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“Do you remember when we burnt that bloody thing right off?”
Sirius pointed idly at the ghastly miniature portrait of his mother and father which clung to the peeling wallpaper of the lounge. Harry gurgled in his arms, clutching giddily with chubby fingers at Sirius’s whilst Remus sighed fondly and nodded absently.
“I also remember trying to stick them back on again so that your brother wouldn’t tell your mother, and you trying to attach them back with-,” Harry laughed again, and Sirius nudged his nose playfully to let out another chorus of squeals and giggles which drowned out the last of Remus’s sentence. Sirius hadn’t needed to hear it anyway, he remembered clearly enough the pure fear he’d felt when his numerous attempts at sticking charms and sticky tape had failed to reattach the paintings. It still made him laugh to remember the way the tiny portraits had cursed and muttered at him whenever he got too close since.
When the war had begun, the desolate house had been completely deserted. Most of family Black had moved to be closer to the movement, and some like Andromeda had simply decided the associated memories with the decaying house were too much, but something still drew Sirius back. It wasn’t that he didn’t utterly detest the building; he’d raise it to ashes if he thought it would make him feel any better, and almost had more than once. Perhaps it was simply the practicality of it, for Remus’s sake. If questioned, it certainly was. But sometimes, only alone, the memories would swirl and twist like autumn leaves in an evening breeze, and the good would float alongside the painful.
Once, James had nearly eaten one of the shrunken heads on the stairs by accident after Peter removed one and put it in pastry. Another time, Remus had fainted after opening cutlery draq to a stray boggart in the kitchen and as a consequence had charmed all the cutlery to set the table itself until one of the forks nearly imbedded itself into James's owl. Lily accidentally hexed James with a particularly strong pimple curse once which had lasted an incredible 3 weeks before they had finally burst. It was also the first place Remus had kissed him, under the blanket in his bedroom at midnight, terrified his mother would burst in at a moment.
Harry squealed again for attention and Sirius shifted him slightly on his lap so he could rock him gently, cooing slightly in a manner he hoped no one but Remus would ever hear. Lily might have found it adorable, but James would have written it on his 80th birthday card lest he ever forget it. The toddler yawned, stretching up with little fists and giggling when Remus did the same with an exaggerated roar of a yawn.
“Someone is getting a bit tired- ready for bed little one?” Remus smiled as Harry scrunched his nose in disapproval, and yet fought a yawn at the same time. They didn't get to visit as much as any of them would have liked, and little Harry treasured the time spent with his uncles even when he was too young to fully appreciate it. Or even remember it later.
“I thought we agreed on calling it Padawan?”
“It? God Pads, I knew seeing that film with you would be a bad idea. Come on, look, little Prongs is nearly dead on his feet. A nap would do him good I expect,” It was true, Harry’s eyes were flickering shut and the time before he opened them again was getting progressively longer. Sirius knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be snoring in his arms, and yet he still wanted to hold him a little longer. It had been a long time since he’d held his godson in his arms, working for the Order had become increasingly dangerous and the risks were quickly stacking up. No one said it, but they often wondered if the next goodbye would be the last.
With Harry still so young, Lily and James had understandable stepped back a little, and whilst Sirius was more than happy to cover for them, he missed the happy gurgle of his second favourite human in the world, and had missed falling asleep in his first favourite’s arms at night. Remus seemed to understand this too, as he said nothing more, instead nuzzling his head further into the crook between Sirius’s head and neck, smiling softly as Harry lost his battle against the sandman and fell deep asleep.
The head on his shoulder became increasingly heavier, and the breath against his neck grew slowly steadier as Remus too drifted off to sleep, the candle light dimming as it burnt itself down. Next to the sofa the two mugs of tea had grown cold in the October chill which had invaded the old house and the blanket Sirius has managed to dig up from his bedroom barely covered the three of them comfortably, but it didn’t matter. Nor did it matter that the jumper Sirius had stolen from Remus was the itchy sort of wool and had been irritating him since he had put it on- but he couldn’t take it off on the account it belonged to him, smelt of him and had the wonderful bonus of making Remus’s eyes widen slightly every time he saw him in it.
In the morning Lily and James would return to pick their son up and take him home for a long weekend, whilst Remus and Sirius had yet more Order work to attend to. The Halloween weekend meant a lot to Lily, she’d expressed her need for Harry to have the same wonderful childhood experiences she had for Halloween many times, and for Harry’s very first she’d wanted them all round for some dinner and trick or treating. Unfortunately they’d had to cancel until the Wednesday after, and Sirius already missed his godson knowing he would not see him for so long.
Remus muttered something into the wool of his jumper, and shuffled until his legs were propped up on the end of the sofa and his head was tucked snugly next to Sirius’s own.
12 Grimmauld Place didn’t always contain the best memories, and the scorch mark on the far wall still looked far too fresh for comfort- but it was those moments with his true family which gave him his attachment. The memories of friends, lovers and family, of late nights with the two most dear things in his life beside him, which meant he couldn’t turn the place away or leave it to smoke and dust and was unlikely to ever be able to.
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When Dumbledore had asked if the Order could use it for a meeting place, Sirius found he couldn’t refuse. The house had always hurt too much for it to be occupied with him alone, but it still meant too much to leave. And when the two most dear to his heart occupied the same room again, he could close his eyes and pretend he was in that moment again, that they had eventually had that Halloween dinner Lily had so desperately wanted. That they had dropped Harry off to their best friends that morning, and had seen them the following Wednesday in order to go late trick or treating. Could still imagine sitting around the table, laughing and joking with friends he never would have second guessed, could see Harry gurgling and spilling Halloween cake all over his new bib giggling all the while. The image was so different to the Harry in front of him, eating Christmas dinner and sharing a cracker joke with Remus that had them both smiling.
He never forgot burning off his mother’s darling portraits, and he never stopped trying to stick them back on.