When Harry awoke the next morning, there was a large part of his brain that was certain the whole thing had been a dream. But he'd never been in a bed that comfortable; not at the Dursleys', and not at Hogwarts. He cracked one eye open, lips spreading in a grin. Even without his glasses he could see he wasn't at Privet Drive.
His new room really was incredible. He'd been too tired to take much of it in the night before, but he sat up and put his glasses on now, hardly daring to believe the room was all his.
The alarm clock on the bedside table said it was only six fifteen, and Harry doubted anyone else in the house would rise at that hour. He briefly contemplated going back to sleep, but it was no use. Now he was up, he was restless. He looked at his trunk, sitting at the foot of his new bed. His wand, still in its holster on the bedside table. He grinned to himself.
Sirius had said he could do as much magic as he wanted.
The Unpacking spell was one from A Hundred Spells Every Wizard Should Know, and Harry hadn't had much chance to practice it, but he'd been okay at it the last time he'd tried. He opened his trunk and his wardrobe, as well as the top drawers. Wand in hand, he murmured the spell. It was all about visualisation; he had to think clearly about how he wanted his things organised, otherwise they'd just shove themselves willy-nilly in his wardrobe.
His neatly folded clothes began to float out of the trunk, carefully arranging themselves the way they did in Harry's mind. They put themselves on hangers, or folded themselves into the drawers, and Harry laughed triumphantly when all his clothes were successfully where he wanted them to be. Next was books. A flick of his wand, and his books were arranging themselves alphabetically on his empty shelves. There was still so much empty space, and Harry was eager to fill it.
The rest of his things, he placed by hand. Hedwig's cage went on top of the dresser, his Firebolt was propped up next to the window. The few photos he had to display went on his shelves, along with the Sneakoscope from Ron. His quills and parchment sat carefully on his desk waiting for him to complete his homework. His little Wizarding Wireless went on his bedside table next to the alarm clock.
When he opened the drawer of his bedside table to put away his photo album, he froze. Lined up inside were several potion vials, all labelled in Snape's neat, spidery handwriting.
Bruise Balm - For topical application only
Skele-Gro - Only use if necessary
Nutritional Supplement - Six doses (marked), take before sleep
Standard Healing Potion, Grade 3 - Drink on empty stomach
Harry's pulse thudded in his throat, his palms growing clammy. Snape couldn't have snuck those in while Harry was sleeping, could he? He must have left them there before Harry had arrived — before he'd seen the way Harry lived at the Dursleys.
He swallowed thickly. How much did the adults think they knew? How many of Snape's suspicions had been confirmed by his little jaunt to retrieve Harry? The prospect squirmed in his stomach, anxiety clawing its way up his chest.
Your father should have tried harder to beat it out of you.
Maybe their similarities would be enough for Snape to keep silent. Surely if he wanted to confront Harry, he wouldn't have left the potions? He was a Slytherin, he respected subtlety. He may let Harry deal with his own demons.
But if Snape knew, what did Remus and Sirius know?
There was a knock on the door, and Harry slammed the drawer shut. He nudged the door open with a flick of his wand, revealing Remus in the doorway. He was wearing a dark brown dressing gown over blue striped pyjamas, and his hair stuck up haphazardly. "Morning, cub. Thought I heard you up and about." He looked around the room, then at the wand in Harry's hand, and smiled. "Making yourself at home? That's quite the book collection you're building there. I hadn't realised you were such a voracious reader."
"I had a lot of things to research last summer. And a lot of access to Flourish and Blotts," he added sheepishly, making Remus chuckle.
"I'm glad you're settling in. Are you hungry? Ceri should have breakfast done soon."
Harry's stomach rumbled loud enough for both of them to hear it. "I could eat," he said after a beat. Remus snorted. "Are the others up? Sirius, and, uh, Professor Snape?" Harry felt himself blush.
"Sirius is still in bed, but Severus is already downstairs." Remus paused, looking conflicted. "Harry, are you sure you're alright with our— our relationship? If it's too much for you—"
"No, really!" Harry insisted, desperately not wanting Remus to think he had a problem with two men together. "It's not that. It's just, he's my Potions professor, and he hated me for as long as I've known him, and to see him being nice is just… weird."
Something in Remus' posture seemed to ease, and he ran a hand through his messy hair. "Severus is a man of many masks, with many roles to play," he conceded. "I told you before, he doesn't hate you. By the end of the summer you two might even be friends."
Harry gave him a look that said he was pushing his luck. Remus winked. "You never know, Harry. He keeps his emotions close to his chest, but he's really not as awful as he likes to pretend. The two of you are actually more alike than you know, in some ways."
His Aunt Petunia's words drifted through his mind again. Harry swallowed. He wasn't sure if that was something he wanted to have in common with Snape.
"I expect it to take time for you two to warm up to each other," Remus continued, oblivious to Harry's internal conflict. "But he cares for you, deep down."
"Do you love him?" Harry bit his tongue as soon as the question escaped, cheeks flaming. Remus looked a little abashed, but a soft smile crossed his face.
"I have loved Severus since before I really knew what love even was," he replied unashamedly. "And difficult as it might be for you to comprehend, he loves me as well. He's just not the most… expressive man on the planet." He shook his head, snapping himself out of his daze. "Anyway, enough of my lovesick rambling. Breakfast!"
Harry followed him down to the kitchen, where Professor Snape was already sat at the table, reading the Daily Prophet with a cup of tea at his elbow. Ceri was at the stove once again, frying eggs.
"Can Ceri be getting sirs anything to drink?" she asked brightly. "We be having tea, coffee, pumpkin juice, orange juice, milk—"
"Orange juice would be great, please," Harry requested. With a snap of her fingers, a glass of orange juice began pouring itself from a jug on the counter, and floated its way over to Harry. At Remus' request, she made more tea.
"Master Sirius be snoozing in late," Ceri said in fond reprimand, and Remus chuckled.
"He isn't used to being allowed a lie-in. He'll be down as soon as he smells that bacon cooking."
Harry watched as Remus leaned over Snape's shoulder with one hand on the man's back, reading the Prophet article with a frown on his face. Snape didn't seem bothered by the contact, merely tilting his head so Remus could get a better look. Then Remus just sat down at the table, in the same spot he had last night.
It was strange. Harry hadn't seen many couples interacting before. Just his aunt and uncle — never a role model for anything, let alone healthy relationships — and Mr and Mrs Weasley. He didn't think all the madly snogging teenage couples at Hogwarts counted. He couldn't imagine Snape and Remus acting like the Weasleys, with their frequent pecks on the cheek and terms of endearment. He thought Snape might explode if Remus ever called him 'sweetheart', or 'darling'. Yet he didn't doubt Remus for a second when he said Snape loved him. He just didn't think he would ever hear the professor say the words.
As Remus predicted, Sirius shuffled down the stairs in his pyjamas once the smell of bacon started filling the house, still half-asleep by the looks of it. He ran a fond hand over Harry's hair as he passed. "Morning, pup." He slumped into his seat. "Ceri, everything smells amazing."
"Yous is being late, Master Sirius," Ceri said in reply, floating the breakfast plates over to the table. Sirius shot her a dazzling grin.
"But you waited for me anyway, because you're wonderful." The house elf blushed, turning back to the stove.
Ceri was very different to Dobby, in so many ways. Harry wondered which was a more accurate example of house elves.
"So," Sirius said once everyone had started eating. "Rules of the house." Harry eyed him in trepidation, and Sirius laughed. "Don't look so scared, pup. It's just a few things. Number one; no flying without telling one of us first, and certainly not after dark." That was reasonable; Harry could get hurt flying at night. "Number two; don't go into the woods unsupervised. There's all sorts of things that'll gobble you up in there." Again, reasonable. "Number three; there's a potions lab in the basement, it's now Snape's domain. Don't go down there unless he specifically asks you to. Some of the things he brews are sensitive." Harry had no desire to go in Snape's potions lab, so he nodded quickly. "Number four; expect retaliation for any pranks played."
At this, Remus buried his head in his hands with a long-suffering sigh. "No prank wars, Padfoot."
"But Moony!" Sirius whined, sounding younger than Harry. "We just want a little fun!"
Remus looked from Sirius, to Harry, to Snape, who raised an eyebrow. "If they prank me, you can be sure I will retaliate," he said unrepentantly. Remus sighed.
"You're just as bad as he is. Fine, rule five — no permanent or potentially harmful pranks," he warned sternly, using his Professor Voice.
"Ugh, fine. Spoilsport," Sirius muttered. "Carrying on. Rule six; no going outside on the full moon. Remus has his potion, but we're not taking any chances. And finally, rule seven; ask if you need help. With anything. Whether it's help with a spell, or your homework, or if you just need someone to talk to; all three of us are happy to help however we can. You don't need to handle everything by yourself anymore Got it?"
"I— I'll try." It would be a hard habit to break, and Harry could make no promises. Sirius nodded; that was enough for him. "Great. Now all that boring stuff's out of the way, any questions?"
"Am I allowed to write to my friends? Will their owls be able to find this place?" If the house was Unplottable, did that mean owls couldn't get there?
"Owl magic is different; they'll be able to find you anywhere. You're perfectly welcome to write to your friends, as long as you don't tell them where you are or who you're with, of course." Harry shot his godfather a 'duh' look. "There's a little Owlery upstairs, I'll show you it later."
"There's an owl up there that I use when I need something more… anonymous than my usual owl," Snape piped up. "Her name is Artemis, she's the tawny owl. You're welcome to use her should you have need to write to anyone that would raise questions should Hedwig be seen visiting. Snowy owls are quite distinctive."
Harry's mind immediately flashed to Draco. And some of the other heirs, too. "Oh. Thank you, Professor. I appreciate that." How long would it take him to get used to Snape being nice to him?
After breakfast, Snape was the first one to get to his feet. "I have potions to brew," he declared. Remus glanced up from the paper.
"Don't blow the house up," he said with a fond smile. Snape made a faintly offended noise, and left the room. "What do you fancy doing today, Harry? After the grand tour, of course."
"I don't know." Harry had never been allowed to do whatever he liked before. "I might go flying."
"How about I show you around, and then you can decide," Sirius said, looking eager to give Harry the tour. Harry looked down at himself.
"Give me ten minutes to take a shower and get dressed, and I'll meet you in the entrance hall," he agreed. Sirius beamed.
Harry's bathroom was much nicer than anything he was used to; with both a shower and a huge claw-foot bathtub, everything decorated in black and white marble tiles with silver accents. There was also a full-length mirror, and Harry took the opportunity to see how bad the bruises on his back were. Not as awful as he expected. He'd certainly had worse. Nonetheless, he grabbed Snape's Bruise Balm to apply after his shower. No need to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Sirius was dressed too when Harry met him, in loose jeans with a hole in the knee and a worn-looking muggle band t-shirt that might have actually come from the 1970s. "Perfect! Come on!" Sirius grabbed him by the hand, tugging him over to a room he hadn't yet been in, and the tour began.
There was the parlour, the smoking room, the downstairs bedroom suite, the pantry — of course the kitchen, where Ceri waved while cracking several eggs into a bowl — the formal dining room, and the duelling room.
And that was just on the ground floor.
Harry was whizzed through another sitting room, a playroom, at least eight bedrooms, a nursery, four bathrooms, a library — where they found Remus absorbed in a book — the big study and the small study, the music room, another playroom, the Owlery, a bathroom with a bath the size of a small swimming pool, a dressing room, a drawing room, and then all the way down to the basement to see the wine cellar, the wardstone and ritual room, the safe room and the door to the potions lab.
"I won't knock, Snape'll bite our heads off," Sirius said at that one, gently steering Harry past it. Harry was out of breath, and didn't understand how Sirius was still talking a mile a minute as they returned to the entrance hall.
"This place is enormous!" Harry remarked, and Sirius laughed.
"One day I'll take you to the Black family manor, down in Cornwall. It makes this place look like a dollhouse." Harry stared at him incredulously. "Come on, I'll show you around the grounds."
It was a glorious sunny day outside, and Sirius tipped his head back with a grin, basking in the sun for a minute. "Still not used to that," he murmured to himself. Harry's heart twisted; there wasn't any sun in Azkaban. Sirius shook it off though, cheerfully marching onwards. "The treeline is the property line, so don't ever go past it unless one of us is with you." The woods circled the whole house; even the driveway just led into the trees. "All the fun stuff is around the back, come on."
Their first stop was the stables; five stalls, only one of which was occupied. "Buckbeak!" Harry greeted cheerfully, offering the hippogriff a bow. Buckbeak bowed in return, then butted his head into Harry's chest, demanding to be petted. When they left, Buckbeak followed them, occasionally nudging Sirius' shoulder fondly with his beak.
"There's a greenhouse over there, it's a bit wild at the minute. Ceri wasn't sure what to do with it all these years. I think Snape plans to grow some potions ingredients in it, but I don't know how much of a green thumb he has. If you want to get stuck in, take one of us with you; we're not entirely sure what's growing in there right now. Something might bite your head off." Harry laughed, but a glance at Sirius' face made him realise the man was completely serious. He thought of some of the plants in the restricted greenhouses at school, for seventh year study only, and grimaced.
"Is that a swimming pool?" Harry gaped, seeing the stone-edged pool sunk into the ground.
"Yup," Sirius replied proudly. "Got it up and running on Saturday. Feel free to take a dip whenever. If you're drowning, yell for Ceri." That was a joke, and Sirius winked. "Also, look over there."
Harry looked in the direction Sirius was pointing, only for the man to tilt his chin until Harry was looking up. He gasped. "A quidditch pitch!"
"Half-pitch," Sirius corrected. "Not quite enough room for a full one. I know you're not a chaser, so the goals aren't as important to you, but they're there if you ever fancy your hand with a quaffle. There's a full set of equipment in the broom shed — the snitch hasn't been used in a while, so it might be a bit wonky, but we can always have Remus or Snape pick up another one."
"Sirius, this place is incredible." Not only was he away from the Dursleys, but he was away from them at a house that had a swimming pool and a quidditch pitch. Unbelievable.
"It's pretty great, isn't it?" Sirius agreed wistfully. "It brings back old memories. I stopped going after my parents kicked me out; spent every summer at James' instead. Mr and Mrs Potter were brilliant, don't get me wrong, and The Pottery is a dream house, but… I've missed this place."
"Your parents kicked you out?" Harry asked, surprised. "Oh, yeah. First I sullied the family name by being sorted into Gryffindor, then I made friends with halfbloods and muggleborns and light wizards, and there was no going back. Blasted my name off the family tree, but never officially disinherited me. There's a ritual, it's a bit complicated, I s'pose Mum never got around to it. Or she hoped I'd see sense… either way, I'm the head of the family, now. At least, I would be if I weren't a convict."
"So who's head at the moment?"
"No one, technically," Sirius said with a shrug. "The family magic went a bit dormant in me while I was in Azkaban, but it's still there; since I never had a trial, it was never officially stripped from me. I just can't fully access it until I can step into the Wizengamot and claim my seat again, which obviously I can't do until I'm a free man. Until then, Dumbledore's my proxy." His sour expression showed exactly what he thought of that. "Once you come of age, you can take it back, though."
"Unless we can get your name cleared before then," Harry pointed out. "Don't give up hope, Sirius."
Sirius shrugged again. "Doesn't really bother me either way. I've got you, and Moony, and I'm out of that blasted prison cell. S'all I need for the minute." Both of them looked up when they heard a bell ring out across the grounds. Sirius grinned. "Lunch is ready."
Remus and Snape were already at the table when Sirius and Harry joined them, talking quietly to each other. "I still think it's too early, Severus," Remus was saying, before he looked up at their arrival. "Hello, boys. Been keeping out of trouble?"
"For the most part," Sirius replied easily, sprawling lazily in his chair and reaching for a plate. Ceri had made a quiche that was packed with vegetables and ham. Harry's stomach growled. "Eat up, pup. You're a growing boy. With plenty more growing to do, by the looks of you; even Lily wasn't that short at your age."
Harry ducked his head. He'd resigned himself to his short stature; kids who grew up in cupboards and barely got fed didn't end up six feet tall.
"Having fun, Harry?" Remus asked kindly. Harry beamed.
"Oh, yeah! Did you know this place has a quidditch pitch? I can't wait to fly. And the library is huge! I bet there's books that aren't even in the Hogwarts library." "Definitely. Some of those books are older than Hogwarts itself. So no food or drink in the library, alright?" Remus warned, and Harry nodded. As he ate, he gathered his courage for a question.
"Were you serious last night, when you said you'd train me?" he asked tentatively. "If you don't want to that's fine, I'm sure you're all busy, but—"
"Harry, we'd be happy to," Remus assured. "All three of us. That's actually what Severus and I were just talking about before you came in; if it's alright with you, I put together a sort-of schedule for the summer. It's got everything that the three of us thought you needed to learn, and we can always add in more things if you pick those up quickly. Or if there's something you'd like to learn that we can squeeze in."
He handed Harry a piece of parchment, and Harry unrolled it curiously.
Monday AM - Schoolwork
Monday PM - Misc. Spellwork
Tuesday AM - Duelling and defence
Tuesday PM - Free time
Wednesday AM - Potions
Wednesday PM - Occlumency
Thursday AM - Free time
Thursday PM - Wizarding culture
Friday AM - Warding
Friday PM - Schoolwork
"You can have the weekend free, and of course the evenings. And any time you feel it's too much, just say so," Remus said hurriedly. "I just thought… it's a start."
"It looks great!" His tone fell just short of sincere. Remus levelled him with a knowing look.
"What's wrong? Is it too much?"
"No, no! It's just… Potions?" He made a helpless face.
"I refuse to associate with anyone who cannot brew a simple Pepper-Up Potion," Snape drawled. "I do not expect you to become a master, but by Salazar, you will be at least somewhat proficient in brewing by the end of the summer. Potions are an important part of wizarding life, and you need to be capable of at least basic healing potions. There may come a time when there is no one you trust available to brew them for you."
Harry sighed — he hated to admit it, but the man had a point. Maybe he would be better at Potions without Slytherins throwing things in his cauldron, or Snape taking points every five minutes. Unless… "You can't take house points during the summer, right?" he checked suspiciously. Snape's lips twitched.
"That is correct, Mr Potter."
"Okay then. I'll study Potions." He didn't miss the way Remus lifted his glass of pumpkin juice to hide a smile. "So we start tomorrow, then? With schoolwork?"
"If you'd like. I figured you could get your homework out of the way, and then after that we can use that slot to go over anything from previous years that has given you trouble, or get a head start on next year's work," Remus suggested.
"Works for me." Harry leaned back in his chair, wondering what to do with his afternoon. He really wanted to try out that quidditch pitch. "I think I'm going to go flying, if that's alright?" He raised an enquiring eyebrow at Remus — who seemed to be the most responsible one of the trio — who nodded. "But first, I'm going to write some letters. Am I alright to borrow your owl, Professor?"
"I have no need of her for now," Snape acquiesced. Harry smiled in thanks, then excused himself from the table, hurrying up to his room.
The first letter he wrote was to Draco.
Draco,
First off, this is Artemis. She belongs to a friend. I thought Hedwig might give the game away a bit.
How are you? Are you in Italy yet, or France? I hope your summer is off to a good start. Mine got unexpectedly better than I ever thought. I can't tell you why. Let's just say I have some unanticipated company.
Are you going to the Quidditch World Cup this summer? Ron's going to see if his dad can get tickets. I think it'd be brilliant to go, but even if I can't, I think I'm in for a great summer.
Hope you're well,
Harry
That was alright, wasn't it? Not too much information, and not too overly forward? His friendship with Draco was still so new and unsteady, he never knew how to act around the blond. Next he wrote to Neville.
Hi Neville,
Hope you and your gran are doing well. Any fun summer plans so far? My summer is looking to be pretty good, for once.
I'm going to write to a few mutual friends this summer, if I can. If you know of anyone who would like to write to me, tell them I'm all clear to receive owls.
Talk to you soon,
Harry
After that, he wrote a couple of short letters to Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, explaining that he was okay to have mail through the summer and he'd be happy to keep in touch if they wanted to. Once Artemis had taken those, he'd try a few more maybe.
There were others he wanted to write to — he wanted to write to the twins, and he should probably write to Ron and Hermione soon to stop them getting suspicious — but he didn't want to overload the owls with too many letters at once.
He'd already been to the Owlery once that day, and when he went back up he was glad to see Hedwig perched on one of the overhead beams, looking content. There were three other owls beside her; Remus' owl, a barn owl named Horatio; Snape's owl, a dark screech owl called Asphodel; and Artemis. She was a fairly unremarkable tawny owl, and she cooed softly at Harry when he called her down. "You too, Hedwig," he requested. He secured the letter to Neville on her first; no one would blink twice at Hedwig visiting the Longbottom household.
Once she had set off, Harry gently secured his three notes to Artemis' leg. "Take that one last, and wait for a response, okay?" he said, pointing at the letter for Draco. Artemis hooted, bobbed her head, and took off through the open window. Harry watched the two owls fly away for a minute, then grinned. It was time for him to do some flying of his own.
.-.-.
Once Harry had thoroughly exhausted himself on his Firebolt, he took another quick shower and went to find some sort of company. He came across Sirius in the main living room, sprawled out on the thick rug in front of the fire. At first Harry thought he was asleep, until he picked his head up and blinked at Harry. "Hey, pup. Have a good fly?"
"It was great!" Harry enthused, taking a seat in the nearest armchair. He didn't often get time to just be on his broom, enjoy the wind rushing through his hair and the blood pumping in his veins as he dove and flipped through the air. "I never said thank you for the Firebolt, by the way, but I really love it. It's amazing."
Sirius rolled onto his back, a contented grin tugging at his lips. "Glad it makes you happy, pup. You'll have to let me take it for a spin sometime; I haven't been flying in years."
"Did you play quidditch?"
"I was a beater in my fifth and sixth years, but I wasn't as in love with it as the rest of the team, and by seventh I decided to let my place go to a talented little third year. I always liked flying, though. James and I used to spend half our summers on brooms. We could never convince Moony to join us."
"You should get your own broom," Harry suggested. "Then we could go flying together."
"I might have to. It's been a while since I tossed a quaffle around, but I'm sure I'll pick it back up eventually." He turned his face towards the fire. It wasn't exactly cold outside, but Sirius didn't seem to care, basking in the heat from the flames. "We're going to have a great summer, pup. To make up for all the rubbish ones. All the ones I missed."
"It wasn't your fault, Sirius," Harry insisted. Sirius grimaced.
"We'll agree to disagree there, Harry." He sat up, running a hand through his chin-length hair. "Are you sure you want to spend your summer having lessons? I know there's things you wanted to learn, but if Remus is coming on a bit strong with the schedule and all, you can say so."
"No, I honestly want to," Harry promised. "It's way better than spending my summers weeding the garden and cooking for the Dursleys." He saw Sirius frown, and ploughed on quickly. "Besides, school is great and all, but there's so much magic they don't teach you. Magic they don't think is important because people in wizarding households grow up with it. I want to learn everything I missed out on by being raised by muggles." There were so many basic household charms that they never bothered to teach in school, which would be fine if all the students had parents to teach them, but not everyone did. "You really are Lily's boy, aren't you?" Sirius remarked. "Moony told me, but I didn't quite believe it. After seeing you run after your friend into the Shack, I thought you had to be James through and through." He chuckled to himself. "Probably for the best, to be honest. James always needed Lily's logic to balance him out. He was a bit thick by himself, bless his soul."
"Everyone always says I'm like my dad. I think because I look like him," Harry said, looking down at the dark skin of his hands, which was already starting to go even more brown from being out in the sun all afternoon.
"I think people forget that Lily had a Gryffindor streak a mile wide, too," Sirius said, swinging up to sit cross-legged facing Harry. "And Merlin, she could prank with the best of them. She didn't do it often, but every now and then someone would really piss her off, and you could always tell a Lily Evans masterpiece. They were beautiful. Once in fifth year this Ravenclaw bloke cheated on one of Lily's best friends, so she hexed him to make every piece of cutlery melt as soon as he touched it. Told him to eat face-first like the pig he was. It was brilliant. She was just so studious and sweet all the rest of the time that no one ever thought she could be trouble."
"She sounds amazing," Harry sighed.
"She was. Far too good for our Jamie. He knew he was doing well for himself with her. But she loved him to bits, once he deflated his head a bit. Stopped bullying Snape. I think half the reason it pissed Lily off so much was because James couldn't see how mad Remus was for the bloke. He didn't even realise they were shagging til after we graduated, and only then because he walked in on it," Sirius said with a roguish wink, making Harry blush.
"How long have they been together?" Surely he hadn't been oblivious to it all last year? Someone would've said if two of the professors were… involved, especially if one of them was Snape. The Hogwarts rumour mill wouldn't keep that one quiet.
"It's complicated with those two," Sirius told him. "It was inevitable since second year, but true love never does run smooth. As much as it pains me to admit that old Snivelly's really Moony's true love. Could be worse, I suppose."
"Remus seems to like him," Harry approached tentatively. There had to be something good about Snape if Remus loved him.
"Oh, he's not as bad as he used to be. He's actually been fairly decent to live with, so far," Sirius relented. "He'll probably be the one teaching you Occlumency, by the way. I thought about it, but Snape's a far better Legilimens than I am. He's been helping me sort out my own mind, y'know. Twelve years in Azkaban really did a number on my organisation skills up there," he said with a tap to his forehead. "Hasn't pried, hasn't asked questions, hasn't mocked me for anything he saw up there. Maybe he really has changed." Sirius sighed. "Or maybe I was always just too much of a pillock to see what Remus and Lily saw in him."
Harry didn't really know what to say to that. Luckily, he was saved having to find an answer by Remus calling them for dinner. Sirius jumped to his feet, his melancholy mood slipping away in the blink of an eye. "Come on, pup. Maybe after dinner we can get the two lovebirds to play cards with us or something. Have you ever played Warlock's Bluff?"