Work Text:
Cleaning Grimmauld place seemed about all he was good for these days, and Sirius, moody and bitter, thought he’d rather be on the run living off rats again. Irritably, he swiped at a cobweb with his wand. It disintegrated.
"Sirius?" He jumped and turned, quickly, to find Ron standing in the doorway. "I—uh, do you need any help? Only, Hermione and Ginny are trying to give Crookshanks a bath and—,"
"Sure," Sirius said, trying to smile at him. "Sure come in. It’s mostly just dusty in here. I don’t think we ever used this room for much anyway, just important dinners, to impress people." He scowled at the dining room table under a thick layer of dust. "But be careful, you never know what animals may have moved in."
Ron frowned, taking in the gloomy room. “It must have been awful, growing up here.”
"Yeah," Sirius said, and left it at that.
They worked for a little while, before Sirius, getting the feeling that Ron wanted to talk, ventured, “Is everything alright?”
Ron looked up, startled. Then, he sighed. “Harry’s mad at us, me and Hermione, I mean. D’ya think Dumbledore will let him come soon?”
"I hope so," Sirius said, and he realized for the first time how terribly he missed his godson and how frustrated he was with Dumbledore and his instructions. "Did he say anything to you in his letters? Harry, I mean."
"Just wanted information," Ron said. "And, well," he showed Sirius hands pecked by an owl. "I don’t get it. After the dementors—is he even safe there?"
Sirius, who felt the same way as Ron, didn’t have much of an answer beyond “We’re having a meeting tonight; I’m pushing for a rescue for the Muggles.”
Ron nodded. “Good.” He was quiet for a minute, before saying, “It’s going to get very hard, now, isn’t it?”
Sirius nodded grimly, and Ron suddenly looked so anxious that Sirius remembered he was only 15.
"I don’t think I’m ready," Ron said, face pale beneath his freckles. "He needs Hermione, not me. I’m not very good at anything, and well, after last year—he told you didn’t he? About how I didn’t believe him ‘cause I was—"
He looked so miserable that Sirius put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry about that. We all screw up. Yes, even Hermione,” he added with a smile.
"But-" Ron protested, and Sirius just shook his head.
"All I know is, Harry couldn’t ask for a better friend. Now c’mon, let’s go get some lunch."