Snapshots: Interludes

1986

"Hello, Sirius!" Arthur called from garden as the dark haired man Apparated in front of the Burrow.

"Wotcher!" he called back with a wave as. "I don't expect you've seen Harry about, have you?"

Arthur chuckled. "He and the kids were in the kitchen last I saw of them. Go right on in--Molly should just about have some lunch ready if you'd like some," Arthur added and started to pull weeds up again.

"Thanks, Arthur," Sirius said and slowly walked towards the front door. Dodging one of Molly's chickens, he knocked before slowly turning the knob. Smiling, he followed the sound of childish laughter to the kitchen.

He caught Molly's eye as he leaned against the doorframe, putting a finger to his lips with a wink. She smiled and turned back to the pot of soup heating on the stove, watching the children drawing at the table out the corner of her eye. Sirius studied them as they drew--the way Ron didn't stay inside the lines, the way Ginny kept glancing at Harry's parchment, the way the twins were more interested in hitting each other than drawing, and, finally, the way Harry's head of rowdy black hair stood out amidst a sea of red. He craned his neck to try to see what the boy was drawing, frowning when Harry shifted and blocked his view.

"Can I borrow the blue crayon?" Harry asked, pushing his new glasses up as they slid down his nose.

Sirius watched as Ron looked under his sheet of parchment and passed the blue piece of wax to Harry once he found it. "You can have it. I's finished with it."

"Am, Ron," Molly corrected. "I am finished with it."

Ron stared up at his mother indignantly. "Whatever."

Sirius chuckled and grinned as Harry turned around to look at him, his green eyes lighting up. The boy scrambled down from his chair and, grabbing his parchment, ran over to his godfather. Sirius kneeled and let Harry hug him tightly.

"I drew this for you," Harry said sheepishly when he pulled back and held out the slightly crumpled paper for Sirius. "Do you like it?"

Sirius took it and smiled at the picture: three stick figures, two tall ones and a shorter one with glasses stood between them holding their hands in both its own. In the background was an old white house with smoke emanating from a slightly lopsided chimney and a spindly tree stood to the right with what, Sirius guessed, was supposed to be his old motorcycle leaning against it. He pulled Harry into a one-armed hug and kissed his cheek.

"I love it."

"Really?" Harry asked and pushed his glasses back up again.

"Really," Sirius said and stood, ruffling Harry's hair. "Run upstairs and get your things and we'll go home."

"M'kay," Harry said and motioned for Ron to follow him.

Sirius watched as they climbed the steps, six-year-old legs stumbling every now and again as they hurried up them. He sighed once they finally went out of sight and crossed to Harry's vacant seat at the table. The twins stopped their antics and stared at him with admiration. Sirius grinned and picked up a crayon, doodling on a discarded piece of parchment as Ginny watched.

"Fred, George," Molly said and turned, wiping her hands on a tea towel, "why don't you take your sister upstairs and help her clean up for lunch?"

"Aw, Mum!" Fred said, playfully swatting his brother up side the head. "Why do we have to do it? Can't Percy?"

Molly gave them a look that reminded Sirius of his own mother; he shivered and looked away.

"Because I'm your mother and I say so. Because she's your sister and she can't reach the sink by herself. Because Percy is out with Charlie and Bill. Any questions?"

Fred and George shared a Look before answering "No, Mum" is unison and sliding from their chairs.

"C'mon, Ginny," George said as he helped the little girl from her chair. "Let's leave Mum and Sirius alone."

Molly watched them leave, and once sure they were out of earshot, said, as she did every full moon, "Sirius, why don't you have a girlfriend?"

Sirius dropped the crayon stared up at her incredulously. "Sorry, Molly. I didn't quite catch that."

Molly sighed and started to collect the children's drawings into a small pile. "You heard me. You're good looking, you've got a nice steady job and what woman doesn't love a man who's good with kids?"

Sirius snorted and picked up the crayon again, knowing full well he and Molly would have little to talk about if she didn't ask. "Well, maybe I don't want one."

"Sirius, it's just not natural to be alone all the time."

"I'm not alone," Sirius said, doodling something vaguely resembling a snorkack on the parchment.

"I've got Remus. How many times are we going to go to over this, Molly? I neither need nor want a girlfriend."

"Sirius, I'm just looking out for Harry," Molly said, taking the crayon from him and putting in back into its box. "He needs a female influence. Yesterday, for instance, I was reading a book Arthur brought home from work about parenting and the author said that it as important for kids to have both a male and female role model of sorts."

Sirius frowned. "That's nice, Molly, but Harry thinks the world of you. And he called Remus' mum 'Gran' the other day--that made her day, though I think it made him feel bad. He never got the chance to meet his grandparents and lately he's been asking about Lily and James ever bloody minute of every day...."

Sirius sighed and looked out the kitchen window. "Molly, thank you so much for looking after Harry for us. He loves it here and he's always going on about Ron or Charlie and Quidditch. And since when do you read Muggle parenting books?"

Molly regarded him for a minute before smiling. "He's a great kid, Sirius. You've done a good job with him. He talks about you and Remus all the time while he's here."

Sirius half-smiled. "I don't think I could have done it without Remus."

"Speaking of Remus," Molly said, drawing her wand and levitating the drawing materials to a drawer by the sink, "how is he?"

Sirius stared at the grain of the table, absentmindedly following it with his fingers. "He's been better."

"Wasn't there something about a potion--"

"What's wrong with Moony?" Harry's called from the doorway, cutting Molly off.

Sirius started and jumped to his feet. "Ready to go, Harry?"

Harry clutched his dog-shaped rucksack close to his chest and stamped his foot. "Is he sick
again?"

Sirius sighed. "Did you say good-by to Ron?"

"Yes," Harry said shortly and pushed his glasses up again. "Where's Moony?"

"He's at home, Harry. Thanks again, Molly. Same time next month?" Sirius said and crossed the room. He took Harry's backpack and threw it over one shoulder while taking one of Harry's hands in his own.

Molly laughed and waved good-bye to Harry before he and Sirius disappeared with a gentle "pop."

******

The moment they had Apparated back to the small cottage house and Sirius had finished fumbling with the doorknob, Harry slipped from his grasp and ran towards the kitchen.

"Harry!" Sirius called, setting the boy's rucksack by the door and hurrying after him. "What has got--"

He let the thought hang in the air as he stepped into the kitchen. Sirius watched as Remus, still dressed in pyjamas and looking pasty, hastily flipped a copy of the Prophet over before Harry could climb onto his lap. "Harry, I don't think you should be climbing all over Moony."

"It's all right, Sirius," Remus said as the man started towards them. "I've felt a lot worse before." He grimaced as Harry shifted to rest his head on Remus' chest.

"Fine," Sirius said, kissing Remus before he sat down. "I take it you're feeling better?"

Remus smiled and watched as Harry picked at the cloth bandage wrapped around his forearm. "Much better, actually. How are Molly and the kids?"

"They were--"

"Why don't I have a mum?" Harry blurted out, interrupting again. He stared questioningly at his godfather, unshed tears sparkling in behind his glasses. When Sirius didn't answer quickly enough, he turned to look at Remus.

Remus shifted the boy in his arms, hugging him closer to him. "You do have a mum, Harry. You
know that."

Sirius met Remus' eyes before scooting his chair closer to them. "Harry, Lily and James loved you very much. They'd want you to know that and also that they did everything they could to protect you."

Harry took off his glasses and handed them to Sirius to clean. "Why did they have to die though? It's not fair...."

"Listen, Harry," Remus said and watched as Sirius carefully cleaned the glasses on the hem of his shirt, "no one knows why anyone has to die. It's natural and it's never fair when you lose someone you care about. Your mum and dad died protecting you, Harry. They loved you more than anything else in the world. Your dad was a nervous wreck after you were born--he was so afraid he was going to do something wrong or that you wouldn't stop crying when Lily went out for errands or that you would be too cold even with seven blankets. Then you'd smile at him and he'd forget all his worries. He loved you so much."

"And when you took your first step," Sirius said, undoing the laces of Harry's trainers, "Lily was so proud of you. Moony and I had just shown up to take you to the zoo for the day James thought it was about time to get you a broom, but your mum wouldn't let him. I don't suppose you remember getting one for your first birthday anyway, do you?" Sirius carefully placed Harry's glasses back on him and ruffled his hair. "Your mum looked like she could swat your dad with it, but she just shrugged it off and let you keep it anyway. James was so proud of the way you flew around on it like a natural."

Harry sniffed and pretended to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose for the umpteenth time, trying to hide his tears. In a small voice he said, "I don't remember them."

Sirius looked up at Remus, who sighed and held the boy closer still.

"It's just not right," Sirius said, wiping a stray tear from Harry's cheek. "We grew up with your mum and dad and you barely got a chance to know them." He frowned. "Remus, don't we still have that old photo album Lily insisted on putting together before Harry came?"

"'came what?" Harry asked, picking at Remus' bandage again.

"Lily thought it would be nice if we made you a photo album before you were born," Remus said as Sirius gently pulled Harry's hand away. "We all thought we'd chip in with some photos to humour her while she was pregnant with you--she forgot about it as soon as James started to put your crib together. I think it's in the closet upstairs somewhere. Would you like to help me look for it?"

Harry looked between the two of them and slowly nodded. With a sniffle, he said, "Do you feel good 'nough to?"

Remus chuckled. "I'll manage. I've been in a lot worse shape, believe me. Padfoot here can vouch for that." He looked up at Sirius and winked as he said it.

Sirius smiled and stood, a knee popping painfully. He grimaced and reached for the paper Remus had sat down.

Harry gently got to his feet, and as he watched Remus slowly clamber from the chair he said, "Why are you always sick?"

"We've been over that already, Harry," Sirius answered gently, glancing over the advert on the back page of the paper. "We'll tell you when you're older."

Harry stamped his foot. "Why always when I'm older?"

"Don't do that, please," Remus said, taking a step towards the door. "Because you shouldn't have to worry about me, that's why. Give an old man a little help up the stairs, will you?" He offered his hand to Harry, who took it.

"You're not old," Harry said, taking a step with Remus as the man rubbed his temples with his free hand. Sirius chuckled.

"You're not going to die are you?" the boy asked, his brows furrowed.

"Not anytime soon, Harry," Remus said, glancing back at Sirius as the darker man picked up the Prophet. He smiled. "Would you like to see some magic? The album's on the top shelf, I believe, and between the two of us, I'm not sure I can reach it."

"Really?" Harry asked and tugged on Remus' hand as he turned around to look at Sirius. "You comin', Padfoot?"

"You and Moony go ahead," Sirius said. "I'll be up in a minute."

"'kay," the boy said and started asking Remus about Muggle 'magic' tricks as they disappeared from the small kitchen.

Sirius smiled to himself, half-heartedly listening as Remus patiently answered Harry's questions
until he heard the bedroom door close upstairs. With a sigh, he finally flipped the Prophet over and gasped when he saw the headline and the picture gracing the front page. After a long quiet moment he gave a whoop of joy. He dropped the paper and ran from the kitchen, skidding on the hardwood as he rounded the corner to stairs. As he ran up the steps two at a time, the paper landed quietly on the kitchen floor, the front page staring unseeingly up at the ceiling, its headline bold above a picture of a rat-faced man struggling between two burly Aurors:

Pettigrew in Custody; Awaits Trial in Azkaban