While Movie Harry Being A Clueless Awkward Thingie... He Was Literally How He Was Potrayed After Drinking

You cut onion in my eyes!

Sirius being a super protective older brother.

Sirius having near daily panic attacks after regulus had refused to come with him when he ran away to james’.

Sirius acting like he hates his brother but theres always a twinge of sadness in his eyes whenever hes brought up. Something that only the mauraders can see. Something that they know means sirius still loves his brother and has hope for him.

Sirius having constant dreams about regulus. About what his family does to regulus now that sirius is gone.

Dreams that scarily mimic the way sirius was treated.

Sirius finding out about regulus becoming a death eater and having multiple panic attacks daily.

Sirius muttering in his sleep about “regulus is gonna die”

Sirius never knowing that regulus came around even after his death.

Sirius having more consistent panic attacks after his brothers death. Something he hadnt experienced since he was in school.

Sirius knowing that the one thing the dementors would be able to take from him is his memories of regulus. Memories from when they were still friends.

Sirius being paranoid that those memories would be corrupted by the dementors.

Sirius turning into a dog the mere second that regulus crosses his mind.

Sirius hearing talk about regulus from death eaters in azkaban.

Sirius being flooded with emotion as soon as he gets out of azkaban knowing that he can finally think about regulus.

Regulus immediatley tackling sirius in a hug as soon as he comes to the after life.

Regulus have a panic attack chanting “im sorry” still hugging sirius.

Regulus, calming down, finally being able to explain.

“IM SORRY OK?? BECAUSE YOU WERE SO RIGHT. so so right. I shouldve listened to you siri”.

Sirius only being able to hold regulus so tightly because neither of them were ones for expressing emotions.

Regulus knowing that this meant that sirius wasnt mad.

Regulus still crying, this time happy tears, because sirius wasnt mad! Sirius forgives him!

Sirius knowing he was never truly mad at regulus because he knew what his family was like. He understood wanting his mothers approval even if he did spend his entire life trying to make her as disappointed as possible.

To throw up confetti! Again!

(wrote this for all the sirius + harry fans who were having rough days yesterday ((more than one??? y'all good??)). have some fluff? maybe? i don't even know anymore.)

-

"Budge over," Sirius said as he sat down on the edge of his godson's bed, Harry currently laying in it with a hooded sweatshirt pulled over his head in the dead of summer, and as far as Sirius knew, this had been the outfit of choice for a few days now.

Since Harry had come home from a date and retreated to his bedroom, some melancholic record playing loud enough to signal to Remus and Sirius that something terrible had happened.

The first night Harry had cried.

The second night Harry had shouted at the both of them.

The third night Harry had decided the silent treatment was the best course of action and he was going to stay in his bedroom no matter how many times Sirius offered to buy him anything under the sun or Remus tempted with heartbreak dessert.

"I don't want to talk, Sirius," Harry mumbled, scooting over a minuscule amount to allow his godfather to join him in bed. Sirius took the space though, moving so he could lean against Harry's headboard, one arsecheek on the bed, the other hanging half off.

"Okay, you don't have to," Sirius said, clasping his hands together and resting them on his stomach. "Thought you might like some company though."

"Why would you think that?" He asked roughly, rolling to his side to avoid eye contact or interaction.

"Because you're sad. Because I raised you and know that when you get hurt, you want someone to stay with you. Like when you fell off your bike down that hill?" Harry twisted his neck slightly so he could look at Sirius, "Went too fast...fell so hard. I don't think I've ever ran so quickly in my life to get to you."

"I was fine though...nothing was broken."

"Oh no, but your knees had some bad scrapes on them, a few bruises. I didn't know having something physically broken was the threshold for injury."

"I just mean it wasn't that bad."

"At nine it was. And the whole day you just wanted to be around one of us. Slept in our bed too."

"I'm not nine," Harry muttered, though he moved so he could mimic Sirius's position, sitting up slightly and folding his hands over his stomach, Harry's pointy elbow touching Sirius's.

"You're not, I don't even wish you were anymore, you were a little hellion."

"What? No, I wasn't."

"You used to hang upside down off the third floor, do you remember that? Climb over the railings and hook your feet in and just drop. I'm actually shocked I'm still alive after witnessing that a few times."

Harry cracked a small smile, "Well that was the fun part..."

"Mhmm, I know it was. See? Nothing but trouble," Sirius nudged Harry with this shoulder, noticing that his godson had moved closer to Sirius as he spoke, their elbows overlapping. "But...thing is, even if you had fallen off the railing, or the banister collapsed and you came with it. We'd bandage you up, figure it out, fix the railing. It gets a bit harder when the hurt isn't physical. Nothing's broken, not really, right now and yet..."

"Fucking sucks."

"Broken hearts really fucking suck," Sirius responded, nodding.

"It...just sucks to feel like he didn't want me anymore. What do I do about that?" Harry asked and looked up to Sirius, their shoulders now pressed together. Sirius took a chance, moving one of his arms off his stomach and wrapping it around Harry.

Harry didn't pull away or fidget under the touch. Not a single eye roll.

"You...sit here, and you listen to all the sad music," Sirius started, deciding to leave out the moment in time where he thought he was going to charm Harry's record player off after hearing "I Had a King" for the 30th time, "and you...let someone sit with you until it doesn't hurt so much. Scrapped knees heal, so do hearts."

"You sure?"

"Well the alternative is you being heartbroken for the rest of your life and never leaving your bedroom and I'm okay with that too," Sirius said, "I'll still hang out with you. I'll grow a long white beard sitting here with you."

Harry put his head on Sirius's chest, and Sirius's hand went to the back of Harry's head, resting on messy black hair. "I...I don't think it'll be that long. You know?"

"Yeah."

“are you sure?”

Sirius pauses in front of the stove, pointing his wand at the flame to lower its intensity before turning to face Harry, who’s looking quite nervous. “You know, you’ve asked me that question so many times that I’m beginning to wonder whether you want to me to come to the match.”

Harry flushes. ‘I do want you there! I mean it. It’s just that, if you’re busy or have better things to do, it’s okay if you don’t want to come. Actually, I’m sure you have better things to do, you’ve only just been freed, and you probably want to.. I dunno,. go to the shops or something or-” 

“Can I cut in before your rambling cuts off your oxygen?” Sirius interjects gently. He glances back at the stew bubbling on the stove before returning his gaze to Harry. 

Harry gives him a sheepish smile. “I suppose so.”

Sirius laughs. “Thank you for your graciousness, Your Majesty. Now, it is precisely because I’ve just been freed that I want to come to your match more than anything. I’d much rather support you as a human in the stands as opposed to a dog by the forest. It’s a much better view, you see.” He gives the contents of the pot a quick stir before returning his focus to Harry, his tone turning a bit more serious. “I know we’re new at this. This you and me being a family thing. But I want you to know that I’ll be at all of your games because I want to be there, and I want to cheer you on. I’ve missed out on a lot of your life, and I really don’t plan on voluntarily skiving out on any more. I’m proud of you and want to see you be excellent. And trounce the Slytherins while you’re at it. Got it?”

Harry lets out a small sigh. “Okay. But if you ever have anything better to do, I won’t be mad or anything.”

“I’ll never have anything better to do,” Sirius promises. “You’re quite a brilliant player, mate. There’s not much better entertainment than that. I’d die of boredom if I didn’t come to your matches. You’re even better than your dad was.”

Harry blushes at the praise, but also straightens up a bit with pride. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Sirius assures. “Now come over here and have a taste of this stew. It’s my secret recipe, and I swear you’ll love it.”

GGSB Fest 2024 - The Honor of a Name

@goodgodfathersiriusblack

Prompt Harry's kids

Harry worries about being a parent, but Sirius is there to support him as a good godfather and an even better grandfather.

AO3

***

Harry had been a nervous wreck throughout the pregnancy, even though he wasn’t the one pregnant.  His wife, Luna, assured him that they would be good parents, even if they hadn’t quite been raised by good parents.  Yes, Luna had her father around, but he was … not the greatest, loving though.  Harry technically raised by the Dursleys (who sucked), with some support by Sirius but between being on the run and dying and coming back later… well, there wasn’t consistent parenting.  

At least he’s trying now.

Throughout Harry’s many, many nights of waking him up and telling him about how he couldn’t do this.  He hadn’t wanted to worry Luna because he knew that Sirius would be able to calm him down, but now, she’s in labor and he’s freaking out and he can’t breathe and it’s –

“Hey, I’m here, Harry.”

Harry looks up from where he was sitting outside her room – she said he was freaking her out and he needed to calm down outside.

“Oh, Sirius, thank Merlin – I can’t – I can’t do this.  I’m not ready to be a father!” Harry practically yells, earning looks from the people in the vicinity.  

Sirius sits next to him and puts an arm around his shoulders.  “Listen to me, Kid.  No one ever thinks they’re ready and I get it.  You haven’t had the best examples for parents when you were younger, but – but – you are an incredible young man and you and Luna will make wonderful parents.”

“How can you say that when you don’t know –”

“I do know, though, because I know you and you are an incredible young man that has been through a lot – you manage to adapt to any situation and thrive – the same will be true for this, I promise.”

Harry looks up at him and sees sincerity in his eyes.  “I can’t do it alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Sirius says.  “This baby is going to have two wonderful parents, two grandfathers and a whole bunch of Weasleys to help you out.”

Harry grins and lets out a chuckle.  “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, of course.”

“Now, go in there and keep your wife calm – it’s what she needs from you right now.”

“Of course.”

Harry gives him a hug and says, “You’ll stay?”

“Of course.  Anything for you, kid.”

***

Two hours later, a very tired looking Harry appears in the doorway.  “Would you like to meet my son?”

Sirius grins.  “Naturally.”

He follows Harry into the room, where Luna is looking just as tired, but happy.  She’s holding a little boy that looks remarkedly like Harry – those Potter genes are something special.

“We have someone we’d like you to meet,” Luna says, “Would you like to hold him?”

“Of course, of course.” 

He takes the baby in his arms and can’t help thinking about Harry when he was born.  “He looks just like you, Harry.”

Harry grins.  “And like his grandfather, James.  Who he’s named after.”

“Baby James,” Sirius says, looking up to spare them a smile.  “I love it.”

“You’ll love his middle name even more,” Luna says.  “Harry, would you like to…”

Harry clears his throat nervously, causing Sirius look up.  

“We’d like to name him after you – James Sirius Potter,” Harry says, looking at him hopefully.  

“Oh… oh, Harry… Luna… really?” Sirius says stuttering.  “That’s such an honor…”

“An honor that you deserve.”

Sirius looks down at the baby in his arms, and smiles, nodding.  “Thank you.  I only hope that I continue to do the honor right.”

“You will.”

***

James Sirius Potter is the light of all of their lives, and Harry can’t help grinning at seeing Sirius so full of grandfatherly cheerfulness.  It’s a blessing and a curse.  

There’s a part of him that wishes he’d gotten that with Sirius, but he loves what he has with him, too, it’s different, but lovely.

Just as he’s about to call them in for lunch, Luna comes out of the house where she’d been resting.  Heavily pregnant and meant to be on bed rest, Harry immediately worries, “Is something wrong?”

“I am in labor,” Luna groans.  

Harry nods.  “Better get you to the hospital,” she nods and wobbles away to the car.  “Sirius!”

Sirius turns at the yell and can immediately see the stress on Harry’s face.

“Luna’s in labor, will you –”

“Take care of my grandson?  Yes.”

Harry lets out a relieved breath.  “Thanks.”

“Just worry about your wife, I’ve got everything handled here.”

“You’re the best,” Harry says before disappearing after his wife.  

Time to have another baby.

***

Sirius is grinning as he holds three-year-old James in his arms, and looking at the happy, yet exhausted Harry and Luna.  

The pink bundle in Harry’s arms looking remarkedly like Luna.  

“So, what’s this one’s name?”

“Lily Pandora Potter,” Harry says, grinning.  “We weren’t sure which should go first, but Luna insisted.  

Sirius smiles.  “She’s beautiful.”

“But she’s early, so she and Luna are going to have to stay a few days, would you mind…”

“Watching my favorite grandson – I can say that, ‘cause I only have one – while you’re gone?  Not at all.” Sirius states before turning to James in his arms.  “Jamie and I will have all sorts of fun, right, Jamie?”

“Yeah!”

“There you have it,” Sirius states.  He reaches out his free arm to squeeze Harry’s shoulder.  “I got this; you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

***

Harry smiles as he sits beside Sirius in his backyard a few years later.  Sirius had been a delightful godsend.  Always there with advice, willing to listening about Harry’s woes, or just to give Harry (and Luna) a break – the perfect grandparent. 

“You’ve done well with them, you know,” Sirius offers as he watches Luna chasing them around.  “In a few years, they’ll be off at Hogwarts, and everything will be great.”

“Everything is great – partially thanks to you,” Harry says, smiling.  “Best grandfather ever.”

Sirius grins.  “Thanks, kiddo.”

“Anytime.”

dude do tag me!

I just saw this on pintrest and everyone should know about this

(Not mine btw)

James: do you want to go around the world bro?

Sirius: yeah bro

James: same bro *goes around Sirius*

Sirius: why did you go around me bro?

James: because you are my world bro

Sirius: bro

im rusty. so rusty. and also extremely late for christmas. i may as well have waited 350 days until the holidays came around again, but im trying to write more this year, so hear you go? eek im nervous. please pardon any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes. enjoy! also tumblr doesn't seem to have line breaks so sorry if any time jumps are confusing.

also a warning for language and mentions of wanting to step in front of a bus as an extreme response to being embarrassed. i swear this is all fluff otherwise.

Harry doesn't know what to get Sirius for Christmas.

Well, to clarify, Harry doesn't know if he can get Sirius anything adequately worth a damn. Because how can a game (magical or not) or piece of art or trinket or any sort of anything say hey Merry Christmas and by the way, thanks for saving me from my horrible abusive household where I lived in a cupboard and for wrangling a fucked up wizarding judicial system so that it both exonerates you from a murder you didn't commit and lets you adopt a kid you only properly met six months ago.

Harry would also like the gift (if he ever manages to find something) to say also thank you for giving me my own bedroom and for making pancakes every Saturday morning and for letting me visit my friends and for playing two-man Quidditch with me and for ruffling my hair and for always letting me pick the film that we watch and for telling me stories about my parents and for always being just enough and for not pushing me when I have nothing to say and for calling me by my name instead of shouting boy angrily-

Harry figures that he should cut himself off there. Any more gratitudes and the gift will literally be impossible to find, lest it be the size of Hogwarts in an effort to cram any and all unspoken messages Harry doesn't have the courage to voice out loud.

So Harry does what he usually does in a sticky situation. He turns to his friends.

No clue mate, Ron writes. I normally get Mum perfume and Dad whatever Muggle trinket he's been obsessing over. So unless Sirius wants a rubber duck, I probably won't be much help. But you could probably give him one and he'd be ecstatic. You're pretty much his favorite person right now.

Ah bloody hell. Do you think I should get Sirius something as a thanks for Pig?

Even though he's sure Ron's right (although Padfoot might enjoy a rubber duck more than Sirius), Harry doesn't have time to add Ron's own gift conundrum to his list of problems, so he turns to Hermione, who ends up being a bit more helpful.

I know you said that Sirius was interested in curse-breaking and how it can be used to help with cleaning up Grimmauld Place, so maybe something pertaining to that? A book or starter kit? Or perhaps something a bit more personal, something he couldn't just buy in a shop. Don't worry too much, Harry. He'll love whatever it is you give him because it's you.

Harry disregards the book suggestion immediately. Sirius does read; over the holiday break the two of them have taken to sitting quietly on opposite sides of the couch in the sitting room, reading books from the Black family library and munching on the latest treat Mrs. Weasley has sent them while flames blaze in the fireplace, only breaking the peaceful quiet occasionally to share whatever interesting passage has just been read. But Harry doesn't want to give a present that reminds Sirius of the exhausting work they do every day trying to make Grimmauld Place a habitable home.

Hermione's other suggestion, however, gets Harry thinking. Something he couldn't just buy in a shop. That obviously eliminates all of the last-resort items Harry had on his mental list, as they were dumb things he had planned to frantically order by mail once he gave up on the idea of finding something good enough for Sirius. But it also opens up a new idea, something that Harry himself had appreciated when he had received it a few years ago.

He begins firing off letters and mail-in order forms with an efficiency Hermione would admire. The owls return in quick fashion, up to three or four a day. Sirius doesn't notice anything at first, but when Hedwig taps on the kitchen window for the second time that day during breakfast, he gets up and lets her in with a raised eyebrow at Harry.

"Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment?" he asks, somewhat incredulously, peering at the label on the package. "Harry, love, you know we can just go to Diagon Alley whenever you'd like. No need to rely on owl post if you're running low on supplies."

Harry flushes and snatches the small, soft package from Hedwig, stuffing it under his armpit and looking determinedly at his porridge. He hopes he doesn't have ACTUALLY IT'S PART OF YOUR CHRISTMAS PRESENT written all over his face.

"It's fine," he shrugs, aiming for casual nonchalance with his tone. "It's just a small thing. No point in going all the way down to Diagon Alley. Besides, the crowds would drive you crazy. They'd probably give you a concussion trying to get a picture."

Sirius grimaces, probably thinking of their last attempt to go for an ice cream at Fortescue's shortly before Harry had left for the fall term. They'd returned to Grimmauld Place ice cream-less and with a giant tear down the front of Harry's robes.

"Nothing a Glamour Charm wouldn't fix," he responds, grabbing his own empty bowl and bringing it to the sink. "Anyway, it's not fair for us to be shut up in this damned house because some people can't behave themselves in public. You just let me know whenever you want to go out, alright? I promise I won't breathe down your neck while you look at potions ingredients and whatnot. Even if they all suspiciously happen to be ingredients for an Enlarging Potion."

He manages to ruffle Harry's hair before the boy squawks out a "Sirius!" and darts out the kitchen, cackling in response to Harry's sputtered "I'm not... I wouldn't... SIRIUS!"

As Christmas approaches, Harry begins to stay up later and later into the night, working frantically to finish Sirius' present. One late night (or early morning, really), he hears a gentle knock on his door. He jumps and shoves the half completed project under his comforter.

"Come in!"

Sirius peeks his head through the cracked open door. "Are you alright? I was getting a glass of water and noticed your light was still on."

Harry nods, trying to convey a casualness he doesn't feel beneath the stress of wanting to have the present ready by Christmas morning. "Yes. Fine. I was just... reading." He reaches for his nightstand and holds up the latest book he's knicked from the Black family library for this exact purpose.

Sirius raises an eyebrow. "You sure? I've read that one before. Couldn't last more than thirty seconds at a time without falling asleep."

Harry glances at the cover. He hasn't even cracked it open yet. "It's actually quite interesting. I've always been fascinated by... the evolution of wizarding legalese from 1500 to 1800." He internally winces as the subject matter is finally made apparent to his sleep-deprived brain.

Sirius pauses, clearly sensing that something's up. He must decide that now's not the time to probe further because he says, "Alright. You're stronger than me, then. Let me know if you need anything though." He begins to retreat and close the bedroom door but stops right before he actually does. "I forgot, " he murmurs, opening the door wide and stepping fully into Harry's bedroom. He approaches Harry where he's sitting on his bed. Harry tries to discretely shove the half-finished present further under the covers. "You had a letter downstairs. We must have missed it earlier. I only saw it when I was getting water." He hands over a rather thick envelope to Harry, who flips it over, notes the name of the sender, and smiles, relieved.

Sirius lets out a small puff of air, and Harry looks up at the sound. Sirius pastes on a rather strained smile. "Do you often write to Mrs. Weasley?"

Harry's brain scrambles for a response. "Erm. Not really."

He doesn't say anything else, unsure how to explain away the situation convincingly. A rather awkward silence settles between them. Sirius looks as if he's summoning the courage to say something.

Sirius takes a deep breath. "I'm here if you ever want to talk, Harry. I know the Weasley's have always been great to you, and I never want to feel like you're getting that taken away. But, I just want you to know that I'm also here, in addition to them. For anything. No questions asked or judgement cast. Alright?"

The letter slips out of Harry's grip, as he frantically waves his hands in front of him, desperate to correct Sirius' perception of the situation. "Oh, no, Sirius, I know! I swear it. We were just... planning Ron's birthday present this year. They wanted to throw him a party." The fib comes easily.

Sirius visibly relaxes. "Oh. Ron's birthday's not until April though."

"Yes," Harry's brain scrambles for an explanation. "But you know how Mrs. Weasley is. Always trying to stay ahead. She's already starting to plan the menu. Fretting between bacon sandwiches or chicken legs for the main course."

Sirius shakes his head, a genuine smile starting to form on his face. "Well you know my vote is always for chicken legs. Assuming I'm invited of course."

"You know you're always invited. Mrs. Weasley always wants an opportunity to make sure you're feeding me properly," Harry rolls his eyes. "And Ron thinks you're pretty cool too. Even though you broke his leg."

Sirius gives him a mock scowl. "Hey now! I wasn't in my right mind that night. And I gave him an owl to make up for it! Even though I was probably doing myself more of a favor than him. That damned owl was driving me mad."

Harry giggles, and Sirius' smile grows wider at the sound. He lets out a dramatic sigh and leans over to ruffle Harry's hair, ignoring the sounds of protest that come in response to the action.

"Alright then, love. I'm off to bed. Shout if you need anything, and I'll be here in faster than you can say chicken legs. You hear me?"

Harry nods. "Yes sir."

Sirius scowls for real this time. "None of that now, remember?"

Harry nods again, this time rather sheepishly. Sirius bends over to kiss his forehead before heading out of the bedroom, shouting a "Good night!" over his shoulder before he closes the door behind him.

Harry sighs in relief, pulls the present out from underneath the comforter, tears open Mrs. Weasley's letter, and gets back to work.

The morning of the 25th is bright and cold.

Harry is a ball of nerves as the breakfast plates get cleared away and the two of them prepare to go to the sitting room to open presents. Padfoot had barged into Harry's room at half past seven, barking loudly and leaping onto the bed, nearly giving Harry a heart attack in the process. He'd only finished Sirius' present in the wee hours of the morning and had barely managed to shove it into his desk drawer before he'd fallen asleep.

Sirius had dragged Harry into the kitchen for special Christmas chocolate chip pancakes and hot chocolate but had only allowed Harry to start eating once he agreed to don a ridiculously oversized Santa hat that matched the one Sirius had on his own head.

"If I'd known you liked Christmas so much, I'd have taken you to the Muggle mall to get a picture with Santa," Harry grumbles only half-heartedly as he watches the milk heat up on the hob. Sirius was adamant about making hot chocolate the old-fashioned way.

Sirius laughs loudly and hooks his arm around Harry's neck, pulling him close and planting a kiss on his forehead with a loud smack. "It's our first Christmas together, kiddo! First of many. You can get past your anti-morning attitude for that, can't you?"

"I gueeeeeeees," Harry mock-whines, drawing out the word as he adds the chopped chocolate to the steaming milk. He's secretly pleased that Sirius seems to somewhat enjoy his company. It shows he's not such a terrible charge.

"Thank you for your sacrifice," Sirius states dramatically. He gives Harry one last squeeze before releasing him. "Now come on, let's get to presents. I call going first!" He darts off to the sitting room where, overnight, a large pile of presents has piled in front of the eight-foot tall tree Sirius had dragged home one afternoon (with lots of swearing).

Harry gulps nervously as he pours hot chocolate into two mugs and tops them both with a handful of marshmallows. His hands are slightly shaking as he brings them both to the sitting room. Sirius is poking around the heap of gifts as he enters the room, and Harry spots the hastily wrapped, lumpy package he completed only a few hours ago.

Please like it, please like it, please like it, he silently begs as he sets the mugs on the coffee table. The sight of the gift is almost nauseating, and he keeps his eyes fixed on the hot chocolate.

Sirius turns at the sound to spot Harry and grins. "Alrighty, kiddo, what do you want to unwrap first? I did go a bit overboard this year, you'll have to forgive me. But there's plenty here from your friends!" He's practically vibrating with excitement.

Harry straightens his back and clears his throat. "Actually, do you mind if you do the opening first?"

Sirius pauses. "Are you sure? I swear mine are quite good."

Harry nods vigorously. "Yes. You can start with mine. It's right on top. The green wrapping." Let's just get this over with, he thinks.

Sirius picks up the package and shakes it gently. It makes no noise, and Harry can't help but let out a chuckle despite the knots in his stomach. Sirius grins at him and begins to carefully unwrap the gift.

Harry's legs suddenly feel like treacle tart filling. He lowers himself onto the couch so he doesn't pass out.

The wrapper paper gently falls to the ground, revealing a mound of knit material. Sirius unravels the pile to reveal a rather lumpy, oversized navy blue sweater with a slightly misshapen black dog woven onto the front.

Sirius doesn't say anything.

Harry's heart drops to his stomach. He opens his mouth, desperate to explain away the situation. "It's uh... it's... erm... it's a sweater? I made it?" As if that wasn't fucking obvious, he internally snarls at himself. He shakes his head, trying to organize his thoughts. "Yes, I, um, I made it. That's uh... that's Padfoot. On the front of it. I knitted it."

Sirius doesn't say anything.

Harry's words start coming out faster and faster, hoping something comes out that remedies this clusterfuck of an event. "Mrs. Weasley helped me. She sent me instructions. And the patterns? That 's why she was sending me so many letters. I didn't know how to do it. They aren't throwing a party for Ron."

Sirius still doesn't say anything.

Oh fuck! Harry thinks wildly. He's probably livid I lied. Oh fuck fuck fuck. "I'm sorry I lied to you! I just wanted it to be a surprise," he manages to get out. "That's why I was ordering so much through owl post. I had to get the yarn and the needles. And I kept having to order more yarn because I kept getting frustrated and messing up a lot. I didn't want you to know. Until now, that is. Obviously."

Sirius. Still. Doesn't. Say. Anything.

Harry wants to crawl into a hole and die. But for some stupid, idiotic reason, he keeps speaking. "I wasn't sure if you'd like the color? I actually realized that I don't know what your favorite color is. But whenever Mrs. Weasley makes one for me or for the Weasley kids, she usually does our favorite color. Or house colors. But I figured you have lots of things in Gryffindor colors? Like your wand holster. And then I noticed that you wear a lot of navy. So I thought that might be nice."

If Sirius doesn't say anything, Harry just might call the Knight Bus so he can step in front of it. He decides to get everything off of his chest before he has to do so.

"Mrs... uh... Mrs. Weasley made me one," he explains softly. "My first year. And every year after that. It means a lot to me. I think it was probably the first gift I ever got. And it kind of made me feel like part of their family? A little bit at least. So... so I wanted to give you one. Not from her, of course. But from me. So you could feel like a part of... our family?" His sentence embarrassingly ends like a question, so he hastily tacks on, "If you want to, of course."

Sirius finally moves, and Harry shuts his mouth. He gently sets the sweater down on the armchair next to him, walks over to where Harry is sitting, and pulls him up into the tightest, fiercest hug Harry has ever experienced.

Neither say anything for a few moments. Until Harry can't deal with not being able to breathe and squeaks out, "Uh? Sirius? I can't really inhale."

Sirius releases him quickly and takes a step back. "Sorry."

Harry feels awkward again. He clears his throat, hoping to fill the silence with something. "I hope you like it. But I know it's not done very well. So I can take it apart if you'd rather that. The shop said they'd take the yarn back as long as it wasn't too worn."

Sirius' head snaps up. "What? Harry, my love, I don't not like it. I love it."

Harry's mouth goes dry. "What?"

Sirius gives him a small smile. His eyes look suspiciously glassy. "Harry. You made this for me. You made this for me! It's my favorite color, and it's got me on it! Of course I love it. Not just because you took the time and the effort to make something for me. Because, my goodness, how do you even start with something like this? It must have taken you ages. But also because, well, you said it yourself. I mean, I already felt like part of the same family with the whole adoption bit and knowing you since you were a baby and whatnot, but it's always nice to know you feel the same. And I'm so honored to be a part of your family. Always will be. You have to know that, alright?" Sirius presses their foreheads together. "Alright?"

Harry nods, feeling a little something catch in his throat. He nods.

"Thank you for my gift," Sirius says softly. "I love it. No talk about talking it apart. I'll be proper mad if you do, you hear me?"

Harry nods again. Sirius releases him. He grabs the sweater from the armchair and pulls it over his head. The hem is uneven and the dog looks more like a cat once the sweater settles on his body, but Sirius only looks down at it and grins.

"Now come on, it's your turn to open presents. I don't think any of mine are as good as a handmade sweater, but I hope you like them anyway. And that's got me thinking, we ought to do a Christmas card no? Especially now that I've got a nice sweater on. Mrs. Weasley might tear up at the sight of a photo of the two us. Come on, come on, pick a present."

Harry rolls his eyes without any real heat behind the action. And he doesn't say anything later when he feels a burst of pride when he sees the photo they take in front of the Christmas tree that afternoon, Sirius wearing the sweater with the biggest, proudest smile Harry has ever seen.

He just bottles the feeling and hopes to remember it forever.

exactly! Why would you hate on my poor dear !?

I’ve never personally interacted with anyone in the marauders fandom who hated Sirius. The fact that some people allegedly do is completely baffling…

If you people do exist (do you? Do you really?) can you drop into my inbox anon if you want, and explain why????

From a confused and bewildered Sirius fan

this is so me lmao

sirius: i’m so mysterious

also sirius 10 minutes after meeting anyone: -and i think that’s the day my mom stopped loving me

can someone tag me the name of this fic pls?

picturing harry and sirius bonding moments right now because i’m having a terrible time and i need to distract myself from real life bullshit

- cooking together. sirius learnt some from effie yeaaaaaaars ago but time + azkaban has effectively taken him back to square one. harry, who grew up having to cook for the dursleys and act as sous chef for petunia all the time, is very proficient. he’s got all the basics down pat (bc efficiency was—necessary when cooking for vernon and dudley) and now that he can, he’s not afraid of experimenting and trying things out. harry teaching sirius little tips and tricks, both of them spending hours in the kitchen just getting to know each other in a way they hadn’t been able to so far.

- sirius and harry going out into the muggle world. it’s an act of rediscovery for both of them. harry, who’d never been allowed to go out, and sirius, who’s last excursion was with james before azkaban the potters had gone into hiding. they do all the cringy tourist shit like going on the london eye, taking a photo in front of the buckingham palace, wearing trashy ‘l<3nd<3n’ t-shirts, the whole deal. eating greasy fish and chips, and waffles on a stick, and everything in between.

- harry taking padfoot out for a walk (bc sometimes sirius needs to just,,,unwind), playing fetch and jumping into fountains. padfoot chasing pigeons and harry laughing his head off. laying down, exhausted, on the grass, harry fully draped over padfoot’s back.

- stargazing. sirius pointing to different stars, connecting it to people, and telling harry about funny, mildly concerning, black family history that operated as nighttime stories for anyone who grew up in that household. it’s all gruesome tales about murder and betrayal and illegal magic usage and dark magics. harry is so concerned for his godfather like ‘wtf how did u turn out ok??’ and sirius is just like ‘are u absolutely sure about that 🤭’

anyway. i just want slice-of-life bonding to make up for 12 years of separation. sirius getting to know his godson as a teen/young adult instead of the babbling toddler he was used to. harry basically getting to know him for the first time. not having to worry about shit like the war and voldy and dementors, just having fun and living their best lives.