[hp fic] Hose (Sirius, PG)
Hose
Fandom: HP
Rating: PG
Characters: Sirius, Harry (background Sirius/Remus, but it's mostly gen)
Summary: Sirius bonds with his fourteen-month-old godson.
A/N: This one is for dramaphile, who wanted a story about this line from Close To Heaven: So, Harry-or-Rose (or “Hose”, as Sirius called the unborn baby when Lily wasn’t listening) was awake, too. Approx. 1,150 words. Cross-posted to omniocular ( here). You can read the story in French here.
“Your mum’s a lying bint,” Sirius said as he danced around the bedroom with Harry in his arms. “An evil, lying bint.”
Harry continued to bawl, so loudly that he was actually competing with the rain as it struck the roof and windowpanes.
“She told me you’d sleep through the storm,” Sirius informed him. “’Give him his supper, put him in bed, make sure he has his bear. He’ll sleep like he’s under a spell.’ Those were her exact words, I’ll have you know. The liar. She just wanted to get out of the house with your daddy. Not that I blame her.” He frowned. “Not that I blame her for wanting to get out of the house, I mean. Your daddy is…not my type, let’s say.”
Harry screamed and grabbed a fistful of Sirius’s hair.
“Oi!” Sirius yanked his hair free and held Harry at arm’s length. He stopped dancing. “All right, then. We’ve got to do something with you. Why are you crying, anyway? You’re with me. Your loving godfather. Maybe not so loving right now, but still. I’m hurt, frankly.”
Harry’s face was bright red and his eyes were squeezed shut - but the tears streamed freely.
Sirius sighed, gathered Harry back against his chest, and tried to decide what to do.
Remus would have known. Remus knew how to deal with kids, even very young kids. Once, while walking through the Edinburgh Zoo, they'd encountered a little girl who'd become separated from her school group. Sirius would have gone immediately to find one of the zoo workers, but Remus had somehow gotten the girl to stop crying long enough to describe her teacher. They'd located the woman - discreetly, by magic - ten minutes later, and all had been well. Except for the girl, who'd received a sharp word for wandering off.
"Remus would have got you to shut up," Sirius told Harry. "A shame…"
A shame Remus could no longer be trusted.
Sirius swallowed. "You think you know a bloke," he said quietly. He couldn't hear his own voice above Harry's wails. "You think he's one of your mates. More than. You let him bugger you and then he…buggers you." His heart suddenly seemed to be beating his ribs as furiously as Harry's tiny fists beat the air, but he managed a rueful smile.
He'd deal with Remus. Just now he had to contend with his best friend's inconsolable baby son.
"Well," he said, regarding the tear-streaked face. "Your parents should have called you Hose. That was my idea. You'd've been Rose if you'd been a girl, so, until they knew for certain, they called you Harry-or-Rose. You wouldn't remember, and it's probably best that way. But I can see now that you're a Hose. Look at how you're leaking."
He thought then to check Harry's nappy, but it was dry.
"You have no reason to be this upset!" said Sirius, exasperated. "None. All right, the most evil Dark wizard since Grindelwald is trying to take over the country, but you don't know about that. That's your parents' concern. Speaking of whom, you've got two lovely parents, which is something I never had. Even before your dad corrupted me, I never had it easy in the noble and most ancient House of Black. Furthermore."
He started dancing again - this time it was a gentle swaying motion, instead of the jerky chassé of before. "Furthermore," he went on, "you haven't got a brother. Someday, when you're old enough to whinge about not having a younger brother to pick on, I'll tell you about Regulus."
But not for a long time, Sirius thought. There was nothing wrong with Harry's developing verbal skills; at fourteen months, he could say "mama," "papa," and "pah'oo," the exact meaning of which was currently being debated. Sirius could not envision a time when talk of Regulus would not hurt. It wasn't that getting himself killed somehow erased all the rotten things Regulus had done. Sirius hadn't forgiven him anything. He didn't understand it, and couldn't explain it.
"I could tell you about some of the hexings I've had," he offered Harry. "Or detentions. I had to clean the Slytherin bathrooms with a toothbrush once. No magic. Just Padfoot and a toothbrush against all that filth. Then there was the time-"
He stopped swaying.
Harry had stopped crying.
"Well, well," said Sirius. "Run out of water, have you, Hose? Back to bed, then."
He started toward the crib, but stopped abruptly when Harry began to sniffle.
"Oh, no you don't. Er…"
What to do?
"Do I have to keep dancing? Talking? Help me, Hose. I was talking about my detentions, wasn't I? Well…"
Harry waved his fists and screamed.
"Once!" Sirius shouted, and Harry, in surprise, shut up. "Once," Sirius went on quickly, "I was a real prat to this girl. Gwen Moffat. To be fair, she was a stupid bint. But I was horrible to her. Took the mickey out of her all the time. She had bad acne, and I made fun of that. So, one day I ended up serving detention, and Professor Sprout - that's the head of Moffat's house - made me spend an entire Saturday collecting bubotuber pus. I missed the Quidditch game of the year. It was awful. How about that? Like that? D'you like hearing about my misery? Want more?"
Harry was silent.
"Hmm. All right. Shall I tell you about the time I broke both my legs and my arm? My mates and I thought it would be fun to turn one of the Hogwarts staircases into a sort of Möbius Strip. D'you know what that is? Of course not. You'll find out when you're older. Trust me, though. It would've been brilliant if it'd worked. A never-ending staircase. Only, it didn't work. I don't know who cocked it up, but we ended up disappearing the entire staircase - while I was on it. Fell all the way to the bottom. Splat."
Harry giggled.
"You can't possibly understand anything I'm saying," Sirius in bemusement. "I should tell you about the bloke who broke my heart; you might die laughing."
As soon as he'd said it, the ache was back.
"Fuck."
Sirius hugged Harry to him, as if the small body could stanch the blood that wasn't flowing. Holding him tightly, Sirius leaned his back against the bedroom wall and sank slowly to the floor. In the silence, Harry made little bubbly noises, but he didn't cry.
"I don't know what I did wrong," said Sirius emptily. "I mean, I've done so much, I don't know what finally drove him away. When I-" He choked, and it was a long time before he could speak again. When he did, the words scratched his throat as they came up.
"I'll kill him if he tries to hurt you."
Harry grabbed Sirius's hair again and said, distinctly, "Pafoo!"
"I love you," whispered Sirius.
04/15/06
Fandom: HP
Rating: PG
Characters: Sirius, Harry (background Sirius/Remus, but it's mostly gen)
Summary: Sirius bonds with his fourteen-month-old godson.
A/N: This one is for dramaphile, who wanted a story about this line from Close To Heaven: So, Harry-or-Rose (or “Hose”, as Sirius called the unborn baby when Lily wasn’t listening) was awake, too. Approx. 1,150 words. Cross-posted to omniocular ( here). You can read the story in French here.
“Your mum’s a lying bint,” Sirius said as he danced around the bedroom with Harry in his arms. “An evil, lying bint.”
Harry continued to bawl, so loudly that he was actually competing with the rain as it struck the roof and windowpanes.
“She told me you’d sleep through the storm,” Sirius informed him. “’Give him his supper, put him in bed, make sure he has his bear. He’ll sleep like he’s under a spell.’ Those were her exact words, I’ll have you know. The liar. She just wanted to get out of the house with your daddy. Not that I blame her.” He frowned. “Not that I blame her for wanting to get out of the house, I mean. Your daddy is…not my type, let’s say.”
Harry screamed and grabbed a fistful of Sirius’s hair.
“Oi!” Sirius yanked his hair free and held Harry at arm’s length. He stopped dancing. “All right, then. We’ve got to do something with you. Why are you crying, anyway? You’re with me. Your loving godfather. Maybe not so loving right now, but still. I’m hurt, frankly.”
Harry’s face was bright red and his eyes were squeezed shut - but the tears streamed freely.
Sirius sighed, gathered Harry back against his chest, and tried to decide what to do.
Remus would have known. Remus knew how to deal with kids, even very young kids. Once, while walking through the Edinburgh Zoo, they'd encountered a little girl who'd become separated from her school group. Sirius would have gone immediately to find one of the zoo workers, but Remus had somehow gotten the girl to stop crying long enough to describe her teacher. They'd located the woman - discreetly, by magic - ten minutes later, and all had been well. Except for the girl, who'd received a sharp word for wandering off.
"Remus would have got you to shut up," Sirius told Harry. "A shame…"
A shame Remus could no longer be trusted.
Sirius swallowed. "You think you know a bloke," he said quietly. He couldn't hear his own voice above Harry's wails. "You think he's one of your mates. More than. You let him bugger you and then he…buggers you." His heart suddenly seemed to be beating his ribs as furiously as Harry's tiny fists beat the air, but he managed a rueful smile.
He'd deal with Remus. Just now he had to contend with his best friend's inconsolable baby son.
"Well," he said, regarding the tear-streaked face. "Your parents should have called you Hose. That was my idea. You'd've been Rose if you'd been a girl, so, until they knew for certain, they called you Harry-or-Rose. You wouldn't remember, and it's probably best that way. But I can see now that you're a Hose. Look at how you're leaking."
He thought then to check Harry's nappy, but it was dry.
"You have no reason to be this upset!" said Sirius, exasperated. "None. All right, the most evil Dark wizard since Grindelwald is trying to take over the country, but you don't know about that. That's your parents' concern. Speaking of whom, you've got two lovely parents, which is something I never had. Even before your dad corrupted me, I never had it easy in the noble and most ancient House of Black. Furthermore."
He started dancing again - this time it was a gentle swaying motion, instead of the jerky chassé of before. "Furthermore," he went on, "you haven't got a brother. Someday, when you're old enough to whinge about not having a younger brother to pick on, I'll tell you about Regulus."
But not for a long time, Sirius thought. There was nothing wrong with Harry's developing verbal skills; at fourteen months, he could say "mama," "papa," and "pah'oo," the exact meaning of which was currently being debated. Sirius could not envision a time when talk of Regulus would not hurt. It wasn't that getting himself killed somehow erased all the rotten things Regulus had done. Sirius hadn't forgiven him anything. He didn't understand it, and couldn't explain it.
"I could tell you about some of the hexings I've had," he offered Harry. "Or detentions. I had to clean the Slytherin bathrooms with a toothbrush once. No magic. Just Padfoot and a toothbrush against all that filth. Then there was the time-"
He stopped swaying.
Harry had stopped crying.
"Well, well," said Sirius. "Run out of water, have you, Hose? Back to bed, then."
He started toward the crib, but stopped abruptly when Harry began to sniffle.
"Oh, no you don't. Er…"
What to do?
"Do I have to keep dancing? Talking? Help me, Hose. I was talking about my detentions, wasn't I? Well…"
Harry waved his fists and screamed.
"Once!" Sirius shouted, and Harry, in surprise, shut up. "Once," Sirius went on quickly, "I was a real prat to this girl. Gwen Moffat. To be fair, she was a stupid bint. But I was horrible to her. Took the mickey out of her all the time. She had bad acne, and I made fun of that. So, one day I ended up serving detention, and Professor Sprout - that's the head of Moffat's house - made me spend an entire Saturday collecting bubotuber pus. I missed the Quidditch game of the year. It was awful. How about that? Like that? D'you like hearing about my misery? Want more?"
Harry was silent.
"Hmm. All right. Shall I tell you about the time I broke both my legs and my arm? My mates and I thought it would be fun to turn one of the Hogwarts staircases into a sort of Möbius Strip. D'you know what that is? Of course not. You'll find out when you're older. Trust me, though. It would've been brilliant if it'd worked. A never-ending staircase. Only, it didn't work. I don't know who cocked it up, but we ended up disappearing the entire staircase - while I was on it. Fell all the way to the bottom. Splat."
Harry giggled.
"You can't possibly understand anything I'm saying," Sirius in bemusement. "I should tell you about the bloke who broke my heart; you might die laughing."
As soon as he'd said it, the ache was back.
"Fuck."
Sirius hugged Harry to him, as if the small body could stanch the blood that wasn't flowing. Holding him tightly, Sirius leaned his back against the bedroom wall and sank slowly to the floor. In the silence, Harry made little bubbly noises, but he didn't cry.
"I don't know what I did wrong," said Sirius emptily. "I mean, I've done so much, I don't know what finally drove him away. When I-" He choked, and it was a long time before he could speak again. When he did, the words scratched his throat as they came up.
"I'll kill him if he tries to hurt you."
Harry grabbed Sirius's hair again and said, distinctly, "Pafoo!"
"I love you," whispered Sirius.
04/15/06