A/N: I've always loved fics of the 'Harry gets a family' variety, and I've also always wondered just how a free Sirius and Harry would realistically interact. Sirius taking Harry in is a bit cliche, I know, so please keep in mind that I'm not planning on Sirius becoming Super-Dad and Harry instantly adapting to his new environment. On the other hand, I have no intention of simply repeating the word 'ANGST' over and over for fifty chapters. A healthy middle ground sounds about right, right?

Thank you for reading; any and all constructive criticism is always welcome, and in fact encouraged.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summary: Sirius's name has been cleared, but all is not well. As he and Harry begin to get to know one another, both come to realize that being a family isn't as easy as they'd expected. Azkaban and the Dursleys' never were the most stable of environments, after all.

What Now?

Chapter One:

From his bedroom window, Sirius could see the trees outdoors swaying in the wind. A particularly strong gust rattled the windowpanes in their frames, and although the thunder had ceased earlier in the night he could tell that the storm was far from over. He wasn't especially bothered, however. Azkaban had been continuously stormy, and while he didn't particularly enjoy the weather it was easy to ignore.

Sirius couldn't sleep. He'd tried for the last few hours, but it was starting to seem that he would never be able to force his body to shut down. Pushing himself out of bed, he made his way downstairs, not fully sure where exactly he was going. It was no use to force himself to sleep when he'd napped half the day away. He was trying to adapt to a somewhat regular sleep schedule, but saying was easier said than doing. Upon leaving Hogwarts there had been the war to deal with, and he'd learned quickly that he valued staying alive more than getting his eight hours of beauty rest every night.

Azkaban had been even worse- there was no way of knowing if it was day or night, as the sky had remained dark and stormy at all hours. Sirius had slept when he felt like it, which was most of the time. There wasn't much else to do other than read the Daily Prophet, which he only was able to get a hold of once every few years. By now Sirius could recite the contents of the three newspapers he'd had from cover to cover.

After that he'd been on the run. Staying away from Azkaban and bringing Wormtail to justice hadn't left much time for conventional sleeping patterns, and now that he was free to do as he pleased Sirius found that tossing aside all the years that had passed since leaving Hogwarts was easier said than done.

The house- his house, he had to keep reminding himself- was small, but it didn't seem that way to him. Back at 12 Grimmauld Place there had been numerous rooms, all filled to the brim with ornate furniture and knickknacks of every variety. He'd lasted a day and half there before begging Dumbledore to help him find somewhere, anywhere else to live. It was a long and difficult process for a wizard to secure land for a house not in a wizarding village, as there were Muggle repelling charms to consider, and it wasn't as though they could keep Muggles from accessing more than half the country without raising suspicion. Still, Dumbledore being Dumbledore meant that he had connections, and before a week had passed Sirius found himself in his new home. It was small and in the middle of nowhere, just as he had wanted. The rooms were open and airy, and as unadorned as possible. Sirius adored it.

Sitting on the sofa, Sirius stretched out and tried to occupy his thoughts. For years he'd been able to lay in silence for days and weeks and months with only himself for company, but now that he wasn't required to it was more difficult than before. He briefly considered transforming into his dog form, just as he had when the loneliness had threatened to overtake him in Azkaban. The release when he did so was wonderful, and although he retained enough of himself to be somewhat self aware, his emotions became simplified. The wrenching that seemed to physically rip him apart whenever he thought of James and Lily was replaced by a generic sadness, and everything blurred just enough so that he wasn't quite sure why he was so upset.

He decided against transforming tonight, as doing it alone reminded him too much of being in Azkaban. If he was going to transform, he was going to do it because he damn well felt like it, not because he thought he needed to. Maybe he needed someone to talk to- that always seemed to help.

Crossing to the fireplace, Sirius dropped to his knees and tossed a hand of Floo Powder into the grate. "Remus Lupin's flat!"

Green flames sprung up, and Sirius stuck his head directly into them. Before long, he found himself looking into the rundown living room of the only Marauder left aside from himself. "Moony? You there?"

After a moment passed, he tried again. It was only when Remus stumbled in, bleary eyed, that Sirius remembered just what time it was. "Crap, I'm sorry Moony. I forgot the time; go back to sleep-"

Remus stifled a yawn and sat cross legged in front of the fire. "It's all right, I wasn't sleeping either. The rain's too loud."

"Want to come over?" Sirius asked. "I could use some company. Maybe I'll make breakfast five hours early..."

"You can't cook at all," Remus said, stifling another yawn and smiling. "Give me five minutes and I'll come over and do it myself."

Sirius smiled as well. "Thanks, Moony. I should wake up at three in the morning more often."

Remus muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he headed into his bedroom to get dressed. Sirius took a glance around before pulling his head back into his own living room and noted, not for the first time, just how shabby everything Remus owned was. He'd mostly stopped trying to offer him money (as he was always refused), but something really needed to be done. Sirius wasn't quite sure what yet, though.

The fire sprang to life once again, and Remus emerged, dusting the soot off his robes. "You've fixed the place up nicely."

Sirius glanced around skeptically. It looked just as he had when he'd moved in. "Not much has changed."

"It seems more lived in," Remus said simply, and they started for the kitchen together. "Eggs?"

"Sure. Anything is fine- I lived off lumpy beige rubbish for twelve years, and it was mostly rats and plants for the year after that..." Sirius trailed off when he saw the look on Remus's face. "Cheer up, it wasn't that bad. Sometimes old women would have pity on me and leave out bowls of dog food. And either way, I'm alive now, aren't I?"

Remus didn't say anything, instead busying himself with the beginnings of an omelet. "I don't know how you survived that place."

Sirius shrugged awkwardly, not sure what to say. "I transformed whenever it became too much. And it really only tears you apart if you're guilty, you know. I had that to hold onto." Before Remus could say anything, he quickly changed the subject. "But enough of that. How's the job hunt going, by the way?"

"Miserably," Remus said matter-of-factly. "I'll find something soon enough, though. I usually do."

"If you'd just let me lend you-" Sirius spoke over Remus's objections. "Lend you, not give it away-"

"If I'm starving on the streets I'll ask you for help," Remus said flatly. He turned his attention to the omelet and added, "I'll be fine, Sirius. It's just the way life with my condition is."

"It shouldn't be, though. And in your case it doesn't have to be."

Sirius didn't expect a response, and he didn't get one. He supposed it was his own fault for bringing it up- these conversations never ended well. When Remus glanced in his direction, he put his hands up in the air and said, "I'll drop it. I think you're cracked, but I'll drop it."

"Thank you." They fell into a comfortable silence, and before long Remus turned the heat on the stove down and reached for a plate. "Yours is ready."

Breakfast was simple but delicious. Almost everything seemed delicious now, but Sirius could taste the difference between his own cooking and Remus's. "This is great, Moony... Merlin, the food in Azkaban was shit. I don't even know how they made it- it's hard to picture a Dementor in an apron flipping pancakes..."

Remus didn't smile, but Sirius supposed it wasn't a particularly amusing joke. "You're doing all right, then?"

He shrugged- he was mostly all right, but it wasn't as if he was doing back flips each day. "Yeah, I'm all right. Better than I've been in a long while, at least."

"You never should have been there to begin with." Remus sighed. "In Azkaban. I should have realized-"

"It was my own fault for thinking that you were the mole. I just..." Sirius trailed off and sighed as well. "We were both idiots."

Remus nodded in agreement, and after a moment of awkward silence they returned to their food. Sirius wondered if that little voice in the back of his head that started whispering whenever Remus was around would ever go away. The little voice that constantly reminded him that if he hadn't suspected his friend that James and Lily never would have switched Secret Keepers and everyone would still be alive now.

"I don't blame you or anything," Remus said after a moment had passed. "I mean... my kind isn't known as being the most trustworthy..."

"Oi," Sirius said sharply, lowering his fork. "Shut up. You know I don't think of you any differently just because of that."

"Well, I wouldn't blame you if you did." Remus took a deep breath, then changed the subject. "Is Dumbledore letting Harry spend the rest of the summer with you?"

"I don't know yet. I think so, though." Sirius said, knowing that whatever he said about Remus being a werewolf not mattering would fall on deaf ears. "I wish I could get full custody..."

The blood wards provided by the Dursleys hampered that a bit, however- if he were to adopt Harry, 4 Privet Drive would effectively cease being a magically recognized 'home' for Harry, meaning the blood protection he received from Voldemort would be null and void.

"I'll probably get most of the summer with him," he said. "It's not enough, but at least it's something."

"It'll be good for him, and you," Remus agreed. "He wants a family badly, I've gathered as much."

Sirius nodded, and then, out of nowhere, he found himself thinking of that night, running across the grounds with Harry and the others. He thought of the Dementors swarming before being called off by Dumbledore, and what had followed when Pettigrew had failed to escape-

He couldn't think about that now, just as he couldn't think about what had transpired at his own trial afterwards. Not that it was anything more than a show trial now that it was clear he was innocent, but the whole experience had still been incredibly intense, especially when one considered the incident that had transpired when-

No. He wasn't thinking about that now, because he was innocent and happy and very likely about to spend most of the summer with his godson, around whom he was able to act with such a carefree easiness that he half believed he really was at ease. He was not going to dwell on the past. And if he kept telling himself exactly what he was going to do, maybe eventually his mind would listen.

"Are you really all right?" Remus asked, staring at him intently.

"Not really," he admitted. "But I will be eventually."

Harry had packed his trunk several times, but each time he found he was unable to shut its lid. Even on an average day he never bothered with folding his clothes and stacking his books neatly, and now that he was this excited it was all the more difficult to slow down and do it properly.

Summer holidays with the Dursleys had never been particularly fun, but each day seemed to drag by without end now that Harry knew he'd be free by the start of July. Knowing that he could be with Sirius instead of eating grapefruit quarters for breakfast and listening to Dudley wail about his involuntary diet was torture, and Harry had taken to keeping track of how many days he had left in his head.

Two more days, he told himself as he sat on the lid of the trunk to make it go down. Two more days and I don't have to see any of them until next year.

The trunk still wouldn't close, and Harry gave up for the moment. Sitting at his desk with halfhearted intentions to try to do some of his summer homework, he instead found himself drawn to the letter he'd read so many times that he now knew it by heart.

Dear Harry,

Good news! You can spend part of the summer with me- how does the first of July sound? Arthur's still looking into getting World Cup tickets, but he's pretty sure he'll get them. How does some time away from your aunt and uncle followed by some Quidditch sound?

Sirius

Harry still couldn't believe it was all real. The trial had been swift and completed before the term had ended, and Harry hadn't been permitted to attend it, much to his frustration. He'd expected to testify- after all, he'd played a huge role in the whole thing, but Dumbledore and Lupin had testified instead. Harry had heard vague rumors about something happening during Snape's testimony, but he wasn't fully sure what had transpired, and no one would give him a straight answer. In Harry's opinion, he'd probably demanded that Sirius be locked up for another twelve years. Harry vowed to ask Sirius when he saw him.

There was a tap on the window, and Harry glanced up to see an owl pecking at the windowpane. He hurried forward and slid the window open, allowing the bird in. On the street he could see two neighbors elbowing each other and pointing, mouths open. He wondered how Aunt Petunia explained the owls that came and went from his bedroom to the rest of Privet Drive. Probably something to do with his being a dangerous delinquent- maybe he was feral now as well.

The handwriting belonged to Sirius, and Harry quickly ripped the envelope attached to the package open. Inside was a response to Harry's most recent letter.

Dear Harry,

I had a feeling you'd be excited! I'm busy setting up a room for you now. Do you want it to be any particular color scheme? I found some of my old Quidditch posters at my parents' house, and I'm putting them up now. We can go to Diagon Alley at some point and buy some newer ones, too.

So, how's life with the Dursleys? Have your aunt and uncle already bought your cousin a replacement for the play-game-thingy he broke? Are you still living off of carrots? I sent you a cake I tried to make. I'm not sure how edible it is, but if it's truly awful maybe you can give it to Hedwig. On second thought, that might be cruel to her too.

No matter how awful the Dursleys are, look on the bright side- at least you'll be free in only a couple of days!

Sirius

Harry tore open the package and grinned. The cake was, in fact, disgusting, but it was certainly better than dinner had been. Once he'd eaten enough for the time being and stashed the rest under the loose floorboard, Harry reached for a quill and ink. Flattening a piece of parchment on the surface of his desk, he began to write quickly.

Dear Sirius,

Thanks for the cake, it was ten times better than the stuff I've been eating. Dudley's diet is still on, though he's still cheating. To answer your question, no, he doesn't have a replacement PlayStation just yet, but it'll only be a matter of time before Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon cave in. After all, it's hard enough on him by being on his diet, or at least that's the way they put it.

Thanks for the Quidditch posters, and don't worry about any particular color scheme- anything is fine. I can't wait until I can join you! I normally hate the summer, but not this year. Write back soon!

Harry

The owl accepted his letter and flew back the way he came. Harry flopped onto his bed, unable to keep himself from smiling. Finally, it was guaranteed that he'd be able to spend part of his summer somewhere he was wanted, and he wouldn't even have to get there by escaping in a flying car or nearly being killed by a three decker bus. It would be like being at the Weasleys- like having a family. No one would ignore him when he came down for breakfast, and he wouldn't have to carefully monitor each word he uttered for fear of accidentally referring to the dreaded 'M' word.

Harry thought back to what Sirius had said when they'd first met, about living with him. Maybe this would be permanent. Would Dumbledore allow it? Did Dumbledore have any say in the matter to begin with? Technically, Sirius was his legal guardian. But then again, that had probably been changed when Sirius was sent to Azkaban. But everyone knew he was innocent now, didn't they?

Maybe he'd never have to stay with the Dursleys again. Maybe this would be the last summer he listened to Dudley's temper tantrums. Maybe when he walked out the door come the first of July he'd never set foot in 4 Privet Drive ever again.

Down the hall, Dudley began to let out loud, fake tears. From the sound of things, Aunt Petunia had found his stash of sweets. Glancing around his small, cramped bedroom, Harry decided that he was more than all right with the idea of leaving forever.

Uncle Vernon sat stiffly in the living room, staring at the clock as it ticked closer and closer to noon. "Wouldn't surprise me if he doesn't show up- convicted criminal and whatnot."

"He was pardoned," Harry said, not knowing why he bothered- Uncle Vernon knew this perfectly well. "He was innocent."

"Hmph. I can imagine his type- reckless, lawbreaking, but when he's blamed for the one thing that wasn't his fault he's suddenly an angel." Uncle Vernon turned to Dudley. "Don't say a word to the man, not even if he speaks to you first."

Dudley nodded quickly, and Harry noticed his hands had begun to inch toward where he'd once had a pig's tail. "I won't."

"How's he coming for you, then?" Uncle Vernon asked, returning his attention to Harry. "Flying carpet?"

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "I suppose he'll just knock on the door like anyone else. I hope he doesn't try and Floo here, I didn't tell him about the fireplace being boarded up..."

"Floo?" Uncle Vernon repeated suspiciously, and Aunt Petunia involuntarily shuddered.

"Don't you talk about that under this roof!" she snapped.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "And he won't- you're not connected to the Floo Network."

"Floo Network?" Dudley repeated. "What does that do? Does it give you the flu?"

Harry didn't respond- Uncle Vernon was glaring at him too intensely- and instead glanced around the living room. His aunt and uncle had bought a new television in the past year, and a new school picture of Dudley hung behind it. There weren't any photos of Harry, except for one where his foot was visible as he left the room. The Dursleys probably hadn't noticed, because if they had Harry imagined it would be disposed of.

Once again, he thought about the possibility leaving and never returning to 4 Privet Drive. He was already spending most of the summer with Sirius, so why couldn't he spend future holidays with him too? In his last letter Sirius had told him that he'd readied a bedroom for him, and Harry already considered it his own more than Dudley's second bedroom despite the fact that he hadn't actually seen it yet.

The clock chimed twelve times. Harry stood up and glanced up and down the street from the window, but the only movement was a car several blocks down and a cat climbing a tree.

"Your sort doesn't favor punctuality much, do they, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked, obviously pleased by Harry's discomfort but annoyed at having to wait any longer than necessary to get rid of him.

"I dunno," he responded flatly. "Hagrid knocked down the door at the stroke of midnight that one time, pretty punctual if you ask me-"

"Don't talk about-" The vein in Uncle Vernon's forehead had begun to throb, and he couldn't finish his sentence. Even if he had been able to, he would have been cut off by the knock at the door.

Harry rushed for the door and pulled it open before Aunt Petunia had even managed to rise to her feet.

"You're here!" Harry grinned and threw his arms around his godfather. "How'd you do that? I was just looking out the window and only turned away for a second-"

"Apparated," Sirius said smoothly. "Don't worry, no one saw me."

Harry felt his grin widen. "That's wicked! Isn't it against the law, though? To Apparate in a Muggle area?"

Sirius waved a hand in response and turned to the Dursleys. "Well, hello. It's nice to finally meet you."

Uncle Vernon grunted, not bothering to stand up. "So, you're the boy's godfather, then?"

"I am," Sirius said with a nod. He crossed the room and stuck out his hand. "And you're Lily's family, I imagine. Not much of a resemblance, I'm afraid."

"Thank goodness for that," Uncle Vernon muttered under his breath. "And if you'd be so kind, I'll ask you not to use any of that... that abnormality where the neighbors can see it."

"Don't worry," Sirius said without a beat, and he let his hand drop. "I'm not planning on staying any longer than necessary. Harry, where's your trunk?"

"Upstairs, in my room," he said, and started toward the stairs. "Hedwig's cage and my broom are up there too. Could you help me carry everything down?"

"Sure thing. Lovely meeting you all, you have no idea," Sirius said to the Dursleys in such an over the top impression of a gentlemanly voice that Harry laughed out loud. Once they were upstairs, Sirius exhaled loudly. "Lily always said they were pains in the arse, but I didn't think they'd be that bad."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Please. They're on their best behavior; you haven't seen them when they're anywhere near their worst." He paused, then added, "Did my mum really say that?"

"All the time. I think she was really hurt when her sister didn't ask her to be in her wedding..." Sirius trailed off at Harry's expression. "What?"

"Nothing... it's just that I don't really know much about my parents. Or anything, really. I have this," Harry said, reaching for the photo album Hagrid had given him. "But that just shows me what they looked like, not how they really were, you know?"

Sirius sat heavily on the bed and began to leaf through the album. "Merlin, I'd forgotten about a lot of these... Oi, there's me."

Harry looked at the picture Sirius was pointing at. It was the photo taken at his parents' wedding, and he was struck by just how young Sirius looked. "How old were they, when they were married?"

"Eighteen. Just out of Hogwarts." Sirius shook his head and laughed, although it wasn't quite as effortless as his last few. "We were children. Didn't seem that way at the time, but we were. It's strange to think about it..."

It was hard to imagine for Harry as well. He couldn't picture himself married in only four years, but that was the age his parents had been when they'd done it. "How old were they when I was born? And when they died?"

Sirius tore his gaze away from the picture. In a startled tone of voice, he asked, "You don't know? I mean, I understand not knowing when they were married, but no one ever told you the year they were born?"

Harry shook his head. "I knew my mum was younger than my aunt, and that she and my dad were in the same year, so they had to be young, but whenever I asked about it..." He trailed off. "My aunt and uncle don't really like questions."

"Arseholes." Sirius rose to his feet and started for the door. "I ought to give them a piece of my mind-"

"Don't. It's not worth it; they're not going to change." Harry picked the album up from where Sirius had tossed it on the bed and stuck it into his already bulging trunk. The lid still wouldn't close, and he tried sitting on it.

Sirius sat on the bed and shook his head. "Your parents were twenty when you were born and twenty-one when they died."

"Oh," Harry said. He wasn't sure what to think- he'd pictured them being somewhat closer to their mid to late twenties. "So if they were still alive..."

"They'd be thirty-four," Sirius finished. "Like me."

"Oh," he repeated. Again, he didn't know what to say. Picturing his parents as however they might look at thirty-four, he turned to his trunk once more and tried not to think about it too hard- they were dead, and he couldn't change that. "I can't close this."

"Get up," Sirius said, and with a flick of his wand everything managed to squeeze itself in just enough for the lid to be shut. "Hm, I was trying to make the clothes fold themselves, but that's good enough, I suppose."

Harry gazed at the closed trunk jealously. "I wish I could use magic over the holidays, it would make things so much easier..."

"Well, the only way the Ministry knows an underage witch or wizard is using magic is if they're the only ones in the household with magical abilities..." Sirius trailed off and paused for a moment to let that sink in. "I'll teach you a few spells, if you want. Your dad and Remus and I actually invented a few in our last couple of years at Hogwarts."

"Pettigrew, too?" Harry asked, and Sirius's face went dark.

Almost instantly it was as though Harry was reliving that day- running, the Dementors swarming, the shouts from up ahead, Pettigrew-

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to bring that up-"

"No," Sirius said, shaking his head. "Don't apologize... he can't hurt us now, can he? And yeah, he did help with a few spells. He wasn't that great, though."

Harry nodded, then asked, "How are we getting to ou- your house?"

He'd almost said our house, but caught himself at the last moment. Maybe he mentally considered Sirius's house to be his own as well, but he wasn't about to say that to his face. The last thing he wanted to hear was that he couldn't live there full time, especially when he wanted to so much. The blood wards protecting Harry each year from Voldemort were lifesavers, but Harry found himself silently wishing that they were at least transferable, or that Sirius was a blood relative.

"How about we mess with your relatives' heads a bit?" Sirius asked. "Have you ever heard of Side Along Apparation?"

Harry shook his head, and Sirius explained the concept to him, finishing with, "And they'll probably be sitting stiffly down there, jumping at every noise, for at least another hour before one of them gets the nerve to come up and find out we've been gone for ages."

"That's brilliant," Harry said with a grin. "But what about all my things?"

Sirius tapped Harry's trunk with the tip of his wand, and it shrunk so that it fit in the palm of his hand. He did this to Hedwig's cage and Harry's broom as well. "Nice, isn't it? We learned that one sixth or seventh year. I'll try and teach it to you over the summer..."

"Brilliant," Harry repeated, and took Sirius's arm.

For a moment he was convinced that something had gone horribly wrong, as his insides felt as though they were being compressed through a long, narrow tube. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over, and Harry found himself standing in the garden behind a small house in the clearing of a lightly wooded area. Sunlight streamed through the trees, and the sound of birds filled the air instead of the occasional passing car back at 4 Privet Drive. There was a rushing noise in the distance, and Harry imagined that there must be a stream nearby.

"It's not the largest of places," Sirius said, gesturing to the house. "But I like it."

"It's amazing," Harry said honestly.

"You haven't even seen the inside yet." Sirius opened the back door and put on the formal air of a butler, but he wasn't able to wipe his smile from his face. "Your room is upstairs. I've left the door open."

Harry stepped into the kitchen, which seemed larger than it really was due to several large windows. The entire lower floor was very open- a large wooden archway led from the kitchen to the living room instead of a door, and the furniture was simple but comfortable looking. Once upstairs, Harry knew which room was his instantly. Quidditch posters adorned red and gold walls, and his bedspread was similarly colored. Looking up, Harry saw that on the ceiling there were painted Quidditch players that zoomed around playing an actual game.

"Did you do that?" Harry asked, gesturing to the ceiling as a Chaser tossed the Quaffle through one of the hoops on the far end of the room.

Sirius leaned against the door frame. "Nah, I'm rubbish at stuff like that. I just bought the decals and charmed them up there- they're supposed to look like they've been painted. Is everything all right, then?"

"It's perfect. Sirius, you didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"It was nothing. I was up all last night anyway, so it gave me something to do." Sirius sat at the desk and began resizing Harry's possessions back to normal. "There, the trunk should just fit at the foot of the bed... I'm sorry the room's so small. I know it's not much larger than your bedroom at the Dursleys-"

"It's perfect," Harry repeated. "Trust me, Sirius, I've slept in smaller rooms than this."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Harry suddenly wondered if he would wake up at any second and find that he was still at Hogwarts and Sirius Black was still after him. Or worse, he'd wake up in his cupboard and find that there was no magical world at all.

"How about we go flying for a bit?" Sirius asked, pushing himself up. "The Muggle repelling wards are pretty strong, and the nearest village a bit of a hike to begin with."

"Do you have a broom?" Harry asked, reaching for his Firebolt.

"Not yet, but I'm going to buy one soon," Sirius said. "For now I was hoping we could share- the last broom I rode was a Cleansweep Six, and I've been dying to give one of the newer ones a spin."

"Go ahead," Harry said, passing him the broom. He'd missed flying, but a month was a lot shorter than thirteen years. "Enjoy."

"Thanks," Sirius said, grinning at him and bounding down the stairs like Dudley at Christmas.

Harry paused before following him- the room was perfect, but he couldn't help but feel a bit nervous that all this wasn't going to last, and at any moment everything might come down like a house of cards. Pushing his unease aside, he forced himself to join his godfather downstairs.

Sirius sat on the back step, watching the trees sway in the wind. It hadn't rained since the storm earlier in the week, but the wind was picking up in such a way that it was clear that it would start again soon. He couldn't sleep, instead having had nightmares about James and Lily, which had segued into ones about Pettigrew and the Dementors. But he wasn't going to think about that, because he never let himself think about that, and this was no time to start.

It wasn't quite as easy as that. Before long Sirius found himself remembering Wormtail's unseeing eyes as the Dementor pulled back, just as James and Lily's had been in death, but different. Wormtail wasn't dead- he was worse than dead. And as much as Sirius hated him for what he'd done, the idea that his soul was simply gone was enough to horrify anyone.

He was only thirty-four, but Sirius only had two friends left- Remus and Harry. And things were far from normal with Remus, what with his thinking his friend had been a spy for Voldemort and Remus thinking he'd been a mass murderer. Sirius couldn't forgive himself for that, and he knew Remus felt the same way. That, and as much as he hated to admit it, he did resent him a bit. It was his own fault for switching to Wormtail as the Secret Keeper, but part of him wished Remus had known and not just believed that everything was his fault.

But it was all his fault, wasn't it? He hadn't trusted Remus, and after all this time he honestly wasn't sure why. There had been a fight, and things had been said, and-

Before he could bring all those memories back to the surface, Sirius transformed into a dog. He was trying to cut back on doing that, but the relief was so instantaneous he couldn't help himself. He knew that he was Sirius and that he was actually a human, but he'd forgotten why he was upset. There was no reason to be upset if he didn't know the reason, right? And relaxing on the grass was so much better than worrying...

There was a faint noise at the door, and Sirius looked up to see James. No- not James, it was his son- Sirius shook his head back and forth, vaguely aware that something had happened to James long ago. He didn't know what it was that had happened, but if he transformed back into a human it would come back to him. Sirius didn't think he wanted to know.

Harry sat on the step, and Sirius padded over next to him and wagged his tail appreciatively when his was rewarded with a scratch behind the ears.

"You have to teach me how to do that," Harry said, and while Sirius understood what he was saying he had difficulty fully processing it.

Reluctantly, he turned back to a human, but now that he wasn't alone he found that he didn't feel nearly as bad as he had before. "It's difficult as hell, and Dumbledore would have my head."

"You're letting me do magic when I'm not supposed to," Harry reminded him.

"There's a difference between casting a few spells here and there and becoming an illegal Animagus. What are you doing up so late, anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep," Harry said with a shrug. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep either." Shaking his head, he said, "It seems so unreal sometimes. That I'm not in Azkaban anymore."

"I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and find out you're still after me," Harry said matter-of-factly. "That, or I'll be ten and at the Dursleys, and not a wizard at all."

"You're here, though. It's all real," Sirius reassured him. "And I'm here. We're not at the Dursleys or in Azkaban anymore."

Harry nodded and hunched forward, folding his legs underneath him. "Thanks for letting me stay with you, Sirius."

Sirius patted him on the back and looked up at the sky. The trees blocked some of the stars, but a large chunk of the night sky was still visible. In Azkaban the clouds had blocked the stars at all times. Every so often everything felt so intensely real, and at times like these Sirius felt as though he was going to be washed away by it all. Everything was so open and free, and after twelve years in a tiny cell with no company aside from the Dementors it was enough to render him speechless.

"You were good at pranks, right?" Harry asked, oblivious. "Maybe you could teach me some. I won't do any of them, but it'll be fun to beat the twins at their own game once in a while..."

"Sure," Sirius responded once he'd found his voice. It came out a bit more high pitched than he'd intended, but Harry didn't seem to notice. "Not tomorrow, though. Dumbledore's dropping by to make sure we've settled in."

Sirius always felt like a boy at Hogwarts when he was around Dumbledore. Then again, he still felt as though he was in his early twenties, so it really wasn't that strange a feeling. It was only when he caught the occasional glimpse of himself in the mirror that Sirius realized just how much time had passed. It wasn't a pleasant feeling- he hadn't seen his reflection at all during those twelve years in Azkaban, and the first time he saw himself upon escaping he'd been horrified. He still avoided looking in mirrors.

"No problem. We have the whole summer," Harry said with a shrug. Glancing up, he frowned at the wind and said, "D'you think it's going to rain?"

Sirius nodded. His heart rate had gone down a bit and he was beginning to feel a bit closer to normal. "Yeah. We should go inside, it looks like it's going to be a big one- the trees weren't swaying that hard before."

"I hope it'll be over by tomorrow," Harry said as they walked in to the kitchen. "I was planning on flying..."

Closing the door behind them, Sirius said, "Well, even if it doesn't, it'll pass eventually."

Harry nodded and they both started upstairs together as the first raindrops began to fall.