Harry/Sirius slash. More of a healing fic than a "defeat the Dark Lord" fic, if anything, that's just an aside, please review on that basis. Possible future MPreg so you were warned. I'm thinking of going up the age-old marriage contract route simply because I've never wrote it before, or would you guys prefer to see pureblood courting? Or just keep it a healing-romance? I've never wrote pureblood courting properly before so it could be fun but...well, whatever, I listen to input!

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER

{Family}

He was nervous, really nervous – Remus could tell, the way his body twitched, the way he kept glancing between the lobby and the fireplace, waiting for Harry. Maybe he'd been accosted, maybe Dumbledore changed his mind, maybe Harry didn't want to spend time with his loony decrepit ex-con godfather and his werewolf buddy, maybe-

"Remus? Sirius? I'm here," there was a loud sound after a few bumpy sounds from the front of the house, interrupting Sirius's thought stream. Remus flinched as Sirius got up with such startling speed he should not have been capable of it, and bounded like an overly excited puppy towards the lobby, wrapping his thin arms around his godson.

It took Harry a moment to register it, and felt warmth surrounding him – Sirius was hugging him, and quickly it was returned, before the man started to second guess his actions. Sirius squeezed as hard as he could but unfortunately that didn't amount to much, and when Harry realized that, a part of him felt sad. First time around, he obviously hadn't been there when Sirius had to break out of Azkaban, and in the memories – he only saw the haggard ex-con when he was ready enough to hold a wand and withstand combat enough to hunt down Peter Pettigrew. He'd never seen Sirius fresh out of that prison, and now he had, and it was obvious that the damage was there.

There was some pain in his movements but he somehow had the strength to hide much of it, for Harry's sake, and Harry wished that he wouldn't do that. He wanted Sirius to be himself around him, and not to be ashamed of the state the prison left him in.

Unfortunately that was hard, even in fine clothes, they hung off his frame much like how Dudley's castoffs hung off of Harry, though it was worse, as they were tailored for Sirius's once-fit body and only served to emphasize what had becoming of his receding waistline in context with his broad Black shoulders.

"This place looks…really clean," Harry said after a moment, it was probably clear of things like dust bunnies and kneazles and such but a lot of the dark objects and horrible furniture were present, casting the house interior in a gloomy light. He was thankful that the curtains were drawn over Lady Walburga Black, but could hear her hissing insults from beneath the velvet – he had plans for her, but those could wait.

"Dobby did a good job, afraid Kreacher hasn't done much but sit on his bum blathering to a portrait of my mad old mum," Sirius said with a scowl. "Sorry about the décor," he added when Harry grimaced at the sight of mounted house elf heads on the wall.

"Don't worry about it – I'm just glad to be here, why don't you show me around?" Harry slid his hand into Sirius's easily and let the older man lead him around the large townhouse-turned-home, letting the man accept the behaviour as fine – just to make things more comfortable. It gave him safe things to talk about to, gesturing to rooms with his rarely used voice which was much less hoarse than he'd last heard, touring him around the place.

"You can pick any room, this one is mine and that one is Remus's," said Sirius, gesturing to the doors which were rather apart, because Sirius had taken the Master Bedroom that used to belong to his parents. Out of spite, in Harry's memories, it had been Buckbeak's room, but now Sirius was taking his rightful place.

Harry ended up taking Regulus's old room and wisely he did not comment on the look that briefly flashed through Sirius's features, Kreacher however, let his feelings be known, hissing through his teeth.

"Filthy half-blood sleeping in good Master Regulus's room…" he grunted, Sirius had half a mind to hex him, but Harry waved it off with ease.

"Don't worry about the ravings of a mad elf," he said, loudly enough for Kreacher to hear "-if he really cared about the wishes of his former masters he wouldn't have let the house fall under disrepair just because you were in prison,"

Sirius glanced to Kreacher's retreating form and noticed he'd stopped, no doubt listening to Harry giving him a snide insult, the kind that was designed to pierce any self-respecting house elf.

"I've only met one other Black mind you – Phineas, headmaster's office, I know he wouldn't have stood for it, no reason why you should. He gave me the impression your lot had pride and grandiose, but it takes my elf to come and clean this place? Tch. Makes me think we should just….get rid, if he's going to be so useless, and enstate Dobby as the new Black elf,"

Sirius was a bit floored, wondering where all this was coming from, as was Remus – who could hear the complaining from the kitchen as he was laying out the cutlery, until his mind registered that he was teasing Kreacher.

"Shut up disgusting muddy half-breed! I am the only Black elf! Kreacher has served the Ancient and Noble House of Black for years! Kreacher is best elf!" he turned around, practically screaming in all of his tiny fury at Harry, who had an eyebrow cocked in amusement, as much as he hated the little bastard in his memories, this Kreacher had yet to commit future-Kreacher's crime.

"Really? You certainly don't behave like it," his eyes narrowed "-you know Kreacher, I lived with muggles, the worst kind of muggles, and they worked me to the bone. Scrubbing floors, scrubbing walls, heck, you know I've even scrubbed a ceiling? Painting fences, cooking and serving for three people – two of each who ate like land-whales, and all of it before three o'clock with no magic,"

Sirius felt an anger stirring in him, the kind of fury that awoke briefly in Azkaban but was too enraptured by the odd dialogue between his demented house-elf and strange godson to intervene.

"And you can't even maintain a house when there no living residents in it," he did his best sneer, but it didn't feel right on his face, it wasn't something he did often. "So until you act like the best elf I will have Dobby acting in your stead and you can retire," said Harry with a little sniff.

"I'm fine with it, Harry is right, you haven't acted as a good elf, and if you call him any nasty names again, you'll never serve this house again, you listen to the orders of the residents of this house," said Sirius, finding his voice "-the same goes for Remus, I will not tolerate any more jibes," he didn't seem particularly threatening but one look in the frail man's eyes told Kreacher that he was serious.

"Kreacher can be a good elf! Kreacher is a good elf!" he hissed "-Kreacher will not be replaced by the mad freedom lover!"

"No, but you'll work with him," said Harry after a moment "-if you're serious about being a good elf,"

Kreacher gave him his most hateful glare before nodding jerkily.

"Like it or not, Sirius is the last living full Black and you would do well to remember that as you serve him," said Harry, folding his arms over his chest to stare down at the misshapen little creature.

"Kreacher will," he huffed, still despising the idea.

"Good, now get Harry's trunk from the lobby and leave it in Regulus's old room," Sirius snapped, letting the elf disappear with a pop.

His godfather rounded on him after that, giving Harry an inscrutable look, which made the younger boy feel like a bug under a microscope. He didn't say anything for a long moment, before opening the door to Regulus's old room and gesturing him to go in, where the trunk had appeared in the brief time period between snapping at Kreacher and analysing his strange godson.

"You're trying to manipulate Kreacher into being a good elf?"

"Eh, I'd rather have him working with us instead of against us," said Harry with a shrug.

He watched as pain graced Sirius's movements through the house tour and did his best not to clip himself to his side like a crutch, the man had pride, he was great and handsome once – and would be again, but highlighting his weakness was probably not best. Looking at him awakened an urge inside of him – to nurse him back to what he should look like, like a bird with damaged wings. It would be long and arduous, difficult, challenging – it might take months, maybe even years – before he could lessen the haunted look in his eyes.

Looking at him, it would probably not go away. Not fully. Not ever.

Not for the first time, Harry wished he could shut down Azkaban.

"Have you eaten?" Harry asked gently, not even bothering to unpack, looking up at his haggard godfather as the man shook his head.

"The house isn't really stocked with much, Remus has been getting home-made food to go most of the time," admitted Sirius - the werewolf point blank refused to ignore Sirius's diet sheet and regularly made trips to cafés that let you take meals to-go and would get it from there, namely because the fridge appeared to have something living in it that he didn't know how to dispel without ruining the fridge.

"That's not sustainable," said Harry, frowning a bit, then again - the full moon would be soon, Remus was probably a bag of worries trying to sort out a Wolfsbane leader, Sirius and Harry who was now a Tri-Wizard champion.

"There's something living in the fridge, Moony can't get rid of it without ruining the fridge completely," replied Sirius.

Harry sighed, somewhere, a deeply broody feeling arose in him along with a tremendous urge to help, he supposed it came from his saving people thing mingled with his care and love for his penfriend and godfather. His memories hurt too - his thirteen year old self had never connected the level of pain Sirius was going through and the man had hid much of it, but as a sixteen year old with memories of a man far older, it was not easily brushed aside. The problem too, before, was that there simply wasn't enough time with the man.

Now there is time.

He would never make the mistake of not spending enough time with Sirius Black ever again.

"I'm going to head out and get us some dinner, what're you having Harry?" asked Remus when the pair finally emerged, noticing how Harry's eyes didn't leave his godfather's form, not even when he was directly addressed, worry all over the younger's face.

"Just grab me some mincebeef and chips," he said with a small shrug. Remus nodded, and didn't even ask what Sirius wanted, consulting a sheet pinned to the fridge before heading out.

"Dumbledore will be here in a few hours to Fidelius the house," said Harry after a moment, when Sirius and himself were left in awkward silence "-he agreed to be the Keeper,"

A sigh of relief escaped Sirius - it was one less thing to worry about.

"That's a relief, I hope Moony comes back soon, I'm starved," he said dramatically, but Harry winced - because he certainly looked starved, and Merlin knew he actually was in the damned prison. Sirius caught the look and the humour fell flat as a terse silence fell over the long white table in the kitchen.

"You'll get better," offered Harry quietly, while Sirius just nodded, before glancing away.

"What was that you mentioned to Kreacher anyway? Did those awful muggles really make you their house-elf?" he said, desperate to change the subject - Harry frowned at the hamhanded attempt but nodded.

"House-elf, punching bag, general scapegoat," said Harry shortly, watching as Sirius's dark eyes lit with a fury again, fury that didn't belong in his face - which should have been wrought with smiles and merriment.

"If I hadn't have gone chasing after Peter, that never would have happened," he said sullenly, as though he had his own personal rain cloud. Azkaban was probably responsible for much of his thought processes, and Harry wasn't about to let it stand.

"And if I wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, Voldemort would have a body," said Harry darkly "-it's not about ifs and buts Sirius, it's about changes. I don't know what I'd have done in your place. You thought Remus was the traitor first only to find it was Pettigrew, you lost my mum and my dad in one night, essentially everything, and went on the war path. I can fault you for it, but I know I might have done the same if it were Ron that did that to me. I don't hate you for it, so please don't hate yourself," Harry pleaded softly.

"I won't ever forget you again," said Sirius, looking over at him with regret in his face "Never forgive me if I do, you deserve the best Harry,"

"You're a man of your word," Harry offered him a small smile "-and the only one who can give me 'the best'. All I ever wanted was a family, now I've got it. I'm happy to be here,"

"Really? In this...place?" he gestured wildly to the dark decor and overall gloom and disrepair of the place and blinked when Harry chuckled at him.

"Sirius we could live in a damn shoe and I'd still be chuffed because I'd be with my godfather," he said warmly, giving him a look that made his heart and stomach meet with a tingling warmth and hesitant happiness, his body still wary of letting it happen, even now, lest the warm feeling be ripped from his bones.

"We'll make this a nice place," Harry said after a moment "-I think I'd like to have family meals here, you know?" his eyes raked over the long table they were sat at, even with Remus, it would feel too grandiose and empty. Harry stopped when he thought he sounded childish and snuck a look at Sirius's face, he didn't want to sound like some prattling kid, but found a wistful look in his eyes, and found that he wasn't alone in the thought.

"It'd be nice, wouldn't it?" Sirius said softly, gazing out at nothing, the two fell in companionable silence, until Moony arrived.

Sirius was thankful when he didn't have to say anything, not that he was a wallflower or anything, but after so many years in hell, he was far from his usually exuberant self, and was concentrating fully on the sausages, mash potatoes and beans. Remus and Harry filled the cavernous kitchen easily enough with their noise and chatter, he found he only had to make the appropriate noise here and there on his end, while he concentrated on his motor functions.

Out of the corner of Harry's eyes, he was watching his godfather, observing as his left hand had an imperceptible tremor and his right was pale from he tightness in which he held his fork. The food was soft enough that it didn't need harsh cutting, but he struggled with his sausages, when the knife clattered from his hand to the floor, Sirius felt his face heating up, about to bend down to get it.

Harry leaned to the left and moved his knife and fork to Sirius's plate, and began easily cutting up the sausages, making the embarrassment melt to a moody anger.

"I'm not a child! You don't have to cut my food for me!" Sirius snapped - Harry's kindness met with undue anger. Remus had gotten used to Sirius's adapting moods quickly, Azkaban had turned them into rather unstable things that he'd been informed from a mind healer would change the more Sirius had normal interaction, but the hurt on Harry's face was there, before it quickly left.

"The nutrient potions are designed to make changes to your muscles too, so a little shakiness is to be expected, no need to bite my head off, I didn't see 'mood swings' listed under side-effects," Harry snarked back. Remus watched in fascination as Sirius's anger almost instantly melted as he rose to get a new knife, and put the old one in the sink.

"Sorry Harry," Sirius mumbled, face inflamed - he was rather embarrassed about his state of weakness and it was a sensitive point, he thought Harry was rudely pointing it out until he brushed it off as a side-effect of his potions. Remus realized he'd done that too, and was surprised by the tact shown, because he didn't want to diminish Sirius's self-esteem.

"I'm just a mess," he sighed into sausages and ate them slowly.

"You were in Azkaban for longer than anyone should be," murmured Remus "-I think you're excused," the mere mention of the prison had Sirius's face darken again, and Harry almost wanted to kick the werewolf under the table for it.

"You'll be fine," said Harry tartly "Remus, I mentioned while you were gone - Professor Dumbledore will be over to Fidelius the house in a bit - he's offered to be Keeper,"

The change of subject was abrupt that Remus felt as though he was being rebuked by it, as if to say change the record you idiot, talk about something else.

"That's a relief," said the werewolf, mirroring Sirius's words "-I found a Wolfsbane brewer too,"

Just like that, the relaxed atmosphere returned.

"Well, that's well and good but did you find a new fridge? Sirius informs me we have something living in ours,"

"Erm, it might have slipped my mind," Remus confessed. Harry finished his food rather quickly and went to the fridge, opening it slowly and peering into the darkness which slowly lit to reveal what could only be described as a purple blob with large red eyes, the only thing in there was out of date butterbeer.

It blinked both of them at Harry.

Harry blinked back.

"Could you pass me the Butterbeer case please?" the absurdity of it only really struck him when the fridge creature's gloopy gelatinous arm coiled around the Buttebeer case and formed an almost tentacle-like appendage, serving it to Harry before slamming the fridge door shut from the inside.

There was silence as Harry tipped out the bad fluid, cleaning what little was in that fridge besides the strange living organism.

"You know, as far as fridge monsters go, it's not that bad," mused Harry aloud. "-We should just get a new fridge, that one appears to be 'home' to it,"

Sirius, unfortunately, had leftovers, and Remus chided him to eat it, until a pained noise left the haggard man and the werewolf relented, realizing that he'd be sick if he tried to eat anymore. Harry took the plates, ready to empty the scraps into the bin until he stopped, and turned to the fridge, before slowly opening it on the moody monster.

"Do you, per chance, take leftovers?" his response was the gloopy appendage returning, and plates being yanked from his hand. A strange noise not three seconds later, shook the cavernous kitchen, as several licked-clean plates burst from the fridge and shattered on the floor, the fridge-door having slammed shut.

"Don't feed it!" scolded Remus, repairing and floating the plates back to the sink.

"Eh, we have a free bin-beast,"

Sirius gave a slow smile at his godson, obviously finding it funny but struggling to find the will to laugh.

"I vote we name the Fridge Beast after Ron - you've seen how he eats in the Great Hall when you were our teacher," sniggered Harry.

"Don't make me upchuck," chuckled Remus, watching as Sirius's shoulders trembled a little with quiet laughter. Harry turned to him and saw the smile transfixed on his face, but Sirius struggling with much of his muscles, which occasionally locked up, now was one of those times, as it denied him laughter and a little drool escaped the side of his mouth. Self disgust was in his eyes in an instant as his shoulders stopped trembling and he moved to wipe his lips once his shaking hand stopped, only to find something soft pressing against his mouth and chin.

It was Harry, armed with a tissue, cleaning him like how a parent might dote on a mannerless child.

"Sorry Harry," said Sirius, face inflamed yet again.

"Stop that, you stop apologizing for everything Azkaban has done to you, I won't have it and neither will Remus," said Harry with a frown, wiping at his godfather's face until he was satisfied. Sirius was jarred by just how much Harry felt he could do to him, with apparent ease, and didn't even think twice about it, what was stranger - was that it just felt right, well, perhaps not right, but acceptable, normal and not weird. Which was strange really, because he was sure even with an Azkaban-addled mind that it was probably weird, and glanced to Moony for some sort of confirmation of it, but the werewolf just seemed rather enthralled but otherwise not weirded out.

"Nobody expects you to just be fine straight away. Rome wasn't built in a day, Sirius," said Remus gently, watching in prolonged fascination at Harry wiping his friend - he may resemble James, but he was all Lily, that boy was - really.

"I know, I just hate it," Sirius croaked, and honestly, from the petulantness, Remus almost expected a pout.

Harry hated it too, he wanted Sirius to be the healthy, prideful, majestic man that he knew that he could be.

"Kreacher! Could you please wash up and put the dishes away? Thank you," shocked the the politeness, the demented little house-elf stared at Harry after popping in, as though stumped by his words, before plodding towards the sink. Kreacher hadn't heard the words please and thank you in so long that it was strange to his large, flappy ears, but nonetheless did as he was told.

Remus expected him to mutter about waiting on half-breeds, and was pleasantly surprised when met with utter silence.

"I think I need to sleep, heavy meals always made me sleepy," murmured Sirius, while Remus nodded and Harry grinned up at them both - Sirius looked like he could do with uninterrupted sleep, and lots of it.

"Okay, and when you wake up, this place will be one step better to looking homely," said Harry seriously, Sirius managed a watery grin and plodded up to the Master Bedroom with his godson in tow, who was even seeing him off to sleep.

Agitating as it might be to need so much help, it was a little bit cute, Sirius had to confess, to have Harry worrying about him so much.

"You're such a little housewife," Sirius let out a throaty noise, which Harry realised was probably supposed to be a laugh.

"I'm just getting started," he winked at Sirius "-we'll take care of Dumbledore when he's here, you can sleep through it. Remus will be the binder anyways," said Harry as the Black Lord nodded.

"-Do you regret coming to stay here even a little?" asked Sirius after a moment "I know I'm not...the most cheerful to be around,"

"I don't regret it - not even slightly, besides," Harry's lips quirked a bit "-you know girls dig the whole 'dark, brooding, no smile sexy bloke' thing, you've got the whole 'tragically misunderstood' thing going for you too, so don't mind the lack of cheer,"

Sirius scoffed but smiled.

"I'm a decrepit old ex-convict, nobody digs that," he sniffed a bit, and though only humour was in his tone, the words were not at all self-serving, and Harry felt like he should say something - anything - to negate it, and let the words spill out without a filter, which came directly from his older self's memories after far, far, far too much Firewhiskey.

"Ah shuddup you old geezer I'd still wreck you like a Ford Anglia," with that, he left an open-mouthed godfather in his wake, especially when his mind caught on to what exactly wrecked meant in this context, his mind still a bit slow on the draw and fuzzy from prison, he wasn't his sharpest, but by the time he'd actually figured it out when rereading Harry's old letters about his...adventures, it was far too late to blush about it, and he'd simply snorted into his pillow before falling asleep.

His godson was indeed, a very strange lad.