Here's to a grande welcome back!

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The next morning, Remus opened the door a crack to check on Sirius, whose face wasn't as pale... only to hear a low voice he knew too well. Remus gently took the mirror out, and Sirius' hand had slowly slid from his chest to the bed covers.

"Harry," greeted Remus quietly, a genuine smile erupting life into his exhausted eyes.

"Remus, where is Sirius?" Harry asked, urgency twitching his voice.

Remus averted his gaze to the side, dropping himself to the chair next to Sirius. "Resting," he said simply.

"How is he?" Harry inquired again, pleading for the truth, but not ready for how hard it could be.

Sirius had chosen this moment to crack his eyes open, those fragile eyes that apparently fought against the world-- he longed to just let go for once and close his eyes again, but he wouldn't dare.

Remus sighed, speaking from the heart. "He'd be loads better if he knew how you really were, Harry, and so will I."

"I--"

Sirius inhaled a deep breath, disoriented till he met Remus' relieved gaze. Sirius snapped his fingers together, opening his hand asking for the mirror, to which Remus obliged his wordless request.

"Sirius!" A deaf person could have heard the joy in Harry's exclaim... as his godfather appeared right before his eyes, when Harry needed him most.

"What happened after-- you went back?" Sirius asked, his expression solemn, forcing himself to a seating position.

"Nothing worth mentioning," replied Harry, his gaze wandering to the left, as he nudged his nose with a shake of his head.

Sirius wanted to believe Harry's words, but his gut told him otherwise.

"You just have no idea how happy I am now... seeing you again," Harry carried on, taking in the glint of well-being in his godfather's face.

Sirius gave his godson a warm smile, feeling whole.

"I shouldn't have left you though," said Sirius, swallowing slowly, desperate to the bones.

Sirius could hardly find his voice again, heavy as it was, to apologize for unintentionally pushing Harry away when they both needed to be pulled closer.

"Yeah, you shouldn't," said Harry before stopping himself, bitterness lacing his tone.

Sirius frowned, narrowing his eyes, alarmed. "Again, did they hurt you in any way?"

"No," replied Harry a bit too quickly.

"Harry--" Sirius pressed him further, clutching onto the mirror with a firm grip as though shaking sense into his godson.

A conflicted silence roamed over them, where Harry battled against his thoughts.

Harry considered telling Sirius how trapped and helpless he'd always felt against their endless torture... which left him forever vulnerable.

"You really want to know?" Harry spoke suddenly without a twinkle of emotion.

"Yes," Sirius hesitated to give a truthful answer, unsure of his potential reaction.

Harry cast his gaze downward, unable to speak from the intense emotions forming just under the surface, but he felt heated as the words finally came out.

"But why? You already knew or at least felt how bad it could be-- but still you left me here!"

In revelation, Harry's voice was sharp with hurtful accusation, yet his tearful gaze was disappointed and pained.

"No, leaving you was my last resort, because I thought you would be safer inside than with me," began Sirius, determined to speak his truth despite his broken voice.

Hopeless, Harry merely exhaled a humorless laugh.

"Harry, I believed you when you said you'll be fine there, I have faith in you." Sirius broke the dreadful silence.

"Well, I am not fine! I've never been fine with them." Harry breathed an inaudible whisper, insistent and stubborn to remain voiceless.

"I'm right here for you now," said Sirius softly.

Sirius felt his heart crack in one dreadful blow, as Harry fought back the angry tears with a tremble of his jaw.

"Just tell me, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect you," said Sirius, stubborn as ever, yet his resilience unmatched Harry's helpless gaze.

Harry was desperate to open-up to his godfather, of all people, but he just couldn't.

"Even if it meant risking your life, to seek revenge-- right?" It was less of a question, and the affirmative silence gave Harry the answer he dreaded.

"If you're still looking for an answer, then it's a definite yes," said Sirius sharply yet not unkindly.

Sirius trembled in voiceless desperation, sunken in his thoughts: because I care about you far too much.

Harry shook his head as though in defeat, externally mute yet utterly emotional.

It was already long-decided; no, Harry couldn't risk losing his easily-enraged godfather into a spree of revenge.

Harry chose to hold onto his fragile weakness, the hidden crack that would always linger deep within, in hopes that he wouldn't lose Sirius-- ever.

Harry remained hopeless of any remarkable life-changing twist, still fearful to raise the bar of his expectations any higher.

An image of the abuse, however, abruptly broke them apart... with the vicious snap of "freak!" reaching Harry's eardrum.

Judging by the fury he received from Sirius' expression, Harry guessed that his godfather had heard it too.

"Uh, I have to go," muttered Harry, gasping at the banging on the door. "I am sorry," he said softly, last thing he saw was Sirius opening his mouth to argue.

There were no words to express how regretful Harry was for letting his godfather down.

Sirius fixed his fiery gaze on the mirror, from which Harry had disappeared, and let out a shuddering breath.

"See, I told you, he couldn't fully open up to me," said Sirius, more torn than he had ever been before.

The stems of vulnerability and leaves of honesty, could only spring to life if the roots of trust were deep enough, much stronger...

Apparently Sirius hadn't yet fully built or watered their flourishing bond, for his godson to have full faith in.

Sirius broke his own heart, more than he ever thought possible, at the dreadful revelation.

Harry still doesn't trust me enough.

********
Remus was mindful enough to stay close to Sirius until this profound moment preceded away. Remus took Sirius' mind out of his raw disappointment by engaging him in lighter small-talk. 

His mind elsewhere, Sirius wished Harry could one-day trust him to reveal his darkest secrets in transparency.

Remus somehow rambled about chocolates and coloured socks, intentional to make Sirius feel a tad better.

Soon, exhaustion took Padfoot over into a ringing bubble. Sirius fell asleep to Remus' reassuring voice, his eyelids dropping with a peaceful smile.

Hours passed by, allowing his body to physically rest from all tension, but his mind was still in chaos.

Sirius struggled even in his deep sleep, overridden with a nightmare: "don't leave, stay here, please."

Cold sweat covered his forehead, as he frowned in pain and unrest.

NO, HARRY! Sirius suddenly woke up with a jolting start and trembling muscles.

He released raspy breaths to reassure himself, glancing sideways to find Remus gone.

As the day dragged on, Sirius felt remarkably better: his wound stitched without infections, his head not pounding as hard, his physical strength was cooling back into place.

However, his intrusive dark thoughts had welcomed uninhabitable bodily reactions: a tight knot rumbling in his stomach, and his shallow breath would strangle his throat.

But what if Harry had actually opened up to his godfather, right away? A shaken voice broke within Sirius' soul. Could you have even saved him, without making it a whole lot worse?

Sirius aimed to ground himself in logic, inwardly reflect on his emotions and even challenge his distortions.

I couldn't allow myself to see how bad it really was, Sirius caught himself off-guard, his head low in raw guilt, acknowledging his weakness. At that bitter reflection, he couldn't apologise enough for.

Still persistent, Sirius would be brave to change his bystander reactions through any means necessary.

******
Sirius buckled his hesitation away and aimed to overcome his disappointment... by setting foot into Privet Drive again.

Sirius didn't find Harry this time, however he was found... by Arabella Figg, who invited Sirius for a hot drink in her humble home.

Sirius was familiar with her strategic position here, to keep an eye on Harry and notify Dumbledore of any updates or suspicions.

Whether Mrs. Figg was actually competent for the life-task she was given, still remained a mystery to Sirius.

"I used to babysit young Harry from time to time... until they deemed it plausible that he can stay at home all alone, for nights at a time," said Arabella, a nostalgic smile stretching to her warm eyes.

"Tell me everything, all about him," said Sirius, jumping to the opportunity with a leap.

Arabella gave him a weary look, grave in suspicion.

"I don't know much, if at all, about his childhood," said Sirius, self-loathing swirling in his eyes which held the window open to his wounded soul. "Mind telling me stories?"

"Of course, my dear," replied Arabella, relenting back to her warm resting face. She offered Sirius a cup of coffee, taking a seat with her own drink in her grasp.

Arabella opened the drawer at her side, coming out with a single picture. Her black cat purred at the lack of attention and jumped off her lap, leaving fur leftovers as its fingerprint.

"Such an adorable child, he was," she said, gazing down at the picture and handing it to the man before her who was already sitting on the edge of his seat.

In their nostalgic presence now, Harry was a cheeky toddler whose emerald eyes shone along a wide grin, missing a front tooth.

"Oh, wow," said Sirius in awe, his eyes twinkling so very bright, giving away a teary chuckle.

"He was four here, the first time he ever tasted a cookie-- and from what I later gathered, the last time as well." Arabella began, a sad smile gracing her features. "Just look at him, biting on to that cookie, like it was droplets of heaven."

"May I keep this?" Sirius asked politely, in a chocked up voice. He waited for her nod to slip the picture into his pocket.

Upon his stare for her to tell him more, she added on cue, "Harry showed great discipline... more than necessary, might I add."

"Oh well, he's not like his father on that one," said Sirius, cracking a laugh that ended with a smirk.

"It gets darker, I'm afraid," said Arabella, heaving a sigh, "I presume he didn't want to cause any trouble, or be a burden."

Harry grew to fear being shunned away by the people who showed him the slightest display of affection, the bare minimum he deserved... even then, he was terror-filled to lose them.

"I remember when poor little Harry couldn't be any close to me," said Arabella in a low voice, recalling how uncomfortable he felt whenever touched. He would shrink away in anticipation of a blow or a violent beating. "I hugged him once, and to my surprise, he sobbed in my arms and clung tighter, till he broke into frequent apologies."

Sirius shivered within his raging veins. He despised with every fiber of his being that Harry felt forced to behave like a numb robot --without emotions-- against his every desire.

"That's when I figured he wasn't at all familiar with affection or care," she mused, her gaze entailed sadness, to which Sirius hummed against the tremble of his jaw.

Arabella knew it was a pity on his story marked with sacrifice and hope in love, that Harry's still the legend of a boy who grew up without love.

The elderly squib glanced up at the distraught man, a gentle smile stretching to the wrinkles of her face. "But Sirius, I reckon, you have changed that."

"I am trying-- still," replied Sirius, his voice hoarse.

"Healing is a process, needs constant flourishment of bravery and patience to persevere and to rise above the piercing insecurities-- one step at a time to build resilience, best if supported by a helping hand." Arabella lectured in a dominant aura.

"Indeed, wise words," responded Sirius, reaching for his coffee that had surely gone cold by now.

"It takes a lot of trust to reveal such secrets of his triggers, to be openly vulnerable and not fear judgement." Arabella noted in empathy.

Sirius merely nodded, feeling heavy already.

"You came here for happy stories, I apologise to have overwhelmed you as such," said Arabella, feeling for him.

Sirius shook his head, a frown etched on his face, breathing heavily. "It's better to have my eyes open of what he's been through, until he finally decides to tell me himself."

"Well, at least now I won't have to worry about him getting any more bruises or 'freak' cuts, under your care." Arabella spoke into the air.

Sirius coughed violently, choking on the warm coffee, that his face burned. "What-- did you just say?" He asked swiftly, his grey eyes already wide in horror.

"Oh no, I thought you knew," replied Arabella at once, trying and failing to make-up for her slip of tongue.

"If so, I wouldn't have left him a second there, even if everyone --including Harry himself-- begged me to," said Sirius hotly, his ears steaming, ready to lighten everything on fire.

"Well, I am sorry," said Arabella, her gaze falling to the ground, to which Sirius felt his face boil over.

Sirius got to his feet in lightening speed, receiving a head-rush, knocking the coffee-table over. "Thanks for your hospitality, but I have a headmaster to yell at," he said with a cold smile.

Sirius opened his mouth to ask if her house was connected to a floo network to Hogwarts, but the gears in his mind were redirected towards a different pathway.

The time for submissive talking had passed, now action was the only answer.

Sirius was sick to his core of being at the receiving end of fake apologies and empty promises-- so he didn't want to be anywhere near Dumbledore now.

Sirius wouldn't follow blind orders ever again, not that he was ever a rule follower, but he'd only do what he believed was right and what his heart set him up for.

And the one inhabiting the center of his heart, was now beyond the walls of 4 Privet Drive, and that's where Sirius was off to.

*********
Heading toward that front-door he couldn't wait to close when he'd soon have Harry with him, Sirius took a few deep breaths to keep his fury in check.

Sirius knocked twice, urging himself to wait civilly for the last step to have his godson under his care.

Petunia opened the door, drawing a welcoming smile to greet the stranger at her doorstep. "May I help you, sir?"

"Hi, yes, this is Sirius Black at your service," he began politely that he nearly laughed himself silly, before a twinkle of mischief settled in his eyes.

"The notorious mass-murderer, famous for a bad temper and really not the one to cross."

His smirk grew wider and more prominent.

Petunia gasped in shock, clutching onto her heart. "You-- need to leave," she stuttered, moving to slam the door to save herself from the extra trouble.

"No can't do," said Sirius, easily blocking the door with his foot, granting himself an entrance.

Sirius looked around for any sign of Harry, not ready for what to expect.

"Now then, be a good gal, and call Harry for me," said Sirius with a carefree tone, giving her an icy smile. "C'mon, no time to waste."

All color vanished from Petunia's face-- growing pale, she looked seconds away from fainting.

"There's no Harry here," she managed to utter, her breath trembling.

Sirius raised a cold eyebrow at her in amusement.

"Waiting gets on my nerves," said Sirius, clenching his teeth that a muscle along his jaw twitched.

Petunia, in return, gulped audibly. "You're one of his kind," it was a statement, as she shakily caught sight of that wand sticking out of his jacket.

"Not the one to mess with, I tell you again, if you want to get out of this alive." Sirius added in threat, shooting her a glare that could have knocked her out cold.

"Vernon!" Petunia screamed at the top of her lungs, running away to demand her husband's aid, to which Sirius released a scoff.

Sirius circled his gaze around, silently admiring the pictures hung on the walls. Sadness twinged within him, as he noted there wasn't a single picture that hinted to a fourth member of this family. Sirius couldn't blame Harry for his lack of self-incluson and distorted sense of belonging.

"Aha, Vermin, there you are," said Sirius, waving his hand at the beer-bellied man limping across the hallway.

Sirius noted his inner satisfaction from seeing Vernon's injured hand wrapped away and almost chopped off. Suits him well-- least he deserves.

"We need to talk." Sirius spoke as reserved as he possibly could, but that had only skyrocketed the Dursley's fear and apprehension.

"I don't appreciate being in the presence of a mad-man," broke in Vernon shakily, shuffling his hands. "Breaking and entering."

"Oh, you haven't seen any madness yet," Sirius cracked, giving away a malicious laugh. "It can take me a rough hour to show you the full-range of the madness within, or you can be a doll and tell me where Harry's room is."

The next to reply was a chubby young boy, about Harry's age but looked more-fleshy weighted. The boy stumbled in his footsteps behind his father's back, his panic-driven eyes lingered toward the staircase. "Third room to the left."

Sirius offered him a stiff nod, skipping to the second level of the house. He cast a silent spell to freeze time around their circle with an undetected wave of his wand, so that none of them would take a toe out of line.

Sirius ran to his godson's rescue, his soul bursting into full anticipation and hope.

***
Meanwhile, behind closed doors, Harry Potter was unaware of how remarkably his life was on the brink of change.

Sirius had knocked on the target door, receiving no answer but muffled whispers... with his heart beating to break free from his ribcage, Sirius silently let himself in.

Harry had thrown himself by the edge of his soft bed, clutched in his hand was the last letter Sirius had sent him. He re-read through the words, desperate to believe them as undoubtedly true.

Stumbling across this letter again now, couldn't have been more timely to offer Harry the comfort he needed and to radiate warmth through his entire being.

HARRY, have you lost your senses? I'll let Padfoot tickle you senseless till your sides burst! I'm serious, I've done it before, I can do it again...

Harry had a watery chuckle rise up to his throat, envisioning Sirius smirking down at him.

Don't you dare say I'm disappointed in you, ever again-- I've never been prouder of anyone more than you, Harry.

"Now you are, though," whispered Harry, in pieces.

P.S. I'll keep the mirror on me at all times, I'm always a call away.

"Sirius, I need you," said Harry lowly, clutching onto the mirror as guided.

Harry would have never anticipated to hear his soft voice crystal clear from his side.

"Oh, I'm always here for you," Sirius reached for his mirror as if to answer the awaited call.

Harry could feel his heart pumping in his chest, his eyes wide in disbelief but the hope shone brightly through its twinkle.

Sirius' smirk grew wider as he conversed his godson normally. "Harry, how can I help you?"

Harry was simply and utterly dumbfounded.

Given that Harry was shocked into silence and couldn't play along now, Sirius went on to state how busy he was on a long-awaited mission. "O'right, Harry, call back later, see you in a blink."

"Sirius?" Harry croaked in shocked greeting, speaking in slow comprehension.

"You call, I come: smooth," said Sirius, the lump in his throat hidden behind the smirk he wore.

Harry stared right ahead, his gaze piercing through his godfather and passing even beyond him.

His mind sprinting with questions, Harry couldn't tell if this was real or just happening inside his head.

"What are you doing here?" Harry held a questioning tone, his breath trembling.

"Reckoned you might appreciate a rescue," said Sirius, a sparkle of mischief evidently caught in his eyes.

"I thought I had 3 more days to go," said Harry, a frown etched on his face.

"Yeah well, I was never good at Arithmancy," Sirius had a carefree smile drawn on his lips. "I lost count of how many days were left."

Harry merely shook his head, chuckling in mirth.

"Besides, from now on, expect the unexpected with me," carried on Sirius, as he leaned against the wall, crossing a leg against the other.

Harry's eyes lit up, before attracting darkness once more. "But Dumbledore said--"

"When it comes to you-- no one tells me what to do," said Sirius, his jaw set in stubborn determination.

"Only me though?" Harry countered with ease, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

"Alright you got me, that's like my general rule," said Sirius, rolling his eyes with a scoff, before resting a gentle hand on his godson's relaxed shoulder. "But especially for you, Harry, I won't be stopped from doing what is right by you."

Harry broke into a pure smile, brightening his eyes even further, to which Sirius never felt happier.

"You'll take me home with you, now?" Harry asked again in desperation, his strong voice soon broke into a plea.

Sirius, who felt his heart expand with emotion and his mastermind on alert, nodded solemnly like his life depended on it.

"You put your trust in the right person, Harry," said Sirius, loosening his heartstrings with a genuine smile.

Sirius gripped his fist around Harry's arm, pleading him to stay safe and not leave his side again.

Harry's splitting grin was met with a flush of excitement.

"I'll show you how they'll pay the piper," remarked Sirius, as Harry held his trunk and Hedwig's cage, ready as he can ever be.

Sirius was filled with newfound determination and the skill for mischief and revenge alike...

"But nothing too serious." Harry blurted out, worry igniting his insides.

"I'm always serious, so I'll just be myself." Sirius smirked in challenge, chuckling to himself at Harry's playful exasperation.

***
"I have magic in me," Sirius sang the tune under his breath to piss off the Dursleys, racing down the stairs with Harry.

"Alright then, where were we?" Sirius hummed in thought, clapping his hands together. He relieved the Dursleys downstairs from the frosty charm, to which their muscles breathed in again.

"Ah yes, waiver papers," he continued, pulling a stack of parchments from his jacket. Sirius felt a smile come over him, as he heard Harry release a faint sigh of relief from behind him.

"Who would want the freak anyway?" Vernon spat, mockery seething in his voice.

Sirius meant to launch at that bulldog man who had gone too far, the steam in his ears unleashing, but Padfoot was held back by a hand begging him to exercise restraint.

"Mark my words, even the mad-man would get sick of you, boy," said Vernon, his voice rising like a howl of a dominant wolf under their silence. "Just wait till he knows the real you."

Vernon got under Sirius' skin, rattling the cage of the Black heir.

Sirius clenched his knuckles in attempt to set his ire free, but he silenced the frenzy of rage.

"You're wrong," replied Harry, throwing hesitation into the wind. Sirius felt his heart swell in affection at Harry's swift reply.

"Wait, what?" Dudley had spoken in confusion, his gaze landing on Harry. "I don't want him to leave."

"Let him go, Dudders," whispered Petunia, soothing her son.

"You can just buy a new punch-bag," said Harry, his tone booming in sarcasm. "Won't cost you much."

Dudley stared at his cousin long and hard, a small smile forcing its way up to his face. "You are more than just that."

Harry's facial muscles relaxed from the frown that had built tension into him. It wasn't even in his wildest dreams, did Harry ever hope Big-D would offer him a genuine smile.

To even have Dudley subtly indicate that Harry wasn't an utter waste of space, had once felt outreached and less likely than Voldemort promoting World-Peace... yet apparently one's bloodline can conquer all hostility.

"Petunia, sign this," said Sirius, with a sigh to keep his emotions at bay.

Petunia shot Harry a sorrowful glance and leaned in to sign the official document, to relinquish her claim over her only nephew.

She slid the parchment, in silent agreement, to her husband who swiftly scribbled down his name. "Good riddance," muttered Vernon under his breath.

Sirius fired a glare at his nemesis, snatching the document from his greasy grip to finally write down his own name and status as heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

Both poles of the party felt relief course through their veins, from opposite ends: the Dursleys letting go of the extra burden, while Sirius had finally stood up to his awaited role of a lifetime.

"Now that Harry's officially under my care," began Sirius, directing his wand at Vernon whose bulging eyes side-crossed against the enchanted tip.

"You will not hurt my son, in any way, ever again." Sirius spoke in fiery passion that even a senseless person could perceive, tapping a slap on Vernon's face in warning.

Sirius averted his steely gaze to Harry, and at once, his expression softened. He swallowed thickly, noticing Harry's eyes twinkle with gratitude.

"I'll be right outside," said Sirius gently, carrying Harry's trunk and waiting by the far-end door.

Harry gulped, with a slow nod, watching Sirius go.

In dead silence, Harry racked his brain for the best word choice to vent with against a family that had indeed taken him in from the ongoing arrows of danger aimed at him, but had ultimately made his life miserable.

Harry had no idea what he'd even allow himself to let out in an overdue rant: he couldn't call them off for inflicting endless pain on him, or reproach them for refusing the mere thought of loving him, back when he had been desperate for their misplaced affection.

By their unity in emotional abuse, they taught Harry to be segregated... to always stand as the only one left behind was what he deserved.

Some goodbyes were better left unsaid, Harry reckoned with a heavy sigh. He glanced at the Dursleys for what could be the last time, feeling relief wash over him from head to toe.

Harry gave them his back, stopping in his tracks halfway from reaching Sirius. Harry made a gesture for his godfather to wait, to which Sirius quickly masked his impatient expression with a forced smile.

Not knowing why, Harry made it into the cupboard that had sheltered him as a growing child.

His lips parted, Harry ran a nostalgic hand across his wooden-soldiers who never failed to live up to his wild imagination. They were the first friends and only confidants Harry ever had before his journey to Hogwarts.

After all what they've been through together, Harry couldn't bear leaving his fragmented warriors in this rotten cell... with a heavy sigh, he slipped the soldiers into his pocket.

Harry circled a final longing gaze around the walls that had shielded him from the endless nightmares and brought day-dreams in their stead.

Triggering nostalgia, at least this cupboard was where Harry had first imagined his deceased parents come back unannounced to save their son from his wicked relatives.

Ever since Harry was old enough to comprehend that the Dursleys were incapable of loving nor accepting him for who he was, he had a regular desperation...

Not a sleepless night had gone by, when Harry didn't wish for someone, anyone, could come to his rescue to where affection and care would finally call out for his name.

Two years ago, that desperate idea of a perceived savior, gained a real face of blood and flesh, his godfather's face.

Snatched back into the present moment, Harry could sense impatient footsteps approaching closer.

"Harry, come--" broke in Sirius lightly, ignorant of what laid ahead, stretching his head low to save himself from another blow... yet still an emotional blow hit him hard that the words were torn inside him. "--On."

Saying that Sirius was shell-shocked would be the understatement of the century.

"Sirius, wait!" Harry urged in panic, terrified of his godfather's reaction.

Sirius had his breath hitch against the lump in his throat, holding back an earthly gasp that shook him to the bones. He rotated his wide gaze in slow circular motion, feeling a burning sensation tickle the corner of his eyes.

"Why's there a bed?" Sirius asked in a hoarse voice.

"Really, where?" Harry feigned innocence, looking around the four walls while praying to the saints that Sirius wouldn't put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"I'm already on-edge here, Harry," pressured Sirius in warning, the anger within imagining the worst.

Harry nodded slowly, with heavy breaths. "Just please don't do anything rash."

"No promises," Sirius forced an icy smile, his gaze serious. "Tell me."

Harry had done everything in his power to take his dark secret to the grave, but he couldn't keep it buried any longer.

Although he knew he would regret his decision to confess, Harry felt compelled to spill the truth on his godfather.

"I grew up in here," said Harry, soft with sentiment, to which he felt Sirius tremble at his side.

Just like that, Sirius felt as if stabbed in the gut that even his knees buckled against the weight he now carried on his shoulder.

The walk-in closet, with no room to swing a cat, had been Harry's home for years, with no peaceful companion but the wicked spiders.

"No, oh please no," muttered Sirius, shaking his head in denial, not daring to open his eyes to the bitter truth.

Sirius took everything in: the dust piling up, plagued by the dark scent of death, was breathing over them from the dried blood stains on the miniature bed.

His heart beating ten-fold against his ribs, Harry spared an apprehensive glance at his godfather-- and he just knew this was precisely the calm silence before the storm.

"It's not that bad, once you get used to it," said Harry, defensive to mindlessly protect his inner child.

That Harry didn't see what the big deal was, hurt Sirius more than he could describe in words.

That is not normal, you shouldn't have kept any of this to yourself, Sirius bit back the accusing words.

Leading parallel lives, Sirius would have done the same as Harry. Back in time, Sirius was emotionally mute too when he himself had suffered under abusive walls, while everyone believed he was the golden child.

He couldn't lay much blame on Harry, without having the guts to shoulder his own.

How can you save your son now-- when all has been broken?

Anguish towering over, Sirius saw only red steam fighting for control, everything else fading from around him.

"DURSLEY!" Sirius roared in raw rage, his voice echoing through the walls and sending shivers down Harry's spine.

"No, stop, hey!" Harry sprinted after his godfather, failing to catch up with him.

His wand at the ready with an unfriendly hex, Sirius flew at them in dark wrath.

Hyperventilating against the wand soon fired to his face, Vernon had his eyes wide open like saucers.

Harry stumbled on his own feet, before standing in between as a human shield.

Harry moved out of his way to defend the people who never stalled to hurt him ever since he was a mere baby, firmly against the person Harry thought most of as family.

"Sirius, please don't!"

"Move aside, Harry."

*********
a.n.

Phew, now that was a long chapter!

How do you think Sirius would react now, with justifiable anger??

I'll gladly leave you hanging in the unresolved cliffhanger, but not for long my deer readers 😈😇

Hope this update met your expectations, and there's still much more to come...

-- Also, who is your least favorite Dursley? Why do you think they abused Harry that much throughout the storyline?

Drop a vote and comments :)

Until next time, lovelies, soon  <3