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It was only a month after Harry had moved into Remus' cottage with his godfather's, and Sirius was already worrying. Though, to be fair, he was worried the first week, and before Harry had even moved in, too. Sirius knew. He knew Harry wasn't alright. No one would be, with all the shit the kid has gone through. If he was honest with himself, the reason why he waited is because he was scared. Really, he was a coward. He didn't know how to do this. How to comfort and console. He didn't want to fuck up and make things worse.
He just wanted to be the person he desperately needed when he was Harry's age.
But by the time the first month rolled by, Sirius was done with waiting. Harry hardly ate, he looked dead on his feet, and he apologised for everything. Sirius knew it wasn't his godson being polite; it was fear. He knew it, because he had felt it. Because he had seen it in his little brother. Because he knew, and he was scared for Harry.
Which brings him to where he was currently, standing outside Harry's door, hand raised to knock. He took a breath, then two, then...
Well, then he knocked.
A moment later, and Harry was standing in front of him, weary but sporting a small smile. Sirius returned it as best he could.
"Hey, Harry. Mind if I come in for a minute? Wanna chat about something," he said. Each word felt delicate, like one little thing would make the entire thing blow up in his face.
Thankfully, Harry just nodded, letting him in.
He sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, patting the space beside him. Harry sat, albeit hesitantly.
But Sirius could work with that.
He glanced around his godson's room. Him and Remus had told him to decorate it however he pleased, but it was still rather bare. There was a Gryffindor banner hanging on the wall, and a couple pictures scattered about, as well as some books, but apart from that, it might as well have been anyone's room. It made Sirius' heart ache, actually. But he pushed that down for the time being. Harry was his priority. Always.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Harry, I'm going to be...blunt with you, okay? Because I'm kind of horrible at this, but I care." He turned to face Harry. "I care," he repeated. "You know that?"
Harry nodded, looking a bit wary.
Sirius just nodded. "Good."
A moment of silence.
Then two.
Sirius let three go by before he feared he would lose his nerve, and spoke,
"I'm worried about you, Harry."
Harry blinked, looking like he'd just been caught red-handed for a crime. Like he had done something wrong that he ought to be ashamed of.
There was a sharp feeling in Sirius' throat. The same feeling that was there when he left Grimmauld Place for good, looking at his brother and pleading for him to come with him to the Potters.
And now, Regulus was dead.
He would be damned if he let Harry follow suit.
"You aren't in trouble, kid. This is based off of what I feel, not what you've done. I need you to know that." He met Harry's eyes. "You're a good kid, Harry. But you were treated like shit for a long time. I'm so, so very sorry that you were. I really am. Because I should have been the one to take care of you." A shaky breathe. A silent prayer he wasn't making things worse. "I know this is new; that you're still adjusting. I get that. Changing environments can be a lot. But I can see you're shouldering too much, and I'm telling you right now, Harry, so long as I am alive and breathing, I will care for you. That includes making sure you're doing okay physically and mentally."
Harry blinked. Just...blinked. Like his brain was overloading. Which Sirius understood. Euphemia had given him a similar speech when he had first moved in with the Potters, and at the time, it had sent him reeling, to feel cared for and loved. He had actually reacted rather badly to it. Growing up, kindness was always a trap, or a trick, or a sick punishment.
Needless to say, he understood. He gave Harry time, watching him carefully.
Eventually, the boy spoke up,
"Sirius, I'm...I'm alright, really. I'm just tired, is all."
Sirius raised an eyebrow.
He could see the moment Harry caved.
He saw, and waited a moment before asking, "Harry, what can I do?"
Questions can be tough to answer if you've never been asked them before. Sirius damn well knew that.
He just hadn't been expecting Harry to break down.
Fuck, had he mucked it up after all?
He shoved down his doubt and panic. "Harry, is touch okay?" he asked, quiet and gentle.
Harry nodded, and Sirius took no time in wrapping his godson in his arms and holding him close, rubbing his back in a way he hoped was soothing.
When the boy all but sank into his arms, Sirius placed a small kiss to the top of his head. "You're going to be alright, love," he whispered. "Tout ira bien."
Time slowed, in that moment. Blinking and sluggish and creating a small bubble around the two of them. It was almost comforting, to think that for a moment, nothing had to matter besides them. That Harry was safe right here, in this moment, and Sirius could just hold him, and it wasn't 'fine' or 'okay', but they were together, and safe, and that was enough.
The bubble was popped when the front door opened, and Harry sat up.
"Shh, shh, it's alright. It's just Remus, love," he mumbled, which seemed to relax the boy a bit. He sighed, shoulders slumping. He looked like he was carrying the exhaustion of an army.
He kind of was, wasn't he?
Sirius let them fall into silence for a moment before he tapped Harry's knee, getting his attention. He smiled. "How about we go downstairs and fix ourselves something warm to drink, and figure it out together, yeah?"
It took a moment, but his godson nodded.
With that, Sirius stood, offering Harry a hand. "We don't need to unpack everything at once, but I've found that once you start letting other people take part of the weight that currently sits on your shoulders, the thought of talking about the things that weigh us down becomes less daunting."
Harry glanced up, taking his hand and standing, offering Sirius a small smile.
He could work with that.