Fic: Found Wanting, Sirius/Harry, NC-17

Title: Found Wanting
Pairing: Sirius/Harry
Rating:NC-17
Word count:~10,000. Er, that counts as a ficlet, right? :D
A/N: This was written for the Gift Ficlet Request Cookie Jar. nimori requested: Sirius/Harry, post OotP. Angst is good but dead!Sirius is not, so an AU or resurrection/retrieval or conspiracy theory is in order. I'd like something with at least a hint of plot, and no Sirius/Remus, please. Implied Sirius/James is all right, so long as Sirius isn't with Harry because of it. I like first time fic. Dark and twisted themes are welcome, but not necessary.

Many thanks to my gorgeous mooncharm and the lovely pitchblackrose for the betas. Sorry for all the whining, ladies. This, um, ficlet got away from me a bit, and gave me all sorts of problems. :D OMG I hope nimori likes it. :D


“Hang on! Give a bloke a chance to make a decision,” Harry Potter said to his teammates as he stood in front of the overflowing rack of Muggle confections. Half of the starting line up of the Ballycastle Bats were standing at the end of the aisle sneering at their famous Seeker.

“Move it, Potter. We’ve not got all day,” grumbled Quinn, the newest addition to the team. He was a bloody good Chaser but Harry couldn’t seem to get around his big mouth, not to mention his even bigger ego.

“Yeah, hero, we’ve gotten what we came for. Let’s go,” Keegan Desmond, the Keeper and captain of the Bats said with a wink. Harry still felt a pull low in his belly every time he looked at the tall and ruggedly handsome Keeper. Well, at least since the party after their defeat of the Montrose Magpies. Harry wished he could remember more of that night. He had certainly felt it the next day, and the day after that.

Harry raised an eyebrow in Keegan’s direction. “It was your idea to stop off at a Muggle supermarket,” he pointed out.

“Aye, but it’s really Sammy’s fault.” The Keeper reached over to ruffle the blonde mop of one of the other Chasers. “If he’d not lost that bet, he wouldn’t be cooking Muggle-style for us tonight,” he said with an impish grin.

“Shove off, you,” Sam said, ducking away from the offending gesture. “If I burn down the bloody flat, it’ll be on your head.”

Harry smiled at their antics. “If you’re in such a big rush, then go pay up. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Well, hurry up, I’m starving,” Quinn said gruffly. The group moved off toward the front of the market and Harry went back to his perusal, shaking his head. He had just finished his first year with the Bats and was finally starting to feel as though he’d found his niche. He and the boys were sharing a flat here in Ireland during the off season and for the first time in a very long while, Harry felt as though he could begin to relax. He even felt somewhat normal some days.

The war was two years past but the wounds that it had left behind had yet to heal completely. He had spent the years during the war angry and exhausted and afraid. The years following were spent trying to pick up the shattered pieces and at the same time dealing with the—he felt—undeserved obeisance from the wizarding world. He’d been only one among many to bring down Voldemort and he certainly didn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart. But no one understood that, not even his closest friends. It was almost enough to make him walk away from the only world he had ever wanted to be a part of. Almost.

The team didn’t treat him like that. They stayed on him to move faster, play rougher, and fight harder. Nothing was ever good enough. It was just what he needed. And if the fans cheered and ogled and put him up on a pedestal…well, he at least partially deserved that attention. He worked his arse off out there.

He chose a bag of licorice sticks and turned to catch up with his mates. He didn’t see the gentleman in front of him until he had walked straight into his chest.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, taking a step back. He felt a blush working its way up his chest and mentally scolded himself for not paying attention. “I wasn’t watching where…” he looked up and the words died on his lips. He felt his breath rush out of him in a whoosh and the bag of sweets fell to the floor from his suddenly lifeless fingers. The only sound that was audible was the blood pounding behind his eardrums as his heart beat violently against his chest. It can’t be.

The man before him looked different than the last time he had seen him, four years prior. The face was fuller, the lines smoothed out now, not all but some, and the hair surrounding it was shorter and more tame and specked with gray. But the eyes were the same bottomless black pools that he remembered and they still had the same haunted look about them as they’d had all those years ago. The man pulled back as if burnt, a look of dawning horror creeping across those strong features and that, more than anything, got him moving. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the man’s arm.

“Sirius,” he choked out in a trembling whisper through the overwhelming lump in his throat. The man tried to jerk away then, but Harry’s reflexes kicked in and he held on tight, refusing to let go. “No!” Harry croaked, fighting back tears. Too much. The memories of that day in the Ministry came flooding back with a clarity that nearly laid him out on the floor.

“SIRIUS! SIRIUS!”

“He can’t come back, Harry. He can’t come back because he’s d—“

“HE—IS—NOT—DEAD! SIRIUS!”

The world swam sickeningly. Harry’s knees buckled and a strong arm came around him to prevent him from crashing to the floor. “You’re not d…dead.” His lips felt numb and he wasn’t sure if the words came out sounding remotely like they were supposed to but he didn’t really care. The man holding him up was looking more frightened than ever but it was a different type of fear than he had seen mere moments before.

“You need to sit down,” the man whispered; his voice was raspy, as if he no longer used it very much. Harry shook his head and leaned on him.

“It’s you. I can’t believe…”

The man stiffened against him. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

Harry blinked. “No,” he pleaded. “Don’t do this.”

He steadied Harry and began to back away slowly. “I’m sorry, but you’re obviously confused.”

“I’m not confused!” Harry said in an overly loud voice. The man backed further away, seemingly ready to bolt. Desperation overtook Harry; he felt the ground swoop below his feet once more and his breath began to come in great gasps. He felt an upsurge of magic inside of him, as if it were trying to explode from the top of his head, the tips of his fingers. “I’m not. It’s you. You even smell the same. Please. Please.” He was begging, pleading, and he didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything except for keeping Sirius right here with him. “I can’t… Don’t leave me. I couldn’t bear it. Please. Don’t leave me again, Sirius. I wanted to die, I prayed for it, it was my fault and you left me. And I screamed and screamed and you wouldn’t come back and Remus said you were gone and I couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it, and I love you so much, loved you so much that…”

“Stop,” the man brought his trembling hands up to cover his face, “Oh, God. Stop.”

Harry took a deep breath and watched, trying to get his emotions under control.

“Oh, Harry, damn it,” Sirius whispered brokenly.

And even though Harry already knew that it was him, even though every instinct he possessed screamed it at him, he felt his heart skip at the sound of his name falling from those lips.

“Sirius,” Harry gasped out, awestruck and elated and frightened and confused.

“Mate?” Keegan was standing at the end of the aisle again, watching the two of them. Harry could see the concern in his eyes. The Keeper looked from Sirius, white-faced and shaking, to Harry who was sure he didn’t look much better and walked closer. “There a problem here?”

“No,” Harry said turning back to Sirius. “Everything’s fine.” He didn’t think he’d ever told a bigger lie.

Keegan didn’t look convinced. “The boys are ready. You coming?”

Harry shook his head, eyes trained on Sirius. “Go on. I’ll catch you up in a bit.” Keegan stood there a moment longer, before Harry said, “Go!” much harsher than he’d intended.

“All right, mate,” Keegan said in a tight voice. Harry didn’t look up but heard him walk away.

“Go with your friends. Forget this happened,” Sirius ground out in a low voice. He would no longer meet Harry’s eyes.

“What? Forget? No way, no fucking way,” Harry’s breathing was accelerating again. “I want some goddamned answers, Sirius.” He was shaking from the effort of containing his magic. It wouldn’t take much for him to bring the building down around them.

“I can’t give them to you,” Sirius said quietly, looking at his feet.

“The hell you can’t!” Harry hissed. One of the bulbs overhead exploded, showering them with glass.

Sirius looked around fearfully and then turned and walked quickly out of the store. Harry followed immediately, not wanting his godfather out of grabbing range in case he decided to Disapparate.

“Where are you going?” Harry demanded, rushing to keep up. They were outside now and Sirius was just a bit ahead of him on the sidewalk.

“Home.”

Harry was taking two steps for every one of Sirius’ just to keep up. “Where’s home?” he panted. “And would you please slow down? Stop making me chase you!”

“Fine,” Sirius muttered, not slowing a bit, “calm down and I’ll consider it.”

Harry stopped in his tracks. “Calm? You want me CALM?” Perhaps screaming at Sirius in broad daylight in the middle of a Muggle street was not the way to handle things.

A strong callused hand gripped his upper arm and pulled him quickly into a deserted alleyway. He was shoved roughly up against the dirty wall of a rundown building and a firm, hot body pressed against him, pushing him further into the brick. Harry’s hands came up reflexively and rested on Sirius’ sides. He felt the muscles underneath his fingertips ripple with tension through the thin material of Sirius’ pullover. Sirius leaned in close until their foreheads were pressed together and his other hand clamped down hard on the nape of Harry’s neck.

“You will calm down.” Sirius’ voice was trembling badly. “I live here, I know people here and I don’t need for you to be blowing the bloody town up with your anger!” He shook Harry while he spoke, as if he were trying to dislodge Harry’s anger with the motion. “I am just as upset as you are, Harry.”

“I doubt it,” Harry managed through the knot in his throat. He’d wanted to sound petulant or even affronted but it came out sounding weak and acquiescent. Being this close to the one person that he had held onto more than any other, the one person that Harry had yearned for, ached for, with every particle of his being, left him feeling off-balance. Sirius was obviously trying very hard to maintain control; the emotions were pouring off of him tangibly. Those black eyes were wild and his breathing ragged and he looked every bit as unstable as his wanted posters six years ago had made him seem. Harry didn’t have it in him to be frightened, because the air being breathed out across his face was hot and the body underneath his hands was warm and alive.

Harry’s vision became blurry and he closed his eyes against the burning wetness. Alive. The fingers bruising his flesh were the only things keeping him grounded, keeping him from flying apart into a million pieces.

“Sirius,” he said softly, however it came out as a dry sob. He couldn’t be bothered to care. Harry pulled him even closer, feeling Sirius’ body mass settle more firmly against him. He squeezed his hands tighter around Sirius’ waist and clung. Another sob escaped Harry and he felt Sirius’ hands gentle, the one on his neck moving to cup the side of his face. Sirius was still shaking as he stroked the soft skin of Harry’s cheek with his thumb. Their faces were so close that Harry almost felt as if he were breathing in the air that Sirius was breathing out. Their noses bumped and Sirius turned his head to rub their cheeks together. It was then that Harry realized he was crying, hot tears streaming down his face, the moisture smearing between their fevered skin. “Oh, Sirius.”

He pressed his face up against Sirius’ and felt his godfather shudder against him. Harry could smell alcohol on his breath and soap on his skin and hair and he opened his mouth against Sirius’ warm jaw as he took in great gulps of air. Harry’s lips were wet now from his tears and he slid his hands up higher along Sirius’ ribs, kneading and clutching, feeling the hard muscle and sinew that still trembled beneath his touch. Every inch of that strong body was pressed against him and Harry moaned into Sirius’ ear.

The rough edges of the wall were cutting into his back and still Harry pulled him closer yet, wanting nothing between them, wanting to feel Sirius everywhere just so he could know that this wasn’t a dream.

“Real. You’re real,” Harry breathed out, trying to convince himself, and Sirius made a choked sound in his throat as he continued to explore as much of his godfather’s torso as he could touch. “I wanted… Oh, how I wanted…” Harry broke off, trying to keep from falling apart in Sirius’ arms. His heart was pounding violently against his ribcage, to the point that he was sure it would come bursting out of his chest. He’d never felt so completely out of control, not even when Sirius had fallen.

“Shhh,” Sirius crooned. Those warm, callused hands slid up to gently rub his face, then down to his neck, the thumbs pressing softly against his throat. They skimmed over his shoulders and down his arms, before making the slow journey back, ending with those beautiful hands cupping the back of his head, fingers twined in his unruly locks. “It’s all right.”

And how long had he yearned to hear those words? How long had he waited, suspended, as the world continued on around him, as a war was fought and won, as his friends grew up and moved on, as everything had seemingly recovered, while he stayed frozen in that one moment when Sirius had gone through the veil. The hole that had opened up inside him felt as if it were filling up with something incomprehensible, something infinite that he couldn’t grasp, couldn’t rein in.

“I can’t breathe,” Harry gasped, except he could. For the first time in forever he felt as if the air around him was entering his lungs properly, oxygen filling up his bloodstream, going directly to his brain. He was dizzy from the rush of it.

Sirius’ hard thigh was pressed snuggly in between his and he had just enough presence of mind to realize that his reaction to the stimulus was not entirely appropriate, but not enough to pull away. At that moment Harry didn’t care if Sirius could feel his arousal, all he cared about was that Sirius not let go. That he never let go.

Sirius shifted against him sending a bolt of pleasure into his groin and he moaned again. This time Sirius pulled back slightly, eyes wide, surprise written all over his features.

“Harry…”

“Please,” he whimpered, hysteria threatening to over take him once more. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Don’t…”

“All right. All right,” Sirius leaned back in, holding him tight, both of them still vibrating with tension and fear and need.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” Harry mumbled against Sirius’ chin. “So fucking sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sirius massaged the back of his neck and head gently, trying to relax the tense muscles.

Harry didn’t know how long they stood like that, holding on to one another as if there were nothing else in the entire world. Sirius finally pulled back again and gazed down at him, tenderly wiping the tears from Harry’s cheeks. They were still unbearably close together and Harry wasn’t sure that he’d be able to stand on his own if Sirius were to let go now.

“This is not the place for this,” Sirius murmured gruffly.

Harry nodded, still refusing to let go. Sirius took a step back and allowed Harry to hang on to his hand.

“Come on,” Sirius pulled him away from the wall and led him back out onto the street.

“Where?” Harry panted, clutching at Sirius’ arm.

“I don’t live very far. Only a few streets over.”

Harry staggered and Sirius reached out a hand to steady him. Their eyes locked for a moment before Sirius shook himself and then continued walking. Harry hastened to keep up and they went on in silence for a few minutes. He felt sluggish, as if he were moving underwater, and he felt the fear that this was all an elaborate dream scraping at the edges of his mind. They walked for a short distance, Harry still having trouble catching his breath, before stopping in frond of a very small, very old house. Sirius walked up to the door and fumbled in his pocket a moment for the key. His hands were shaking so badly that it took two tries before he could unlock the door.

Harry followed him inside. The house was gloomy and cramped; Harry thought that perhaps there were only four or five rooms total in the entire structure. Sirius walked through the tiny living area through a door that led to a kitchen/dinning room. A scrawny looking cat streaked past Harry, hissing, and made straight for Sirius who absently bent to scratch it behind the ears.

Harry sagged against the doorway, watching Sirius as he poured two glasses of cheap scotch without asking. Sirius walked past him, into the living area and sat in an overstuffed armchair beside the grate, leaving the couch open for Harry. He offered a glass over and then lifted his own to his lips with a still shaking hand.

“Sirius,” Harry whispered, his fingers itching to come in contact with his godfather’s body once more. There was too much distance between them and Harry felt the panic rising up inside him again. He didn’t like it. “What the hell is going on?” he asked desperately; he set his drink on the floor, not sure he could be trusted to hold onto it.

Sirius shook his shaggy head and gulped down his drink. “I told you, I don’t have the answers you’re looking for. I don’t remember a lot of it, and what I do…” Sirius closed his eyes tight before pushing himself up harshly. He took two steps and then hurled the empty glass at the grate. Harry flinched as the projectile exploded, sending shards of glass showering out onto the floor across their legs and feet.

Harry stood up, breathless, watching, afraid to move, afraid to speak.

“I want you to go home,” Sirius said at last.

Harry was shaking his head before Sirius even finished speaking. “No. Please, no…”

“I’ll see you after you’ve had time to deal with this,” Sirius broke in softly. “I promise. Right now it’s too much. For both of us.” He stepped up to him; his hands skated down Harry’s chest and smoothed over his shirt. “I’ll see you soon. After.”

Harry caught Sirius’ shaking hands and pressed them tightly to his body. “I want to stay with you. Now. I’m staying with you.”

“Harry,” Sirius whispered tiredly, closing his eyes as if in pain. “Do this for me. Do this one thing; go and rest, give me time to cope with this, and then I’ll see you. I swear.” He leaned in once more and ghosted his lips across Harry’s temple. Harry pressed into the kiss and tilted his face up, feeling those soft lips vibrate against his cheek, his nose, his chin. He hadn’t meant to kiss Sirius back, but their lips met regardless, a soft whisper of flesh on flesh. They both froze at the contact and remained motionless, mouths open slightly, barely touching, as they panted into one another. Harry felt a renewed surge of arousal spike through his body, threatening to overtake him, and he keened.

Sirius immediately sprang apart from him and Harry felt a howl build in his throat. Sirius was pressed against the far wall now, looking like a caged animal.

“I’m not what you think, Harry,” he rasped, eyes widened in fear.

“What do you…?”

“I… the veil…” he shivered at the word, “did not release me without repercussions. And I can’t…”

Harry made as if to walk toward him, wanting nothing more than to fix whatever was wrong, and Sirius immediately became tense, holding his arms up in front of him. “No. You have to go. I… I’ll see you. Later…” Sirius looked at him fearfully. “If you ever cared for me, if you ever… then please do this. Please. I am begging you.”

Harry found that he could do nothing but nod in the face of Sirius’ obvious distress. “When?”

“After you’ve been told more. Talk… talk to Moony, he knows, he can explain.” Sirius was edging away now and it took every bit of control that Harry had not to go after him. “I can’t bear to tell you… if after… you still...” And with that he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

Seconds passed, with no sound in the room except for Harry’s harsh breaths. Oh, God, Sirius was here; he could still smell him, still feel him. Harry tried valiantly to wrap his mind around the day’s events. So many questions and now he was literally holding on to the arm of the sofa to keep himself upright, to keep himself from chasing after Sirius. And Remus knew what had happened…

The thought sent a bolt of rage to the center of Harry’s soul. Remus knew. Sirius had been alive and he fucking knew. Harry Apparated without thinking and at once found himself at Remus’ door. He banged on the wood hard enough to bruise his fist. Seconds into his pummeling of the door, Remus appeared, looking annoyed.

“Harry? What are you--?”

But Harry had already pushed him back into the entryway, slamming the front door shut behind them.

“Harry!” Remus sounded angry at his rudeness. Good.

“You complete bastard,” Harry seethed, advancing on him. “How could you? I thought we were friends. I thought you actually gave a damn about me.”

“For Merlin’s sake Harry, what are you on about?” Remus held his ground, but his hand closed tightly around his wand. Some of his anger seemed to be replaced with confusion.

“Sirius,” Harry hissed; an accusation.

Remus paled. “What?”

“How could you keep me from him? How? You know what losing him did to me. You know better than anyone else. You were there. You watched me go through that.” Harry was trembling with anger, his voice shaking. “I trusted you. When everyone else was lying to me and using me, I trusted you to be honest with me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Remus had closed his eyes and was slumped against the wall. “How did you find out?”

“I just left his house,” Harry said, running an unsteady hand through his untidy hair. “I ran into him, literally, in a bloody Muggle supermarket.”

“Fuck,” Remus breathed.

“Indeed,” Harry growled. “I expect a damn good explanation, Remus, starting with how long you’ve known.”

Remus looked at him shrewdly. “He didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

Harry shook his head. “He barely spoke. For some reason he’s terrified of me finding anything out.” His misery must have been apparent, because Remus stepped forward, reaching. Harry jerked back violently.

“Don’t touch me. You’ve no right to. Not anymore.”

Remus winced. “Where do you want me to start?” he asked warily. He walked into the dinning room and sat down heavily at the table. Harry followed.

“How long?”

“Have I known? Since the day he came out of the veil.”

“When was that?”

Remus eyed him silently for a moment before speaking. “Almost four years ago.”

Harry closed his eyes. All this time…

Remus continued. “We’re not completely sure what happened. He was found by a ministry official a few weeks after he fell through, lying in front of the veil. The best we can come up with is that because he wasn’t dead when he fell through, the veil couldn’t contain him. We’ve never heard of a living person passing through the veil. So the veil either forced him out, or he escaped.”

“He didn’t know what happened?” Harry asked, eyes trained on the table in front of him.

“He didn’t know anything.” Remus said quietly. “He didn’t even know his own name; he didn’t recognize any of us. Not me, not Albus… he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t walk… he just stared at us, with these awful dead eyes.” Remus’ voice became hoarse. “He screamed when anyone touched him.”

Harry felt his stomach give a sickening swoop.

“Albus was able to keep it under wraps, after all, it’s not like Sirius was a danger to anyone at the time. We were fairly certain that he was both blind and deaf for the first few weeks. He was taken to St. Mungo’s, where he was kept isolated. The healers had never seen anything like it. There wasn’t a lot that they could do.”

“Why wasn’t I told immediately?” Harry rasped.

“Come on, Harry. Sirius was completely destroyed. The man that you had known was gone. What do you think that would have done to you? It was worse than believing him dead.”

“You should have let me be the judge of that.”

Remus shrugged. “You were a child. We did what we thought was best.”

“Story of my fucking life,” Harry muttered. He looked at Remus. “He didn’t stay like that.”

“No, he slowly began to regain his faculties, his hearing first, or at least his awareness of his surroundings. He began to turn toward us when we would speak. He started to be able to recognize people. Me first… others later. He gradually improved. He relearned the basics quickly; feeding himself, bathing himself… it didn’t take nearly as long as we thought it would. In many ways he’s very strong. So very strong. But it soon became apparent that some of his abilities would not return so readily, if ever. He didn’t cope well.”

“His memory returned a bit more every day. Not all of it mind you, he still has gaps, but I think the majority came back to him. Who knows, he may even regain it all one day. But I don’t think he’ll ever remember the veil… God help him if he does.”

“Does he remember the Department of Mysteries,” Harry asked miserably.

“No. But it was relayed to him. He doesn’t blame you.”

“He didn’t want to see me!”

“Not because he’s angry.”

“Then why?” Harry demanded.

“Oh, Harry. He’s ashamed. And bitter and tired and not at all the Sirius that you once knew.”

“But he seemed all right. What on earth would he have to be ashamed of?”

Remus looked at him sadly. “Harry… He’s lost his magic,” he said gently. His hands opened on the table in front of him as if offering Harry the bit of information.

Harry couldn’t wrap his mind around the statement for a few minutes. Of course Sirius hadn’t lost his magic. He was a wizard. That didn’t happen. But things slowly began to sink in, to come to light. Sirius had been almost frightened when Harry lost control of his magic. And angry. Very angry. And although he obviously wanted to get away quickly, he never offered to Apparate. In fact, he never once went for his wand. Because he can’t use one any more. Harry’s head throbbed as an image of a scrawny cat rushing past him to get to Sirius entered his mind and on the heels of that came images of Filch and his familiar… Mrs. Figg and hers. I… the veil… did not release me without repercussions.

“He’s a Squib,” Harry whispered, still not quite believing it. Sirius, who never backed down from a fight, who was cocky and sure and reckless. The man who risked everything to get to him, to save him, time and time again. The same man who was at the top of his class at Hogwarts, who learned to become an Animagus with his father and…

“Padfoot,” Harry gasped, tears springing to his eyes. Remus would only shake his head. Padfoot was gone, and the injustice of that stung almost more than anything else. Harry suspected it did for Sirius as well.

“He hasn’t handled it well,” Remus offered.

“Can you blame him?” Harry asked fiercely. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “How long was he in St. Mungos?”

“Over a year. Closer to a year and a half.”

Harry opened his eyes. “And you didn’t tell me then.”

“Albus thought it best to wait until the war was over.”

“Why?”

“You need to ask? Sirius was your weak point. He didn’t want to risk him being used against you again. And there were other reasons…” Remus trailed off, uncertain. He wouldn’t look at Harry. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“I think it does,” Harry challenged. He readied himself for a fight.

Surprisingly, Remus merely sighed. “When he began speaking again… a lot of it was muddled, hard to follow. Some of what he would mutter about had to have been nightmares. But then he began speaking of James and Peter and me, and he started to make sense, started to actually speak of things that had occurred. I was so excited, I thought, now, now he’s going to be ok…” He trailed off once more, this time looking as miserable as Harry felt.

“Then he started talking about you, Harry. Asking about you. The words were… not what one would expect to hear from a man speaking of his teenaged godson. It was as if he thought of you as a… as a lover.” Remus refused to meet his eye.

Harry wasn’t sure what to think of that, but his insides twisted violently. “So you thought you were protecting me?”

He must have sounded accusing because Remus turned toward him and spat, “I know you love him, Harry, but for Merlin’s sake! Of course we were protecting you. You were a child. I would never have placed you in a position to have to hear those things. Never.”

“I’m not a child now. Haven’t been for some time,” Harry said calmly. “So what about after the war? Why wasn’t I told then? After he was cleared, after Voldemort was destroyed. The war’s over. I’m of age. Why not tell me? It’s been two years Remus. What’s the excuse for that?”

Remus put his head in his hands. “The excuse? You’ll have to ask Sirius. It was his decision.”

“What?” Hurt and shocked, Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“He pushed everyone away, not just you. It’s as if he can’t stand to be around anyone associated with his life before. He won’t even see me now. I check up on him occasionally, to see if he’s made any progress, but it’s strained. In any event, Sirius would not allow me to contact you. Not that I completely disagreed with him at the time, but…it was ultimately up to him.”

Harry stood abruptly and stomped from the room, intent on going straight back to Sirius’. Remus’ hand on his shoulder stopped him at the door. He stiffened at the contact and felt Remus release him.

“Harry, you need to be careful. You don’t know what it’s like with him. Go home and calm down first, then go speak with him. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Hurt?” Harry asked, without turning around. “Sirius wouldn’t hurt me.”

“He can’t always control his impulses Harry. He’s much better than he was even six months ago, but you can’t push him. You just can’t.”

“Guess what? You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do any more. And neither does he.” Harry opened the door.

“Please. I only see him once a month. There are things that even I don’t know about him. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Sorry, Remus,” Harry said flatly. “I’m all out of promises.” He ventured out into the gloaming, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. He walked for a very long time.

---

The explosion of noise that greeted him when he opened the door to his flat was like a slap in the face. The boys were yelling and laughing, their voices loud and harsh coming from the small kitchen. Harry closed the door softly behind him, not wanting to draw attention, and walked straight to his room. He stripped to his boxers and collapsed bone-weary on top of the sheets.

He had walked for hours, wandering aimlessly, lost in thought. Nothing made sense to him. How could they have all kept if from him, how could Sirius? He was hurt, and angry, and he didn’t understand any of it. Why hadn’t Remus stayed with Sirius? Why had he left him alone? There was no excuse in Harry’s eyes, no matter how much Sirius had wanted it, no matter how much he had begged for it. He threw his arm across his eyes and sighed. He carefully did not let himself think about the fact that Sirius was apparently attracted to him. His gut tightened at the thought.

The door to his room creaked open and then closed. Harry heard tentative footsteps approach the bed and felt the mattress sag beside him.

“Okay there, mate?”

Keegan’s voice was soft and gravelly; Harry almost let himself smile at the sound of it.

“Never better,” he muttered, not bothering to move his arm from his face.

A warm hand fluttered down atop his bare stomach. “Want to talk about it?”

Harry’s belly burned at the contact. “No.”

The hand moved downward slightly. “Anything I can do?”

And wasn’t that just his luck? Harry had lusted after Keegan for months, only ever getting to be with him for one sloppy, drunken night, which was never spoken of again. And now, when he was confused and tired and angry, now Keegan decided to make a move. He shouldn’t have been surprised.

He lay his hand atop Keegan’s and gently removed it from his body, even as said body was screaming at him to take what was being offered. His mind was too full of Sirius.

“No, Keegan, there’s not. But thanks for the offer.” Harry pulled his arm back and blinked up at his friend, one of the few he had left.

Keegan nodded and gave his hand a brief squeeze. “I’m here if you need me. We all are.”

Harry nodded in return and watched as Keegan left quietly. He lay back and tried to relax but he felt sure that sleep would be elusive no matter what he did.

Just after dawn he gave up trying to sleep. The more his thoughts had run in circles the more livid he had become. Goddamn Albus, goddamn Remus, and goddamn Sirius. He threw the covers back and stood, reaching for his trousers. It was time to pay his godfather a visit.

---

When he got to the house this time, Harry walked in without knocking. Sirius stood up from the sofa, apparently startled at the front door banging open and then slamming shut and reached instinctively for the wand that was no longer there. Thankfully, recognition came almost at once.

“Harry, what…”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Harry paced the floor angrily. “Did you even wonder what happened to me? Where I was? Did you care?”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “Of course! I kept up with you through Moony.”

“And that was enough, was it? That was enough for you?” Harry’s eyes were blazing and he stalked back and forth in front of his godfather.

“No, it wasn’t, but it was what was necessary.”

“Necessary? Necessary for whom?”

“For you! Albus…”

“Albus is dead! Fuck Albus!”

Sirius flinched.

“You didn’t want to see me?”

Sirius nodded. “I’ve been to a few of your matches,” he said quietly. “You were brilliant.”

That stopped him. “You’ve seen me play?” he asked, incredulous.

Sirius merely nodded.

“Well that’s just fucking perfect! You got to come and see me, see that I was healthy and alive and that I was doing something I loved. Did you feel good afterward? Did you feel like you were doing your duty, checking up on me?"

Sirius averted his eyes.

“Wanna know how I felt? When I thought you were dead? When I thought I’d never see you again, never talk to you again, never touch you? I felt like a part of me had died. I felt like my entire world had turned inside out and that I would never even be able to breathe properly again. I wanted to close my eyes and never open them again. I hated everyone: Albus for not telling me the truth, Snape for goading you into leaving, Remus for holding me back from going after you. But I hated myself most of all.”

“Harry, don’t. It wasn’t…”

“THE HELL IT WASN’T! It was my fault Sirius. Mine. And when I got through blaming everyone else that I could possibly think of, I realized that it was my own impetuousness that caused me to lose you.”

“No.”

“Don’t you dare tell me no, you bastard. You don’t know anything about it. You know why? BECAUSE YOU WEREN’T THERE!”

“I didn’t even know who I was! I was a bloody mess!”

“Yes, for a while. But what about when you remembered?”

“The war was…”

“The war has been over for two years. TWO BLOODY YEARS! DON’T TELL ME IT WAS BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING WAR!”

They stared at each other; Sirius pale and shaking; Harry red faced and furious. When Sirius spoke, the words were very quiet and even.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Idiot. “What? Alive?” Harry countered sarcastically.

For the first time since the alley, Harry saw Sirius’ temper flair. “Don’t be stupid, Harry! I’m a bloody Squib,” Sirius said bitterly. “I can’t do anything. I’d have been better off if the fucking veil had chosen to devour me!”

“Do you really think that I care fuck all whether you can do magic or not?” Harry sputtered. “I nearly left the wizarding world after the war. Magic is not what’s important to me you stupid… you complete…” Harry turned away, trembling. “Do you think that I’m that shallow? You are what is important to me. I don’t understand how you can’t see that.”

“It wasn’t about you, you arrogant little shit! I couldn’t deal with it. I wanted you to remember me how I was. If I could have Obliviated you when you laid eyes on me, I would have!”

Harry spun around, angry beyond all reason, in time to see Sirius stride into the kitchen. He followed.

“You could have done that? You could have just walked away from me? After you’d seen me, and talked to me, and held me?” His voice was shaking now, he was close to tears. “LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!” Don’t push him, Remus had said. Well fuck that.

Sirius turned slowly, face stoic.

“Answer me. Now. Will you send me away? Can you really give me up again? Because I can’t. I didn’t sleep last night, I couldn’t eat. I’m standing five feet away from you and it is taking every thing that I have to keep me this far, because all I want to do is touch you again, lay my hands on you, feel your skin, your breath, your heartbeat. It’s killing me to be even this far away. So tell me now, Sirius, if you can just toss me aside as if I didn’t matter at all.”

“You need to leave,” Sirius ground out; his eyes glittering dangerously.

“Not until you give me an answer. Is it the fact that I can do magic?” Harry pulled out his wand. “I’ll break it right now if you want.” Sirius’ eyes grew wide. “No? Or perhaps you’d like to do it?” He extended the wand, handle first, toward his godfather. “Go ahead, take it. Break it into a million pieces if you like.”

“Stop it.”

“I don’t give a damn about it and it would make you feel better. After all I am the one who did this to you.”

“Stop,” Sirius growled.

“Is that what this is about? Do you hate me for it? Remus said you don’t, but why else would you refuse to see me? Why else would you stay away from me unless you were trying to hurt me?”

“Goddamnit, Harry, I never blamed you. Now fucking stop.” Sirius was gripping the table behind him tightly; his knuckles were white.

Harry threw down his wand, it clattered across the floor and rolled under the sink. “No? Then what is it? Why would you do this? Make me understand.”

“Get out.”

Harry ignored him, ignored the look of anguish that crossed his face, ignored the rage. “Is it because you wanted me?” he asked quietly.

Sirius jerked back as if struck. Bingo.

“Because I was young, and I am your godson. And you wanted me didn’t you? You still do. You want to fuck me. You want…”

Sirius moved quickly and Harry didn’t even have time to register before the back of Sirius’ hand struck him solidly across the face, knocking him to the ground. His vision blurred from the harsh blow and Harry felt a trickle of warmth run slowly down the side of his face. He wasn’t sure if it was tears or blood.

He felt Sirius grab his collar and haul him up violently. One strong hand twisted into his hair and jerked hard, pulling his head back so that he was staring up into his godfather’s face. Anger, hatred, fear… they were all there, looking back at him.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he slurred, uncaring of the consequences. And how sick was it that he was not afraid at all, that if anything he was elated and excited that those hands were on him again, even if they were hurting him.

Sirius clutched his hair tighter, to the point of almost ripping it out of his scalp. “Damn you,” he rasped. And Harry wanted to say that he already was but the next moment Sirius’ mouth was pressed against his, painful, bruising, and in the same breath he was saved.

Lips and tongue and teeth tore at him, trying to eat him alive. The hands on him were rough and Harry heard the fabric of his shirt tear, felt it ripped from his body. A strong, callused hand roved over his torso, clawing and grasping, the other still in his hair, keeping him anchored as Sirius completely dominated him. And Harry submitted. It was perhaps the first important decision he had ever made that wasn’t controlled by someone else and it felt so good.

They crashed to the floor, knocking a chair over in their descent. Sirius’ weight pinned him and Harry moaned as Sirius tore at his mouth. He could taste blood, and whiskey, and Sirius was panting and groaning as if he had wanted Harry his entire life. Sirius wrenched Harry’s trousers open, one handed, and jerked them down roughly. He pulled Harry’s head back, exposing his throat, and bit him hard, breaking the skin. More bites followed, down his chest, down his belly. Before Harry was even aware it was happening, Sirius had taken his cock into his mouth and sucked him in to the root.

Harry screamed.

Sirius sucked him deep, deeper, into his throat. Harry opened his eyes and stared blindly up at the bottom of the dirty table as his godfather devoured him. Tight, wet, living, heat surrounded him, working him feverishly and Harry was unable to do anything but lie there and take it.

He clawed at Sirius’ shoulder, feeling skin collect under his nails, his other hand digging into the worn wood of the table leg. Sirius sucked harder, swallowing around him, and Harry could feel his godfather’s throat contracting around his aching length. It was hot and bitter and corrupt and ugly and perfect, and Harry couldn’t think, couldn’t reason, could only feel.

Another swallow and Harry exploded in a rush of white and stars and heat and life. Wave after wave of ecstasy poured out of him, into Sirius, and he thought that perhaps this was what it was like to die.

Tears poured from the corners of his eyes as his body shuddered and convulsed. His vision grayed at the edges from the intensity. Harry lay still, gulping in air, trying to process everything and Sirius’ head lay heavily on his belly; damp tendrils of hair clinging to his skin. Harry lifted his hand and gently ran it over the contours of Sirius’ face, all the while still staring up at the table. Sirius’ eyes were closed under his fingertips and his breathing was ragged and harsh.

“Sirius,” he whispered hoarsely.

Harry felt a choked sob resonating from Sirius’ chest and he tugged on his shirt, wanting him closer.

“Can I... let me...”

Sirius shook his head against Harry’s still trembling stomach. “I came.”

He came untouched, just from the taste of me.

Harry groaned.

Sirius shifted himself up sluggishly to peer down at Harry with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I hurt you,” Sirius said in a hollow voice.

Harry blinked at him; he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Sirius’ face seemed to crumble. “Oh, God.” He scooted back quickly and sat up, his back to Harry, his face buried in his hands. Harry sat up as well, barely avoiding cuffing his head on the edge of the table.

“Sirius… don’t.” He put a tentative hand on his godfather’s shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief when the touch was accepted.

“What have I done,” Sirius muttered, sounding broken.

“Stop it.” Harry half slid, half crawled around to face him, uncaring that he was naked, his pants twisted around his ankles. “Look at me.”

Sirius allowed his hands to be lowered but he kept his eyes averted.

“I hurt you,” he repeated, as if unable to believe the statement.

And yes, he had, just not in the way that Harry was sure he meant.

“You loved me,” Harry replied, matter-of-factly.

Sirius looked at him then. “You can’t believe that,” he said, incredulously.

“Didn’t you?” Harry asked. “Haven’t you always? Because I do… love you… so very much.” He pushed back a stray lock of Sirius’ damp hair. “And today… I pushed and pushed, knowing what would happen. At least some part of me hoping…” Harry lowered his hand. “I wanted it. You. Just… God… don’t shut me out now, Sirius. Please.”

“You’re bleeding,” Sirius whispered, reaching up to touch the cut on the side of Harry’s face. He looked around behind Harry. “Where’s your wand? You need to take care of this.”

Harry brought his hand up to cover the large callused one on his face. “No. I want you to take care of it. The way you would take care of it for yourself.”

“But…”

“No. I need for you to do it. No magic,” Harry said gravely.

Sirius swallowed. “All right,” he said hesitantly. He stood slowly and helped Harry to his feet, waiting patiently while Harry pulled his trousers back up. Sirius led the way to the tiny lavatory and Harry seated himself on the edge of the tub. Sirius rifled through the medicine chest, finally pulling out a bottle of peroxide. He knelt in front of Harry and deliberately cleaned the wound with trembling fingers.

“’M sorry,” he muttered, never taking his eye’s from Harry’s.

Harry smiled at him. “It’s all right,” he whispered.

Sirius unwrapped an Elastoplast and placed it gently over the cut. His fingers strayed to Harry’s cheeks, his nose, his lips, before falling back to his sides. He bowed his head, still kneeling, and sighed.

“What now?”

Harry reached out and touched his chin, tilting his face up. “Now… well I suppose we’ll have to make this up as we go along, won’t we?”

He stood, tugging Sirius up along with him. They stared at each other, Harry determined, Sirius hesitant. Harry ran his hands up Sirius’ torso, feeling the hard muscle move beneath his touch. Sirius stood silent, watchful, as Harry undressed him. Harry swallowed back a sob at the scars running across Sirius’ body, but slid his fingertips lovingly over each one that he exposed. They didn’t speak as Harry undressed himself and started the shower. He guided Sirius under the warm spray and bathed him, loving the way his wet skin felt beneath his hands. Harry washed them both thoroughly, taking his time. Sirius stood docile, allowing the attention that Harry gave him, his eyes following every movement of Harry’s hands.

They dried off in silence and Sirius didn’t protest when Harry took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom. Harry pulled his godfather down onto the narrow bed, spooning in close beside him, and pulled the sheets up over them both.

“Harry,” Sirius began.

“Hush,” Harry said against his throat. “Let’s just sleep for now. We’ll talk about it after we’ve both rested.”

Sirius sighed and Harry felt him nod. Harry didn’t expect for sleep to come so easily.

---

Harry awoke to warm hands on his body, sliding over his skin, and a hard thigh wedged in between his own. The sleep warm sheets were twisted around him and he stretched lazily, breathing in deeply, taking in Sirius’ scent. Yesterday’s events came flooding back to him and Harry couldn’t keep himself from smiling. He opened his eyes, blinking to clear his vision.

“Sleep well?” Sirius’ voice was husky from sleep. He was facing Harry, his head propped on the pillow, dark hair spilling over the bedding.

“Yes. You?”

Sirius nodded and sucked in a sharp breath as Harry pressed against him firmly, bringing his burgeoning erection in full contact with Sirius’ thigh.

“Good,” Harry whispered.

Sirius groaned as Harry twined a hand into hair and pulled him closer.

“You can’t expect me to tell you no,” Sirius muttered, leaning down to brush across Harry’s lips.

“I don’t,” Harry said and parted his lips, silently giving himself over to his godfather’s mouth.

This kiss was nothing like the violent first kiss that they had shared. It was smooth, and soft, and gentle. It was an exploration, a question, a declaration. It was perfect. Their lips melded together again and again, sliding softly across one another. Tongues twined together in a slow dance, making Harry gasp and moan. Harry rolled to his back, pulling Sirius atop him, and groaned at the feel of Sirius’ warm flesh pushing him down into the mattress.

“I want you,” Sirius muttered against his lips.

“Then have me.”

Sirius pulled back to look down at him. “Harry…”

“In me, Sirius. Now.”

Sirius shivered at the words, then shifted, reaching over to the nightstand and retrieving a bottle of lotion. Harry smiled up at him and pried the bottle from his grasp.

“Let me,” he whispered. He poured the lotion into his hands and reached down between their bodies to wrap his slickened fingers around Sirius’ heated flesh. Sirius shuddered as he pumped his hands up and down the length of his cock and Harry felt him pulse against his palms. He kept his eyes open, trained on the dark gaze above him, and he smiled again as he spread his legs wide and guided Sirius to his opening. Harry sighed as he felt the blunt tip of Sirius’ cock nudge up against him, pressing softly.

“Oh, yes,” he moaned, watching Sirius’ face as he slowly eased himself inside. Harry felt himself being stretched open tenderly; Sirius was going so fucking slow. His thrusts were shallow and languid and if felt like forever before Harry felt his balls bumping up against the curve of his arse.

“Harry. Oh, God, Harry,” Sirius moaned. Harry thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

Harry shifted a bit beneath him and pulled his legs in, hooking them around the backs of Sirius’ thighs. Sirius was shaking, the muscles in his legs trembling under Harry’s calves. Closer, closer… until they were touching everywhere. Eyes open, breathing hitched, Harry felt as if he were caught in that black gaze and as Sirius began to move, he never once took his eyes from Harry’s.

They rocked together gently for a very long time, until Harry was shaking, moaning with the intensity of it. Sirius’ girth slid in and out of him so softly that he wanted to cry. His orgasm built slowly and he hovered on the edge, unable to fall, for an eternity.

“I’ve missed you so,” Harry whispered, pushing his hips up softly on Sirius’ downward thrusts.

“Harry…” Sirius hissed, and pressed in as deep as he could go. Harry felt Sirius’ cock jerk and spasm inside of him, followed by heat and wetness. Sirius continued to thrust, moaning his name, and Harry fell hard, his cock untouched. Pleasure rushed over him and he writhed up against Sirius, spreading his legs involuntarily, as his own cock sputtered and dripped copious amounts of spunk across his belly, his chest, and he was babbling and moaning and never wanting it to end…

Sirius kissed him after he finished, long and slow, as he withdrew from Harry’s body. Sirius lay beside him and pulled him close, nuzzling his hair.

“I’m staying,” Harry whispered against his godfather’s chest.

Sirius clutched him tight. “I’m not entirely well, Harry. What if I hurt you again, what if I…?”

“I don’t care,” muttered Harry, shaking his head, opening his mouth to taste the sweaty skin beneath his lips. "I’m staying. Everything else will work itself out. I promise.”

Sirius relaxed slightly and Harry burrowed closer. He smiled against Sirius’ skin and allowed sleep to take him once more.

---

“How is he?”

Harry started and looked up from the book he was reading. He was sitting on the front steps, trying to pass the time as he waited for Sirius to come home. The book served as a good distraction from the constant nagging fear that perhaps this would be the day Sirius did not return. He didn’t like to think about it. He marked his page and looked up at Remus Lupin, who was standing just a few feet away.

“All right,” he said simply. It wasn’t completely true, but he didn’t feel he owed Remus the truth anymore. He wondered if he would always feel this way. He really missed Remus, he just didn’t think he could trust him anymore. Right now Sirius was the only person he had the energy to forgive, and even then he couldn’t bring himself to trust him, or else he wouldn’t be perched on the front stoop waiting for him, wondering if this morning would be the last time he saw him.

Remus nodded and looked at his feet. “And how are you?”

Harry shrugged and picked at his trainers. “I’m fine.” He heard Remus sigh.

“Is Sirius still having problems with…?”

“He has problems with a lot of things. Sometimes he can’t remember a word or a phrase. Sometimes he has to think before he can string together a sentence. Sometimes he forgets to eat, or whether or not he’s supposed to go to work. Some days are worse than others.” He looked up, challengingly. “But he’s all right. And so am I.”

And they were. Sirius did have problems, more than Harry had been prepared for, but he’d never once thought of leaving. He just did what Sirius needed, whether that was reminding him of something, or finding something for him, or even just holding him after a nightmare. And he did it gladly.

“What about Quidditch?”

Harry looked away. “I don’t know yet. He says I have to keep at it. But if I think it’s causing problems…”

“That’s a lot to give up,” Remus said gently.

“He’s given up more for me!” Harry said angrily.

Remus blinked at him. “You don’t owe him anything, Harry.”

Harry ached to punch him. “I know that,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m here because I want to be. In fact, I’ve never wanted anything more than to be here with him.” He didn’t expect Remus to understand. After all, he sure hadn’t hung around. It wasn’t about owing him. It was about loving him enough to stay. And he did.

“I didn’t mean…”

“Just drop it, all right? I know what you meant.” Harry felt a twinge of guilt at being so brusque with Remus, but quickly tamped it down. He felt quite justified in his anger, even if it bothered him to see the pain in Remus’ eyes.

“All right.” Remus sighed again and ran a hand through his graying hair. “Do you mind if I wait here with you? I’d like to see him.”

“What for?”

“Damn it, Harry. I never stopped caring for him. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. You don’t know how it was with him, after, how hard it was.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” Harry said bitterly.

“I don’t want to fight with you. But I refuse to stop checking in on him just because you’re angry with me.”

Harry closed his eyes. “Fine. He should be home in a few minutes.”

He half expected Remus to ask about the nature of their relationship, but he didn’t. He just lowered himself beside Harry and stared at his hands as they waited silently. They would be fine, Harry knew. As long as Sirius didn’t run away again, they’d be just fine. He was getting better; after only a month Harry could see improvements in Sirius’ coordination, in his concentration. Perhaps one day, he would see a sign that his magic was returning. Perhaps…

Harry caught sight of him first, coming around the corner, and felt his heart leap up into his throat. Yes, everything would be all right now. Sirius was home.