Latest Posts by scatteredbeans - Page 5

- 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.

oh my god. oh my GOD.

mercy pt. 6

What would you do for someone you love? Would you lie for them? Steal? Would you kill for them?

(a story of seduction, sin, and crime in six parts)

disclaimer: i apologize for everything you are about to read and take full responsibility

part 1-5 here

“Can you please tell us what happened, Mr. Black?”

“I-I-wish I knew. I-is this how I’m going to spend the rest of my life? Wondering what happened to my wife?” Sirius stammered out, hands shaking as he gripped a cup of tea in the hospital waiting room, police surrounding him.

“Just tell us what you know, Mr. Black.”

“I came home with Harry—we spend Thursday nights together, it’s our little tradition, gave Petunia time to relax, take a bath have some time for herself—and when I went upstairs, noticed the bath was overdrawn. The carpets were wet and-and, oh god,” Sirius choked out, looking down at his hands, “I opened the door to the bath and there she was.”

“What time was this?”

“About 7:30.”

“And what happened then?”

“I hoped she was just knocked out,” Sirius said, “There was so much…so much blood. I called for the paramedics immediately, maybe they could do something? But I don’t know…it was too late…I-I don’t know anything else. I…That probably doesn’t help.”

“We’re sorry for your loss, Mr. Black. That’s all we need from you. It…was a tragic accident.”

Sirius looked up at the policemen, “That’s…it?”

“We needed a statement for the records, but there’s nothing to be done, Mr. Black. I wish you and your son well.”

Sirius watched the policemen walk out the double doors of the hospital.

How long was the appropriate amount of time to fake cry in a waiting room for your dead-pseudo-wife? If he left too soon would it be suspicious? If he stayed too long would it look like overcompensation?

The authorities were gone. Petunia was dead, her body already covered in a sheet and Sirius had signed whatever paperwork he needed to sign.

Harry was at Number Four Privet Drive, with wet carpets and a bathroom covered in blood from where Petunia had slipped.

Slipped on the water getting out of the bath.

An accident.

Her head hit the side of the sink as she fell.

Another accident.

Oops.

--

Sirius sat in front of the desk at the ministry of magic, Harry next to him, legs swinging from the chair as more paperwork was rifled through, the two of them waiting for some worker to return. It had been easier than Sirius thought, introducing Harry to a brand new world of magic. It had been…simple enough, to convince Harry to leave Number Four, and move into Number 12, not even blinking when Remus was there as well.

“So, I just…live with you now?”

“We have to sign some papers, kind of like how we did with your aunt? But over in the magical world.”

“Are they magic papers?”

“They are,” Sirius grinned, “They glow when everything’s complete.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Brilliant!”

“You know…you don’t…have to live with me, Harry,” Sirius told him, even if inside he hoped that Harry would agree to that as well; hoping he had been able to establish enough of a relationship with the boy that living with him wouldn’t be so…strange.

“No one else wants me.” Harry shrugged, “I dunno where I would go. Do…you not—”

“I want nothing more than to stay with you, Harry,” Sirius said, turning his head to look at his kid, reaching a handover and putting it on top of his knee gently to stop the fidgeting, “For however long. As long as you want. Just…you and me, kid.”

“What about the magic school?”

“You’ll go there, and…I’ll be there to pick you up on holiday's. And we’ll get a tree, and we’ll go to the seaside and make sandcastles and—”

“Can I ride on your bike?”

Sirius laughed, “Yeah, I’ll teach you to ride eventually. When you’re a bit bigger, I think.”

“Just..us?”

“Mhmm. Remus too. Is that okay?”

“That’s…that’s okay.” Harry nodded, “Thanks for asking…if it was okay, I mean.”

“With me, you get choices. I promise.”

“Why are you so nice—” Harry’s voice was cut off by the door of the office opening once more, a ministry worker appearing with a file of paperwork and a bright smile.”

“Let’s get this sorted, shall we?” she said, with an air of finality, as she opened the file.

Several signatures and explanations later, things were signed off on, Sirius for once thankful that wizarding laws pertaining to childcare, outside of blood magic, were fickle and flawed. Muggles certainly didn’t have it right when it came to household tasks or money storage—a bank account that anyone could just access if they knew your birthday?—but seemed to have protocol right for keeping children safe, Sirius recalling the interview he had to partake in when he legally adopted Harry in their world. But this was over with a wave of a wand, and Sirius and Harry walked out of the office together, returning back to Number 12.

Where Remus was waiting, pumpkin juice and chocolate cake ready in celebration.

Joy to be found in the midst of heartache, supposedly.

The silver lining.

--

Days later, the wards at Number 12 buzzed with magic, someone coming to disrupt the peace that had settled amidst the grief. Something that looked like buying Harry new bedsheets and letting him pick out the color for his room; giggles at muggle television shows that he wasn’t allowed to watch and far too much indulgence of ice cream (which was often not run by Sirius at all and was a side-effect of living with Remus Lupin). Sirius went to the door, wand in his hand, half of his mind still waiting for the other shoe to drop, even if he knew and he did know, that there was…nothing to be done.

Death was final, after all.

“Albus,” Sirius said shortly

“May I come in?”

“No. What do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’re surprised to see me here?”

“Yes, actually. And without a casserole, nonetheless. Didn’t you learn any manners?” Sirius asked

Albus nodded, “I…am sorry for your loss, Sirius. It’s…quite the twist of fate, isn’t it?”

“Hardly.”

Sirius met his eyes, blue twinkling back into grey.

“Seems…this all worked out well for you, Sirius.”

“My wife is dead, I wouldn’t call that working out well.”

“I didn’t know you and Petunia were close.”

“Don’t pretend you know a damn thing about me.”

Identical words had been said 3 years ago when Sirius was first let out of Azkaban. When he was first cleared of charges and unable to take custody of Harry. Because Sirius was irresponsible, Sirius needed to get his own life together, Sirius didn’t have blood magic on his side. Sirius remembered looking at all the faces of the wizengamot; the minister; Dumbledore, all of them looking down so they didn’t have to look Sirius in the eyes. Because ex-convict or not, there was no safer protection than Black magic, and they all knew it.

“May I come in? To say hello to Harry?”

“No, you may not.”

“The truth will reveal itself, Sirius. It always does.”

“What exactly are you saying, Albus?”

“The…coincidences are…peculiar. You’ve been in the right place at the right time for years now.”

“They checked my wand.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I was bowling, with Harry.”

“I don’t doubt that either.”

“The only thing I am guilty of is love. I didn’t know that constituted a crime of passion.”

“Love makes us do the unthinkable, doesn’t it?”

“Do the unthinkable? Like what? Kill her husband and son so I could marry her and adopt Harry? And then kill her? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? I’m trying to move on. I suggest you do too.”

“Sirius—”

“Have a nice day, Albus,” Sirius said, stepping backward and pulling the door shut, casting a few spells for good measure. He walked back down the halls of the house where Remus and Harry were sitting, reading a chapter book together, Harry looking at Remus with wide eyes.

“What did I miss?” Sirius asked, sitting down next to Harry.

“Only the best part!”

“The best part? Well, you have to read it again, Remus.”

“Who was at the door?” Remus asked

“Just…someone coming to pay their respects but…I told them we were okay. We don’t need anything, right?”

“I never want to eat pasta again,” Harry said and Sirius laughed wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulder.

“Well…you’re lucky I love you so much. I’ll do anything to make sure you never eat pasta again.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

--

“You were right,” Remus said, after Harry had gone to bed, tucked away in a bed at Number 12, the blood at Number Four Privet Drive still staining the bathroom tile. “How were you right?”

“I’ve been dating her. I married her. I knew everything about that woman. I made routines for that woman. Clumsy, isn’t she?” Sirius laughed, wiping a fingerprint off his glass.

“All I had to do was make a noise in the house..you extended the bathroom counter just the right amount and…she did the rest.” Remus held up his glass of champagne, “You clever bastard.”

“And the ministry will spend the rest of their lives trying to find out how I was involved…and they’ll find nothing.”

“Cheers, my love,” Remus said, and they hit their glasses together, toasting yet another successful murder.

Vincent Giarrano on Instagram

*double heart eyes*

@the2headedcalf / On Love, Alain de Botton /  @tilthat / Céline Sciamma / Twitter: Nightshiftmp3 / Twitter: Thepartypope / Portrait of a Lady on Fire / The Clean House, Sarah Ruhl / The History of the Band-Aid / weird-facts.org / @roses–and–rue

omgggg these doodles are tooooo cuteeeeeee <33

🪴 You 🍄 Are 🐛 So 🐞 Loved 🦥

Love you too!!! Such sweet messages and cute emojis! Thank you anon xxx

A stack of books that were either never finished, never published, or were destroyed.

Pratchett’s unfinished works were run over by a steamroller as per his wishes, Waugh set fire to his manuscript, Sappho’s poetry was burned by order of the Pope and Lady Wortley Montagu’s daughter threw her journals in the fire for being too incendiary, ironically. The others were either started or planned out but never completed.

hi! i wanna know what you think about maddie saying "its only the beginning" is it like beginning of the @buse cycle cassie will probably experience with nate or something else

hiiiiii

well, if we take it literally then yeah ofc definitely what you said. however, i cant help but think....

1. it might be maddie saying 'oh bitch you aint seen nothing yet'! some reputation era revenge shit.

2. it might be maddie saying how everything will get out of control and soon cassie wont have any control over her actions and that getting up on stage thing was only the beginning.

3. orrrr this one's my favourite, it could be the writers telling US, that this is just the beginning and there's more to come in s3, hehe :))

hope you have a nice day/night :))

"The thought of maybe being a good person is what makes me trying to be a good person"

this episode broke me. i repeat. BROKE. ME.

i love lexi and rue's friendship and how real they get with each other. seeing rue being the supportive best friend - that was EVERYTHING!! also maybe the fact that she finally tied her hair - oof

anyway, kudos to cassie, making it look like a horror show; still don't feel no sympathy for nate or cal for that matter;

lexi 'being a fucking g'; maddie chasing cassie barefoot; elliot being all cute and singing a song and lexi's mum being the ultimate personification of coOl!!!

also do you guysss think maddie saying 'its just the beginning' is some sort of easter egg??? mhhmm????? lemme know, yeah?!

OKAY. so that was season 2. loved it. FUCKING LOVED IT GUYS!

see yaa babes next season, hv a nice day and drink lots of waterrr :))

*heart eyes*

February 14 means love and love means wolfstar 💕

dudesss, do you guys see what i see or is it just me???????

maude apatow

tom holland

istg guyssssss-

my blog is just a reblog of all the other blogs :))

Do you walk in the valley of kings? Do you walk in the shadow of men?

wow.

FUCKING WOW.

Maude Apatow you genius of a human being, YOU KILLED IT! YOU LEGIT DID! god what an episode!!!!!!

alsooo maddie dear sweetheart, god that made me tear up!!!! how could you fucking do that cassie?? how could you?????? btw thats a dom-sub relationship (cassie & nate) right there, right??? wht do y'all think????!

now, fez was a sight, wasnt he?! holy frking moly that SUIT!!! THE ROSES!!!! THE LOOK!!!!

not to mention the fucking locker room scene!!!! yeeeeeeeeeeeeee! that was fucking EPIC. alsoooo lexi's mum aaaaahh!!!!

GOSH CANNOT WAIT FOR THE NEXT PART!!!! how in hell am i supposed to go on for a week. A WEEK. until the next part comes out!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

70′s wizard kids (click on for better resolution)

remus lupin

stay strong lovely, you're needed here, and you're very loved and so so worth it and fuck anyone who believes otherwise. your friends love you and they won't give up on you, but you have to not give up on them too, you have to trust them, and you can, and they would be so lost without you. you're so valid, sweetheart, i love you.

hey, do my quiz lol

https://uquiz.com/5feQmp

Fiction & Poetry:

A Life Apart, by Neel Mukherjee

A Thousand Dreams Within Me Softly Burn, Sahil Sood

Babyji by Abha Dawesar

Blue Boy, by Rakesh Satyal

The Boy and the Bindi, by Vivek Shraya

Cinnamon Gardens, by Shyam Selvadurai

The City of Devi, Manil Suri

Funny Boy, by Shyam Selvadurai

My Magical Palace, by Kunal Mukherjee

Ode to Lata, Ghalib Shiraz Dhalla

The Paths of Marriage, by Mala Kumar

The Pregnant King, by Devdutt Pattanaik

Quarantine, by Rahul Mehta

She of the Mountains, by Vivek Shraya

Stealing Nasreen, Farzana Doctor

Swimming in the Monsoon Sea, by Shyam Selvadurai

The Two Krishnas, by Ghalib Shiraz Dhalla

The World Unseen, by Shamim Sarif

Non-Fiction & Anthologies:

AIDS Sutra: Untold Stories from India, by Amartya Sen and various authors

Because I Have A Voice: Queer Politics in India, edited by Arvind Narrain and Gautam Bhan

Dirty River, by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Gay Bombay: Globalization, Love, and (Be)Longing in Contemporary India, by Parmesh Shahani

Impossible Desires: Queer Diasporas and South Asian Public Cultures, by Gayatri Gopinath

The Invisibles, by Zia Jaffrey

A Lotus of Another Color, by Rakesh Ratti

Love’s Rite: Same-Sex Marriage in India and the West by Ruth Vanita

Loving Women: Being Lesbian in Unprivileged India, by Maya Sharma

Made in India: Decolonializations, Queer Sexualities, Trans/National Projects, by Suparna Bhaskaran

Me Hijra, Me Laxmi, by Laxminarayan Tripathi

Neither Man Nor Woman, Serena Nanda

Sakhiyani: Lesbian Desire in Ancient and Modern India, by Giti Thadani

Same-Sex Love in India, edited by Ruth Vanita and Saleem Kidwal

Sexual Sites, Seminal Attitudes: Sexualities, Masculinities and Culture in South Asia, by Sanjay Srivastava

Sex Longing and Not Belonging: A Gay Muslim’s Quest for Love and Meaning, by Badruddin Khan

Shikhandi and Other Tales They Don’t Tell You, by Devdutt Pattanaik

Queer Activism in India: A Story in the Anthropology of Ethics, by Naisargi Dave

Queering India: Same-Sex Love and Eroticism in Indian Culture and Society, by Ruth Vanita

With Respect to Sex: Negotiating Hijra Identity in South India, by Gaytri Reddy

and ends when it was cold but it wasn't winter yet

the story starts when it was hot and it was summer

also shout out to Rue's mom, I dont KNOW what its like for her, i dont know a thing abt being a mother and heck i cant even BEGIN imagine what it must be like for her!!! she is just so strong!! i mean like fuck man??? how is she SO FUCKING STRONG!!??

i mean from what i saw, what we all are seeing it must be so fucking hard!!!

shout out to all the mums out there, all the mums who know what its like to be rue's mum, all of you who has been in her position, and just really all of you who are mothers tbh, god you are doing a great job and yes you all are so strong SO FUCKING STRONG!

i hate nate! I FUCKING HATE NATE!!! i dont i have it in me to ever EVER sympathize with him!!!! he is a fucking asshole and i dont know what this makes me but i would love it LOVE IT if fez beat him up again!!

also the audacity????! THE FUCKING AUDACITY to say sorry after THAT?????? maddie babe baby oh my god i just wanna hug you!!! its just so fucked up!!

fuck you nate!

also cassie, what the fuck?!

he da best!!!!!

there are no words

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.”

okkkk yessssss GO REMUS!!!!!!!! also i do get it but FUCK YOU LILY!

can not wait for part 6!!!!!!!!

The Best Worst Thing to Have Ever Happened pt. 5

read parts 1-4 here (links to part 4 but the rest are there)

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

-

December 1995

James held his arms open as he saw Harry walking towards them off the Hogwarts Express, only to be left standing empty-handed, looking foolish. Like mounting your broom to try to fly, only to realize the hem of your Quidditch robe was caught in something, or your teammate was standing on it as a joke.

It felt terribly unfunny, though, watching his son fly into his best friend's arms before even acknowledging James' existence. He could see the same look plastered all over Lily’s face, trying to bite back disappointment that even after months of exchanging letters, attending Quidditch games, and spontaneous dinners in Hogsmeade as an attempt to clear muddy waters, Harry still ran straight to Sirius. Remus would’ve been next had he been waiting on the platform as well and not finishing up work at school. James got a high five. James was allowed to take Harry's trunk.

“Was the train ride okay?” James asked, trying to catch his son’s gaze that was decidedly looking anywhere but at him and Lily.

“I guess.” Harry shrugged, putting his hands into the pockets of his trousers awkwardly, “Are we going to dinner?”

“I made something special, it’s at home--”

“You mean your house,” Harry corrected him, “It’s not my home.”

“James made dinner, love, and he’s a much better cook than--” Sirius started, his hand pushing back dark hair from Harry’s forehead and out of his eyes. A gesture James wished he could do.

“We always go out when I get back though,” Harry’s voice pitched upwards, dangerously close to a whine as he looked up at Sirius in protest. As if returning to a house with a homecooked meal was a fate worse than death. James was about to open his mouth and tell Harry that they could do whatever he wanted, despite the way Lily’s expression changed at the whining their kid was doing, but Sirius bent down low to say something into Harry’s ear.

It was odd. Really.

James remembered his own father doing something similar when James was a teenager and complained in public spaces. The hand on his shoulders, a gentle but firm voice in his ear to Mind your manners, James. Your mother is just asking a question.

When Harry was born, James saw a life ahead of him, practicing how his own "very stern father" voice would sound. But not Sirius. It was strange to see his best friend be the one to quiet a teenage tantrum. Though it seemed that there hadn't been a warning at all, a smile crossing Harry's face at whatever Sirius had said.

“Really?” asked Harry, turning back to look at Sirius, the four of them walking away from the platform together, tattooed hands still on teenage shoulders.

“Yes, really.” Sirius said, and inclined his head towards James, “You can ask if you don’t believe me.”

“Sirius says the curry recipe he makes was your Mums? And you do it better? Did you make that?”

“I know you wanted it to be a surprise,” Sirius said off-handedly, and James stared in awe for a moment at his best friend. The selflessness; the what’s mine is yours, don’t question this, even after arguing for the past month and cold shoulders and colder showers and crawling his way out of a bottle that James had unintentionally put him into. Perhaps intentionally. Maybe.

“I…did, and it was,” James grinned slowly, “I don’t know about better but…I do know I have loads more recipes.”

“Cool.”

--

Harry had made up every excuse in the book to get Sirius to stay at this house-his house? New? Or temporary? Harry wasn’t sure--as long as he could. But eventually, Harry couldn’t stifle the yawns as the evening got later, and Sirius was giving him the look that meant to take himself up to bed even if James and Lily hadn’t said anything yet. Maybe that would be a benefit.

One home with a bedtime and rules about picking up his towels after he showered.

One house without those things.

Without Sirius and Remus.

Harry wasn’t sure he liked the odds of the trade-off, but let Sirius go anyway determined to be brave and stay put. Because that’s what he had to do. Because he didn’t want Sirius to get in trouble if he somehow insisted on staying the night every night at Number 12. He didn’t want to cause any more trouble than he already had, Harry pretending not to notice the way the air crackled around Remus whenever he brought James and Lily up or the way Sirius was being extra convincing about this new arrangement. Like the way Sirius used to explain maths equations with exuberance when Harry would groan at the kitchen table.

Harry groaned alone in the bedroom that was technically his but also wasn’t, after saying goodnight to James and Lily, wishing Sirius was there to convince him it wasn’t so bad, just one step at a time, Harry. The sheets weren’t as soft. There was no enchanted ceiling to look up at with constellations. There was no Remus and Sirius just downstairs in case anything happened. Not that anything did. Harry rolled around in his bed, on pillows that weren’t broken in and didn’t smell like the soap Sirius used, fighting against his racing heart in the dark.

He was fifteen.

He could do this.

He could fall asleep.

Harry squeeze his eyes shut and gripped at the blanket over his shoulders tightly.

Go to sleep, go to sleep, it’s okay.

Legs kicked under the covers in frustration at the hot tears behind closed eyes.

Stop it.

But he couldn’t, his breathing becoming irregular as he lay frozen in bed clinging to covers that weren’t his own with two people down the hall who also weren’t his. Were this Number 12 and there were worrying things in his mind keeping him from sleeping, Harry would move downstairs and climb into bed between Sirius and Remus. Remus would mumble incoherent nonsense from his slumber, but move his arm so Harry could burrow into his side; Sirius would tell him everything was okay until he could fall asleep, even if it took hours. Even if it meant Sirius didn’t sleep himself.

Harry stuck a tentative hand out to his bedside table and grabbed his mirror.

“Sirius!” he said in a hushed whisper, not wanting to alert James and Lily to the fact that he was up and calling home like a baby.

“Hey, my love,” Sirius responded.

At that was all it took.

Seeing Sirius on the other end, one of Remus’s hands on his chest, showing Harry that they were in bed together too. Hearing Sirius’s voice. Hearing my love like Harry was the most important thing in the world to him. The hot tears poured out of his eyes, Harry diving under the covers in hopes of muffling the noise.

“Oh…Harry…”

“I-I-can’t sleep, and my sheets smell different and-and-I even liked dinner! I can’t help--” Harry choked out words one by one, not sure if he was making sense or if it was just garbled together, “I’m sorry, I d-didn’t--”

“Shhh, hey, can you take a breath for me?” Sirius asked gently and Harry took a shaky inhale. “Good. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“N-n-no.”

“Okay.”

“C-can…you just…can you just stay on the mirror? Until I’m as-asleep?” His voice was thick, his nosy running and he used the edge of the blanket to wipe his eyes.

“Of course.”

“Can you just talk?”

Sirius nodded, and Harry watched in the dark as Sirius settled against his own pillows--sheets even softer than Harry’s, always fluffed to perfection-- and pulled back the mirror so Harry could see Remus too, head not far from Sirius’s own. “Did I tell you I played a bit of a joke on one of my colleagues?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“They have some suspicion it was me, but you know, we’re all fans of a legal system here and they do say innocent until proven guilty,” Sirius told him, his voice even and calm. Harry put the mirror next to him on the pillow, muscles releasing tension as he drifted off.

--

Christmas Eve 1995

The day had been one of the best so far. James had come over to Number 12 early with Harry to help make Christmas dinner, including the countless cookies that had become tradition.

“Can I help?” James had asked

“Yeah but you get the snowflake apron, the reindeer are mine,” Harry responded, throwing a pale blue, frilly apron across the room at James who just laughed, eagerly coming to the counter. Lily arrived much later, Sirius halfway listening to her and Remus in the other room. Harry bounced between all of them, teasing James about the mess he made and his clumsiness in the kitchen, moving into the sitting room to tell Remus about a book he had just started with Lily. It was something that resembled peace. Family. Just a group of people united by love.

It was the first day Sirius had felt like he had James back; the one with the bright smile and unfailing optimism; the one who made Sirius laugh until he couldn’t breathe, this time with the added benefit of Harry joining in; the one who wasn’t interested in competing with Sirius and was just happy to be together. Christmas had always been the best day of the year to James and Sirius had been trying to capture all of the joy James and the Potters had given Sirius for the past fifteen years, hoping that would be adequate compensation for Harry.

It had been so nice. Until…it wasn’t.

“Where’s Harry?” Lily asked, some point after dinner, coming to find Sirius in the kitchen where was cleaning up, away from The Weasley children, and the guests still in his home. James was at the table pretending to help, though he and Remus were more content to make more mess, dropping sweet wrappers onto the floor. Flashbacks of his best friends dropping their socks on the floor of the dormitory. “I can’t seem to find him?”

“Oh, he’s outside with Cedric…” Sirius said absently.

“With his boyfriend?”

“Yes?”

“That’s…a little inappropriate don’t you think?” and Sirius turned to face the redhead from where he had been putting wrappers into the bin. She was looking to James for support, and Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“He’s fifteen…I don’t think it’s inappropriate for him to go snog his boyfriend, no.”

“Alone? Unsupervised?”

“You would rather supervise the snogging? Bit weird, Lils,” Sirius attempted a joke to avoid the argument. He just wanted one day. Remus was already gripping the table, prepared to see this through even if Sirius put a stop to it. His husband had the patience of a saint, and it was being tested nearly every day, Sirius moving moment to moment wondering when it would finally tip and Remus would unravel.

“No, I think it’s inappropriate for him to be alone with his boyfriend when we’re supposed to be spending time as a family, and he has guests over.” Lily crossed her arms, “Who knows what they’re doing out there.”

“Snogging.” Remus told her so Sirius didn’t have to, “He’ll probably be back in fifteen minutes or so.”

“Well, I--”

“You are more than welcome to go find him, Lily,” Sirius flicked his wrist to magically start the dishes, leaning against the counter, and he watched as Lily stuttered. James and Lily hadn’t had to do any of the hard things yet. Sirius had been stepping in despite Remus’s voice telling him to stop saving the day, let them lie in the mess they made. Sirius was learning to be better, especially if Harry wasn’t going to be hurt by it. If Harry wanted to stay up late because a bedtime hadn’t been enforced? Fine, James and Lily could navigate the rough waters of an overtired teenager; if Harry didn’t pick up the bathroom or do his holiday schoolwork? That was on them. Sirius couldn’t help but roll his eyes when Lily made no move to follow up on her desire to go find Harry and interrupt the snogging, even though he knew that was going to irritate her, and James was going to get upset that Sirius was being rude to his wife. A snowball effect, rolling down a hill, ruining an otherwise good day.

“It’s your house, I don’t want to--”

Sirius laughed, “I don’t have a problem with it. You do. You can go find him, but you don’t get to use me to go do the dirty work. You don’t get to pick and choose the parts of being a parent.”

--

January 1996

Harry had come into the world and Lily could look at the tiny bundle in her arms and pick out the parts that were James and the parts that were her. As he grew, she continued to play the game--hair that came from James, eyes from Lily; curiosity from Lily, an easy sense of humor from James, baby Harry giggling at everything under the sun--until she couldn’t play it anymore.

She had imagined how it would be when he got even older, and Lily hoped to see her husband's kindness, and athleticism; she imagined looking over one day at an older version of Harry and seeing herself in the way he moved his hands or asked questions.

But she didn’t. Those images vanished and no matter how hard she tried, Lily couldn’t find any parts of her and James in their son aside from physical appearance, the fifteen-year-old in the bedroom down the hall could’ve been just another kid on the street he was so different than what she imagined.

Instead, she looked at Harry, sitting for breakfast, and saw Sirius. She saw Sirius in the way Harry held himself up straight and tall at the table, with his napkin in his lap, dripping with manners that Lily had never been taught or would have even thought to teach her child; in the way Harry asked where are the salad forks? When going to set the table. James laughed but Lily had felt so embarrassed that their home didn’t differentiate. She heard Sirius in the way Harry laughed, loud and unapologetically. She saw Remus too, in the way Harry found scraps to use as bookmarks, and the way Harry took his tea. There was Remus in the way Harry spoke with his friends or talked about school work. And Lily hated it. And she hated herself for hating it.

It wasn’t supposed to be that way.

Every second she looked at Harry, was another step backward. Her son slipping away into someone that wasn’t equal parts her and James. Especially when Harry returned from a trip to Diagon Alley, shopping bags in hand and Sirius in tow, a wide grin on her son's face that was only ever seen when Sirius or Remus was present. The conversations she had with Harry only feature one-word answers or shrugs of shoulders, neither of them sure what to say.

“Where’s James?” asked Harry immediately, and Lily pretended it didn’t hurt that her husband wasn’t Dad. In fact, Sirius was Dad, her son peppering in the name throughout dinner time conversations or deliberately in front of them when making requests. To prove a point. Because according to Remus, Harry only had used Dad on rare occasions until this month. Lily hated that too.

Dad, can you hang this up for me?

Dad’s working until late, did he tell you about the court case?

“Dad got me new gloves for seeking and a snitch to practice with! It can be spelled for the wards and do a bunch of stuff!”

“He’s actually out back right now trying to magic our outdoor floo, I’m sure he’d love to…” Lily trailed off Harry running sock footed down the hall to reach the backdoor where James was, leaving the other bags with Sirius and Remus. “What’s all this?”

“Bit of shopping.”

“He just got plenty of gifts for Christmas, Sirius.” When Sirius explained they usually went back to school shopping with Harry and asked if Lily and James wanted to come, Lily didn’t anticipate them returning with so many bags. Maybe some books. Perhaps some school supplies. Certainly not new seeking gloves and a practice snitch. “When you said back to school shopping, I didn’t think it included buying out Quality Quidditch Supplies.”

“I…didn’t,” Sirius spoke slowly, “I told you we went shopping, Lily.”

“What’d you buy him?”

“Some fun Quidditch things…I don’t know, a new pair of shoes, a new bag for his books? What’s it matter?”

“Did he need new shoes? We could have bought him some.”

“No, he didn’t need--”

“He has plenty, Sirius, you are spoiling him!” Lily exclaimed and she could feel Sirius wave his arm to cast a silencing charm around them.

Sirius’s grey eyes went wide at her statement before he laughed, “Lily, you’re being--”

“He didn’t need a new bag, or new shoes. He’s fifteen, not going to business meetings, and--”

“This is about shoes?”

“He's grown up thinking he can have everything he wants!”

“Because he can,” Sirius told her without hesitation and Lily’s vision clouded with nothing but red.

“And also has grown up with an arrogance to match yours,” she spat, watching the remark land in Sirius’ body language. As if shouting at Sirius, breaking down his proud posture would help her stand a little taller; as if that would bring her son closer to her. Because her son moved like Sirius in the world with a quiet confidence in his upbringing that Lily also never had. Harry had gone to a posh, private muggle school before Hogwarts; Harry arrived every term with shiny new shoes for his robes and a new bag for his books; Lily had returned every year with the same bag that was patched and patched with whatever fabric her father had lying around. Lily would look at Sirius and James with contempt and she hated herself for looking at her son in the same way.

It was easier to hate Sirius.

She would’ve hated Remus too if he was standing there and not recovering from a full moon.

“Have we met the same kid?” Sirius asked, “I’m not going to apologize for making sure Harry knows who he is in this world. Don’t confuse that with arrogance just because it comes with a fucking bag, Lily.”

“It’s not just the bag, Sirius! It’s all the gifts and the parties and the fact that he went to a private school and--”

“You’re being ridiculous. Of all the stupid things…I’m not going to apologize for sending my kid--”

“He’s not your kid! And it seems like you didn’t even bother once to think about what James and I would’ve wanted for him!”

If you were going to take down Goliath, and all you had was a pebble, you wound up as many times as you could.

Lily wound up, he’s not your kid, echoing in the room, ringing in both their ears. She regretted it the second it fell from her mouth but she couldn’t take it back. The letters and words and sounds were lying there on the floor between them. She watched as Sirius dropped the shopping bags on the ground, looking at her with his jaw set. She could see the way he swallowed, and the way grey eyes had become so cold and distant. The way Sirius got when he wanted to protect himself from more hurt, like all the time she had seen Sirius at thirteen and fourteen walking to meet his parents on the platform.

“I feel sorry for you,” Sirius told her evenly, voice low as the silencing charm was broken, “That…you are so angry with me, for making bad decisions, that…you’re not able to see how great of a kid you have.”

--

Remus made himself believe that Sirius’s odd behavior was because he missed Harry. Spending an afternoon with him and then not being able to bring him home was surely the root of Sirius’s distance and the way he had to pause mid-sentence to compose himself, seemingly on the verge of tears. But then Sirius brought a tea tray up to their bedroom where Remus had been recovering most of the day, except to move to take a hot bath, and Sirius’s hands were shaking so badly, it spilled everywhere.

Sirius didn’t spill.

Sirius certainly didn’t cry over spills. Except for one time first year when he spilled an inkpot on accident in Transfiguration and had started shaking so bad, he was asked if he needed the hospital wing. Afraid of what was going to come, though nothing did.

But Sirius stood in their bedroom, sobbing with a tray in hand, liquid spilling onto their carpet just as quickly as tears came out of his husband's eyes. Full moon aches and pains could be cured, this needed more attention, and Remus stood up from bed, levitating the tray out of Sirius’s hands and onto the dresser. Remus’s arms went around Sirius’s body to the best of his ability, not able to take Sirius’s weight as well as he usually did, the two of them landing on the ground together.

One hand at the back of Sirius’s head while he cried into his shoulder, not speaking English when asked for an explanation. Kissing Sirius’s dark curls was all Remus could do until calm settled over. Just incoherent, garbled French and tears that soaked through Remus’s sweatshirt. The one he had put on today because it belonged to Sirius and having him close was the best thing when recovering from a transformation.

“Baby?” asked Remus gently into the side of Sirius’s head, “Did something happen?”

Sirius didn’t cry when he was upset, not if he could help it, though these past six months had Remus questioning everything. Sirius teared up when he was happy--Remus loved seeing those tears when he was so touched that he was rendered speechless, like when Remus and Harry had thrown Sirius a surprise party after completing his legal coursework; or their wedding day when vows had turned into Sirius staring at Remus with tears in his eyes for ten minutes. They said enough. But upset was different. This was different and Remus had an all-consuming feeling he knew exactly what had caused them.

Sirius’s hands fisted into the sweatshirt, but he didn’t lift his head. Remus hadn’t moved his arms. “I thought we did alright. By Harry. I really thought we did alright.”

“Sirius, we did.”

“He-he’s happy?”

“He’s a happy kid, baby. We did alright by him, why--”

“I’ve been feeling so guilty, all the time, that we just didn’t do enough. And I'm not enough for him and I couldn’t do enough ever for him as a kid because…” Sirius choked out, inhaling slowly, “I really thought we took them into consideration, I…we did the best we could, right?”

“Who told you we didn’t?”

.

Sirius didn’t attempt to stop Remus from flooing over to the Potters' home unannounced. Remus said he was going and Sirius nodded, eyes red-rimmed, hands still shaking as he laid in bed. Remus’s bones were aching, he had a tension headache and all the potions he took earlier that day were wearing off. The second round was supposed to happen but his husband crying on the floor took priority.

His kid took priority.

Remus could handle broken bones, he had been managing those since he was seven. Blood didn’t bother him, unflinching when Harry had fallen off his bike as a toddler or had been in the hospital wing from a Quidditch injury. A broken home? That was a different story.

He landed in the sitting room, Lily, James, and Harry all gathered together. James and Harry were in the middle of a game of wizards chess, Lily watching with earnest.

“Moony!” James and Harry greeted together, identical grins on their faces. It would’ve been cute, it would’ve been a mental snapshot to save for later had Remus not been so furious. The water that had been on a simmer was now a full boil, bubbling rapidly, determined to burn everything in sight.

"Are you feeling better?" James asked.

“Harry, go to your room,” Remus said immediately, not bothering with a greeting, “Pack a bag. Don’t leave until I come and get you.”

“What? Why, I--”

“Don’t argue with me, do as I say, please,” Remus wasn’t looking at Harry, his eyes fixated on Lily who was standing, James oblivious from his spot on the floor, but Remus’s tone was enough. The stern tone he used with his class. The one that was quiet and calm and deadly that Harry listened to without hesitation. Remus waited until he heard Harry’s bedroom door shut, casting a silencing charm. “How fucking dare you? Where the fuck do you get off telling Sirius any of that?”

“Remus--”

“No! I don’t give a damn what you actually have to say because you were way out of line. You’ve been dead for fifteen fucking years Lily! Both of you! Do you think either of us expected to have a kid at 21 after barely surviving a fucking war and you somehow find it in you to critique the choices we made? WE, made mind you?” Shouted Remus, “Do you know how many fucking parenting books Sirius read? We have THREE SHELVES IN OUR FUCKING LIBRARY FULL OF THEM. Or how many Healer appointments we made because neither of us were sure what was normal and Harry cried for a month after you died. Did you know that? And when he finally stopped, Sirius was convinced something was wrong? But it just turns out that he was happy again and it took fifteen bloody Healer appointments to connect that!”

“What is going on?” asked James again, his voice now hinting at concern over confusion.

“What’s going on is both of you have acted selfishly this entire fucking time and I am done with it. He was concerned about what you would think and what you would want every step of the way. Me? I didn’t fucking care, I couldn’t have cared less what you thought because you were dead and we were all Harry had. Sirius was the one who put his life on hold so he could stay at home with Harry; Sirius was the one who decided we should buy a big fucking Christmas tree every year and host dinners because that’s something you would’ve done. That’s all he considered for years and--”

“We would’ve never--”

“Get off your fucking high horse, Lily! This is about money? This about Harry having nice things? Or Merlin forbid Harry have thoughts and opinions that are different than yours? But yeah, sure, lets blame it on Sirius! Even though he is the only reason you even have time with Harry right now because I wanted to go to court. And we both know damn well how that would’ve ended. Do you really think the ministry would’ve sided with you? Are you that fucking delusional?”

“What is going on?” James asked for the third time, now standing between Remus and Lily, watching as sparks crackled in the air, trying to diffuse a situation he knew nothing about.

“I’m taking Harry home, is what’s going on. And you can talk to your wife as to why. I’ll let you know if I decide to let him come back. Because I can make decisions without Sirius, and with Sirius and contrary to what you might think.”

“I didn’t mean, that you--”

“I picked the ruddy school Harry went to, out of all the ones we looked at. Because it had an after-school art program. Did you know he likes to draw? And paint?”

“....I…no.”

“I didn’t think so.”

oh my god that sooooo amazing!!!!!!! YOU GO GIRL!!! im so happy for you and thank you for building up that courage and coming out to your mum!! <33

Sooo errr....I have news, and I kinda want to share it because its such a big deal to me and tbh I'm like 99% sure this is a dream ! Zhshdhdh

I finally built up the courage to come out as lesbian to my mother, and, she supports me ! She literally could not have handled it any better than she did and I am so so happy !

It feels so good to just not have to hide it from her anymore, and honestly I just feel so free !

And with all that said, if you're someone who's struggling with any of this stuff, I hope you're okay and that it gets better for you ! My messages are always open if you ever need to talk !

i love love love

I redid this older comic I made for my storytelling class based on this post. Have some cute wlw love in your day.

It’s hard, if I had more free time I could make it so pretty, this is what I could throw together for the assignment.

Help support a queer artist: Ko fi, Redbubble, Teepublic

pink in the night

and you said this one wouldnt be a big ouch-

its just as ouch as the other three and they ouched very bad indeed!!

The Best Worst Thing to Have Ever Happened pt. 4

(hows remus doing? funny you should ask)

Read Parts 1-3 Here

AU in which Jily is alive and Harry chooses to stay with Wolfstar and all is not well.

tw: for alcohol use in this installment.

November 1995

It didn’t take long for Sirius to fall off the edge. It felt that Harry had barely left Remus’s office and Sirius was reaching for a bottle of firewhiskey and that was going to be an answer.

And Remus was helpless. Remus was just as ruined internally, watching his husband fall to pieces; holding his kid while he cried and apologized; dodging post from his best friends, and making excuses to keep them away.

Years of sobriety and evenings spent chatting around a record with cups of tea were scrapped and Remus stepped back into the role of holding Sirius’s hair back as he vomited into the nearest loo like he was 19 and convinced the world was ending.

So what did it matter if he spent his last moments plastered or hungover or somewhere in between? Because the world was ending.

And maybe it had, Remus catching himself looking at photographs on his desk of the three of them--so happy to have one another-- and sitting with the feeling that those days were gone. And the days of pushing Sirius into cold showers had returned when he swore that the last time had been the last time. Perhaps he should be grateful that he had gotten a fourteen-year respite period.

Fourteen-year remission was…pretty good.

What’s anything matter now? Sirius had said, words mushing together, bottle stuck to his hands and a cigarette in the other. Fire, fire, fire. Coughing after every drag because lungs weren’t prepared for the sudden attack of chemicals and heartache.

Sirius had barely been to work. The first two weeks writing saying he was ill, colleagues so concerned they sent flowers. The next one he was in and out as fast as he could be, and if anyone noticed the dark purple circles under his eyes or the knots in his hair or the way Sirius couldn’t even be bothered to clean his desk anymore, they didn’t say anything. Remus thought back to when James and Lily had first died, and they were left holding their child, and on the receiving end of sympathetic looks that made Remus want to scream. Like a muggle-circus freakshow. Come one, come all, everyone gather around and watch the worst thing that could happen, happen. Isn’t it…terrible?

It was terrible. This was worse.

“Sirius!” a voice shouted through the mirror, taken out of the back pocket of Sirius’s jeans as he pitched himself over the loo. Remus had been standing by, listening to wretching for nearly a half-hour.

Remus sighed, picking up the mirror from the bathroom floor, “Hi, Harry.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together, “Where’s Sirius?”

A violent cough from the toilet.

“He’s sick, Harry.”

“Still?”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded slowly, deciding this was the best course of action. Even if Remus was tempted to tell Harry the truth in hopes it would get Sirius out of the stupor he created. “Sorry. Did you need something?”

“I just…wanted to talk to him. He got sick and I haven’t…since I shouted at you both….”

“I know, love.”

“I did really well on my last Transfiguration exam…did you hear?”

Remus smiled, stepping out of the bathroom, though he kept an eye on Sirius’s body curled around the toilet as he did so, “I did. Professor McGonagall was quite impressed. Was the talk of the teacher's quarters.”

“It wasn’t that big of news...”

“I assure you it was, Hermiones got some competition if you keep that up,” Remus told him.

“I wrote James and Lily about it too,” Harry’s face was still smiling, though slightly weaker two names still feeling odd coming from his mouth. Harry had called them Mum and Dad when they were mentioned in photographs. Harry asked Remus to tell him stories about his Mum and Dad; asked about their favorite recipes and if they were smart and did his Dad have a favorite record? But now that they were here, in actuality, Remus watched Harry retreat into himself, wary of the situation entirely, taking cues from himself and Sirius.

Mum and Dad...I just doesn't feel right…I can’t explain it.

“James said…well, I remember you telling me he was good at Transfiguration?”

“He was, probably is still, I just haven’t asked him to transfigure anything recently.”

The gagging stopped from the bathroom.

“Do I…Sirius is okay, right?”

“He’s okay, Harry.”

“Like, I don’t need to be…like he’s not going to have to go to St. Mungos for a while, right? Like for a disease no one knows about? It’s…just a cold and he’s…being stubborn?”

Remus laughed, “He’s being very stubborn and refusing to take potions to help him.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, “HEY! STOP BEING A TWAT!”

“Harry,” Remus said lightly but was relieved hearing a small chuckle from Sirius’s direction. He watched as Sirius managed to pick his head up off the porcelain, looking towards Remus with watering, bloodshot eyes, one of his hands extended in his direction. Remus was tempted to hand Sirius the mirror but thought better of it as another cough emerged from the depths of his husband.

“Did that work? Is he well enough to scold me?”

“How about you call again tomorrow and we’ll both tell you to watch your mouth, hm?”

Harry nodded, “Okay. I love you? I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

Remus hated how a statement had become a question. Harry checking for confirmation from the people who had raised him if the love was still there or if it had vanished the moment paperwork was passed. Remus had been doing his best to ensure Harry didn’t have to go searching and asking for love, but it was hard when Remus was doing it alone. Something about Sirius always being the one to hold things in place, Harry and Remus both moving in the world uncertain and wishing they had the confidence of Sirius. Taking strength and courage when they needed it, only now…

Courage had been flushed down the toilet.

Sirius had nothing left to give or loan out to anyone.

“You will. I love you very much. We love you very much.”

The mirror went dark.

Sirius’s outstretched hand dropped on the tile floor once more.

The wretching had finished.

Remus almost preferred those noises to the sobs that replaced them.

--

“Is Sirius still mad? I thought we were going to try to all…work it out,” Lily asked, eyeing the empty chair next to Remus where Sirius was supposed to be at their dinner table. A Saturday after a Quidditch game that Sirius had missed. The first one ever, and it Remus swore he could hear his heart break alongside Harry’s when green eyes searched the stand for someone who wasn’t going to show.

Remus laughed shortly, “Sirius isn’t mad. Sirius is drunk. Sirius hasn’t been sober in weeks and--”

James sighed, “He always did know how to throw an expert fit... Does this…happen a lot?”

Remus’s expression darkened. Hairs prickling up on his arms. “You do not know how wrong you are.”

You remember seventeen, and eighteen and nineteen. But you weren’t there I didn’t get out of bed for weeks, consumed with grief and cries from an infant that only stopped when Sirius held him. You weren’t there when Sirius was the only thing propping us up.

James slowed his movements, fork hovering mid-air, “I’m…okay, maybe--”

“I could count on one hand the number of times Sirius has gotten drunk since Harry’s been with us. One hand. And one of those was our fucking wedding,” Remus pushed himself away from the table roughly shaking his head, “I’m suddenly not hungry at all.”

“Remus, we didn’t mean anything by it,” Lily tried reaching her hand out to catch Remus’s arm, but she missed. Hitting nothing but air.

“Didn’t you? Ever stop to think about why he’s drinking in the first place?”

--

“I’m sorry,” Sirius mumbled into the side of Remus’s neck for the thousandth time that evening, arms wrapped around Remus’s torso tightly as they sat in an armchair together in Remus’s quarters at Hogwarts. It wasn’t exactly an easy fit, Sirius’s legs thrown over Remus’s lap, and still hanging off the edge; Remus’s arm sandwiched between Sirius’s chest and his own torso, unable to move except for fingertips. Sirius plastered to Remus like moss on the side of the tree and Remus couldn’t find a single complaint, especially with the cool temperatures and the oceans of alcohol and cigarettes and lies Sirius had put between them.

“If you tell me you’re sorry one more time, I’m going to give you detention…” Remus responded, not looking up from his book.

“Could be fun.”

“It would be the opposite of fun. I’d make it so incredibly awful that you’ll never dream of apologizing again. Unless of course, you snuff something up horribly, then I expect nothing less than a very well-crafted apology.”

“And flowers?”

“Mhmm…” Remus hummed and he felt Sirius’s laugh against his skin. A welcome sensation after weeks of trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel; trying to make his own laughter when it just didn’t have the same punch. Remus wasn’t ever good at telling jokes and it was part of the reason he loved Sirius so much.

The best I could make of this situation was firewhiskey, Moons.

“James is sorry too. Lils…”

Remus also loved Sirius for how easy he was able to forgive when it was someone he loved. Remus…didn’t, still holding reservations towards James and Lily for torpedoing a perfectly good family for their own selfish agendas. Time hadn’t been fair to anyone in the equation, James and Lily morphing into versions of themselves Remus didn’t quite recognize. There was once a time where Remus would’ve defended James until his dying breath; would’ve walked through hot coals for Lily, gone to the end of the Earth for both of them, but time had changed that. Remus didn’t know these people any more than Harry did and Remus was only focused on the two people in his life who stayed. Sirius’s heart was far bigger. Remus loved him for that too.

Far more willing to make space even after being burned. Like all the times he continued giving birthday cards to his brother; opening letters from his parent’s hoping this time it would be different. Letting James and Lily back in was no different. Sirius could heal the burns and pretend they were never there in the first place, and Remus….well Remus remembered the date and time of every scar he received.

“James wasn’t the one holding your hair back.”

“He used to be.”

“I know.” Remus turned his head so he could meet Sirius’s lips with his own.

“Keep it together anyway?”

“Keep it together anyway.”

The door to Remus’s office opened, a knock not needed, Harry strolling in dark blue hoodie pulled up over his messy hair.

“Are we going to rob Gringotts later?” Sirius asked, pushing off Remus the slightest bit so he could see Harry more. Harry rolled his eyes but took the hood off his head, jumping into the other armchair.

“It’s cold.”

“In Gringotts?”

Harry rolled his eyes again, but Remus didn’t miss the smile threatening to escape, “Outside, and gave my hat to Cedric. You know, like a proper gentleman.”

Sirius laughed, “And what were you doing outside with him?”

Three for three on the eye-rolls and Remus laughed, putting his book down and waving his arm to start the kettle, same as they did every Sunday afternoon, happy to have three again, instead of just the two.

“You think he’s still allowed for Christmas Eve dinner?” asked Harry

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Remus asked, “Everyones invited.”

“Yeah well…” Harry shrugged, leaning back into the chair and chewing on the edge of his thumbnail.

Remus inhaled deeply, squeezing Sirius’s hand and wiggling under the weight. Something to keep him busy. Remus could make tea and ignore the bubbles in the pit of his stomach. The ones that had been simmering since September and had nearly boiled over that past month. Sirius understood, legs coming off of Remus’s lap to let him up.

“Babe, last I checked, Christmas Eve dinner is still at our house, and also, I had planned on making pudding for Cedric because I know he likes it so well and if he doesn’t come, I’ll have mass leftovers and we can’t have that,” Sirius told him.

“So…just…for the pudding?”

“And because he’s your boyfriend and is always invited. But…pudding comes first.”

Remus had two reasons he was keeping it together.

And he barely was.

Sirius and Remus have a coffee in the sunset, good vibes only for @starstruck4moony thanks for the suggestion! X

DONT. JUST DONT.

DONT play the part in making your child's life shit. home is supposed to feel safe, not a place a child cant wait to run away from as soon as they turn 18!!!!

it really does fuck with our life. so please JUST PLEASE STOP!

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.”