A Life More Ordinary

The Seaside--February 1986

"You missed a spot," Remus said, his eyes sweeping over Harry as Sirius rubbed No-Sun Potion into Harry's arms and shoulders. Sirius squinted up at him, a playful frown on his face.

"Would you like a turn?" he asked, waggling the squat tub of potion. Remus' lips quirked, but he made no move to take the jar; Sirius snorted.

"I want to go in the water," Harry said, twisting away from his godfather.

"As soon as I get every spot," Sirius told him, sending a smirk toward Remus and planting a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "Hold still or it'll be dark before I finish here."

Harry's foot jiggled impatiently while Sirius finished. He looked up eagerly when Sirius finally capped the jar. "Can we go in now?"

"If Remus is ready," Sirius said, turning to the other man with raised eyebrows.

"He is!" Harry insisted, tugging on Sirius' hand. Sirius let himself be pulled along, flashing his brightest grin for Remus, who was trailing behind them with an amused smile. "It's cold," Harry said with a shiver as he ploughed into the water.

"Wade in slowly," Sirius advised; he took Remus' hand as he joined them. "It won't feel so cold in a moment."

"Forgot my pail!" Harry said, his small voice lively along the quiet beach. There were other families--all of them witches and wizards from the seaside resort sprawled along the shore, but there were very few children. The white-haired couple nearby smiled at Harry's eager shout.

Sirius and Remus watched him scrambling back over the sand to their towels.

"His energy is boundless," Remus said. "A bit like you, actually," he mused with a smile.

"I'll pretend you aren't insinuating I'm immature," Sirius grumbled, nudging the other man with his hip, "and accept that as a compliment."

Remus chuckled. "Exactly as I meant it."

"I'm going to find hundreds of shells," Harry informed them as he came back, interrupting Sirius' retort and grabbing his arm so that Sirius released Remus' hand.

"Hundreds?" Sirius echoed with feigned look of awe. "You'll need a much bigger pail I think."

Harry's face fell. "Oh."

Sirius crouched down beside his godson. "I think we might be able to make that one a bit bigger," he said with a wink. He pulled his wand from the holster on his calf. "Engorgio."

"Thank you," Harry said, his eyes bright as he gazed at Sirius with wonder.

"You're quite welcome," Sirius said, ruffling the wild mop. "See if you can fill it all the way to the top."

"It will hold at least one hundred shells now," Remus added. Harry glanced at him, giving him a faint smile before he began hunting for shells at the edge of the water.

"He's quiet today," Remus murmured, his eyes fixed on the little boy.

Sirius glanced at Remus; he hadn't thought Remus would notice. Sirius watched Harry combing his fingers through the sand. "He's just excited."

Remus' gaze flicked to Sirius, saying nothing. Sirius reached for his fingers again; giving them a light squeeze.

"Sirius!"

Sirius turned from Remus and lifted his eyebrows in question. Harry made a motion with his hand at the expectant look, bidding Sirius to come toward him. Sirius heard Remus sighing behind him as he went over to join Harry.

"Will you help me?" Harry asked as soon as Sirius was close enough.

Sirius knelt beside his godson; his smile eased the anxious furrow between Harry's brows. "Found any yet?" Sirius asked as he leaned over to peer into the empty pail. Harry sat back on his thighs and shook his head.

"Maybe they're hiding," Sirius suggested. Mesmerized by the mischievous suggestion, Harry watched as Sirius made a show of waggling his fingers deep within the pale grains. "Oho!" Sirius crowed. He plucked a pearly shell from its damp cocoon and held it up. He grinned at Harry's cry of delight.

He handed the shell to his godson, who dropped it into the pail and immediately began scrambling to imitate Sirius. "Look, Sirius!"

"Even bigger than mine," Sirius said as Harry showed off a pale pink bivalve. Harry beamed and continued hunting.

Sirius' eyes strayed to Remus, who had wandered back to the spot they'd staked out earlier. He was brushing sand aside with a palm and settling himself on one of the low chairs. Sirius caught his eye and the corner of Remus' lips lifted in a half-smile.

Turning back to Harry, Sirius said, "Remus always finds the best shells. Maybe we should ask him to help."

Harry's eyes darted up, finding Remus leafing through the pages of his newest manuscript. He ducked his head when Remus looked up; he shook his head. "We can do it," he said, his childish voice determined.

Having not expected the stout refusal, Sirius had no ready response.

"We have ten," Harry said a moment later as he stopped to count the piling shells. His dark eyebrows scrunched together as he squinted up at Sirius. "How many 'til one hundred?"

"Ninety," Sirius said, smiling at the look of concentration on his godson's face. Harry's hands dove back into the wet sand as he scuttled along the beach.

"I hope we can stay all night," he murmured as the fourteenth shell clipped the side of the pail. And then he jerked back with a loud yelp, his green eyes wide.

"What's the matter?" Sirius demanded as he hurried forward, relaxing marginally when he found no blood or tears in the vicinity.

"Something grabbed me!"

And then crashing out of the ground and sending sand flying everywhere, came a house-elf, with eyes as wide as tennis balls. "Dobby is apologizing!" the little elf cried.

Harry leapt back and crashed into Sirius' steadying arms. "It's all right," Sirius said quickly. "He won't hurt you."

"Dobby is very bad! Dobby did not mean to hurt the little wizard!"

Sirius patted Harry's stomach lightly as Harry tried to scrunch himself against Sirius' chest. "It's all right..."

"Is everything all-"

Remus came to a halt, the rest of his worried sentence hanging as he stared at the knee-high creature.

"Dobby!" a vexed voice called out. "You're supposed to stay buried!"

Sirius and Remus turned; Sirius immediately frowning as a familiar boy with pale blond hair stalked toward them. Draco paused when he saw them, his mouth losing some of its stern scowl.

"Oh," he said in a smaller voice and almost immediately Harry was wriggling to free himself from Sirius' protective grasp.

"Malfoy's kid," Sirius explained out of the side of his mouth to Remus, whose eyebrows quickly rose in surprise. "Draco."

"I remember you," Draco said. "You didn't come to fly on my broom."

Dobby drew all of their attention away from that statement; he was banging his fists into his eyes. Harry stared at him, horrified.

"Draco," Remus said, the word strained; it took the blond boy a moment to divert his attention from his elf. "Perhaps you could ask Dobby not to do that..."

Draco's eyes flicked to the elf. "Dobby, stop that," he said in a bored tone. Dobby stopped instantly, his tiny shoulders hunching down in shame as he blinked at his master.

"It's all right," Sirius soothed Harry for the third time.

Harry was hovering just in front of Sirius. Sirius gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It took a minute, but Harry dragged his eyes from the repentant elf and held up his pail for Draco's inspection. "I'm going to find one hundred shells."

Draco stepped forward, his neck stretching out as he stared into the mostly empty bucket. He wrinkled his aristocratic nose. "You haven't got very many."

Harry shrugged, taking no offense at the other boy's criticism. "Sirius is going to help me find all of them. How many more do I need now, Sirius?" he asked, twisting his neck round.

"Eighty-five."

Harry nodded firmly to Draco. "Eighty-five."

Draco studied him for a moment. "Dobby's aces at finding shells. I have loads."

Harry craned his neck, trying to see where Draco's stockpile might be. He snuck forward a bit and Sirius found his hands gripping his godson's shoulders. Harry glanced back, a line of uncertainty creasing his forehead. And as Sirius gazed down at his innocent godson, he had to force himself to ignore his almost ingrained hatred of everything Malfoy--and the fact that this little kid's father had probably been a Death Eater.

Sirius gave his godson a little smile and let his hands fall back to his sides.

But he didn't move away as Harry and Draco dropped to their knees in front of a regal sand castle, and neither did Remus, Sirius noticed. And after a moment, both of them sat down in the sand, keeping wary eyes on Harry.

"It's big," Harry said as he stared at Draco's giant castle.

"Dobby makes wicked sand castles."

"I think he might be barmy," Harry said quietly as he leaned forward, his hands on his thighs. Draco glanced back at the hopping elf.

"He's always that way," he said with a shrug. "My father doesn't like him much."

Harry studied the frantic little elf and frowned. "He seems to like you," he pointed out, but Draco shook his head.

"We have loads of elves. Mother tells them to keep me safe and make my food. They have to play with me."

"They do?"

"Else Father punishes them."

"Well, I like him," Harry said firmly. He gave the nervous elf a smile, which made the elf even more nervous. "I never met a house-elf," he explained as he watched Draco patting the top of his castle. "Ron doesn't have one either."

"Who's Ron?" Draco asked; he looked up, his blond eyebrows scrunching up.

"He's my friend. Mrs. Weasleys is his mum; she teaches our lessons." Harry slid his pail across the sand so that it was sitting right in front of Draco. "You can use my shells."

Draco picked the twirly silver shell off the top of the pile and handed it to Harry. "It's a window," he said. Harry pushed it into one of the castle walls, wiggling it a bit to make it stay. "Father doesn't like the Weasleys," Draco said as he plucked up another shell.

"Why not?" Harry asked indignantly. "They're nice!"

"Father says they don't have any money. And Mr. Weasley is a traitor."

"What's a traitor?"

"I don't know," Draco said as he scooped sand out of the moat; Harry leaned in to help. "But Mother doesn't like traitors. They have blood, she says."

"The Weasleys are nice," Harry repeated defensively, ready to argue if he had to, but Draco didn't disagree with him. "There isn't any blood in their house. And Mrs. Weasley teaches me numbers."

"Dobby teaches me. I can read," Draco said proudly, sticking out his chest a little.

"Me too," Harry said quickly. "Maybe traitors are people that don't have house-elves," he said thoughtfully a minute later. "Mrs. Weasleys plays with Ron and Ginny sometimes. And me."

Draco frowned. "Mother is too busy to play with me."

"Oh." Harry sat back on his heels, considering that. "Aunt Petunia never played with me either."

Draco looked up from the moat. "Who's Aunt Petunia?"

"I lived in her house; with Uncle Vernon and Dudley before me and Sirius were a family. They didn't like me."

"Why not?" Draco asked.

"Don't know," Harry said with a little shrug as he pressed another shell into place.

"Does your new family like you?"

"Sirius likes me. He loves me too."

Draco glanced back at Sirius, his gaze sweeping between both men. "Who is that other man? The one with brown hair."

"That's Remus," Harry said without looking up from the shell he was pressing into the castle.

"Is he your father too?"

Harry's lips became a dash of pink. He shook his head, with enough emphasis that his black hair became even wilder.

"Who is he then?"

Harry glanced up, twisting his shoulders a little so he was looking at Remus and Sirius. His eyes darted between them and then he turned back to Draco's castle. "He's Sirius' friend."

Draco shook his head; he stuck a short stick onto the top of the castle. "But they're holding hands," he told Harry with an important nod. "Mother holds Father's hand." He paused and cocked his head. "Sometimes."

"Well, Remus isn't my dad," Harry said; he patted one of the turrets with a little too much force and it caved in.

"Dobby, fix it," Draco said automatically and the jumpy little elf hopped to.

--

"It is time for Master Draco to leave," Dobby said for the fourth time an hour later; he was beginning to sound frantic. "Little Master's father has dinner reservations."

"Maybe you ought to go now," Harry said, worried that the elf was going to start smacking himself again if Draco didn't listen.

Draco heaved a sigh. "You're such a pest, Dobby," he said as he climbed to his feet. Dobby nodded fervently; his ears flapped around his head, though it seemed a bit odd to Harry that the elf didn't seem to mind being called a pest.

"Father will be cross if I'm very late," Draco said to Harry while Dobby scrambled to gather all of Draco's scattered toys.

Harry nodded; Uncle Vernon had frequently shouted about being late.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" Draco asked; his shoulders drooped when Harry shook his head.

"I have to go to Ron's house tomorrow for lessons."

"Oh."

"Maybe you can come play with me and Ron," Harry said, bouncing a little on his toes as the plan shot from his mouth.

"Father doesn't like Mr. Weasley," Draco reminded him with a frown.

"Maybe if you tell him that the Weasleys don't really have any blood," Harry suggested hopefully. "I've been in their whole house." Draco dragged one of his bare toes through the wet sand as he shrugged.

"Little Master must come!" Dobby had begun hopping from foot to foot.

"All right," Draco huffed. With his shoulders still stooped, Draco gazed at Harry and neither of them spoke for a minute.

"Bye," Harry said, feeling very sorry that Draco's father didn't like traitors.

"Bye," Draco said quietly. And then as Dobby began to dance with agitation, Draco finally turned and followed him toward one of the largest cottages along the beach; it looked even bigger than Grimmauld Place.

Harry stared after him until Draco and Dobby disappeared into the cottage. Feeling a bit stuffy, Harry turned. Sirius was watching him, his mouth turned up in a soft smile. Remus was smiling as well, and they were sitting very close, their shoulders and legs touching.

With a frown, Harry hurried to his godfather and turned so that he could maneuver between them and wiggle into Sirius' lap, his legs taking up most of the space that Remus had just been occupying; Remus slid backward to make room.

"Did you have fun?" Sirius asked as he bent down to kiss the top of Harry's head.

"That was a lovely castle you and Draco built," Remus added.

Harry tilted his head up so that he could see Sirius' eyes. "Draco's father doesn't like the Weasleys," he said; the idea still made him feel rather funny. There simply wasn't anything not to like about Ron's family!

"Yes, I heard," Sirius murmured. Harry settled himself so that he was more comfortable in the crook of his godfather's arm.

"What's a traitor?"

"Well," Sirius said slowly after exchanging a glance with Remus; Harry shifted impatiently. "It's rather hard to understand, but some wizards and witches don't like families that aren't all magical."

"Like the Dursleys?"

Sirius hesitated. "Yes," he finally said. "Some folks with magic only like those who have magic as well."

"But the Weasleys are wizards..."

"Well, yes," Sirius said with a nod. He glanced again at Remus.

"Do you know what a family tree is?" Remus asked. Harry nodded against Sirius' collarbone, staring out at the ocean instead of at Remus. Mrs. Weasley had showed them their family tree; it was a great piece of parchment that she wouldn't let them touch.

"Some families," Remus went on, "like to be able to prove that everyone on their family tree is a wizard or a witch, especially way back to their great-great grandparents. And sometimes, when a family can't prove that, other families get cross. Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded again and was surprised when Sirius bent his head and spoke close to his ear. "Harry," he said softly, "it's polite to answer Remus when he's asking a question."

Sirius' voice wasn't angry, but Harry's stomach squirmed anyway. Remus didn't look cross either, but neither was he smiling. "Sorry," Harry whispered, turning his face even more into Sirius' shirt front.

"It's all right," Sirius assured him as he smoothed Harry's hair. "And don't fret about Draco's father, all right? The Weasleys are a lovely family."

Harry didn't answer right away. Sirius just let him sit though, and finally Harry asked, "Why didn't my aunt and uncle like me?"

Sirius' arms felt a little stiff for a moment and Remus swallowed. But then Sirius was hugging him close. "I think, Harry," he said in a very soft voice, "that they were afraid of your magic... Petunia was afraid of your mum's magic too; she didn't' understand it. And sometimes, when people don't understand something, it frightens them."

Harry didn't say anything. But he did feel very safe in his godfather's arms and it didn't matter that he was holding onto Sirius' shirt as if he had just had that awful nightmare with the green light or that he felt a bit like crying. Sirius held him anyway.

--

Harry sat in the middle of the parlor the next day, the laces of his trainers bunched in his fingers, scowling at them. "I don't want to go."

"You and Ron are going to paint today, remember? You'll have fun-"

"I won't!"

"You always have fun," Sirius said, his calm beginning to evaporate but he managed not to sound quite as exasperated as he felt.

"I want to stay here with you," Harry huffed.

"I have an appointment this morning," Sirius told him, surprised at the request. "And Mrs. Weasley is expecting you." He crouched down and picked up the discarder trainer. "Foot, please," he said as he gave the trainer a jiggle. Harry continued to glower.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

Ignoring Harry's tone, Sirius explained, "Remus and I are going to meet Remus' publisher for breakfast. You remember I told you about Mr. Blacknoose?" He'd managed to encase one of Harry's feet in one of the trainers, but now Harry's black eyebrows had scrunched together and he shook his head vehemently when Sirius motioned for the other.

"Harry, we're going to be late," he said, giving in to the stern tone that he rarely had occasion to use. "Give me your other foot."

"I don't want you to go," Harry mumbled, but he did stretch his sock-clad foot toward Sirius. Sirius maneuvered the trainer on and laced it swiftly.

"I'll be back in time for lunch," he reassured his godson. "Just as I always am." He smiled as he helped Harry stand. "And Remus will be here when we get home."

"All right?" Sirius prodded, trying to get Harry's attention, but Harry was staring toward the kitchen, his brow creased and a frown still on his lips. "Remus can make something special for us," he said, trying to coax the pout off his godson's face, but Harry's expression didn't change.

Keeping his voice light, Sirius put his hand on the back of Harry's head and said, "We don't want to keep Ron waiting."

Harry's was still frowning when they stepped into the Weasleys' parlor.

"Finally!" Ron groaned. "Mum said I had to wait until you arrived! We've been waiting for ages."

Sirius smiled at the overdramatic arm-waving; he crouched down, expecting to see amusement on Harry's face as well, but Harry was simply gazing at his friend. Before Sirius could speak, Molly came in.

"Come along, Harry dear," she said, waving her arms toward the kitchen.

"Jiffy up, Harry!"

Harry had already turned at Molly's urging though and Sirius stood. "Harry?" he called; Harry paused, his hand on the side of the doorway. Sirius smiled and held his arms out, silently calling Harry back for a hug. But Harry ducked his head and spun around quickly, nearly crashing into Molly's back.

"Here you are, dear," Molly said. She ushered Harry over to the table, giving directions, encouragement and admonishments in equal measures as she began divvying up the paints and supplies, oblivious to the fact that Sirius was still standing in her parlor, feeling as though he'd been kicked in the stomach.

--

"I had no idea Nathan was going to ask for so many changes," Remus said with a sigh as he poured tea. "I should have known since he insisted on breakfast. You remember; he always prefaces bad news with food... Sirius?"

A hand squeezed Sirius' shoulder and he started. "Pardon?" he said with a quick shake of his head when he realized Remus had been speaking--and he hadn't been listening.

Remus set the teapot aside and sat next to Sirius at the kitchen table. "You've been somewhere else all morning," he said quietly. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm sorry," Sirius said with a grimace.

Remus' fingers fluttered, dismissing the apology. "What's the matter?"

Sirius sighed as he wrapped one hand around the hot teacup. "Harry had a difficult morning, that's all."

Remus' eyebrows rose. "He did?"

"He didn't want to go to the Weasleys. Was quite insistent about it..."

"Did he say why?"

"No; just that he didn't want me to go to the meeting with Nathan."

Remus pursed his lips; he stared into his dark tea. "He didn't want you to go with me," he finally said, his voice strained.

Sirius felt his brows furrowing as Harry's earlier words echoed in his head. How quiet his godson had become when Sirius had told him that Remus would be at Grimmauld Place for lunch. He'd thought Harry had been pouting...

"He didn't sleep well." The excuse, though it was true, made Sirius' stomach tighten as though he'd just told a lie. But he hated the subdued hurt in Remus' eyes. "Remus, he's just a little boy. And he's more insecure than most children..." Sirius fumbled for the right words. "He likes you," he added, almost cringing again at the pathetic offer.

Remus didn't lift his eyes.

"He does, Moony. He loves to draw with you; you know that-"

"It's all right, Padfoot," Remus interrupted softly, looking up from his tea. "I knew it would take time for Harry to accept me. You didn't want to believe it, but you knew it as well."

Sirius leaned forward, his fingers curling in agitation against the wood and tried not to pay attention to the pain in Remus' voice. "He will, Remus," he said, feeling urgent and anxious for reasons he probably couldn't express. "He's just frightened of losing me. He's had so little chance to trust-"

"I know," Remus said with a quick nod. "And I've been infringing far too much-"

"You aren't-"

Remus put his hand over Sirius' and Sirius finally closed his mouth. "Sirius, you needn't worry that I won't understand that Harry is your first priority. I don't want to cause him any pain." He shook his head. "Not after he's already lost so much-" The word caught in Remus' throat and he fell silent.

"Remus," Sirius said, his words tense, "you aren't causing him pain. Of course you're not. He just needs reassurance. And I haven't been giving him enough obviously."

He wasn't going to explain to Remus how Harry had turned away without a hug this morning--or that the snub had nearly brought him to tears. Bloody ridiculous. Harry would be six in a few months and Sirius was relatively certain that six year olds didn't seek out hugs from their parents, especially in front of their friends.

"He hasn't had your undivided attention very often since Christmas," Remus said. "And I think perhaps he might need it."

Sirius throat ached as he gazed at Remus. He wanted to dispute his words, but that would be a lie too.

"Maybe if you and Harry have a few special outings..." Remus suggested, his voice and posture nonchalant; as involved in the fiction as Sirius wanted to be. "I ought to pay a bit more attention to my manuscript in any case."

The clerk in Flourish and Blotts last spring, it turned out, had been mistaken when he'd told Sirius that Remus would soon debut a new novel. And much to Sirius' dismay, he had discovered at Christmas that Remus had written very little in the intervening years.

"Harry does need my attention," Sirius finally conceded. "But I need you too. And so does Harry."

A sardonic smile was Remus' only response.

"He does," Sirius said, leaning forward so that he had captured both of the other man's hands. "He's confused right now, but that kid has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. Even more so than Lily. Just give him some time and I promise he'll be all right."

Sirius hoped he wasn't lying.

"It's nearly twelve o'clock," Remus said after a silent moment, glancing at the clock. He stood, his hands already reaching out to take his cloak from where he'd hung it on the back of his chair.

Sirius caught his wrist before he could turn away. "Come back tonight, after Harry goes to sleep?"

Remus' features softened and Sirius pulled him closer.

"I waited four years," Sirius murmured. He felt Remus smiling against his lips. "And it was much too long."

--

Sirius didn't like the feeling of anxiety that churned through him when he stepped into the Weasleys' parlor for the second time that day. The silence of the house felt ominous. He walked into the kitchen, finding Molly organizing a giant stack of fish paste sandwiches.

She greeted him with a smile and sample from the pile, but he shook his head.

"The children are outside with Arthur; he came home for lunch," she said, glancing out the large window with a fond smile for her husband, who was currently being wrestled to the ground by four rambunctious children. Percy and Harry were standing to the side, neither of them looking particularly amused.

"Harry was quiet this morning," Molly told him, her own gaze falling on the raven-haired boy, who oddly enough, didn't seem out of place amongst the sea of ginger.

Sirius swallowed as he nodded, reminding himself that it didn't matter that Harry had started his day without a farewell hug. "He was reluctant to leave me this morning," he explained.

Molly didn't look surprised. "He said he wanted to go home," she said. "But he said you wouldn't be there, since you were with Remus."

The knot in Sirius' stomach twisted tighter. "I'm going to keep him with me tomorrow," he told her. "We're going to have an outing," he said. And this time Molly did look surprised. She studied him, her eyes shrewd. And then she nodded.

"I think he would enjoy that very much," she said with a smile. With a faint smile of his own, Sirius left Molly to her sandwiches. He opened the back door to the sound of happy laughter, but he barely even noticed that any of the Weasley children were there.

His eyes met Harry's as he stepped onto the grass and then Harry was moving toward him, his feet breaking into a run in the next second. With relief bubbling into laughter, Sirius scooped his godson up right before Harry barreled into him.

He couldn't breathe, Harry's arms were wound so tightly around his neck, but he didn't care.

--

Sirius spent the next three days giving Harry his complete attention. They went to Diagon Alley again and spent more time along the same beach they'd visited with Remus. They even spent an afternoon at Hogwarts, where Harry decided that Hagrid was 'the funnest'.

"Do you think the ducks will be hungry?" Harry asked as Sirius tucked him in for the night.

"You don't think we fed them enough?" Sirius asked with a smile. They'd gone to pond in the square across the street after dinner.

"Maybe they want something else to eat... maybe chicken."

Sirius chuckled. "Chickens are birds too. It would be like eating their cousins."

Harry made a face. "That's disgusting, Sirius."

"Yes, it is." Sirius smoothed Harry's damp hair away from his forehead. "And now, my little sir, you need to sleep. Ron will be expecting you bright and early."

Harry yawned as he wiggled his head to find a more comfortable spot on his pillow. "Mrs. Weasley is going to take us on a walk in the woods. We have to find all sorts of different animals. And collect potions ingredients."

"Are you going to make a potion?" Sirius asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"We're going to help Mrs. Weasley make one! A potion for fixing scrapes, since the twins and Ron are always getting them. Ginny too, even though Mrs. Weasley says girls shouldn't have so many scraped knees."

"Why not?" Sirius asked, trying not to smirk.

"Dunno. Mrs. Weasley tells Ginny all the time she's not a boy."

Sirius' lips twitched. "I see."

Harry yawned again and twisted a little so that he was lying on his side. "Is Remus going to make lunch for us after you fetch me?"

Hiding his surprise, Sirius said, "I don't know."

Harry's dark brows furrowed. "Why not? Where is he?"

"He's been writing his stories," Sirius answered, willing himself not to give into the surge of relief at Harry's query.

"Doesn't he like us any longer?"

"Of course Remus likes us... loves us actually. Especially you," Sirius said, nudging Harry's chin with a knuckle. Harry smiled.

"Maybe you can help him with his stories so he can visit us," he said. He yawned again, blinking several times as sleep threatened to take over. Sirius bent down and kissed his godson's cheek.

"Maybe," he whispered to the sleepy child.

--

At precisely twelve-thirty the next day, Remus knocked on number twelve Grimmauld Place, his heart hammering in his chest. He was being foolish, of course. Sirius had said that Harry missed him; had asked for him even.

He didn't relax though, even when the door opened and Sirius was grinning out at him. "Not a moment too soon," he said with a chuckle, gesturing for Remus to come in.

"Remus!"

Remus' face froze, startled to hear the exuberant cry. He was even more surprised to nearly lose his balance as an arm wrapped around his leg and a small body skidded against his side. Harry was grinning up at him, his green eyes dancing.

"Look!" he commanded as he shook a parchment in the air. "Draco sent me a letter!"

"Did he?" Remus asked, his laughter having nothing much to do with the parchment in Harry's fist.

"Dobby helped him write it!" Harry exclaimed. "And look, Remus! He sent me a shell! He said he wanted me to have it because I liked it so well! It was the biggest! And Draco gave it to me!"

"It's lovely," Remus said as he made a show of admiring the gift.

"An owl delivered it here while I was at school," Harry explained, hopping up a down a little even though he was still attached to Remus' leg. "I wish I would have seen the owl! Draco says they have loads of owls."

Before Remus could find a suitable answer to that, Harry crowed, "And Sirius says I can write a letter too! Do you think Draco would like one of my dragons? Sirius says he might! But not the orange one because that's my favorite. What color do you think Draco likes?"

Remus caught Sirius' eye as Harry listed every color he knew. Sirius was smiling and Remus nearly laughed at his smug expression.

"Sirius says you might make lunch for us if I ask really nicely," Harry said, releasing Remus' leg but still bouncing on his toes. "Will you, Remus? Please?"

Remus smiled down at him; the weight that had pressed down on his chest for weeks now, finally beginning to ease. "Of course," he answered and Harry beamed. He grabbed Sirius' hand and began tugging his godfather toward the kitchen.

"How do you spell 'dragon', Sirius? I know how to spell 'Harry'. And even 'Draco'. Mrs. Weasley showed me. Ron didn't want me to write Draco's name but Mrs. Weasley told him to hush. She's says that a lot."

Remus smiled as he followed Sirius and Harry into the kitchen, Harry still chattering on.