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Natural Magic 12

SCENE 12

Narcissa was very dainty, sweet tempered and extremely relieved when Draco was brought home, held in Lucius’s steady arms. Harry was asked to stay in their large parlor, a funny looking short creature with large eyes and long nose bringing him biscuits to eat and pointing him to a couch by the fireplace with a plush blanket to curl up in. Draco was taken away, still fast asleep while his parents went to discuss what had happened without Harry hearing.

Harry was tired but afraid to sleep. He dozed, head dipping repeatedly as he tried to not fall asleep and let his guard down. Even though Draco’s father, Lucius, had invited him to stay and had promised Narcissa would be more than agreeable, Harry could not fully believe it. Surely someone—The Dursleys that hated him or the police or someone would interfere and make sure he could not be happy.

While Harry dozed he dreamed of the cupboard. Vernon waiting on the other side to unlock the door and let him out. Except he never did, just giggling a high pitched giggle that sounded too much like the sandy haired man.

He awoke with a cry, falling off the couch and tangling in the blanket. Voices he had not fully been aware of stopped and Harry looked up blearily to find Lucius and Narcissa staring down at him from across the room in a love seat.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Narcissa asked, the two of them getting up. Confused, Harry closed his eyes as Narcissa placed a soothing palm to his cheek. “Did you hit your head?”

Harry shook his head, blinking up at the pretty woman and then catching Lucius’s ever searing gaze. “I have nightmares sometimes, that’s all.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay. We all have nightmares and then we wake up and everything is better.” Harry focused again on Narcissa, not used to anyone comforting him before. He tilted his head, not sure what he was supposed to say.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Malfoy. I’m not afraid, not even when it hurts. You don’t need to worry about me.” He pushed the blankets off and got up to his feet. “Were you able to fix Draco yet?”

Narcissa gave him a disquieted look. “Draco’s condition is complicated, Harry. It might not be fixable.”

“That’s—No. That’s not right.” Harry whispered, freezing and swaying in place.

Lucius reached forward and held Harry steady by the shoulder. “We’re going to do what we can. Most children caught by those two particular men don’t live very long. My colleagues tell me the spell is permanent but, considering the situation, it has hardly been tested long term.”

“Harry, we are very grateful you brought Draco home alive,” Narcissa said earnestly, tears in her eyes. “No matter what happens, you saved him from a very terrible life. And we will never forget it.”

Harry nodded but he felt very empty inside. Draco might be messed up forever. What if the two men hadn’t realized he was Harry Potter? Would they have left Draco alone? Would Draco have even been there if he hadn’t met him in the park?

“I want you to live with us, Harry,” Narcissa continued, kneeling down to the boy’s level. “We want to give you a home where you can grow your power safely. And so I can thank you every day for bringing Draco home. Would you like that?”

“I… uh… I would… I just…” Harry bowed his head, pulling at his hair anxiously. “I should have just brought him to the police. He was scared and said they might hurt him—But I should have. Now he’s—he’s messed up.” He tried to step back but Narcissa pulled him close, hugging him tight. Harry stiffened in the hold, waiting to be hurt, waiting to be yelled at, but it didn’t come.

“Harry, you didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. If you brought Draco to the police, a different type of bad man would have caught him instead. Powerful people have enemies and we are very powerful. We told Draco not to go to the police just because of that.”

Harry just nodded, swaying in the warm hold. Narcissa smelled like flowers, her hair tickling at his nose. He wondered if his mom would have smelled the same. Narcissa pulled back, smiling weakly and combing his hair with her fingers.

“Harry, we need the name of your relatives. Do you know your address? We want to explain to them that you are well and that we are going to be taking care of you. That way you can get all your favorite things from your house and visit whenever you’d like.”

Harry bit his lip, shrugging uncomfortably. “If you want… but I don’t want to visit. And there isn’t anything there that’s mine…”

“Nonsense. I’m sure you’ll want to take your toys, maybe some books to read. Your clothes. It’s good to have familiar things with you.” Narcissa stood, holding her hand out to Harry, who took it hesitantly. “Let’s start with your address.”

Harry studied the floor and then his shoe, a large hole revealing his dirty sock. “4 Privet Drive… in Little Whinging… Surrey…” He sighed, glancing up briefly. “Don’t tell them that you’re, uh, magical, okay? They don’t like… well…” He trailed off.

Lucius shifted, drawing Harry’s gaze, the man very much a panther full of power and danger. “There is nothing you want from the house? Nothing at all?”

Harry thought for a moment. “It’s not mine, not really. But they have some pictures of my parents… and I would really like those.”

Lucius nodded, padding out the door silently. Narcissa gripped Harry’s hand tighter, smiling down at him. “Shall we go to bed, then? I can give you a set of Draco’s pajamas for tonight and then we can get you your own clothes tomorrow.”

“Oh… you don’t have to do that, Mrs. Malfoy.” Harry said quickly, blushing. “I’m sure my own clothes are fine, and I don’t want to—”

“Harry, you are a very silly young man. It is hardly a bother to dress you. Look around you. Clothing you is not only easy to do, but will actually be fun. I can take you out and we can choose things you’ll like.”

“Well… if you want,” Harry mumbled, meeting the woman’s eye hesitantly. He did not want to wear out his welcome so shortly having gotten there.

“I do. Now come along and I’ll show you the room we’re going to fix up for you.” Harry let Narcissa lead him up the long flight of stairs that led to the bedrooms on the second floor. They stopped before the first door on the right, Narcissa holding her hand out. “This is mine and Lucius’s set of rooms. If you ever need anything, just come by and knock. Don’t be afraid to be loud—Draco comes by at night when he gets scared.”

“I, uh, really don’t get scared,” Harry said quietly.

“Even if you’re not scared,” Narcissa amended. “Even if you just want to talk.” She pulled him down the hall, stopping at the next door on the left. “This is were Draco sleeps and plays. Until we get your room ready, you can stay with him. But then,” and she tugged his hand gently, Harry following beside her. “You will sleep in here.”

They had stopped beside another door, the rooms behind completely unknown to Harry as had been the others they had stopped at. Harry looked up at Narcissa, curious. “Do I get a bed?”

“Naturally. Where would you sleep otherwise?”

Harry shrugged. “I sleep on the floor mostly. It’s not too bad. I think a bed might be too soft… Would you mind if I sleep on the floor?”

Narcissa was kneeling again and Harry took a step back, not certain what he had said wrong. “You can sleep wherever you like. But you will certainly have a bed because you deserve a bed. Harry, does your family not have a lot of money?”

Harry blinked, shaking his head. “Uncle Vernon is always talking about his promotions. They’re really proud that they have so much money.”

“But your clothes… Did you get these from the, uh, apartment where Lucius found you?” Narcissa asked carefully, pulling at Harry’s torn sleeve.

Harry sighed. “They don’t like me, that’s all. I get to wear Dudley’s hand-me-downs, and sometimes his old toys, but he usually breaks all of them. There’s something wrong with me and they can sense it…” Harry pulled away, not wanting to make a big deal about it.

“There is nothing wrong with you, Harry. You are very special, just like the rest of us. You shouldn’t feel bad about that. Your relatives are just ignorant, and that’s not your fault.” Narcissa held both her hands out and Harry reluctantly stepped forward and let her hold his hands.

“You’re not scared of me?” Harry asked, eyes downcast. “For what I did?”

“No. You did what you had to do—What a lot of people aren’t even capable of. You are a very special, very lucky boy, and I am not afraid of you,” Narcissa said evenly.

Harry nodded slowly, a small smile starting to form. “Does that mean Draco’s like me, then? Because he can do magic, too?”

Narcissa stilled, holding Harry’s hands a little tighter. “Not exactly. You’re very special, Harry. Draco has power, like most children his age. But he can’t do what you do. That’s why he couldn’t defend himself.”

“Oh.” Harry looked away. “So I’m different from everyone.”

“Yes, but that’s okay. You have a special power. Not even full grown wizards learn the power you have. What you have is something that comes naturally and it makes you important. You are a very special boy. And you should be treated like one.” Narcissa smiled broadly until Harry finally smiled back. “Come on, now. We’ll get you in some pajamas and tuck you in with Draco for now… unless you’d rather sleep on the floor.”

Harry knew she was teasing, but he really might end up sleeping on the floor.

Draco’s room was huge, maybe capable of fitting all of the Dursleys’ house. He had a bathroom off the side and Harry slipped into the blue silk pajama bottoms and top that Narcissa had charmed larger to fit. She was sitting over Draco while he slept, brushing his hair from his forehead.

Harry stepped up beside her, resting his hands on the large bed. Narcissa sighed, turning to Harry and pulling the blankets down. She patted the space. “You must be tired. It’s late and you’ve had a very difficult day.”

Harry crawled up the bed, slipping between the sheets. They smelled nice and felt cool and smooth against his skin. Narcissa remained, humming softly while continuing to comb Draco’s hair. She looked a cross between content and anguished and Harry felt sad for her. Turning towards Draco’s sleeping form, Harry let his eyes close, Narcissa’s humming slowly sending him to sleep.

Sating The Dementor’s Kiss 13

SCENE 13

Remus did not want to wait for Sirius to wake up, very much vibrating with both anxiety and anger. Harry was trying to soothe the man, but the reality was he was still just as angry. Draco had left hours ago. Remus, after finally getting Harry’s message, had apparated down at eleven in the evening, desperate to make sure Sirius wasn’t dying.

“We brought him here to avoid this sort of thing!” Remus hissed. “What happens when the papers get a hold of it? Him being released and living with ‘The Dark Lord’s Successor’—They won’t care that he’s innocent and wrongly convicted. Those fucking people are going to hound him for the rest of his days because they don’t want to believe the Ministry makes mistakes!”

“Remi, you’re jumping to conclusions. Bardly was one of the aurors that brought Sirius in. He had a personal vendetta that ignored the reality of the situation. No one else is going to be so blinded by hate,” Harry said calmly, not sure he truly believed his own words. The public had proven time and again that they didn’t care about the truth, they just loved a fucking scandal.

“We need to get ahead of this Harry. Before they’re at your door, looking to lynch him.”

Harry grabbed the man’s arm, pushing him back down in the kitchen chair. “Calm down. I’ll talk to Emilee, and her people can start on the PR. But Black’s not ready for this.”

“He’s going to have to be,” Remus muttered. “Someone stabbed him, Harry. A law abiding auror was in the courtroom, heard Sirius was innocent, and still stabbed him. You know what those reporters will say. Black tricked his way out of it. Harry Potter cursed the judge, made a false memory that everyone experienced—These people are ruthless. And if one person was crazy enough to try to kill him, there will be more. People died in that explosion—Innocent, well-loved people with very angry families. They are going to want vengeance and it doesn’t matter on who, just as long as they have their day.”

Harry sighed heavily, knowing Remus was right and hating it. He had gotten used to the threats on his own life. Usually just by crazy, obsessed kooks that thought they were saving the world from the next Voldemort. The people that would come after Sirius would be more than crazy, they would think they were right. Righteous people didn’t stop and were somehow even harder to rationalize with.

“I need to see him. He needs to understand the situation—He can’t go outside. If someone recognizes him—”

“Remi, you really need to calm down. You’ll only upset him like this,” Harry said as soothingly as possible. Remus naturally ignored him, ducking around the boy and heading for the living room. Sirius had fallen asleep on the couch, not interested in returning to his room anytime soon. Harry hadn’t minded, throwing a blanket over the man after returning with the toiletries and clothes. “Remi…” Harry trailed off, Sirius peeking his eye open from the couch, peering warily at the werewolf.

“Pads, I need to talk to you,” Remus said, crouching in front of the couch. “I need you to be really careful.”

Sirius stared at the man a while, then turned his gaze to Harry, eyes full of question. Harry bit his lip. “Remus just wants to know you’re okay. He’s really upset that you were hurt.”

“I want to talk to him alone, Harry,” Remus said, his voice hard. “Can you give us some space?”

Scratching the back of his head, Harry nodded. Sirius was looking at him, eyes so full of something he could not identify but begged for him to stay. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Right across the hall. If you need anything, just ask and I’ll be here.” He said it to Sirius, the man still looking very lost. Then he slipped away to sit in the kitchen and wait.

“Padfoot… Come on, Pads. I need you to focus on me,” Remus pleaded, pulling the man’s gaze back to him. “Do you remember me yet?”

Sirius did not like how the man was nearly eye level with him, feeling very vulnerable lying on the couch. He slowly sat up, wrapping the blanket that was on him closer to his body. “You’re Remus… but you’re old.”

Remus snorted without humor. “Nearly forty is not old—Have you looked in the damn mirror?”

Sirius gazed down at his hands. “I try not to. I don’t recognize myself,” he said gruffly.

“Siri, I spoke with your lawyer, Mr. Colms. He said that when he first met you, it was as Padfoot.” Remus sat back on the floor, looking up at the man. “Is that how you did it? Is that why you’re so healthy? Did you spend all your time as the dog?”

Eyes straying towards Remus, Sirius nodded. “It was easier. Less memories to hear… they hardly noticed me.”

Remus seemed almost relieved. “Good, that’s good, Siri. Can you still turn into Padfoot?” He sighed when Sirius nodded in reply. “Sirius, whenever you go outside, you need to do it as Padfoot. You should keep the curtains drawn so no one can see you in the house. Don’t let anyone in that Harry doesn’t know.”

Sirius leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Am I… not supposed to be here?”

“No, no, you are exactly where you are supposed to be,” Remus assured. “Harry will fight anyone that tries to take you away—You belong here, Siri. But there are ignorant individuals that think you hurt those people instead of Peter. For your own protection, you need to stay hidden. Just keep the curtains closed and go outside as Padfoot. That’s all you have to do.”

“Alright… Moony,” Sirius said, hesitating on the nickname. But Remus smiled to hear it, as if it were truly familiar to him.

“Pads, you believe me?” Remus asked softly, gnawing at his lip. Sirius could see the boy in the man’s face, very much still Remus’s honey eyes and hair with familiar expressions even if his body had grown much stronger.

“Do you remember that time in the shack… when Jamie tried to wake you up with that mask on?” Sirius asked, watching Remus’s face carefully.

“The gorilla one? After the full moon and I was so tired from the change and the stupid ass thought it would be funny to pretend it was the damn planet of the apes? Yeah, I remember,” Remus said with a small smile.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, pausing to stare at his fingers. “I keep waiting for someone to pull the masks off. Off my face, off yours—Off that weird kid that makes me think of James even though I know damn well he’s his son. My god—The boy lived, Remi. How did he live?”

“No one is really sure,” Remus said honestly, relaxing the more comfortable and familiar Sirius became with him. “Dumbledore thinks Lily might have saved him. She was such a natural witch. We think her love for her son protected Harry against the killing curse. Siri… you’re going to be okay here. He’s a good kid.”

Sirius nodded, eyes straying to the door. “Why is he… He’s all alone here. He lives in the huge place all alone. What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing… not really,” Remus said, wrapping his arms around his knees. “He was hunted most of his childhood. You-Know-Who and his followers tried to get the kid killed. Then there was an incident when he was about sixteen and Harry ended up face to face with what was left of the Dark Lord. Harry killed him and everything changed.”

Sirius started at that, eyes widening, mouth going slack. “That can’t—Sixteen?” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Voldemort was weak. He never recovered from his failed attack on Harry as a toddler. And Harry… He’s an extremely powerful wizard. He doesn’t do a lot of magic; I think he’s a bit afraid of himself. But he is one of the most powerful people that exists. And because of it, he is treated very poorly by the wizarding community. He’s feared—”

“But you just said he destroyed that monster,” Sirius rasped, glancing at the door and then sliding down to the carpet so he could whisper easily to Remus. “If he killed You-Know-Who, why aren’t they dancing in the goddamn streets?”

A wave of nostalgia hit Remus, having Sirius hunched over while the two of them whispered. It was so much like sitting in the shack trying not to wake Peter and James early mornings, talking about random school things and life. Remus scooted over to Sirius’s side, head ducked, shoulder brushing shoulder. “You know how those sorts of people get, Pads. They called the kid a monster for being able to do it in the first place. They’re afraid of him. And Harry, sweet kid that he is, sometimes thinks they should be afraid. So he’s hid himself away.”

“That’s crazy, Moony. Fucking messed up—Remember when Prongs went and scared Pete…” he stopped, hunching in on himself.

“Was it after the Yule ball?” Remus asked quietly. “When Peter got so scared he said he’d get even? And we all laughed.”

Sirius nodded, leaning towards the man until Remus was holding him up with his shoulder. “I fucked up so bad, Moony. I taunted that kid every fucking chance I got… How many times did I nearly eat Wormtail when I was Padfoot? Just to fucking scare him… Maybe he wouldn’t have done it, if I hadn’t been such a terrible friend.”

Remus sighed, having spent the last days wondering why Peter had betrayed them. “It was a long time ago, Pads. No one’s heard from him in ages. Sometimes you need to let things go, just so you can have a chance at a future. What happened with you and Pete is just one of them.”

Sirius nodded, relaxing into the oddly familiar scent of Remus Lupin. “You smell like chocolate.”

Smirking, Remus snaked a hand into his back pocket, pulling out a chocolate bar. “You still have Padfoot’s nose, I see.” He unwrapped the bar, breaking off a piece and giving it to the man.

Sirius closed his eyes and let the candy melt on his tongue, humming softly. “Holy hell… I forgot how good that was. I forgot how good things taste.” Warmth began to flood him, his limbs suddenly stronger, mind clearing a lot of the cold haze away.

“Side effect of the dementors. Usually takes a week for long term exposure to completely wear off. Same with your confusion.” Remus handed the man another piece of chocolate, taking in Sirius’s expression and mussed hair. “You seem better than the last time I was here.”

“Moony… you ever hear of bondage?”

Coughing on his piece of chocolate, Remus turned wide eyes to his whispering friend. “What?”

“Bondage.” Sirius pointed to the tv console, reaching his foot out and catching the corner of a dvd. Remus slipped his hand forward and snagged the box, coughing again once seeing the cover.

“I forgot Harry was…”

“Weird,” Sirius supplied. He glanced sideways at his friend, Remus having finished reading the back of the box. He wagged his eyebrows suggestively, the werewolf bursting out in laughter in response.

“No, gay,” Remus whispered after he had gotten his laughter under control. “He’s not weird. He’s just a little… kinky.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s weird,” Sirius said, eyes straying to beneath the console. “Do you think he lets men tie him up?”

Remus pursed his lips, tossing the dvd back in its pile beneath the tv. “Maybe. I don’t think the boy really gets out much, to be honest.”

Sirius hunched closer, tilting until he was right in Remus’s ear. “Think he’d let me tie him up?”

Remus gaped, scandalized. “Pads!” He turned, trying to read if he was joking. No, Sirius had that damn wicked smirk and naughty glint to his eye that very much said he was not joking. After all these years, it was still the same fucking expression. “No!”

“No to the question, or just you’d really prefer I didn’t?” Sirius asked, laughing when Remus shoved him sideways.

“I… I don’t know… but I’m sticking with that answer,” Remus said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You do realize he’s, well, young, right? James’s son, young. Lily’s son, young.”

Sirius shrugged. “He doesn’t look like the tot, that’s for damn sure. What he does look like is very nice… especially after working out.” Sirius’s grin grew, and he ducked his head again to whisper into Remus’s side. “Did I ever tell you about Hurley?”

“The Ravenclaw that sucked you off in the bathroom? Yes, a million fucking times,” Remus said lightly while trying to fight a smirk of his own.

“Right… So I think the weird kid has a mouth even nicer looking than Hurley’s. And he had a very fine mouth.”

“Sirius Black, you are incorrigible,” Remus chuckled while shaking his head. “Don’t you dare say any of this to Harry. He’s a good kid—Nothing like you at that age, for damn sure.”

“Ah, I’m not going to say anything,” Sirius said, bumping his shoulder to Remus’s. “I’m an old man now—”

“Forty is not old!” Remus growled, bumping his shoulder right back.

“Is too. It’s fucking ancient. I’m going to have to go coffin shopping soon.”

“You’re a bastard, Black. A thirty-nine year old, not ancient bastard.”

Sating The Dementor’s Kiss 11

SCENE 11

“What? No, he’s fine… I don’t know. Video games, mostly…” Harry pulled the receiver away from his ear while trying to slip his sneaker on properly. “Stop yelling at me. Video games are a perfectly good way to pass time at any age—Shit, Draco, I have to get the door… No, for pizza.” Harry sighed, again pulling the phone away from his ear to dull the squawking of his friend. “I understand that you don’t think muggle junkfood is a good idea. And as you are well aware, I don’t care what you think. I’ll talk to you later. Yup, yup, up yours too, mate.” Harry hung up with a sigh, pushing his foot down until his sneaker finally crammed home.

He left the kitchen, finding Sirius waiting in the living room doorway, staring at the front door down the hall. “You can get the door if you want, Sirius. You’re not hiding here, and no one is trying to come after you.” Sirius didn’t say anything, just looking at him oddly and then at the door again. Harry sighed, walking to the door, feeling the man following slowly behind him.

Harry opened the door, smiling welcomingly. “Hey man, thanks for driving out here. I know its a ways off.” Harry lived in the middle of nowhere like most wizards and witches but that hadn’t stopped him from making sure he got muggle food delivered.

“Never a problem. You’re the best tipper I got.” Jamal smiled brightly, unwrapping the padded cover that held the first of Harry’s pizza boxes. “You throwing a party or something?”

“Nope, just wanted to try it all. Here, let me help you carry it from the car.” Harry stepped out, the late afternoon sun throwing long shadows over his hedges and expansive lawn. He had a landscaping company come by every other week to keep things tidy. He might be a slob, but he didn’t want his parents’ house to look like shit. Glancing into the backseat of the little delivery car, Harry wondered briefly if he had gone overboard, then brushed the thought away.

Mr. Black hadn’t had pizza in forever, and when he had asked Harry what kind of toppings they had, the man unable to remember, Harry decided to just get them all. It was his favorite pizza place with fresh ingredients and unique combinations. He had ordered all twenty-five different specialty pizzas they offered and figured whatever they didn’t eat they could eat tomorrow or the day after. Harry loved day old, cold pizza just as much as still warm, gooey pizza.

Hands full, Harry led Jamal into the hallway, Sirius edging away from the stranger and glaring suspiciously at him. Harry just raised an eyebrow at him, tilting his head for the man to follow. Jamal was his regular delivery guy, the only one willing to put his car through the extra millage to get to his house. He was a very friendly sort, full of quick smiles and stoner jokes and Harry did not want his new house guest upsetting him.

“Alright, I do believe that’s all of it, Harry. Twenty-five pizzas, two liters of soda; orange and root beer, and one order of garlic sticks and one of cinnamon sticks… with extra dipping sauce.” Jamal checked through the list while counting off boxes. He then handed Harry the bill, Harry exchanging with cash. “Shit, man, you’re going to be putting me through a doctorate if you’re not careful,” he said cheerfully, tucking the money away.

Harry just smiled, having heard that particular one before. “Hungry, Jamal? There’s no way we’re going to eat all of this.”

Jamal tilted his head back and forth, weighing propriety verse the long, hungry drive back. “I could steal a slice of the bourbon chicken,” he said eventually, taking a seat at the kitchen table when Harry offered it.

“Sirius, come on, stop hovering in the doorway,” Harry chided, holding a box of pizza out towards the man. “Where do you want to start? Roasted veggies in marinara, or maybe garlic potatoes with white sauce?”

“Oh, you should definitely try the potato if you haven’t yet,” Jamal said brightly, digging out the bourbon chicken and having a slice. “It’s one of our most popular pies.”

Staring warily at the young man, Sirius sized Jamal up. He couldn’t be much older than the weird kid, hardly anything much to look at. Maybe he was just really hung…? Sirius wasn’t sure, but he really didn’t like how Harry had just invited him in the house like that, feeding him and all. Course, Sirius had yet to see any pizza eaten in any of those movies Harry had stashed away, but then again, no one ever ordered more than one pizza, and Harry had paid the guy presumably a lot. Did you pay for the sex or for pizza…?

The phone rang, Sirius jumping from the unfamiliar sound. Harry slipped by him, pulling it off the hook and stepping outside the kitchen doorway. “Seriously, are you calling just to yell at me right now, Malfoy?”

Sirius edged further into the kitchen, pretending to look at the array of delicious smelling boxes and not the confusing delivery man. What the hell did Harry see in him? Pudgy, short, smiling… The brat could do better. Sirius growled, grabbing the nearest box and opening it.

“So how do you know Harry?” Jamal asked, eying the man curiously. He had only seen a few people at Harry’s, most of them characters. The one he was yelling on the phone with was about as yuppie, blue-blood as you could get.

“I’m his godfather,” Sirius growled, fairly certain it was the truth after he had said it. Annoyed, he tore into a slice of fresh mozzarella and spinach, only to freeze, eyes closing from the intense, amazing flavor hitting his senses.

“It’s good, huh?” Jamal said brightly, completely oblivious to the sudden glare sent his way.

“You’re pissing me off—Unless you want to come down here and cook us a fucking meal… No, no, of course you’re not going to do that, you arrogant… Right, right, I’m hanging up now… Son of a—” Harry returned to the kitchen and slammed the phone down. “My god, that boy nags,” he muttered, moving around Sirius to grab a slice of pizza. He paused, catching how Sirius was blatantly glaring at poor Jamal. “What are you guys talking about?”

Jamal stood, folding his slice of pizza in half. “Just meeting your godfather. I gotta get going. Thanks for the slice, Harry.” He held his non-pizza holding hand out, reaching for Sirius’s. “Nice to meet you, Sir.” Sirius just stared at his hand, making no move to shake it.

“Excuse him,” Harry said with a sigh. “Sirius hasn’t been around people for a long time.”

“Oh, like a mountain man,” Jamal said, not looking at all upset that Sirius was still glaring at him. Harry, on the other hand, was starting to get annoyed.

“Yeah, just like that,” Harry said, slapping Jamal on the back and leading him towards the front door. He glanced over his shoulder at Sirius, returning the glare sent their way. “Thanks for the pizza, man.”

“As always.” Harry waited till the man was in his car before shutting the door. Turning, he found Sirius standing in the hall.

“What? What’s your problem, Black?” Harry asked, striding down the hall and glaring up at the man. “Jamal is a very nice guy who drives over forty-five minutes to deliver me food. Believe me, it is really hard to find restaurants that deliver all the way up here.”

Sirius didn’t say anything, just stepped into the kitchen and started flipping open pizza boxes. Harry narrowed his eyes, debating if he really wanted to argue with the man. He hadn’t actually heard Sirius say anything to the delivery boy, and Jamal had seemed perfectly fine on leaving. It was actually odd to know Sirius had told him he was his godfather. Harry hadn’t thought much of it, having tried to separate from that fact when learning that Black had betrayed his parents. But that wasn’t true, and now Harry had a godfather. A godfather that was glaring at his only pizza delivery man.

Maybe Sirius was just feeling territorial of the house, not wanting people coming in. Harry decided to let it go for now, but would make a point to watch Sirius like a hawk when anyone was in the house.

“How’d you do on that game?” Harry asked, watching with interest as Sirius took two different types of pizza and smooshed them together like a sandwich, then took a bite out of it. The man just could not eat properly.

Sirius shrugged, throwing himself in a chair, legs wide as he lounged carelessly. “Wasn’t as fun alone.”

“Hmm… yeah, I guess not.” Staring at the pizza, Harry decided to try the sandwich move, throwing potato and barbecue chicken together. It was definitely a win. “Sweet,” he chirped, tearing off a bite and chewing as he got them some glasses and picked the soda off the ground. “So, we’re probably going to have to eat and hide the rest of this before 6 p.m. Which is when Draco gets out of work, and is going to come down here and throw a tantrum about me feeding you junk food. If you could not mention the throwing up of the other day, I would really appreciate it. You do not want to encourage his nagging.”

Sirius huffed, crushing pizza boxes down as he leaned on the table with his elbows and finished chewing. “Your boyfriend?”

Harry blinked, nearly spilling the soda he was pouring. “Fuck, no. Draco is a very dear friend, I love him to death, and I would likely kill him if we ever spent more than an hour together. And if I didn’t kill him, he’d kill me. When you meet him, you’ll see. He’s way too spic and span for my taste. Prat wastes half his day in the mirror.” Harry held up the soda, Sirius nodding towards the root beer.

Sirius again didn’t say anything, just gulping down the drink as it was handed to him. Harry had never felt talkative before, but next to this man he was a goddamn chatterbox. He glanced over his glass, watching Sirius discreetly. He was still favoring his side, hunched slightly. Not to mention, the man’s hair was a tangle, probably not brushed since the courthouse, and he was getting very bristly jawed. As nice a look as it was, Harry figured it couldn’t go on too long. Hell, he was still in the same clothes.

“Your stuff is going to be delivered to the house hopefully within the week, but until then I think we’re going to have to get you some things before then,” Harry said when the man looked his way again. “Off the top of my head, I’m going to say brush, toothbrush, razor, couple changes of clothes… Was there soap in your bathroom? If you can think of anything, I’ll write a list and go shopping this evening.”

Looking at Harry a long moment, Sirius said gruffly, “Flea shampoo.”

Gaping, Harry put his pizza down and wiped his hands on his jeans. He stepped up behind the man, Sirius bristling slightly when Harry carefully examined his locks. “You sure? I don’t see any…”

“I’m sure,” Sirius muttered, ducking his head down.

“Well, I’ll add it to the list,” Harry said, absentmindedly combing the man’s ponytail into some sort of order. “How’s your side feel? Anymore blood?”

Glancing back his way, Sirius sighed and lifted his shirt, leaning to the side and revealing the stitched up wound. It looked fine enough, no red around the edges or anything. “I’ll have to take those stitches out tomorrow or they’re not going to want to come up after that. You don’t happen to remember yet how you got hurt, do you?”

“I remember,” Sirius said flatly, stuffing another bite of pizza in his mouth right afterwards. Harry waited patiently, rolling his eyes when Sirius glared again at him.

“Well? What happened?”

“Got stabbed.”

Harry sighed, about ready to throttle the man. “Who stabbed you?” He pressed, trying to keep the frustration from his voice.

Sirius shrugged, looking for all the world like he was going to take another bite of pizza and refuse to answer. He paused, instead replying, “Red bearded fellow. Had glasses.”

Harry started, eyes widening as he recalled the people in the courtroom the other day. “You mean the auror?”

“Maybe… I didn’t really ask him his life story.” Sirius bit into his pizza, done with the conversation. Frowning, Harry sat in a chair, glaring at the pizza that suddenly did not seem so appetizing.

“When? When did he stab you?” Harry asked, knowing the answer was going to decide how he handled the matter.

Sirius pointed to the hallway and Harry remembered that the bearded auror had been one of the three to bring Sirius into the house the other night. “Well, fuck,” Harry hissed, standing abruptly and grabbing the phone. He left a brief message on Remus’s cell, having demanded the man join the modern world already. That someone had stepped into his house, stabbed his already terribly wronged godfather, and then walked away as if there would be no consequences infuriated Harry beyond belief.

“In my fucking home?” Harry muttered, hanging up the phone and pacing. “He came into my fucking home and stabbed you? Let me guess, while you were still chained up, right?” Sirius gave a brief nod, not looking disturbed at all about it. That was okay, Harry had enough anger for ten people. “I’m going to fucking ruin that shit. Walking into my home, committing an act of violence against a bound and innocent man—Fucking hell!”

Sirius looked around curiously as the room began to shake, eventually putting his pizza down when glasses started falling out of the cupboard and shattering to the floor. Harry just growled, spelling things clean while muttering under his breath. “Fucking goddamn piece of shit auror walking into my house—even after I told them to stay the fuck away, they weren’t needed—and then stabbing my godfather, like some fucking crazy vigilante instead of an officer of the fucking law. Fucking—Motherfucking—I need a walk. I definitely need to get the fuck out of here and go for a walk.”

He got to the front door when he suddenly turned, returning to the kitchen in a huff. “Can I leave you alone?” Harry asked, looking for all the world as if he didn’t know the answer. Sirius shrugged, not really knowing himself. So far he’d been much more calm than the weird kid had been.

Harry fidgeted from foot to foot, torn on what to do. “Fine, I’ll be upstairs. Try not to—If you throw up, just aim for something easy to clean,” he muttered, whirling and stomping up the stairs. Sirius just unburied another box, trying the Hawaiian style pizza and smiling from the taste.

Sating The Dementor’s Kiss 10

SCENE 10

Not only was Sirius Black a fast learner, he was also a terribly sore loser. Harry could not remember the last time he had heard such colorful swearing, and to such a passionate extent. Half of the time he was trying not to laugh at the man as he was sideswiped onto grass or off cliffs, slowed down by obstacles and turtle shells.

“Fucking chicken shit shells!”

Harry snickered sleepily, dragging into a turn and feeling Sirius behind him on the couch tilting his entire body in an attempt to do the same. He was vaguely aware that birds were chirping outside, the sun insisting on shining even though Harry was only now starting to feel ready to try and sleep again.

“Here, take this controller instead,” Harry said when the set of races was done. “There are other games if you want to play. Just make sure the box has this logo on it,” he said, pointing to the insignia on the game case. “There are plenty of dvd’s you can watch if you get tired of that… but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Harry added with a smile, the man completely hooked on video games in a matter of hours.

Sirius took the large controller when handed to him, staring with interest at the miniature screen in the center of it. Harry leaned up a final time, pointing out buttons and how to navigate through the main menu, yawning halfway through. “I’m gonna go back to bed,” he mumbled, pulling himself to his feet and heading for the stairs.

Once the boy left, Sirius slowly slid down to the floor, resting his back in mirror to how Harry had been sitting earlier against the couch. He stretched his legs out, relaxing, eyes straying around the room as he debated on which character to race with. His focus kept going back to the space beneath the tv console, foot rocking back and forth idly.

That had been a lot of flesh colored people for one little case cover. But not just flesh, but flesh wrapped in leather and thin cords, metal rings, one young man with a very bright red ball gag… Jamie and Lily’s sweet little boy was a total perv. Leaning forward, Sirius sneaked his hand out, hooking the last case Harry had nudged under the console and pulling if free. A total, nasty little pervert that apparently had a thing for young men being tied up and dominated by much larger, stronger men.

Eyes scanning the front of the case, he flipped to the back, squinting at the text. Reading was a little difficult after all these years, words looking unfamiliar. He tried to sound some out, eyebrows rising the further he went. Decided, he clicked the case open, ejected the game disk he was playing and switched it for the sharp edged dvd.

He quickly fumbled for the volume, eyes glancing up towards the ceiling. Nothing. The kid was hardly a quiet walker. Shit, but what a perv… Sirius couldn’t help it, clamping his hand over his mouth as the screen filled with very nude, very moaning flesh. It was no use, his laughter breaking free.

Crap, he could never watch porn, always finding it ridiculously funny… Although… he had never seen gay porn before, just the weird stuff James had rustled up with a lot of bushy chicks, very hung, but not always attractive men, and some drug induced artsy themes. This was definitely less funny… once you got over the awkwardness of watching some guy get tied up and forced to suck cock… Which Sirius was adapting to rather quickly, head tilting and socked foot rocking back and forth on the floor.

“Holy crap,” he muttered, hand covering his eyes only to peek through his fingers. When did condoms start coming out in rainbow colors? And when did men start looking so smooth down there? How they managed not to shave their balls off… “Hell… How can he…?” Sirius tilted his head the other way, side of his thumb wedged between his teeth as the very smooth blond boy was folded beyond human capability—he was pretty sure people could not contort that way—and crammed full of the larger, muscular sandy blond man.

Sirius pulled his thumb from his mouth, hitting the skip forward button on the remote. Tongue slipping over his teeth, he stopped at one with a rather slim looking brunette with dark eyes, hands being bound behind his back roughly while he whimpered. His captor could hardly be seen, wearing some weird leather hat blocking most of his face. He could be heard though, saying some very nasty things into the boy’s ear as he pushed him down onto a sturdy workbench. Why they were nude and in a garage with grease and auto parts lying around was beyond Sirius, but it didn’t seem to really matter much. Well, except for when the boy was suddenly gagged with a dirty looking rag… Maybe they were in a garage just to put that filthy rag in that very pretty mouth? The boy didn’t seem to mind, his dark eyes hooded with lust as he was roughly slammed forward and, “Ohhh.” Sirius was starting to understand the point of the garage now, a thick screwdriver handle lubed and pushed into the boy’s tight hole, being driven in and out, wrenched to the sides in likely painful ways.

Gaping at the very graphic view of just how tight that hole was, Sirius had a worrying thought. Did that kid let men do that to him? Was little Lily’s sweet tot out letting men fuck him in garages with screwdrivers and… thick hammer handles? “Holy hell,” Sirius groaned, hand again covering his eyes but failing to actually block the view. Was this just normal sex for gay men now?

Sirius grabbed quickly for the dvd box, eyes moving through the text. Fetish… fantasy… virginal—that brunette was totally not a virgin—unique, naughty bondage fantasies. Oh, thank god. Not normal. Very much fetish. Just weird, kinky… Sirius’s eyes were drawn to the screen again, his breath caught in his throat. “That won’t fit with that…” he croaked out only to be proven very wrong as the boy was double penetrated by hammer and screwdriver together.

Sirius hit the pause button, closed his eyes at just what had been paused at, and hit the eject button. “That boy needs help.” With shaking fingers, he slipped the dvd back into its case and pushed it back under the console. Then, because he was there and he really needed to know, he started pulling everything out from under the tv console, sorting as he went.

James had spawned a gay, sex-crazed, totally deranged deviant of a son. Maybe it was Lily’s fault—She had always been wild, James once confessing that she wore him out on more than one occasion keeping him up all night. Sirius had tried to tune it out at the time, really not that interested in what his best friend and girlfriend were getting up to. If he had realized what the end result of their union would be, maybe he would have said something. This couldn’t be normal.

At least, he didn’t remember it to be… Sirius used to have a flock of girls following him around in school, quickly finding out that they just weren’t that interesting. He had thought maybe he was just really fucked up by his abusive family and couldn’t let anyone in sexually. Then he’d had a random encounter with a bold sixth year punk in the boy’s bathroom his graduating year, resulting in a phenomenal blow job that had proven that he should have been barking up trousers instead of skirts. And for a very short while, he had really enjoyed exploring that new knowledge. Quietly, because being gay could still get your ass beat although not nearly as dangerous as being hunted by Voldemort.

Nothing Sirius had ever seen looked like the stuff on these boxes. Actually, he was pretty sure there wasn’t even gay stuff on boxes back then—maybe some girl on girl stuff. But there were a shit ton of gay boxes here, the majority with young men tied up and on display. Sirius tried to think back to James’s porn collection of magazines… James had probably collected twice as many magazines than his son had dvds… Maybe Harry wasn’t that fucked up…

But there were a lot of people tied up. Sirius flipped through the cases, finding only one that didn’t have anyone bound and sometimes gagged on the cover. Bedroom, flesh, sex… Sirius clicked the case open, sliding the disk in the tray and waiting for it to turn on.

There we go; people in clothes. Just two very attractive young men in clothes, kissing, and touching, and not tying each other up. And yes, those clothes did eventually end up on the floor, which was very nice as well as was when they started rolling on the bed with a very ugly looking bedspread. And if they both stopped because someone was knocking on the door, that couldn’t be too terrible because the pizza guy showing up in their bedroom was actually quite attractive and didn’t seem interested in tying anyone up either, just taking his clothes off and rolling on the bed too.

Sirius had not had pizza in over twenty years. He was pretty sure that was what everyone kept saying—Twenty. He could really go for some pizza… Maybe with a delivery guy that looked like this one… or better yet, like the slender, dark eyed brunette from the other video that was totally not a virgin. Sirius was actually rather curious to know if anything else ended up in that deceptively tight looking hole.

Humming to himself, he switched the dvd’s, trying to think what topping of pizza he would want to try first after all this time.

Sating The Dementor’s Kiss 9

SCENE 9

Harry still had nightmares even though Voldemort was long dead. Usually they were about the murderous creature in the Chamber of Secrets, sometimes a darker, smaller place where his fear burned cooler for the long wait of the cupboard being unlocked in the morning. Once in a while it was that day when Draco was nearly dying in his arms, Harry desperate to protect the boy while facing down the evil being that seemed so ready to crawl inside him and hollow him out, wanting to wear Harry like a suit. He had never told Draco about that part, had never told anyone how twisted and sick he had felt that creature to be in his head when face to face and how he had feared that Voldemort was connected still, and that he was terrible inside too.

Tonight it was that nightmare, except Voldemort had not died when Harry cast the killing curse. No, he had burrowed deep inside Harry’s flesh, the slithering, dry thing crawling down his throat, tearing his flesh from the inside out and hollowing him away. He could feel it all, his body refusing to die, feeling every bite and break of bones as the creature settled inside him and began moving him like a puppet.

Draco was there, so very pale and bleeding from his shoulder, breathing weakly. Voldemort would eat him first, drink down his pure, magic-soaked blood and grow stronger. Harry could not fight it, just watch in horror as his own hands reached for the slender boy, his own mouth widening while Draco screamed…

Harry awoke with a loud scream, heaving for air as he abruptly sat up in bed. “Fuck—FUCK!” He yelled into his hands. “Fucking Voldemort, sick, fucking sick, sick, twisted monster!” He whimpered, pulling his hands down his face, feeling the sweat and tears that usually went hand in hand with the fucked up nightmares.

Something shifted in the dark of his room and Harry jumped, wand summoned to his hand before he was even aware that he had called it. Harry breathed out unsteadily when he saw it was just Sirius, blue eyes watching him angrily from his doorway.

“Shit. Sorry, Mr. Black,” Harry growled, bringing the lights up to a very dim glow in his bedroom. “I should have warned you I get night terrors. I live alone so I forget just how fucking terrible it can be for someone else to hear.”

The man’s glare grew, as if Harry naming the issue made it worse. “I thought you were being murdered,” Sirius finally muttered, his body losing some of its tension of earlier.

Looking at him, Harry let out a hysterical laugh. “Yes, well, that was the gist of the nightmare.” Not interested in going back to bed and reliving said murder and murdering, Harry pushed his blankets down, trying to get his shaking limbs to move properly. “Sorry, really. I’ll put up silencing spells from now on. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing screaming…” he trailed off, remembering Sirius’s pleas to die because of the screaming. Harry toed through the clothing on his floor, finding a pair of loose pajama bottoms that he slipped on over his briefs and then quickly putting a semi clean t-shirt on.

Black was still standing in the doorway, eyes looking around the room curiously, lighting on Harry once in a while only to slip away. “You feeling okay, Mr. Black?” Harry asked, noticing for the first time that he was paler than normal and a little shaky. “Your wound didn’t open up again, did it?”

Sirius shook his head, stepping back into the hallway. “I, uh… forgot which door…” Following him, Harry raised his brows, realizing he didn’t know how to get back to his room. Early Friday morning, this was the first time he had seen Sirius outside of his room and he was likely confused by the size of the place. Harry stepped to the right, passing a bathroom, his gym, and office he never used, knocking on the door that Sirius was to be sleeping in.

“Here.” With a flourish, Harry waved his wand, spelling out Black in bold black letters over the door, his penmanship only a little crooked. “Now you’ll never wonder.” Sirius nodded mutely, eyes straying over the word, hand reaching up to brush the letters. Looking at the man and just how lost he still seemed, Harry added lightly. “You don’t have to go to bed, you know. I’m sure as hell not sleeping again tonight. Why don’t you come downstairs and have some tea?”

Turning his gaze to him, Sirius nodded again, not saying a word. Realizing he likely would not be talking much unless he had something to say, Harry just started walking, Sirius following slowly like some lost dog. It was almost funny. Harry had never had a pet, not wanting to deal with the responsibility of having his shit together enough to feed and entertain another living being. Yet, here he was trying to do it for this messed up man.

Stepping down the staircase, Harry started flicking lamps on, the windows that were open revealing it was pitch black outside, only 3 a.m. He went straight for the kettle, filling it with water and putting it on a burner. Harry then led Sirius into the living room, pointing towards the couch. Sirius continued to stand, staring at his large flat-screen tv with interest.

“You probably haven’t seen one of these,” Harry said with a small smile. Televisions had come a long way in twenty years, and as a wizard, Sirius may have never even owned one himself. Thinking quickly, Harry crouched to the floor, unwrapping another controller and hooked it up. He owned all the game consoles available along with the newest games, not caring that Draco thought it was a waste of his inheritance. Harry needed distractions from the terrible nightmares and thoughts that plagued him, and video games filled the void.

“Here, take this and sit,” Harry said, handing the controller to the man. Sirius sat slowly, his eyes staring at the black remote, fingers moving over the buttons as he turned it. Harry began rooting around under the tv console, looking for the game he had just been playing a week ago, throwing cases everywhere. “I really need some sort of organizer for all these things,” he commented to himself. They had some nice shelves, he just hadn’t felt like ordering anything, mostly because then it meant actually having to organize his stuff, which he would over analyze and turn into an annoying project leaving him with the need to have to put things back where they belonged, alphabetically, because he was a crazy person when being neat. It was better to be a slob and not obsess.

“Hardcore bondage boys…”

Then again, organizing might be a very smart thing to do now that he had a long term house guest. Harry whirled, snagged the very graphically imaged dvd case from Sirius’s fingers, and threw it under the tv console with perfect aim. “Ignore that… and that… and that…” Harry said, kicking another two under the console. “I live alone,” he reminded tightly, and knelt back on the floor to slide the game disk into the tray.

The kettle began to whistle, Harry turning towards the sound. “What kind of tea do you like?”

Staring at the television, racing cars zipping by as Mario Cart came on, it took Sirius a long time to answer. “Black,” he finally said, tearing his eyes from the bright graphics. “With milk… or was it sugar?”

“Hey, you’ll have a lifetime to figure it out,” Harry said casually, walking towards the kitchen. “I’ll bring the servers in and you can adjust how you like.” Once alone in the kitchen. Harry buried his face in his hands, growling lowly. Porn? Fucking porn? Shit, was he going to have to childproof his house or something? Could he unknowingly be traumatizing this already messed up man with exposure to his bondage fetish?

“Suck it up, Potter,” Harry muttered to himself, grabbing two mugs and rooting through his cabinets for the tea. He had a couple of black varieties, Draco’s favorite, so just put them on a tray with the mugs, filled a cup with milk and grabbed the sugar bowl. He left the tray on the couch next to Sirius, the man still staring quite fixedly on the graphics of racers zipping around a track. Which then made Harry wonder if he was somehow fucking up the man’s brain with flashing lights and colors—Could you get epilepsy from being in prison too long?

Cursing himself internally, Harry went back for the hot water, the steam as he filled the two mugs grabbing Sirius’s attention. “Pick your pois—er, tea,” Harry said, cutting off his very inappropriate joke considering Black had thought he was trying to poison him before. He returned the kettle to the stove and opened up a cinnamon tea for himself, throwing the bag in the hot water. Black ended up picking a vanilla chai, silently watching as the water slowly changed colors.

Harry sat on the floor in front of the tray, preferring the flatness of the floor, his back against the bottom of the couch. With his own controller, he started flicking through the options, sipping his hot tea.

“You ever play a video game?” Harry asked, glancing up to where the man was again staring, tea completely forgotten beside him.

“Tetris. It didn’t look like this.”

“No, it probably didn’t. This is a cart game… er, racing. You go a few laps trying to be first. You can sabotage other players, do jumps… It’s pretty fun.” Harry got up to his knees, leaning over Sirius and pointing at the different buttons. “Select the character with this—You unlock more options as you play. Then I’ll show you how to actually race. I’ll start on a slow level so you can get the hang of it.”

Sirius was again looking at his face silently, blue eyes very much intense and glaring into his. Harry sat back, doing his best not to blush. He should be considering that Sirius was dangerous and fucked in the head, thinking things like he was trying to kill him with his cooking. Instead, Harry was wondering if Black had ever fucked a guy and if he had glared like that when he had come. Very much inappropriate thoughts that he hoped the game would help him silence.

Harry waited patiently for Sirius to get the hang of moving through the screen, selecting with the cursor, finding a car he liked the look of. Harry didn’t even bother telling him about the stats, feeling like that was just a bit much for a first time player. Having another swig of his tea, Harry’s eyes strayed down to the man’s socked feet. Very much larger than his… How accurate was that old wives’ tale?

“Right, so now this is when you need to know how to accelerate and brake, and this button lets you jump and drag for the turns.” Harry got up again, indicating the buttons and then pointing to the screen. “See… that gets you moving… steer with this… brake, and jump… Got it?”

“I think…” Biting his tongue, Sirius glared up at the screen, glancing down at his hands from time to time to figure out where he was pressing. Harry watched him, eyes straying to the man’s stubble. He’d have to get him a razor… As long as he didn’t try to stab himself with it.

Harry sat back down, stretching his legs out and idly moving his character around while he waited for Sirius to get the hang of things. How had Black gotten that wound? Someone had cleaned him up for court. Had the wound been there before, or after? Had it been self inflicted or had someone attacked him? If Black was suicidal Harry would need to watch him twenty-four seven… Maybe a monitoring spell, like parents did for infants.

“Hey, that… What did that do?” Sirius asked, watching his character suddenly light up and grow small, moving painfully slow across the screen.

“It’s one of the things you can get to sabotage the other racers. Just, a character used it on you.” Harry quickly went through the list of items and how to use them, doubting he would remember it all. Except Sirius was already moving smoother around the track, starting to knock into other players aggressively to get ahead. He was catching on pretty fast. Putting his tea down, Harry decided it was time to join in.