#sirius and harry

[jensjskdm]

the angst implicit in harry going to live with sirius…. he’s canonically a hot-headed and angry kid (despite his kindness) and after years of neglect and psychological abuse in which he had to be quite independent, sirius’ hovering is more likely to piss him off than make him feel wanted at first. he’s used to being alone, without support from adults or without any support at all. To go from that to a parent who sets a curfew and doesn’t let him eat too much sweets and grounds him when he messes up is overwhelming and he’s more likely to react with anger and frustration with sirius rather than gratefulness when he is first adjusting. just a thought

[timdrakemybeloved]

he would have been so smug and annoying lmfaoooo

i just know sirius would have been fucking ecstatic if he'd known harry thought regulus was distinctly less handsome than him

[seaandstormstar]

Why cant I find a fic of Sirius and Harry without Remus involved where he's always shown to be the better and more responsible parent? He was never a father figure to Harry, hell he was 'Lupin' throughout the books and he never reached out or maintained contact, he did not want to be any sort of father figure so why do people insist on him being one? Forget about being better he was barely even present while Sirius dedicated himself entirely to his godson

[sunsfawn]

babysitting gone wrong

[siriusblackdevotee]

No one's devoted to Harry quite like Sirius is and Jily is so into that.

Sirius could literally just be holding baby Harry in his arms, staring at the sleeping baby in awed silence, realizing he would do so many things just for this little creature, like he's actually falling in love all over again and Jily would be watching him from some corner of the room, falling in love with him.

(also he is the uncle that spoils Harry rotten cause he's weak af to Harry, but we all know that)

It's only when it's getting obvious even Harry is attached to Sirius (comfortable in Sirius' arms but kicks a fuss in any other friend's arms, seeking out to be in Sirius's arms, constantly demanding Sirius to come over and getting violently upset when Sirius isn't nearby, squealing loud and happily when Sirius is coming over) that Jily decides it's time to pursue him and make them a family of four officially.

Also Jily (me) has a fetish for people that are insanely good with kids and Sirius is the Harry Whisperer so....

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

baby harry in the mean-phase all toddlers go through constantly criticizing james ("daddy why are your eyes so close together?"), lily ("mommy your tummy is squishier than our bed!"), peter ("i can see your head through your hair"), remus ("you're poor."), etc but he literally never ever says anything bad about sirius ever. lily's like "say something about him too!!" and harry's like "i like padfoot's bike <33" and james is like "no say something bad!" and harry's like "no padfoot is perfect."

[littlestoneinspace]

Sirius and Harry after Voldemort's defeat

(i fixed canon for you sweethearts)

[outromoony]

The first time James saw Sirius he thought: this one’s going to get me in trouble.

The last time James saw Sirius he thought: I trust you with my life.

The first time Sirius saw Harry he thought: he looks just like him.

The last time Sirius saw Harry he thought: he looks just like him.

[my-castles-crumbling]

gift - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 393

"Hey, Moony!"

"Moo!"

Remus grinned as he walked through the door with Lily, the sound of Sirius and Harry's greetings making him chuckle.

But his chuckles quickly turned into an all-out fit of laughter when he got to the kitchen to take in the scene before him:

Harry and Sirius were at the table, which was covered with old issues of The Daily Prophet and had paints and brushes scattered across it. However, Sirius's admittedly-mature effort at keeping things clean must have gone horribly awry at some point, because both boys were covered in paints of every color, and there were smears of paint on the floor, counter, chairs, and- ceiling? How they managed that, Remus didn't want to know.

Luckily, Lily seemed to take it all in stride, because she walked in behind Remus and said, "Wow, you two! You've had some fun today, huh?"

Harry let out a squeal of approval and threw a paintbrush across the room.

"Harry painted you and Prongs!" Sirius declared proudly, gesturing to a painting that consisted entirely of lines and blotches. ("Maaaa Daaaa!")

"Well, he's certainly got abstract painting under control," Lily remarked with a grin, plucking Harry up from his infant chair. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?"

She disappeared up the stairs with a babbling Harry.

"Harry's going to be sad when Prongs gets back from his trip and you don't have to watch him every day anymore," Remus remarked lightly, grinning at Sirius, who was picking paint out of his hair.

But Sirius just laughed and gestured to another painting. "I made something for you. Could be worth millions someday," he said with a wink.

Remus looked at the paper. It was...unsophisticated. Two stick figures, one taller than the other. The shorter one had black hair and the taller one wore what could only be described as a ridiculous sweater with polka dots that Remus suspected were finger-painted on.

They were holding hands.

"It's us," Sirius shrugged, smiling softly.

Remus tried not to get too emotional over a silly little painting, but something about it tugged at his heartstrings. He swallowed the lump in his throat and laughed lightly. "You clearly have a gift, Pads."

"Wanker."

"I love you," Remus murmured, pulling Sirius into a hug.

"Love you more."

They hung the picture on their fridge when they got home.

[deswhomst]

i don’t agree with the whole “harry and sirius both saw james in each other” theory/headcanon.

to me, harry could not see james in sirius because harry did not know james. all he saw in sirius was family and a father figure, which sirius was! sirius was his godfather. harry looked up to sirius as who sirius was. it’s impossible for harry to see the ghost of someone he never knew in a person he knew and loved.

and while i do agree that sirius saw james in harry, i also DESPISE the “nice one, james!” line. those were not sirius’ last words to harry. in his final moment, sirius was trying to protect HARRY. not james. i hate hate hate that line with my entire being. if someone says it to me as if it’s a good addition or source of good angst, i will CRASH OUT.

[myrows]

Sleeping beauties

[jmagnabo92]

Snippet

I've been tagged by @gracelesslady23 @groundzero-v @soup-of-the-daisies @lovelymasks and @strugglequill in the last few weeks

SOOO - here is a snippet from the "Cooking Together" prompt with for Harry and Sirius Month.

***

“Hey, kid,” Sirius states.  “Come on in.”

Harry doesn’t hesitate to move beside him.  “What are you doing cooking at one in the morning?”

“Oh, well, I appreciate Molly’s cooking, naturally, but I, er, I miss cooking myself.”

“I didn’t realize you cooked,” Harry says, eyes curious.  “Kind of figured that you wouldn’t have been much of a cook.  My aunt always said that cooking was not a man’s work…” 

He trails off as if there’s more to that than suggesting a stereotype but doesn’t want to tell Sirius what it is. 

Sirius hums and lets it go.  “Well, your grandmother always insisted that your dad and I know how to take care of ourselves, which included being able to cook for ourselves.”

“My grandmother?” Harry asks, eyes wide.

Sirius is aware that Harry probably doesn’t know much about his family, but it always jars him to hear it from Harry.  

He clears his throat.  “Yes, your Potter grandmother, Euphemia.  She liked to go by Effie, but I always called her mum since my mother –”

“Is a horrible hag?” Harry offers, before looking terrified that maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

Sirius laughs.  “Exactly.”

Thanks guys! Hope you like it!

[zazima]

im rusty. so rusty. and also extremely late for christmas. i may as well have waited 350 days until the holidays came around again, but im trying to write more this year, so hear you go? eek im nervous. please pardon any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes. enjoy! also tumblr doesn't seem to have line breaks so sorry if any time jumps are confusing.

also a warning for language and mentions of wanting to step in front of a bus as an extreme response to being embarrassed. i swear this is all fluff otherwise.

Harry doesn't know what to get Sirius for Christmas.

Well, to clarify, Harry doesn't know if he can get Sirius anything adequately worth a damn. Because how can a game (magical or not) or piece of art or trinket or any sort of anything say hey Merry Christmas and by the way, thanks for saving me from my horrible abusive household where I lived in a cupboard and for wrangling a fucked up wizarding judicial system so that it both exonerates you from a murder you didn't commit and lets you adopt a kid you only properly met six months ago.

Harry would also like the gift (if he ever manages to find something) to say also thank you for giving me my own bedroom and for making pancakes every Saturday morning and for letting me visit my friends and for playing two-man Quidditch with me and for ruffling my hair and for always letting me pick the film that we watch and for telling me stories about my parents and for always being just enough and for not pushing me when I have nothing to say and for calling me by my name instead of shouting boy angrily-

Harry figures that he should cut himself off there. Any more gratitudes and the gift will literally be impossible to find, lest it be the size of Hogwarts in an effort to cram any and all unspoken messages Harry doesn't have the courage to voice out loud.

So Harry does what he usually does in a sticky situation. He turns to his friends.

No clue mate, Ron writes. I normally get Mum perfume and Dad whatever Muggle trinket he's been obsessing over. So unless Sirius wants a rubber duck, I probably won't be much help. But you could probably give him one and he'd be ecstatic. You're pretty much his favorite person right now.

Ah bloody hell. Do you think I should get Sirius something as a thanks for Pig?

Even though he's sure Ron's right (although Padfoot might enjoy a rubber duck more than Sirius), Harry doesn't have time to add Ron's own gift conundrum to his list of problems, so he turns to Hermione, who ends up being a bit more helpful.

I know you said that Sirius was interested in curse-breaking and how it can be used to help with cleaning up Grimmauld Place, so maybe something pertaining to that? A book or starter kit? Or perhaps something a bit more personal, something he couldn't just buy in a shop. Don't worry too much, Harry. He'll love whatever it is you give him because it's you.

Harry disregards the book suggestion immediately. Sirius does read; over the holiday break the two of them have taken to sitting quietly on opposite sides of the couch in the sitting room, reading books from the Black family library and munching on the latest treat Mrs. Weasley has sent them while flames blaze in the fireplace, only breaking the peaceful quiet occasionally to share whatever interesting passage has just been read. But Harry doesn't want to give a present that reminds Sirius of the exhausting work they do every day trying to make Grimmauld Place a habitable home.

Hermione's other suggestion, however, gets Harry thinking. Something he couldn't just buy in a shop. That obviously eliminates all of the last-resort items Harry had on his mental list, as they were dumb things he had planned to frantically order by mail once he gave up on the idea of finding something good enough for Sirius. But it also opens up a new idea, something that Harry himself had appreciated when he had received it a few years ago.

He begins firing off letters and mail-in order forms with an efficiency Hermione would admire. The owls return in quick fashion, up to three or four a day. Sirius doesn't notice anything at first, but when Hedwig taps on the kitchen window for the second time that day during breakfast, he gets up and lets her in with a raised eyebrow at Harry.

"Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment?" he asks, somewhat incredulously, peering at the label on the package. "Harry, love, you know we can just go to Diagon Alley whenever you'd like. No need to rely on owl post if you're running low on supplies."

Harry flushes and snatches the small, soft package from Hedwig, stuffing it under his armpit and looking determinedly at his porridge. He hopes he doesn't have ACTUALLY IT'S PART OF YOUR CHRISTMAS PRESENT written all over his face.

"It's fine," he shrugs, aiming for casual nonchalance with his tone. "It's just a small thing. No point in going all the way down to Diagon Alley. Besides, the crowds would drive you crazy. They'd probably give you a concussion trying to get a picture."

Sirius grimaces, probably thinking of their last attempt to go for an ice cream at Fortescue's shortly before Harry had left for the fall term. They'd returned to Grimmauld Place ice cream-less and with a giant tear down the front of Harry's robes.

"Nothing a Glamour Charm wouldn't fix," he responds, grabbing his own empty bowl and bringing it to the sink. "Anyway, it's not fair for us to be shut up in this damned house because some people can't behave themselves in public. You just let me know whenever you want to go out, alright? I promise I won't breathe down your neck while you look at potions ingredients and whatnot. Even if they all suspiciously happen to be ingredients for an Enlarging Potion."

He manages to ruffle Harry's hair before the boy squawks out a "Sirius!" and darts out the kitchen, cackling in response to Harry's sputtered "I'm not... I wouldn't... SIRIUS!"

As Christmas approaches, Harry begins to stay up later and later into the night, working frantically to finish Sirius' present. One late night (or early morning, really), he hears a gentle knock on his door. He jumps and shoves the half completed project under his comforter.

"Come in!"

Sirius peeks his head through the cracked open door. "Are you alright? I was getting a glass of water and noticed your light was still on."

Harry nods, trying to convey a casualness he doesn't feel beneath the stress of wanting to have the present ready by Christmas morning. "Yes. Fine. I was just... reading." He reaches for his nightstand and holds up the latest book he's knicked from the Black family library for this exact purpose.

Sirius raises an eyebrow. "You sure? I've read that one before. Couldn't last more than thirty seconds at a time without falling asleep."

Harry glances at the cover. He hasn't even cracked it open yet. "It's actually quite interesting. I've always been fascinated by... the evolution of wizarding legalese from 1500 to 1800." He internally winces as the subject matter is finally made apparent to his sleep-deprived brain.

Sirius pauses, clearly sensing that something's up. He must decide that now's not the time to probe further because he says, "Alright. You're stronger than me, then. Let me know if you need anything though." He begins to retreat and close the bedroom door but stops right before he actually does. "I forgot, " he murmurs, opening the door wide and stepping fully into Harry's bedroom. He approaches Harry where he's sitting on his bed. Harry tries to discretely shove the half-finished present further under the covers. "You had a letter downstairs. We must have missed it earlier. I only saw it when I was getting water." He hands over a rather thick envelope to Harry, who flips it over, notes the name of the sender, and smiles, relieved.

Sirius lets out a small puff of air, and Harry looks up at the sound. Sirius pastes on a rather strained smile. "Do you often write to Mrs. Weasley?"

Harry's brain scrambles for a response. "Erm. Not really."

He doesn't say anything else, unsure how to explain away the situation convincingly. A rather awkward silence settles between them. Sirius looks as if he's summoning the courage to say something.

Sirius takes a deep breath. "I'm here if you ever want to talk, Harry. I know the Weasley's have always been great to you, and I never want to feel like you're getting that taken away. But, I just want you to know that I'm also here, in addition to them. For anything. No questions asked or judgement cast. Alright?"

The letter slips out of Harry's grip, as he frantically waves his hands in front of him, desperate to correct Sirius' perception of the situation. "Oh, no, Sirius, I know! I swear it. We were just... planning Ron's birthday present this year. They wanted to throw him a party." The fib comes easily.

Sirius visibly relaxes. "Oh. Ron's birthday's not until April though."

"Yes," Harry's brain scrambles for an explanation. "But you know how Mrs. Weasley is. Always trying to stay ahead. She's already starting to plan the menu. Fretting between bacon sandwiches or chicken legs for the main course."

Sirius shakes his head, a genuine smile starting to form on his face. "Well you know my vote is always for chicken legs. Assuming I'm invited of course."

"You know you're always invited. Mrs. Weasley always wants an opportunity to make sure you're feeding me properly," Harry rolls his eyes. "And Ron thinks you're pretty cool too. Even though you broke his leg."

Sirius gives him a mock scowl. "Hey now! I wasn't in my right mind that night. And I gave him an owl to make up for it! Even though I was probably doing myself more of a favor than him. That damned owl was driving me mad."

Harry giggles, and Sirius' smile grows wider at the sound. He lets out a dramatic sigh and leans over to ruffle Harry's hair, ignoring the sounds of protest that come in response to the action.

"Alright then, love. I'm off to bed. Shout if you need anything, and I'll be here in faster than you can say chicken legs. You hear me?"

Harry nods. "Yes sir."

Sirius scowls for real this time. "None of that now, remember?"

Harry nods again, this time rather sheepishly. Sirius bends over to kiss his forehead before heading out of the bedroom, shouting a "Good night!" over his shoulder before he closes the door behind him.

Harry sighs in relief, pulls the present out from underneath the comforter, tears open Mrs. Weasley's letter, and gets back to work.

The morning of the 25th is bright and cold.

Harry is a ball of nerves as the breakfast plates get cleared away and the two of them prepare to go to the sitting room to open presents. Padfoot had barged into Harry's room at half past seven, barking loudly and leaping onto the bed, nearly giving Harry a heart attack in the process. He'd only finished Sirius' present in the wee hours of the morning and had barely managed to shove it into his desk drawer before he'd fallen asleep.

Sirius had dragged Harry into the kitchen for special Christmas chocolate chip pancakes and hot chocolate but had only allowed Harry to start eating once he agreed to don a ridiculously oversized Santa hat that matched the one Sirius had on his own head.

"If I'd known you liked Christmas so much, I'd have taken you to the Muggle mall to get a picture with Santa," Harry grumbles only half-heartedly as he watches the milk heat up on the hob. Sirius was adamant about making hot chocolate the old-fashioned way.

Sirius laughs loudly and hooks his arm around Harry's neck, pulling him close and planting a kiss on his forehead with a loud smack. "It's our first Christmas together, kiddo! First of many. You can get past your anti-morning attitude for that, can't you?"

"I gueeeeeeees," Harry mock-whines, drawing out the word as he adds the chopped chocolate to the steaming milk. He's secretly pleased that Sirius seems to somewhat enjoy his company. It shows he's not such a terrible charge.

"Thank you for your sacrifice," Sirius states dramatically. He gives Harry one last squeeze before releasing him. "Now come on, let's get to presents. I call going first!" He darts off to the sitting room where, overnight, a large pile of presents has piled in front of the eight-foot tall tree Sirius had dragged home one afternoon (with lots of swearing).

Harry gulps nervously as he pours hot chocolate into two mugs and tops them both with a handful of marshmallows. His hands are slightly shaking as he brings them both to the sitting room. Sirius is poking around the heap of gifts as he enters the room, and Harry spots the hastily wrapped, lumpy package he completed only a few hours ago.

Please like it, please like it, please like it, he silently begs as he sets the mugs on the coffee table. The sight of the gift is almost nauseating, and he keeps his eyes fixed on the hot chocolate.

Sirius turns at the sound to spot Harry and grins. "Alrighty, kiddo, what do you want to unwrap first? I did go a bit overboard this year, you'll have to forgive me. But there's plenty here from your friends!" He's practically vibrating with excitement.

Harry straightens his back and clears his throat. "Actually, do you mind if you do the opening first?"

Sirius pauses. "Are you sure? I swear mine are quite good."

Harry nods vigorously. "Yes. You can start with mine. It's right on top. The green wrapping." Let's just get this over with, he thinks.

Sirius picks up the package and shakes it gently. It makes no noise, and Harry can't help but let out a chuckle despite the knots in his stomach. Sirius grins at him and begins to carefully unwrap the gift.

Harry's legs suddenly feel like treacle tart filling. He lowers himself onto the couch so he doesn't pass out.

The wrapper paper gently falls to the ground, revealing a mound of knit material. Sirius unravels the pile to reveal a rather lumpy, oversized navy blue sweater with a slightly misshapen black dog woven onto the front.

Sirius doesn't say anything.

Harry's heart drops to his stomach. He opens his mouth, desperate to explain away the situation. "It's uh... it's... erm... it's a sweater? I made it?" As if that wasn't fucking obvious, he internally snarls at himself. He shakes his head, trying to organize his thoughts. "Yes, I, um, I made it. That's uh... that's Padfoot. On the front of it. I knitted it."

Sirius doesn't say anything.

Harry's words start coming out faster and faster, hoping something comes out that remedies this clusterfuck of an event. "Mrs. Weasley helped me. She sent me instructions. And the patterns? That 's why she was sending me so many letters. I didn't know how to do it. They aren't throwing a party for Ron."

Sirius still doesn't say anything.

Oh fuck! Harry thinks wildly. He's probably livid I lied. Oh fuck fuck fuck. "I'm sorry I lied to you! I just wanted it to be a surprise," he manages to get out. "That's why I was ordering so much through owl post. I had to get the yarn and the needles. And I kept having to order more yarn because I kept getting frustrated and messing up a lot. I didn't want you to know. Until now, that is. Obviously."

Sirius. Still. Doesn't. Say. Anything.

Harry wants to crawl into a hole and die. But for some stupid, idiotic reason, he keeps speaking. "I wasn't sure if you'd like the color? I actually realized that I don't know what your favorite color is. But whenever Mrs. Weasley makes one for me or for the Weasley kids, she usually does our favorite color. Or house colors. But I figured you have lots of things in Gryffindor colors? Like your wand holster. And then I noticed that you wear a lot of navy. So I thought that might be nice."

If Sirius doesn't say anything, Harry just might call the Knight Bus so he can step in front of it. He decides to get everything off of his chest before he has to do so.

"Mrs... uh... Mrs. Weasley made me one," he explains softly. "My first year. And every year after that. It means a lot to me. I think it was probably the first gift I ever got. And it kind of made me feel like part of their family? A little bit at least. So... so I wanted to give you one. Not from her, of course. But from me. So you could feel like a part of... our family?" His sentence embarrassingly ends like a question, so he hastily tacks on, "If you want to, of course."

Sirius finally moves, and Harry shuts his mouth. He gently sets the sweater down on the armchair next to him, walks over to where Harry is sitting, and pulls him up into the tightest, fiercest hug Harry has ever experienced.

Neither say anything for a few moments. Until Harry can't deal with not being able to breathe and squeaks out, "Uh? Sirius? I can't really inhale."

Sirius releases him quickly and takes a step back. "Sorry."

Harry feels awkward again. He clears his throat, hoping to fill the silence with something. "I hope you like it. But I know it's not done very well. So I can take it apart if you'd rather that. The shop said they'd take the yarn back as long as it wasn't too worn."

Sirius' head snaps up. "What? Harry, my love, I don't not like it. I love it."

Harry's mouth goes dry. "What?"

Sirius gives him a small smile. His eyes look suspiciously glassy. "Harry. You made this for me. You made this for me! It's my favorite color, and it's got me on it! Of course I love it. Not just because you took the time and the effort to make something for me. Because, my goodness, how do you even start with something like this? It must have taken you ages. But also because, well, you said it yourself. I mean, I already felt like part of the same family with the whole adoption bit and knowing you since you were a baby and whatnot, but it's always nice to know you feel the same. And I'm so honored to be a part of your family. Always will be. You have to know that, alright?" Sirius presses their foreheads together. "Alright?"

Harry nods, feeling a little something catch in his throat. He nods.

"Thank you for my gift," Sirius says softly. "I love it. No talk about talking it apart. I'll be proper mad if you do, you hear me?"

Harry nods again. Sirius releases him. He grabs the sweater from the armchair and pulls it over his head. The hem is uneven and the dog looks more like a cat once the sweater settles on his body, but Sirius only looks down at it and grins.

"Now come on, it's your turn to open presents. I don't think any of mine are as good as a handmade sweater, but I hope you like them anyway. And that's got me thinking, we ought to do a Christmas card no? Especially now that I've got a nice sweater on. Mrs. Weasley might tear up at the sight of a photo of the two us. Come on, come on, pick a present."

Harry rolls his eyes without any real heat behind the action. And he doesn't say anything later when he feels a burst of pride when he sees the photo they take in front of the Christmas tree that afternoon, Sirius wearing the sweater with the biggest, proudest smile Harry has ever seen.

He just bottles the feeling and hopes to remember it forever.

[beemoon17]

Desperate for a proper LONG Harry Potter fanfic where Sirius and Harry’s relationship isn’t devalued, treated as second rate to Harry’s relationship with some other random adult, and Sirius isn’t treated as some immature child who doesn’t really care about or know Harry. This is my only requirement, it can be about anything, although I do prefer non straight central relationships if there is romance. I’d also be interested in shorter or mid length fics focused on Sirius and Harry’s relationship.

NOT romantic Harry and Sirius PLEASE!

[fangirljas]

Many of us, downplay or downright neglect the grief Sirius carries for being the instigator that killed 12 muggles.

He recalls their horrified screams, the misery that followed him after the blast and finding himself in the crater formed. Unable to believe his friend murdered all this people and left him there?!

The children nearby are crying which reminds him of baby Harry and him being an orphan now......

And Sirius was to blame for all this! He didn't just ruin the most important family to him but so many others who got caught up in the crossfire!!

If he had just cornered wormtail on desserted street....If just...if....please!!!

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

friendly reminder that sirius got harry his first broomstick and his last