A Life More Ordinary

The Burrow--November 1985

Sirius stepped out of the Weasley's Floo and into a shambles. Every lamp in the sitting room was upended; pages of books decorated the furniture, walls and even the ceilings. Two of the chairs were upside down. Before he could panic, Molly came in.

"What happened?" he asked; his voice came out higher than usual.

"There was a little excitement," Molly said.

"Is Harry-"

"Harry's perfectly all right," she said soothingly. "He's waiting for you in the kitchen." Molly turned so Sirius could see past her. Harry was sitting at the long table, his head bowed and shoulders slumped.

"What happened?" Sirius asked again, his words strained with a new sort of anxiety--one which he didn't quite know how to place.

"Sit down a moment and I'll explain," Molly invited and though Sirius wanted to refuse and rush into the kitchen, he sat stiffly on the settee--the only piece of furniture which seemed unscathed.

"Now, this wasn't really Harry's fault, Sirius," Molly began in a quiet voice. "I want to make that perfectly clear. He shouldn't have done it, of course, but it was the twins' doing."

"Harry did this?" His Harry? His quiet, proper godson had destroyed the parlor? Mystified, Sirius gazed around at the chaos. "But how could he have?"

Molly shifted uncomfortably. "Fred and George took one of my texts--I've kept quite a number from my days at Hogwarts. They stole their grandfather's wand as well, even though I've told Arthur dozens of times not to keep it where the children can reach it. They wanted to try out a spell, one they created from a combination of several..."

Sirius nodded impatiently, having no idea what this could possibly have to do with Harry; the twins were in trouble every day.

"But instead of trying it themselves... well, I'm very sorry, Sirius; they tried to convince Ron to try it for them, and Ron knows them well enough to say no, but Harry doesn't, and they pressured him so... and Ron thought it would be funny, so he didn't tell Harry not to do it."

Sirius gaped at her. "Harry did this with a wand?"

Molly nodded. "The spell didn't work the way they were hoping it would, of course, and I actually don't know exactly what they were trying to do." She waved her hands helplessly. "But when Harry attempted it, the room... exploded."

Molly's cheeks were flushed, and she looked far more nervous than she should. Sirius couldn't form a coherent thought.

"Sirius, it was a very dangerous thing for Harry to do, but I'm not convinced he even knew what he was doing. And the twins and Ron have been thoroughly punished, I assure you, but I think perhaps it might be best not to overreact to Harry's part in it."

"Overreact?" Sirius repeated dumbly.

"I don't mean to overstep my bounds, Sirius," Molly said hesitantly. "And I know he needs to be reprimanded so he understands what he did was very dangerous and that he must never play with a wand again, but as it was due to the twins' coercion... and Ron should have warned him-"

"Molly," Sirius interrupted and then found he had to clear his throat, "I'll talk to him."

Molly nodded, still looking flustered, and Sirius tried not to take offense at her concern for Harry; he knew very well how fond she and Arthur were of his godson. Though the idea that he might overreact to what had happened was ludicrous. He hadn't so much as told Harry he couldn't have an extra biscuit after dinner. He had no idea what he was supposed to do in a situation like this.

He stared at Harry's bowed head for a moment--he hadn't looked up even once since Sirius had flooed in.

"I hope you won't think too badly of us after this," Molly said quietly. "Nothing like this will happen in future."

Startled, Sirius nodded. "Of course not, Molly. I know boys can be a handful." He tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it. "I'll repair the damage."

Molly shook her head. "The boys will put it back to rights; I've already told them it was part of their punishment." She stood up with a sigh. "I am very sorry about this, Sirius." When Sirius nodded, Molly turned back toward the kitchen. "Harry, Sirius is here," she called quietly.

Harry finally looked up, but he made no move to get off his chair.

"Come on in, Harry," Molly encouraged, and as if he was maneuvered by strings, Harry obeyed; watching the floor the entire time. Molly smiled a little at Sirius.

Sirius cleared his throat twice as he gazed at the top of Harry's head but gave up trying to decide where to begin. "I think we should let Mrs. Weasley start her lunch preparations," he finally murmured; if he was going to make an arse of himself while he fumbled to talk with Harry, he certainly didn't want Molly watching.

Harry nodded mutely; he walked into the Floo without any further prodding and within a few moments, he and Sirius stepped out into the kitchen at Number Twelve.

Sirius cleared his throat again--Harry had not yet pulled out of his slumped stance. "Would you like to help me make the sandwiches?"

Harry's head jerked up, greeting Sirius with wide eyes. Unnerved and trying not to show it, Sirius scooted Harry's chair up to the counter, as was their ritual each day when Harry returned from the Weasleys.

Harry climbed onto the chair, his eyes glued to Sirius, watching him even as they washed their hands at the sink, and then as Sirius fetched the bread and the leftover roast beef and milk from the cold cupboard.

"Do you want a banana or an apple?"

"Banana, please," Harry whispered; Sirius nodded as he came back to the counter. He handed Harry four slices of bread, followed by the beef; Harry arranged everything neatly.

"Would you like some crisps?" Sirius asked after Harry had peeled his banana and placed it next to his sandwich. Harry nodded, smiling a little as Sirius put a small pile on both plates. He carried the plates to the table while Sirius poured the milk.

Any other day, Sirius would have been peppering Harry with questions about his morning. Today though, Sirius simply watched Harry sip his milk and nibble tiny bites from his sandwich. Harry kept sneaking glances at him.

"Did you enjoy your lessons today?" Sirius finally asked. Harry nodded, offering nothing else. "Did you play outside this morning?"

Some of the tension around Harry's shoulders eased. "Me and Ginny and Ron climbed up really high in the trees. Ginny went the highest." Even though Sirius was smiling Harry added, "Mrs. Weasley said it was all right."

"I used to climb the trees at Hogwarts with your dad," Sirius said. With Remus as well. They'd sat sometimes together for hours, usually the day after Remus had transformed, neither of them saying much; not needing to.

It was getting more difficult to ignore the very real pain he felt for Remus' absence. And he refused to 'put it behind him', as a well-meaning Poppy had advised just last month while she'd examined Harry. Beyond the letters he still wrote, and a search by Arthur at the Office of Records for any clues to Remus' whereabouts, there was nothing for him to do. Nothing but hope that Remus would eventually forgive him.

With effort, Sirius clamped down on his grief and focused again on Harry.

"Have a little milk," he encouraged, nudging the cup forward. Harry took several small sips, and having no more topics to cushion them, Sirius said as casually as he could, "Mrs. Weasley said the twins asked you to try a spell for them this morning."

Harry immediately dropped his eyes, and his hands slid into his lap.

"I'm not angry, Harry," Sirius said quickly; Harry continued to stare at the table. "But using a wand can be dangerous if you aren't taught how to use it..."

Harry's shoulders were drooping, and Sirius stopped talking. He hadn't meant to lecture. He cleared his throat.

"Would you do something for me, Harry?" he asked quietly. Harry lifted his head enough so that Sirius could see his eyes. "If Fred and George ask you to do something again, would you ask me or Mrs. Weasley if it's all right?"

There was no hesitation; Harry's head bobbed up and down in several swift nods.

Relieved that he'd taken care of that so easily, Sirius let himself relax and took a long drink of his too-warm milk. But when Harry didn't go back to his lunch--his entire pile of crisps sat untouched--Sirius pushed his plate to the side and leaned forward, his eyebrows scrunched in worry.

"Harry... what's the matter?"

His godson's cheeks were flushed, and he looked like he was struggling not to cry, taking shallow breaths in an effort to hold it in. Panic swelled in Sirius' chest. Harry hadn't cried once since he'd been here. Pushing his chair back from the table, Sirius held his arms out. "Come here."

Harry's breathing deepened, and Sirius waited while he made his decision. The legs of Harry's chair scraped the floor boards and Harry came forward, his eyes fastened on Sirius. Sirius lifted him gently as soon as he was close enough, settling him as if they were about to start their bedtime stories. Harry rested his cheek on Sirius' shoulder.

"I'm not angry, Harry," he said again, as he settled his hand on the back of Harry's head and wove his fingers through the strands.

Harry's eyes shone; he was staring at Sirius' collar. "I blew up Mrs. Weasleys' parlor," he said into Sirius' shirt.

"You didn't mean to," Sirius soothed, knowing it wasn't what a proper parent was supposed to say, but he thought his chest might explode if Harry started to cry.

"She won't ever let me come back," Harry whispered.

It took Sirius a few seconds to process his godson's words. "Mrs. Weasley?"

Harry nodded miserably.

Sirius curled his arm around Harry and pulled him in. "Of course she will. She's not angry with you, either."

But Harry didn't look convinced. "She shouted at us," he mumbled; Sirius bent his head to catch the rest of Harry's words. "After the room exploded, she shouted real loud."

"She was just worried, Harry," Sirius soothed in a soft voice, though his stomach clenched at the thought of Molly raising her voice to Harry. "You might have been hurt. Sometimes people shout when they're worried. She didn't mean to shout at you."

"Didn't shout at me," Harry said, pressing himself closer against Sirius. "Fred and George. And Ron too. She shouted all the way upstairs."

"Oh." Relieved for some reason that Harry hadn't been the target of Molly's shouting, he drew circles on Harry's back with his fingertips. "She was cross with the twins and Ron, but not you."

Harry just shook his head. Sirius rested his cheek on Harry's head and continued the lazy circles. As Harry's body began to melt into his chest, he said, "Mrs. Weasley wants you to come back. I promise. She won't make the twins or Ron go away either. No matter what they do, parents always want to keep their children."

Harry didn't answer, but that was all right. He would speak with Molly after Harry was asleep, and they'd sort everything out in the morning.

--

The next morning, Molly greeted Harry with the same effusive welcome as every other day. Harry answered her only as was necessary and mostly kept his eyes averted. Undeterred, Molly simply kept speaking to him in a soothing voice until she won a timid smile out of Harry.

And then, she marched her boys into the room to apologize for trying to trick him. Even Sirius, as accomplished as he had been at feigning remorse as a kid, could detect no insincerity in their apologies. All three of them, especially Ron, looked miserable.

"We didn't know the room would blow up," George said.

"We were trying to make everything dance," said Fred.

Ron offered Harry a small smile, which Harry returned. "Want to help us de-gnome the garden?" Ron asked hopefully. "It's loads of fun."

Harry nodded, and with a murmur of encouragement from Sirius, he followed Ron and the twins outside.

"Thank you, Molly," Sirius said sincerely as he and Molly watched the children scampering toward the garden. "I didn't expect that to go so well."

"Children are very resilient," Molly said as she patted Sirius' arm. "And Harry is so eager to please, which is to be expected considering his circumstances."

Sirius nodded, guilt keeping his eyes on the children outside. Molly laughed softly; Harry was staring with wide eyes as Fred demonstrated how to twirl the gnomes around.

"You'll be in for a bit of a shock when he begins to test you, I think. I know I always was with mine."

"What do you mean?"

"Children have a natural need to know where their boundaries lie, and Harry, especially, will want to make certain he's safe with you."

Sirius finally tore his eyes from the back garden with a frown. "He is safe."

"Of course he is, Sirius," Molly said with a comforting smile, "but if Harry was as unwanted by the Dursleys as you say he was, he probably doesn't believe that yet."

Sirius pressed his lips together and turned back to the window. "They didn't even protest when we took him away."

"And no doubt, Harry noticed."

Sirius watched Harry through the glass; he had no response.

--

"Would you like to put together that puzzle Professor Dumbledore gave you?" Sirius asked during dinner several nights later. The puzzle in question was actually a set of flat blocks, charmed to change shape and color according to the constructor's mood; a few nights ago, they'd made a bird out of the pieces, and after they'd finished, Harry had launched into a story about the bird hunt Molly had taken all of the children on that morning.

"Maybe we can convince the pieces to help us make a Snitch."

Harry smiled and nodded.

"Eat up, then," Sirius said, pointing with his chin toward the green beans Harry was currently squishing with his fork.

Harry considered the pile of beans on his plate before taking up a forkful. He touched it to his tongue and made a face; he shook the fork until the green vegetables plopped back onto the plate, and then he went back to his rice.

"Don't you like your beans tonight?" Sirius asked.

Harry shook his head.

Wondering if he'd added too much salt, Sirius asked, "Would you like something else instead?"

"Ice cream."

Sirius smiled. "We can have some after dinner if you'd like. But I meant, would you like a different vegetable? We have carrots in the cold-"

"Don't like vegetables," Harry said with a frown.

Sirius tilted his head. "You like all sorts of vegetables-"

"I want ice cream," Harry repeated.

"All right," Sirius said with a nod. "We'll have some just as soon as we finish-"

"I want ice cream now," Harry said, an unfamiliar scowl on his face. "I don't like these beans," he added, and with a swipe of his fork, the beans were scattered across the table top.

Sirius stared at the green decorating the dark wood and then at Harry. Harry gazed back at him, his lips set in a firm line. Finding his voice, Sirius said in a strained voice, "We don't throw food-"

"Don't like it," Harry said firmly.

"All right," Sirius said with a nod, helpless to think of what else to say. "You don't have to like them, but I'd rather you didn't throw them." Harry was still staring at him, and Sirius cleared his throat. "Let's put them back on your plate, all right?"

Harry picked up two beans and then stopped to begin squashing them again with the back of his fork. Silently, Sirius reached over and cleared the rest of the vegetables away.

"Can we have ice cream now?" Harry asked, setting aside his fork, his eyebrows up, his face expectant.

Warring only briefly with himself, Sirius nodded. Feeling wary, he scooped the dessert into two bowls and handed Harry his portion. Harry ate his without incident though and they were soon pulling the puzzle pieces from their carved wooden box and spreading them out on the low table in the parlor.

"What do you think it's going to be?" Sirius asked, leaning forward to examine the pieces, which were much darker than the bright yellow they'd been the last time.

"A tree?"

"Too grey to be a tree, I think." Sirius turned a large piece so that Harry could see the wavy outlines. "Looks a bit like a cloud."

"A cloud?" Harry echoed doubtfully. And then that frown appeared on his face again. "I don't like clouds."

"Rain comes from clouds, and you like rain," Sirius pointed out. "Rain makes trees grow."

Harry nodded, staring hard at the chunk of his puzzle. "It's not working," he said with a huff.

"What's not working?"

"You said this puzzle makes what I want," Harry said, raising his head and directing that frown at Sirius this time. Sirius tried not to pay attention to it.

"Its magic knows what you're thinking about -"

"But I'm not thinking about clouds," Harry objected. "I want it to make trees. I like trees. They're fun to climb."

Sirius wasn't quite sure how to explain the concept of a person's moods to a five year old. "Maybe it will make trees next time." He picked up another piece. "These two look like they fit together... and here, the picture is appearing on the lid there for us to copy." Smiling, he held the piece out to Harry, but Harry shook his head.

"I don't want to do this puzzle."

Sirius felt an unwelcome surge of impatience at his godson's petulant tone; he lowered the piece in his hand back to the table. "What would you like to do?"

"A tree puzzle," Harry answered immediately. "Like the big one in Ron's garden."

"We don't have a tree puzzle," Sirius said with a small shake of his head, "but this one will be fun. Or we can build with your blocks."

"I want a tree puzzle," Harry said; his lower jaw jutted out and Sirius was reminded eerily of Lily. Lily had looked just like that just before she delivered a scathing lecture to one of them--most especially James.

"Harry," he said, smiling and hoping it might diffuse whatever was happening, like James' smiles had done with Lily, "we don't have a puzzle with a tree on it. We have a few hours before bedtime though and we can do something else, all right?"

"No!"

Harry's raised voice startled Sirius enough that he dropped the puzzle piece; it thudded softly on the table.

"Harry-" he murmured, but Harry shook his head.

"I want a tree puzzle, Sirius. I don't like the clouds!"

"I know, Harry-"

Harry swiped his hand and the piece in Sirius' fingers was dislodged; it hit the wall with a dull thud.

"Hey," Sirius said, too surprised to say anything else.

"I want a tree!" Harry's face had gone red; his voice shrill.

It took almost more effort than Sirius had not to scowl at his godson. "Please don't shout," he managed to say with more calm than he felt. "And remember I asked you not to throw-"

With a swish and a clattering of wood on wood, the puzzle pieces were flung off the table and onto the floor.

"Harry," Sirius scolded, the sharp admonishment stealing out of his mouth before he could stop it. Harry stilled. As he met the wary green gaze, Sirius pulled in a silent breath and forced his muscles to relax. "Don't do that again, all right?"

Harry stared at him, and then, keeping his face perfectly still, he picked up the box the puzzle had nestled in and flung it across the room. It hit the floor; the lid tore half off its hinges and settled in a lopsided heap.

"I don't want clouds!" he shrieked. "I don't like them-"

Sirius moved almost without thinking and a very surprised Harry was in his arms a second later. Harry's protests abruptly stopped; the silence was jarring as Sirius went up the stairs. He wasn't completely certain what had compelled him, except that he'd seen Molly carting Ginny away in the same manner--Ginny, however, had screamed the entire way upstairs, even after the door had closed.

Harry continued to stare at him as Sirius set him carefully on the bed. He crouched down to look his godson in the eye. "We don't throw," Sirius said, surprised that he didn't have to work to make his voice firm. And even though Harry was no longer shouting, he added, "I want you sit here until you've calmed down. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Harry stilled once more, and before Sirius could talk himself out of it, he straightened up and turned around.

"Nooo!" The wail was full of distress this time, and it took every bit of strength Sirius had to leave the room. He stopped as soon as he'd rounded the threshold.

The wail turned to a sob so anguished that Sirius slumped against the wall. He listened with his head bowed; his hand pressed over his eyes, and tried to force the sound to break as he stood there beside Harry's open door.

But the weeping didn't abate at all, and after what seemed an eternity, Sirius drew a shaky breath and went back into the room.

Harry was lying face down on the pillow, his small shoulders quaking with sobs. Not caring that he was probably doing everything wrong, Sirius gathered his distraught child into his arms and folded them both into the overstuffed chair beside the bed.

"Shh," he whispered as bent his lips to Harry's messy hair. "It's all right, Harry. Everything's all right. I'm right here."

Harry clung to him, his little fists tangled into Sirius' shirt. Sirius's hand soothed his back as he continued to murmur reassurances, and finally the sobs gave way to hiccups. It was a long while before only quiet sniffles remained. Sirius kissed the top of Harry's head; his face was buried in Sirius' shoulder.

"All right, now?" he asked quietly. Harry didn't answer, but Sirius didn't really expect him to. He ran a thumb down Harry's cheek. "I need to fix the box before we pick up the pieces. And then I think it will be just about bath time."

Sirius felt Harry nod against his chest. "Can I help you fix it?" Harry asked quietly as Sirius shifted. Sirius looked down at Harry's face, cheeks still splotched and puffy and eyes filled with uncertainty.

"Of course you can. You can be my assistant." Before Harry could acknowledge that, Sirius hoisted his godson up and transferred him to his back. Harry squeaked in surprise.

"Hold on," Sirius said with a laugh; Harry giggled as he wrapped his arms securely in place.

--

A/N: Anyone looking for the yahoo group, there's a link in my profile. I changed the name of the group so that's why you might not have been able to access it recently (oops). There is some lovely fan art by Veridian_Dair for this story... one of which inspired the very end of this chapter. It's in the 'photos' section of the group. Huge thanks to you, Cathy. And thanks to JadeSullivan and choosetolive for their help with this chapter.