Break Me!!! Why Dont You-

break me!!! why dont you-

The Best Worst Thing to Have Ever Happened pt. 1

An AU in which James/Lily are somehow still alive, and Harry chooses to continue living with Sirius and Remus. (this one doesn't hurt, not so much; similar to Fault Lines, it will also be posted in installments on tumblr because it's just a dribble.)

"What's it like to be living my life, Sirius?"

June 1995

Sirius had always been susceptible to things that went bump in the night. Remus joked that Sirius didn’t know the meaning of a good nights sleep and had been saying it for years. But usually, when Sirius sat bolt right up in bed, a chill running down his spine and heart racing, it was nothing. Black magic was just particularly paranoid and sensed every movement.

Every noise.

Every unwanted whisper.

“Sirius, go back to sleep…” Remus mumbled next to him when Sirius had reached out to grab his husband’s shoulder, communicating a sense of urgency. A fire when there wasn’t even a spark. Remus had become an expert at navigating the imaginary emergencies and quieted anxiety half-asleep.

Sirius sat still though, listening and hoping to narrow in on magical or muggle.

A lost postman.

A stray animal--that had happened before.

But there was nothing.

Still, he kept his hand on Remus’s shoulder.

“Baby…” Remus rolled over to face Sirius, one eye cracking open a sliver, “Everything is fine.”

“I…don’t know.”

“Do you hear something?”

“No.” Sirius felt Remus’s hand snake out from underneath the covers, placing it gently on Sirius’s chest. He was sure his husband could feel his racing heart, a breath away from taking off his shirt just for more space. “It’s just a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?”

“Like…something terrible is going to happen today. Or…not terrible…I don’t know.”

Remus shifted, moving out of the cocoon of blankets realizing Sirius wasn’t as quick to settle this time around. More awake than he wanted to be at four in the morning, but climbed on top of Sirius’ lap nonetheless.

It was a faint buzzing.

This feeling.

A paralyzing sort of ache that made Sirius want to stay in bed, his mind drafting a letter into work for why he couldn’t have the hearing today. Everything was going to have to wait until the feeling passed and Sirius was sure the sun would come up. Right now he wasn’t so sure.

“You get these feelings every year just before Harry comes home.” Remus’s face was mostly shadows, eyes catching hazy morning light every so often, but otherwise Sirius was looking into darkness. If it wasn’t for Remus’s body on top of his, he might have drifted there altogether. “Every year it’s fine, right?”

“Yeah. Mostly. He’s getting taller and moodier so... I dunno if that’s fine.”

“It’s not terrible.”

“No.”

“Might just have to trust me, love. It’s just a feeling.”

“I…” Sirius sighed, “No, you’re right.”

“No, tell me.”

“It feels like magic. Like someone’s trying to get in here…except not…really. Do you feel it at all?”

“No,” Remus shook his head, “I’m sorry.”

It was probably nothing. Just like every year, when he felt the feeling and it had been nothing then.

Remus usually could pick up traces of magic if there were any to be found, even without Black magic.

“It’ll pass?” asked Sirius.

“I think so.” Remus nodded and brushed his fingers through the dark curls that were sticking to Sirius’s forehead from sweat. “I love you.”

“One more time.”

“I love you,” Remus repeated without hesitation, coaxing Sirius back down in bed.

The feeling didn't pass, though Sirius managed to get out of bed, disappearing to his desk at the ministry hoping to drown out lingering worry with legal procedures. Until mid-afternoon when a patronus came.

A report to the ministers office.

Wizarding council robes swirling around his ankles, wondering if this was the day that Sirius would lose his job for saying bullshit instead of objection in a hearing room.

Remus was there as well when Sirius arrived in front of the Minister’s office.

Harry.

Sirius knocked, and the door opened by magic, two people already seated in front of the minister and Albus Dumbledore.

Messy jet black hair that didn’t belong to his fourteen year old.

A violent swear from his husband.

“I should’ve stayed in bed…” Sirius muttered, the door behind them shutting as the minister invited both of them to take a seat next to Lily and James.

James couldn’t talk about it. What had happened.

James would start and immediately stop and Sirius wasn’t sure if it was because there was magic involved preventing him from doing so or too much weight behind the words. His tongue not strong enough to carry it, or not willing to pass it off to someone else.

Knowing James, it was probably the latter.

Sirius didn’t ask him to explain after a third attempt. There was no pressure, even as the sun started to come up and it was made clear that James wasn’t going to just vanish into the light. It wasn’t an odd fever dream. It wasn’t like the other times Sirius had gotten drunk off his arse and made-up conversations with his best friend in nearly the same spot. Sirius kept unconsciously reaching a hand out to touch James’ face as he spoke; kept his eyes open afraid that if he blinked James would disappear again. But James would just smile--that stupid wide one he had seen on his kid for the past fifteen years; the one he had missed the most on days dark clouds rolled in and promised nothing but storms--and return the touch, warm hand touching Sirius’ face. And how could Sirius make that up? How could he make up Lily’s obnoxious cackle from the next room as she talked with Remus?

If it was a fever dream, it was a really fucking good one.

Sirius would gladly let whatever illness this was consume him if it meant he could have his best friend next to him for the rest of his days.

James looked older than when they had last seen each other, more facial hair too, Sirius remembering teasing James to no end when it took him three months to get anything that resembled a five o’clock shadow. James had been so proud.

Sirius wondered if James was proud this time around, even if no one was around to share it with him.

Of course, Sirius looked older too. They all did after…after surviving a war and doing their parts to rebuild themselves in a world that had opened wide and swallowed them all whole.

“Don’t…be mad at anyone,” James squinted up at the sunlight,

“I’ve been mad at Dumbledore since he let me spend a night in Azkaban…” Sirius muttered, “Being angry at him for this is just another reason.”

“You’re right. I’m impressed you haven’t killed him yet.”

“Shouted at him? Definitely. I’ve tried to get him sacked a handful of times too but…I’ll settle for having the board micromanage him…” Sirius grinned softly, “This doesn’t feel real.”

“Lily stopped me from writing so many times just to say that we were okay…so many times, Pads, you have to believe me, I tried.”

“I would’ve tried too.” Sirius swallowed, “I’m not mad at you. Least of all.”

Sirius left out the part where he had spent a whole month angry at a person who was no longer living because they had left him.

How dare you leave me like this?

What about me?

What am I supposed to do without you?

Sirius had figured it out--how to live in a world without his best friend who had loved him when he thought it wasn’t possible--after years of scrambling and searching for dry land.

“You’re different,” James told him, “I think…same but different.” A not quite comfortable silence enveloped them.

“It’s been fifteen years, I should hope I’m different. You are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” James nodded, “So…how’s my kid?”

And that was when it hit him.

You could be unbelievably happy for something having worked out…and unbelievably hurt at what was about to unravel at the same time.

This was the terrible, sinking feeling.

Sirius shoved down the slight hurt at the phrase my kid. Because Harry…Harry had been Sirius’ kid for years and years. Sirius was the one who was there fore the late-night fevers and trips to St. Mungos; Sirius had been to every Quidditch game and hung up every exam score. Sirius’ desk at work at a picture of the three of them--Remus, Harry, Sirius. His family. And in a few hours…in a single sentence, this shifted.

Pushed from the cliff, falling down to the ground in a heap because it occurred to Sirius that Harry…had his parent’s back. The ones he was supposed to have before the worst thing to have ever happened, happened, and he was put into Sirius’ care.

Suddenly, Sirius was sixteen all over again, out cold on the streets running aimlessly and searching for someplace to go.

I’m lost.

Who will want me now?

Where do I belong?

Because his kid…might not be his anymore.

Sirius never expected to feel this way again at 35. Not when there was a wedding band around his finger. Not when there was a tattoo of July 31st on the underside of his wrist and a bedroom upstairs decorated in Quidditch posters and a desk in the parlor with art supplies.

“Alright?” James asked, breaking Sirius out from racing thoughts that had just come to fruition.

“Yeah. Sorry…” Sirius pasted on a fake smile, “Harry’s the best. I…was just thinking I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

Happiness was so incredibly fleeting.

People talked of happiness like it was some holy grail destination. A white whale. And once you captured this elusive happiness it would be yours forever and never leave.

But that wasn’t true.

Happiness was an emotion, just like sadness or anger, ebbing and flowing like the waves on the shore.

One moment Sirius was happy to have his best friend back; Harry was overjoyed to meet his parents, their dinner table of three turning into one for five. A week of pure elation and laughter with shared memories and time spent playing Quidditch in the backyard.

The innocent getting to know you questions and the high of the happiness rollercoaster all coming to a screaming and startling halt when a different sort of question was posed.

So, how would you feel if next week we took Harry home?

Sirius wanted to scream.

And he did, when he got on his bike under the impression he was taking a joy ride and for once there were plenty of adults to supervise a teenager with insatiable curiosity. He yelled as loud as he could, masked by the sound of an engine, choking on exhaust fumes until his throat felt it would bleed.

This is his home.

He’s already there, can’t you see that?

You can’t take him

Sirius didn’t know how but he had managed to maintain his head. Legally, it wasn’t as simple as just taking Harry home. Which is how they all ended up in the sitting room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Lily and James on one couch, Sirius and Remus on the other, Harry caught in the middle on a chair looking at his hands.

“There’s no pressure either way, Harry. It’s your choice, who you want to stay with,” James’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, holding onto Lily’s hand so tight Sirius could see light knuckles from across the room. He was holding onto Remus’s hand in a similar way, already preparing to have the rug pulled out from underneath his feet.

“...I don’t want anyone to be mad at me,” Harry said. Sirius pulled his eyes away from James to look at Harry who was looking the floor. Caught in the middle of a game of tug-of-war he didn’t ask to play; keeping score and tallying up points when he just wanted to enjoy being there. He knew Harry had hoped for a forfeit, and Sirius had hoped for one as well…even if it ended badly in his favor. For some sort of legality and clause in ancient ministry rules that stipulated what took precedence--adoption papers or biology. But the ministry was unsure of which one to void, laws coming up empty, and it was instead put into the hands of an almost fifteen year old.

It seemed irresponsible.

It seemed unfair to give an impossible, bone crushing weight to a child (though Harry would disagree if those words were ever told to him).

But there they were.

“I won’t be mad at you, love, they’re your--” but with an elbow to his side Remus, Sirius stopped speaking, realizing for the first time that Harry had picked his head up and was looking at James and Lily. Not Sirius. Not Remus.

“You…seem very nice. I...like getting to know you, ” Harry said, “but you might as well be strangers to me. I’m…sorry.”

Sirius watched as James and Lily put on the same fake smile Sirius had been wearing since that day in the ministers office. The smile he used to pretend everything was okay when he had seen this coming from the very beginning.

A rift.

The feeling was back.

The paranoid, lingering feeling that something…terrible was going to happen returned as he walked James and Lily to the door of Grimmauld Place after Harry left to go to his bedroom.

“Good for you. You’ve…obviously made him really happy.” James words were harmless but his tone said otherwise. His face gave him away, looking at Sirius with an odd sort of mixture of betrayal and confusion.

What’s it like living my life, Sirius? You always did fancy being a Potter.

“You don’t mean that.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

More Posts from Scatteredbeans and Others

scatteredbeans

3 years ago

The intimacy of thinking about each other at the same time.

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago

- James's birthday was an elaborate affair. Everyone James had ever spoken to, looked at, breathed in the direction of, was invited to celebrate his birthday (and not just for posterity or formality; because James genuinely noticed when so and so from Ravenclaw who gave him a spare quill once wasn't around for the festivities. James would apologize the next day for not including them). James's birthday might as well have been a holiday at Hogwarts it was so widely celebrated. With something active and engaging planned by Sirius. Like the year he turned the grounds by the Black Lake into a makeshift seaside, covering the grounds with sand and lawn chairs. Everyone played Beach Volleyball that year, a school-wide tournament, James grinning from ear to ear even as the sun went down and the colder temperatures set in. No one complained of too much activity or opted out of playing on James's birthday. They just did.

- Sirius's birthday used to look like James'. For the first few years. Because what better way to know how loved you were than having everyone you've ever met come celebrate you? Admire you? Pay attention to you on a day that was usually wasn't acknowledged at all. Other than a milestone--a year closer to being of age, of being a proper heir. The first few years, it was loud and obnoxious. A disruption that Sirius didn't even want in the first place but thought he should have. The last few years...weren't. The numbers dwindled as Sirius realized having a lot of people he didn't care about wasn't nearly as great as having a few people he did. Birthdays became smaller at fifteen--but were still filled with loud music, and alcohol and the fattest joints Remus could roll. Parties that went until well past midnight, James stifling yawns behind his hand, the night ending looking up at the stars, just as Sirius liked to do.

-Remus's birthday? The quietest, the slowest, the joy of doing nothing. The only day of the year James and Sirius didn't get up at the crack of dawn and stayed in bed until they had to get up for class. When Remus's birthday fell on weekend, it was an entire day, made up of blanket forts and too much smoke coming out of the Gryffindor tower window. Snacks and sweets and plenty of coffee in bed, three heads for one pillow, sharing a flask, giggling, and shooting the shit until the sun went down. Sirius didn't worry about the crumbs on the bedsheets, James didn't start fidgeting and trying to think of something to do. They just were. Dozing in and out of sleep, waking up to repeat the process. Remus's birthday was a slow day. A slow spinning record. Long cuddles. Wishes made on candles that burned far too long because Remus took forever to think of something he could possibly want that wasn't right there in front of him already.

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago

If you're looking for some great must read mlm books, this is the list for you!

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

Social Skills by Sara Alva

Silent by Sara Alva

One Man Guy by Michael Barakiva

Hold My Hand by Michael Barakiva

Wonders of the Invisible World by Christopher Barzak

Alan Cole Is Not a Coward by Eric Bell

Alan Cole Doesn’t Dance by Eric Bell

Queeroes by Steven Bereznai

The Darkest Part of the Forest by Holly Black

Ziggy, Stardust and Me by James Brandon

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

Felix Yz by Lisa Bunker

Exit Plans for Teenage Freaks by Nathan Burgoine

Last Bus to Everland by Sophie Cameron

The House of Impossible Beauties by Joseph Cassara

Peter Darling by Austin Chant

Gives Light by Rose Christo

Stranger Than Fanfiction by Chris Colfer

Carry the Ocean by Heidi Cullinan

The Love Interest by Cale Dietrich

There Goes Sunday School by Alexander C. Eberhart

Lock & West by Alexander C. Eberhart

The Screwed Up Life of Charlie the Second by Drew Ferguson

Love & Other Curses by Michael Thomas Ford

Only Mostly Devastated by Sophie Gonzales

Tales from Foster High by John Goode

How Not to Ask a Boy to Prom by S.J. Goslee

Whatever.: or how junior year became totally f$@ked by S.J. Goslee

Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green & David Levithan

Half Bad by Sally Green

Half Wild by Sally Green

Half Lost by Sally Green

Heartbreak Boys by Simon James Green

Geography Club by Brent Hartinger

We Contain Multitudes by Sarah Henstra

Middle School’s a Drag, You Better Werk by Greg Howard

Social Intercourse by Greg Howard

Totally Joe by James Howe

After School Activities by Dirk Hunter

At the Edge of the Universe by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried by Shaun David Hutchinson

We Are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley by Shaun David Hutchinson

A Complicated Love Story Set in Space by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Boy Who Couldn’t Fly Straight by Jeff Jacobson

Haffling by Caleb James

The Red Sheet by Mia Kerick

The Lightning-Struck Heart by T.J. Klune

A Destiny of Dragons by T.J. Klune

The Consumption of Magic by T.J. Klune

A Wish Upon the Stars by T.J. Klune

The Extraordinaries by T.J. Klune

Flash Fire by T.J. Klune

Openly Straight by Bill Konigsberg

The Bridge by Bill Konigsberg

Autoboyography by Christina Lauren

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan

Every Day by David Levithan

Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan

How to Repair a Mechanical Heart by J.C. Lillis

When Ryan Came Back by Devon McCormack

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Vivaldi in the Dark by Matthew J. Metzger

Life as a Teenage Vampire by Amanda Meuwissen

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

The Art of Starving by Sam J. Miller

Hero by Perry Moore

Marco Impossible by Hannah Moskowitz

Like a Love Story by Abdi Nazemian

I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson

More Than This by Patrick Ness

Earth to Charlie by Justin Olson

Play Me, I’m Yours by Madison Parker

Here’s to You, Zeb Pike by Johanna Parkhurst

Junior Hero Blues by J.K. Pendragon

When Everything Feels Like the Movies by Raziel Reid

Jack of Hearts by Lev A.C. Rosen

Camp by Lev A.C. Rosen

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell

My Awesome/Awful Popularity Plan by Seth Rudetsky

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

Rainbow Boys by Alex Sanchez

Rainbow High by Alex Sanchez

Rainbow Road by Alex Sanchez

So Hard to Say by Alex Sanchez

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

All Kinds of Other by James Sie

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera

More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera

Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

Freak Show by James St. James

Ray of Sunlight by Brynn Stein

Imaginary by Jamie Sullivan

(In)visible by Anyta Sunday

The Dangerous Art of Blending In by Angelo Surmelis

366 Days by Kiyoshi Tanaka

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas

Wild and Crooked by Leah Thomas

Because You’ll Never Meet Me by Leah Thomas

Fan Art by Sarah Tregay

Suicide Watch by Kelley York

Thanks to my friend @lostintrace for the art, each are characters from books on this list. If you want help picking out a book, hit my inbox!

Header: Red, White & Royal Blue (L) and Carry On (R)

Red: Jack of Hearts (and other parts)

Orange: Alan Cole Is Not a Coward

Yellow: Heartbreak Boys

Green: The Lightning-Struck Heart

Blue: Boy Meets Boy

Purple: Cemetery Boys

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago

They say love’s supposed to show up on your face. It’s one of the reasons I can never look you in the eyes for too long.

~ Either you see right through me, or you see what’s right in front of you. I don’t know which one of those terrifies me more.

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago

yeah sure break my heart again!

Old habits die hard

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scatteredbeans

1 year ago

2+2=5. "When a lie has been told enough times, it becomes real." Two and two is five. Every morning I tell myself I like who I am. How many times do you repeat the lie?

I don't hate myself. I love myself too. I'm surrounded by myself, hounded by my own cries, caged inside my own ribs. I love myself. My body is my temple but some days it feels like the ruins of Petra. I love myself. I just don't like myself all the time.

On rainy days full of blues, I'm tired of this body, of this mind. 2+2=5. If you could sell all your bad memories, only on the condition you'd have to give away the good ones too, would you still do it? Are you your memories or are you the vessel that houses them? Are you the product of your thoughts or the manufacturer? When you repeat a lie enough times, it becomes part of the truth, expands and births itself anew.

Two plus two is five. Am I the voice in my head or the notes of my heart? Am I the lies I tell myself? Lies of consolation, lies ot condolences. If I love myself, why do I keep seeing my corpse at the bottom of the ocean, on a road, slumped on my chair, buried in the dirt? If I like myself, why do I keep hearing four, four, four? Two plus two is four. Where do lies end and god's honest truth begin? Because lord I'm tired of not knowing.

-Ritika Jyala

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago

Vincent Giarrano on Instagram

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago

wow. okay WOW!

The Best Worst Thing to Have Ever Happened pt. 6

read parts 1-5 here (links to part 5, the rest are there)

AU in which Jily is still alive but Harry chooses to stay with Wolfstar and everything is worse now.

(thanks for following along, bebes and letting me guide you through another heartbreaking endeavor. xoxo)

January 1996

“So I don’t…have to go back?” Harry asked from their kitchen table, looking at Remus over the sandwich he prepared. Their kid had come home, duffle over his shoulder, running to their bedroom to find Sirius, without even having been filled in on the details. He was just happy to have an excuse to be there against his godfather's side. Sirius had slept for the longest length of time in months, dodging the alarm clocks and morning sun, even as both Remus and Harry got out of bed. Remus told him to take his time, last Remus saw Sirius had been immersed in a long shower.

“Do you want to?”

“Not really.”

“Then, no.” Remus did his best to keep his voice level, not wanting to show Harry just how truly angry he still was. Even through James calling through the mirror. Even with the post received that morning from Lily asking just to talk. Remus wasn’t interested in talking. Remus was only interested in guarding Harry and Sirius, and though he never thought it would be the case, that meant staying away from Lily. And James.

“But I thought….” Harry trailed off, eyes going down to his plate, “I thought I couldn’t? I don’t want to be a pain, I’m not…it’s fine over there, Moony, I promise. They’re nice!”

Remus put down his cup to put two fingers under Harry’s chin, tilting his face upward again so they could make eye contact, “I know this has gotten very messy, and that is our fault entirely. You are a child--”

“I am not.”

“You will be my child until I am dead and buried, love, that’s just how it works. You’ll forty and I’ll be…one hundred probably and you will still be my kid,” Remus told him, “What I mean is…you are not responsible for the actions of the people who are supposed to take care of you. None of this is your responsibility to worry about, but it’s very kind that you are. Makes you a good person.”

Dark eyebrows knitted together behind glasses, “So what happens now?

“I don’t know yet,” Remus admitted, “I had only gotten so far as to this moment…and unfortunately may need to ask Sirius for some…guidance for the next parts.”

Harry grinned softly, “Might make me a bad person, a bit, but I kind of like it when Sirius scolds someone who isn’t me...like when he goes and shouts at Snape?”

“Cheers to that, love.” Remus returned his smile, raising his cup to his lips as Harry went back to lunch, both of them eagerly waiting for Sirius to come downstairs.

“He deserves to get to know them, Remus.”

“They don’t deserve to get to know him.”

“She was just mad.”

“I've been mad at you plenty and have never said those things.”

“Remus.”

“Sirius.”

Sirius sighed and ran a hand over his hair, pulling back the covers on the bed, “I--”

“I’m glad, that you can forgive and I am glad that you are made up of second chances, Sirius when it comes to how you’re treated. But I’m not, and I…I am happy to supervise their visits again but like hell is he spending a single night over there.”

“I’m just trying to figure out how this can be amicable.”

“Amicable stopped being a possibility the second they asked the ministry to keep looking.”

Sirius cleared his throat and crossed to where Remus was standing at the bathroom sink. He wrapped his arms around his husband's waist from behind, settling his forehead into his shoulder. He could’ve stayed there forever. Where it was simple and easy and his husband could hold some of the weight he’d been carrying around since he had woken up in the dead of night with a feeling. It was still there. “Fudge says it…shouldn’t take too long for the case to get closed because they…don’t really have one. Harry won’t be involved at all.”

“Good,” Remus said and Sirius wished he could detach the way Remus had. Pretend it was just two strangers and not his best friend and his wife. Not the person whose family had raised him. Remus's hand fell on top of Sirius’s around his waist and Sirius could feel his fingers trace over the tattoo of Harry’s birthday on his wrist, “In case I make fun of you for it again later and forget…thank you for obsessively keeping every bit of documentation about Harry we’ve ever gotten. Neatly organized too. I’d be very fucked without you.”

Sirius laughed, kissing the top of Remus’s shoulder through his long sleeve shirt.

James had floo-ed over to Number 12, Harry set to go back to school in just under two weeks, wanting to spend time while he could. Harry was alone in the sitting room when he arrived. He had stayed up talking with Sirius late into the night, not quite having the words to cover everything Lily had said or erase them completely. Even if Sirius was quicker to put things aside, clinging to everything that was familiar, even if it wasn’t good for him, James knew Sirius remembered everything. James knew the hurt was still lurking in the caverns of his best friend's body, alongside the words Orion and Walburga Black had said to him as a child.

He’s not your kid sitting comfortably next to You’re not wanted here, Sirius, get out.

“Oh. Hey,” he greeted when he saw James, not quite a smile, but not quite a frown either.

“Hey, are…your…Remus and Sirius here?”

Harry nodded, “They’re around. Did you see the snow? We could probably have a proper fight in the backyard…”

“Sounds good,” James smiled, “I’m going to go find them, just let them know?"

“I’ll be here,” Harry looked back down, at the book in his lap but the color of the pages caught James’s eye.

“What are you working on?”

“Oh, uh…it’s just my journal. Nothing important.”

“I journal too. Did you know that?”

“Mhmm. Sirius told me. That’s why I started…he gave me all of your old ones too. So I could get to…know you, I guess,” Harry looked up at him again, “Kind of weird that I read them now considering…I think I know too much.”

Sirius told me.

The journal even looked the same as the one James wrote in.

James snorted, “Please tell me you stopped before seventh year?”

“I really wish I did.”

Lily was in the kitchen, putting biscuits onto a tray, ready to go join Harry, Remus, and James in the sitting room, the snow falling outside. Everything was made fresh, and Lily asked Harry to pick a record to listen to. There was faint music playing, light conversation, a noticeable space in the room that would’ve been for Sirius had he wanted to come over again. He hadn’t spoken to Lily, aside from through cordial post regarding Harry, even if the early morning mirror conversations had resumed with James.

“Is this Joni Mitchell?” Lily asked, guitar filling the sitting room, Harry coming to sit in the armchair.

“Yeah,” Harry grinned, “She’s the best for snow days.”

“I love Joni Mitchell. Did you know that?”

Harry nodded again, taking the cup of tea Lily held out for him, “Thank you. Sirius told me. We have a bunch of records that used to be yours, play them a lot. I suppose you could have them back?”

“No…no, keep them.”

There was a knock at the door of his study and Sirius sat up from where he was reclining in his desk chair. He was supposed to be collecting documentation, the entire cabinet in his desk designated for Harry pulled open and untouched. Birth certificate, schooling records, every single Healer appointment, and broken bone; a drawing Harry had made at nine that won a prize at school, his first detention from Hogwarts, a copy of a Hogsmeade permission slip. Not a single moment of Harry’s life had gone unaccounted for, and all that was going to be used to prove to a court--a fucked up system that Sirius worked every day to overturn--that Remus and Sirius should be able to keep him.

They left you with me, and I got to keep you.

But he hadn’t been left with Sirius at all and filing to keep him felt dirty. Even if it might be necessary.

Harry opened the door, Sirius immediately glancing at the clock on the wall to get the time, confirming that it was late. Harry didn’t have his glasses on, sweatpants hanging on his hips, and a Hufflepuff sweatshirt pulled over his head that was a little big on him.

“Did you come to tell me to go to bed?” asked Sirius jokingly

“As long as you don't tell me, I won't say a thing."

“Moons can deal with both of us being cranky tomorrow then…” Sirius said, offering a smiling and leaning forward onto the surface of his desk, after flipping over the document that was definitely not for Harry’s eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Just some filing.”

“Is it about the court case?” Harry had made his way into the study, taking a seat on the leather chair by Sirius’s bookshelves. The ones that were separate from the library and mostly contained legal texts.

“Don’t worry about that, babe.”

“I’m already worrying about it, so you and Remus telling me not to really isn’t helping.” Harry muttered, picking at a thread of his sweatshirt.

“Is that why you’re up?”

“Mmm…yep. Yes. That’s exactly why I’m up. Just…worrying.” Harry said half-convincingly and Sirius snorted out a laugh. Almost sixteen meant a blatant insistence of not needing to go to bed before midnight. Almost sixteen meant navigating an over-tired teenager who had clearly not gone to sleep and had a tendency to get very weepy when that was the case. Almost sixteen also meant that staying up to talk to his boyfriend through a gifted two-way mirror was the most important thing in the world. Sirius remembered feeling that way. “Do…you think they…they’re mad at me?”

“No one's mad at you, Harry. I promise.”

“Okay, but what happens when everything's set with the ministry? What if they’re just…mad?”

Sirius stood up from behind his desk to walk over to Harry, taking a seat on the ottoman next to his godson’s bare feet. “They won’t be.”

“But what if they are?”

“Then you tell me, and I’ll take care of it. That’s how things work right?” Sirius asked him, catching green eyes, and reaching up to pull the fingernail he was chewing on out of Harry’s mouth, “Just as things have always worked. Someone is being rude to you, or you think they’re mad and you don’t know what to do, you talk to me and Moony and we’ll take care of it.”

“You can’t do that forever you know…fix things.”

“Watch me.” Harry rolled his eyes, but caught himself before his other hand made it into his mouth, “Yeah?”

“I guess.”

Sirius waited, keeping his eyes on Harry, and keeping his hand where it was. Adolescence was just a waiting game, it turned out. Waiting to get taller, waiting for his voice to drop, waiting to be picked up and dropped off, waiting to be old enough to make your own decisions, and waiting to remember what it was like to be young again. Waiting for the world to stop being a series of never-ending questions and start being a place full of magic. Sirius had learned quickly if he just waited…Harry would put pride aside in favor of some answers.

“Why...are they so mad at you? I don’t understand. I’ve tried to, I really have, and…to think how they must be feeling? But I don’t…get why they’re mad at you.”

Sirius smiled sadly, “I…think sometimes, mad is just easier. We’ve talked about that, right?”

“Yeah but I’m a teenager, I'm allowed to get mad at stupid things because hormones," Sirius couldn't help but chuckle, "They're not...and you said it goes away? That you’re supposed to be old and wise and all that and not get mad for no reason?"

“People are imperfect, my love. Including your parents--”

“They’re not my parents.”

“James and Lily,” Sirius corrected, “I’m also imperfect, so is Remus, and…we all make mistakes and it's unfortunate you’re in the crossfire. But we’ll sort it out and it’s far too exhausting to stay mad forever.”

But Harry shook his head, “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

“You and Remus were the best things to ever happen to me. That…you’re the perfect people for me. So you’re wrong.”

“I’ll be wrong,” Sirius said softly, Harry’s hand squeezing his own.

I got to keep you.

His kid.

Harry stood on the platform in front of the scarlet steam engine, holding onto his trunk as Sirius's arms rested on his shoulders. James and Lily were there too, after a few more missteps over the holiday that were done with the best of intentions. There was some saying about that wasn’t there? That it never ended up well?

It hadn’t.

But Sirius was there, and all Harry had to do was sign a piece of paper saying he wanted to stay with Remus. And Sirius. And that no amount of magic could chance that. Most days, Harry had trouble deciding what kind of tea he wanted for breakfast or choosing the correct answer on a test he definitely should’ve studied more for, but this? Was the easiest decision he had to make in a long while. The paper glowed gold and so did the lining around Harry’s heart that had been drawn tight for weeks.

Harry didn’t know what exactly had happened but had gotten one too many warnings from Sirius to stop asking, Harry James to know it hadn’t been something light. There was still shattered glass that was being picked up, dinner time conversations occasionally halting when a piece was found. All Harry knew now was that he didn’t have to spend a night on strange sheets unless he really wanted to. Everything could happen as he wanted it to, how it was supposed to be.

Harry shifted on his feet and looked up at Sirius, finally feeling ready to leave as he spotted curly brown hair walking towards the train, “I’ll see you in June?”

“Before then.”

“February?”

“Better.”

Harry grinned and turned around giving Sirius a brief hug before anyone saw him, taking a step back away from his godfather. “And…I can call you?”

“Whenever you want, babe. Same as always,” Sirius told him, “And Sunday’s for tea. I’ll be there. Be good, yeah?”

“I know, I know. No skiving off to snog, study before tests, no missing work, got it.”

“I love you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry responded, turning away from Sirius’s smiling face to look at James and Lily standing there. I love you definitely wasn’t right. I’ll miss you wasn’t right either. “I’ll…write. I’ll write you?”

“We would love that, Harry,” James said smiling, extending his hand for Harry to slap it as they had been doing for months as hello and goodbye.

“Write us…whenever you want.” Lily added.

Harry still wasn’t sure what to do with her. He had never had a mother before and wasn’t sure he needed one now. Not when everything Mum’s apparently did was already being covered. And…maybe that was the whole point.

It wasn’t a need.

It was going to have to be a want and there was still time for that. Harry had plenty of room in his heart for that.

“I…I’m sorry this didn’t turn out like you hoped,” Harry said before he could stop himself, noises of the platform filling his ears and Sirius’s expression shifting, “But…I kind of told you, I already have parents, and they’re really great. They…make sure I’m polite and turn in my homework and insist I eat vegetables and all that. I…don’t need two more, and I don’t need you. I’m really happy, you know? I’m just fine, more than fine, even. And I'd...be fine if you hadn't shown up. I'd be happy.”

“We know, Harry. It’s okay.”

“No…I mean…I’ve already got parents…but,” Harry paused, “I’ve…never really had godparents before. And...I think I'd like that.”

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago