Dwelling on Dreams (A Marauders Fan Fic)

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place (Present Part Four)

His bitterness at his imprisonment was exacerbated by his boredom; he had nothing to do and rarely saw anyone; at least in Azkaban he had not had the outside world so close, tempting him and calling him every morning. Sirius couldn’t wait to escape from the house; he would rather have been still on the run than trapped there.

As he passed the sitting room the old tumbler of Firewhiskey caught his eye; going to the dresser he poured himself a glass and savoured the burning warmth it created at the back of his throat. “Just one more,” he murmured as he poured another glass, until eventually the boredom and pain had been numbed to a dull ache. Sirius looked up and saw Kreacher lurking in the corner of the room. “Oh what would my mistress say?” he said to himself. “My poor mistress would turn in her grave. Why can’t he be Master Regulus-”

“Away with you Kreacher! Go on! Go away! I don’t care what ‘your mistress’ would have said,” Sirius shouted violently as Kreacher hobbled away. Exhausted by Kreacher’s mutterings Sirius poured himself another glass. “Just one more won’t hurt,” he mumbled before collapsing on the sofa.

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Sirius woke up the next day with a headache and a buzzing in his ears. As he lay on the sofa trying to distinguish whether the buzzing was from the Firewhiskey or something else he saw a Doxy flying around the curtains. Suddenly his thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the door and Sirius stumbled through the corridor to open it, a wide smile plastered across his face. “People!” he beamed as he threw it open, revealing a crowd of red heads.

“Come on children! Stop doing that Fred!” Molly shouted as she ushered everyone inside. “Hurry up Ginny!”

“I’m not doing anything! That’s George!” Fred replied.

“Stop doing that George!” she cried, flustered as George glared at Fred.

“Only joking,” whispered one of the twins to Sirius as they passed him. “It is Fred but she’ll never know! And she calls herself our mother!”

Behind the enormous family was Dumbledore, his eyes as blue as ever and as he crossed the threshold he pinned Sirius with a stern look.

“I hate it here,” Sirius muttered to him resentfully, the Weasleys drawing ahead of them as they raced throughout the house. “Everything here reminds me of something I don’t want to remember.”

Dumbledore frowned and looked as if he was about to say something before changing his mind. “You’re here for your own safety Sirius. I feel like you could use some of the advice I once gave to Harry.”

“Yes?” Sirius asked curiously.

“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live Sirius. Remember that while you’re here, would you?”

Sirius frowned at Dumbledore’s retreating back before following him through the hall. He knew the man was referring to Cassie, James and Lily and he wanted to move on, he wanted it to stop hurting, but deep inside he knew he was afraid he would forget them, that he would forget exactly how much he loved them all.

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“We need to tell him,” Sirius said to the other Order members. “He has a right to know.”

“He’s too young!” argued Molly.

“He’s done more than half the people in the Order have Molly! Not to mention that the prophecy is about him! He needs to be prepared!”

“Prepared for what Sirius? Who do you think he is, another Order member? He’s still a child!”

“He’s fifteen Molly!”

“Exactly!” she cried, slamming her hands down on the table for emphasis. “He’s fifteen!”

“He’s tackled more than most adults!” Sirius shouted back.

“Just who do you think he is Sirius? Because he most certainly is not James!”

“I never said I thought he was James!” Sirius yelled. “I know bloody well who my godson is, and he’s the type of person who would not want to be kept in the dark about what’s going on! I can’t believe Dumbledore’s forbidden us from contacting him!”

“It’s for his own good!” Mrs Weasley replied.

“How do you think you’d feel if you went a month without hearing anything from your friends or from the only family you have left Molly? I bet he’s frustrated that the questions he’s asking Ron and Hermione aren’t being answered and I don’t see why we can’t just tell him! He deserves to know!”

“Could we maybe finish this another day?” Lupin interjected tiredly before either of them caused the other physical harm.

“Yes, some of us have actual jobs to do,” said Snape snidely, “not to mention things for the Order,” he continued as Sirius glared at him.

“Fine. Meeting adjourned. Now get out Snivellus,” he spat, a look of intense hatred flickering across Snape’s face as he stalked out of the room.

“That wasn’t clever Padfoot,” muttered Lupin as Sirius poured himself another Firewhiskey when they were the last two left in the kitchen.

“I know,” he said, smiling ruefully, “but it made me feel better.”

“Snape’s on our side now. Remember that.”

“I still don’t like it,” Sirius said with a grimace as he downed his drink. “Or him, for that matter,” he scowled as Lupin laughed.

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An ear wrenching screech tore through the air and Sirius cursed under his breath, the cries of his mother’s portrait resounding through the house.

“Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, be gone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers-”

“Shut up you horrible old hag, SHUT UP!” he shouted as he grabbed one of the curtains.

“You!” she shrieked. “Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!”

“I said shut UP!” he yelled as he and Lupin wrestled with the curtain.

Sirius’ heart soared as he swept his hair out of his eyes and caught sight of Harry standing in the corridor. He looked so much older than the last time he had seen him and with every passing day he resembled James more and more. It was bittersweet, reminding him of so many happy memories and yet piercing him with such unendurable sadness, a pain which still hadn’t properly died. He was almost identical to James, only his large green eyes, eyes which had lit up at the sight of Sirius, reminding his godfather that he was a different person; for a moment Sirius had half expected to look in a mirror and see himself as a fifteen year old again. “Hello Harry, I see you’ve met my mother,” he said grimly, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

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