(no subject)
Title: Coming Home
Author: Phoenix Angel Suyari
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Summary: Can’t accept it, can’t erase it.
Archive: Just ask.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, and all other characters from the popular series are the sole ownership of J.K. Rowling and like all other authors, I'm merely borrowing them for my own satisfaction.
A/N: Sequel to Carried Away. Will this be a series? Hell if I know. This is the direct result of every single reviewer requesting a sequel. ‘Lo! Here be your sequel!
Harry blinked as the door opened, revealing a room so large, Harry wasn’t sure there was more to their flat. After all, they lived in flat in London. He knew enough about room, to know that this room should be the whole flat. And yet, there were doors, and a hall. He looked up, and gave a little sigh at the ceiling.
“Want to take off your jacket, Harry?” asked Remus, hands to his shoulders.
Harry was startled out of his reverie and looked at him. He nodded slowly, moving to take it off, but Remus had it off and folded before he could start tugging at an overlarge sleeve.
Harry scrubbed at his nose and looked behind him. Sirius was locking the door, and Remus was putting his coat in the hall closet.
“Well Harry,” said Sirius, coming over to trap him in a sideways hug. “What d’ you think?”
Harry didn’t want to be impolite. “Ummm…” he said softly. “It’s…big…”
“Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
Harry gave a gasp as he was swept off his feet, clutching surprised at Sirius’ arm and shoulder as he was tucked close. Remus gave him a sympathetic smile and followed them as Sirius paraded down the hall with Harry. Harry thought, from the look on Remus’ face, maybe Sirius did that a lot to him too.
The door alone was intimidating. Finely carved redwood, with steel trimmings. Harry stared at the sheer mass of it, and watched it swing open as if it’d attack him at any moment. Remus gave his hair a distracting ruffle and smiled at him when he looked. Harry smiled back weakly.
Sirius moved to the center of the room and held out his other arm.
Harry looked around. This room looked even bigger than the first room. It had a large bed, with curtains and massive windows with heavy drapes. Three whole windows. Three whole windows that were each bigger than all the windows in Aunt Petunia’s precious lounge put together. And Harry had three of them.
The floor was all polished wood. Shining and proudly sporting no signs of abuse. The walls seemed very long, almost like they didn’t end, but just sort of kept circling. There was other furniture too. Bookshelves, stuffed with lots of colorful bindings. Shelves with all sorts of things, sparkly and bright, and Harry figured a lot of this stuff would break very easy, so he’d just keep away from them. Two large dressers flanked a broad armoire on either side. At the far end was a desk and a chair that looked like something from a museum. There was a toy chest and a nightstand with a very, very expensive looking lamp perched upon it.
The ceiling stretched on forever, making Harry feel even smaller than when Uncle Vernon was screaming down at him. He looked away, feeling dizzy and noticed the large painting on the wall beside the bed. Two people looked back at him. One had dark hair, just like his. And the other had fiery red hair, and eyes Harry recognized.
He’d been looking over his shoulder toward the overwhelming mirrors just beyond when he thought he saw something flicker. Looking back, he blinked, but the portrait was still. He felt a little strange, but shook his head and though he still didn’t know this place yet. He would probably be scared a little for a while. And really, portraits didn’t move.
“Well?” said Sirius after a while.
Harry looked back at him, uncomprehending.
“What do you think?”
Harry didn’t want to be rude. “It’s…very nice…”
Sirius smiled and gave him a squeeze. “I’m glad you like it,” he replied, settling Harry’s feet on the floor. Harry didn’t release his hold, and Sirius paused a moment, before picking him back up.
“Well…” said Remus. “Do you want to change? We didn’t know what size you were, but we bought a few things…” He moved across the room, opening the armoire. “I think I can find something in here that fits better than what you have on now.”
Harry looked down at his all too big t-shirt, and the pants that kept only because he’d tied a rope through the belt loops. Sirius cocked his head, looking through Harry’s dark bangs.
“Would you like something to eat instead?” asked Remus.
Harry didn’t look up.
“A bath maybe?”
Harry curved closer, over Sirius shoulder. Sirius looked up at Remus, before curving in on Harry as well. He tucked him closer, and pressed a hand to Harry’s back securely, before beginning to sway. Harry stared at the wall, as Sirius started to hum, swaying still, and soon Harry was finding it very hard to stay awake, let alone worry.
When he woke up, it was dark. He sat up; scrubbing at his eye with the edge of the shirt that covered his small hands. When his mind cleared, he found himself alone, in the big bed, in the enormous room. He gave a little whimper, and crawled to the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do.
The windows cast long, glowing shadows across the floor. It was very quiet, and looking down, a long way to the floor. Now, Harry had two choices. He could stay in the scary room, all alone, waiting for the monsters to come get him. Or he could hope that the monsters that lived under the beds of little boys with dark hair wouldn’t catch him before he made it to the door. He looked up. The door was a long way away.
From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something move, and in a panic, went with option B. Diving off the bed, he landed heavily, a good distance from the bed, for his small body. Once on the ground, he didn’t waste time, running with all his might to the door. It was open slightly, and he tossed it aside, and darted down the hall.
He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he had to get far, far away from the room. He crashed with a chair in the living room, and collapsed in a panting heap, hugging close, and hiding behind it. Eyes searching wildly for monsters.
There was a fire in the living room, casting unfamiliar shadows in all directions. Harry thought he could maybe sit on the couch and wait. Ducking out from behind it, he looked around the room twice before locating the couch, and running for it.
He hurt his belly on the first jump, the couch much higher than he’d first thought. With a great deal of effort, he hefted himself up and turned around, scanning the room again. Everything was still where it was before. Unmoving, and unthreatening this close to the fire. Harry sighed, and sunk down, hugging a pillow to his chest.
He remembered belatedly, Aunt Petunia’s rules about feet on the couch. However, he was more afraid of dangling his feet over the side than getting in trouble at the moment. Besides, he wasn’t wearing sneakers.
He sat there for a while; jerking at every strange sound, and moving shadow. After a while, watching for monsters was making his eyes tired, and he kept having to look up quickly, when he realized he’d dropped off for a moment.
It was one of those moments, between reminding himself to stay awake, and feeling really tired, that he felt his body being lifted up. He shifted at the movement with a little groan, but his eyes felt too heavy to open. It didn’t matter anyway, because he was lying against something warm and firm, his cheek supported by a curve, and his head tucked under something similarly warm.
He sighed as something smoothed back his hair gently, hands fisting in cloth. His body wasn’t bothering to wake up, and before long, it didn’t matter anymore.
The next time Harry woke, the sun was shinning through the windows, and his room was warm, and appeared non-threatening. He gave a little sniff, and sat up. When he stretched, he kicked something, and his automatic response was to seize up.
But what he’d kicked only lifted a furry head. It blinked and gave a yawn, stretching. Harry watched it, and couldn’t recall seeing a dog in the house before. Then again, he’d only seen two rooms. The dog’s tail wagged and it got up. Harry held his breath. The dog - like everything else here - was very large.
He was expecting…well he wasn’t sure. But, he hadn’t been expecting to get licked across the nose. He blinked, and rubbed at his nose. But then the dog had knocked him over, licking his cheek and neck until he was giggling. He put up an arm to shield himself, and got a snuffly, cold nose in response. He giggled harder, and rolled over. The dog followed.
“’Kay! Kay!” cried Harry, between giggles. “You win!”
The dog gave a final lick to his temple, before withdrawing. Harry sat up, scrubbing at his face. “Geez…”
The dog cocked its head, tail wagging behind it.
Harry reached over to scratch behind one folded ear. “Where were you last night?” he asked. “It was scary in here.” The dog’s head cocked again, tail stilling. “Well, it’s not so scary now,” Harry said, looking back over the room. “Okay. Time to make breakfast.”
He climbed down - monsters didn’t come out during the day - and padded across the room. He was almost all the way across when he paused. “I should change,” he said, and turned back around.
The dog hopped off the bed and followed him to where he remembered Remus had gone the day before, when talking about clothes. Shuffling out of his too big clothes, he folded them carefully and set them on the chair. From the clothes closet he pulled out a green jumper, and some corduroy slacks that fit well, but Harry didn’t know how to close buttons, so he tied them with the rope.
With the dog at his heels, he wandered from the room and looked around the hall. Everything looked so much nicer in the sunlight. So much more…peaceful. He padded down the hall, toward the living room, turning to the dog when they got there. “Do you know where the kitchen is?”
The dog passed him, and Harry followed.
The door to the kitchen swung open, and Harry and Remus both blinked at one another. Then Remus smiled. “Good morning, Harry.”
“Look what I found,” said Harry, gesturing at the dog.
Remus looked it over thoughtfully for a moment before sighing. “I see you met Padfoot.”
“Padfoot?” echoed Harry, scratching behind Padfoot’s ear. “Is that his name?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s dog is he?”
“Well, you could sort of say, Padfoot’s his own Master,” replied Remus, placing a large plate of pancakes on the table.
“Oh,” said Harry. “But he lives here, right?”
“Occasionally.”
He finished setting the table and turned to Harry. “Hungry?”
“I can make pancakes too,” Harry informed him, climbing into the offered chair.
“Can you?” he asked, ignoring the dog’s huff.
“Uh-huh,” replied Harry, sitting on his knees and reaching for the syrup.
“Padfoot, why don’t you go wake Sirius.”
Harry looked over his shoulder as the dog wandered out. “He’s a good dog.”
“He can be sometimes, yes.”
“Aunt Petunia hates dogs. And you know, Aunt Marge has lots, but they bite.”
“Mean dogs?”
“I got bit loads.”
“Hmm,” was all Remus said.
Harry looked back at his plate and noticed all the syrup he had on it, freezing.
“Harry? Is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
Harry gestured at his plate miserably, but Remus looked and didn’t say anything. “I used too much,” he offered. Sometimes, if you were honest, you got punished less. But only sometimes.
Remus was still for a moment, then sighed. “Harry, don’t worry about it. You use as much syrup as you want. And eat as much as you want. This is your home now, and Sirius and I don’t have very many rules to begin with. Syrup rations is definitely not on the list.”
“Of course not,” said Sirius, coming in. “If we did, Moony’d be chucked out.”
“Sirius…”
“Moony?” echoed Harry.
“Yea, that’d be Remus here,” said Sirius, hugging Remus tight from behind. He swayed a bit, and Remus didn’t resist very much, cupping his tea in both hands so it wouldn’t spill. “Morning, luv,” he added, kissing Remus on the neck. Remus flushed slightly, eyes flickering to Harry for the briefest of moments. Harry simply watched. Sirius didn’t seem to notice.
“Morning Harry.” He reached across the table to ruffle Harry’s hair, before sitting across from him. “Sleep well?” he asked, picking up the syrup and tipping it carelessly over his own pancakes.
“Umm…” said Harry. He looked down at his pancakes, fiddling with his fork.
“Was it too big?”
“Huh?” he asked, looking up.
“The room,” corrected Sirius, before taking a sip of his tea. “Was it too big?”
Remus sat down.
“Umm…A little...yea…”
“Must’ve been pretty damn scary in the dark. Hadn’t thought of that.” He looked back at Remus. “We ought to fix that, Moony.”
Remus nodded and took the syrup.
Harry watched them a bit. Sirius seemed very interested in Harry, and Remus seemed very interested in his breakfast. Harry noticed they both put on lots more syrup than he did. Tons of it.
“Umm…I saw the dog…” he supplied by way of conversation.
Sirius smiled. “What’d you think?”
“He’s big.”
“He’s always been big,” replied Sirius, beaming.
Remus snorted into his tea, and Sirius looked at him with a raised eyebrow. The lighter man simply shook his head, putting his cup back down and hiding a laugh behind his hand.
“But he’s friendly,” Sirius went on, eyeing Remus suspiciously from the corner of his eye. “Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“That’s not very good,” said Harry.
Sirius looked surprised. “Why’s that?”
“’Cause what about robbers and bad guys and monsters?”
“Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.” He chuckled. Remus smiled. “What I meant to say, is Padfoot’s very friendly, but he can tell when there’s bad around. So, don’t worry. He’ll protect you from all of that.”
“Besides,” added Remus. “Bad things don’t live in this house. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as you’re in this house.”
“That’s right,” agreed Sirius, reaching over to take Remus’ hand and give it a squeeze. “There are no bad things here.”
Remus smiled and squeezed back.
Harry figured if that were true, maybe he’d be able to sleep tonight. Well, maybe if the door was open. And if Padfoot slept with him. He’d just have to find the dog before bedtime. A no monster guarantee was nice, but having a big, hulking dog with hidden fangs couldn’t hurt, Harry thought.
If that failed, there was always the living room. Where the darkness fled at a warm touch and Harry was cradled safely unto morning.
Author: Phoenix Angel Suyari
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Summary: Can’t accept it, can’t erase it.
Archive: Just ask.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, and all other characters from the popular series are the sole ownership of J.K. Rowling and like all other authors, I'm merely borrowing them for my own satisfaction.
A/N: Sequel to Carried Away. Will this be a series? Hell if I know. This is the direct result of every single reviewer requesting a sequel. ‘Lo! Here be your sequel!
Harry blinked as the door opened, revealing a room so large, Harry wasn’t sure there was more to their flat. After all, they lived in flat in London. He knew enough about room, to know that this room should be the whole flat. And yet, there were doors, and a hall. He looked up, and gave a little sigh at the ceiling.
“Want to take off your jacket, Harry?” asked Remus, hands to his shoulders.
Harry was startled out of his reverie and looked at him. He nodded slowly, moving to take it off, but Remus had it off and folded before he could start tugging at an overlarge sleeve.
Harry scrubbed at his nose and looked behind him. Sirius was locking the door, and Remus was putting his coat in the hall closet.
“Well Harry,” said Sirius, coming over to trap him in a sideways hug. “What d’ you think?”
Harry didn’t want to be impolite. “Ummm…” he said softly. “It’s…big…”
“Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
Harry gave a gasp as he was swept off his feet, clutching surprised at Sirius’ arm and shoulder as he was tucked close. Remus gave him a sympathetic smile and followed them as Sirius paraded down the hall with Harry. Harry thought, from the look on Remus’ face, maybe Sirius did that a lot to him too.
The door alone was intimidating. Finely carved redwood, with steel trimmings. Harry stared at the sheer mass of it, and watched it swing open as if it’d attack him at any moment. Remus gave his hair a distracting ruffle and smiled at him when he looked. Harry smiled back weakly.
Sirius moved to the center of the room and held out his other arm.
Harry looked around. This room looked even bigger than the first room. It had a large bed, with curtains and massive windows with heavy drapes. Three whole windows. Three whole windows that were each bigger than all the windows in Aunt Petunia’s precious lounge put together. And Harry had three of them.
The floor was all polished wood. Shining and proudly sporting no signs of abuse. The walls seemed very long, almost like they didn’t end, but just sort of kept circling. There was other furniture too. Bookshelves, stuffed with lots of colorful bindings. Shelves with all sorts of things, sparkly and bright, and Harry figured a lot of this stuff would break very easy, so he’d just keep away from them. Two large dressers flanked a broad armoire on either side. At the far end was a desk and a chair that looked like something from a museum. There was a toy chest and a nightstand with a very, very expensive looking lamp perched upon it.
The ceiling stretched on forever, making Harry feel even smaller than when Uncle Vernon was screaming down at him. He looked away, feeling dizzy and noticed the large painting on the wall beside the bed. Two people looked back at him. One had dark hair, just like his. And the other had fiery red hair, and eyes Harry recognized.
He’d been looking over his shoulder toward the overwhelming mirrors just beyond when he thought he saw something flicker. Looking back, he blinked, but the portrait was still. He felt a little strange, but shook his head and though he still didn’t know this place yet. He would probably be scared a little for a while. And really, portraits didn’t move.
“Well?” said Sirius after a while.
Harry looked back at him, uncomprehending.
“What do you think?”
Harry didn’t want to be rude. “It’s…very nice…”
Sirius smiled and gave him a squeeze. “I’m glad you like it,” he replied, settling Harry’s feet on the floor. Harry didn’t release his hold, and Sirius paused a moment, before picking him back up.
“Well…” said Remus. “Do you want to change? We didn’t know what size you were, but we bought a few things…” He moved across the room, opening the armoire. “I think I can find something in here that fits better than what you have on now.”
Harry looked down at his all too big t-shirt, and the pants that kept only because he’d tied a rope through the belt loops. Sirius cocked his head, looking through Harry’s dark bangs.
“Would you like something to eat instead?” asked Remus.
Harry didn’t look up.
“A bath maybe?”
Harry curved closer, over Sirius shoulder. Sirius looked up at Remus, before curving in on Harry as well. He tucked him closer, and pressed a hand to Harry’s back securely, before beginning to sway. Harry stared at the wall, as Sirius started to hum, swaying still, and soon Harry was finding it very hard to stay awake, let alone worry.
When he woke up, it was dark. He sat up; scrubbing at his eye with the edge of the shirt that covered his small hands. When his mind cleared, he found himself alone, in the big bed, in the enormous room. He gave a little whimper, and crawled to the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do.
The windows cast long, glowing shadows across the floor. It was very quiet, and looking down, a long way to the floor. Now, Harry had two choices. He could stay in the scary room, all alone, waiting for the monsters to come get him. Or he could hope that the monsters that lived under the beds of little boys with dark hair wouldn’t catch him before he made it to the door. He looked up. The door was a long way away.
From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something move, and in a panic, went with option B. Diving off the bed, he landed heavily, a good distance from the bed, for his small body. Once on the ground, he didn’t waste time, running with all his might to the door. It was open slightly, and he tossed it aside, and darted down the hall.
He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he had to get far, far away from the room. He crashed with a chair in the living room, and collapsed in a panting heap, hugging close, and hiding behind it. Eyes searching wildly for monsters.
There was a fire in the living room, casting unfamiliar shadows in all directions. Harry thought he could maybe sit on the couch and wait. Ducking out from behind it, he looked around the room twice before locating the couch, and running for it.
He hurt his belly on the first jump, the couch much higher than he’d first thought. With a great deal of effort, he hefted himself up and turned around, scanning the room again. Everything was still where it was before. Unmoving, and unthreatening this close to the fire. Harry sighed, and sunk down, hugging a pillow to his chest.
He remembered belatedly, Aunt Petunia’s rules about feet on the couch. However, he was more afraid of dangling his feet over the side than getting in trouble at the moment. Besides, he wasn’t wearing sneakers.
He sat there for a while; jerking at every strange sound, and moving shadow. After a while, watching for monsters was making his eyes tired, and he kept having to look up quickly, when he realized he’d dropped off for a moment.
It was one of those moments, between reminding himself to stay awake, and feeling really tired, that he felt his body being lifted up. He shifted at the movement with a little groan, but his eyes felt too heavy to open. It didn’t matter anyway, because he was lying against something warm and firm, his cheek supported by a curve, and his head tucked under something similarly warm.
He sighed as something smoothed back his hair gently, hands fisting in cloth. His body wasn’t bothering to wake up, and before long, it didn’t matter anymore.
The next time Harry woke, the sun was shinning through the windows, and his room was warm, and appeared non-threatening. He gave a little sniff, and sat up. When he stretched, he kicked something, and his automatic response was to seize up.
But what he’d kicked only lifted a furry head. It blinked and gave a yawn, stretching. Harry watched it, and couldn’t recall seeing a dog in the house before. Then again, he’d only seen two rooms. The dog’s tail wagged and it got up. Harry held his breath. The dog - like everything else here - was very large.
He was expecting…well he wasn’t sure. But, he hadn’t been expecting to get licked across the nose. He blinked, and rubbed at his nose. But then the dog had knocked him over, licking his cheek and neck until he was giggling. He put up an arm to shield himself, and got a snuffly, cold nose in response. He giggled harder, and rolled over. The dog followed.
“’Kay! Kay!” cried Harry, between giggles. “You win!”
The dog gave a final lick to his temple, before withdrawing. Harry sat up, scrubbing at his face. “Geez…”
The dog cocked its head, tail wagging behind it.
Harry reached over to scratch behind one folded ear. “Where were you last night?” he asked. “It was scary in here.” The dog’s head cocked again, tail stilling. “Well, it’s not so scary now,” Harry said, looking back over the room. “Okay. Time to make breakfast.”
He climbed down - monsters didn’t come out during the day - and padded across the room. He was almost all the way across when he paused. “I should change,” he said, and turned back around.
The dog hopped off the bed and followed him to where he remembered Remus had gone the day before, when talking about clothes. Shuffling out of his too big clothes, he folded them carefully and set them on the chair. From the clothes closet he pulled out a green jumper, and some corduroy slacks that fit well, but Harry didn’t know how to close buttons, so he tied them with the rope.
With the dog at his heels, he wandered from the room and looked around the hall. Everything looked so much nicer in the sunlight. So much more…peaceful. He padded down the hall, toward the living room, turning to the dog when they got there. “Do you know where the kitchen is?”
The dog passed him, and Harry followed.
The door to the kitchen swung open, and Harry and Remus both blinked at one another. Then Remus smiled. “Good morning, Harry.”
“Look what I found,” said Harry, gesturing at the dog.
Remus looked it over thoughtfully for a moment before sighing. “I see you met Padfoot.”
“Padfoot?” echoed Harry, scratching behind Padfoot’s ear. “Is that his name?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s dog is he?”
“Well, you could sort of say, Padfoot’s his own Master,” replied Remus, placing a large plate of pancakes on the table.
“Oh,” said Harry. “But he lives here, right?”
“Occasionally.”
He finished setting the table and turned to Harry. “Hungry?”
“I can make pancakes too,” Harry informed him, climbing into the offered chair.
“Can you?” he asked, ignoring the dog’s huff.
“Uh-huh,” replied Harry, sitting on his knees and reaching for the syrup.
“Padfoot, why don’t you go wake Sirius.”
Harry looked over his shoulder as the dog wandered out. “He’s a good dog.”
“He can be sometimes, yes.”
“Aunt Petunia hates dogs. And you know, Aunt Marge has lots, but they bite.”
“Mean dogs?”
“I got bit loads.”
“Hmm,” was all Remus said.
Harry looked back at his plate and noticed all the syrup he had on it, freezing.
“Harry? Is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
Harry gestured at his plate miserably, but Remus looked and didn’t say anything. “I used too much,” he offered. Sometimes, if you were honest, you got punished less. But only sometimes.
Remus was still for a moment, then sighed. “Harry, don’t worry about it. You use as much syrup as you want. And eat as much as you want. This is your home now, and Sirius and I don’t have very many rules to begin with. Syrup rations is definitely not on the list.”
“Of course not,” said Sirius, coming in. “If we did, Moony’d be chucked out.”
“Sirius…”
“Moony?” echoed Harry.
“Yea, that’d be Remus here,” said Sirius, hugging Remus tight from behind. He swayed a bit, and Remus didn’t resist very much, cupping his tea in both hands so it wouldn’t spill. “Morning, luv,” he added, kissing Remus on the neck. Remus flushed slightly, eyes flickering to Harry for the briefest of moments. Harry simply watched. Sirius didn’t seem to notice.
“Morning Harry.” He reached across the table to ruffle Harry’s hair, before sitting across from him. “Sleep well?” he asked, picking up the syrup and tipping it carelessly over his own pancakes.
“Umm…” said Harry. He looked down at his pancakes, fiddling with his fork.
“Was it too big?”
“Huh?” he asked, looking up.
“The room,” corrected Sirius, before taking a sip of his tea. “Was it too big?”
Remus sat down.
“Umm…A little...yea…”
“Must’ve been pretty damn scary in the dark. Hadn’t thought of that.” He looked back at Remus. “We ought to fix that, Moony.”
Remus nodded and took the syrup.
Harry watched them a bit. Sirius seemed very interested in Harry, and Remus seemed very interested in his breakfast. Harry noticed they both put on lots more syrup than he did. Tons of it.
“Umm…I saw the dog…” he supplied by way of conversation.
Sirius smiled. “What’d you think?”
“He’s big.”
“He’s always been big,” replied Sirius, beaming.
Remus snorted into his tea, and Sirius looked at him with a raised eyebrow. The lighter man simply shook his head, putting his cup back down and hiding a laugh behind his hand.
“But he’s friendly,” Sirius went on, eyeing Remus suspiciously from the corner of his eye. “Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“That’s not very good,” said Harry.
Sirius looked surprised. “Why’s that?”
“’Cause what about robbers and bad guys and monsters?”
“Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.” He chuckled. Remus smiled. “What I meant to say, is Padfoot’s very friendly, but he can tell when there’s bad around. So, don’t worry. He’ll protect you from all of that.”
“Besides,” added Remus. “Bad things don’t live in this house. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as you’re in this house.”
“That’s right,” agreed Sirius, reaching over to take Remus’ hand and give it a squeeze. “There are no bad things here.”
Remus smiled and squeezed back.
Harry figured if that were true, maybe he’d be able to sleep tonight. Well, maybe if the door was open. And if Padfoot slept with him. He’d just have to find the dog before bedtime. A no monster guarantee was nice, but having a big, hulking dog with hidden fangs couldn’t hurt, Harry thought.
If that failed, there was always the living room. Where the darkness fled at a warm touch and Harry was cradled safely unto morning.