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 just want to give a shoutout to the tsunami of comments I got from you guys on the previous chapter. I had no idea how that cliffy would be received, and so I was really glad that you guys liked it so much. I hope I continue to live up to your expectations with today's instalment, and I'll see you guys on Thursday! :)
Chapter Nine – Hearth and Home
6th November, 2004
The tapping of an owl's beak had become such a frequent sound in Harry's flat that he'd become rather good at tuning it out. After a fortnight of it, that was to be expected, after all.
In that time, Harry had not left his flat. He had not spoken to anyone, and warded his flat against a certain well-meaning, bushy-haired friend of his to keep her from bursting in and grabbing him by the ear again. He turned away every owl, even when he was fairly certain that they weren't from Sirius, and was quite content to wallow in what was being asked of him, despair over it, and decidedly not deal with it.
Of course, Harry should have remembered that sooner or later, all good things must come to an end.
Around noon, after Harry had completed his morning ritual of ignore-the-owl and drink strong black coffee, a loud banging sounded from his door.
“Harry James Potter, you open this door right now!” Hermione's shrill yells sounded from the other side, and Harry winced at the sound of it.
“Go away, Hermione!” Harry called back, his voice cracking from lack of use, “leave me alone!”
“I am not leaving until you open this door!” she screamed in reply, “you're twenty-five for God's sake, not five!”
“If I want to wallow in this shitty excuse for a life, that's my damn business!” he yelled, “go away!”
Harry heard her mutter something, though after a moment Harry guessed it had to be 'oh this is ridiculous,' or something to that effect. He listened apprehensively to her mutter under her breath for several minutes before Harry heard her cry, “Reducto!” and his front door was promptly blasted open, splintering both his wards and the wood in the process.
“Hermione!” Harry squawked indignantly as he jumped up and she stomped over the threshold, and he felt all the colour drain from his face, because she was not alone.
Trailing behind Hermione, a guilty, uncertain look in his eyes, was Sirius.
Given that Harry was in his dressing gown and little else, his frightened pallor shifted quickly to embarrassment as he pulled the article of clothing more tightly around himself. Sirius was frowning at him, his expression caught between concern and relief, but even so, Harry did not miss the quick flick his eyes made to the thin line of his exposed chest.
“I'm going to get dressed,” he muttered, and quickly rushed out of the room.
~*~
Harry took as much time as he dared getting dressed—it took less than thirty seconds to fish out some clean jeans and a T-shirt from the mountain of clean clothes he'd piled on his desk chair, and he did everything he could to slow down the process. After fifteen minutes, Harry could hear the edge of irritation in Hermione's voice mount as she spoke to Sirius, and in favour of not getting dragged out of his bedroom again by Hermione holding onto his ear, he shuffled back into the sitting room.
The sight of Sirius made Harry's stomach turn over most unpleasantly, though he tried to not let it show on his face—he didn't want to make Sirius feel any worse. If the stricken look upon his face was any indication, Harry was sure that he had failed quite spectacularly. Sirius moved as though to stand and approach him, but paused at the last moment, his movements freezing as though he was afraid of scaring Harry off if he made the wrong move. Thankfully, Hermione came to the rescue before the situation was able to get any more awkward.
“Come sit down, Harry,” she said in a gentle, nonthreatening tone, and Harry stepped towards them with stiff, awkward movements.
Harry sat next to Sirius on the sofa, but the older man made no move to approach him. Harry was a little confused by this attitude, but was unable to comment on it as at that same moment Hermione began to speak.
“So, Harry,” she began awkwardly, “I think you may have gotten a little overwhelmed at the negotiations...about what is expected of you, I mean.” Harry snorted; a little was a bit of an understatement.
“Harry,” Sirius said gently, almost timidly, and Harry turned to face the older man as Sirius covered one of Harry's hands with both of his. After such a long stretch of time with no physical contact of any kind the sudden touch made him flinch, but Sirius didn't let him go. His gaze hardened as he continued to speak. “You have to understand that it's not me asking you to do any of this. If I had my way, none of this would have happened. I don't want to tie you down, or put you through that procedure any more than you want to do it. It's our ancestors forcing this on us, and one way or another...it'll have to be done.”
“If you want Sirius to do it instead of you that is an option,” Hermione said in a similar, gentle tone, almost like she and Sirius were talking to a spooked deer, and not a person. “But...because of his age, it could be very dangerous. You're a lot younger than him, and you're less likely to suffer any life-threatening complications because of it. None of this is permanent, Harry, you have to do it at least once, and then the curse will settle, and you'll be able to go back to having some kind of a normal life.”
With a child and a husband, Harry thought, but the sour tone in his mind kept him from spitting out the words verbally. He didn't hate the idea of being with Sirius, at least, not how he used to, and he could see that Sirius already felt horribly guilty about everything, and Harry didn't want to make him feel any worse.
“It's not that I don't want kids,” Harry hedged, unable to look at Sirius as he continued to speak. “I just...I didn't think that it would be like...like this. Hell, I didn't even know this was possible until the courtship-thing started. I just...Two years is a really long time to be...indisposed.” Harry did not mention that the idea of growing certain parts made him feel even more uncomfortable...emasculated. How could they expect him to not feel like a girl when he was being asked to grow a pair of...Harry shook his head; thinking about it was making him more anxious, and not less.
“We don't have to do it straightaway Harry,” Sirius said in the same gentle tone, “after the wedding, we'll have five years to complete that requirement of Potestas. It's a good chunk of time for you to—er, get used to the idea.”
The wedding.
In all the panic over the fact that Sirius had to knock him up, Harry had completely forgotten about it.
“Harry,” Sirius voice snapped Harry out of his daze, and he looked up at his godfather questioningly. “Come here.”
He gently urged Harry forward, and at first, Harry hesitated to comply, not completely certain what Sirius wanted. After a moment he relented, and Sirius closed the distance between them. His large hands moved to cradle Harry's cheeks, and he leant in to kiss him.
This was not one of the tentative, gentle brushes of lips that they'd shared so far. There was a distinctive heat to it, and Harry felt his breath hitch a little in surprise at the depth of the kiss. He could feel Sirius's mouth twitch into a faint smile against his, and his hands dropped to gently hold onto Harry's hips. The hold did not restrict him, and it was quite clear that if Harry wanted to pull back, he could. Despite the offer, Harry felt almost at though Sirius's kiss had some sort of restorative quality to it, and he felt some of the anxiety that had plagued him for the last fortnight begin to dissolve.
When Sirius slowly pulled away, it left Harry feeling a little dazed. He continued to hold Harry close, and leant forward a little so that their foreheads pressed together, and Sirius gazed into Harry's eyes with a warm smile.
“I'm doing everything that I can to not make you feel pushed into anything,” Sirius murmured so softly that Harry was certain that Hermione wouldn't have been able to hear him. “I know it's a lot to take in, and it isn't exactly ideal, but I promise you...things will work out...we'll be okay.”
Harry dropped his gaze, his face still flushed from the kiss, though he could still feel Sirius's eyes boring into him intently. He moved his hand to rest it over Sirius's at his hip. He turned it almost at once to thread their fingers together. Harry squeezed it lightly.
“I hope so.” He relaxed into the embrace, and felt a small shiver course through him. He knew that Hermione and Sirius probably came here to get him to agree to...it. Harry shuddered again; he couldn't even think the word without feeling slightly queasy from fright.
“Why don't we take a break from the negotiations for a little while, hm?” Sirius murmured suddenly, almost as though he was sensing Harry's thoughts. “I know we sort of sprung this on you, and maybe some time to think on it and decide whether you want to do it, or...if you'd rather I do it instead.”
Harry rotated his shoulders to try and get rid of some of the tension there, but it didn't help as much as he hoped that it would. At Sirius's suggestion, Harry felt his shoulders slump a little as he relaxed; more time to think on it wasn't exactly Harry's ideal—it gave him ample time to obsessively fret over it, but it was still better than forcing himself to agree to something he hadn't completely processed, and really didn't want to do. He tightened his hold on Sirius, and Sirius in turn reached up to card a hand through his hair in a comforting gesture. Harry let out a soft sigh, and leant forward to rest his cheek against Sirius's shoulder.
Though neither man spoke, understanding radiated between them without effort.
12th November, 2004
“Harry, we need to talk about something,” Hermione said, her calm, even tone not giving away any hints as to what she wanted to talk about this time, though Harry had a fairly good idea what she wanted to discuss. She leant against the door frame to Harry's bathroom and with half his jaw still slathered in shaving cream, he turned to her and arched an eyebrow.
“What about?”
“Sirius.”
“We're always talking about Sirius and this damn courtship,” Harry said grumpily as he turned back to the mirror, “what is is this time?”
“It's how you're treating him, Harry,” she said, her voice laced with hurt. Harry paused again and turned to stare at her. He hadn't the faintest idea what he'd done that was so bad to warrant such a sad look, and with a shake of his head, he quickly turned back to the mirror.
“Just give me one second,” he said and quickly finished shaving, then turned back to her for the third time as he mopped the excess lather off his face. “Now, what are you on about? What d'you mean how I'm treating Sirius? I didn't do anything!”
“Exactly, Harry,” she said with a frown and crossed her arms, not letting him pass. “Ever since all this started, you've been acting like it's a death sentence or something,” Hermione paused as Harry opened his mouth angrily, but she held up a hand, stopping him short. “Let me finish. Sirius has made every effort to make this easy on you, to not make you feel pushed, or cornered, or anything, and he's done everything he can within the parameters of this courtship to make you happy—and you're still resisting like...like...”
“Well can you blame me, Hermione?” Harry snapped, “no matter what happens, it won't change the fact that Sirius is my godfather. And the fact that he's so...so...okay with this just makes things more confusing! I don't—I don't want to give him the wrong idea.”
“Whatever gave you the idea that Sirius is okay with this?” She asked, her head cocked to the side in confusion.
“You said it yourself, that day at the Burrow. Sirius is in love with me.” Harry felt his face burn, and his stomach squirmed uneasily. “Clearly he's into it.”
“He's in love with you now, Harry,” Hermione replied, as though that simple explanation cleared everything up. Harry assumed that something in his blank stare gave away his confusion, and she elaborated, thankfully without any comment on his significant lack of observation skills.
“Sirius was horrified when he found out what happened,” Hermione began, looking away from him as she spoke. “He felt like it was almost criminal, and he felt like agreeing to it would make him a child molester. But Harry, if Sirius had refused to go through with it, or if you had, both of you would have lost your magic completely.
“There wasn't a way out of this that any of us knew of, and for the fist twenty-four hours or so Sirius wasn't exactly what you would call helpful. He seemed much more interested in drowning his worries in a bottle of Ogden's than confront the fact that his and your bloodline magics were forcing you two to marry one another. Andromeda told me an abridged version of her talks with Sirius, and they were pretty much the same ones I gave you.”
“Suck it up and deal with it because there's no way out?” Harry offered, and she laughed a little.
“Something like that. Ever since, Sirius has been doing everything he can to ease you into this, make you feel comfortable, make sure that you know that you can trust him. But Harry, you're not offering Sirius the same courtesy. He knows that you wouldn't choose this. Harry, he knows that. But constantly acting like you're set to wed...Umbridge or someone—” Hermione broke off and they both shuddered at the mental image, “I just mean, what harm would it do to reciprocate, even a little?”
Harry looked at Hermione, frowning a little. She was right, as always, and he knew that he was only making himself (and Sirius) miserable with his attitude. It was difficult to shake off the sheer wrongness of the entire situation and how deeply he didn't want to admit that his pull to his godfather was definitely no longer completely platonic, but it wasn't what he'd call romantic feelings, either.
That in itself scared him, and though he knew that he had to let go and start seeing Sirius in a very different light, it wasn't as simple as blowing out a candle. He felt caught between the gnawing, persistent fact that clung to the back of his thoughts at all times, reminding him repeatedly that no matter what, Sirius was and always would be his godfather, and the fact that now when Sirius held him, or kissed him, or even smiled at him, there was a warm tingle that rushed through him that hadn't been there before. He couldn't call it romantic love, but it certainly was something.
“All right,” Harry replied at last with a heavy sigh, “I'll—I'll try.”
“That's all I ask,” Hermione said with a kind smile, a note of relief in her gaze. “Now, come on, they're waiting for us.”
“House shopping, lovely.” Harry bit back any more complaints when Hermione glared at him, and grudgingly followed her out of the flat.
~*~
After they met Sirius and Andromeda outside Sirius's flat where they were waiting with the Realtor, Sirius was quick to take Harry by the hand and give it a small squeeze. The light contact made Harry's heart flutter, as did the concerned, but warm smile that Sirius greeted him with.
“All right?” he asked, his hand slipping out of Harry's to slide up his arm and drape it over his shoulders, and gave him a small squeeze. Even with a jumper on, Harry could feel his skin break out into gooseflesh at the light touch.
“Fine,” he replied, but winced when his voice escaped him as little more than a squeak. “I'm okay, really,” he added when Sirius looked as though he didn't believe him, “just a little exhausted, it's been a chaotic few months.”
“Yeah, that would be putting it mildly,” Sirius replied with a snort. At that moment, the Realtor appeared, and moved to Hermione and Andromeda, greeting them kindly, and offering Harry and Sirius a small nod, indicating that it was time to go. “C'mon, let's get this over with.”
Breaking out into his first genuine smile all day, Harry gripped Sirius as he pulled him by Side-Along Apparition.
Harry had expected House Hunting to be terribly dull, but in reality it turned out to be quite the opposite. With each new place that they visited, Harry was repeatedly reminded that whatever house they chose, it wouldn't simply be a house. It would be a home for them—together.
That random thought popped into Harry's head so often that by the fourth viewing, he already felt exhausted. Sirius seemed to sense this as he wrapped an arm around Harry and offered him a gentle squeeze as they stepped out of the modest two-storey Suffolk house.
“Just one more for today,” Sirius said consolingly, “then we can crash.”
With a grateful smile, they Disapparated for the sixth time, and reappeared in Hogsmeade.
Hermione and Andromeda appeared a moment later while Harry looked around to get his bearings. The Realtor, who had accompanied them to each previous house, was nowhere to be seen. They stood along the line of cottages Harry remembered from when he performed the Rite of Acceptance, but along with the witch, he couldn't see any for sale signs, either.
“Come on,” Sirius said gently as he slipped his hand over Harry's, “it's not much farther.”
With Hermione and Andromeda trailing behind them, Sirius led Harry along the line of houses, past the Courtship Tree, and when they were almost at the very edge of the village where it gave way to craggy mountain, Sirius turned and led Harry up a narrow, winding path into the forest. It had been paved into an attractive walkway, made of a number of flat stones in various sizes, which led up to a little cottage. It wasn't deep into the wood, but far enough that they had plenty of privacy from potentially nosy neighbours.
The cottage itself was made of grey cobbled stone with a slate roof, the front door was some sort of sturdy, polished wood, and the perimeter of the little house was surrounded by flower gardens. Harry recognized a few of the blooms from his Herbology lessons—Trout Lilies, Trilliums, Spring Beauties—but the rest were completely unknown to him. What shocked him most of all was the way his breath caught and his heart beat a little harder in his chest at the sight of the house, and this time, he knew for a fact that it was not out of nerves.
At that same moment, the Realtor stepped outside, smiling at them both warmly. One thing Harry really liked about her was the fact that she carried no judgment in her eyes in relation to their slightly unconventional relationship, and had treated them as she would anyone else, which Harry greatly appreciated. Sirius took the lead as they stepped the rest of the way up to the door, and she offered them another smile.
“Mr Black, Mr Potter,” she greeted, as though she hadn't seen them in ages, though in reality it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes, “come inside, I have a feeling you'll like this one.” Her eyes shifted to Harry as she spoke, and he felt his neck grow a little warm under her gaze.
She stepped back into the cottage and held the door for Sirius and Harry. They stepped inside, and Sirius dropped Harry's hand as he stepped farther inside, enraptured with what he was seeing.
In some ways, it was much like every other house they had seen that day—empty rooms, extinguished fireplaces and gas lamps, but something about this one spoke to Harry.
The front door opened to a cozy sitting room with a fireplace built out of similar cobblestones to the outside, and inside the walls had been lined with wooden panelling a shade darker than the hardwood under his feet. From their standpoint Harry could see an open-concept dining area next to an entryway that led to a small kitchen, while the other seemed to lead to some sort of hallway.
As if in a trance, Harry stepped over to the kitchen first. The countertops were made of granite, the cupboards of some sort of pale wood, and the single window above the wash basin looked out onto the back garden, of which half was taken up by intricate garden patches of fruits and vegetables, as well as an old pear tree. Squeezed in next to the oven was the back door, and Harry opened it tentatively to find a simple porch, where an ancient, rickety wooden rocking chair still sat.
Harry closed the door and backed out of the kitchen, then made for the hallway he had seen. It contained three empty rooms and a lavatory, every single one of the bedrooms containing large windows that enabled so much sun to pour in that it was almost as though they were lit by electric lights.
When Harry finally stepped back into the sitting room, he found Sirius leaning casually against the wall next to the front door, arms crossed, and a self-satisfied smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth.
That bastard, Harry thought with a faint grin of his own, he knew that I'd fall in love with this one all along.
Struggling to not overthink his following action, Harry strode forward brazenly, wrapped his arms around Sirius's neck, and pulled him in for a hard kiss.
At first, Sirius froze, shocked by the sudden show of affection, but relaxed into it almost at once. He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist to pull him closer, and Harry shivered a little as their bodies pressed together.
Hermione cleared her throat pointedly, but the pair ignored her, the kiss slowly beginning to deepen, and it was only when Andromeda said, “Sirius,” in a warning tone that they parted. Harry was smiling sheepishly, his face very red, and Sirius was grinning broadly. The older man turned his attention to the Realtor, whose smile seemed to have become rather fixed.
“We'll take it,” he said with his arms still looped around Harry.
~*~
An hour later, Harry tumbled out of his fireplace with Hermione following suit not thirty seconds later.
“Well, that was certainly an improvement,” she remarked as she stood up and brushed herself off.
“Yeah, I know signing a deed with my handwriting how it is these days—”
“—that is not what I meant and you know it, Harry,” Hermione interrupted with a laugh, “I mean your reaction to that last house, which, by the way, is very nice. I'm sure you'll be happy there.”
“Yeah, it's nice,” Harry said with a wistful tone, though he wasn't completely certain whether he meant the house or the kiss.
“So...” Hermione said as she wandered over to his kitchen, still smiling at him approvingly, “think you're ready to get back to the negotiations?”
Harry hesitated; to return to them meant that he had to address the pregnancy thing again, and the mere thought of it still made him feel decidedly sick with fright. At the same time however, he knew that it was both inevitable, and he had a good five years to emotionally prepare himself for it. Even with Sirius's offer to go through it instead of him, the references to the fact that it might be dangerous for Sirius worried him, and in the end, as with so many other times in his life, Harry knew that it would have to be him.
20th November, 2004
Harry felt a strange sense of dèjà vu as he settled down next to Sirius at the Burrow once more.
The negotiations contract sat open before them, completely filled out save for one space near the bottom: Heirs.
Even seeing the word left Harry with a cold sense of dread in the pit of his stomach.
A warm hand rested over his own, and he looked up at Sirius. His fear must have shown upon his face, as the older man shifted closer so that they were thigh to thigh, and Sirius moved to wrap a secure arm around Harry's waist. Where once the contact would have felt completely alien to him, now Harry welcomed it gladly. He felt grounded by Sirius's presence, and reassured that he genuinely meant it when he had said (repeatedly) that he wouldn't push Harry into anything he didn't feel ready for—as much as he could, at least.
“Let's not set a date for this aspect of it just yet,” Sirius said, “and just agree that within the next five years, when you feel ready, we'll go forward with it.”
“Yeah, that sounds reasonable,” Harry said, his voice shaking a little, “but, um, just one, okay? I—I don't think I'd be able to go through all that more than once.” Harry paused as he chewed the inside of his cheek as he added, “I always wanted a big family but...maybe if later we want more we could adopt or something?” his voice devolved into something close to a squeak, and he winced a little bit at the sound of it.
“'Course,” Sirius replied at once, “but remember that heirs by this standard means a male child,” he grimaced, and offered Harry an apologetic look, “if we have a girl, you'd have go through it again.”
“Gotta love sexist familial curses,” Harry muttered darkly, but he nodded. The quill danced across the page, then paused next to four thick lines along the bottom of the contract.
Sirius and Harry both signed, followed by Hermione and Andromeda, then the contract rolled up on its own, sealed itself with a wax seal bearing the Black family crest, and disappeared.
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