Archive of Our Own

Harry flushed. "It's not about -- I'm too old for that, anyway!"

Suddenly, James was looking up from his magazine, eyes narrowed. Not so drunk after all. "Too old? Just how would you be too old for it?"

"Er." Harry didn't exactly want to regale his father with stories of his few, fumbling sexual exploits. "It's just... Anyway, that's beside the point! I really do want to ask you something."

"Out with it, then," Sirius sighed, looking disappointed. Apparently, he'd been looking forward to giving his godson The Talk. "But you'll have to tell us who the bird is." Sirius raised an eyebrow. "That got your bee."

"There was no bird, Sirius." Another knife-like glance from James. "At least, there better not be. My angel is still innocent. Untouched."

Sirius snorted. "I don't recall you being untouched when you were fifteen, Prongs."

"Yeah, but that's because you -- " And James suddenly felt silent, as if remembering where they were, and Harry felt kind of stupid for even asking. It was so obvious.

"So," Harry said, again. "The question. Um. I just always wanted to know... Were you guys, like, gay for each other?"

The bottle slipped out of James's grasp. Which would've made for a rather theatrical shattering, except that Odin's Finest always came with an Unbreakable Charm, so the bottle simply thunked onto the floor and rolled aimlessly, spilling a mouthful of beer.

Sirius, now -- Sirius was tipping his head back and staring at the ceiling, like maybe it held some answers, or like it was going to collapse.

"Not now," Harry said hastily. "I mean, not that you're gay for each other now. Right? I meant, back when you were at Hogwarts. Before... Before Dad got married."

"Before." James was watching his bottle roll to a stop. He made no move to retrieve it. "Before. That."

"Oh, god." Harry felt his ears burn, and a slow horror twist his stomach. "You guys aren't still... fooling around, are you?" And Harry could think of a dozen things to say, about how wrong it was, how sick it was, but all he could manage was: "Does Mum know?"

"Does. We." James seemed incapable of forming complete sentences.

Sirius, meanwhile, happened to look down from the ceiling, and Harry was surprised to see that he was glaring. "No," Sirius said, surprisingly clear, given James's current state of incoherence. "No, we are not still fu -- still fooling around. Merlin's beard, Harry! James loves Lily! I love Lily!" Then he seemed to realise what he'd just said, and he backtracked quickly. "I mean -- I love Lily as a friend, a totally platonic friend, like a sister even, and I'd never hurt her by -- uh -- I mean to say -- "

It appeared that Sirius was fast approaching incoherence, as well.

"I get it," Harry said, relieved. Best friends, past boyfriends. Or maybe just past shag mates. "Whew. You had me worried, there."

"We had you -- " Three words in a row from James, quite extraordinary. And more words followed. "How'd you find out?"

"Well, it's kind of." Harry waved a hand at them. "It's kind of obvious. I mean, you guys are all... intimate, and stuff."

"Friends can be intimate," Sirius pointed out.

"Friends don't haul friends over their laps and threaten to spank them until they c-come." Harry stumbled over the last word.

James's face drained of all blood. Suddenly, the expression 'white as a sheet' made absolute sense. "You heard that."

"Um. I wasn't. Spying, or anything. Neither of you knew I was home, obviously. And... you said other stuff."

"Other..." James was starting to sound faint, evidently remembering the rest of the conversation -- more appropriately termed dirty talk -- that he'd exchanged with Sirius.

"But it could've all been a lark, and maybe some friends do say that to each other -- so I didn't think -- well, I thought it was weird, but it wasn't gay by itself. It was more the... The way you guys act around each other, sometimes, like you know each other more than you should."

"More than we should." Sirius, who'd been silent for a while, was grinning now, one of his crazy little grins, and Harry felt something inside of him heat up. He could totally see why Dad had gone for Sirius. If Sirius weren't so completely out of Harry's league and also Harry's godfather -- not to mention Dad's ex-lover -- Harry might've gone for him, too. "You could say that."

"Since when did my son turn out to be so perceptive? My son?" James put his head in his hands. "And here I was, hoping to bring him up in an atmosphere of harmless heterosexuality..."

Sirius snorted. "There's nothing harmless about Lily, not when she's in one of her strops." A pause. "And you couldn't be heterosexual if your life depended on it."

"Speak for yourself," James growled.

"Um," Harry interjected. "I wasn't really being perceptive. It's just... Takes one to know one, and all that."

Two stares -- one fatherly, one godfatherly, both incredulous -- pinned Harry where he sat.

"Pot, kettle, you know," Harry said. "Birds of a feather," he extrapolated, just in case they weren't getting the point.

James was sprawled back in his chair again -- but now it was a I'm-stunned-out-of-any-capacity-for-bodily-coordination kind of sprawl. "Well, I'll be."

Sirius, on the other hand, was leaning forward. He had an unnerving gleam in his eyes, which only ratcheted up the heat coiling in Harry's abdomen. "So. Maybe this reason for your being too old for The Talk -- could it be a boy, Harry?"

Given James's previous reaction to Harry's 'angelic innocence' being stolen away, Harry deduced that he had better keep quiet about Cedric, especially if he wanted Cedric to escape ritual castration at the hands of a deranged father. "Um. I -- yeah. I mean, there was a girl, too, and she was nice, but -- " But he'd be the one getting castrated if Ron ever found out about Harry's experimental tumble with Hermione. " -- but it's more fun with blokes. Er. For me, anyway."

"More fun, indeed." Sirius actually looked proud. "He takes after me, James."

"He isn't your son," James said, which could be considered a low blow, but apparently Sirius was feeling unflappable.

"Tosh. I had a considerable hand in his upbringing. I changed more nappies than you did, you great lumbering lout."

"I could never figure them out!" James cried in frustration. "The sticky bits, and the -- " He fell silent for a moment, apparently struck by something, and then he spoke. "D'you think that could've turned Harry gay? The lack of -- early fatherly bonding, or something?"

"Oh, don't you go Freud on me," Harry snapped, and was the subject of stares again.

"You've read Freud," Sirius said, flatly, like he expected Harry to grow paws and wings and turn into a giant gay Hippogriff.

"Um. Hermione forced me." Harry blushed. "When she found out about my... confusion, she gave me these books, and some of them -- well, it was a load of shi -- er..."

"Excrement, Harry," Sirius supplied, eyes twinkling. "A load of homophobic excrement."

"Some of it was good. The novels, especially." Another blush. "They were kind of... informative."

"I'm sure they were." James was looking a little lost. "Does this mean I won't be able to leave my Witches Gone Wild collection to you, then?"

"I've got the Wizards, myself," Sirius chimed in. "Awesome stuff. Although I'll only loan you the vanilla tapes, of course. None of that bondage or sadomasochism or -- " He yelped as James kicked his shin. "Ow!" He leered at James in a decidedly illegal way. "Prongs, here, is obviously a sadist. Bloody hypocrite."

Harry tried, and failed, not to remember the rest of that spanking conversation. He pushed it into the corner of his mind where he could pull it out later and be traumatised appropriately. Like he'd been traumatised when he'd found out that Hermione shaved her pubic hair.

"I think you've shocked him, Pads."

"Harry? Shocked? Never." Sirius winked. "You're a man of the world, aren't you, Harry?"

"I'm not that worldly," Harry managed, after finding his voice. Visions of spanking had to be pushed aside. Harry had a weird flashback to Filch talking about hanging students by their thumbs, and Snape threatening a sound whipping, and -- "Um, could I have some of that beer?"

"You've driven him to drink," James muttered to Sirius, "Just like you did me." He picked up his bottle, finally, setting it a careful distance away from his son. "And no, Harry, you may not have that beer. You're years too young for it."

"But I've already -- "

"Sexual experimentation aside, you're still my baby, and I'll hex a particularly painful case of genital herpes onto the boy that trespassed on your virgin body."

Wow. Good thing he hadn't mentioned Cedric's name, then.

"You're being over-protective, mate." Sirius stood and walked over to Harry, where he ruffled Harry's hair and gave Harry an intoxicating whiff of Sirius-scent. "A boy's got to learn." He leaned down to whisper in Harry's ear: "You can tell me who he is, Harry. I won't do a thing." Sirius's voice was honey-sweet, but Harry had a strange inkling that Sirius's version of paternal concern might be as bad as James's -- maybe involving less bodily harm, but more along the lines of humiliating interference, such as packs of flavoured condoms and some of the more tasteful recordings from Wizards Gone Wild.

"No one, really." How unfair was it that Sirius was whispering into his ear, practically mouthing it, and Harry couldn't do a thing?

"Oi," said James to Sirius. "Stop molesting my son's ear, you ingrate."

"I'm not -- " Sirius began indignantly, but faded into mumbling excuses under James's glare. "Was only teasing him a little," Sirius said, having the grace to at least fake remorse.

"Your version of teasing borders on the abuse of a minor." James jerked his chin towards the empty chair at the table. "Sit."

Sirius folded into the chair with surprising alacrity. Harry realised, suddenly, that his godfather had never once disobeyed one of Dad's orders. Or even any of his requests.

Again, Harry was assailed by bizarre thoughts -- his godfather's Animagus form, collars, and games of dominance played out in the Gryffindor dormitory with a teenaged James bringing Sirius 'to heel'. Not to mention that conversation about spanking, and Sirius's apparent taste for bondage porn...

Harry cast another longing glance at the beer. Hell, forget the beer. An Obliviate was in order.

But the Hogwarts fantasy -- speculation, Harry amended fiercely, purely hypothetical speculation -- made Harry wonder about how the whole thing had started, anyway. "So did you," Harry said, "um, just start -- well, going out? When you were in school?" This had always puzzled him. "But wasn't Dad in love with Mum already?"

"A veritable case of Beatrice and Benedict, they were," Sirius acknowledged, although Harry blinked at the unfamiliar reference. Sirius sighed. "We weren't really going out, per se. It was more like..."

"It was more like Padfoot crawling into my bed at night and giving me a blo -- er. Keeping me company." James noticed Harry staring at him, and quickly corrected himself. "Sirius, I meant. In his human form. Not Padfoot. In his. Um."

Yeah. Definitely an Obliviate.

"James was only really straight when it came to Lily, despite his porn collection." Sirius had a faraway, wistful look in his eyes. "Before he got serious about her, and even for a while afterwards, your father and I were very, very close."

"We're still close," James said, gruffly. "Shut up, Pads."

Was that a...? Yes, it was, it was a smile on Sirius's face -- which was a rare thing, because usually all Sirius cared to dish out were grins, of varying degrees of wickedness and impropriety. A real smile, though, a quiet smile... Harry hadn't seen that too many times, although he'd seen glimpses of it when Sirius had bought him his first Firebolt, and had taught him how to master the Jelly Legs jinx.

"Are you," Harry found himself asking, even if it was only to tantalise himself with later, "are you single, Sirius?"

"Me?" Sirius looked offended. "Sirius the Sex God? Single?" But then he saw James's raised eyebrow, and deflated. "Yeah. I'm single. Can't believe it -- Remus taking up with that Tonks woman, and even Wormtail's got a girlfriend, but I -- "

"So you go to clubs, then?" Harry tried not to sound eager. "The, um, bars? And stuff?"

Sirius looked at him with careful eyes. "What're you trying to say, Harry?"

"Just that, you know, you could let me tag along, sometime. Introduce me to someone. Maybe -- "

"No." James's voice was granite. "You're a child, Harry. They wouldn't let you in, anyway."

Sirius muttered something about glamours and Polyjuice, and got another kick in the shin. "Ow!"

"And even if they did let you in," a death-glare directed at Sirius, "I'd flay any man who laid hands on you alive."

"There he goes with the sadistic impulses," Sirius sighed, like a long-suffering best mate. Which was what he was, after all. "But he's right, Harry. I'd never take you to such a place. Maybe when you graduate from Hogwarts, and we're celebrating your new adulthood..." A wicked smirk, with Sirius's dark eyes gleaming again, and oh. Harry could certainly think of a thousand ways in which Sirius could help him celebrate his adulthood.

"Harry, whatever it is you're thinking right now, stop it." James's voice was sharp.

"Spoilsport." Sirius made a face, before snatching James's bottle of Odin's Finest -- and he made such a ridiculous show of wrapping his lips around it that Harry knew, suddenly, that Sirius really had only been teasing him. A part of him felt bitterly disappointed, but at the same time, he was relieved -- Sirius would never stop being his godfather, his responsibly irresponsible godfather, even if he was totally gay and liked spankings and loved Harry's Dad.

It was obvious that he still loved Harry's Dad.

For a moment, Harry ached -- even though it was silly, because Sirius was so obviously coping with it and Dad was so obviously acting like Sirius didn't have anything to cope with. And they were still best mates, and they'd always be best mates, closer even than close, close like Harry and Ron would be twenty years from now, if Ron didn't freak out about Harry's gayness or find out that he'd bonked Hermione. Even if the thing with Hermione had only been an experiment, and Hermione had nobly volunteered as a 'test subject,' saying that she'd been pretty frustrated since Krum's departure.

Wait, no. The term Hermione had used wasn't frustrated. It was something along the lines of 'lacking in amicable companionship'.

And why was Harry remembering this? Hermione and Krum -- another Obliviate moment.

Harry was about to say something -- he wasn't sure what -- when the front door swung open, and Lily walked in with several bags of groceries floating obediently behind her.

"Finite," she sighed, and the bags settled onto the kitchen counter. She rolled her shoulders, glancing towards them. "Lazy sods," she said. "Not lifting a finger to help a damsel in distress."

"You're as much of a damsel as Sirius is," James retorted, as blandly as if he hadn't just been having an intense discussion on homosexuality with his only son and his ex-lover. He retrieved his bottle from Sirius. "Beer?"

"I thought you and Sirius would've drunk it all."

"You give us too much credit," Sirius grinned, looking flattered. "There's more, in the fridge."

"The damn thing's still working?"

"Sirius bolstered it with a Cooling Charm. I'll call the repairman tomorrow, I promise."

"That's what you said last week." Lily walked up to James and pecked him on the lips, and Harry watched Sirius watching them, and saw how Sirius's grin didn't waver.

Maybe Harry shifted a little, because suddenly Lily's eyes were on him, mirror-green and sharp.

"So," she said, conversationally. "My child hasn't been plied with alcohol, has he? Or regaled with pornographic jokes?"

"We'd never." Sirius sounded appalled. Harry thought it was a good thing that Mum hadn't seen him... molesting Harry's ear. Or talking about sadomasochism. Or anything else.

"Hmph." She leaned in to kiss Harry on the cheek, too, before turning to leave.

"Couldn't you trust in my parenting skills?" James called over his shoulder as Lily retreated to the bathroom. "Just a little?"

"The last time I did that," her words echoed out of the bathroom, "you got distracted by the new Starburst in a shop window, and lost Harry in Diagon Alley for nearly five hours."

"That was twelve years ago!"

"Once bitten, twice shy."

"Shrew," James scowled, thankfully too quiet for Lily to hear him from where she was.

"Oh, come now, Prongs." Sirius's voice was as gentle as it was teasing. "She's just exercising her better judgement. Something that neither you nor I are particularly skilled at."

James rolled his eyes. Then he leaned forward, abruptly, until his elbows were on the table and his face was close to Harry's. "So when're you going to tell her?"

"About what?"

"About your preferences, that's what."

"Oh." Harry found himself turning to meet Sirius's eyes, for some reason that he couldn't fathom. "Um. Soon? Maybe on my birthday."

"Good choice," Sirius nodded. "She can't go ballistic on your birthday."

"She won't go ballistic," James stated, firmly. His hand closed on top of Harry's. "She won't, Harry. Trust me. She knew about Sirius and me -- "

"And I -- "

"Shut it, Pads -- she knew about us, about how we used to be, and she didn't mind."

Really? Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult, then. He'd pretty much known that Dad and Sirius would be all right with it, since they were, well -- what they were -- but he was still afraid of what Mum would think. Deadly terrified, to be more accurate.

"Buckle up, lad." Sirius punched his arm softly. "It can't be as bad as the time I told my mother."

Harry remembered the screaming portrait in Sirius's house, and winced. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

"Of course we are." James looked down his nose. "We're older, wiser, and -- "

"Sadder, probably." It was Lily, who'd just come out of the bathroom with her hair done up in a braid, and her face still damp as she patted it dry with a towel. "I don't know about being wiser, though." She shot all three of them suspicious looks. "What were you lot talking about?"

"Oh, you know," Harry mumbled evasively. "Guy stuff."

"Guy stuff," Mum repeated, as if this were a code word for dung bombs or chemically unstable substances. Given the fact that she'd known Sirius and James since Hogwarts, it wasn't that much of a surprise.

"The birds and the bees," said Sirius devilishly, and succinctly. It was Harry's turn to kick him in the shin -- but evidently he didn't do it as hard as Dad did, because Sirius only chuckled.

Mostly the bees, Harry didn't say, as James attempted to hide behind his now-empty bottle of beer. Lily took one look at the flaming red of Harry's face and burst out laughing. Just the bees, actually.

 

Fin.