Sirius's Son Harry Black

13

Harry Black

Troubled Holidays

On the train home for Christmas break, Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to get a compartment to themselves. Hermione was reading Hogwarts, A History, while Harry and Ron played wizard chess. Harry was losing so horribly that he had to suspect that his dad let him win all the times they had played wizard chess.

"That's totally barbaric!" Hermione said, as she watched Ron's black queen demolish Harry's white bishop.

"No it's not," Ron insisted. "Cutting people open to mess with their insides, that's barbaric," he said, referring to what Hermione had told them about Muggle 'doctors' and 'surgery'.

Harry nodded. "I think my dad would go crazy if someone tried to tell him slicing him open and jabbing his innards with pointy things was the only way they knew how to save his life."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Muggles don't have magic. If they need to fix something beneath the skin, they have to move the skin to get to it."

"And what about putting someone else's blood in your body? That's just creepy!"

"Not if it keeps you alive, Ron."

"Whatever. So, Harry, did you ask your dad about me coming over yet?"

"Not yet, but he won't mind. You're sure you can't come over, Hermione?"

"No, my parents are taking me to France, and we aren't getting back until the day before the Hogwarts Express leaves."

"How much longer until we get there? I'm starving," Ron said.

"You ate an hour ago," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, but not much."

"You finished off everything we got from the trolley."

"There wasn't much left, and Harry had some too."

Thankfully, the train stopped before Ron and Hermione's 'discussion' could turn into another fight.

Sirius smiled when he saw Harry come through the barrier of Platform 9¾ with his two friends. The two young wizards hugged Hermione, and headed straight for Sirius. Harry's face was already flushed from the cold, and snowflakes stuck in his hair and melted on his glasses. Sirius had to grab Harry's trolley when the wheel skidded on ice, almost causing an irritated owl and a heavy trunk to crash into the Muggles Sirius stood near. The Muggles walked away, glaring and Sirius and Harry, muttering about hooligans and parents who couldn't control their children.

"Not very in touch with the Christmas spirit, are they?" Sirius mused, extending his free arm to his grinning son.

After a quick hug, Harry said, "Dad, this is my friend Ron. Can he stay with us for a couple days?"

"Sure, if his parents are okay with it."

"Ron!"

"Oh, hi, Mum," Ron said, to a plump witch with the same flaming, red hair as her son. Mrs. Weasley was dragging a young girl by the hand towards Ron.

"Mrs. Weasley, I presume?" Sirius said, in his most charming voice, and offered his hand to Mrs. Weasley. "I'm Sirius Black, Harry's father."

"Oh." She shook his hand quickly, then grabbed her son. "Come, Ron, your father's waiting." As she dragged her children away, Sirius thought he heard something about 'pure-blood maniacs'.

"Well, ready to go home, pup?"

Harry nodded. Sirius made sure no Muggles were in sight and shrunk Harry's trunk, then took Harry and Hedwig, in her cage, to a dark area of King's Cross Station. When Harry had a tight hold on his arm, Sirius disapparated.