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Sirius couldn’t sleep for anything. This wasn’t anything new as Azkaban had created all sorts of nightmares for him while on the run, but this time, it wasn’t those nightmares plaguing him. It was the image of Harry dead on the floor from the boggart. It was hearing assurances from Remus about how the Order would take care of Ron and Ginny when they hadn’t (still weren’t) taking care of Harry. It was the thought of failing Harry, the same way he’d failed James.
He’d been so worried about Harry all of last year, and seeing the boggart had brought to life his very real fear that he might see Harry dead on the floor the way he’d seen James. For all he knew, Harry could die any minute – no, he’s safe here, he reminds himself, but then again this place did have deadly objects laying around, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check on him, again, like he’d done every night that Harry had been at Grimmauld Place as he wasn’t sleeping anyway.
He gets up and quickly and silently makes his way to Harry and Ron’s room, still upset that he couldn’t give Harry his own room like he'd been hoping to do. He wanted Harry to be at home here and have his own room to decorate, but he’d been vetoed (something about how he’d rather share with Ron – never mind that they never asked Harry, himself). He peers in and sees Harry but he's clearly not sleeping either, “Sirius?” he asks, quietly.
Sirius nods, makes a shhhing gesture and yanks his head down the stairs indicating Harry should come downstairs with him. If he’s already up there’s no reason he can’t spend a little bit of time with him. They’ve gotten precious little time together because someone is always around or interrupting. Harry nods at him and they quickly go to the kitchen where Sirius makes hot chocolate.
“So, what are you doing up?” Sirius asks as he sits and offers Harry his cup. “I thought you’d be sleeping.”
“What are you doing up?” Harry retorts, clearly avoiding the question.
“I have nightmares and I wanted to check on you while I could with you going to Hogwarts tomorrow. I’ve actually done it most nights that you’ve been here, tonight’s the first time you’ve been awake.”
“So you can only stand to be around me when I’m sleeping?” Harry asks, clearly upset about Sirius’ broodiness that has him hiding away with Buckbeak often (particularly since his plan to take Harry away if he were to be expelled had failed).
Sirius sighs, “I don’t want to burden you with my problems so I try to hide whenever I’m struggling to deal with things. I wasn’t avoiding you. I want nothing more than to spend every waking minute with you but I… this house has been bad for me. I’ve had more bad days than good days here than last year. It's just rough and I wanted to protect you from that.”
“Oh,” Harry says, quietly. “I thought maybe… but it’s nothing… is someone helping you? The Order?”
Sirius shakes his head, “No, but I don’t expect them to, they don’t really like me.” He sees the upset look on Harry’s face and says, “It’s fine, I’m used to it. Now, I want to talk about you. Why are you up?”
Harry shrugs, “I get nightmares too. I’ve always had some bad ones that I now know were real, but they’ve gotten worse because of some of the stuff I’ve dealt with at Hogwarts.”
“Do you want to talk about them?”
“No,” Harry states shortly, swirling his drink.
“I think you should, but I won’t make you.”
Sirius waits patiently. He knows his kid, he’s shared before, and Sirius is sure he’ll share again if he just waits.
After several minutes, Harry sighs, “I guess since you already know… I see the graveyard…. Cedric dying… Pettigrew chopping off his hand … Voldemort coming back… the death eaters… mum and dad… I just keep seeing it over and over again and it’s just… I feel so guilty.”
Sirius moves so that he can comfort Harry, an arm around his shoulders, a hand in his hair, ruffling and running his hand through it. “Survivor’s guilt is a hard thing to live with but you know he wasn’t angry, he didn’t blame you and you shouldn’t either.”
“Survivor’s guilt?”
“Yeah, like thinking it’s your fault because you told him to take the cup with you or something of that nature, when it isn’t your fault at all. It was a great thing that you both did, he finally realized how unfair things were on you and he wanted to share the victory, it wasn’t your fault that Pettigrew killed him…”
“He wouldn’t have been able to do that if I hadn’t saved his life – this whole thing is my fault! I saved him and he brought back Voldemort!”
“No, it’s not your fault! You did the right thing! You were right to that we shouldn’t have become killers for the likes of him. Okay? And if we had than there would have been no chance for my freedom or using me to make the Dursleys behave. You did the right thing – you can’t blame yourself for his choices!”
“Then why do you?”
“What?” Sirius asks confused.
“Why do you blame yourself for his decision to rat out mum and dad and to kill all of those muggles?”
Sirius sits back, uncertainly. He hadn’t expected Harry to compare the two situations. “Because I… I should’ve known… I should’ve done it myself…”
“Then you’d be dead, too, and I wouldn’t get to go to Hogsmeade, and I wouldn’t have survived the last few summers and I – I would have had no support last year… not even from those that claim to love me like a son…”
He has a point, Sirius knows, but still…
“You deserve better than this, you know,” Harry continues. “You’ve done so much more for me than anyone else in this house and I should have told them that the first night I was here.”
“You don’t have to fight my battles for me, kid, but I appreciate the sentiment. You’re my kid, and it is nice to know that you, at least, know what you mean to me.”
“Your kid?” Harry asks, looking up hopefully. “I’ve never really been someone’s kid before.”
“You’ve always been my kid,” Sirius answers trying to grin instead of frowning at the idea that Harry’s never had someone love him as much as Sirius or a parent does. “Now you just know it.”
Harry grins, “Well, in that case, you’re my… Pads.”
“Pads?” Sirius questions.
Harry shrugs, “You’re so much more than a godfather, but calling you dad doesn’t feel… I don’t know, right… but calling you my Sirius sounds weird, so… my Pads…” he trails off and can clearly see Sirius’ conflicting emotions about Harry basically telling him that he’s like a parent to him (which is what a godfather is in lee of a father), but had he earned that respect? Sure, he sees Harry as his kid, but to have Harry feel that way? He’s frankly, honored, but feels like he sucks as a parent. Before he can respond, Harry mutters, “It’s stupid, I’ll just call you Sirius… I’m sorry I –”
Sirius cuts him off with a fierce hug, “You can call me anything you want, kid. It means so much to me that you feel that way when I have failed you so much but I… I am completely okay with it.”
“Really?” Harry asks, “Because it’d be so nice to have what I’ve dreamed of.”
“Yeah, Kid. I’m totally okay with it.”
Harry smiles and then frowns, “It sucks that this is our last night together and we can’t even write.”
Sirius smiles, “Actually, I have a way for us to talk but you’ll have to keep it a secret. If you tell anyone it might get back to Molly or Dumbledore and the Order and they’ll take it away because they think I’m a bad influence, but…” he summons the mirrors and presents James’ mirror to Harry.
“A mirror?”
“Just watch.” He turns to his own mirror, “Harry.”
Harry’s looking at him confused when a second later, he sees Sirius’ face in his mirror. “Sirius?”
“That’s right, kid, you see James and I used to use these when we were in separate detentions. They’ll work perfectly for our use.”
Harry’s grinning, “That’s amazing! I wish I had them last year but this great too!”
Sirius grins, too. “You can call me up any time, Harry. I’ll be here to talk.”
“You’re the best!”
“Well, I try. Now it’s time for bed. Tomorrow will be crazy enough as it is, and you need sleep.”
“I’ll sleep a lot better knowing that I can call you when tomorrow sucks.”
Sirius wants to retort that it won’t suck, but he knows it probably will given recent events. “Well, I’ll be here waiting to hear all about it.”
The utter joy on Harry’s face couldn’t be missed as he launches himself into Sirius’ arms, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted someone to just care about my day enough to be waiting to hear for it.”
Sirius’ heart breaks as he hears that, “I will always want you to tell me about your day – I loved getting your letters, but this be better. I love you, kid.”
There’s silence following his words and he can’t see Harry’s face, but he can tell by the tightening of his arms and the wetness on his neck that Harry’s never been told ‘I love you’ before that he could remember. He waits, comforting him, letting him come to terms with what Sirius feels for him.
Finally, after several minutes, Harry leans back, his eyes puffy, but earnest, “I love you, too, Pads.”
Sirius smiles, and not wanting to make a make a big deal about it. “Good, now, it’s time for bed, and just remember, I’ll be waiting to talk to you to tomorrow and listen to all of your Hogwarts woes.”
“Thanks, Pads. Good night.”
“Good night, kid.”
The End