Patria Potestas: Blood Ties | By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Sirius Views: 17596 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 3 |
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time. |
A/N: I'm moving up to twice-weekly postings, mostly because I'm impatient and I have so much of this work done it seems kind of pointless to keep you guys waiting for no reason. Please enjoy today's update, the next one will be on Thursday!
Chapter Five – The Next Stage
12th September, 2004
Harry was stretched out on his bed, staring into space when Hermione let herself into his flat by way of his Floo connection.
“Harry!” she called, and Harry listened to her tramp from the sitting room to his bedroom, but he didn't shift his gaze from the ceiling.
In the two days following his kiss with Sirius, his horror and disgust at the whole courtship thing had shifted slightly. Confusion had bled into the rotation of emotions he'd been feeling for the last month and a half, in particular because he liked Sirius's kiss much more than he thought he would. He didn't want to like it, and Harry felt utterly disgusted with himself that the memory of it brought such a warm flush to his cheeks.
Harry had spent the majority of his time since then lazing around his flat and not doing much of anything, and eating an endless stream of junk food and drinking almost nothing but firewhisky while he tried to wrap his mind around what had happened. Did the kiss really change his feelings towards Sirius, his godfather? Or did it simply add another level to their already complicated relationship?
In the end, it hadn't—not really. It had indeed added a new facet to their relationship, but it hadn't changed the fact that Harry still saw Sirius as his godfather, and not as his future husband.
“Have you moved at all since the last time I saw you?” Hermione asked, and Harry finally looked up to see her, arms crossed as she regarded at him, and her shoulder braced against the bedroom door's frame.
“Does going to the toilet count?” He asked, and she snorted.
“Come on,” she said as she stepped forward and forced him up and off his bed. “Let's get some real food into you while we talk, I wanna go over the next stage of the courtship with you.”
“Hooray,” he muttered dully as he grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and followed her out to his sitting room, “because nothing thrills me more than discussing this damn courtship...”
“Yeah, well, you can stumble in blind if you want to,” Hermione snapped, “I don't have to help you, you know.”
Harry grimaced at the hurt in her tone as he plopped into his favourite armchair.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered, “it's just been...confusing, since the, um, second meeting.” Harry felt an embarrassed flush creep up his neck, unable to form the words, since we kissed.
“At least the paparazzi didn't manage to snap a photo of the...dinner, that's something,” she replied conversationally, and Harry snorted a little.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Harry, look,” Hermione said, and the strong emotion in her tone forced Harry's gaze up from his lap to look at her. “I know it's not an ideal situation, but can you please stop this wallowing in self-pity routine? I'm trying to help you, but I can't do that if you eat yourself into some sort of food coma.”
“I'm sorry,” Harry said at once, and raked his fingers through his hair as he frowned guiltily, “it's just been...I dunno...”
“It's complicated, but is it so bad if you start, erm, seeing Sirius in a different light?” She asked, her face flushing an attractive scarlet, “I just mean, considering what you'll need to do to placate the bloodline magic at work here, wouldn't that make things easier, not harder?”
“It doesn't change the fact that he's my sodding godfather, Hermione,” Harry replied stiffly, “and the fact that he can kiss like...like...it just makes things confusing as hell, not any easier.”
Hermione had nothing to say to that, and after she offered him a small, sad smile, she headed into the kitchen for his takeaway menus.
Over slices of olive pizza and bottles of butterbeer, Hermione seemed reluctant to bring their conversation back to the real reason she'd stopped by, and with a heavy sigh, Harry grudgingly spoke up.
“So what's this next stage in the courtship thing?” He asked, then took a sip of his drink. Hermione frowned a little, and took a bite of her pizza to stave off answering straightaway.
“After you receive the third gift on the seventeenth, you're expected to meet with Sirius four times over the course of a fortnight,” Hermione began, though she seemed unable to meet his eyes. “They're more like proper dates and less formal, like walks on the beach or an afternoon at a park, things like that.”
“Okay, um, that's not awful—” Harry began, but she cut him off before he could get further.
“—Harry, at this stage they're a little more...well...intimate.”
Both of them went red at that.
“H-how d'you mean intimate? I thought he wasn't supposed to do anything like that yet,” Harry said, his voice shaking a little towards the end of his statement.
“Not like how you're thinking Harry,” she said meekly, clearly just as embarrassed as he was by discussing this. “Like...hand-holding, exchanging kisses, that sort of thing. He's not allowed to be overly handsy or inappropriate, and there's still restrictions about what you're allowed to discuss. Most of that—er, stuff is discussed after the engagement is made official, and that's not for another four weeks.”
Harry frowned; though Hermione had taken on an it's not so bad tone of voice as she explained it to him, he couldn't help but feel exceptionally daunted at the prospect of going on proper dates with his godfather. He knew Sirius well enough to know that he wouldn't try anything funny, but it still felt beyond wrong.
“But...you and Andromeda will still be there, right?” Harry asked uncertainly, and she nodded at once.
“Until you're married, we need to accompany you two on all your outings and meetings together,” she confirmed. “It's the rules of the courtship, even if we wanted to leave you two alone, we wouldn't be allowed to.”
“That's not what I meant,” Harry replied quickly, “I just...Like, I know Sirius, but in some ways I feel like I don't know him at all, and you and Andromeda being there...it makes it a little easier to deal with.”
“Have more faith in Sirius, Harry,” she said softly, almost sadly, “he's trying to make this easy on you, and you struggling so hard against it is pretty demoralizing for him.”
“I know,” Harry mumbled as he dropped his gaze to the cold pizza in his hands. “It still feels wrong, though.”
17th September, 2004
Despite Hermione's 'pep talk', Harry still felt incredibly nervous at the prospect at the impending 'dates' he was expected to share with Sirius.
It had consumed his thoughts so thoroughly that he'd entirely forgotten that he was to receive another gift from Sirius first. It was late that rainy afternoon when Harry was startled out of his anxious thoughts by a sharp tapping on his window.
Harry cursed as he spilled firewhisky down his front, and cleaned himself up hastily as he stood to let the owl in, it sporting another large package in its talons.
Just like last time, the moment Harry unlatched the window Sirius's owl swept in, dropped the package on his kitchen table, and flew off without so much as a backward glance.
The package was very different compared the last two, at least in shape. The first and second had been thick and rectangular, whereas this one was much more narrow, though Harry had no idea what to expect as he stepped forward, plucked off the envelope attached to the front of it, and moved to slit it open, but was stopped short by a quick note scrawled on the back of it.
Open the gift first.
Confused and curious, Harry set down the envelope and shifted his attention to the gift, and carefully unwrapped it. It was much heavier then the first two, but the moment he'd touched it, Harry knew it had to be something magical, given the calming tingle that brushed his fingertips as he handled the gift.
Harry ripped away the paper to find...a flower.
He had done well enough in Herbology to know that it was an orchid of some kind, its petals a soft blue with flecks of lavender sealed in a glass case. The bottom of the case was filled with about two inches of light brown pebbles, then a thick layer of soil over top of it. The flower was swaying slightly in a nonexistent breeze, and Harry stared at it bemusedly, uncertain why Sirius would send Harry such a thing. The first two gifts had made perfect sense to him, but this one...
Suddenly, Harry remembered the letter.
He picked it up and slit it open, hoping that the letter carried some sort of explanation.
Harry,
For the third gift, I am supposed to show you that I am capable of caring for you, and any children we may have. (Harry winced at this, but forced himself to keep reading) This is called a Serenity Orchid. It is a very delicate plant, and highly sensitive to air temperature, soil acidity, etc. The case it is in is called a BioCase, and will do all the work of taking care of the flower for you.
Serenity Orchids are highly magical, and they're used in a lot of sedative potions, but it's also supposed to grant peace of mind to its owner when properly cared for. It is my hope that this will help to calm some of your anxieties regarding this courtship—as I've said over a dozen times, I'm doing all I can to make this easy on you.
Sirius
Harry set down the letter and looked at the plant again. He wasn't sure if it was a suggestive thing or the magic of it at work, but he did feel a little calmer as he looked at it. He reached out and brushed his fingers along the edge of the glass, and he could feel the faint tingle of the plant's magical properties tingle his fingers. He smiled a little, and carefully picked up the gift and moved it to his fireplace mantle, where it would get the most sun.
Even after setting it down and taking a step back, Harry found it difficult to tear his gaze from the plant. It was almost hypnotizing, and he felt a swell of affection towards his godfather. Not love, but appreciative affection. With each gift, Sirius had shown Harry both how well he actually knew him, and the frequent promise that he would do all he could to give Harry a full and happy life with him, even though neither of them would have ever willingly chosen this.
“Thank you, Sirius,” Harry whispered, then grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle to call over Hermione.
20th September, 2004
“That is what you're wearing for your date?”
Harry stopped short and turned to Hermione, who had been waiting for him to get changed. She had helped herself to a cup of tea and was perched in his favourite armchair looking at him with a look of minor incredulity.
“What's wrong with it?” Harry looked down at himself, while he tried to ignore the word she'd used—date. It was still beyond strange that he was going on a date with his godfather. Sirius had sent his owl with a note telling him to dress how he normally did, and that there was no need for robes (dress or otherwise). He'd taken that note to heart, and was dressed in his 'nice' jeans—expensive black denim that he'd only worn out once or twice when he'd gone out for a pub crawl with Ron. With it, he'd pulled on his dragonhide belt with silver buckle, a black T-shirt, and a fitted V-neck jumper in deep green layered over top.
“Jeans? For a date?”
“Would you please stop calling it that?” Harry demanded as he felt his face grow warm. “Sirius told me to dress how I normally do, but I figured I may as well do the thing properly and try to make myself look a little more posh, so why are you complaining?”
“Oh, it's just...I mean, don't you have anything nicer?” Harry raised his eyebrows to her question and she rolled her eyes. “Forget I asked that, of course you don't. You know Harry, one of these days I'm going to have Ginny help me take you proper clothes shopping.”
“Yeah good luck with that,” Harry replied with a snort, though the glint in Hermione's eye was a bit unnerving.
A soft tap on the door drew the pair out of their discussion, and Harry felt himself caught between, oh thank God, and oh God, this is it. He was relieved to have an out from a discussion about his taste in clothes (or lack thereof, apparently), and the sudden reminder of why he was dressed up to begin with. Harry took a breath to steady himself, he slid his wand into the back pocket of his jeans, before he made for the door.
“Hey Harry,” Sirius said the moment he'd opened it, and Harry felt a warm flush creep up his cheeks.
“Er, hi,” he replied, while he took in the sight of Sirius and Andromeda. She stood back a little and offered Harry a small nod and smile before he refocused his gaze on his supposed 'date'. Sirius was dressed similarly, in dark jeans and a fitted black button-down shirt. Harry felt his flush worsen when he noticed Sirius's eyes give him the once-over, and then he hesitantly reached out his hand to Harry and waited for him to take it.
Harry stared at the extended appendage for a moment in a daze, and it was only when Hermione gave him a small nudge did he remember that they were all waiting for him. He took a stiff step forward and took Sirius's hand, and swallowed thickly when Sirius shifted his grip and threaded his fingers with Harry's. The small action struck him as a definitely-not-platonic form of hand-holding, and Harry was again reminded what all these 'meetings' were leading up to. Harry hoped that his fear did not show on his face.
With a gentle tug, Sirius led Harry down the staircase and out into the bright Autumn sunshine, and he could feel his palm beginning to sweat against Sirius's. He couldn't quite work out why he was so nervous this time around compared to their previous 'dates', but there seemed to be an intimacy to this encounter that had not been there before, and Harry hated how uneasy it was making him. He knew from Hermione's near-constant reassurance that Sirius wasn't allowed to do anything naughty (yet), but it did little to reassure him of this fact.
They walked in silence for a few minutes with Andromeda and Hermione a few steps behind them, but the silence felt heavy and awkward to Harry, and he took a stab at breaking it.
“So, erm, where are we going today?” He asked, and winced a little at the way his voice shook.
Sirius looked at him from the corner of his eye, and Harry did not miss the look of hurt he saw in his eyes. Harry felt his gut twist guiltily, but Sirius did not give him a chance to apologize as he answered Harry's question.
“It's a surprise,” he replied with a faint smile, and Harry frowned a little. The lack of hint as to what they were doing wasn't exactly reassuring. Sirius seemed to sense his unease and added, “nothing ridiculous, I promise, I didn't want you to feel awkward or out of place.”
“We wouldn't want that,” Harry replied, and smiled ruefully. Sirius chuckled a little, and drew a small narrow datebook from his pocket with his free hand. “Portkey?”
Harry could see Andromeda offering a similar Portkey to Hermione out of the corner of his eye, and he refocused his gaze on his godfather as he reached out to touch the book.
One dizzying trip later, the first thing Harry was aware of was that he was not sprawled on the ground. A strong arm around his waist had kept him from falling, and he felt his face grow warm at the contact. The instant Harry straightened up Sirius let his arm drop, and Harry looked around. They hadn't gone far, in fact, they were still in London. He recognized the muggle shops, and he blinked bemusedly.
“All right, why are we in Sutton Court?” Harry asked, laughter in his tone, and Sirius smirked a little.
“You'll see, c'mon,” he replied, and took Harry's hand again. Sirius led him down the street, and paused in front of a large building. Harry knew at once that it had to be a a wizarding establishment, given how the muggles that passed by did not seem to notice its presence at all. The front of the building seemed to be made entirely of glass, and a wooden, naturalist-style sign above the doors read, Natura: London's Magical Botanical Gardens.
Below that there was a second sign, scrawled hastily on a piece of parchment and affixed to the window with spellotape. This one read simply, No press.
“Reporters aren't allowed in here anymore,” Sirius explained as he led Harry towards the doors, with Hermione and Andromeda still trailing behind. “A few years ago, one of The Weird Sisters was here and she got mobbed by reporters, and all the chaos put so much stress on some of the plants that they up and died. A lot of the ones here are from abroad, and so replacing them was really difficult. Since then, press isn't allowed inside so we'll have a Paparazzi-free afternoon.”
“Brilliant,” Harry grinned, and felt himself relax a little. In fact, following the explanation, even Sirius's hand in his did not feel as strange.
Sirius paid at the gate, a concept that still did not sit well with Harry, but he knew that it was all part of this ridiculous, archaic courtship. He couldn't wait for all of this to be over so that he could feel less like some sort of high-class lady, and more like himself again.
Harry did not know what to expect with these gardens, but once they had passed through the entrance and into the main building itself, Harry felt his breath catch at the sight before him.
The entire building seemed to be built out of glass, and natural sunlight poured in through the panes, illuminating cobblestone paths around immaculately kept gardens with the most fascinating plants and flowers Harry had even seen. Some he recognized—Mandrakes, Venomous Tentacula, Snapdragons, but most were completely foreign to him. There were toadstools so large that Harry could have easily sat on one without worry that he'd break it, flowers varying in size from blooms as large as a Quaffle to as small as the head of a pin. There were pools filled with lily pads, frogs, and koi fish, a false waterfall surrounded by twisting vines, and at the very back of the gardens was an Arboretum, though how they had managed to fit a small forest in the centre of London without the muggles noticing was well beyond him.
They wove through the gardens, following the pathways, and pausing occasionally to observe a particular plant or another. Harry was quite taken with the Chinese snake gourds, which hissed and snapped at them when they got too close, then relaxed again when they backed off, taking on the appearance of an overlarge cucumber. Sirius appeared highly amused when Harry tried to speak to them in parseltongue, though he couldn't understand it anymore, he could still recall some of the sounds, but the gourd, unfortunately, did not react.
After a couple of hours they took a break for lunch at the small café tucked at the back of the vast place. Over greasy plates of fish and chips, Harry once more had that sudden flash of emotion—that feeling that everything really would be all right, that it wouldn't be anywhere near as awful as he'd originally imagined. It was almost as though the courtship had never happened, and Harry found himself smiling—even laughing along with Sirius as they chatted away. Andromeda and Hermione were still close by, a few tables over, but Harry found it surprisingly easy to keep his attention focused on Sirius, even when he would casually reach out and touch the back of his hand, or take his arm. It still felt strange to him, but Harry was beginning to get used to it.
“It's so weird...” Harry began, breaking the silence an hour later while they watched a few of the Gardens' employees feed hunks of red meat on long hooks to a giant Venus Fly Trap.
“What's weird?” Sirius asked, moving to drape an arm over Harry's shoulders. Like any physical contact that he shared with his godfather of late, it sparked a war in Harry's mind, both marvelling at the strange intimacy of it, and the unnerving reminder that he would have to get used to it, or the rest of his life would likely be very unpleasant. Harry leant into the contact, hoping that doing so would lessen his unease.
“How easy this...date has been,” Harry replied, and winced a little at the wording. He was marginally relieved when he saw that the word had had a similar effect on Sirius. “I mean, it almost feels like old times, before all this happened.”
For a moment, Sirius appeared shocked by Harry's admission. His eyes went a little wide, and Harry watched his jaw muscles tense. He swallowed nervously; had he been wrong to tell Sirius that?
“It's good,” Sirius said at last, removing his arm from around Harry to take one of his hands. “I think, at least. I want you to be happy, Harry. I know neither of us picked this, but...we can make it work, I think.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, and for the first time in well over an hour his eyes strayed from Sirius and over to Hermione and Andromeda. Hermione beamed at him.
As their date drew to a close, Sirius escorted Harry home(with their chaperones close behind). His smiles at Harry came more easily, and Harry felt more relaxed than he had in a long time.
“Well,” Harry said as they stopped outside the door of his flat, “erm, I suppose I'll see you in a few days?”
“Yeah, our next date is supposed to be on the twenty-third,” Sirius replied, wincing a little at the phrasing.
“Okay, erm,” Harry paused, and he felt his face grow a little warm. “Thanks for today, I had a really good time.”
“It was my pleasure, Harry,” Sirius replied as he stepped a little closer, a question in his eyes. Harry could feel his heart jump into his throat, and he knew exactly what Sirius was asking. He nodded once.
Sirius brushed his lips over Harry's, and he felt himself shiver a little as he returned the kiss. It was over as quickly as it had begun, and Harry watched dazedly as Sirius stepped back, offered him one last smile, then with Andromeda at his side, they headed down the stairs and out of the building. Hermione meanwhile, with a huge grin on her face, followed Harry into his flat.
“Well, that wasn't awful,” Harry said to her as he shut the door and leant back against it. She grinned at him and he felt himself go a little warm.
“You looked like you enjoyed yourself,” Hermione remarked as Harry pushed himself off the door and they headed for the kitchen, where Harry set about making a tea for them both, and Hermione grabbed a box of biscuits out of the cabinet.
“It's weird,” Harry continued after they'd sat down, “like...today, I dunno, it just sort of felt like old times, like nothing had changed.”
“Well that's good, isn't it? It means you two are getting more comfortable around each other again.”
“It is, I guess,” he replied with a vague shrug as he sipped his tea, “it just...I dunno, it still feels wrong.”
“It is wrong,” Hermione agreed with a small frown, “I mean, on many levels, it really is. But... Sirius is a good man, and I can see that he's really trying to make you feel comfortable with everything...and make you happy. He cares about you, Harry.”
Harry picked up a biscuit and turned it in his hand. Harry knew that Sirius cared for him, and he was doing everything he could to ease Harry into this and not make him feel pressured. He agreed with Hermione—from a social standpoint, it was very, very wrong. It still felt very much like he'd been thrown into a romantic relationship with a relative.
There was nothing Harry could do about that, however. It was something he had to do, whether he liked it or not. The further they went with this courtship, the more at ease Harry felt. He, too, was doing his best to not make it hard on Sirius, as difficult as that was at times. Harry knew that Sirius wanted this about as much as he did, but they were going to have a future together—one neither of them would ever have chosen. Harry knew that he would have to put his reservations aside, and the more time that passed, the easier doing so seemed to be.
“I know he does,” Harry replied at last, “I just don't know what that means anymore.”
Harry bit into the biscuit; Hermione didn't have an answer for him.
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