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Sirius leans back in his chair with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s starting to feel a headache prodding somewhere behind his eyes, a sure sign he’d been at this for too long. He stands, stretching slowly, twisting his shoulders slightly before shaking them out. He had shut himself in the office for some peace and quiet, unable to put off the work he needed to get done, leaving Remus to look after Harry.
He hated it though, always felt like he was missing out whenever he wasn’t with Harry. Especially since he didn’t have to work, he had enough money for the three of them to live more than comfortably anyway, but both he and Remus had agreed that they needed something to focus on outside of their home. So that was why they had started their practice in the first place, helping wixens and other magical folks, or creatures, in need of legal support, but unable to pay for it. They hardly ever charged anyone for their work, they didn’t do it for the money. Moony did the research, and Sirius took pleasure in parading through the halls of the Ministry or the courtrooms and beating pompous Ministry representatives at their own game.
This time it was a Muggleborn witch with a young child who was in trouble. She had been in an abusive relationship, her good-for-nothing husband threatening to hurt both her and the child, and she had used magic to defend herself. Her Muggle husband had been quite severely injured, and the Ministry claimed it was a breach of the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy and tried to prosecute her for it. It was, quite frankly, bullshit, Sirius thought, and he was adamant on proving that in court.
His gaze snags on something out the window and he leans forward slightly, seeing Harry crouched down and half-way hidden underneath one of the blackcurrant bushes at the end of their garden. He smiles a little at the sight of his godson, no, he checks himself quickly, his son, now, since the process had finally been approved and finalised by the Ministry.
He and Remus hadn’t considered adoption at first, it didn’t feel necessary, they were both Harry’s godfathers and they had absolutely no desire to replace James or Lily, but as Harry grew older it soon became clear that adoption did have its advantages. He was turning five, soon, and Sirius still couldn’t quite believe he’d already been with them for almost four years. Four years since James and Lily had died, and whenever he thought about it, it still felt as if it was only yesterday.
Being thrust into parenthood hadn’t been easy. Neither he nor Remus had hesitated even for a second about taking Harry in but going straight into full-time parenting while they were still reeling from the loss of their friends hadn’t been easy. Harry had helped though, with a one-year-old to care for they had been forced to carry on. And every day that Harry grew a little bit older, Sirius felt as if they were on the right track. By now they had built their own little family, found a cottage on the outskirts of Newhaven, between Brighton and Eastbourne, where they were able to keep Harry out of the public eye. They were both very aware that it would change when Harry got older, he would attend Hogwarts eventually, but for now, it was only the three of them and Sirius liked it that way.
He leaves the home office they had built, quickly deciding work could wait, and makes his way through the house and out into their back garden. Remus is sitting on the back porch, long legs folded underneath himself and a book open in his lap. He’s got his head bowed over what he’s reading, brown curls falling into his face and he's chewing on his bottom lip again, something Sirius recognised from when they were kids. He can’t help but smile as he sees him, running his fingers lightly over his partner's head, playing with the curls at the back of his neck, “Hey.”
Remus looks up, a small smile playing over his lips as he leans into the touch slightly, “Hi.”
“Everything okay?”
“Fine,” Remus nods, closing his book after slotting a bookmark into place. “You already done? What time is it?”
“Barely gone four,” Sirius says, his gaze shifting over to Harry who still hasn’t moved from his place at the back of the garden, “needed a break though, I can pick it up later tonight when Harry’s asleep.”
Remus hums a little, following Sirius gaze to look at the boy, “Okay, we better make a plan for dinner.”
“Sure,” he replies, fingers slipping from Remus’ hair, “I’ll just go check on him.” He makes his way down the steps and across the lawn, ruffling the boy’s hair once he’s close enough. “Alright, Haz?”
“Shh,” Harry turns around, a finger pressed over his mouth, green eyes serious. “He’s sleeping.”
“Who’s sleeping?” asks Sirius as he crouches down next to Harry, trying to see what Harry is looking at, half-hidden underneath the bush. It doesn’t take long before he sees it, a wood mouse, a tiny little thing with golden-brown fur, long tail and big ears.
“He is,” Harry whispers, pointing at the mouse and Sirius feels something uncomfortable stir in his chest. It’s definitely not sleeping, Sirius can tell immediately as its beady eyes are open and unblinking. “Hello, Mr. Mo-ouse,” Harry whispers in a sing-song voice, reaching to nudge the mouse with a finger, “wake up, please.”
“Oh, sprog,” Sirius murmurs, swallowing, “I don’t think he’s sleeping, mate.”
“But he’s not moving,” Harry says, his eyes glued to the small animal and then adds as an afterthought, “I poked him and he didn’t wake and I think he sleeps very hard, like Moony.”
Sirius can feel a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, Harry did have a point about Moony being a heavy sleeper, but this was definitely not that. “No, Haz,” he says, carefully, moving his gaze from the rodent to Harry, “it’s not sleeping, and it’s not going to wake up. I’m afraid it’s dead.”
Harry doesn’t say anything at first, brows pulling down into a frown as if he’s pondering something, “Dead?”
“Yes, love,” he says, stroking a hand over Harry’s hair as the boy turns to look at him, green eyes wide and quizzical.
“But why is he dead?”
Sirius hesitates for a moment before he replies, deciding it’s best to be honest, “I’m not sure, Haz. But he is.”
Harry doesn’t say anything for a while, shifting his gaze back to the mouse before whispering “dead” under his breath. Sirius waits, giving Harry the space to ask the questions he was pretty sure would come but then the boy sits back on his heels, turning his serious eyes back on Sirius. “I think we should tell Moony.”
“Yeah, okay,” Sirius agrees as he stands up, extending a hand to the boy who takes it as they make their way back towards the house. He’s quite glad, really, because he has a feeling this is a conversation where he’d quite like some backup. Remus looks up at them as they approaches, a small sort of smile on his face as he studies them. Harry lets go of his hand, walking a little ahead of Sirius with determined steps.
“He’s dead,” Harry says gravely, as soon as they’re within earshot, and Sirius can see the smile slide from Moony’s face, his expression going serious as his eyes flicker to Sirius for a second before returning to Harry.
“What?”
Harry doesn’t reply, just tilts his head back to look expectantly up at Sirius, his expression still serious as he gives a little nod, clearly wanting Sirius to fill in the details.
“Harry found a mouse under the blackcurrants,” he explains, and he can see understanding dawn on Moony’s face, “and it’s dead.”
“Oh,” Remus says, and Sirius recognises the flicker of uncertainty behind his eyes and Sirius feels quite at a loss too, unsure what to say next. In the end neither of them have a chance to say anything before Harry speaks up again.
“My mum and dad are dead,” he states, a slight quiver over the words as he looks from Sirius to Remus, as if expecting confirmation, “Like Mr. Mouse?”
“Oh Harry,” Sirius mumbles, feeling a sort of tightening over his chest as he gives Remus a helpless look but the other man is watching Harry intently, a sadness pulling around his mouth as he opens and his arms and Sirius watches as the boy climbs into his lap, letting Remus wrap his arms around him.
“Yes, Harry,” Remus says, quietly, brushing his lips over Harry’s head, “your mum and dad are also dead.”
Four years, Sirius thinks, a little numbly, and yet every time he thought about James and Lily the sadness and grief stabbed him sharp and sudden and real and he didn’t think that would ever go away. As Harry got older Remus had practically inhaled every book there was about how to talk to children about death and grief. They had both been resolute that Harry was to know the truth about James and Lily, even if they wanted to spare him the gruesome details until he was older. They did, however, make an effort to talk about his parents a lot, and always tried to answer any questions as honestly as they could.
“And they’re not going to wake up?” Harry asks, leaning back against Remus chest but his green eyes are focused on Sirius, and he finds himself unable to look away. He sighs, softly, as he walks up to Remus chair, sinking down to his knees in front of it so he can look Harry in the eyes.
“No, sprog. They’re not going to wake up, but your mum and dad loved you very much, you know that right?”
Harry nods, a sombre sort of expression on his face, as if he was expecting Sirius to say just that. He presses his lips together, a slight frown on his face as he looks down, playing a little absently with Remus’ fingers while clearly thinking something over.
“I think that’s very sad,” he says, after a while, a quiet statement rather than anything else and Sirius swallows hard, his eyes flickering up to meet Remus’ for a moment before he looks back at Harry.
“Yeah,” he agrees, quietly. “It is.”
“Haz,” Remus says after a while, jostling the boy lightly, “you know that we sometimes go to the cemetery and leave flowers for your mum and dad?” Harry nods, twisting a little in Remus’ arms so he can turn and look at him properly. “Maybe we can make a place like that for Mr. Mouse? Do you think that would be good idea?” Harry’s frown deepens for a moment as he thinks it over before he nods. “Okay then,” Remus continues, “how about you help Padfoot pick out a good place for it here in the garden, and I’ll be back very soon, okay?”
Remus releases Harry with a kiss to his forehead and the boy slides from his lap and turns to face Sirius again. He gives a small smile to him, hoping that it’s reassuring, as he strokes his hand through the boy’s hair. “Let’s go pick out a good spot then.” He stands, catching Moony by his wrist before he has a chance to disappear, giving him a light squeeze and Remus half-smiles at him, leaning in to brush their lips together briefly before he heads back into the house.
Sirius lets Harry lead the way through the garden, listening to the boy reason his way around, picking and discarding places. In the end they end up by the blackcurrant bushes again and Harry stops, turning to look up at Sirius. “I think here,” he declares. “I think he liked it here a lot.”
Sirius nods, exhaling softly. “I think you’re right, Haz. It’s a nice spot. Maybe over here?” he indicates the space between two of the bushes.
Harry nods just as Remus catches up with them, garden trowel in one hand and a carved wooden box in the other, asking “this it?”
“Here,” Harry points and Remus nods, kneeling down on the ground, setting down the box next to him as he starts digging a hole big enough for it to fit. Sirius watches, hovering a little bit behind, Harry leaning back against him with one arm wrapped around the back of his legs, holding on. Neither of them speak, Sirius running his fingers lightly through Harry’s unruly mop of hair as they watch Remus work.
The other man sits back slightly when he’s satisfied, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, ”box please, Haz.” Harry disentangles himself from Sirius as he kneels next to Remus on the ground, handing him the box. Sirius is looking over both of their shoulders as Remus pulls out his wand, flicking it to make the mouse levitate from its place underneath the bush to land softly in the box.
Sirius feels warmth bloom in his chest as he watches the two of them work, Remus’ quiet instructions for Harry to close the lid and place the box into the ground. The two of them fill the hole back up together, and Remus uses his wand to create a small chain of flowers that Harry arranges over the small grave. “There,” Remus says after a while, as he sits back, sliding an arm around Harry’s waist to hug him close while his other hand reaches back for Sirius hand, and he grips it gratefully. “Think this will be good, Harry?”
Harry nods, patting the earth over the grave lightly. “Bye, bye, Mr. Mouse.”
Remus and Sirius both echoes after an insistent nudge from Harry. They all stay in silence for a moment, Sirius just starting to consider how long an appropriate time of mourning is at a mouse funeral when Harry turns, tugging at Moony’s arm. “I’m hungry.”
Remus laughs, a soft sort of sound as he stands, scooping Harry up and making the boy yelp and giggle with the sudden movement. “Okay then, should we make some dinner?” Harry nods, reaching a hand out for Sirius.
“I want to ride Padfoot.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Remus pretends to think it over, “I think maybe Padfoot’s getting too old for that.”
“Oi,” Sirius protests with a laugh. “Padfoot is not old, I’ll have you know.”
Remus’ eyes widen in mock-innocence, voice a low, teasing murmur, “Oh, I’m sorry, I must be thinking of my other boyfriend, then.”
“Shu–hush,” Sirius stumbles a little over the word, changing it halfway through as he remembers Harry being there and Remus gives a smirk, cocking his head a little as Sirius rolls his eyes, “Just hand him over.”
The rest of the evening passes smoothly, Sirius half-expecting Harry to bring up the mouse again, or his parents, but he doesn’t. He’s happy all through dinner, not even making a fuss as Remus declares it’s bedtime and he goes to bed without as much as a protest. It’s not until much later, when both himself and Remus are both in bed, Sirius half-asleep, that there’s an insistent prodding at this side and a loudly whispered “Padfoot? Padfoot!”
Sirius groans, reluctantly rolling away from the snug warmth of Remus’ body to face the side of his bed where Harry is standing, his toy stag clutched tightly under one arm. “Haz,” Sirius rasps, clearing his throat. “What’s up, sprog?”
Harry shuffles a little, tugging at Sirius’ duvet. “Can I sleep with you and Moony?”
“Yeah, o’course mate,” Sirius yawns as he shifts enough so he can lift Harry up, settling him between himself and Remus, feeling the boys snuggle close to him, one hand groping blindly behind him until he finds Moony, making sure he’s touching both of them before Sirius feels him settle. He smiles fondly, his own eyes sliding shut again and he’s just about to drift off when there’s a shuffle, and then Harry’s whispered voice in his ear again.
“Padfoot?”
“Hm?” He hums, not opening his eyes, sleep still tugging at him and he really hopes it’s not going to be one of those nights when Harry refuses to sleep.
“D’you think,” Harry whispers, his breath ghosting hot and wet against Sirius ear, “that if Mr. Mouse has a baby, he will have a Moony and Padfoot to take care of him too?”
Sirius feels something stir in his chest, his eyes blinking open as he rolls over onto his side so that he can look at Harry, green eyes glinting seriously at him over the small distance between them. He doesn’t know what to say at first, swallowing around the lump in his throat and quickly blinking away the slight burn behind his eyes. “I hope so,” he manages, after a while.
“Yeah,” Harry nods, apparently happy with that answer and he closes his eyes before burrowing closer. “I think he does.”
Sirius wraps his arms around him, throat tight but he swallows around it, exhaling softly before he brushes his lips against the top of the boy’s head, mumbling, “Yeah, me too, Haz. Let's try and get some sleep, okay?”
Harry mumbles something unintelligibly under his breath but it doesn't take long before his breathing evens out, the boy fast asleep, but Sirius lies awake, listening to his partner and son snore softly.