A Life More Ordinary

The Burrow--September 1988

"It's a car, Harry!" Ron said eagerly as he and Harry peered in through the passenger side widow, their fingers making goggles around their eyes. "Muggles use them to get from place to place."

The awe in Ron's voice puzzled Harry a bit, especially as he knew his friend had seen a Muggle car a time or two. "I know."

"Right," Ron said, his breath puffing a mist on the window as he glanced sideways at Harry. "Did you ride in one with your aunt and uncle?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes." He couldn't really remember much about living at the Dursleys--except being alone in his cupboard and feeling hungry. He did remember riding in the backseat with Dudley, while his cousin whinged that his ice cream wasn't big enough, all while it dripped down his arm.

Harry hadn't had any.

"Brill," Ron breathed. "Do you know how to drive it?"

"Kids can't drive," Harry told him. "Least I don't think so."

"You start it with a key, just like a door," Ron said excitedly; Harry rolled his eyes. "It's inside," Ron told him. "In the innation; that's what my dad called it." Ron was grinning at him and bouncing on his toes. "Come on, we can sit in the front seat."

Harry pulled back from the fogged glass. "We'd better not. You said your mum doesn't like it."

Ron shrugged. "She doesn't like any of Dad's Muggle things. We'll just sit there. There's loads of buttons and switches!"

Harry hesitated and Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm going." He pulled the handle and the door swung open with a loud creak. He slid onto the vinyl seat with a huge grin. "Look at this, Harry!"

Harry leaned in slightly and Ron beckoned him closer. Harry glanced over his shoulder, hoping Mrs. Weasley wasn't behind him. The field was clear all the way to the lopsided house, so Harry cautiously scooted on his knees toward the steering wheel.

Just a quick peek.

"It's a radio," Ron explained, pointing to it. "Did your uncle have one?" When Harry nodded, Ron turned the ignition and the car started with a racing whir.

"What are you doing?" Harry hissed, trying to scramble back, but before he could, Ron jabbed one of the dials on the radio and the car began to move. "Ron!" Harry cried, "stop!"

"I'm not doing anything!" Ron's hands flew away from the radio. But Harry wasn't paying attention to Ron any longer; the car had rolled all the way out of the garage and was rising into the air.

"Harry..." Ron whispered; his eyes were wide.

"Make it stop!" Harry shouted, but Ron only shook his head. Harry's heart raced as he began jabbing at the radio's buttons.

"Harry!" Ron gasped, his face turning red and then purple as the car began to buck, lifting higher and higher until Harry could see the Weasley's pointed roof.

Harry grabbed the seat as the car jerked, and as soon as he stopped pressing the controls, the car smoothed out and simply hovered; the soft putt-putt of the engine was loud in Harry's ears.

"My mum is going to kill me," Ron gulped; he was peering over the steering wheel. Harry nodded.

Yes, Mrs. Weasley was definitely going to kill Ron. And if Sirius and Remus caught him up here... Harry gripped his trouser leg in a nervous fist. "Take the car back down," he ordered. Ron turned to him, his eyebrows scrunched together.

"I don't know how."

Harry gestured with his hands, not caring what Ron did or did not know. "Drive it!"

"We're in the air," Ron sputtered.

"Just do it, Ron!" Harry said, the words practically a screech. "Your mum might come outside!"

"All right," Ron huffed; his face was bright red again. "Hold on..."

Harry's stomach jolted as Ron turned the wheel sharply. And then he was tumbling toward the open door. His hands scrabbled for purchase against the slick seat.

"Harry!"

Ron grabbed the edge of his sleeve, and before Harry could sail out of the car, Ron jerked the wheel again and Harry smashed into his friend; the slamming car door reverberated around them.

"Geroff!"

"You made me!"

Ron shoved him hard in the ribs and Harry fell back, momentarily unable to breathe. But in the next second; breathing no longer mattered.

"Harry!"

"Ron!"

The two names merged into one high-pitched scream. Harry cringed as he shrank back against the upholstery.

"I'm dead," Ron whispered.

One of those voices was too deep to be Mrs. Weasley's. Let it be Ron's dad, let it be Ron's dad, Harry prayed silently.

"They have their wands out," Ron reported, since Harry was still smushed into the cushion. "Remus looks like he's about to faint..."

Remus.

Harry's heart began to thud in his chest and his ears grew hot. He didn't want Remus to find him in here. But as the car began to descend with tiny jerks, Harry knew he had no choice.

The car landed back on solid ground with a groaning thump, and before Harry even realized they were down, Ron's door was wrenched open.

"Ron Weasley," his mother shrieked, "you could have been killed!"

"Mum," Ron tried to defend himself, but Mrs. Weasley gripped his arm and hauled him out of the car.

"Get inside that house, Ronald Billius!" she continued to shout as she dragged him away. Each word was punctuated by a sharp crack to the seat of Ron's pants--with a wooden spatula.

Harry's face was flaming by then, his stomach screwed up into tiny knots. His door was pulled open as well and Harry could still hear Mrs. Weasley and the echoing cracks.

"If you ever do that again-"

The back door slammed.

Harry stayed very still, and hoped that maybe Remus wasn't really here. His eyes opened wide when Sirius stuck his head inside the car.

The knots in Harry's stomach burned; Sirius was staring at him, his lips pressed tightly together.

"Harry James," he said in a low voice, "come out here right now."

Harry had started moving even before the words had left his godfather's mouth. There was no way he was going to make Sirius tell him again.

He slid across the slippery seat, and as soon as his soles hit the ground, Sirius took his elbow and spun him to the side. Sirius' hand came down hard across Harry's backside. Harry yelped and hot tears welled in his eyes as a sharp sting erupted.

"What were you thinking?" Sirius demanded hoarsely, capturing Harry's other arm and crouching down so that they were eye to eye. "Have you any idea how dangerous that was?"

"We didn't mean to," Harry blubbered; the tears were running down his cheeks now but he couldn't even swipe at them since Sirius was still holding his arms.

"You didn't mean to?"

Harry cringed at Remus' sharp question. He was here after all.

"You didn't mean to fly Arthur's car?!"

Harry's eyes darted up; he'd never heard Remus shout before.

The tears stilled.

Remus' eyes were huge and he was clutching his wand in trembling white fingers. Sirius shifted so that he was looking at Remus as well.

"Remus, he's all right," Sirius said in a soft voice; Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he folded his arms across his chest and glared silently down at Harry.

Harry looked away quickly, studying Sirius' knees this time.

"Ron just wanted to sit inside," Harry whispered. "And when he touched the radio, it started flying-"

"Harry," Sirius said, his voice very stern, and Harry's eyes flicked up again, "you had no business being in that car. You know better than to touch any of Mr. Weasley's things, let alone a car!" He narrowed his eyes a little. "Don't you?"

Harry nodded, the tears beginning to sting his eyes again.

"You could have been seriously injured," Sirius scolded. "A car is not a toy, Harry James. Do you understand?"

Harry's throat was too sore to speak. Sirius had used his middle name twice.

"Don't you ever do something so foolish again," Sirius continued, "or I'll turn you over my knee for a proper spanking."

Harry flinched at the forbidding words. Feeling utterly miserable, Harry couldn't even acknowledge him. Silence surrounded them until, finally, Sirius cleared his throat a little, his hands twitching against Harry's arms.

Harry hung his head; his fingertips were tingling. He prepared himself for the loss of Sirius' hands on his arms--for his godfather and Remus to walk away in disgust.

He gulped, his breath catching on a sob when he was pulled without warning into Sirius' chest.

"Merlin, Harry," Sirius breathed next to his ear, "you scared me half to death." His godfather's fingers tangled in his hair, and just like Remus' had been, Sirius' hands were trembling. "I'll be completely gray by thirty..."

Harry had no idea what that meant, but he didn't care; Sirius' arms were tight around him and so Harry burrowed into the comfort and held on.

--

Harry was sitting in the middle of his bed in his favorite striped pajamas, his hair and face freshly scrubbed, when Sirius came in.

"All ready for bed?"

Harry nodded; an hour earlier than usual, just as Sirius had decreed when they'd returned home from the Weasleys.

"I found your book," Remus announced, holding Harry's current favorite in his hand. "Oddly enough, it was in the bread box."

"Oh, yeah," Harry murmured.

"Are you keeping the bread in your bookcase these days?" Sirius asked with a lopsided smile as he dropped onto Harry's bed. Harry smiled a little and shook his head. Sirius motioned with his head for Harry to move toward his pillow, so Harry pushed the blanket away and wiggled until his back hit the headboard; Sirius drew the blanket over his legs.

"Chapter five, wasn't it?" Remus mused, settling himself in the chair alongside Harry's head. He flipped through the pages with an expert thumb, his shoulders and hips shifting as he made himself comfortable.

"Quincy was about to go into the cave with the house-elf," Harry told him.

"Twinkle," Remus remembered with a quick nod. He cleared his throat and began to read.

Harry let his head fall against the wood and he stared at the white ceiling as he imagined Quincy quaking with fear, as Remus had just described.

"Why doesn't he just let Twinkle go first?" he asked when Remus paused for breath. "Twinkle can use magic."

Sirius chuckled. "That would take all the fun out."

Harry thought about that as Remus continued on, and by the time Quincy was dodging a fire-breathing dragon, he had decided his godfather was right. Much more fun this way.

"Eight-thirty," Sirius announced just when the dragon had Quincy cornered; Harry frowned.

"But we have to find out if Quincy gets past the dragon."

"We will find out tomorrow," Remus assured him as he closed the book and set it on Harry's bedside table.

"It's not dark yet," Harry said, glancing out the window.

"That's because you are going to sleep an hour earlier than you usually do," Sirius said, his eyebrows rising pointedly. Harry bit his lip and didn't argue further. "Lie back," Sirius said; he held out his hand for Harry's glasses and handed them off to Remus, who placed them next to the book.

Harry settled his head on his pillow and allowed Sirius to tuck the blanket around his chest.

"What if I can't fall asleep?"

Sirius brushed Harry's fringe away from his eyes. "Then you can lie here quietly and think about what you'll do the next time someone asks you to do something you know you aren't supposed to do."

"Tell them no?"

"And then find an adult if you need to," Remus added firmly. At Harry's hasty nod, Remus stood up to extinguish the lamps. When a soft glow had illuminated the walls, he bent down to kiss Harry's brow. "Good night, Harry."

"Night Remus," Harry said quietly; he was blinking quickly but he wasn't tired. Couldn't be since it was only eight-thirty...

Sirius smoothed the blanket and then stroked his fingers lightly along Harry's forehead until his eyelids began to feel heavy. He leaned down and kissed Harry's scar gently. "Night kiddo."

"Night..."

Sirius joined Remus by the door; they stepped out quietly together, leaving the door open as they always did. Harry pulled the corner of the blanket over his shoulder and twisted into a more comfortable position, yawning widely as he closed his eyes.

--

Sirius sighed as he accepted a cup of tea from Remus. "I shouldn't have swatted him."

"You were a great deal more restrained than I would have been."

Sirius glanced up, smiling a bit at the dark tone. "You're all talk, Moony."

Remus' shoulders lifted in a half shrug. "Well, in any case, you're hardly the first parent to dole out a well-earned swat."

"Hm..."

"Lord knows you and James were spanked more times than I can count..."

"And you weren't?" Sirius asked indignantly.

"Never by Mr. Potter," Remus countered with a smile. Sirius grunted. Well that was certainly true enough. And those had been more than a few impromptu swats. "Don't fret over it, Sirius," Remus advised as he sipped at his tea. "Harry wasn't angry."

"He was too shocked to be angry."

"I meant just now; he was perfectly happy."

Sirius passed a hand over his eyes as he shook his head. "I could never follow through with a spanking. I have no idea why I said that. It just sort of flew out."

"You were worried and upset. And I think Harry will think twice about doing anything so dangerous in future."

Sirius groaned. "Oh, just brilliant," he muttered. "He'll be safe but terrified that I'm about to haul him over my knee at any moment."

Remus had the gall to smile. "A little fear is healthy."

Sirius glowered at him and Remus shook his head. "Of course he won't be frightened of you," he said, sobering a little. "But hopefully, he will think before he acts next time."

"With Ron ... and the twins for friends, he'll certainly need to," Sirius conceded, though he still regretted threatening his godson. "Oy. I think the twins will be more trouble at Hogwarts than James and I ever were." He gave in to the smile that was bubbling up at the memories and finally sighed as the familiar stab of grief settled in the pit of his stomach.

"I worry about him," he said quietly as he stared into his dark tea.

"I know," Remus said softly.

"It's been three years, but I can see it in his eyes sometime--the worry-"

"And as soon as you do, you show him just how cherished he is."

"I know-"

"Sirius," Remus said, leaning forward to catch his gaze, "at some point, you are going to have to let go of your guilt. You couldn't have known events would unfold as they did. And you did not make Petunia and her despicable husband treat Harry as something unwanted."

It was an old admonishment, but one that never seemed to sink in.

"If I had just waited; not been so impulsive..."

"You have no idea what would have happened," Remus said; he covered Sirius' hand with his own. "What matters is that we're here now... all three of us. And Harry is growing up with as much love as a child could ever need."

Sirius smiled, his eyes glued to their intertwined fingers. "He's a great kid, isn't he?"

"He is," Remus agreed when Sirius finally looked up at him. "But what would you expect? With Lily and James' genes?"

"Yeah..." Sirius brought Remus' hand to his lips, grazing his lips over the knuckles. "He's more like Lily, you know."

"And he's got some of you in him as well," Remus murmured; Sirius' face lit up with a grin.

"He does, doesn't he?"

Remus chuckled. "Absolutely."

Still grinning, Sirius stood up and asked, "Do we have any more of those chocolate biscuits you and Harry made yesterday?"

"They're in the pantry, behind the tinned beans. But don't eat all of them or Harry will know you found his stash..."