Chapter Text
Sirius sends a letter off to Miriam, asking her to intervene for them, and then he tries to forget about it. Louise helps them create even stronger wards at both the flat and the farmhouse, and Harry settles back down into school.
Remus starts to explore other opportunities now that they’re safe, and appear to be staying in France for the foreseeable future. A chance conversation with the bookshop owner reveals that Remus has done some procurement in the past, and the owner offers Remus a part-time job.
The job involves travel, but it’s flexible enough that Remus can work around the full moons, before Sirius knows it, it’s coming up on Christmas.
“I think we should spend Christmas at the farmhouse,” Sirius says one night early in December.
“I agree,” Remus replies. “I’ve already asked for the time off.”
“Denis says they’ll spend Christmas with Louise, so Lionel will be there as well,” Sirius says.
Remus snorts. “When did you see Denis?”
“I went to pick Harry up, and he offered a glass of wine,” Sirius replies. Harry had been invited for dinner at Lionel’s house, and Sirius had gone for a solo dinner at a nearby cafe. Remus had been traveling, and Sirius had been grateful for the company.
Diana had been working late, and Denis is warm and engaging, and they talked about their kids and families. Sirius had found it rather novel to speak with another father, another family man, other than Remus.
“I’m glad you’ve made a friend,” Remus replies. “Sometimes, I worry about you.”
“Why?” Sirius asks.
“Because you don’t have anything other than me and Harry,” Remus replies. “And we both have other things and people in our lives.”
“What, you think I should have a job?” Sirius jokes.
Remus hesitates. “You never have before, but I also think you need something other than Harry in your life.”
Sirius thinks about that for a moment. “I just want to focus on Harry, Moony. There were so many years that I missed out on, and so much I should have been a part of. I don’t want to have any distractions, other than you.”
“Am I distraction?” Remus asks coyly.
“A little bit,” Sirius replies with a smile, and kisses him lightly. “But I don’t need anything or anyone else, not right now.”
“What happens when you do?”
“Then I’ll find a job, or a hobby,” Sirius replies. “But I also want to wait until Harry’s at school. I’ll need a distraction then.”
“Fair enough,” Remus says. “I understand why Harry needs to be your primary focus right now.”
“Thank you for understanding,” Sirius replies, and then turns back to the subject of Christmas. “We’ll need a tree and decorations.”
“We’ll get them,” Remus promises. “I have to leave for another buying trip the day after tomorrow, but as soon as I get home, we’ll go shopping. What are you thinking about getting Harry for Christmas?”
“I was thinking a better broom and full Quidditch kit,” Sirius admits. “He’s doing well with that, and there’s a summer league.”
“That seems like a good plan,” Remus replies.
“And you?” Sirius asks.
Remus smirks. “I just wanted to be sure that we weren’t going to double up.”
“Meaning that you already got his gift, and you aren’t going to tell me what it is,” Sirius replies dryly.
“I may have found something on my last trip,” Remus admits. “But I’ll let it be a surprise.”
Sirius kisses him fondly, glad to see Remus so happy. “Keep your secrets.”
’Tis the season for these small secrets, after all.
~~~~~
Sirius keeps expecting Harry’s excitement for Christmas to spill over, but he seems oblivious to the upcoming holiday in spite of the roasted chestnuts, the lights, and the garlands.
“Did you want to go shopping for Christmas presents?” Sirius asks. “Your uncle Moony and I are planning to go this weekend.”
Harry frowns. “Christmas presents?”
“Sure, if there’s something you want to get for Moony, or your friends, maybe you’d like to go,” Sirius says.
Harry is on his knees at the kitchen table working on his maths homework. He’s changed out of his school uniform and is wearing a green cable-knit sweater and jeans. Tibere is sitting on the table next to him, keeping an eye on Harry.
“I’ve never bought Christmas gifts for anybody,” Harry replies, looking a little troubled. “What if I get a bad gift?”
“It’s the thought that counts, Harry, but I doubt you would get anybody a bad gift,” Sirius replies. “When you know someone, you just think about what you would like to receive if you were them.”
“I guess we can go shopping,” Harry says, although he still sounds dubious.
Sirius knows Harry well enough by now to know that Harry doesn’t quite know what to do with birthdays and holidays. Eventually, he hopes Harry will get comfortable with such celebrations, but this is their first Christmas together.
“I think we’re going over to Louise’s for Christmas dinner, since her family is going to be there,” Sirius adds. “We’ve been invited, anyway, which is good, because I don’t think I’m up to making the full spread yet.”
Harry smiles. “I think you’d do a good job.”
“I appreciate your faith in me,” Sirius replies and ruffles Harry’s hair affectionately. “Still, Therese will be home, and I think Ines will be there as well.”
Harry perks up at that. “I haven’t seen Ines since the summer.”
“She’s been working in Geneva for Gringotts as a curse-breaker,” Sirius reminds him.
Harry shrugs. “I know that, but I liked Ines.”
Sirius suspects that Harry has a bit of a crush on Ines, and it’s adorable. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, too, pup. How’s that homework coming?”
“Almost done with maths, but I still have reading,” Harry says. “But I like saving reading for last.”
“What are you reading now?” Sirius asks.
“We’re reading about the French revolution right now,” Harry replies, launching into a description of the book they’re currently reading.
Evenings like these are what Sirius holds most dear. Quiet nights where they aren’t doing anything special, but are simply going through their usual routine.
Out of the blue, Harry says, “Lionel mentioned a game he wanted. Do you think that would be a good gift?”
“That’s exactly the kind of gift I was talking about earlier,” Sirius confirms.
“What do you think Uncle Moony would like?” Harry asks.
Sirius has been struggling to come with an answer to that himself. “I don’t know, Pronglet. I think we’ll both have to look around this weekend, because I don’t know what I’m going to get him either.”
“Maybe something for traveling?” Harry muses. “He’s been doing that more lately.”
“I think Moony likes having a job again,” Sirius replies. “You’re okay with it?”
Harry nods. “But I’m glad you aren’t traveling.”
“I don’t want to miss out on spending any time with you,” Sirius replies simply. “You won’t be rid of me that easily.”
Harry flushes with pleasure. “I don’t want to get rid of you at all.”
“Good,” Sirius replies.
Sirius makes beans on toast for dinner, and Harry helps clean up, and then Harry begins to get ready for bed without being prompted.
Sirius makes hot chocolate for Harry, and pours a glass of red wine for himself, and then they settle in his study for a quiet hour of reading with Harry in his pajamas. Tibere settles across Harry’s legs where he’s stretched out in the window seat, and Nigel sits in Harry’s lap as a patient prop for his book.
A tapping at the window disturbs the peace, and Harry looks a little alarmed. “I’ll get it,” Sirius says. “It sounds like someone sent an owl.”
He recognizes the owl as belonging to Miriam, and Sirius opens the window. “Come on in. Do you need a reply?”
The owl shakes out his feathers and holds out his leg with the letter attached. And then he immediately takes off again, and that answers Sirius’ question.
“What is it, Padfoot?” Harry calls.
“A letter from Miriam, pup,” Sirius calls back. “Don’t worry about it.”
He reads the letter quickly, and then a little more slowly.
Dear Sirius,
I hope this letter finds you and Harry well. As you requested, I did contact Albus Dumbledore with the information you gave me about the wards around Harry’s relatives’ house. So far, I haven’t heard anything back, but perhaps no news is good news at this point. I’m sorry I don’t have anything more for you, but I hope you all have a happy Christmas.
Best,
Miriam
“Is everything okay?” Harry asks.
Sirius nods. “Nothing has changed, Pronglet.”
“That’s what she wanted to tell us?” Harry asks.
Sirius shrugs. “I asked her to contact Albus Dumbledore to see if he would help us be able to go back to England, and she wanted to let me know that she had done so, but Dumbledore hasn’t replied.”
“Do we really want to go back to England?” Harry asks dubiously. “I like it here.”
Sirius smiles. “So do I. And I don’t know that we do want to go back, but wouldn’t you like to have the option?”
“I guess,” Harry replies, appearing troubled.
“But?” Sirius prompts.
“Sometimes it’s easier if you don’t have a choice,” Harry muses.
Sirius thinks he understands. “You have a say in where we live, too, Harry. If you decide you want to live in France, we’ll stay here.”
Harry smiles briefly. “Thanks.”
Sirius is beginning to think that they won’t be leaving France any time soon, and he wonders what Dumbledore will make of that.
~~~~~
By the end of the weekend, Harry seems to be a little more excited for Christmas. He and Remus take Harry out shopping, and split up at various times to allow each of them to make separate, secret purchases.
Sirius makes sure that Harry has his own money so he can make his own purchases, and as Harry picks out gifts for his friends and Remus—and himself, Sirius knows, but pretends he doesn’t—he starts bouncing.
It’s a chilly day, and Harry’s cheeks are flushed with the cold and excitement. Sirius buys a paper cone of roasted chestnuts, which Harry devours. There are crepes and hot chocolate, and it’s a day of overindulgence, but Harry deserves it.
Harry has a predictable sugar crash that evening, whining a bit as Sirius chivvies him into eating some cheese on toast just to give him something substantial.
“Come on, Harry,” Sirius says quietly. “You need to eat something, and then you can go to bed. We had a good day today.”
Harry subsides, pausing for a moment, and then he offers a tired grin. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine, pup,” Sirius tells him with an affectionate ruffle of his hair. “But there’s no sense getting upset when you’re just tired.”
Harry’s grin is sheepish. “Yeah.”
“Are you okay?” Sirius asks.
Harry nods. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”
“Good choice,” Sirius replies.
Remus slaps him on the back. “That was well handled.”
Sirius sighs. “Thanks.”
“We had a good day,” Remus says. “There was no need to spoil it.”
“He’s a good boy,” Sirius reflects. “But he’s still a child, and I knew the sugar crash was coming.”
“When did you want to leave for the farmhouse?” Remus asks.
Sirius thinks about it. “The day after tomorrow should be fine. That will give us time to decorate.”
“Where are we getting the tree?” Remus asks.
Sirius shrugs. “I thought we could go tomorrow, then shrink it. If we put a stasis charm on it, the effect won’t be too drastic.”
Shrinking something like a Christmas tree will cause it to become brittle much faster, but if they immediately put a stasis charm on it, it will appear fresh indefinitely. Or at least through the holiday.
“Are there decorations?” Remus asks.
“There should be some in the attic,” Sirius replies. “If not, we can probably come up with something. We both took top marks in transfiguration, after all.”
Remus snorts. “I should hope so. How is Harry doing with his potions book?”
“He’s finished it, and has indicated renewed interest in that, cooking, and household charms,” Sirius replies dryly. “Because his life would have been much easier had he been able to use magic to clean.”
Remus chuckles. “So, we may have a budding potions master, or possibly a chef, or maybe Harry will make someone a fine house-husband.”
“As long as he’s happy,” Sirius replies. “And it’s not as though he doesn’t have a good example right here at home.”
Remus kisses him lightly. “You make an excellent house-husband, it’s true.”
“It doesn’t hurt that I’m independently wealthy,” Sirius admits.
“No, it certainly doesn’t,” Remus replies. “Although it’s certainly not your best quality.”
“That’s good to know,” Sirius teases. “I would like to think I have a few other redeeming qualities.”
Remus smirks at him. “Maybe just a few.”
And then Sirius casts a silencing charm and proceeds to show Remus just how many stellar qualities he has.
~~~~~
Harry is incredibly excited the next day when they go to pick out a Christmas tree. He’s at least pragmatic enough not to insist on the biggest tree, more intent on finding the one with the best overall shape. He takes his job very seriously, giving every tree very deliberate consideration that’s pretty adorable.
He finally makes his decision, a very nicely shaped tree that’s about six feet tall, that will fit nicely in their living room at the farmhouse.
“Good job, pup,” Sirius says. “I think it will be perfect.”
Harry beams. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” Sirius says, putting an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I can’t wait to see it at home.”
“Me, too!” Harry says enthusiastically. “Do we have enough decorations?”
“I don’t know, but I think we can create some if we need to do so.” Sirius pulls him in for a tight hug. “Just you wait. This will be the best Christmas yet.”
Harry snorts. “That’s a very low bar.”
Sirius keeps seeing signs of the sassy teenager that he knows Harry will be come, with a sense of sarcasm that reminds him of Lily. Lily had an ability to skewer people with words as well.
That dry observation makes Sirius laugh. “Yeah, for me too, Harry. Let’s just be grateful that it’s going to be a good holiday for both of us.”
Harry hugs him back, and Sirius is grateful for small favors.
The trip to the farmhouse is routine by now, and they pack up Tibere and Nigel, and the little luggage they need, and they take a portkey. The very first thing Sirius does is take the tree out of his pocket to resize it, immediately putting a stasis charm on it to keep the needles from dropping off.
“How’s that?” Sirius asks, holding it in place with magic.
“We’ll need a tree stand,” Remus says.
Sirius smirks. “Oh, ye of little faith.” He casts a sticking charm. “That should take care of it.”
The tree starts tipping over a few seconds later, and Remus is the one close enough to catch it. “You were saying?”
“I think I’ll go find that tree stand,” Sirius says, and runs up the stairs.
“Please remember this next time when I tell you we need a tree stand!” Remus calls after him, but Sirius can hear Harry’s laughter.
He’s grateful that the Christmas decorations are in a clearly marked box, or boxes, and that includes the stand. He floats the box with the stand downstairs, and then grabs the second one.
Remus is wrestling the tree into the stand with Harry’s help, and he complains, “You could have grabbed the tree stand first.”
Sirius grins. “I could have, but then I would have missed the hilarious sight of you grabbing for the tree.”
“Hilarious, huh?” Remus asks, although there’s a smile pulling at his lips.
“So funny,” Harry agrees with a smirk. “But it was really unnecessary.”
“You are a traitor,” Sirius accuses him.
“I said it was funny!” Harry protests.
“You said it was unnecessary!” Sirius replies.
Harry glares at him. “I feel that was obvious from the situation.”
And Sirius just starts laughing, and Remus does as well, so much so that the tree starts listing, and Harry has to hold it up. “Seriously? You two are losing it now?”
But they’re laughing too hard to helps and Harry rolls his eyes, and the tree abruptly straightens.
“There,” Harry says. “I fixed it for you.”
“You are absolutely brilliant,” Sirius says, getting his voice back quickly. “Well done on the use of magic, Pronglet.”
“Could you hurry it up?” Harry asks. “I can’t hold it forever.”
That suggests real control—wandless control—and Sirius probably shouldn’t start teaching him wandless control now, but he can’t see why not.
“Hold that thought, Harry,” Sirius says. “Can you feel what it’s like to hold the tree in place?”
Harry nods. “Sure. That’s how I’m holding it up.” He says it as though the question is stupid.
Sirius chuckles breathlessly. “You’re incredible, pup. We’re going to start working on wandless spells, because you have a knack for them.”
“I thought you needed a wand to do magic,” Harry says.
“Most people do,” Remus replies. “But your parents were both very talented, and it’s no surprise that you take after them.”
Harry beams. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” Remus replies. “Thank you for your help.”
They get the tree in place, and then they began pulling out the decorations, many of them terribly dated, but they make Harry giggle. There are weird porcelain figures that are apparently supposed to go on the tree, in the shape of shepherds and shepherdesses.
“Why?” Harry asks between giggles.
“I have no idea, but let’s put them back in the box,” Sirius replies. “I’d hate to see them get broken.”
“Also, they’d probably give me nightmares,” Harry comments.
Sirius laughs at his dry tone, and notes that Harry really is mastering the art of sarcasm.
He’s so very proud.
They put lights on the tree, and ribbons, and some glass ornaments that aren’t too horrific. The branches aren’t crowded, but it looks nice overall, and Harry pronounces himself satisfied as well. “This looks way better than and of the trees the Dursleys put up.”
“I think it looks good, too,” Remus agrees, patting Harry on the shoulder. “Good job, Harry.”
Harry preens a bit, and it’s good to see him with a bit of confidence. He’ll never have James’ swagger, but that’s probably a good thing.
“You should get to bed, Pronglet,” Sirius says. “It’s late.”
Harry sighs, but doesn’t argue. “Can we try wandless magic tomorrow?”
“We certainly can,” Sirius promises. “But you’ll need your rest for that.”
Harry practically skips up the stairs with that promise, and Remus gives Sirius a look. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“I think it certainly won’t hurt him to be able to do a few wandless spells for his own protection,” Sirius says. “It’s managed to get me out of a couple of tough spots in the past.”
Remus shrugs. “You make an excellent point.”
“And now I think I’m for bed as well,” Sirius says. “What about you?”
“Right behind you,” Remus replies. “I still have wrapping to do.”
Sirius kisses him lightly. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”
“’Tis the season,” Remus teases.
~~~~~
The next night is the full moon, so Remus locks himself in one of the bedrooms. Sirius offers to transform and spend the night with him as Padfoot, but Remus gently insists that Sirius be available in case Harry has another nightmare.
“I can hear him from in there,” Sirius protests.
“I’m sure you can,” Remus replies. “But I would feel better if I knew you were available to Harry.”
Sirius has to give up at that. Once Remus makes up his mind about something, he’s not going to budge.
Still, it’s good to see Remus the following morning looking a bit tired and peaky, but not nearly as trashed as he used to look before the Wolfsbane.
Sirius makes scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast, and Remus manages to eat something along with his tea. Harry is a little subdued, sensing that Remus is under the weather, but he can also barely contain his enthusiasm, both for the holiday, and for learning magic.
“Don’t mind me,” Remus says. “I think I might get some reading done if you don’t mind.”
“Are you feeling okay, Uncle Moony?” Harry inquires.
“Just a little tired this morning,” Remus assures him. “Padfoot’s medicine helps me quite a bit.”
Harry grins. “He was really smart to come up with that.”
“He was, indeed,” Remus agrees, with a fond look for Sirius. “Good luck, Harry.”
Sirius takes Harry into one of the upstairs bedrooms that’s not in use. “Okay, pup. There’s no shame if you don’t get it right away, or even if you don’t get it at all. Most wizards and witches don’t even attempt wandless magic, and they certainly don’t attempt it at your age.”
Harry frowns. “Then why are we doing it?”
“Because knowing how to do wandless magic can save your life,” Sirius replies. “What if you lose your wand, or you get stuck somewhere without it?”
Harry nods, a serious expression on his face. “What kind of spells can you do without a wand?”
“That depends entirely on the wizard,” Sirius replies. “In theory, a wizard could do just about any spell without a wand.”
“But most of them don’t try,” Harry adds.
“But most don’t try,” Sirius agrees. “But most wizards weren’t in a war, like I was.”
Harry frowns. “Like my parents.”
“Like your parents, too,” Sirius says.
Harry considers that for a long moment. “Like I’m going to be?”
Sirius never wants to lie to Harry. “I never want you to be involved in a war, Pronglet, but that may not be up to me, or to you. When there is evil in the world, or people who would harm others, it’s our responsibility to stand up to that. Sometimes, that means fighting.”
Harry nods. “Then I should always be prepared just in case.”
Sirius sighs. “Unfortunately, that does seem to be prudent, although I wish that wasn’t so. Now, let’s start with what might be the most effective spell for when you’re in a tight spot. That’s expelliarmus.”
“What does that do?” Harry asks.
“It disarms your opponent,” Sirius replies. “Which is very handy when they have a wand and you don’t.”
Harry brightens. “Especially since they won’t know wandless magic.”
“There’s a really good chance of that, but never count on your opponent not knowing something in order to win,” Sirius warns him. “If you ever duel someone, you must keep that in mind.”
Harry nods seriously. “Do people just duel in war?”
“No, they duel for fun, too,” Sirius says. “Just like playing Quidditch, or broom racing.”
Harry cocks his head. “Like karate?”
“I don’t know what that is,” Sirius admits.
“It’s a Muggle sport for fighting,” Harry explains. “Where you use your hands and feet to defend yourself. Dudley used to pretend he could do it.”
“I’m guessing that wasn’t terribly pleasant for you,” Sirius replies.
Harry shrugs. “I could run faster than him and his friends.”
“Sometimes, running is the best thing you can do for yourself,” Sirius agrees. “Okay, now say the word after me. Expelliarmus.”
Harry repeats it, mispronouncing it at first.
Sirius repeats it again, and Harry gets it right that time. “Good, pup. Very good. Now, remember what it felt like to hold the tree up last night, and channel that into the word. You want to send the wand flying.”
“It won’t hurt you, will it?” Harry asks.
“Not a bit,” Sirius promises, privately doubting that Harry will have much success.
Harry frowns. “Expelliarmus!”
Nothing happens, and he frowns, clearly disappointed.
“That’s okay, Harry,” Sirius says soothingly. “Remember what I said. This isn’t easy for experienced wizards.”
Harry pouts. “But it was so easy to hold the tree up last night!”
“Why was it easy?” Sirius asks, hoping to help Harry identify the difference in what happened last night, and what he’s missing right now.
Harry’s gaze seems to turn inward, and then he says, “I really wanted for the tree not to fall, because I didn’t want to see anybody get hurt.”
Sirius isn’t surprised at Harry’s strong protective instincts, but beyond pointing his wand at Harry and threatening him, he’s not sure how to trigger them to goad Harry into using wandless magic.
“What if someone was threatening me?” Sirius asks.
Harry looks horrified. “I don’t want you to get hurt!”
“But if someone was threatening me, you could probably do it,” Sirius says. “Just a second.”
He goes to find Remus in the study. “I need you to curse me.”
Remus is stretched out on the sofa, reading a book, looking rumpled and sleepy. “Excuse me?”
“I need you to curse me, in front of Harry,” Sirius explains. “To help him.”
“While there was a time when I would have happily hexed the daylights out of you, I have no desire to do so right now.” Remus turns back to his book. “Find another way, Padfoot.”
“I just need Harry to feel what it’s like one time,” Sirius wheedles. “He’ll know how to do it then.”
“What are you trying to teach him?” Remus asks with a sigh.
“Expelliarmus.”
Remus pinches the bridge of his nose, as though he has a headache coming on. “Because it would serve him quite well if a full grown wizard came after him.”
“That’s the idea, yes, but I framed it as a game,” Sirius admits. “Although he knows there’s a chance that he might be in a war at some point.”
Remus sighs. “Is that really necessary?”
“He asked, and I refuse to lie to him,” Sirius replies. “Will you help?”
Remus glares at him. “No, but I’ll let you curse me.”
“I’m not going to curse you!” Sirius protests. “I don’t—“
“Okay, I get the point,” Sirius mutters after a long, pointed silence.
“But I can help you with an illusion,” Remus says. “It might be realistic enough.”
Sirius shrugs. “I guess that’s what we have to work with.”
Remus follows him upstairs, and Harry appears a little apprehensive. “I don’t want anybody to get hurt.”
“No one is going to hurt anybody, but we do have a solution,” Sirius says. “All right, Remus, let’s see it.”
“Put your wand down,” Remus replies, and then he casts what looks like a very real illusion of a menacing wizard pointing a wand at Sirius.
Harry glances at Sirius, who nods. “It’s okay, Harry.”
The wizard steps towards Sirius, and Harry shouts, “Expelliarmus!”
The illusory wand goes flying, and the illusion dissipates. Harry stares, open-mouthed, and then he turns to Sirius, his eyes bright with excitement. “I did it!”
“You definitely did,” Sirius replies, giving him a hug. “Good job, pup.”
“Can I try again?” Harry asks eagerly.
“One illusion only, sorry, Harry,” Remus apologizes.
Harry shakes his head. “No, I think I have the feel for it now. I can do it!”
Sirius picks up his wand. “Okay, let’s see it, Pronglet.”
“Expelliarmus!” Harry says, and Sirius’ wand goes flying.
Remus applauds. “Well done, Harry!”
James had been a whiz at defense, too, and Sirius knows that Harry will show the same knack eventually. He just hadn’t quite expected to Harry to show so much promise so early.
“You’re a natural, Harry, just like I thought,” Sirius replies. “We’ll work on it a little bit every day.”
“Can we do more today?” Harry asks.
Sirius hesitates, and looks to Remus. “Just a few more times. You shouldn’t push yourself too hard, Harry. You’re young, and you don’t want to burn out early. That’s one of the reasons that most wizards and witches don’t start school until age eleven.”
“But a lot of old wizarding families start training earlier,” Sirius points out. “It gives their kids an advantage when they do go to school.”
Remus nods. “Fair. Just keep the sessions short to minimize the risks.”
“All right, Harry, you heard your Uncle Moony,” Sirius says. “You only have a few tries, so let’s make them count.”
Harry gets it right three out of five times. He misses the second and third times, like he loses the knack, but the fourth and fifth tries are successful with increasing force.
“Good job,” Sirius says. “That’s enough for today, but that was very well done, Pronglet.”
Harry grins, and then abruptly yawns. “I’m really tired,” he says, sounding surprised.
Sirius laughs. “Your uncle Moony is right. Magic takes energy, and you have more resources when you’re older. We have to take this slow and careful.”
Harry grimaces. “I understand, I guess.”
“Why don’t you go lay down for a bit before lunch?” Sirius suggests. “You don’t have to sleep, but maybe read for a little bit.”
Harry agrees reluctantly, and trudges up to his room, and Sirius goes to join Remus in the study.
“I knew he was precocious, but we’re going to have a hard time keeping him challenged,” Remus comments. “And I hate to say it, but Harry is going to have a hard time staying challenged in school.”
It was different, Sirius knows, when Harry had grown up in the Muggle world and then gone to Hogwarts. The learning curve was steep, and no one really pushed Harry to succeed, or helped him to do so. Granted, Hermione had certainly cared, and prodded Harry to do better, but that had been a peer, not an adult.
This time, by the time Harry goes to school, he’ll know how to use a quill as well as a Muggle implement, and he’ll have a grounding in potions and wandless magic.
And Sirius isn’t sure that he can stomach Harry being taught by Snape, and seeing his delight snuffed out.
Sirius sighs. “I realize that. He’s bright, he picks things up quickly, and he’ll be very magically skilled. Unfortunately, that also means that I’m not sure Hogwarts will be the right setting for him, not unless we have certain guarantees from Dumbledore.”
“I think we both need to accept the idea that Hogwarts may not be feasible, and that he might be better served by learning at home,” Remus says. “You have the resources to do that.”
“I might, but Harry deserves to have relationships with his peers as much as he needs to excel, and I think it might just tell us which school is right for him based on how willing they are to work with us,” Sirius replies.
“Fair point,” Remus says. He shrugs. “Well, at least we have some time, right? We can start doing real research in a couple of years.”
“I suppose so,” Sirius replies, although he doesn’t know that they’ll have any more answers than they do now, but he doesn’t mind putting it off.
~~~~~
They spend Christmas Eve with Louise and her family. Therese has shot up a couple of inches, and is clearly blossoming into a mature young woman. She’s a bit standoffish with the boys, which disappoints both Lionel and Harry, but Ines is willing to get down on the floor with them to admire and play with their gifts.
Harry receives a brilliantly illustrated bestiary from Lionel and his family, and Harry had given Lionel a selection of sweets and the board game Harry had found at their favorite bookstore in Paris.
Ines and Sirius sit on the floor with the boys and the game, helping them with the rules, and starting to play.
“It’s a bit like Snakes and Ladders, isn’t it?” Harry asks.
“What’s that?” Lionel asks.
Harry shrugs. “A Muggle game, but this one is more fun.”
Louise has made a roast goose with all the trimmings, and there’s wine for the adults and fizzy lemonade for the kids. Sirius is grateful to be included, and for Harry to have the opportunity to see what a family is like. Or, what a different sort of family is like, much like the Potters had shown him a different way of seeing the world.
When they go home later that night, Harry is clearly tired but happy, and he says, “I didn’t know Christmas could be like this.”
“This is just the beginning, Pronglet,” Sirius promises. “I will always do my best to make sure the holidays are happy.”
He and Remus wait until Harry’s asleep to put the presents under the tree, and when that’s done, Sirius tucks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “It looks really good, doesn’t it?”
“This has been a really good Christmas,” Remus agrees. “The best I’ve had in long time.”
Sirius wraps an arm around Remus’ shoulders. “I’m glad to hear that, and even gladder to have you here.”
“I remember Harry’s first Christmas,” Remus murmurs. “He was so small.”
Harry hadn’t been quite five months old, and they had all been together, even Peter. Sirius remembers monopolizing Harry that day, marveling at how small he was, and delighting in every smile and giggle, transfixing Harry with small illusions and floating balls of light.
He’d really been too young to know what was going on, but that hadn’t stopped Sirius from buying too many toys. Sirius just wanted to spoil his godson.
This year is different, of course, but Sirius still wants to spoil Harry just a little bit. Harry deserves it.
“I didn’t go overboard, did I?” Sirius asks.
“No more than you usually do,” Remus teases. “But a little indulgence isn’t going to hurt him. He deserves to know that he’s loved, and that he’s important.”
Since that’s all Sirius wants, he’s grateful to hear those words.
“We should get to sleep,” Sirius says wryly. “I suspect that Harry will be up early.”
“Almost certainly,” Remus replies.
Sure enough, Harry is up with the sun, but he doesn’t come in to wake them. Instead, Sirius wakes up to the smell of bacon and coffee.
Remus stirs next to him. “Do I smell breakfast?”
“You do,” Sirius replies. “I think that’s Harry.”
“It had better be,” Remus says. “I would hate to think that someone broke in, even if it was just to make breakfast.”
Sirius chuckles and rolls out of bed, pulling on a robe over his pajamas and sliding his feet into slippers. “I’ve been woken up in worse ways.”
“So have I,” Remus replies, copying Sirius’ actions.
Sirius comes down the stairs and finds Harry in the kitchen, carefully turning the bacon while standing on a stool. “You didn’t have to make breakfast, pup.”
“I wanted to,” Harry says determinedly. “To thank you for everything.”
Sirius drops a kiss on the top of Harry’s head. “There are no thanks necessary, but I appreciate the gesture.”
He makes the toast, and when Remus comes down, he starts the kettle for tea. Harry doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get to the presents, maybe because he’s never had the chance to be excited for them in the past.
Once they’ve eaten, they move into the living room, and begin opening their gifts. Harry gets an atlas from Remus, with magical illustrations that move and allow him to interact with them. It’s a gorgeous book, and Harry is clearly excited by it. Sirius has given him a couple of new sweaters, a cookery book, and a basic potions set, as well as sweets. He’d decided to forgo the new broom until spring, when the junior Quidditch league started up.
Sirius and Harry had purchased a new coat for Remus, a heavy, smart wool peacoat that Remus clearly loves. Harry’s gift to Sirius is a leather-bound photo album. “I thought we could fill it with pictures together,” Harry says shyly.
“I would love that, Pronglet,” Sirius replies.
“And now for my gift,” Remus says, handing Sirius a box.
Sirius grins when he sees the camera, a wizarding one that prints its own pictures. “Let’s give it a try, shall we?”
Within a few minutes, Sirius has a trio of pictures, and sticks them in the album with a basic sticking charm. “This is lovely. Thank you both.”
Harry hugs Sirius around the neck. “Thank you! This was the best Christmas ever!”
“I’m glad you think so, Harry,” Sirius replies. “It’s been good for me, too.”
Harry spends the morning playing with his new toys, and then that afternoon, Lionel comes over with his new toys to play with Harry. It’s a bit too cold to fly, but the boys seem to have a good time playing board games and exploring Harry’s new atlas.
The following day, Boxing Day, Louise brings Lionel back over. The weather has warmed sufficiently to allow the two to go flying with instructions not to go too high.
“Let’s see what we can do about your wards, hm?” Louise says. “I believe we can strengthen them considerably.”
They work hard for the rest of the afternoon, and Louise demonstrates her expertise in building wards based on the oath Sirius took as Harry’s godfather. By the end, the wards are stronger than ever, and Sirius and Remus will be able to duplicate the protections at their flat in Paris as well.
“I think that should do it,” Louise says at the end of the afternoon. “I doubt that anyone with evil intent for Harry will be able to step foot on the property at this point. And if they do, they’re going to feel it.”
“We really can’t thank you enough, Louise,” Sirius replies.
Louise waves off his thanks. “I would do the same for any child. All children deserve safety, and Harry needs it more than most.”
“Still, your expertise has been invaluable,” Remus adds. “I didn’t realize how much ward expertise you had.”
Louise shrugs. “I’ve led an interesting life. Before I was married and settled down, I worked as a ward-maker and curse-breaker for Gringotts. Once I had children, that all changed, of course, and I decided to teach, but I learned some useful skills along the way.”
“I should say so,” Sirius replies. “Would that my own youth hadn’t been misspent.”
Louise sniffs. “Please, you’re still very young. Talk to me again when you’re fifty. Then, I might begin to think you wasted your time.”
But that reminds Sirius that he has some options once Harry goes back to school. He has no idea what he might do to occupy himself, but continuing to learn combat magics and practicing dueling seems wise.
“What are you thinking?” Remus asks later that night, after Harry’s gone to bed, and they’re sitting in the living room, finishing off the bottle of wine they’d opened. “You’ve been quiet ever since Louise left.”
“I was thinking what I might do to better take care of Harry,” Sirius admits. “Louise had some special skills and knowledge that helped, but what do I have?”
“You’re his parent, Padfoot,” Remus reminds him. “You’re doing a fine job with that.”
Sirius shrugs. “I’m thinking about joining a dueling club in Paris.”
Remus raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
“It seems like a good idea to keep my skills sharp,” Sirius replies. “I doubt that the Dementor attack will be the only threat we have to beat back.”
Remus runs a hand through his hair. “Do you expect to have to deal with Death Eaters again?”
“Well, it’s not as though they don’t know Harry’s general whereabouts now,” Sirius replies grimly. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about it for a few years, but based on the prophecy, Voldemort and his Death Eaters will return eventually.”
Remus is silent for a long moment. “Sometimes I think you’ve seen the future.”
“I have never practiced divination, you know that,” Sirius says lightly, and it’s as close to the truth as he can come. “But I know what the prophecy said, and it’s clear that the war has merely been paused. It’s not over, Moony.”
Remus sighs. “I hate that you’re probably right about that. I don’t want Harry to face the same kinds of battles we did.”
Privately, Sirius is afraid that Harry will face worse, in spite of his own best efforts, but he won’t give voice to those fears, not yet.
Remus wouldn’t understand, and Sirius is unable to explain.
“We’ll just have to do our best,” Sirius replies. “But I do need to get back into fighting trim again.”
“A dueling club will help with that,” Remus agrees. “Perhaps I’ll go with you.”
“And maybe we should start brushing up on our defense lessons again,” Sirius says. “Perhaps it won’t be needed in the long run, but I’d rather be safe than sorry in that respect.”
Remus gives him a look. “You aren’t blaming yourself for freezing at first with the Dementors, are you?”
“I should have been able to respond much more quickly,” Sirius replies. “I’m out of practice.”
Remus snorts. “No, you’re traumatized, and there’s a difference.”
Sirius is silent, because Remus is correct about that.
“And there’s no shame in that, Padfoot,” Remus adds softly. “If you’d received a trial—“
“I may have been worse off than I was,” Sirius says bitterly. “Do you think I would have received a fair trial at that time? Everyone was so ready to believe I was a traitor, and Peter did such a good job at framing me, I would have been convicted in a heartbeat, and then I never would have received a fair shake.”
Remus makes a distressed noise. “I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Sirius replies. “I’ve accepted my role in things as well. I have a number of regrets, things I could have done differently. The fact is, Peter knew my faults very well, and he used those against me.”
“Someone would have discovered Peter was alive eventually,” Remus says encouragingly. “I believe you would have been found innocent at some point.”
Sirius is none too sure about that. He’s seen all the different ways his life could have gone, and his freedom has always been an uncertain thing.
“Perhaps,” Sirius says. “Never the less, we cannot count on Dumbledore’s help to be able to go back to England. The best we can do is to make as good of a life for Harry here as we can, and do all we can to protect him.”
Remus nods. “Have you given up on the idea of going back to England, then?”
“Not given up, but Harry’s happy here, and he’s doing well in school. He has friends,” Sirius replies. “What does England have to offer him?”
“Not much,” Remus agrees. “Well, I think you’re right. We should focus on what we have here.”
Sirius hadn’t thought that he would be content to stay in France, but maybe the distance will offer Harry a little more protection.
~~~~~
Sirius does join a dueling club after they return to Paris after the New Year. Harry’s winter holiday ends the following week, and then he goes back to school. The winter term contains harder materials, which challenges Harry considerably. He and Remus help as much as they can, and Sirius offers to hire a tutor to help.
Harry shakes his head stubbornly. “No, I’m going to get this.”
“There’s no shame in needing help,” Sirius reminds him. “Madame Barre said that you might need a bit of extra assistance, and it would be challenging.”
Harry sets his jaw. “I’m going to get this.”
Sirius sighs and gives up. He knows precisely how stubborn James and Lily could be, and Harry takes after both of them. “I know you’re quite capable, Harry, but if your grades fall, I’ll be hiring a tutor. I want you to do well, but you needn’t kill yourself to do it.”
Harry manages a smile. “I know. I’ll just have to work that much harder.”
Remus clears his throat. “You could study with Lionel, you know. That would help both of you. I’m sure there are subjects that are easier for you than for him.”
“I’m better at maths,” Harry says, brightening a bit. “And at history. I like it better than Lionel does.”
“There you go,” Remus says. “Why don’t you ask Lionel to come over after school tomorrow to study?”
After that, Harry nearly always studies with some of the other children in his class after school. He’ll bring his friends home with him, or will go with them after school. Sirius feels somewhat anxious to allow Harry out of his sight, to spend time with people Sirius doesn’t know—or doesn’t know well—but agrees to it as long as he or Remus walk him home.
Studying with his friends gives Harry a little more confidence with the material he finds difficult, and when Sirius meets with Harry’s teachers mid-term, he receives glowing reports.
His maths teacher is especially complimentary. “Harry has become a real leader in the classroom, and he’s quick to help the other students who don’t understand the material as well.”
The history teacher says much the same thing, and his other teachers comment on how much Harry’s performance has improved, and how he’s a friend to everyone.
Madame Barre meets with them last. “Harry has integrated into the school very well, and I can see him growing in confidence. He’s a kind, studious boy.”
“I’m glad to hear that he’s succeeding so well,” Sirius comments. “I was a bit concerned at the beginning of term. Harry seemed to be struggling with the material.”
“The suggestion of forming a study group was very wise,” Madame Barre says. “It’s helped a number of the students as well.”
“I hoped that would be the case,” Remus says. “I know it helped me when I was at Hogwarts.”
“Harry’s building a strong group of friends, apart from Lionel, which is good for him,” Madame Barre says. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, not as far as his schooling goes at least.”
Sirius smiles. “That’s a relief.”
When they emerge from the meeting, Harry is sitting on a bench in the hallway, waiting for them with a worried expression. “Cheer up, pup,” Sirius tells him. “Everybody speaks very highly of you, and you’re doing quite well. I’m proud of you.”
Harry breaks into a grin. “Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Remus teases. “You should know that your grades have only continued to improve this term.”
“The study group really helped,” Harry admits. “Thanks, Uncle Moony.”
“It’s all you, Harry,” Remus replies. “Well done.”
Harry is clearly pleased by the praise. “Thank you.”
Sirius is glad that Harry can accept the praise with relative grace at this point. “Come on, Harry,” he says. “Let’s get something to eat. I think a celebration is in order.”
~~~~~
The rest of the term goes quite well, and Sirius is beginning to make a few friends at the dueling club. The relationships are casual, but he will occasionally go out afterwards for a glass of wine or a meal if he knows that Remus is away, or Harry is with friends.
It’s a little bit strange. Sirius hasn’t had many friends outside the Marauders. He’s not sure he truly had friends inside the Order, given how many were willing to think him a traitor. But he and Remus frequently have dinner with Diana and Denis, and Sirius has his dueling club, and Remus has his work.
Sirius is beginning to put down roots in France, deep enough that it will be hard to leave if the chance ever arises.
The youth Quidditch league starts in April, and both Lionel and Harry sign up, which brings Harry into close contact with even more young wizards and witches. Watching Harry practice, there’s no distinction between him and the other children, other than a certain degree of skill.
Harry easily wins the role of Seeker for his team, a group of boys and girls between the ages of 8 and 10, whereas Lionel manages to get a spot as a Beater.
Their team plays several Quidditch games against others in the league, with games taking place on most Saturdays through the end of June.
Harry’s team wins about half of their games, but Sirius makes sure that Harry keeps focusing on having fun, and not on winning. He knows the competition at Hogwarts could get quite fierce, and there will be time for that sort of thing later. Sirius just wants Harry to focus on having fun, and getting a sense of working in a team.
By the time they’re ready to head back to the farmhouse for the rest of the summer, Harry’s tanned and full of high spirits. He’s already asked to have a birthday party in Paris to allow all of his local friends to attend, and Sirius grants the request with pleasure.
Harry is blossoming before Sirius’ eyes into a confident, bright, and happy young man. James and Lily would be incredibly proud and pleased.
They return to the farmhouse at the beginning of July, well ahead of Bastille Day. Sirius isn’t fond of crowds for a variety of reasons, mostly because he doesn’t feel secure in them, and thinks that it would be all too easy for someone to try to snatch Harry in the crush. They can have their own quiet celebration at home if Harry wants to celebrate the independence of his adopted country.
Granted, Harry has continued to practice wandless magic, and while he can’t be called proficient, he has good instincts. If Harry is scared or threatened, or if someone he cares about is threatened, he has tools in his arsenal to respond other than accidental magic.
Some might call that reckless, but Sirius knows that Harry will need those skills eventually. Sirius views his role as that of a protector, but he also knows he must prepare him as well.
There’s a morning when he wakes up and feels the heat of Remus’ body next to him, hears the birds chirping outside the window, the summer sun streaming into the room, and he realizes that it’s been over a year since he retrieved Harry.
He hasn’t had a nightmare in weeks now, and he’s content.
Remus stirs slightly. “What time is it?”
“Early yet,” Sirius replies. “Go back to sleep if you like. You got in late last night.”
Remus grunts and pulls the pillow over his head.
Sirius swallows a chuckle. Remus is still working for the bookstore as a buyer and courier, and so usually spends the week in Paris, coming to the farmhouse on the weekends. He’d shown up at nearly midnight, stumbling up to bed, and Sirius could see how tired he was.
Harry’s already awake and munching on one of the pastries they bought yesterday when they’d done the shopping for the weekend.
“How are you, pup? Sleep okay?” Sirius asks, starting the kettle.
Harry nods happily. “Do you think we could go flying today?”
“It’s a beautiful day for it,” Sirius agrees. “I certainly don’t mind.”
Harry grins, and Sirius ruffles his hair. “Did Uncle Moony make it home okay?” Harry asks.
“Sure did, but late, so I thought we’d let him sleep this morning,” Sirius replies. He hesitates, then says, “Do you know what I realized this morning?”
“What’s that?” Harry asks, his mouth full.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Sirius admonishes gently. “And I realized we’ve been together for over a year now.”
Harry cocks his head to the side, and then smiles brightly. “I’m glad you came and got me.”
“Me, too, Pronglet,” Sirius replies. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but rescuing you wasn’t one of them.”
“Even though you might get in trouble for it someday?” Harry asks.
“Even then,” Sirius confirms. He pours hot water over coffee grounds in the French press, and snags his own pastry. “Do you have anything for school that you ought to be working on?”
Harry shrugs. “I have some stuff I could do, but maybe after flying?”
The weather promises to be hot, and to get hotter in the afternoon. “Flying this morning, then lunch, then schoolwork.”
Harry nods agreeably, and Sirius thinks he might doing well with the parenting thing.
Then Sirius feels someone crossing the wards, and it’s not someone who has been here before. Keeping his voice calm, Sirius says, “Harry, please go upstairs and wake up Remus. I want you to stay up there with Tibere.”
“What is it?” Harry asks fearfully.
“I don’t know. The wards just alerted me to a visitor, someone who hasn’t been here before,” Sirius replies. “I don’t sense any ill intent, but I would rather not take any chances.”
Harry scrambles upstairs, Tibere at his heels, and Sirius draws his wand and steps out onto the front porch.
He hopes that Remus will understand his unspoken request to stay upstairs with Harry, and to have Harry use his portkey if necessary.
The wards would have pushed back anyone with ill-intent for Harry, but that leaves some leeway.
Sirius somehow isn’t surprised to see Dumbledore strolling up the path. He’s more surprised that it’s taken him this long, and that he’s come alone.
Then again, Dumbledore probably doesn’t see Sirius as a threat.
Sirius stays silent as Dumbledore approaches, stopping a few feet away from the porch. He keeps his silence as Dumbledore stands there, apparently waiting for an invitation.
“You’re looking well, Sirius,” Dumbledore says.
“I’m surprised you made it past the wards,” Sirius admits.
Dumbledore smiles gently, his eyes twinkling. “I bear you no ill will.”
“The wards aren’t there to protect me; they’re meant to protect Harry,” Sirius replies.
“I’m no threat to Harry,” Dumbledore protests.
Sirius raises his eyebrows. “Harry might disagree. He had no desire to return to live with his relatives, and you were pretty insistent on it.”
Dumbledore coughs. “Yes, well, that was for his own good, although with the wards at the Dursleys’ home having collapsed, that is no longer an option.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Sirius asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m just checking in,” Dumbledore replies. “I’d like to see how Harry’s doing for myself.”
Sirius doesn’t want to allow Dumbledore inside, not after their last meeting, and not after Dumbledore’s insistence that Harry would be better off with the Muggles who hated him.
Still, he had reached out for Dumbledore’s help to smooth the way for Sirius, Remus, and Harry to return to England if they choose to do so.
“Come in then,” Sirius replies, with as much grace as he can muster.
He wonders what Dumbledore sees as he looks around with interest. Does he see the faded paint and scuffed wooden floors, or can he see the books and toys Harry’s left scattered about, the remains of a pastry on a plate, the bits of breakfast left over?
Or maybe he sees Tibere sitting on the bottom stair, glaring at Dumbledore out of his one good eye.
“I see you have a Kneazle,” Dumbledore says cheerfully, apparently not minding the glare.
“I’m not sure if he adopted Harry, or if it was vice versa,” Sirius replies. “Harry! There’s someone here to see you.”
He’s not interested in allowing Dumbledore to get very far into their house. He would prefer Dumbledore see that Harry is doing just fine, and then leave quickly.
Remus follows Harry downstairs, his eyebrows going up when he sees Dumbledore. He glances at Sirius, his expression a bit alarmed, and Sirius shrugs.
“Harry, this is Albus Dumbledore,” Sirius says in English, a subtle prompt not to speak in French. “He’s the headmaster at Hogwarts, and he knew your parents.”
Harry holds out a hand politely. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Harry has, indeed, picked up a slight French accent. Sirius wonders what the wizarding public in England will think of that.
“How are you, Harry?” Dumbledore asks, shaking Harry’s hand with grave courtesy.
“I’m quite well,” Harry says with a puzzled air. “Have you come for a visit, sir?”
“I have come to see you, and to make sure you’re doing well,” Dumbledore replies.
That comment doesn’t seem to go over well with Harry. “Why?” he asks bluntly.
Sirius decides to let this confrontation play out, and doesn’t make any attempt to interfere.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Dumbledore asks.
Harry gives him a look that’s far too bitter for a boy his age. “You never did before, or you would have known how the Dursleys treated me, and you would have known I’d be better off with my godfather.”
Dumbledore’s eyes lose a bit of their twinkle. “My dear boy, there were other reasons for you to remain with your Muggle relatives, and at the time, your godfather was not an option.”
Harry crosses his arms. “But you didn’t make sure Sirius got a fair trial, or any trial at all, and you tried to make sure he wouldn’t get to keep me. You were the one who made those comments at the ICW.”
Sirius knows that he hadn’t identified Dumbledore as the one asking those questions, and he glances at Remus, who winces. So, Remus had known and identified the one asking, probably when Harry asked.
“I still thought you would be safer with your relatives, Harry,” Dumbledore replies. “There are a great many things you don’t know about the situation, and that your godfather didn’t know.”
“Then you should have told him what he needed to know,” Harry insisted.
Sirius can’t quite believe that Harry is going toe-to-toe with Dumbledore and is holding his own. He’s certainly not intimidated.
“I tried,” Dumbledore said patiently. “But he disagreed with my methods.”
Harry shrugs. “I trust Sirius. He takes care of me, and if there are chores to do, we do them together. He doesn’t make me do all of them by myself. I like my school, and my friends, and I play Quidditch in a league, and I have Tibere.”
“Then I see you’re quite settled,” Dumbledore replies, apparently rallying. “But what about when it comes time to go to school? Wouldn’t you like to go to Hogwarts?”
Harry considers the idea. “My parents went there, and Sirius and Remus went there, too. It sounds like a lot of fun. But a lot of my friends are going to Beauxbatons, and I think that might be fun. I like France.”
Sirius is watching for it, and so he sees the faint shock flitter over Dumbledore’s face. “Sirius, surely you aren’t considering sending Harry somewhere other than Hogwarts.”
Sirius is enjoying his shock. “I think that’s up to Harry in the long run. If Hogwarts isn’t the best school for him, then we’ll obviously be sending him elsewhere.”
Dumbledore appears to gather himself. “I see. And what would you need in order to send Harry to Hogwarts?”
Sirius would prefer to keep Harry’s options open, and he already knows what he would need at the bare minimum. “The British Ministry would need to issue a statement, declaring me innocent in accordance with the findings of the ICW to start. I would need to have my guardianship stand unchallenged. And when it’s time to send Harry to school, I would need to know exactly who would be teaching him. You see, Harry has expressed some interest in potions-making, and is demonstrating some early skill as well. I would hate to see that snuffed out.”
Sirius knows that he doesn’t need to spell it out any further than that, but he’s not willing to put Harry into the hands of Severus Snape.
“That’s quite a list of demands,” Dumbledore comments. “I’m not sure that is achievable.”
“Then I suppose Hogwarts will not be an appropriate school for Harry,” Sirius says evenly. “Which is disappointing, but maybe it’s for the best. As you said, Harry is very settled here.”
Sirius can see temper flare briefly in Dumbledore’s eyes, but he can’t very well express it in front of Harry. And Sirius knows that he has the high ground right now.
Dumbledore has seen for himself that Harry and safe and happy, and very much loyal to Sirius. He knows under what conditions Sirius will allow Harry to attend Hogwarts.
Dumbledore smiles, although his eyes aren’t twinkling quite as much. “I will see what I can do. But perhaps I might visit on occasion?”
Sirius glances at Harry. “Harry? I think it’s up to you.”
Harry considers it for a moment, clearly mulling it over. “I suppose that might be all right, but you should probably write first, rather than just showing up. It’s not very polite.”
Remus coughs, and Sirius barely manages to swallow his own laughter.
“You’re quite right, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore admits. “I should have called ahead first. My apologies if I caused any alarm.”
“It’s all right,” Harry says magnanimously. “Maybe you just forgot.”
Harry says it in such a way that Sirius knows Harry’s taking a shot at Dumbledore’s age, and he gives Harry a stern look.
Harry looks entirely innocent.
The twinkle has returned to Dumbledore’s eyes. “Quite. I’m sure that was it. It was a pleasure to officially meet you, Harry.”
Harry shakes Dumbledore’s hand again. “Nice to meet you, too,” Harry says. “Can I go flying now?”
“Go on,” Sirius replies. “I’ll join you shortly.”
Once Harry has run outside, Tibere on his heels, Sirius turns back to Dumbledore. “Are you satisfied?”
“Quite,” Dumbledore admits. “He’s quite spirited.”
“More so as time goes by,” Sirius replies. “I hate to be abrupt, but we had plans for the day.”
“Which I quite rudely interrupted,” Dumbledore admits. “Forgive me. I wanted to see for myself that Harry was safe and healthy. And yes, I should have done so before, but I believed that his relatives would look after him.”
Sirius shakes his head. “You should know by now that relatives aren’t always the right answer to the question.”
Some unnamed emotion flickers over Dumbledore’s face, and he nods. “Yes, I do realize that. For what it’s worth, Sirius, I am sorry that you spent so long in Azkaban unjustly.”
Sirius wants to tell him that it’s not worth much, but he swallows the bitter response. “Thank you.”
Dumbledore nods to Remus. “Good to see you as well, Remus.”
“Headmaster,” Remus replies evenly.
Seeing that he’s not going to get anything more out of either of them, Dumbledore inclines his head and sees himself out, apparating once he reaches the bottom of the stairs.
Remus puts his hands on Sirius’ shoulders and squeezes. “Well, it seems we’ll be staying in France for a while.”
“You don’t mind, do you, Moony?” Sirius asks.
“Of course not,” Remus replies. “We have a good life here, and Harry is happy.”
Sirius turns and kisses him lightly. “Thank you for being here. I wouldn’t want to do this without you.”
“The remaining Marauders have to stick together,” Remus replies. “And who knows? Dumbledore might do what you asked if it means that Harry would attend Hogwarts.”
Sirius shrugs. “He might, but I’m not sure I care. I’m quite happy here.”
“You have flying to do,” Remus reminds him.
With one more quick kiss, Sirius heads outside, grabbing his broom, and taking to the skies. Harry lets out a whoop when he sees Sirius, and Sirius reaches into his pocket for the practice Snitch.
“Bet you I catch it first!” Harry yells.
“We’ll see about that, pup,” Sirius calls back, and then releases it.
And under a bright blue sky with Harry’s laughter echoing around him, and Remus watching from the porch below with a cup of tea in hand, Sirius doesn’t think he could be happier.