I loved your update! I was having a bad day and it made it so much better! I do have a one shot request if you are taking them! Maybe a pre Hogwarts one where Sirius finds out Harry’s been keeping it secret that he is being bullied by some kids?
PS My condolences on your bunny, I lost my bunny in high-school he was my everything it’s been a while but I still remember how devastating it was, it is so hard to say goodbye
Hey, then I'm glad it came at the perfect moment.
Thanks for the request - I was in a writing mood so here you go :)
Bullying (September 1989)
The first thing Sirius noticed was that Harry didn’t run to the door, and the absence of it unsettled him immediately, not as a passing observation but as something that stayed, because Harry always ran, always, chair scraping back, voice already halfway into a story before Sirius had properly stepped inside—and the lack of it felt like something was out of place.
Sirius paused in the doorway for a moment too long. The overhead light was a little too bright, the rest of the basement falling away into shadow.
Harry was sitting at the basement table, small in the chair, his schoolbag still hanging off one shoulder as if he had forgotten it was there, his exercise book open in front of him, pencil set down mid-line.
Regulus was already in the room, sitting at the table with a cup of tea gone lukewarm in his hands, his attention on Harry rather than the book in front of him.
Sirius closed the door quietly, and when he looked at Regulus, Regulus gave the slightest shake of his head.
It had been building for days.
Regulus had noticed it first, because he always did, the small things that didn’t quite fit until they started repeating.
Harry not talking about school at dinner, where he usually filled every silence.
Harry pushing his breakfast around his plate and leaving it there.
Harry lingering in doorways in the afternoons, hovering as if he were about to say something, and then not saying it.
Harry staying close in the evenings, but quiet in a way that wasn’t tiredness - something held in, something decided against.
And most of all: Harry not telling him.
He’s off, Regulus had said two nights ago, leaning against the doorframe, voice low, controlled. I can’t get him to tell me what’s bothering him.
Sirius had nodded, had waited.
“Hey,” Sirius said, easy as he stepped further in, setting his bag down, voice kept deliberately light. “What’s going on down here?”
Harry didn’t look up right away. “Nothing.”
Sirius didn’t react to it, not yet.
He moved closer instead, unhurried, coming up beside Harry rather than in front of him, his hand settling briefly on the back of the chair.
“Still in your uniform?” he said, almost casually.
Sirius glanced at the strap digging into his shoulder.
“Here,” he added, softer. “Hold on a second.”
He slipped the schoolbag off carefully, easing the strap over Harry’s shoulder so it wouldn’t catch and setting it down beside the chair with a quiet, dull thud.
Harry’s shoulders dropped a fraction.
Sirius stayed there a moment, close enough to notice the way Harry’s sleeve was twisted tight in his fingers, the way his gaze stayed lowered.
Harry nodded. “I’m fine.”
Sirius felt it settle properly this time, like a tiny splinter in his flesh being pushed in.
He shifted, lowering himself slightly, one hand resting lightly on the table, bringing himself nearer to Harry’s level.
He had seen this before - Reg at fourteen, saying everything was fine; Reg at fifteen, hiding things that had not been fine at all.
The same look - closed, decided to hide it, like he was pushing a door shut and holding it from the other side.
And Sirius had learned that if he let that stand, it didn’t stay small. It grew. It got infected, grew teeth.
“Anything happen at school?”
Harry shook his head. “No.”
The same answer. The same tone. Sirius’ gaze sharpened, just a tiny bit, focusing in.
Across from them, Regulus didn’t move, still watching, still waiting. That usually worked. But today, he there was a worn-out helplessness in it.
Harry stayed closed, shoulders drawn in, attention fixed somewhere else.
Sirius saw it. Saw the way the door didn’t open.
And that was when something in him settled into place. There it was and he wouldn’t be able to let it go, the way a scent lingered once he’d caught it, the way a splinter, once it had broken the skin, was there.
Sirius held his gaze now, steady.
“You want to try that again?” he asked, quieter this time.
Harry’s fingers twisted tighter in his sleeve. “…Nothing happened.”
There it was. Not uncertainty nor confusion; a choice not to let it out.
Across the room, Regulus stepped in, because he always tried first. “Harry,” he said, crouching beside the table, voice calm and soft, “you haven’t told me anything about school all week. That’s not like you.”
Harry shrugged, eyes dropping. “I’m fine.”
Regulus waited, giving him time. “You skipped breakfast again,” he added quietly. “And yesterday you stood by the door for ages like you wanted to say something.”
Harry’s shoulders pulled in.
Regulus stayed a moment longer, patient, but Harry didn’t look up. Didn’t open up.
After a moment, Regulus straightened slowly.
Sirius saw it, the wall Regulus couldn’t get through, Harry’s silence like a bar set across a door that was already locked.
Sirius stepped into the space Regulus left.
Harry looked up again, his green eyes guarded.
Sirius bent down properly this time, bringing himself level, one hand coming to rest lightly against the back of Harry’s chair, close enough that Harry could feel him there.
“You know the rule,” Sirius said, voice low.
Harry’s shoulders tensed. “Yes.”
Harry’s mouth pressed tight.
Sirius didn’t let it pass. “About things that matter,” he said. “About things that can get you hurt. You don’t keep those to yourself. Not here. Not with us.”
Harry’s eyes flicked toward Regulus.
“Hey,” he said, softer, but firmer underneath. “Look at me, pup.”
“Now tell me what happened.”
Harry swallowed. “…Nothing.”
A small word. But still a lie.
Then he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping, losing its softness entirely. “Don’t push this.”
It wasn’t just the words, it was the tone, the way Sirius held him there with it, steady and unyielding.
Harry knew what came after that tone. He had felt it before, the sharp correction, the way Sirius didn’t let things slide once they reached that point, the certainty of it.
Sirius held his gaze. “I mean it,” he said quietly. “Don’t make me enforce it.”
The words settled heavy between them, like a foot forcing a door back open.
His fingers twisted tighter in his sleeve, knuckles whitening, shoulders curling in as if he could make himself smaller, as if he could hold onto it just a second longer.
Because Sirius didn’t move.
Didn’t let the moment break.
Across the room, Regulus had gone completely still.
“…Some boys,” Harry said suddenly, the words breaking out of him, too fast, too tight, like they had been pushed loose rather than offered.
Sirius exhaled slowly, the pressure easing at once.
“There we go,” he said. He moved then, sitting properly in front of Harry, the edge gone from his voice as quickly as it had come. “What about them?”
“They call me names,” Harry said, voice small now, shaky at the edges. “And take my things. Sometimes they push me.”
Sirius listened without interrupting, his expression tightening. “Since when, pup?”
Sirius’ hand came up, slower now, resting lightly against the back of Harry’s head, thumb brushing through his hair.
“Since when?” he repeated, softer.
Sirius nodded once. A few weeks.
He glanced briefly at Regulus.
Sirius looked back at Harry.
“That’s what I need to know,” he said quietly. “That’s why I don’t let it go.”
Harry nodded, still so small, shoulders curled. “…I thought you’d get mad.”
Sirius let out a breath. “Yeah,” he said. “I do. But not at you.”
“Never at you,” Sirius said, firmer. “At them.”
Harry nodded again, a little steadier this time.
Sirius’ hand stayed where it was, grounding, familiar. “You come to me with this,” he said. “Right away. You don’t carry it on your own. That’s not your job. It’s mine. Mine and Reg’s.”
He gave Harry’s hair a small, gentle ruffle.
Across the room, Regulus watched, arms crossed, silent.
Because Sirius had gotten it out of him.
///_____///_____///_____///
Harry had gone to bed quieter than usual, but calm, no tears, just that pause at the door that was longer than usual, then the quick hug, and then he was gone upstairs.
Sirius waited until he heard the door to Harry’s room close. Then he turned back, walked into the drawing room.
Regulus was already there, waiting, arms crossed.
“He’s fine,” Sirius said. He didn’t know what to make of this, Reg’s stillness.
“I didn’t say he wasn’t.”
“He told us what was going on.”
Regulus let out a quiet breath. “After you made sure he couldn’t do anything else.”
Sirius’ jaw tightened. “I made sure he didn’t get away with ‘nothing.’”
“Yes,” Regulus said. “You did.”
Regulus looked up. “Yes.” Too even.
Sirius frowned. “Then what’s the problem?”
Regulus held his gaze. “You don’t give him a way out.”
Sirius didn’t answer immediately. “That’s… the point, isn’t it?”
“You corner him,” Regulus continued. “You make it so there’s only one way through, and you call that a choice -”
Almost instantly, Sirius recognized Regulus’ line of argument. He'd heard this before. “Enough.”
The word landed clean. Not loud or sharp. Just final.
Regulus stopped. For a second.
Sirius stepped forward slightly, his voice lower now, steadier, carrying something older than the argument itself. “We’re not doing this now.”
Regulus’ eyes narrowed. “That’s exactly what you always -”
That time, it was unmistakable: A line.
Regulus held his gaze. And for a moment, something in him reacted before thought - an old instinct, a memory of that tone, of that certainty. His jaw tightened. He didn’t look away but he didn’t push again either.
Sirius watched him, saw the moment it landed, and didn’t soften it. “Harry comes first,” he said, quieter now, but no less firm. “Not this.”
Regulus exhaled slowly. “…Fine,” he said.
“This stops,” Sirius said. "The bullying. It stops."
Regulus straightened slightly. “Yes. But how?”
“I’m going to go talk to them.”
Regulus didn’t move. “…Talk,” he repeated.
Sirius met his eyes. “Yes.”
“No,” Regulus said immediately.
“They’re putting hands on him, Reg!"
“I’m not waiting for some teacher to write a note and call it handled.”
“You’re not going to threaten a group of nine-year-olds. They're just children!"
“They stopped being ‘just children’ when they started doing this.”
“They didn’t,” Regulus said. “And if you go in like that, you don’t end it - you change it.”
“It didn’t,” Regulus said, “back at Hogwarts.”
Regulus held his gaze. “It made it quieter. Harder to see. But I was an outcast from then on. That’s all it did.”
Sirius shook his head once. “That’s not the same. That situation had already gone out of control.” Sirius stepped forward slightly. “You remember what it led to,” he said, "me not stepping in."
“Those Slytherins,” Sirius continued, voice lower now, tighter. “You thought you had it handled. You didn’t.”
“I told you what they did,” Regulus said quietly.
“You weren’t going to,” Sirius replied. “Not until it was too late and the catastrophe had already occurred. And then, still, you didn’t tell me until I made you.”
“And before that,” Sirius added, sharper now, “I went to the teachers. Dumbledore. Asked them to keep you safe in the dungeons. That did nothing.”
“So things got worse,” Sirius said.
Regulus didn’t move, he was staring straight ahead, not meeting Sirius’ eye.
“Barty sold you out,” Sirius said. “Bellatrix got to you first.” The air tightened. Sirius’ jaw clenched. “I didn't find you fast enough,” he said, quieter now. “All because I didn’t push far enough, early enough.”
Regulus’ arms tightened across his chest.
Sirius swallowed hard. "What ended it was me dealing with Barty."
A shiver ran down Regulus's back at the recollection of what Sirius had done to Barty all those years ago. "You surely don't mean..."
"I won’t put my hands on these kids. But Harry won't be bullied, I'm not going to let that happen."
Regulus exhaled slowly. “I know,” he said. A pause. “And I’m not saying don’t step in,” he added.
Sirius’ attention sharpened.
“I’m saying don’t start there.”
“We talk to the school,” Regulus continued. “We make it visible. We make it their responsibility to stop it.”
Regulus met his eyes. “Then you talk to them.” He let that sit.
Sirius opened his mouth, but Regulus went on before he could speak.
“It matters how we handle this,” he said, quieter now. “For Harry. It has to be predictable. Not… reactive. Not something that spirals.”
“He needs to see that we can handle it,” Regulus added.
Sirius exhaled, nodded once. His brother’s words made sense. “Fine.” A pause. “And what do we tell him?”
Regulus’ expression softened, just slightly. “We talk to him in the morning. Give him options. Make sure he knows what we’re doing.”
“No surprises,” Sirius said.
“No surprises,” Regulus agreed.
