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When Harry gets off the train and isn't bursting with happiness at seeing them again, Sirius tries not to take it personally. Harry is a teenager now, and it makes sense if he's more sad to leave his friends behind-- nothing compares to staying in the same dormitory as the best mates, he knows-- than happy to see his parents again.
He shares a look with James as they leave the station, and they agree that he'll shake it off soon enough.
Except he doesn't. His mood gets worse and worse. James practically drags him to the dinner table that night, and Harry only pokes at his food with a clenched jaw instead of eating it.
"Haz?" Sirius ventures.
Harry looks up from his plate, meeting his eyes dully.
"Is everything okay?"
"Fine."
"Are you sure?" James asks, unconvinced.
"Yes."
"It's just, you're not eating. I thought you liked Shepherd's pie," Sirius says. He would be worried that it didn't turn out except his piece is fine-- rather tasty, actually, since he has plenty of experience making it.
"I don't have an appetite is all."
"Did you eat a lot on the train?"
Harry's looks askance and gives a small shrug. He's lying, but as much as Sirius wants to get to the bottom of the matter, cornering Harry isn't going to help anything.
"It's alright. I'll set some aside so you can have it before you go to bed tonight," Sirius says, trying his best to smile like he doesn't suspect anything amiss.
"No, it's... it's fine," Harry tries. "I'll just eat a bit now."
While James and Sirius finish eating, Harry manages all of two bites.
"Alright Harry, that's enough," James says, pushing his empty plate away from himself so he can put his folded arms on the table. "What's wrong?"
Harry's expression turns pained. "Do I eat too much?"
"No, not at all," Sirius says, as James shakes his head. He isn't sure there is such a thing as eating too much, unless it makes one sick-- and Harry has never eaten so much that he puked. "Why would you think that?"
"Some people at school said..." Harry trails off, but it's not from a lack of words, it's from shame. His cheeks colour a self-conscious red.
"What did they say?" James asks sharply.
"I dunno," Harry mumbles. It's an obvious lie, and he continues on, almost as if he didn't say it at all. "That I'm... pigging out. That I'd lose weight if I ate less."
Sirius feels like his stomach drops to the floor.
"Who said that to you?" James asks.
Harry's shoulder shrink in on himself like he wants to disappear, but he answers the question without further prodding. "Everyone says it. Even the professors."
Sirius forces his voice to come out calmly. The last thing he wants is to sound angry and make Harry regret telling them. "Which professors?"
"Pa, I don't want to make a big deal out of it."
Both of his parents have to hold back the response that it is a big deal, because that's not going to help Harry feel better. A shared look between the two of them confirms that the professors will be hearing about it, but they're not sure how to handle the conversation right in front of them. Sirius tilts one corner of his mouth down-- he can't think of anything to say.
James clears his throat uncomfortably and looks back to Harry. Harry's gaze is trained on his barely touched meal, missing the quick interaction his fathers had. "You should be happy," James says, and it feels so simple and James to Sirius that he can't help but smile. "We're here to help you be happy. It's not a big deal to talk to your professors about something they shouldn't be doing or letting happen in the first place. One of the Defense professors in our day had it out for Pa, and your grandparents stepped in for him."
"I asked them not to, and I was embarrassed about it at the time, but it helped," Sirius adds softly. His heart aches looking at the warring emotions on their child's face. He recognises it from his own tumultuous teenage years; he hoped that Harry would never have to deal with anything that made him feel this way, but maybe growing up would always include something horrible.
Harry shifts uncomfortably. Then, so quietly they can barely hear, he lists the names of two professors. "Nobody says anything around the other professors, but they're..."
"We'll take care of it," James promises.
Sirius can't let his son sit there and look so sad, not when he can do something about it. He gets out of his seat and rounds the table to hug Harry from behind.
"Pa," Harry says, embarrassed, but in the usual way he is with his parents' antics, rather than personal shame.
"You're perfect, pup, you know that?"
"I'm not a pup anymore," Harry argues.
"You'll always be my pup."
"I'm glad to see you didn't deny the perfect part," James says, looking at them with a smile growing on his face.
Sirius keeps on hugging him because Harry isn't trying to get rid of him.
James's eyes flicker to Harry's plate once more. "Haz, Lily was heavy too." They don't talk about Lily much. She hadn't wanted to be involved after he was born, but then she died shortly after. It feels worse to not mention her role in Harry's existence, so they try to walk the line. Harry shares her genetics, and right now, that is worth talking about. "She was healthy, just like you are. There's nothing wrong with being fat."
Sirius loosens his arms and stands up enough to press a kiss to the top of Harry's head. He didn't want to let go, but he gets the feeling that he should anyways. He gives him a parting squeeze and rounds the table to give James a hug because his husband, at least, will always hug him back. With James's hand coming up to touch his arm, he feels grounded enough to offer, "Do you want me to find you something else to eat?"
"No, this- this is fine. Thanks." Harry takes a small bite, and they go from there.
In private-- and with a silencing spell to ensure Harry can't overhear-- they rage. They both need to rant and curse anyone who would treat Harry this way, and when it's just the two of them, they can do it.
It's not only the two professors, it's the Gryffindor prefects too. Harry made a point of pretending like it wasn't that big of a deal the whole time, even though it was obvious he was hurting. He didn't tell them the names of all the students, just the ones with a bit more power. Prefects in the various Houses, a few upperclassmen. He even stressed that his friends told off anyone that said it, but they had their own studies and it's not like he needs them to look after him anyways. He tried so hard to downplay it while still answering their questions. It was understandable, but infuriating.
After they get the first wave of it out of their systems, it's time to plan. Professor Dumbledore is the Headmaster so he'll have to be involved in some fashion, but he's not the one who will be dealing with the situation-- that'll be Professor McGonagall. She's the Head of House for Gryffindor, and much more hands on than Dumbledore could ever be. She should be looking after Harry now that the prefects can't be trusted to do a bloody thing except add to it.
When they manage to get McGonagall on the floo, she is gratifyingly concerned. When they mention that the Gryffindor prefects are part of the problem, she looks incensed.
"I wanted it to feel better," James says, after they're done talking to her and she's gone from their fireplace.
"What do you mean?"
"I wanted to feel good after we took care of it. Maybe... I dunno, happy? Happy that Harry won't have to deal with it anymore, but I don't. I just feel angry, same as I did before."
"I know what you mean," Sirius says, taking James's hand in both of his own. "Maybe it'll feel good once he goes back to school and doesn't have to deal with it anymore. Right now, he's still with us. It's like nothing's changed yet."
"Yeah, maybe," James says noncommittally.
Sirius waits for him to finish whatever thought is in his head that's giving him so much trouble and isn't disappointed.
"I'm mad that it happened at all."
"Me too," Sirius agrees softly.
"I thought making sure it won't happen again would make that go away, but it didn't. I'm still angry."
Sirius squeezes his hand. He is too. He's not sure anything's going to make it disappear. "As long as it gets better, we'll move on."
"Right." James smiles at him. "Of course, you're right."