It's finals week for me, so I don't have anything new for you on this front, but in honor of our fave kiddo, here's a list of most? all? of my raising Harry content in celebration of his birthday. As usual (as always, honestly) many thanks to @impishtubist for letting me run away with her prompts for months on end to write about Sirius and his son, she's the best.
Wolfstar Raising Harry (AACU)
A Game of Chess
Summer of 1994
No One’s Ever Said That to Me Before
I Can’t Lose Another One
Never Too Old
Through Hell or High Water
You’re Not Your Father
Like Father, Like Son
"Studying”
Grieving in D-Flat, A Requiem in Nine Movements
Wolfstar Raising Harry (not AACU/chronological order)
Should I Do What You Do?
Name Changes
Mimosas for Children, or, How to Parent When the Manual Got Lost in the Post
hey imp ! so i’m desperately in the mood for some wolfstar raising harry content and you are THE person for it!! would you have any recs ?? i know i can trust you to have read the good stuff <3
Oh no one of my favorite writers is asking me for recs and I have suddenly forgotten everything I have ever read oh no😬
Followers, I'm gonna rely on you to help fill in the blanks here and rec anything I miss, because I know I'm going to miss a lot.
Okay, darling, here we go!
First of all, check out my #braintwin @greyeyedmonster-18 for Wolfstar raising Harry content - she not only has a bunch of fics on her pinned post, but also lots of drabbles that are Tumblr Exclusive.
Also check out @padfootastic and @zazima and @twentysevensummers for beautiful Sirius & Harry content (you know Sirius & Harry is my ultimate weakness, so I can't not give them a shout-out.)
Some other Wolfstar raising Harry fics:
A Life More Ordinary
Stealing Harry
Den Animals
The Maddest House
Stronger At the Broken Places
The Road Reluctantly Traveled
Honeydew
First Birthdays are for the Parents
Put to Flight and Holding Out
Going on Fifteen
Unified Theory
Dogfathers' Day
Home We'll Go
Common Woodbrown
A Store of Happiness
the dogfather
Okay you know what, this is getting out of hand 😂 These fics will give you an excellent start, and if you want more, here are all of my bookmarks that are tagged with both "Sirius Black/Remus Lupin" and "Harry Potter", which should give you a lot more Raising Harry content.
I encourage others to reblog with their own recs! Especially if you have links to fics on fanfiction.net or LiveJournal that do not appear on AO3.
I got your submission, and yes! Sirius should have stayed with Remus after POA! It makes no sense that he didn't. And Dumbledore definitely could have made it safe enough for Harry to stay with them - he just chose not to because he is an asshole.
The worst haha I just want to live in your universes!
Pleaseeee write the fic where Harry is weepy during owls and mirror calls Sirius so Remus collects him and let him just crash with them in the big bed until he’s feeling better. 😭😍
It wasn't often Sirius got mid-day mirror calls from his godson, let alone mid-day mirror calls more than once a day, but two weeks before OWL's seemed to be the exception to this. Harry had already called him in the morning, sometime after breakfast with dark circles under his eyes, rumpled robes, and dark hair that was messier than normal, explaining how he couldn't find his favorite quill and he searched the dormitory but it wasn't anywhere and he was pretty sure he left at the library so someone else was using his quill, in a single breath, his voice getting progressively higher. Sirius had been just finishing his own breakfast, getting ready to apparate to the ministry for another exciting day of legal paperwork. He hadn't planned on taking an extra 10 minutes to calm down a certain Harry James Potter.
"Do you have another quill you can use--"
"This one was my favorite and I left it in the library. I think."
"Was it your only quill?"
"Sirius!" Harry whined, running a hand through his hair quickly, "I told you, it was my favorite!"
Sirius paused for a moment, recognizing the tell-tale signs of a tantrum. One that happened when Harry was overtired; like all the ones Sirius had waded through over that past summer when Harry lied about going to bed, only to read under his covers into odd hours of the night. "How's this...you see Remus today, right?"
"Yeah, I have him second," Harry told him.
"He has a bunch of special quills. There's one I like to use when I'm there to write letters. You can use that one, it's really nice. And then...after classes, you can look in the library. Maybe it's right where you left it."
"Maybe."
"Okay?"
Harry nodded, exhaling, "Okay. Thanks. Sorry."
"No worries. Have a good day, babe."
The term of endearment had Harry rolling his eyes before the mirror went dark, and Sirius hadn't planned on revisiting the conversation. Until it was barely after four, and Harry's voice was heard from his desk drawer as he rifled through an old case files, reading through them as he prepared for another hearing. Sirius had only left Harry waiting for a second, before another shout came, this one sounding more urgent.
"Sirius, hello, where are you!"
"Is everything okay?" Sirius asked, taking in the sight of Harry's frantic face. According to the time, he had just finished classes for the day. What could be so--
"We revised in Herbology today and I think I'm going to fail. I think I am. Professor Sprout was talking so fast and Neville--NEVILLE was confident about all his answers and I was just sitting there, not understanding anything. I got everything wrong, and I'm going to fail and on top of that, my shoe got wet in Care of Magical Creatures and I've been walking around on a wet sock all day."
"Wow, okay," Sirius said, taking a moment to gather his bearings, running a hand through his hair, "Eventful day it seems, did--"
"I have to go to the library tonight for my quill and what if they're all out of the Herbology books? What if there isn't anymore? What if everyone else in this stupid castle is also a bloody tosspot and needed all the books--"
"Harry, take a breath for me." Harry proceeded to take the quickest breath known to man, inhaling in and out shortly, "Okay, a deeper breath. Slow, please."
"I don't have time for slow breathing, I'm going to fail and I'll be in your attic and you'll have to tell everyone that you got a dunderhead of a kid and--"
"Harry, Harry, my love, mon coeur," Sirius responded softly. This spiral. The babble. The redness in Harry's eyes and the way his voice warbled at the end of his words were all too familiar. Harry was on the verge of tears and had been all day. "Do you have plans this weekend?"
"Failing my OWL prep."
"How about you come home? I have loads of books on Herbology, I'll help you revise."
"I don't have time for that, Sirius! Come on, I can't just take a weekend home."
"Then...how about the three of us go to dinner tonight? Help you get your mind off it. I'll bring some books for you, you can have something other than the rotation of Great Hall Dinners? Humor your godfather who misses you terribly?"
Harry sighed, "I guess..." Finally, Harry was able to take a slower breath in, the movement on either side of his head that Sirius could see through the mirror stopping, indicating that Harry had stopped his walk through the halls. "Okay, no you're right. Dinner would be nice." Harry's posture straightened slightly, the thought of dinner and time out of the castle. "I'll meet you at Moony's? What time? I think I'm starving, actually."
--
That was all it took. A trip outside the castle and out to dinner, and Harry had changed his mind about coming home for the weekend. Sirius cleared it with McGonagall, his godson's Head of House making note that Mr. Potter nearly cried when he dropped his notes on the ground the other day and Sirius couldn't even pretend he was surprised. Flashback to over summer when Harry had literally cried over spilled milk while preparing tea, Sirius coming into the kitchen to see two puddles on the floor, one of milk and one of his godson, wiping tears and seemingly forgetting how to wipe up messes.
But now they were in Number 12, after a full meal, Harry immediately going to put the kettle on, rambling about how he should really go through his Potions notes before going to bed.
"Has he slept?" Sirius asked Remus when they had gotten a moment alone in the sitting room.
"Do any fifth years sleep? Did we sleep during fifth year?"
"I've never slept longer than four hours a day in my life and you could sleep during a natural disaster."
"Shit, you're right. Did James sleep?"
"James gave himself a bedtime. Of course, James slept."
"Okay, so we give Harry a bedtime. Solved. Good luck with that" Remus said kissing Sirius on the side of the head and Sirius laughed, turning his head to meet his husband's mouth.
And Harry did review his Potion's notes. Half of Sirius was insanely proud at how much effort Harry was putting into his examinations and the other half worried Harry was going to go bald by the end of the month at how much he was pulling at his hair. Remus had already slipped upstairs as the clock approached 11, and Sirius bolstered himself for a shouting match as he walked into the kitchen.
"Hey, it's getting late."
"Hm?" Harry hummed without looking up.
"I think we can call it a night, babe."
"I have two more sections and then--"
"Harry, I think you're all set for the night."
Tired green eyes looked up at Sirius, away from the page, "It's fine, Sirius. I have two more sections to get through."
"It'll be there tomorrow, I promise. All weekend even."
"Do you want me to pass these stupid exams or not?"
"I couldn't care less if you passed them. You're exhausted, and it's time for bed."
"I'm fifteen."
"Yes, and you have a bedtime."
"I wouldn't have come home if I knew you were going to make me go to bed so early. No one cares at Hogwarts. No one even checks, Hermione's been up past midnight and there's--" Harry started pushing back from his chair roughly, the legs scraping along the floor.
"You can crash with us if you'd like. Or, I'll kick Remus out and we'll crash in the bedroom down here. Big bed all to yourself."
Harry was silent for a moment but closed his Potions book roughly to make sure Sirius knew he was still unhappy at the idea of bedtime. A tired, worn-out argument between them that had Sirius wishing Hogwarts was more strict on the whole concept of a goodnight sleep now.
"Icanstaywithyou," Harry muttered, leaving his materials on the kitchen table purposefully as he strode past Sirius to go up the stairs. His godson not picking up after himself was a conversation for tomorrow.
--
Sirius woke up the next morning with Harry still plastered between himself and Remus, covers pulled up so high they covered everything but the tops of their heads. Dark messy curls next to grey-brown.
Harry had passed out without protest almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Sirius went to brush his teeth and came back into the bedroom to his godson asleep with his glasses on his face.
Sirius was almost hesitant to wake him up. Knowing Harry probably needed more sleep. Also knowing that Harry probably wouldn't be protesting any kind of "accidental" nap this afternoon. But he had promised Harry he'd wake him up when he got up for the day, and he hadn't broken a promise to Harry yet.
Sirius leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of Harry's head, "Wake up, my love," he said softly, and Harry moved almost instantly. Never a heavy sleeper.
"wuh timessit," Harry mumbled sitting up slowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and squinting to try to find Sirius's face in the blurry morning light.
"Almost 8," Sirius told him, unable to stop a hand from attempting to smooth black hair down, "You can sleep if you want to. Books will be there."
Harry yawned and shook his head, "No, mmokay. Thanks," he said, "Merlin, I was tired."
read parts 1-4 here (links to part 4 but the rest are there)
AU in which Jily is still alive but Harry chooses to stay with Wolfstar and everything is worse now.
-
December 1995
James held his arms open as he saw Harry walking towards them off the Hogwarts Express, only to be left standing empty-handed, looking foolish. Like mounting your broom to try to fly, only to realize the hem of your Quidditch robe was caught in something, or your teammate was standing on it as a joke.
It felt terribly unfunny, though, watching his son fly into his best friend's arms before even acknowledging James' existence. He could see the same look plastered all over Lily’s face, trying to bite back disappointment that even after months of exchanging letters, attending Quidditch games, and spontaneous dinners in Hogsmeade as an attempt to clear muddy waters, Harry still ran straight to Sirius. Remus would’ve been next had he been waiting on the platform as well and not finishing up work at school. James got a high five. James was allowed to take Harry's trunk.
“Was the train ride okay?” James asked, trying to catch his son’s gaze that was decidedly looking anywhere but at him and Lily.
“I guess.” Harry shrugged, putting his hands into the pockets of his trousers awkwardly, “Are we going to dinner?”
“I made something special, it’s at home--”
“You mean your house,” Harry corrected him, “It’s not my home.”
“James made dinner, love, and he’s a much better cook than--” Sirius started, his hand pushing back dark hair from Harry’s forehead and out of his eyes. A gesture James wished he could do.
“We always go out when I get back though,” Harry’s voice pitched upwards, dangerously close to a whine as he looked up at Sirius in protest. As if returning to a house with a homecooked meal was a fate worse than death. James was about to open his mouth and tell Harry that they could do whatever he wanted, despite the way Lily’s expression changed at the whining their kid was doing, but Sirius bent down low to say something into Harry’s ear.
It was odd. Really.
James remembered his own father doing something similar when James was a teenager and complained in public spaces. The hand on his shoulders, a gentle but firm voice in his ear to Mind your manners, James. Your mother is just asking a question.
When Harry was born, James saw a life ahead of him, practicing how his own "very stern father" voice would sound. But not Sirius. It was strange to see his best friend be the one to quiet a teenage tantrum. Though it seemed that there hadn't been a warning at all, a smile crossing Harry's face at whatever Sirius had said.
“Really?” asked Harry, turning back to look at Sirius, the four of them walking away from the platform together, tattooed hands still on teenage shoulders.
“Yes, really.” Sirius said, and inclined his head towards James, “You can ask if you don’t believe me.”
“Sirius says the curry recipe he makes was your Mums? And you do it better? Did you make that?”
“I know you wanted it to be a surprise,” Sirius said off-handedly, and James stared in awe for a moment at his best friend. The selflessness; the what’s mine is yours, don’t question this, even after arguing for the past month and cold shoulders and colder showers and crawling his way out of a bottle that James had unintentionally put him into. Perhaps intentionally. Maybe.
“I…did, and it was,” James grinned slowly, “I don’t know about better but…I do know I have loads more recipes.”
“Cool.”
--
Harry had made up every excuse in the book to get Sirius to stay at this house-his house? New? Or temporary? Harry wasn’t sure--as long as he could. But eventually, Harry couldn’t stifle the yawns as the evening got later, and Sirius was giving him the look that meant to take himself up to bed even if James and Lily hadn’t said anything yet. Maybe that would be a benefit.
One home with a bedtime and rules about picking up his towels after he showered.
One house without those things.
Without Sirius and Remus.
Harry wasn’t sure he liked the odds of the trade-off, but let Sirius go anyway determined to be brave and stay put. Because that’s what he had to do. Because he didn’t want Sirius to get in trouble if he somehow insisted on staying the night every night at Number 12. He didn’t want to cause any more trouble than he already had, Harry pretending not to notice the way the air crackled around Remus whenever he brought James and Lily up or the way Sirius was being extra convincing about this new arrangement. Like the way Sirius used to explain maths equations with exuberance when Harry would groan at the kitchen table.
Harry groaned alone in the bedroom that was technically his but also wasn’t, after saying goodnight to James and Lily, wishing Sirius was there to convince him it wasn’t so bad, just one step at a time, Harry. The sheets weren’t as soft. There was no enchanted ceiling to look up at with constellations. There was no Remus and Sirius just downstairs in case anything happened. Not that anything did. Harry rolled around in his bed, on pillows that weren’t broken in and didn’t smell like the soap Sirius used, fighting against his racing heart in the dark.
He was fifteen.
He could do this.
He could fall asleep.
Harry squeeze his eyes shut and gripped at the blanket over his shoulders tightly.
Go to sleep, go to sleep, it’s okay.
Legs kicked under the covers in frustration at the hot tears behind closed eyes.
Stop it.
But he couldn’t, his breathing becoming irregular as he lay frozen in bed clinging to covers that weren’t his own with two people down the hall who also weren’t his. Were this Number 12 and there were worrying things in his mind keeping him from sleeping, Harry would move downstairs and climb into bed between Sirius and Remus. Remus would mumble incoherent nonsense from his slumber, but move his arm so Harry could burrow into his side; Sirius would tell him everything was okay until he could fall asleep, even if it took hours. Even if it meant Sirius didn’t sleep himself.
Harry stuck a tentative hand out to his bedside table and grabbed his mirror.
“Sirius!” he said in a hushed whisper, not wanting to alert James and Lily to the fact that he was up and calling home like a baby.
“Hey, my love,” Sirius responded.
At that was all it took.
Seeing Sirius on the other end, one of Remus’s hands on his chest, showing Harry that they were in bed together too. Hearing Sirius’s voice. Hearing my love like Harry was the most important thing in the world to him. The hot tears poured out of his eyes, Harry diving under the covers in hopes of muffling the noise.
“Oh…Harry…”
“I-I-can’t sleep, and my sheets smell different and-and-I even liked dinner! I can’t help--” Harry choked out words one by one, not sure if he was making sense or if it was just garbled together, “I’m sorry, I d-didn’t--”
“Shhh, hey, can you take a breath for me?” Sirius asked gently and Harry took a shaky inhale. “Good. Do you want me to come pick you up?”
“N-n-no.”
“Okay.”
“C-can…you just…can you just stay on the mirror? Until I’m as-asleep?” His voice was thick, his nosy running and he used the edge of the blanket to wipe his eyes.
“Of course.”
“Can you just talk?”
Sirius nodded, and Harry watched in the dark as Sirius settled against his own pillows--sheets even softer than Harry’s, always fluffed to perfection-- and pulled back the mirror so Harry could see Remus too, head not far from Sirius’s own. “Did I tell you I played a bit of a joke on one of my colleagues?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“They have some suspicion it was me, but you know, we’re all fans of a legal system here and they do say innocent until proven guilty,” Sirius told him, his voice even and calm. Harry put the mirror next to him on the pillow, muscles releasing tension as he drifted off.
--
Christmas Eve 1995
The day had been one of the best so far. James had come over to Number 12 early with Harry to help make Christmas dinner, including the countless cookies that had become tradition.
“Can I help?” James had asked
“Yeah but you get the snowflake apron, the reindeer are mine,” Harry responded, throwing a pale blue, frilly apron across the room at James who just laughed, eagerly coming to the counter. Lily arrived much later, Sirius halfway listening to her and Remus in the other room. Harry bounced between all of them, teasing James about the mess he made and his clumsiness in the kitchen, moving into the sitting room to tell Remus about a book he had just started with Lily. It was something that resembled peace. Family. Just a group of people united by love.
It was the first day Sirius had felt like he had James back; the one with the bright smile and unfailing optimism; the one who made Sirius laugh until he couldn’t breathe, this time with the added benefit of Harry joining in; the one who wasn’t interested in competing with Sirius and was just happy to be together. Christmas had always been the best day of the year to James and Sirius had been trying to capture all of the joy James and the Potters had given Sirius for the past fifteen years, hoping that would be adequate compensation for Harry.
It had been so nice. Until…it wasn’t.
“Where’s Harry?” Lily asked, some point after dinner, coming to find Sirius in the kitchen where was cleaning up, away from The Weasley children, and the guests still in his home. James was at the table pretending to help, though he and Remus were more content to make more mess, dropping sweet wrappers onto the floor. Flashbacks of his best friends dropping their socks on the floor of the dormitory. “I can’t seem to find him?”
“Oh, he’s outside with Cedric…” Sirius said absently.
“With his boyfriend?”
“Yes?”
“That’s…a little inappropriate don’t you think?” and Sirius turned to face the redhead from where he had been putting wrappers into the bin. She was looking to James for support, and Sirius raised an eyebrow.
“He’s fifteen…I don’t think it’s inappropriate for him to go snog his boyfriend, no.”
“Alone? Unsupervised?”
“You would rather supervise the snogging? Bit weird, Lils,” Sirius attempted a joke to avoid the argument. He just wanted one day. Remus was already gripping the table, prepared to see this through even if Sirius put a stop to it. His husband had the patience of a saint, and it was being tested nearly every day, Sirius moving moment to moment wondering when it would finally tip and Remus would unravel.
“No, I think it’s inappropriate for him to be alone with his boyfriend when we’re supposed to be spending time as a family, and he has guests over.” Lily crossed her arms, “Who knows what they’re doing out there.”
“Snogging.” Remus told her so Sirius didn’t have to, “He’ll probably be back in fifteen minutes or so.”
“Well, I--”
“You are more than welcome to go find him, Lily,” Sirius flicked his wrist to magically start the dishes, leaning against the counter, and he watched as Lily stuttered. James and Lily hadn’t had to do any of the hard things yet. Sirius had been stepping in despite Remus’s voice telling him to stop saving the day, let them lie in the mess they made. Sirius was learning to be better, especially if Harry wasn’t going to be hurt by it. If Harry wanted to stay up late because a bedtime hadn’t been enforced? Fine, James and Lily could navigate the rough waters of an overtired teenager; if Harry didn’t pick up the bathroom or do his holiday schoolwork? That was on them. Sirius couldn’t help but roll his eyes when Lily made no move to follow up on her desire to go find Harry and interrupt the snogging, even though he knew that was going to irritate her, and James was going to get upset that Sirius was being rude to his wife. A snowball effect, rolling down a hill, ruining an otherwise good day.
“It’s your house, I don’t want to--”
Sirius laughed, “I don’t have a problem with it. You do. You can go find him, but you don’t get to use me to go do the dirty work. You don’t get to pick and choose the parts of being a parent.”
--
January 1996
Harry had come into the world and Lily could look at the tiny bundle in her arms and pick out the parts that were James and the parts that were her. As he grew, she continued to play the game--hair that came from James, eyes from Lily; curiosity from Lily, an easy sense of humor from James, baby Harry giggling at everything under the sun--until she couldn’t play it anymore.
She had imagined how it would be when he got even older, and Lily hoped to see her husband's kindness, and athleticism; she imagined looking over one day at an older version of Harry and seeing herself in the way he moved his hands or asked questions.
But she didn’t. Those images vanished and no matter how hard she tried, Lily couldn’t find any parts of her and James in their son aside from physical appearance, the fifteen-year-old in the bedroom down the hall could’ve been just another kid on the street he was so different than what she imagined.
Instead, she looked at Harry, sitting for breakfast, and saw Sirius. She saw Sirius in the way Harry held himself up straight and tall at the table, with his napkin in his lap, dripping with manners that Lily had never been taught or would have even thought to teach her child; in the way Harry asked where are the salad forks? When going to set the table. James laughed but Lily had felt so embarrassed that their home didn’t differentiate. She heard Sirius in the way Harry laughed, loud and unapologetically. She saw Remus too, in the way Harry found scraps to use as bookmarks, and the way Harry took his tea. There was Remus in the way Harry spoke with his friends or talked about school work. And Lily hated it. And she hated herself for hating it.
It wasn’t supposed to be that way.
Every second she looked at Harry, was another step backward. Her son slipping away into someone that wasn’t equal parts her and James. Especially when Harry returned from a trip to Diagon Alley, shopping bags in hand and Sirius in tow, a wide grin on her son's face that was only ever seen when Sirius or Remus was present. The conversations she had with Harry only feature one-word answers or shrugs of shoulders, neither of them sure what to say.
“Where’s James?” asked Harry immediately, and Lily pretended it didn’t hurt that her husband wasn’t Dad. In fact, Sirius was Dad, her son peppering in the name throughout dinner time conversations or deliberately in front of them when making requests. To prove a point. Because according to Remus, Harry only had used Dad on rare occasions until this month. Lily hated that too.
Dad, can you hang this up for me?
Dad’s working until late, did he tell you about the court case?
“Dad got me new gloves for seeking and a snitch to practice with! It can be spelled for the wards and do a bunch of stuff!”
“He’s actually out back right now trying to magic our outdoor floo, I’m sure he’d love to…” Lily trailed off Harry running sock footed down the hall to reach the backdoor where James was, leaving the other bags with Sirius and Remus. “What’s all this?”
“Bit of shopping.”
“He just got plenty of gifts for Christmas, Sirius.” When Sirius explained they usually went back to school shopping with Harry and asked if Lily and James wanted to come, Lily didn’t anticipate them returning with so many bags. Maybe some books. Perhaps some school supplies. Certainly not new seeking gloves and a practice snitch. “When you said back to school shopping, I didn’t think it included buying out Quality Quidditch Supplies.”
“I…didn’t,” Sirius spoke slowly, “I told you we went shopping, Lily.”
“What’d you buy him?”
“Some fun Quidditch things…I don’t know, a new pair of shoes, a new bag for his books? What’s it matter?”
“Did he need new shoes? We could have bought him some.”
“No, he didn’t need--”
“He has plenty, Sirius, you are spoiling him!” Lily exclaimed and she could feel Sirius wave his arm to cast a silencing charm around them.
Sirius’s grey eyes went wide at her statement before he laughed, “Lily, you’re being--”
“He didn’t need a new bag, or new shoes. He’s fifteen, not going to business meetings, and--”
“This is about shoes?”
“He's grown up thinking he can have everything he wants!”
“Because he can,” Sirius told her without hesitation and Lily’s vision clouded with nothing but red.
“And also has grown up with an arrogance to match yours,” she spat, watching the remark land in Sirius’ body language. As if shouting at Sirius, breaking down his proud posture would help her stand a little taller; as if that would bring her son closer to her. Because her son moved like Sirius in the world with a quiet confidence in his upbringing that Lily also never had. Harry had gone to a posh, private muggle school before Hogwarts; Harry arrived every term with shiny new shoes for his robes and a new bag for his books; Lily had returned every year with the same bag that was patched and patched with whatever fabric her father had lying around. Lily would look at Sirius and James with contempt and she hated herself for looking at her son in the same way.
It was easier to hate Sirius.
She would’ve hated Remus too if he was standing there and not recovering from a full moon.
“Have we met the same kid?” Sirius asked, “I’m not going to apologize for making sure Harry knows who he is in this world. Don’t confuse that with arrogance just because it comes with a fucking bag, Lily.”
“It’s not just the bag, Sirius! It’s all the gifts and the parties and the fact that he went to a private school and--”
“You’re being ridiculous. Of all the stupid things…I’m not going to apologize for sending my kid--”
“He’s not your kid! And it seems like you didn’t even bother once to think about what James and I would’ve wanted for him!”
If you were going to take down Goliath, and all you had was a pebble, you wound up as many times as you could.
Lily wound up, he’s not your kid, echoing in the room, ringing in both their ears. She regretted it the second it fell from her mouth but she couldn’t take it back. The letters and words and sounds were lying there on the floor between them. She watched as Sirius dropped the shopping bags on the ground, looking at her with his jaw set. She could see the way he swallowed, and the way grey eyes had become so cold and distant. The way Sirius got when he wanted to protect himself from more hurt, like all the time she had seen Sirius at thirteen and fourteen walking to meet his parents on the platform.
“I feel sorry for you,” Sirius told her evenly, voice low as the silencing charm was broken, “That…you are so angry with me, for making bad decisions, that…you’re not able to see how great of a kid you have.”
--
Remus made himself believe that Sirius’s odd behavior was because he missed Harry. Spending an afternoon with him and then not being able to bring him home was surely the root of Sirius’s distance and the way he had to pause mid-sentence to compose himself, seemingly on the verge of tears. But then Sirius brought a tea tray up to their bedroom where Remus had been recovering most of the day, except to move to take a hot bath, and Sirius’s hands were shaking so badly, it spilled everywhere.
Sirius didn’t spill.
Sirius certainly didn’t cry over spills. Except for one time first year when he spilled an inkpot on accident in Transfiguration and had started shaking so bad, he was asked if he needed the hospital wing. Afraid of what was going to come, though nothing did.
But Sirius stood in their bedroom, sobbing with a tray in hand, liquid spilling onto their carpet just as quickly as tears came out of his husband's eyes. Full moon aches and pains could be cured, this needed more attention, and Remus stood up from bed, levitating the tray out of Sirius’s hands and onto the dresser. Remus’s arms went around Sirius’s body to the best of his ability, not able to take Sirius’s weight as well as he usually did, the two of them landing on the ground together.
One hand at the back of Sirius’s head while he cried into his shoulder, not speaking English when asked for an explanation. Kissing Sirius’s dark curls was all Remus could do until calm settled over. Just incoherent, garbled French and tears that soaked through Remus’s sweatshirt. The one he had put on today because it belonged to Sirius and having him close was the best thing when recovering from a transformation.
“Baby?” asked Remus gently into the side of Sirius’s head, “Did something happen?”
Sirius didn’t cry when he was upset, not if he could help it, though these past six months had Remus questioning everything. Sirius teared up when he was happy--Remus loved seeing those tears when he was so touched that he was rendered speechless, like when Remus and Harry had thrown Sirius a surprise party after completing his legal coursework; or their wedding day when vows had turned into Sirius staring at Remus with tears in his eyes for ten minutes. They said enough. But upset was different. This was different and Remus had an all-consuming feeling he knew exactly what had caused them.
Sirius’s hands fisted into the sweatshirt, but he didn’t lift his head. Remus hadn’t moved his arms. “I thought we did alright. By Harry. I really thought we did alright.”
“Sirius, we did.”
“He-he’s happy?”
“He’s a happy kid, baby. We did alright by him, why--”
“I’ve been feeling so guilty, all the time, that we just didn’t do enough. And I'm not enough for him and I couldn’t do enough ever for him as a kid because…” Sirius choked out, inhaling slowly, “I really thought we took them into consideration, I…we did the best we could, right?”
“Who told you we didn’t?”
.
Sirius didn’t attempt to stop Remus from flooing over to the Potters' home unannounced. Remus said he was going and Sirius nodded, eyes red-rimmed, hands still shaking as he laid in bed. Remus’s bones were aching, he had a tension headache and all the potions he took earlier that day were wearing off. The second round was supposed to happen but his husband crying on the floor took priority.
His kid took priority.
Remus could handle broken bones, he had been managing those since he was seven. Blood didn’t bother him, unflinching when Harry had fallen off his bike as a toddler or had been in the hospital wing from a Quidditch injury. A broken home? That was a different story.
He landed in the sitting room, Lily, James, and Harry all gathered together. James and Harry were in the middle of a game of wizards chess, Lily watching with earnest.
“Moony!” James and Harry greeted together, identical grins on their faces. It would’ve been cute, it would’ve been a mental snapshot to save for later had Remus not been so furious. The water that had been on a simmer was now a full boil, bubbling rapidly, determined to burn everything in sight.
"Are you feeling better?" James asked.
“Harry, go to your room,” Remus said immediately, not bothering with a greeting, “Pack a bag. Don’t leave until I come and get you.”
“What? Why, I--”
“Don’t argue with me, do as I say, please,” Remus wasn’t looking at Harry, his eyes fixated on Lily who was standing, James oblivious from his spot on the floor, but Remus’s tone was enough. The stern tone he used with his class. The one that was quiet and calm and deadly that Harry listened to without hesitation. Remus waited until he heard Harry’s bedroom door shut, casting a silencing charm. “How fucking dare you? Where the fuck do you get off telling Sirius any of that?”
“Remus--”
“No! I don’t give a damn what you actually have to say because you were way out of line. You’ve been dead for fifteen fucking years Lily! Both of you! Do you think either of us expected to have a kid at 21 after barely surviving a fucking war and you somehow find it in you to critique the choices we made? WE, made mind you?” Shouted Remus, “Do you know how many fucking parenting books Sirius read? We have THREE SHELVES IN OUR FUCKING LIBRARY FULL OF THEM. Or how many Healer appointments we made because neither of us were sure what was normal and Harry cried for a month after you died. Did you know that? And when he finally stopped, Sirius was convinced something was wrong? But it just turns out that he was happy again and it took fifteen bloody Healer appointments to connect that!”
“What is going on?” asked James again, his voice now hinting at concern over confusion.
“What’s going on is both of you have acted selfishly this entire fucking time and I am done with it. He was concerned about what you would think and what you would want every step of the way. Me? I didn’t fucking care, I couldn’t have cared less what you thought because you were dead and we were all Harry had. Sirius was the one who put his life on hold so he could stay at home with Harry; Sirius was the one who decided we should buy a big fucking Christmas tree every year and host dinners because that’s something you would’ve done. That’s all he considered for years and--”
“We would’ve never--”
“Get off your fucking high horse, Lily! This is about money? This about Harry having nice things? Or Merlin forbid Harry have thoughts and opinions that are different than yours? But yeah, sure, lets blame it on Sirius! Even though he is the only reason you even have time with Harry right now because I wanted to go to court. And we both know damn well how that would’ve ended. Do you really think the ministry would’ve sided with you? Are you that fucking delusional?”
“What is going on?” James asked for the third time, now standing between Remus and Lily, watching as sparks crackled in the air, trying to diffuse a situation he knew nothing about.
“I’m taking Harry home, is what’s going on. And you can talk to your wife as to why. I’ll let you know if I decide to let him come back. Because I can make decisions without Sirius, and with Sirius and contrary to what you might think.”
“I didn’t mean, that you--”
“I picked the ruddy school Harry went to, out of all the ones we looked at. Because it had an after-school art program. Did you know he likes to draw? And paint?”
What really breaks me about the whole Sirius’s storyline is that if he just arrived earlier at the Potter’s house in that horrible night he would have been able to take Harry with him and wouldn’t have gone to Azkaban
If Sirius had Harry, Harry would be his first priority and he wouldn’t leave him for anything in the world and certainly wouldn’t go after Peter. The only reason Sirius went after Peter was because he thought Harry was safe and didn’t need him anymore
So if Sirius arrived a few minutes earlier and left with baby Harry and just hide them both until everything settled down, both Harry and Sirius would have a story so less tragic and so much happier
Harry wouldn’t completely fill the gap that James and Lily left in Sirius’s life and heart, but having a piece of them with him would certainly make things a lot better
And Sirius would be the best parent ever for Harry because he would want to be everything that the Potter’s were for him and everything he imagined Lily and James would be for Harry
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