red blush flares up in his face. Harry gives him a pinched smile. 

”Harry…” Granger says suddenly. ”Have you… erm… noticed any bugs during the summer?”

”What?” Harry says, frowning at the girl. 

”I mean… not just any buys, but… any particular ones?”

”Er… no?”

”Just leave it, Hermione”, Ron mutters under his breath, his blush still making his face look like a tomato. 

”It’s just that… I couldn’t help noticing… at Hogsmeade Station, when you were… er… saying goodbye to your, ehm, friends…”

”Hermione!” Ron hisses. 

”There was a bug!” the girl insists. ”It was flying around your head.”

”Yes…” Harry mutters, remembering the bug she’s talking about. ”What of it?”

”Well, have you seen it again?”

”What?” Harry says bewildered — as if he’d be able to tell one insect apart from all the rest!

”Nothing”, Ron says quickly. ”Hermione, just leave it…”

”Hey, anyone seen Kreacher yet?” one of the twins says suddenly, earning glares from the other three Weasleys. 

”Like that’s better”, his twin mutters. 

”Don’t try and get Harry to join spew!” Ron tells Hermione quickly. 

”Spew?” Harry repeats, feeling more and more bewildered by the Gryffindors — are they always this confusing?

”NOTHING!” all the Weasleys say in unison.

Granger crosses her arms with an annoyed huff, her hair seemingly getting frizzier by sheer frustration. 

”It’s not spew, how many times—?”

”Who’s up for a game of Gobstones?” Ginny suggests, talking over the other girl. 

”What is she even doing here?” Harry asks one of the twins in an undertone, as the others begin to set up the game. 

He shrugs. 

”We’ve tried to get the truth out of Ronnikins, but he claims they’re just friends…”

”Oh…” Harry says. 

He looks in surprise between Ron and Granger and tries to picture them as a couple… but quickly stops again and focuses on the Gobstones instead. 

*

When Harry started practising the Patronus Charm with Remus and the man reiterated the importance of finding a happy memory that’s powerful enough to sustain the charm, Harry thought that would hardly be a problem for him. In fact, as went over all of his happy memories, he realised he would actually be hard-pressed to pick just one… but as the days went on and he only managed to produce some feeble silvery sparks (if that!) he started to realise what his daddy meant… and he also began to feel slightly perturbed; he’s remembering all the times when he’s been the happiest in his life and yet he can’t seem to conjure a Patronus, so does that mean all those times weren’t as happy as he’d thought?

Have I ever been happy at all? he thinks hopelessly as he watches yet another spurt of silvery sparks shoot out of his wand, only to immediately fade away again. 

”Don’t get disheartened…” his daddy says. ”You’re doing really well, Harry… I know you’re feeling impatient, but this is really advanced magic—”

”Beyond Ordinary Wizarding Levels, I know…” Harry mutters. ”I’m running out of memories to try, though…”

”Okay…” Remus says thoughtfully. ”Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe it’s not the quality of your memories, but your concentration… if you just stick with one memory and keep focusing on that, really focus…”

”I am focusing!” Harry grouses. ”It’s not working! I suck—!”

”Okay, that’s it for today”, Remus says firmly.

”No, no, no — I’m sorry — I want to try again!” 

”It’s not going to work if you’re in a bad mood or have a negative attitude, Harry”, Remus says, shaking his head. ”You need to have confidence in yourself and your memory, because if you feel defeated, you are actively working against the charm, you see… this charm is designed to combat Dementors, whose very weapon is the ability to bring out the worst experiences from you, to make you feel depressed and defeated… if you’re already doing that to yourself, well…”

”Oh…” Harry mumbles. 

That makes sense… 

”Tell you what…” Remus says kindly. ”Let’s take a break for now… the full moon is this weekend—”

”I know”, Harry sighs. 

”So why don’t you take the weekend and choose one of your favourite memories… then when I get back, we try again and then I want you to think of just the one memory, the whole time… see if that makes a difference… okay?”

”Okay…” Harry sighs. ”Do you really have to go away for your transformation, though?”

”Harry…” Remus sighs. ”We’re not having this discussion every month.”

”I just don’t like the idea of you being alone”, Harry mumbles. ”Why don’t I go away—?”

”Don’t be silly”, Remus says, pulling him in for a one-armed hug and gives him a peck on the cheek. ”It’s just for the worst couple of days… your dad has taken tomorrow off work, and I should be home again on Sunday night, so I get to see you before you start school on Monday…”

”At least let me start my animagus process already…?” Harry begs. 

Remus looks down at him seriously, a look of deep thought flickering over his face before he blinks it away and smiles gently. He doesn’t answer Harry though, just gives him another kiss, this time on the forehead. 

That evening after dinner, Remus makes Harry a cup of herbal tea and tucks him into bed, as per their new tradition on the nights that Harry isn’t allowed to take the Dreamless Sleep, then sits on the edge of his bed and combs his fingers through Harry’s hair until he falls asleep… it’s worked quite well the last few times, but tonight, Harry finds himself fighting sleep again. 

”Daddy…” he mumbles sleepily. ”I don’t want you to go.”

”Shhh…” Remus hushes him gently. ”Don’t think about that now, just try and relax…”

”I am trying”, Harry mutters, aware that he’s acting like a little child and feeling rather foolish about it. ”But I know as soon as I fall asleep you’ll leave…”

He feels his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, and struggles to stubbornly keep them open. But Remus fingers dragging through his hair is oddly hypnotic.

”I’ll be back before you know it”, the man says quietly. ”And you get to spend the weekend with your dad, just the two of you… Merlin knows what mischief you’ll get up to while I’m away, but I’m sure it’s going to be awesome fun…”

”Awesome fun…” Harry repeats doubtfully, his words slurring slightly as sleep tugs on him. 

Remus doesn’t say anything else. Harry is just about to sit up and demand a reply — they haven’t finished their conversation yet, as far as he is concerned — but first, he’s just going to rest his eyes. Just for a second. Just long enough to let the itchy sensation subside. 

He feels his daddy’s fingers comb through his hair, the fingertips dragging across his scalp. They continue down his neck and arms… no, wait… not fingertips, but bugs… they’re crawling all over his body and Hermione Granger is sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed, watching his face intently as he tries to shake the bugs off. 

”Do you see the bugs, Harry?” the girl asks him seriously. 

”Get them off me!” he gasps. 

”Do you notice anything strange about the bugs, Harry?”

”What?” he gasps, thrashing around, trying to get the hundreds of bugs off him. ”What are you talking about? Just get them off me!”

”They’re not just any bugs, Harry. Look at them. Look.”

”What are you talking about?”

”LOOK AT THE BUGS, YOU PATHETIC HALF-BREED!”

Harry’s heart stutters in his chest and he whips his head around and stares at the girl at the foot of his bed. Except it’s not a girl at the foot of his bed anymore. It’s an old woman and her face is twisted in furious disgust as she looks down on him. 

”YOU FILTHY ABOMINATION!” she shrieks, pointing an accusatory finger at his heart. ”BRINGING BUGS INTO THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK!”

”I-I-I’m s-sorry!” Harry gasps. ”I didn’t mean to—!”

”GET OUT! GET OUT OF THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS!”

Scrambling off the bed in a panic, Harry gets tangled up in his blanket and falls hard to the floor. He struggles out of the blanket and stumbles to his feet, throwing himself headlong out of his bedroom door. As soon as it slams shut behind him, Mrs Black’s piercing screams are cut off and an echoing silence follows… Harry spins around quickly, trying to get his bearings… he’s standing in a dark corridor. 

I’ve been here before, he thinks with a jolt. I know this place. I know where I need to go.

He starts walking quickly down the corridor, his steps echoing eerily around him and he hears his own blood pounding in his ears. 

Not far now…

Finally, he reaches a door at the end of the corridor and his heart begins to hammer harder and harder as he stares at the door handle. 

I need to open the door, he thinks. I need to get to the other side. 

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door and Harry startles. 

”Harry?”

He blinks. His heart is pounding so hard in his chest now, he’s almost worried it’s going to break his ribs and come flying out… 

”Harry? You awake?”

He blinks again. Something is wrong with his eyes… his eyelids are heavy and his eyeballs stick to the inside of them… he presses the heels of his hands against the lids and rubs them. The more he rubs and the more he blinks, the brighter the corridor seems to get… finally, the light is so bright it’s blinding… 

”Hey, sleepy-head… time to get up!”

Harry lifts his head up from the pillow and squints up at his dad, as the last remnants of the dream fades away. 

”Whaaa…” he croaks. 

”It’s almost ten”, Sirius says from the doorway. ”Rise and shine!”

Harry just groans in reply and shoves his face back into his pillow. 

”There’s coffee…” 

Taking a deep breath, Harry pushes himself up to sitting. He hears his dad let out a bark of laughter and gestures rudely in his general direction. 

”Hey, it’s not my fault your hair is allergic to your pillow!” Sirius quips. ”Now hurry up, or your coffee will get cold…”

”Charm it”, Harry calls after him croakily. 

”Nope!” Sirius calls back from the hallway. 

Harry mutters darkly to himself and kicks the blanket away, before hauling himself to his feet and staggering out of his bedroom. 

After three gulps of coffee, he begins to feel alive again and mumbles an apology to his dad. Sirius simply shakes his head with a grin. 

”I would have let you sleep, but… the thing is, I got a floo call from work a while ago and they need me to come in.”

”Daddy said you took the day off”, Harry mumbles. 

”I did, but they need me to come in, just for a second… something’s come up, and you know I can’t talk about it but… it shouldn’t take too long, so I was thinking, I could either drop you off at Grimmauld Place, I think the Weasleys are there—”

”Why?” Harry whines, really not feeling up for socialising with any Weasley right now. ”Why can’t I just stay here?”

”Your daddy would kill me if I left you alone”, Sirius says firmly. ”So either you go hang out at Grimmauld Place—”

”No”, Harry says firmly. 

”Or… you come with me to the Ministry. I can’t take you to my Department, but I’m sure Arthur wouldn’t mind if you just waited for me in his office.”

”Arthur Weasley?” Harry says. ”So my options are, hanging out with the Weasleys or hanging out with the Weasleys?”

”Arthur will be working”, Sirius counters. ”You won’t have to hang out with him… you’d be sitting nicely in his office, staying out of trouble, while I go deal with the emergency in my Department.”

”Sounds fun”, Harry mutters. 

In the end, he decides he rather sit in Arthur Weasley’s office and read the latest issue of Snitch, than play nice with the rest of the Weasley clan. He’d have quite a good time playing Gobstones with them the other day, but it’s not the same as hanging out with his own friends… it’s not as relaxing, because he’s on his guard the whole time. He can’t help it. Being surrounded by gryffindors, especially ones he haven’t quite got figured out — as cool as they are — it is emotionally draining to interact with them for longer periods of time. Especially a whole group of them. 

Hanging out with Ron at the Yule Ball had been very relaxed and fun (disasterous consequences with Draco aside) and he’s pretty sure that he would have a great time if he were to hang out with just the twins for an afternoon as well. But Ron and the twins plus Granger and Ginny, all at once. That’s a lot of personalities to interact with. 

Sirius Side-Alongs Harry to the Apparation point around the corner from the Ministr’s visitors’ entrance, concealed inside a muggle communications’ cubicle called a ’fone-box’ and once they’ve crammed themselves inside it, Sirius lifts the top off the clunky muggle contraption and then carefully turns a dial halfway round, until his finger reaches the number six. He then lets the dial roll back to the beginning with a whirring sound, before he turns it again, this time to number two. 

Harry watches curiously as the dial whirrs back to zero after each number Sirius dials, until finally, the sequence of numbers is finished and a woman’s voice greets them. 

”Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”

”Sirius Black, Department of Mysteries”, Sirius speaks clearly to the muggle contraption. ”And I’ve got my son, Harry Potter, with me…”

”Thank you”, the woman’s voice says coolly. ”Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes…”

With a rattle and dink, something shiny drops out of the contraption and into a small chute at the bottom. Harry fishes it out and holds it up in the light. It’s a small, square badge that reads ”Harry Potter, visiting a parent/guardian”

Sirius puts the top of the muggle contraption back and then helps Harry pin the badge to the front of his robes, as the woman’s voice continues to speak slowly and tonelessly. 

”Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.”

”All right…” Sirius says briskly, as the floor of the fone-box begins to sink with a shudder. 

They continue to sink further and further below ground, until the darkness of the earth has enveloped the small box completely. 

Then, a small sliver of golden light appears at their feet and it steadily grows until the whole box is blasted with light and Harry has to blink several times until his eyes adjusts to the sudden brightness. Finally the box comes to a shuddering stop on the gleaming hardwood floor. 

”The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day”, the woman’s voice says and the door slides open. 

”Come on, this way…” Sirius says and leads the way down the long hallway. 

Harry gapes in astonishment as he looks around. The hall is panelled in polished, dark wood and lined with fireplaces through which several witches and wizards appear in sudden bursts of brilliant green flames as Harry and Sirius amble past. And as Harry gazes up at the ceiling, at first believes it to be enchanted like the ceiling in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, because it’s shade of blue is almost exactly the same as the sky in early evening and it appears to be full of twinkling stars — except they’re not stars at all, he realises quickly — but golden symbols that keep changing. 

”Harry, hurry up!” Sirius calls after him. 

Harry jogs to catch up with him at the end of the Arrivals’ hall and stops suddenly, staring in awe at the sight before him. If the Arrivals’ Hall had been impressive, it is nothing compared to the Atrium. It’s just as bright as the Arrivals’ hall, but massive and in the centre stands a large, circular pool with a beautifully crafted golden fountain in the middle, depicting a witch and wizard surrounded by a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. Jets of water shoot out of the witch and wizard’s wands, as well as from the centaur’s arrow, the tip of the goblin’s hat and each of the house-elf’s bat-like ears. 

The soothing sound of running water is broken up by the crack of Apparation, as Ministry workers pop into existance and shuffle along towards a golden gate. 

”Come on, security is this way…” Sirius mumbles, pulling on Harry’s arm. 

They walk over to a wizard sat at a small desk, under a sign that reads ’Security’ and Sirius sidles up to him, giving him one of his dazzling smiles. The old wizard gives him a half-hearted glare, but puts down his copy of the Daily Prophet. 

”Brought my boy with me today”, Sirius says unnecessarily.

”You’re not bringing him with you?” the security wizard says suspisciously, giving Harry a quick once-over.

”Not downstairs, no”, Sirius says quickly. ”I’m leaving him with Arthur Weasley on level two.”

”All right…” the older man mutters, then turns back to Harry. ”Step over here, then…”

Harry walks over to the spot the man’s pointing to and holds perfectly still as he runs a long, thin golden rod in front of him and then the same along his back. 

”That’s fine”, the man mutters. ”Give me your wand…”

Harry hands him his wand and watches nervously as he puts it on top of a brass scale that immediately begins to vibrate, before spitting out a thin strip of parchment. The old wizard tears it off and then holds it up, close to his face, as he reads the tiny writing: ”Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years… that correct?”

He peers over at Harry, who nods quickly. 

”All right then…” the man mutters. ”I’ll keep this… you get your wand back…”

”Thank you”, Harry mumbles, pocketing the wand again. 

”Thanks, Eric”, Sirius says. ”Don’t work too hard now!”

”Shove off, you…” the old man mutters, settling back into his chair and picking up his Prophet again.

Sirius lets out a bark of laughter, then slaps his hand down on top of Harry’s shoulder and begins to steer him back towards the throng of witches and wizards making their way through the golden gates. Cracks of Apparation can still be heard punctuating the otherwise rather quiet Atrium, most of the Ministry workers still sleepy and not really talking to anyone. 

”Do you usually just Apparate in here?” Harry asks his dad curiously. 

”Sometimes”, Sirius says. ”Most of the time I take the bike and park up the road, though…”

”And then you go through the Visitors’ entrance, like we just did?”

”No, no, there’s another entrance for Ministry workers”, Sirius tells him. ”It’s on the other side of the Atrium and it’s disguised to the muggles as a public toilet…”

”Ew…” Harry mutters. 

”You get used to it…”

They reach another hall and join the queue to one of twenty lifts behind wrought golden grilles, that descends in front of them with a lot of clanking and clanging. Sirius steers Harry in front of him, into the lift and pushes him into the back corner, then angles himself so that he’s shielding Harry slightly from the rest of the crowd. Harry peers up into his face questioningly, and the man gives him a subtle wink. 

”Level seven: Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office…” the same woman’s voice that greeted them in the fone-box says to the lift at large, before the lift comes to a clanging stop and the doors open to reveal a rather untidy corridor, walls papered with countless Quidditch posters in a sort of patchwork style. 

As two wizards disentangle themselves from the crowd and walk out into the corridor, the remaining people inside the lift rearrange themselves automatically and a witch moves to stand next to Sirius. The bored look on her face quickly slips away as she accidentally catches sight of Harry, partially hidden from view behind Sirius and her eyes immediately dart up to the scar on his forehead. Harry shuffles his feet and moves even further into the corner, so that Sirius body is shielding him from the woman completely again, before he quickly flattens his fringe. 

”Level six: Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Centre…”

And so it continues, higher and higher inside the vast Ministry. 

At level three, a swarm of pink aeroplanes zooms inside the lift and flit around the glass of the overhead lamp until they reach level two, where all but one of them zip out of the lift again. Harry follows a few of them with his gaze as Sirius steers him off the lift as well, but almost immediately loses sight of them again when they enter a large, open area divided into smaller cubicles and the aeroplanes scatter and dart into some of those cubicles. 

Auror Headquarters, Harry reads on a lopsided sign hanging over the nearest one, before Sirius continues to push him along, past all the aurors inside their cubicles, like miniature offices adorned with Wanted Posters as well as family photographs. 

After Harry accidentally locks eyes with the young Auror who came to the house to interrogate him, he stops peering inside the cubicles and keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the space in front of him until Sirius steers him round a corner and through a second set of doors. They continue along a dimly lit corridor, turn right into an even dimmer one that stops abruptly in a dead end. Sirius turns to the door on the right-hand side and raps his knuckles against it. 

Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, the sign above the door reads. It swings open with a soft groan and Mr Weasley greets them both with a wide grin and gestures for them to step inside, what turns out to be a rather small and stuffy office without any enchanted windows, into which someone has crammed two desks and endless rows of overflowing filing cabinets.

”Sirius, Harry — so nice to see you both again — come in, come in!” Mr Weasley says. 

”Thanks for this, Arthur”, Sirius says.

”Oh, it’s no bother, no bother at all”, Mr Weasley says kindly, smiling down at Harry as though he was a small boy who needs reassurance and Harry barely refrains from bristling and instead smiles back, albeit tightly. ”Harry, this is my colleague, Perkins…”

An elderly wizard with drooping shoulders and a full head of white hair that reminds Harry of spun sugar, stands up slowly and gives Harry a small nod. Harry nods back stiffly, his smile tightening even further. 

”All right, well…” Sirius says, clapping his hands together and backing towards the open door again. 

”Can’t I come with you?” Harry blurts out desperately. 

”I shan’t be long”, Sirius says. 

”Fine…” Harry sighs. 

”We’ll be all right, you go on ahead”, Mr Weasley says, waving Sirius away before turning back to Harry, again with a rather indulgent smile on his face as he leans down slightly. ”I see you’ve brought a magazine…”

”Yeah…” Harry mutters. 

”It’s a Quidditch magazine, isn’t it, Snitch? Yes, I think I’ve read that a few times…”

”Yeah”, Harry says again. ”It’s the latest issue. I’ll just…”

He looks around for somewhere to sit, but there is literally no available space for a third chair. If he wants to have a seat, he’ll have to hop up onto one of the filing cabinets… As if reading his thoughts, Mr Weasley quickly offers him his own seat at one of the desks. Harry feels a surge of irritation, because there’s no way he can accept the offer — the man needs to sit at his desk in order to do his job, after all — which means he’ll have to continue to stand up, while he waits for his dad… I should have just gone to Grimmauld Place, he thinks surlishly. 

”I’m alright, thanks”, he tells Mr Weasley and moves to lean back against the wall next to the door. 

”You can have my seat”, Mr Perkins says, standing up on shaky legs again. 

”No, really—”

”I’ve got an errand. You can sit at my desk until I get back…”

”Oh…” Harry mumbles. ”All right, then… thanks…”

He sits down in the creaky chair and slouches over the desk, opening his magazine to the first page and begins to read the first article. He’s vaguely aware of Weasley Senior at the desk opposite him, shuffling papers around and reading a memo as it comes zooming into the office after a few minutes. The man sighs heavily as he puts the unfolded aeroplane aside. Harry glances up at him, but says nothing. 

Mr Weasley catches his eye and quickly gives him a reassuring smile, but it barely reaches his eyes this time. 

”So is that a monthly publication, Snitch?” Mr Weasley asks after a moment’s awkward silence. 

”Bi-monthly”, Harry replies curtly. 

”And is that what you want to do when you grow up? Play Quidditch professionally?”

”I dunno…” Harry mumbles. ”Haven’t really thought about it…”

”Ah, yes, Ron’s the same… it’s all fun and games still… but you’ve got your O.W.Ls this year”, Mr Weasley says knowingly. ”It’s all about to change now…”

”What are those?” Harry asks, nodding towards the now destroyed paper aeroplane. 

”Inter-Departmental memos”, Mr Weasley says. ”We used to use owls, but the mess was just not manageable…”

Harry nods, discreetly closing the magazine again when it looks like Mr Weasley won’t get back to work any time soon. They chat for a while, Mr Weasley telling Harry about a series of pranks targeted at muggles involving regurgitating toilets and Harry offering up his favourite school subjects, then politely smiling his thanks when the other man gives him some impromptu career advice. 

”Then of course, there’s curse-breaking. In fact, my son, Bill, could probably give you some insight — oh, here’s Sirius again!”

Harry turns around in his seat, relieved to see his dad come striding down the corridor towards the open door of the office. 

Sirius stops on the threshold and takes one look at Harry and Mr Weasley, as well as the closed copy of Snitch lying forgotten under Harry’s fidgeting fingers and breaks out into a big grin.

”Having fun?” he asks Harry innocently, a tiny tic of a wink the only proof that he is teasing. 

”Oh, absolutely!” Mr Weasley says. ”That’s quite the bright young man you’ve got there, Sirius!”

”Oh, don’t I know it…” Sirius says, clamping a hand on Harry’s shoulder and giving him a small shake. 

”But, it’s a good thing you showed up, actually…” Mr Weasley continues, standing up. ”I’ve had a rather urgent memo that I really must see to…”

”Fine, we’ll get out of your hair”, Sirius says. ”Thanks again — oh, shhhh—oot”, he adds, doing a half-twirl and gazing back down the corridor. ”I’ve just realised — I — I’ve left something on my desk, I have to go back… but it will only take a minute!”

”I’m sorry, old chap”, Mr Weasley says. ”I really need to get going. If Perkins was here, you know — I don’t know where he’s got to…”

”Right…” Sirius mumbles. ”Of course, I understand — damn it!”

”I’m sure Harry can wait in the Atrium, if it’s only for a minute?”

”Yeah, we’ll… we’ll work something out, you go…”

”I’m afraid I’ve got to lock the office—”

”Oh!” Sirius says. ”Of course!” 

He and Harry hurry out of the office, then wave goodbye to Mr Weasley who hurries along the corridor and disappears out of sight. What’s so urgent about a regurgitating toilet, Harry doesn’t understand. Mr Weasley had explained it to him (something about please-men, whatever they are…) 

”Well, come on then…” Sirius says, clamping his hand down on Harry’s shoulder again and steers him towards the direction of the lift. 

”I can wait in the Atrium?”

”No…” Sirius mutters. 

”I can come with you?” Harry asks, hardly daring to believe it. 

Sirius says nothing for a long time, but finally shakes his head with a frustrated sigh and rubs at his own eyes rather aggressively. 

”You’ll have to”, he says finally. ”But you’ll have to wait outside while I run into the office…”

”Level nine: Department of Mysteries —”

”Can’t I see your office?” Harry asks in a small voice. 

”No, runt, you know no-one allowed inside… I’ll just be one second though!” Sirius says, shepherding him out of the lift and into a dark corridor with black-tiled walls. 

”One second, I promise!” Sirius adds before running off, his footsteps echoing eerily throughout the corridor.

”Fine!” Harry calls after him, then mutters to himself. ”I’ll just stand here and wait…”