Chapter Text
What surprised Harry most when Sirius Black came to greet him at the train was not the bear hug he wrapped his godson in, but the genuine smile on his face.
He knew that his godfather had been officially cleared by the ministry, about the same time that Fudge had been sacked, but their last encounter had been brief. Sirius had been taken away, and it was only after Harry received his owl that he learned that his godfather no longer had to be in hiding.
Sirius Black, according to the majority of the wizarding world, was a convicted murderer no more.
While it didn't mean a permanent farewell to the Dursley's, it was close. For the next two years, Harry and Sirius would, go to Number 4 Privet Drive for exactly two weeks before returning to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
Neither was particularly happy about staying in either location. Number 4 because of the Dursley's, and number 12 because it was the remnants of Sirius' childhood.
Both were highly protected against Voldemort, though, and what with it being official that he was back, Dumbledore thought it best to stick with the enchantments that they knew would work.
Harry thought that it might not be quite so bad for his godfather this time, since he wouldn't have to remain confined to the house, and could probably even do work for the Order.
"All right, Harry?" Sirius asked, after finally letting him go from the hug.
Harry grinned at his godfather, nodding. He didn't want to comment on the hug, for fear it would be the last one, or, at least, make it awkward in the future. Sirius hadn't really been the type to show physical affection before. Even though he'd kept his arm firmly on Harry's shoulder a year ago, when he'd told Dumbledore about his encounter with the bodily resurrected Voldemort, the only hug Sirius had given his godson had been the brief one just before they left after the Christmas holidays had ended.
Perhaps, Harry thought, having nearly faced death in the Department of Mysteries, Sirius had changed in more ways than one.
"Need help with your trunk?" he asked.
"There are trolleys we can use until we get to..." Harry trailed off upon seeing the Dursley's.
All three of them wore the usual looks of disdain for Harry, except maybe Dudley, who looked more scared than usual. Perhaps, he was remembering that Harry had saved him from the Dementors.
Or, just as likely, Harry had been the one there when the Dementors came, so what with nearly a year having passed and the influence of his parents, Dudley might well believe that his cousin had sent the Dementors to attack him.
"So," growled Uncle Vernon, eyeing Sirius in his wizarding garb. "So."
"Hello, there. You must be my godson's uncle," Sirius answered, pleasantly enough. Smiling, even, although it was probably a cheeky smile. "I've heard a lot about you."
This, Harry knew, wasn't entirely true. Sirius knew that Harry had lived with his aunt and uncle ever since his parents had been murdered by Voldemort, and that he would have preferred living with his godfather at Grimmauld Place to ever setting foot at Privet drive again. He knew that, upon offering Harry the chance to stay with him, Harry had leapt at the chance despite thinking his godfather had good as murdered his parents hours earlier.
All of this wasn't exactly a stellar endorsement of his mother's family, but it hardly began to tell Sirius just what Harry had suffered during the ten years of his life-and summers in between-before going to Hogwarts.
Uncle Vernon reddened, and Harry wondered just what had been promised or threatened to allow a full grown wizard to take up residence with his family for two weeks for the next two years.
"Let's go, dear, we don't want to be late," Aunt Petunia intervened. "Harry, find a trolley for your trunk."
"I'll do it!" Dudley volunteered, nearly running in the opposite directly.
Dudley, Harry noted, was still massive, but just as in the following year, it was all muscle and no fat. Perhaps, even more muscle than before. Clearly, Dudley was excelling at the one sport he voluntarily played at school.
Sirius turned to Harry with another grin. "Sure you don't want me to do anything to them?"
"No!" Harry practically shouted, before realizing Sirius was teasing.
Well, mostly teasing, in all likelihood.
Hexing muggles wouldn't exactly earn him a life sentence to Azkaban, but it would cause problems and besides, he still hadn't quite forgotten what he'd seen in Snape's pensive.
Hagrid had probably been right to give Dudley a pig's tail nearly five years ago. Or, at least, not entirely in the wrong.
Still.
Harry thought that if they could survive the next two weeks without sending the Dursleys to the hospital and attracting unnecessary attention from the muggle or wizarding world, they would be a lot better off.
Sirius nodded, placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and the four of them remained rooted to their spots until Dudley returned with the trolley.
He even hauled Harry's trunk onto the trolley without too much exertion.
Harry held onto the cage containing Hedwig, rather protectively, as they made their way to the Dursley car.
Since the car wasn't magically enhanced, the back was more than a bit cramped. Dudley had grabbed a window seat, and even though Harry made to take the dreaded middle seat, Sirius got there first. Still, no one was very comfortable on the drive back. Sirius squeezed Harry's hand the whole way, and Harry wished that he could communicate with his godfather mind to mind, because he still had loads of unanswered questions.
He was fairly certain that the house wouldn't be made larger by magic. The Dursleys would never have agreed to this-he would have bet on this. He stood more chance of receiving all "Outstanding" marks in his O.W.L.'s than Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon allowing any square footage to be added by magic to their perfectly normal home.
Would Sirius stay in his room? It had been Dudley's second bedroom, so more of a storage area for the things he didn't want anymore than a real bedroom. Had Harry remained at Privet Drive, he might have sorted through some of the items to see what was worth salvaging, but as he spent most of the year at Hogwarts, it never seemed important enough to do. Perhaps, the Dursleys would let him have a sleeping bag, so Sirius could use his bed. If his godfather would consent to that. More than likely, Sirius would end up sleeping on the floor. This thought made Harry uncomfortable, but he imagined that Sirius had been through far worse, both in Azkaban, and during his year on the run.
Finally, they reached Privet Drive, and Uncle Vernon pulled the car into the driveway.
"Out!" he barked, and the rest of the Dursleys rushed to obey.
Dudley removed Harry's trunk from the back of the car before following the others inside.
Once they were in the entryway, Vernon crossed his arms, looking like he wouldn't mind if Sirius Black (and Harry, too) disappeared on the spot. Aunt Petunia spoke up quickly, almost breathlessly.
"Follow me," she told them, "and bring that trunk."
"I'll get it," Sirius offered, grabbing it before Harry could object. Straining only a little, he carried it upstairs, and Harry quickly followed.
"Harry, as you know, has been staying in Dudley's old bedroom," Petunia continued, pointing out an open door. "Which is where he'll continue to stay. Sirius, you will stay in the guest room."
Harry raised his eyebrows, which got him a questioning look from Sirius.
"It's that way," Petunia added, moving along the hallway before opening the door to a larger room. "I trust you will be most comfortable."
Sirius peered inside, then nodded. "Thanks, Petunia. That will be fine."
She sniffed, nodded briefly, and then headed downstairs.
"All right, Harry?" Sirius asked once she was out of earshot.
Harry nodded. "I'm kind of surprised that she gave you the guest room," he admitted. "Not that it gets much use, but, well..."
Sirius chuckled, taking a seat on one of the chairs. "She must have thought I'd report back to Dumbledore if she made either of us sleep on the floor."
"Yeah, probably," Harry agreed, with a grin of his own, sitting down next to Sirius.
"Anyway," Sirius continued, "I don't expect that we'll be spending too much time in this house."
"Just two weeks," Harry remembered. "Then, back to your place."
"My family's place," Sirius corrected, gently.
"Sorry," Harry apologized.
Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'd much rather we stayed at my house. It's smaller than this one, but roomy enough for two. Unfortunately, with the protections at Grimmauld Place..."
"I know. Really, it's a lot better than here," Harry answered, sincerely.
"Well, I'm hoping that we won't have to spend all day inside this house. You didn't, before, did you? For the enchantments to work?" Sirius asked.
"I stayed outside whenever I could," Harry admitted. "Even last year, when it was hotter than ever. Of course," he added, frowning a little, "is it safe? Especially since everyone knows that Voldemort is back?"
As much as he would like to go on outings with his godfather, or even just get out of the house, he wondered how safe that would be. Hadn't the dementors attacked not far from Privet Drive last year? Sure, they'd been sent by Umbridge, but if they were out of the control of the ministry now, it could be even more dangerous than before.
Sirius frowned, and Harry wondered if he'd angered his godfather. Or, perhaps, disappointed him.
Hadn't he told Harry that he wasn't as much like his father as he'd thought?
Not that his father was some kind of a saint-Harry's glimpse into Snape's memory told him that his father could be, as his mum had put it, a toe rag-but Harry still wanted to look up to him.
"You may be right," Sirius conceded. "Tell you what. I'll send Dumbledore an owl and ask him what he thinks."
Harry nodded. Dumbledore had only recently started speaking to him again-started looking at him again-and while Harry knew the reasoning for the headmaster's distant attitude towards him all year, it still stung.
"It's my luck that this would happen the one year I don't have any homework to do," Harry remarked, only half jokingly.
Sirius frowned again, but Harry could tell it was a look of confusion. "How's that?" he asked.
"Well, I don't know what classes I can take until I get my O.W.L.'s, and Professor McGonagall said that we won't know how we did until sometime in July," Harry explained. "I reckon the professors wouldn't bother assigning loads of essays only for half the students to find out that they didn't score high enough to continue studying the subject."
"Or for the other half of the students not to do the work, because they thought they hadn't scored high enough to continue studying the subject," Sirius added, sagely. "They might know this from experience."
Harry grinned. "You had homework during the summer before your sixth year?"
"Sure, but I didn't do most of it until a few days before classes started." Sirius grinned. "Barely slept at all those last few days of holidays."
"How many did you get? O.W.L.'s, I mean?" Harry asked, sure that it would be more than what he could hope for.
"Nine, same as your father. Moony got ten, because he sat the Muggle Studies exam, and Wormtail scraped through with...five, I think. Or, maybe, just four. How'd you think you did?" Sirius asked, rather gently.
Harry shrugged. "I know that Defense Against the Dark Arts went well. The examiner asked me to produce a Patronus for a bonus point, which was easy."
"What'd you think of as your happy memory?" Sirius asked, grinning.
"Umbridge being sacked," Harry admitted, with a grin of his own.
Sirius gave him a playful nudge. "Ah, you should have imagined her surrounded by fifty dementors. That really would have produced a good one!"
Harry shrugged, snickering. "Well, they were impressed."
"Of course they were. From what I recall, producing any kind of patronus is maybe N.E.W.T. level, if they haven't changed the standards. The fact that you could manage it in your third year was pretty remarkable," Sirius praised, placing an arm around Harry's shoulder.
"I taught them in the D.A., but, y'know, without the real thing. A lot of the members managed corporeal ones, and pretty much everyone got at least something," Harry recalled.
"That's because you're a good teacher."
Harry shrugged again, face reddening. "Anyway, except for Astronomy and History of Magic, I think the rest went okay. Except, I know I didn't get an Outstanding in Potions, so I can't become an auror," he admitted.
It was the first time he'd voiced this sentiment to anyone.
"What's not getting an Outstanding in Potions got to do with becoming an auror?" Sirius asked, his tone gentle.
"When I had my career advice session with McGonagall, she told me that I would need to take Potions if I wanted to become one. She also said that Snape never lets anyone into his class who doesn't score an Outstanding on their O.W.L.," Harry explained. Plunging on ahead, he added, "It's not a big deal. I don't think I could handle two more years with Snape, especially..."
"Harry." Sirius stood up, and pulled him into a hug. Rather surprised, Harry squeezed back. After they let go, Sirius continued. "First of all, I'm sure that there have been aurors who didn't study Potions past their O.W.L. level. I can ask Tonks, if you want. Second, even if you didn't receive the Snivellus required mark, there have to be ways around it." Seeing Harry's face pale, he added, quickly, "All right, I won't call him that."
"He still hates me, you know," Harry admitted. "Not that I...when I saw the memory, I felt bad for him. Since then, he's kept on being a prat towards me."
Sirius exhaled. "Looking back, we were probably worse to him than he was to us. I don't specifically recall that incident more than any others, but I remember that, most of the time, it was him versus us, and he managed to hex us pretty well. Even made up some spells that sent us to the hospital wing on occasion. The thing is," Sirius continued, putting an arm around Harry's shoulder, "he's had over twenty years to get past this. Even if he can't, well, he shouldn't treat you like dirt, just because you look like your dad."
"Not just me," Harry allowed. "He's awful to Neville Longbottom. When Professor Lupin had us fight the bogarts, he asked Neville to start us out. Asked what his greatest fear was-and Neville said it was Snape."
Sirius just shook his head. "And, while I'm sure you and Ron and Hermione might have caused him a small amount of trouble-"
"Really small," Harry interrupted, with a grin. "Practically minuscule, really."
Sirius chuckled. "Right. While you caused a practically infinitesimal amount of trouble to Snape, he bullied Neville just because he was there, and a Gryffindor."
Harry laughed. "You think he's not the best professor at Hogwarts, then?"
Sirius tousled his hair, and pulled him close. "Not by a long shot."
They spent the next several days trying to enjoy themselves in the Dursley household, counting down until the two week mark, when they could return to Grimmauld Place. While neither was particularly looking forward to being at Sirius' old childhood home, it did beat having to tiptoe around three people who simultaneously hated and feared you.
Sirius, having exchanged the contents of a full Gringotts money bag for muggle money, spent a lot of it on what he called "muggle entertainment". He hadn't been a total stranger to the muggle world before; after all, his childhood bedroom contained muggle posters of scantily clad teenagers, and he'd purchased a motorbike (well, a flying one) in his early adulthood. He'd also been to the movies in the past, which was something that the wizarding world sorely lacked. There were also a lot more places devoted to entertainment in the muggle world than in the wizarding world, but he supposed that, without magic, muggles needed to find a lot of ways around their handicap.
One of the first orders of business, as Sirius put it, was to purchase clothes for Harry that fit.
"What's wrong with the ones I have?" he'd asked.
The only new clothes he'd ever had in his life were his Hogwarts robes. He usually wore his hand me downs from Dudley, and by now, they more or less fit him. Not because he was the size of his cousin, but he rather suspected that the house elves who did the laundry at Hogwarts had figured out how to fix them so that they more or less fit Harry.
"They belonged to your cousin, and I have more than enough gold to buy my godson a wardrobe of muggle clothes that actually fit," Sirius insisted. "Come on, it will be fun. We can go to the mall, and after getting you some clothes, we can explore the fun parts. Maybe see a movie or something. Not to mention, eat some of that delicious muggle junk food you've never had growing up."
Sirius, Harry had learned within the first day or so, was hardly strict as a guardian, but when he had his mind set on something, it rarely changed. Besides, secretly, Harry would like to own recreational clothes that hadn't belonged to his killer whale of a cousin.
So, rather early on the fourth day after they'd arrived at Privet Drive, Sirius announced to the Dursleys that he and Harry were going to spend at least part of the day at the mall, shopping for new clothes.
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't look entirely pleased about this, but Harry noted that they also didn't look entirely displeased, either.
Sirius suspected that they didn't mind if Harry looked like a normal teenager, as long as they weren't footing the bill. As for him, well, he'd bought plenty of muggle clothes after Hogwarts and taken some of them with him to Privet Drive, but he might find a few new items that interested him.
"Just be back before dark," Vernon practically snapped. "You heard what that-that man said."
"That man" was, of course, Dumbledore.
"Right," Sirius agreed, a little more coldly than necessary, placing a hand on Harry's shoulders.
Harry briefly wondered how they would get to the mall, since there was no way Uncle Vernon would allow them to borrow his car, until he remembered about cabs. Unlike Ron, Sirius could use a muggle telephone without any problems, and twenty minutes later, they were on their way.
"There's all sorts of fun things that we can do before we head to my house," Sirius remarked, all too aware of the muggle driver listening in. "I remember your dad and I going to arcades, the movies, all sorts of fun stuff."
Harry nodded with interest. It was true that he'd never had been to the movies or the arcade growing up, as he'd reluctantly told Sirius after they arrived at the mall. When Dudley turned eleven, they'd taken him with them to the zoo, but only because his then babysitter had broken her leg and no one else was able to take him.
"At eleven? You're too old for a babysitter!" Sirius had sputtered. "What did they think you were going to do, write all over the walls?"
"I was ten," Harry reminded me. "And, well, yeah. I suggested that the Dursleys let me stay at home, figuring I could watch TV and maybe play on Dudley's computer, but they thought that I would blow the house up when they were away."
Sirius smirked. "Even if you'd wanted to, and I know you didn't, it probably wouldn't have been possible, with the blood protection."
"Yeah, well, I didn't even know that I was a wizard, then," Harry recalled, shrugging his shoulders. "The zoo was pretty cool, though, until I accidentally set a giant snake on Dudley..."
Another smirk. "This, I've got to hear."
"Clothes first," Harry replied, a little cheekily.
"Oh, all right," Sirius relented, tousling Harry's hair again.
To Harry's relief, shopping for clothes didn't take too long, since it was just a matter of trying a few items on to determine his size, and then picking out several of each of those items. Sirius did purchase a leather jacket, which certainly looked cool on him, but he couldn't persuade Harry to let him buy him one.
"It's not me, Sirius," he determined, taking off the garment. "Sorry," he added, as an afterthought.
"Well, I'm just glad that you have some clothes that don't belong to that pig of a cousin of yours," Sirius said, taking up the items to pay for them.
So was Harry, and he thanked Sirius several times for this. His godfather looked rather pleased.
Over a snack of soft pretzels and lemonade, Harry told Sirius the story of Dudley and the snake. Sirius' eyes went big when he heard the story, and then, he nearly fell out of his chair laughing as Harry described the glass disappearing, the snake escaping, and then the glass reappearing around his cousin.
"Serves him right!" he chortled.
"Yeah, well," added Harry without thinking, "I got sent to my cupboard for over a month as punishment."
The grin disappeared abruptly from Sirius' face. "Your...cupboard?"
Immediately realizing his mistake, Harry shrugged, trying to cover it up. "It's no big deal, Sirius. Really."
"Harry." Sirius reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please. I'm your godfather, and your guardian, now. I need to know what they've done to you. Unless," he added, suddenly, "it's too painful?"
Harry shook his head. "Um, until about a week or so before I found out from Hagrid that I was a wizard, my bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs. You know? The one that Aunt Petunia now keeps her mop and broom and stuff?"
Sirius, who had seen it when Harry's aunt had retrieved these items for cleaning, nodded slowly. "They had you sleep there? For ten years?"
"Er-yeah." Harry took a sip of lemonade, just to have something to do. "And they sent me there when I got in trouble, usually for something that I didn't know how I'd done...like, once, I accidentally landed on the roof at my school when Dudley and his gang were chasing me, so the school sent a note home. The Dursleys were furious."
Sirius heaved an enormous sigh. "Most parents, or sane adults, would have been more concerned that their child was uninjured."
Harry shrugged. "Anyway, they'd lock me in for punishment, mostly, and then I got Dudley's second bedroom after the first letter from Hogwarts specified in the address that I slept in a cupboard."
Sirius just shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Harry."
Harry forced a smile. "Once I found out that I was a wizard-" he said the word quietly, even though the likelihood of people passing buy hearing and paying much attention was low "-I couldn't believe it. I always stayed at Hogwarts during the Christmas and Easter holidays, so I only had to see the Dursleys during the summer holidays. Which ended up being less than two months each time."
"Still too long to spend with those slime balls," Sirius grimaced.
"You're here, now, and after we go back next year, I won't ever have to see them again," Harry pointed out.
Sirius nodded, wordlessly, extremely grateful for that.
Also, making a mental note to have a few words with Dumbledore about what he could have possibly been thinking. Sirius knew how important the blood wards were, but the idea of his godson, of the son of Lily and James Potter, growing up in a downstairs closet couldn't have been the best solution for any child, much less the Boy Who Lived.
The presence of ghosts at Hogwarts, and other places in the wizarding world, was proof for him that there was an afterlife. He was sure that Lily and James were in a better place, hopefully able to watch over their son. He hoped that they didn't feel sadness at what he'd suffered since their death.
After several minutes of silence, during which the food and drink had completely disappeared, Sirius stood up, forcing a grin on his face.
"Come on," he said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let's try out that arcade we saw a few floors down."
Face brightening, Harry cheerfully followed his godfather in that direction.