Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Lucky Strike	By : SpeedyTomato Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Sirius Views: 76067 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and make no money off this strange dance in JK Rowling's world.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Beta'd by the most amazing Tenchi, who I can't thank enough for all the hard work she does for me!

With help from Lynn who works with me when it comes to flow, continuity and other issues

Just a reminder of what's on my profile; reviews complaining or whinging about the lack 'o sex in stories will get deleted. If you want a smut-filled romp, you need to find another story to read.

Chapter 13

“What's going on with Harry?” Sirius asked, looking up as Snape came into the kitchen. Harry was having what could only be termed a bad day.
The last couple of nights he hadn't gotten much sleep because of the nightmares he had been having. Like with everyone, when you didn't get enough sleep, you weren't at your best. Then there was a Mind Healers appointment today, something that always left him in a 'mood'. And when it came to Harry, his bad days could take many forms. Sometimes he was silent, wanting to be left alone, others he was snarly, snapping at everyone. Oh, he didn't get violent with any of those in the house, that was never a concern for them, but dealing with him could be rough, even if Harry didn't mean to get snippy and gruff.
Sighing and taking a seat at the table then summoning a drink, Snape said, “It's nothing to worry about. He's in the parlor with Remus. Both of them are curled up on the sofa taking a nap. I'm not sure how long Harry will sleep, but it can only help.”
“Good,” Sirius sighed, nodding. He was a bit worried about Harry, honestly. In the last couple of days, at least from what they could tell when it came to where it started, he had withdrawn slightly, not talking much. Oh, he interacted and all that, he was just quieter than normal. Combine that with the nightmares and lack of sleep, and then he had problems. And none of them knew where it was coming from. Sometimes, when Harry got like this, there was something that set it off. This time they couldn't figure out what it was and didn’t even have a hint.
“Let's see what happens after he wakes to determine if we can't get a clue about what's going on with him,” Severus sighed. Quietly, he added, “It may just be the accumulation of this mess hitting him coupled with the nightmares. It would make sense. As he's with Remus, curled up like they do when they read, it may be one of those things that will just work itself out. At least I hope.” Harry had his own way to deal with his problems. And a system for how he went it with different areas. One of those things was who he dealt with at times.
When he felt like he needed to figure something out, Harry came to him to talk. Though his students in the past wouldn't have understood that, other than the ones in his house, he did. Despite some of what he heard from Harry about what he went through and dealt with, he could maintain some kind of neutral perspective and be calm about it, talking about whatever it was rationally. That aided Harry in either getting answers or figuring them out for himself. His cool manner helped that and didn't put Harry on edge the way it had his students.
If he was unnerved by something or just feeling like he wasn't safe, he went to Lucius. Lucius was someone that Harry saw as his protector. Oh, he knew all of them would do that, but Lucius was more so because he was the one that took him away from that horrible life and always kept his promises to protect him. The relationship there was an odd one, all of them would admit that, especially since Lucius had a son the same age, but it worked. And Lucius could work wonders with Harry in a way none of the rest of them could because of it. So, no one said a word.
Sirius was the one that Harry went to so he could blow off steam. They talked things out as they did something else because Sirius had his own way to go about doing that which seemed to work. That's all that mattered. When they were done, Harry seemed to do better.
Remus was something entirely different. Harry went to him when he needed comfort in some way. As Remus was soft-spoken and gentle with how he went about dealing with issues, Harry tended to go to him to just relax. In fact, Remus was the first of them that was able to touch Harry without him having serious issues.
Sighing, Sirius looked down at the table and shook his head. “We don't need this.”
“No, we don't,” Snape admitted. “It was bound to happen, though. He's coping, we know that, but the backlash was coming. It was just a matter of time. There was plenty piling up as it was. Like the surgery. He's had a reaction to that each time. This one—I think, maybe, where they are working might have made it worse. He says he is nervous. We know that does manifest problems. Pile on the rest and we expected issues.”
“True, but I have a feeling it's more than that. I just don't know. We've talked a bit the last couple of days, but I can't get anything out of him. Have you managed?” Sirius asked, knowing Snape had tried as well.
“No,” the man admitted dourly. “He's not talking about whatever it is. All I get is the standard of he doesn't want to or a shrug of the shoulders and him saying it's something he has to deal with. Nothing more than that. Which tells me that it's something big. At least that's what it's been the last few times he was in a state like this.”
Rubbing a hand over his face, Sirius groaned. Yeah, Snape was right there; when Harry did that bit, it was something huge that caused him big problems. The last time it happened brought on a series of flashbacks that landed him in St. Mungos to repair the injuries from them.
Unlike Muggles, when Wizards had flashbacks, their magic drove them and sometimes, if injuries were involved in what came with the flashback, it would recreate those and they needed treated. With all Harry went through, flashbacks that bad weren't something they needed. The normal ones they could handle easily. Either he or Remus dealt with those as their manner was more soothing than Snape's. They just talked with or held him while he dealt with whatever it was and he came out of it fairly quickly. It was the others that they were always wary of because nothing seemed to be able to pull him out of them.
“I'll say something to Remus about talking to him to see if we can't ferret out what's going on there. You try as well,” Severus sighed. “He might give it up to one of you. I don't know, though. Let's see.” Seeing Black nod, he asked, “Are you two going out tonight?”
“No, he doesn't want to,” Sirius told him with a shake of his head. “He's tired, obviously, and said that's why he doesn't. I doubt it's the whole reason, but its part of it.”
Thinking it over, Severus told him, “Let's see what we can set up to do something. Maybe go out to eat and let him choose a Muggle place. It at least gets him out of the house.” When Harry got in these episodes, he tended to not want to go anywhere or interact with anyone that wasn't around him all the time. That didn't help anything as it made it harder for him to go back and do what he was before withdrawing.
“If we can't do something in a day or so, I say we get Lucius to give it a shot,” Sirius told him softly, looking down at the table. “Maybe he can manage where we can't. I don't know.” Shaking his head, he muttered some very foul words for James, Lily and Albus under his breath. What they did wasn't something any of them needed and he was sure it was part of this mess.
“That is a good next step,” Severus agreed. “I'll go talk to him tomorrow. Maybe a night over there with Lucius will do him good. Let's see.”
“Did his Mind Healer give up anything? I know he can't discuss what they talk about, but we made it clear there's a problem,” Sirius asked, lifting his head. He hoped there were at least clues they could go by, but wasn't counting on that.
“Nothing,” Severus sighed. “Other than he's concerned. I got the feeling that Harry won't talk to him about whatever it is either, though he didn't say that. Which means we either have to try to get it out of him or prepare for what might come.”
“Fuck,” Sirius mumbled, stroking his goatee. That didn't bode well and meant that he might have to work a tad bit harder to see what he could get out of Harry or to see if he could get him to talk.
“I agree,” Severus snorted, sipping his drink. He, too, was thinking of what he could do to figure out what brought on this latest problem.

Holding his son close in the half sitting, half laying position they had dozed off in, Remus stroked his head with one hand, the other arm wrapped around him, head resting against Harry's. Harry was curled up the best he could manage, holding Bugs tightly. Shutting his eyes, Remus sighed. Like Sirius and Severus, he was concerned about Harry and what might be going on. He assumed that it was many things gelled together causing this, but there had to be something driving it. What it was he didn't have a clue about, which bothered him.
Looking down at his sleeping son, he continued to stroke his head, but also began to mutter soothing words as he felt Harry stir. He wasn't sure if Harry was waking up or just stirring in his sleep, but with what was going on, he thought it best to do that so Harry didn't come to with a start or panic as he woke. That had happened enough in the past that he knew if he didn't do something it would cause issues. Honestly, though, he was happy that Harry came to him and allowed this. The last few times they went through such episodes, Harry hadn't wanted anyone close and shied away from contact. For him to allow this now was a good sign that he was progressing. Even if he wouldn't talk about what was going on to cause the problem.
Starting to hear some murmurs, something Remus thought might mean Harry was waking, he kissed him on top of the head then said, quietly, “It's just me, Harry. Nothing to worry about. I just have a hold of you, nothing more.”
Eyes flying open, Harry was breathing heavily as the dream lingered, and he stiffened up. He calmed down, though, when he heard Remus' soft voice. Though the imagery didn't go away, he felt better knowing it was his dad that held him. Shivering at the dream, or mix of a dream and the memory, Harry continued to pant, unable to stop. Reaching up, though still clutching Bugs with one hand, he rubbed his eyes with a hand that still trembled. The dreams didn't seem to want to go away, no matter what he did. And they were making him miserable because they seemed to affect him even when he was awake, the imagery from them playing out at odd times. He hated that shite, more than anything in the world. And he wanted them to stop, but knew no way to manage that.
“Are you alright?” Remus asked quietly, though he knew what Harry would say to that question.
“I'm fine,” Harry muttered in a still slightly thick and uneven voice.
“Do you want to talk about it? That might banish the dream,” Remus asked gently. Again, he was sure of the answer, but wanted to offer anyway.
“No, I'm good,” Harry told him with a sigh, pushing himself up slightly so his full weight wasn't on his dad. Shivering, he sighed, trying to will away the worst of what was still there. With that, he craved a beer. In the past, those calmed him enough he could shove what was there aside. He wouldn't ask, though. There were better ways to deal with this mess, he knew that. And they were more effective too. He just needed to make them work and that took time.
Knowing not to push when Harry was in a mood like this, Remus gently pulled him back down, holding him close. “Let's just lay here for a while. It feels good to do this,” Remus said gently, stroking his head. He knew that sometimes this helped more than talking it out. At least with him.
Smiling a little at that, Harry relaxed a bit, curling back up to not only his dad, but Bugs as well. “It does,” he muttered softly. He figured his dad would go back to sleep soon as he was so tired, what with the full moon being only a couple of days away, but he thought even being held while his dad slept sounded good to him. That made things—manageable, at least for a time.
“You can talk to me about anything, you know that,” Remus told him softly as he stroked his head and held him close. “I don't like seeing you upset or troubled, Harry. When I see you like this, I want to fix it. Well, I know I can't do that, but I want to help all I can.”
“I know,” Harry answered shortly, not going beyond that. This—what he was dealing with he wanted to keep to himself and not talk about it. He would eventually find the right way to manage it. It would just take time was all. This, though, it helped. Just like it did when Sirius held him. Severus didn't do such things, but the small, gentle touches his other dad gave him had the same effect. It was just—Remus seemed to help more when he held him. There was something calming about his dad and when he held him that made him feel better. He didn't know what it was. Remus wasn't the same as Sirius and Severus in many areas. People didn't fear or were as wary of him the way they seemed to be of the other two. It was just—he didn't know and didn't care. It felt good and there was nothing 'bad' about it. His dads—they wouldn't do that shite. Sirius wouldn't either. No, he was safe. Perfectly safe.
“Just remember what I said,” Remus told him softly, kissing him on the top of the head.
“I will,” Harry told him softly, smiling just a little. Sighing softly, he shut his eyes. He didn't want to go back to sleep, sure the dreams would kick up again, he wanted to lay here with his dad.

Standing down one of the corridors at Hogwarts with some of his friends, Draco had his arms folded over his chest, sneering at what he was seeing and hearing. Jamie Potter was already someone on the list of people he couldn't stand. It wasn't the mess going on with his parents that was the problem. Draco knew enough that it wasn't his fault who his parents were or what they did so long ago. That he could shunt aside and ignore. The problem came in that Potter just got on his nerves. Not only did he strut around the castle like he owned it, bragging loudly about the Marauders and all they did in school, professing he would do the same, but bluntly dissing Harry, loudly. So far Potter hadn't been here two days and most of what he heard come out of his mouth was something that took after Harry. He blamed Harry for all the ills that were going on, swearing it was his fault.
At the moment, the loud mouth was with Weasley, Longbottom and Granger, crowing about what school was like in Argentina and all the things he did, like being captain the Quidditch team there. That Draco could tolerate. After all, he had done such things himself. It was just the tone that got on his nerves was all. It seemed to do the same to his fellow Gryffindors as well. Granger just looked disgusted. Longbottom was shaking his head and even Weasley was looking uncomfortable. The other Potter, the girl, he couldn't remember her name yet, wasn't around. She tended to put a leash on her brother's mouth. As she wasn't there, he just kept going.
Looking at Pansy when she said his name, he waited to see what she wanted.
“Doesn't he get that this isn't going to work? I mean, this isn't like we're all first years and will be impressed,” she sighed, shaking her head as she watched the show.
“Hopefully he gets a clue soon,” Draco sneered, eyes flitting back to Potter. “If not, even the house of the lions aren't apt to tolerate too much more.” He was about to press on when his eyes narrowed. The git was starting on Harry again, complaining how his brother was making life miserable for his parents. Draco sure in the hell didn't like that.
Listening to the refrain complaining about Harry, Ron said, quietly, “Mate, Harry's a good bloke. He's got problems, yeah, but he's not bad. I've met him more than once because my dad and mum are friends with that lot. There's nothing wrong with him other than what he deals with.”
“Look, I get what happened to him was bad, though I don't know all of it, but he's just being a brat with this. Mum and dad are sorry. He needs to give them another chance. He's just—I don't know,” Jamie sighed. “That and there is that sick relationship with Sirius. Yeah, there is something wrong with him. He just needs to pull his head out and get over it.”
That was all Draco could take. Harry—he liked Harry. He was unnerving, yeah, and strange, but he liked him. Seething, teeth gritted, Draco bit out, “What part does he need to get over, Potter? The part where your parents dropped him on a doorstep without the most basic of charms to protect him, only for him to hear they were dead before they popped back up very much alive? Or the part where he was stolen and sold into a life that was just disgusting and perverse? Maybe all the physical injuries it's taken several surgeries to repair? Which part is it?”
Rounding on the blond git and his group of snakes, Jamie snarled, “That's all just exaggerated! Mum and dad made a mistake. He needs to get over it and let them make up for it!”
Stepping closer, eyes narrowed, Draco said, “Potter, it's you that needs to get a clue here. Trust me, it's not exaggerated!”
“And how do you know?” Jamie shot right back, clutching onto his wand. He knew this was Lucius Malfoy's son, someone he needed to watch out for, but that was all. Well, that and the blond was a prat he already couldn't stand. He supposed that he had heard enough about his father from his own dad that he wasn't someone he would ever like.
“Because I was there the night my father rescued Harry. I sat out in the gardens with him while my father determined who he was then was around when almost the entire DMLE was there to question him about what happened. I heard plenty of disgusting things that never made it into the paper. And I know I didn't hear the worst of it because when it got really bad, my parents sent me inside so I didn't! What I did hear was enough to cause nightmares for months.”
“I don't believe you,” Jamie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His dad warned him that this Draco would probably like to brag just like his father did in school. So, he wasn't buying it.
“Would you like a rundown of all the sick and twisted things I did have to hear? Or how your brother, you know, the one you think is a spoiled brat, had to be talked into having surgery to repair the damage done by what he was forced to do that night? He was torn so badly from it that he would have died if he didn't,” Draco shot back. Lowering his voice, he added, knowing this was in the papers, “A donkey was involved. Think about it. I was there, Potter, I saw and heard that part. Your brother was so wary of everyone, he refused to let them knock him out to do it. It took everyone plenty of talking to allow them to even numb what they needed. Even then, he was in agony. I won't forget that for as long as I live.”
“You made that up,” Jamie shot back, shivering a little at some of what was said.
“He's not,” Hermione sniffed, glaring at Jamie. She didn't like him already. There was just something about him that rubbed her wrong. Though she didn't like Draco either, she knew he was right. Plenty went around the school after the mess because Professors Snape and Lupin were involved in it, not to mention Draco. “That was in the papers the next day. They didn't go into details, of course, but enough was mentioned that you got a mental picture you didn't want.”
Looking at Granger, who he already didn't like, then glaring back at Malfoy, Jamie snarled, “This doesn't concern you, Malfoy. Why don't you just move along.”
“It concerns me because Harry's my friend and isn't here to defend himself,” Draco shot back.
“Friends with you?” Jamie asked, incredulous. “I doubt that!”
“We're friends, Potter, get over it! We even write to each other,” Draco told him, tone cold, silver eyes narrowed. “I like Harry. He's fine. My parents like Harry. He's odd, but good.”
“I don't believe you,” Jamie shot right back.
Pulling out Harry's latest letter, he held it up for Potter to see then produced the two pictures that came with it, ones of Harry and Bugs. “That's your brother and his rabbit. I actually have quite a few pictures of him now because he sends one or two with each letter. Proof enough for you, Potter? If you don't believe me, watch for the mail each day. Harry's owl, Hedwig, is quite distinctive. She's a snowy owl and the only one of that breed that ever comes to the school. If you want, I can show you a picture of him and her as well. I have one. So, yes, I'm friends with Harry.”
Standing there, Jamie looked at the picture of the boy with green eyes that looked just like his father. He hadn't seen his brother yet, even pictures that weren't of Harry as a baby, so this was stunning. Harry—all along, he was always told how much he looked like his dad, but Harry was almost a mirror image of him. Including having hair that stuck up all over and the glasses. Unable to help himself, he stepped forward and tried to grab the pictures to get a closer look.
Seeing what Potter was trying, Draco yanked them back and tucked them in his robes. “Don't try it, Potter. They're mine. Besides, he's a brat you don't seem to like, so why do you want to see them?” Draco sneered.
Glaring at Malfoy, Jamie was about to open his mouth when his sister's voice stopped him. Looking to see Sarah hurrying in their direction, he sighed. He needed to keep watch on her and didn't want Malfoy to start on her, too.

Seeing what looked like a confrontation between Jamie and Draco Malfoy, Sarah hurried over that way. Jamie—well, he wasn't dealing with all this well. Their world had been turned upside down and inside out in the last few months. And it was hard. It was on all of them, but especially Jamie. He had been real popular in school in Argentina and had plenty of friends. Now they were dropped into a completely different school where they knew no one. So, they were stressed, especially Jamie. And he was going about dealing with it in the wrong way. She knew when he got loud and bragged it was to cover up the insecurities he was feeling. This time, though, with all that was going on and how bad it was, that was the wrong thing to do, especially since part of that had to do with Harry and how angry he was over the situation. Even those in their dorm were getting fed up with his boasting and constant attacks on Harry.
Deciding that she needed to step in, she hurried over to her brother and said, “I need some help, Jamie. I can't remember where the library is. Help me find it, alright?” With that, she took her brother's elbow and started to lead him away, hoping that ended whatever was going on.
Letting his sister lead him, Jamie glared at Draco then hissed, “This isn't over, Malfoy! And tell that brat of a brother of mine to get over himself and knock it off next time you write to him.”
Sneering, Draco shot back, “Oh, it's not, Potter, I guarantee that.” Watching him go, Draco decided that there was certain lion that he needed to teach a lesson. He also needed to let his father know what was being said so he could warn Severus and Remus. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Weasley saying his name. Looking in that direction, he waited to see what the redhead wanted. They didn't have a great relationship and poked each other plenty, but Draco had let off him after his sister had died. Since then, there was a truce of sorts.
“Malfoy, do you mind if we see the pictures of Harry? Nothing wonky here, I just want to see. He's a good bloke by me and you can tell him I said that that.” Ron said softly.
“We've all heard about his rabbit from Ron's mother and are curious,” Hermione added softly, clutching her books to her chest.
Thinking that over, Draco nodded then pulled out the pictures. He didn't like the lot, though tolerated them, so it was no hardship. Besides, it wasn't as though half the castle hadn't seen the pictures by now. After all, he had to show off the relationship with Harry as he was proud of it.
Squeezing in around the other two from his house to see the pictures, Neville asked quietly, as Draco was someone he was still leery of, “How is Harry doing anyway? We don't hear much about that. Last I heard from Ron was he was doing better and at least talking to people he didn't know well.”
“He's doing fine,” Draco told him, looking smug at knowing such things. “He's talked about his rabbit a lot. He seems to like him. And the strange things he likes to go out and do, like dressing in costume for some charity event.” This he liked and he didn't mind sharing as most seemed genuinely concerned about his friend. Shooting a look down the hall at Potter's retreating back, he vowed to himself that this wasn't over. He wasn't about to put up with the arrogant idiot and his tirade against Harry. He would just bide his time was all, then he would get him.

Jarred out of sleep by what could only be described as a soft scream, Sirius snagged his wand before he even opened his eyes. Sitting up, trembling slightly, he was disoriented but focused. Seeing Harry sitting there, holding Bugs tightly, he knew just what had happened. Sliding close, he said Harry's name then wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. Stroking Harry's sweat-soaked hair, feeling him shake, he soothed, “I'm right here, Harry. It was just a dream.”
Panting heavily, the visions from the nightmare still there, Harry leaned against Sirius, eyes still wide, as he held Bugs close. This one was bad, really bad. And it made him not only sick to see and deal with, but disgusted with himself for even going there. Shutting his eyes, tried to will away the images, but they refused to go. Instead, they were right there and just bad. Shivering, he sucked in great gulps of air as he willed himself to calm down.
Holding Harry tightly, Sirius tried to calm himself and slow his hammering heart. It was just another dream from Harry, nothing more and no danger was involved. He hadn't dealt with this kind in a while, so he was trying to remember what worked the last time. Knowing Harry wouldn't talk about it, he finally said, as poor Harry still trembled violently, “Why don't I send an elf for a beer. That should calm you down and let you get some sleep.” He didn't like doing this, but it was all he could think of. Normally, it worked, too. With as little sleep as Harry was getting, it might help.
Trying to focus on that and not the residue of the dream, Harry nodded then said, voice slightly shaky, “Yeah, I think a beer might be good right about now.”
Calling an elf, Sirius held Harry close, stroking his head some more. Kissing him on top of the head softly, he rocked them slightly until the elf brought the beer. Watching Harry take it with a trembling hand, he gave an internal sigh. The longer this went on, the worse it was going to end up. That he didn't like, but there was nothing he could do about it. All he hoped was that the beer would calm Harry down enough that he could get some sleep. In the morning, he would see what he could get out of him then go from there.
After about half the bottle, Harry was feeling better and more in control. The images were still there, but he could shove them aside. That was good. Downing the last of the beer, he tossed the empty into the trash then rubbed his eyes in a tired way. He wasn't counting on the nightmares not coming back, but he hoped he could get some more sleep than what he had been.
Gently, Sirius laid the both of them down, shifting them around and holding Harry close. Then he did the only thing he knew worked; he soothed him. “I have you. Nothing will happen when I'm here, Harry. You know that.”
“I know,” Harry mumbled, pressing tightly to Sirius. He did too, it was just—hard. Sirius couldn't battle everything and he knew it, especially memories. It felt good, though, and he would go with it. Shutting his eyes, he sighed. Just a few hours, that's all he wanted, then he could get a handle on this and press on.
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Lucky Strike