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Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter, James and Lily’s son. Harry, Sirius’s godson. Bambi, the tiny terror.
Some of those titles were more important to Sirius than others.
Everyone (including himself) would expect that upon meeting an older Harry for the first time, Sirius would immediately grasp onto the wisps of his lost friends that still remained. And yes, he did at first. Who could blame him? There he was, James Potter’s clone, his best friend risen from his early grave. But now Sirius had taken the time to get to know the infamous ‘Boy Who Lived’. He was more than just a celebrity, a baby who had unknowingly achieved the impossible; more than Lily’s bright eyes and James’s messy hair.
Harry fought to be his own person aside from all of that, and Sirius fought against his personal inclinations to see him as such.
However he couldn’t help seeing a different likeness in those green eyes, not one based off colour or shape but on the shadows that clouded them and the experiences that made them wary and fearful.
In those eyes, Sirius saw himself at seven. He knew from a young age that one single slip up would result in days of pain. That fighting or running wasn’t worth it. That if he just stayed silent for a few more seconds, maybe they would forget he was there entirely and just stop shouting.
He saw himself at eleven, with the promise of his own magic and, more importantly, an escape from his everlasting cage of childhood. Or alternatively, seen magic as a way to finally fight back and take justice into his own hands. He didn’t think Harry was the type to do that. Sirius only wished he could say the same for himself. But with the dawn of his time at Hogwarts also came a dorm mate who was the epitome of human sunshine and who represented everything that was right in the wizarding world. At least Harry had found that same comfort in his time at school.
And there he was yet again in those ever-warier eyes at thirteen, stepping into his best friend’s house for the first time and being overwhelmed by the warmth and love that greeted him which was unlike anything he had ever experienced.
Even older he was still there. At fifteen, trying to run but feeling like he had nowhere to go. Sirius had been received with open arms at the Potter’s, and he yearned so strongly to do the same for Harry. To give him safety and security, the loving home that he had needed for so many years. Screw Dumbledore’s love spell theory - even if he was correct, Sirius knew he could offer a thousand times more of Lily’s love than those god-forsaken Dursleys.
In summary, Sirius loved Harry more than his heart could take, especially after so many years of it being torn to shreds every day. He saw himself in his eyes, yes, but never let that take away from Harry’s individuality as a person.
Sirius had endured similar struggles, but whatever happened, he was going to make sure Harry’s story had a different ending.