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Catching the Train	By : SpeedyTomato Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 88963 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 14
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and make no money off this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Beta'd by the most wonderful, amazing and stupendous Tenchi. Woman, you are the best and love you for all you do for me!

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

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Chapter 8

Tugging at the shackles that held his hands above his head, Harry groaned, eyes sliding shut, head dropping back. At the moment, he was standing naked in the middle of their bedroom, hands shackled above his head from the ceiling, waiting for Sirius to finish his shower. He had already taken his, of course, but was waiting for Sirius to get him dressed. They had to be at Hogwarts soon for the funerals and other ceremonies. It was his hope that this wouldn't be a long, drawn out thing, but figured it would end up that way.
Eyes still shut, he shifted slightly, trying to stay as comfortable as he could while he waited. A lazy grin on his face, he sighed. His arse was sore again. They had just had another bout of fairly rough sex that not only left it that way, but made him tired as well. And he was relaxed in a good way. He felt good enough that he thought he could deal with most anything, provided that someone didn't go out of their way to get on his nerves.
Head coming up, eyes blinking open, he looked at the door to the loo when he heard it open, to see Sirius come out, wrapped in nothing but a towel. With a groan, he straightened up and tried to keep his head upright. All he really wanted to do was sleep, but he couldn't.
Holding his towel up, Sirius came over and kissed Harry tenderly. “As soon as I get dressed, I'll do the same for you.” Seeing his godson nod and yawn, Sirius grinned then ruffled his hair. This was good.
Walking over to the dresser where the clothes they were both going to wear were waiting for him, he then dropped the towel and began to tug his clothing on. Everything was going perfect so far. Harry was relaxed from the sex, something that would only help. The expression on his face was as close to normal as he was sure they could manage. From the look of things, Harry was as tired as he had felt when he took his shower. Though he had downed some Pepper-Up while in the loo, he wouldn't give any to Harry. This way Harry would be more relaxed and not as likely to end up with someone setting him off. Though Harry could easily dress himself and get ready, he wanted to do that to reinforce who was in charge. It was a minor thing, of course, but something he wanted as they were about to take on the most stressful issue to date. So, he wanted this to go as smoothly as possible. Arthur had already promised to have his family sit with them, making sure they were flanked on either side by the ones that wouldn't drive Harry barmy. That they needed. All he had to focus on was keeping just about everyone away from Harry. It wouldn't be easy, but he was up to the challenge. It was also the first true test of what they had in place. Though stressful, it would give him an idea of what was working and what wasn’t, something he could use later on.
Finishing up, he made sure everything was in place and his hair was combed out then he grabbed Harry's clothes. Draping them over one arm, he walked over to his godson and sighed, looking at what was there. Shaking his head, he told his godson, “I'm going to dress you in a set of my robes for this. Your clothes—yeah, we're getting you some new ones this week. That's all there is to it. I found the best you have and we can make do with those. The robes I can shrink to fit you and they'll look fine.”
Draping the clothes over his shoulder, he vanished the shackles then made sure Harry was steady on his feet. “Stand still and I'll get you dressed,” he told his godson. Seeing Harry obey, pleased with that, he began to get his clothes on him. It was awkward, as he hadn't done this before, but he managed. While he did, he talked, “Just stick as close to me as you can. All you have to do. I'll even be by your side for the award you get. From what I understand, this is going to be as quick as Kingsley can manage.” He had gotten a letter from the man that morning laying out what was coming so Sirius knew what to expect and could deal with it accordingly. That helped, tremendously. With that, he could plan out what to stay wary of. “Kingsley said he's going to keep you out of as much of this as he can. We're also going to sit in the back to stay away from most everyone. He also told me that the press will only be allowed in a certain area. They can't just walk all over. This is, after all, a funeral. It's not their right to intrude on people's grief.”
“Good,” Harry nodded, holding still and paying attention to what Sirius was doing so he could move accordingly with what was needed. “I do not want anything to do with anyone from the Prophet. Especially Rita.”
“Rita isn't allowed. Period.” Sirius told him as he stepped back to make sure everything was in place. It was, something that pleased him, which meant all he had left was the robes to put on then shrink. “Kingsley knows just what she's like and doesn't want her around.” Giving an amused snort, he added, “I'm sure that you factor in there as well. No way in hell do any of us want her around you. That would lead to a nightmare.”
“I have plenty I want to say to her,” Harry admitted, grinning slightly evilly. Shaking his head, he added, tone weary, “Its best I don't. I just want them to leave me alone.”
“That we're going to try for when it comes to all of them,” Sirius told him, pleased that the discussion didn't bring on the reaction it had before when Harry was irked. From what he observed, it was the fact that Harry appeared tired as the reason for him not going in that direction. Perfect! Slipping the robes over Harry's head and getting them in place, he then did a quick shrinking spell. He wasn't one to know the household-y type spells that would result in a perfect fit with clothes, but this worked and the robes looked fine to him. Nodding, pleased, he then looked at Harry's hair and snorted. Grinning, he said, “I'll brush out that mess on your head, but I don't think I'll manage to get it to lay flat.”
“I don't think anything could manage that,” Harry admitted, yawning. Shaking his head, he tried to focus. That wasn't easy as he just wanted to sleep. “I hope this goes quick. If it doesn't, I'm liable to fall asleep.”
“I'll keep you awake, don't worry,” Sirius assured him as he summoned the brush and went to work on the mop that stuck up all over. When he finished and it was at least brushed out, though still standing up, he took a step back then looked at his godson. Seeing Harry gaze at him, he asked, gently, trying to judge what he might need to know to deal with the coming situation, “Can you tell me what you're feeling? Other than tired that is.” Stopping, he waited. He assumed, with what he now knew, that Harry was feeling something. After all, some of those they were going to bury today Harry knew well and would mourn. He was feeling that as well, though it was pushed back slightly by him having to focus on Harry and what he had to deal with there.
Brow furrowed, Harry looked down and thought that over. Shaking his head, he admitted, “I don't know. I really don't.” Giving a shrug, he sighed, “It's complicated.”
“Talk me through it,” Sirius said, reaching out and putting a hand on Harry's head, rubbing it softly. It was something he really did need to know.
Lifting his eyes and gazing back at Sirius, Harry said, slowly, “Part of me is focused on the idiots we had to deal with over the last couple weeks, like with the Ministry. Umbridge is someone I hope isn't there as I want to blow up all over her for her stupidity and what she did.”
“Umbridge is in jail,” Sirius told him. “Kingsley made sure of it. The same with all the others that followed that evil arsehole in the government. You won't have to deal with them.” That was good to know, though, as he was aware who he might have to keep an eye out for.
Happy with that, Harry was relieved. Thinking, eyes lowered, he told Sirius with another sigh, “It's so complicated. I'm angry, about plenty. I don't want to really deal with anyone because of that. With what I'm feeling, they're going to set me off. Under that, though, it's just hard to decipher. There is so much there that I don't know what parts are what.”
Thinking it over, now realizing he probably needed to keep almost everyone away from Harry lest they set him off, Sirius asked, gently, “Is part of it grief and pain? I mean, we both lost plenty of people we cared about.”
Lifting his eyes and gazing at Sirius, Harry thought that over then said, softly, “Yes. It hurts. I mean—you know. It just makes me angry that it does and I just want to hurt something or someone for it.”
Stepping closer, Sirius pulled his godson into a tight hug. “Plenty of us feel that way when we hurt, Harry. And this has to hurt, a lot.” Rubbing Harry's back, feeling his godson wrap his arms around him, he soothed, “We'll get through it. Both of us. We both hurt over this. Just stay close to me and we'll manage together. It's all we can do.”
Resting his forehead on Sirius' shoulder, Harry didn't know what to say. That darkness—it was driving the anger, but what was beneath it wasn't going away either, something that seemed to fuel the darkness even more. “I don't want to do this,” he finally said softly. “I don't want to face any of it or get some dumb award for killing that snake-faced bastard. It's—with all we went through since last summer—it right pisses me off that they now want me to be their hero.”
Holding Harry tighter, putting a hand on the back of his head, Sirius told him gently, “I understand, completely. Some of it pisses me off as well. So much hell could have been avoided in this mess. And the way you were treated shouldn't have happened. We'll get through it together.” That, though, told him that Harry was grieving in his own way, something that hurt. It was just driving other parts, like the anger. That he would have to watch out for, but Harry was allowed to feel that way, just like anyone else. He wouldn't say a word about it. All he needed to do was watch out for fools that might set him off with their stupidity.
Breaking off the hug, he said, after checking the time, “We need to get the Burrow. The plan is for us to go with everyone there in a group.”
Nodding, Harry sighed. He didn't want to do this, but he would. All he hoped was that it was over fast.

Slipping an arm around Harry's waist, Sirius peered down at the Order of Merlin his godson was holding then to the Chocolate Frog cards that were presented to him. The cards had his picture on them. Giving Harry a squeeze, he said, “We'll find somewhere special for them when we get home, somewhere they can be displayed.” Despite his apprehension, the ceremony had gone well. Well, for what it was anyway. There were plenty of emotions from everyone. Harry, though, actually slept through most of it. As they had the forethought to grab his sunglasses, Harry had put those on, not something out of place as many wore them to hide their eyes, then leaned against him and dozed for a large part of it. That was good. Oh, he had been awake for the relevant parts, like the dedications and those that talked about the people they lost, like friends and family. Even during the awards ceremony Harry had been quiet, leaning against him as he accepted his Order of Merlin to thunderous applause. There were twitters about him being there with Harry, the bonding was mentioned, but Harry had seemed to ignore it, staying quiet. He was sure that what would go in the papers the next day would chalk it up to grief. After all, it was a highly emotional ceremony for everyone. Those getting the awards had all been subdued.
After a glance at Sirius, Harry looked down at what he saw as a useless award then shook his head. As far as he was concerned, it meant nothing and it could get tossed in a box then stored somewhere. He wouldn't say that, though. Instead, he just leaned against Sirius, hurting. It wasn't a physical pain, but an emotional one over so much and the losses represented by the ceremony. And he was angry over plenty, including that it hurt. He was keeping it under control, though. Being tired helped that. All he could really focus on was getting some sleep.
Sighing, Harry shook his head and was about to ask Sirius when they could go home as he just wanted to sleep, when that anger than had been simmering turned up to a full boil. Eyes narrowing, jaw clenched, his head whipped in the direction from which he heard his name called. Seeing Rita herself standing there, he gripped the medal so tight his fingers ached, wand clenched tightly in his other hand. That bitch! Oh, she was someone he wanted to 'talk' to, that was for damned sure.
Sliding over to the largish group of Weasleys, all of whom were throwing dark looks her way, Harry and who she knew to be Sirius Black, Rita asked, trying to go for a sympathetic tone, “How are you feeling, Harry? This had to hurt. You are the great hero, of course, ending that maniacs reign of terror, but it can't make up for what you went through and all those you lost.”
Feeling Harry tense up, knowing this wasn't good, Sirius' head swiveled in her direction then he snarled, “Get out of here, Skeeter! You were banned from being on the grounds!” Casting furtive glances around, he was pleased to see Molly shoo Ginny off, telling her to get Kingsley. Good. He just hoped the man would get there before Harry completely blew his stack and he had to invoke the bond to back him off. Up until now, he hadn't had to do that and could manage another way. Fingering the leash to send off the signal to try to distract his godson, Sirius glared at the bitch. It didn't seem to work, though, with either of them.
Stepping closer, acid green quill already scribbling away, Rita asked, “With all that's happened and what you went through, how are you feeling?” Eyes flitting to Black, who looked like he was about to explode, she asked, tone simpering, “And you're bonded to your godfather. The Prophet's readers are most interested in hearing how and why that happened. After all, he was dead, so you must have brought him back somehow.” Stopping, she waited, knowing whatever she got from this was bound to be good.
That was all Harry could take. Snarling, he raised his wand and leveled it at her. “Look! What I do is my business. What I feel is my business. I'm sure not going to talk to anyone from the Prophet about it, especially you! The only thing all of you from the Prophet did when that maniac took over was cringe and do what he wanted. You did nothing to stand up to him or try to help. Instead, you bowed and wrote what they told you to write. Some journalists! Kids stood up to him. Kids, Rita. Children in this school. While all of you adults did nothing but bemoan what was going on. You didn't help. Now you want me to tell you what's going on? That's not happening!” Trying to pull away from Sirius, who was holding on to him, Harry's eyes flashed dangerously as his wand stayed trained on her. “You're pathetic! All of you at the Prophet are! We're here to bury the people that helped end this nightmare and you want gossip!”
Snarling that what he was doing wasn't working and not wanting to invoke the bond around so many, especially Skeeter, Sirius wrapped an arm around Harry and held him tightly, trying to pull him back. With his other hand, he tried to get his godson to lower his wand. He was sure that Harry wouldn't have a problem hexing the bitch into oblivion. And he couldn't blame him one damned bit over it. However, he was equally sure, with what Harry was dealing with, it probably wouldn't stop at a few simple hexes. That they didn't need either. “Harry, stop,” he muttered, knowing his godson could hear. “If you do this, it'll just make you look horrible.” It wasn't helping, though, Harry was too lost in his anger to pull him back.
“Get away from me and stay away, Rita,” Harry snarled, wand not lowering, wanting to throw the worst he could think of at the bitch. With that, he tried pulling away from Sirius to give it a shot. Of all the people in this world he wouldn't have a problem hexing, it was her.
This was getting worse as time went on and Sirius was sure that Harry was really going to hex her as he was so lost in his anger that nothing was distracting him. Shaking his head, gritting his teeth, Sirius invoked the bond, internally, something that would yank Harry to him. It was similar to the leash, though something tied to the bond they did on the other side and solidified by the official one. Instantly, Harry's arm yanked down, almost like someone had a hold of it then he spun around and pressed to his chest. Wrapping both arms around his godson, Sirius held him close, hoping it looked like Harry was just upset to everyone around. Rubbing Harry's back, he snarled at the bitch, “Get the hell away from us!” Holding Harry tightly, he could feel him tremble. At first, he was sure it almost pure rage at not being able to vent on the bitch. Then, though, Harry's shoulders started to shake and he wrapped both his arms around him, fists clenching in the back of Sirius' robes. It was then Sirius realized that there was probably plenty of fury there, but there was also plenty of grief. It was just channeling into the fury. “I have you,” he mumbled so only Harry could hear, rubbing his back. He was about to say more to Skeeter when an irate Kingsley showed up.
“And how did you get on the grounds? We barred you from attending,” Kingsley thundered, glaring at the woman, who actually seemed sadistically pleased with the scene she was witnessing, her quill scribbling madly.
“Because she's an unregistered Animagus,” a tearful Hermione sniffed, leaning against Ron. “A beetle to be precise.”
Seeing Skeeter actually pale at that revelation, Kingsley arched an eyebrow then said, “Oh, really?” Lifting his wand, he cast a spell on her to reveal if she was. Watching her turn into a beetle, her pad and pen dropping to the ground, he quickly conjured a jar and put her in it. After securing the lid, he pointed his wand at pad and pen, incinerating them. Lifting his chin, he said, handing the jar over to the two officers from the DMLE that came over, “We'll deal with her accordingly.”
“You might want to talk to her about how she got the information for her book. Part of it came from her using Veritaserum on poor old Bathilda,” Hermione told him, eyes drifting to Harry, who was still clinging to Sirius.
“We'll look into that as well,” Kingsley told her with a grim smile. Lowering his voice, he said, “Sirius, why don't you get out of here with Harry. We can keep the reporters away until you do. I'm sure that all of them are plenty curious and want to ask questions.”
“We'll do that,” Sirius told him with a sigh. Looking at the concerned Arthur and tearful Molly, he said, “We'll be over a bit later. Give us some time.” Seeing them nod, he coaxed Harry to loosen his grip. Gently, he said, “We're going home, Harry.” When his godson lifted his head and looked at him, he saw the red rimmed eyes. Yeah, that was enough to tell him what was driving this. They just needed some time alone for Harry to calm down.

Curled up in bed, both of them naked, Sirius was holding the sleeping Harry close. His godson was taking a nap before they went back over to the Weasley's. It wouldn't be a long one, but Harry needed rest. For plenty of reasons. Running his fingers through Harry's hair, he sighed and kicked himself. Rita wasn't someone he had been prepared for yet and that bit him on the arse. He hadn't wanted to invoke the bond in public either, but had little choice. On the upside, though, was the fact he now knew it worked. That would help later on as they went through this mess. At least he knew it would trigger and could stop whatever.
Looking down at Harry, whose brow was furrowed even as he slept, Sirius shook his head. This was Harry's one 'gimme', meaning he would get away with ignoring what he said and not deal with repercussions from it. That he would make clear to him later on when they talked after they tended to all they still had on their plates and they were calmed down from the stresses of the day. With that, he was kicking himself more for not realizing that some of the silence from Harry was because he was hurting. That he should have recognized and dealt with. The part of his godson that dealt with his emotions, other than the anger, was still there, as he was aware, and he hadn't thought that he was heavily affected because of him sleeping. What he should have done was talk to him a little to get out of him what was going on. He could have then dealt accordingly with whatever it was. That was all on him and it was his responsibility to do that. It was him that partially failed there because he didn't. That wouldn't happen again either. He would make damned sure of it.
Shutting his eyes, he groaned. He, too, was tired and wanted a nap. At least a short one. That would reset plenty. Snagging his wand, he set an alarm then doused the lights before sliding down and curling up to the sleeping Harry. Later on he would deal with the fallout from his failure and see what he could do. While the truth was he hadn’t had much time to put anything into place, the fact remained that he hadn't done enough. No, that wouldn't continue and he would find a better way to go about it. Harry had been so driven by that darkness, that he could, and did, ignore everything. That couldn't continue either. His godson would have to learn to pull back when he was told to, no matter what. For now, though, sleeping, and holding Harry while he did, was what he wanted. That he would do as it would only help the both of them.
- 7
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- 9
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Catching the Train