![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
traintracksTitle: Daylight – Part Six of Six - Epilogue
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
traintracks777 / traintracks
Part Five: On DW | On LJ
_________________________
“Don’t lose those Patronuses over the break!” Harry called after his last Defense against the Dark Arts class of the day. Half were already out the door, ready for Spring Break and visits home and whatever it was students who weren’t preparing for a war did during Spring Breaks nowadays. Apparate to San Diego to surf?
He was packing up his own things when three of his star pupils – of course it would be them – approached his desk. “Professor Potter, sir?”
“Yes, Ms. Granger.”
Penelope Granger was Hermione’s little cousin and every bit as bookish as Hermione had been. She also happened to be a talented Beater, big for her age, shy, and cursed with the Granger head of hair. Harry tried not to play favorites, but it was difficult when here was a student who was top of her class, one of the best Quidditch players to take the field in the last decade, and still she was unpopular and made fun of, just for a little baby fat and three extra vertical inches.
“Jason, Michael, and I were wondering what we could work on over the break,” she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. Jason and Michael, her two closest friends, flanked her and silently waited for instruction.
“Well,” Harry began, crossing his arms. “You could work on your dueling. Or you could start on those advanced fire spells we’re going to be getting to next term.” They were all nodding. Penelope was taking fast notes. “Or you could relax and enjoy some time off,” Harry said pointedly.
They stared at him, crestfallen. He bit back a laugh and simply smiled instead. “It’s only a week. Go have some fun, will you? What do you do for fun?”
Penelope bit her lip. “Write my own comic books?”
“Good!” he replied. “Jason?”
“I, uh, collect bugs.”
“Okay,” Harry answered with slightly less enthusiasm. “Michael?”
Michael just shrugged.
“Well, you work on that,” Harry told him. “Please. All of you. You’re the most talented kids in my class.” They all beamed, blushing. “The wars are over. Just take some time to do the things you like and be with the people you love. Okay?”
“Yes, Professor Potter,” they all recited morosely. It was the same tone any of the others would have used had he given them detention. Merlin’s Beard.
“Now, go on and get packed. You don’t want to miss the farewell lunch before the train.”
They filed out of his room, and Harry couldn’t get his things together fast enough. And his haste had nothing to do with the lunch.
Sixteen weeks. He hadn’t been home for sixteen weeks. What was that – four months? Ridiculous was what it was. And Harry didn’t count the time they’d met up in Hogsmeade and gotten a room for the night, either. One night with Sirius was not and would never be enough to keep Harry satisfied. Not for sixteen bloody weeks!
Harry was just about to sling his pack over his shoulder and bolt out of the room when a spectacularly old owl came barrel-turning into the room, skidding across his desk and sending papers everywhere. “Blimey, Wilson!” Harry scolded, though when the bird eyed him with what looked like genuine owl chagrin, Harry softened his tone. “What have you then, boy?” He took the note from the poor, bedraggled creature and read:
“If you don’t come straight home, you’re getting the whip once you do.
Your Loving,
Sirius”
Harry smiled to himself. To be honest, he blushed. He pet the owl’s head almost absently. Then he looked right in its eyes. “You did good, Wilson.” The bird ruffled his feathers. “Why don’t you take a couple nights off in the Owlrey and keep Hedwig company, then you can both fly back home once you’re rested, how does that sound, mate?”
The owl hooted gratefully, or it seemed grateful to Harry, and then took off toward a decent place to rest. Harry magicked the fallen papers back into a pile on his desk. He’d reorganize them in a week. He wasn’t willing to spare one more moment away from the man he loved.
Then of course, he got waylaid by three different people on the way to the gates and cursed the fact that one couldn’t Disapparate straight out of Hogwarts when the magics were in place. Which they were.
One of the three was MacGonagall, and there was really no avoiding her seeing as how she was his boss. “Potter, I need the new curriculum for your third years before the start of the term.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he called out jovially, edging away impolitely.
“Oh, don’t call me that!” she protested, walking toward him faster than any old lady should be able to. “I mean it about the curriculum, you know,” she said once she’d reached him.
Harry still backed away. “I know. I’ll work it out with Sirius while I’m home. You’ll have it in a few days by owl.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Give Mr. Black my regards.”
Harry smiled from ear to ear. “I will! Tell your new boyfriend I said hello.”
MacGonagall sputtered. “He is NOT my boyfriend.”
Harry knew that to be a blatant lie. The new groundskeeper, Patrick, who she’d been taking tea with was most certainly more than a friend. “Bollocks,” he whispered to her, laughing.
She spat at him, aghast, “Harry Potter!”
He just winked, and he practically jogged in the other direction, waving at her.
He had made it to the courtyard when yet another owl apprehended him. “Bloody HELL,” he seethed through his teeth. But he recognized the owl; it was Hermione’s, and while he was exasperated, he was also relieved to hear from them as his friends had been in the far north dealing with an outbreak of dark magic. Harry ripped open the letter:
“Dear Harry,
We wanted you to know that we’re home and safe and hoping you and Sirius could come out for an evening. We’ve got news. Don’t worry; it’s good.
Love and Miss You,
H&R Granger-Weasley”
Harry smiled. He smiled hugely. He could take a safe stab at the news he figured. They’d been trying for the last year, and Hermione had already gotten permission to get two years of leave from the Ministry of Magic – relief from her Auror duties at least. She’d agreed to still handle her own paperwork from home. Ron would take that London position he’d been offered and deal mostly with urban magic law-breakage, which he preferred due to what he insisted were his allergies.
“Brilliant,” Harry said to himself. He scribbled a nearly illegible note back,
“Would LOVE to see you! Give us three days. We’ll bring the dessert.
Best Always,
S&H”
He affixed his note to the owl and flung it back into the air. Not for the first time he thought about his own desire for children. He watched the bird soar over the gates and recalled his and Sirius’ last conversation about it. Sirius wanted to adopt a passel, all at once. Harry said he was impulsive and crazy. But he’d thought about it, too. One at a time, of course.
They’d lose their privacy – something they each enjoyed more than a little and got precious little of while Harry was teaching. They’d have to expand the house. Sirius was dying to do it anyway. Harry had a terrible time keeping those Muggle tools he’d gotten him for Christmas out of his lover’s hands. All throughout the holiday break, he’d walk into a room and find random boards nailed to the strangest places, of no use at all.
Harry watched the owl turn into a fuzzy dot, and the names they’d tossed around flashed through his mind:
Lily Luna
James Sirius
Albus Severus
Harry wasn’t sure if he was ready. Well, they’d have ample opportunity to talk about it again once they’d seen Ron and Hermione. Harry could almost see the twinkle in Sirius’ eye now. Then he couldn’t wait another moment to get home, so he took off at a sprint for the school gates, looking, he was sure, like a seventh year off to make havoc for the week. It wasn’t all that far off.
Once Harry took one step over the border of the school grounds, he Disapparated.
…
Sirius waited, watching the other man’s face for his reaction. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Bloody…! I’ve never…! You want WHAT?”
Sirius didn’t lose his composure. “Eleven thousand Galleons. I won’t take less for her. She’s my only Ridgeback right now, and I’ve had offers from Hagrid – don’t think I haven’t had offers from Hagrid.”
Sirius was leaned against the corral fence, and Draco stormed off away from him, throwing his hands up in frustration. Two thestrals danced away. Sirius doubted Draco could even see them. After all, his parents had survived the war. Snape had survived it.
Sirius watched him scuffing through the dirt and dust and just waited, twirling his wand between his fingers idly.
Draco turned back and shouted, “That’s highway robbery!”
Sirius cracked a half smile and pushed away from the fence. “He didn’t authorize more than nine five, did he?”
Draco looked ready to Disapparate from anger and shame.
“Come on, Malfoy, I know how he operates.”
“You have no idea,” Draco said, seething.
Sirius laughed. “Why don’t you head inside and floo him, and I’ll wait.” He turned back to the fence only to find Harry leaned there on his elbows watching them. Sirius’ whole body reacted violently, but he breathed it back and simply said, “Well, hello there. Didn’t expect you back so soon.”
Harry lifted his eyebrows, standing at full height. “I got your owl.”
Sirius smiled mischievously. “Did you now?”
“I did.”
Sirius came close, although they were still separated by the corral fence. Sirius put his hands near Harry’s, but he didn’t touch him. He lips were so close he could feel Harry’s breath on them, but he didn’t kiss him. Harry’s gaze dropped to his lips, his own parting, and Sirius could hear that his breath had gone fast and shallow. “It’s good to see you,” Sirius said, enjoying the thrill of the understatement.
“It’s good to see you, too. Is that Malfoy?”
“Don’t you recognize the big blond head?”
“I recognize the pissed-offedness actually.”
“Yeah, my guess is he still hasn’t gotten Snape in the sack,” Sirius chuckled.
“How do you…?” Harry started and Sirius cut him off with an are-you-kidding-me look. Harry rolled his eyes. “They’re both pathetic. I’ve never seen someone play hard to get for so long. We need to get them both drunk.”
“What’s he doing now? Tell me.”
Harry frowned a little. “He looks like he’s fighting an invisible demon with bad breath.”
Sirius snorted.
“Did you name your price?” Harry asked.
“Yep.”
“For Isabelle?”
“Yep.”
Harry grinned at him. “You’re so sexy when you’re haggling. And those jeans...” He sighed heavily.
Sirius winked at him. “Better out of them, though?”
“Absolutely.”
“Soon, then. I’ll be right back.” It took some willpower, but he walked away from Harry and back to a very conflicted Draco. “We’ve got some beautiful Welsh Greens. If that’s all you can afford,” Sirius told him, knowing how insulted he’d be at the suggestion. He wasn’t wrong. Draco cursed, stamping his foot in the dirt.
“Hi, Draco!” Harry called from the fence, waving, looking like a total shit. Sirius rolled his eyes. Draco waved back, but it looked more like an obscene hand gesture than a greeting.
“Ten five,” Draco tried.
“Eleven,” Sirius demanded. “Tell you what, when you’re ready to pay that, you come see me again. Until then, we’re done.” He started to walk away.
He got almost all the way to the gate when Draco called out, “Wait!” Sirius turned to him once more. Draco sighed, “Eleven. I’ll pay eleven.”
“Good chap!” Sirius called. Then he turned back to Harry. “I’ll be ten minutes?”
Harry nodded. He patted one of the thestrals that had wandered over, then he yelled, “Good-bye, Draco, nice seeing you again!” and turned toward the house.
Isabelle took that moment to roar from where she’d been sequestered from the others, boarded temporarily in the Waiting Pasture. This one had taken a particular liking to Harry. If Sirius didn’t know she’d fit in perfectly with Snape’s fleet and finally get to fly as much as she liked, he’d have reconsidered and kept her around.
He hurried through the transaction with Draco, wanting only to get inside. Money changed hands reluctantly, and Sirius smiled. “I’ll let her know where she’s going in the morning. Should be round your place by afternoon.”
“Thank you,” Draco said with a serious pout.
“Chin up, Draco. If Snape doesn’t understand what a great deal he just got, you have him floo me, and I’ll deal with him, all right?”
“Yeah, all right,” Draco groused. He Disapparated, and Sirius reactivated the boundary magics. He left the corral under his own steam, although it was all he could do not to Disapparate to his own house seventy-five feet away.
It was more a cottage really. Terribly small. They’d reserved most of the land for the dragons, and they were both happy with that – for the time being, Harry more than Sirius. As he walked, Sirius suddenly recalled his conversation with Remus so long ago, the one they’d had in the Quidditch stadium in the dead of winter, when he was so hopelessly in love with Harry that he ached to his breaking point. Remus had predicted they’d raise chickens. He guessed rehabilitating dragons wasn’t all that different. Not really.
He smiled. Up ahead was their little house with the red door under the towering pines, up against the hillside. Inside was Harry. Inside was a dodgy stove and too much clutter and a little less dust and a beautiful bedroom in sage green like Harry had wanted. Inside was happiness.
Sirius walked in and heard the shower. “Bless him…” he breathed, kicking his boots off near the door. He stripped the rest of the way on the brief walk to the bathroom, opened the shower door, stepped in with Harry, and pressed him up against the wall under the spray.
“Oh fuck,” Harry breathed, and then Sirius was kissing him, hands everywhere, and Harry’s arms were around him, and before long, Sirius had flipped him, pinned him there, slicked him, and then he’d entered him. He fucked Harry against the shower wall hard, throwing romance and foreplay and all of it out the window.
Harry arched back into it, head dropping down, palms against the tile. Sirius snapped his hips and drove himself inside until he came. Touching Harry’s cock was an afterthought, but a good one. He brought him off in five swift strokes, and Harry moaned helplessly while he climaxed.
They washed off, smiling at one another. “You’re terrible,” Harry said to him.
“That’s right,” Sirius said.
They dried off and dressed in clean clothes. Sirius watched Harry at the sink. He took his necklace off the tree on the countertop and put it back on, the sound of the rings singing like they had in Sirius’ dreams every night since they’d been apart. Sirius finished dressing and hip-checked him on the way out the door. Harry laughed, and the sound went straight to Sirius’ heart.
He insisted on making them dinner.
“But you’ve been out there on your feet all day,” Harry argued, flopping down on the sofa.
“And you’ve been teaching teenagers. You win. I’m only making eggs and squash anyway.” Sirius got out the spatula and flipped it once in the air.
They ate on the sofa not watching the telly. “God, I love your eggs,” Harry moaned. “I’ve missed them.”
“Bollocks. You eat like a king at that school.”
“But I don’t eat with you,” Harry said coyly.
“Oh come off it.”
“I missed you.”
Sirius sighed. “I missed you, too. I bloody hate that school.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No,” Sirius allowed. “I just hate the weeks of you being away. I’m glad you’re not an Auror out there risking your beautiful arse on a daily basis, I must admit.”
“Plus, better to make five hundred Aurors than be one myself,” Harry said.
“Mmm,” Sirius grunted. “But there’s no one like you, Harry. No one can do what you do.” It ached to look at him, his lover, the most powerful wizard in the world. It had been far too long without him, and Sirius had half a mind to pull Harry down underneath him on the sofa and have another go.
“And now that the war’s over, no one needs to,” Harry reminded him.
Sirius just looked at him for a moment – the angle of his jaw, the glasses slipping down his nose, lips he could kiss for days and intended to. “I adore you,” he said.
Harry blushed. He could still make Harry blush.
They decided not to do the dishes till morning. Sirius had just dumped the plates into the sink when Harry took his hand and started to draw Sirius off toward the bedroom. Harry let go of his hand and took him by the hips instead, his soft gaze suggestive.
“It’s still light out,” Sirius protested, getting hard.
“Mmm…” Harry grunted, and then he pulled Sirius into a hot, slow kiss.
Inside that kiss was his life. Inside that kiss was Sirius’ salvation.
They stumbled into the bedroom and shut the door.
THE END
Back to Masterpost: On DW | On LJ
Author:
traintracks777 / traintracksPart Five: On DW | On LJ
“Don’t lose those Patronuses over the break!” Harry called after his last Defense against the Dark Arts class of the day. Half were already out the door, ready for Spring Break and visits home and whatever it was students who weren’t preparing for a war did during Spring Breaks nowadays. Apparate to San Diego to surf?
He was packing up his own things when three of his star pupils – of course it would be them – approached his desk. “Professor Potter, sir?”
“Yes, Ms. Granger.”
Penelope Granger was Hermione’s little cousin and every bit as bookish as Hermione had been. She also happened to be a talented Beater, big for her age, shy, and cursed with the Granger head of hair. Harry tried not to play favorites, but it was difficult when here was a student who was top of her class, one of the best Quidditch players to take the field in the last decade, and still she was unpopular and made fun of, just for a little baby fat and three extra vertical inches.
“Jason, Michael, and I were wondering what we could work on over the break,” she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. Jason and Michael, her two closest friends, flanked her and silently waited for instruction.
“Well,” Harry began, crossing his arms. “You could work on your dueling. Or you could start on those advanced fire spells we’re going to be getting to next term.” They were all nodding. Penelope was taking fast notes. “Or you could relax and enjoy some time off,” Harry said pointedly.
They stared at him, crestfallen. He bit back a laugh and simply smiled instead. “It’s only a week. Go have some fun, will you? What do you do for fun?”
Penelope bit her lip. “Write my own comic books?”
“Good!” he replied. “Jason?”
“I, uh, collect bugs.”
“Okay,” Harry answered with slightly less enthusiasm. “Michael?”
Michael just shrugged.
“Well, you work on that,” Harry told him. “Please. All of you. You’re the most talented kids in my class.” They all beamed, blushing. “The wars are over. Just take some time to do the things you like and be with the people you love. Okay?”
“Yes, Professor Potter,” they all recited morosely. It was the same tone any of the others would have used had he given them detention. Merlin’s Beard.
“Now, go on and get packed. You don’t want to miss the farewell lunch before the train.”
They filed out of his room, and Harry couldn’t get his things together fast enough. And his haste had nothing to do with the lunch.
Sixteen weeks. He hadn’t been home for sixteen weeks. What was that – four months? Ridiculous was what it was. And Harry didn’t count the time they’d met up in Hogsmeade and gotten a room for the night, either. One night with Sirius was not and would never be enough to keep Harry satisfied. Not for sixteen bloody weeks!
Harry was just about to sling his pack over his shoulder and bolt out of the room when a spectacularly old owl came barrel-turning into the room, skidding across his desk and sending papers everywhere. “Blimey, Wilson!” Harry scolded, though when the bird eyed him with what looked like genuine owl chagrin, Harry softened his tone. “What have you then, boy?” He took the note from the poor, bedraggled creature and read:
“If you don’t come straight home, you’re getting the whip once you do.
Your Loving,
Sirius”
Harry smiled to himself. To be honest, he blushed. He pet the owl’s head almost absently. Then he looked right in its eyes. “You did good, Wilson.” The bird ruffled his feathers. “Why don’t you take a couple nights off in the Owlrey and keep Hedwig company, then you can both fly back home once you’re rested, how does that sound, mate?”
The owl hooted gratefully, or it seemed grateful to Harry, and then took off toward a decent place to rest. Harry magicked the fallen papers back into a pile on his desk. He’d reorganize them in a week. He wasn’t willing to spare one more moment away from the man he loved.
Then of course, he got waylaid by three different people on the way to the gates and cursed the fact that one couldn’t Disapparate straight out of Hogwarts when the magics were in place. Which they were.
One of the three was MacGonagall, and there was really no avoiding her seeing as how she was his boss. “Potter, I need the new curriculum for your third years before the start of the term.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he called out jovially, edging away impolitely.
“Oh, don’t call me that!” she protested, walking toward him faster than any old lady should be able to. “I mean it about the curriculum, you know,” she said once she’d reached him.
Harry still backed away. “I know. I’ll work it out with Sirius while I’m home. You’ll have it in a few days by owl.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Give Mr. Black my regards.”
Harry smiled from ear to ear. “I will! Tell your new boyfriend I said hello.”
MacGonagall sputtered. “He is NOT my boyfriend.”
Harry knew that to be a blatant lie. The new groundskeeper, Patrick, who she’d been taking tea with was most certainly more than a friend. “Bollocks,” he whispered to her, laughing.
She spat at him, aghast, “Harry Potter!”
He just winked, and he practically jogged in the other direction, waving at her.
He had made it to the courtyard when yet another owl apprehended him. “Bloody HELL,” he seethed through his teeth. But he recognized the owl; it was Hermione’s, and while he was exasperated, he was also relieved to hear from them as his friends had been in the far north dealing with an outbreak of dark magic. Harry ripped open the letter:
“Dear Harry,
We wanted you to know that we’re home and safe and hoping you and Sirius could come out for an evening. We’ve got news. Don’t worry; it’s good.
Love and Miss You,
H&R Granger-Weasley”
Harry smiled. He smiled hugely. He could take a safe stab at the news he figured. They’d been trying for the last year, and Hermione had already gotten permission to get two years of leave from the Ministry of Magic – relief from her Auror duties at least. She’d agreed to still handle her own paperwork from home. Ron would take that London position he’d been offered and deal mostly with urban magic law-breakage, which he preferred due to what he insisted were his allergies.
“Brilliant,” Harry said to himself. He scribbled a nearly illegible note back,
“Would LOVE to see you! Give us three days. We’ll bring the dessert.
Best Always,
S&H”
He affixed his note to the owl and flung it back into the air. Not for the first time he thought about his own desire for children. He watched the bird soar over the gates and recalled his and Sirius’ last conversation about it. Sirius wanted to adopt a passel, all at once. Harry said he was impulsive and crazy. But he’d thought about it, too. One at a time, of course.
They’d lose their privacy – something they each enjoyed more than a little and got precious little of while Harry was teaching. They’d have to expand the house. Sirius was dying to do it anyway. Harry had a terrible time keeping those Muggle tools he’d gotten him for Christmas out of his lover’s hands. All throughout the holiday break, he’d walk into a room and find random boards nailed to the strangest places, of no use at all.
Harry watched the owl turn into a fuzzy dot, and the names they’d tossed around flashed through his mind:
Lily Luna
James Sirius
Albus Severus
Harry wasn’t sure if he was ready. Well, they’d have ample opportunity to talk about it again once they’d seen Ron and Hermione. Harry could almost see the twinkle in Sirius’ eye now. Then he couldn’t wait another moment to get home, so he took off at a sprint for the school gates, looking, he was sure, like a seventh year off to make havoc for the week. It wasn’t all that far off.
Once Harry took one step over the border of the school grounds, he Disapparated.
…
Sirius waited, watching the other man’s face for his reaction. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Bloody…! I’ve never…! You want WHAT?”
Sirius didn’t lose his composure. “Eleven thousand Galleons. I won’t take less for her. She’s my only Ridgeback right now, and I’ve had offers from Hagrid – don’t think I haven’t had offers from Hagrid.”
Sirius was leaned against the corral fence, and Draco stormed off away from him, throwing his hands up in frustration. Two thestrals danced away. Sirius doubted Draco could even see them. After all, his parents had survived the war. Snape had survived it.
Sirius watched him scuffing through the dirt and dust and just waited, twirling his wand between his fingers idly.
Draco turned back and shouted, “That’s highway robbery!”
Sirius cracked a half smile and pushed away from the fence. “He didn’t authorize more than nine five, did he?”
Draco looked ready to Disapparate from anger and shame.
“Come on, Malfoy, I know how he operates.”
“You have no idea,” Draco said, seething.
Sirius laughed. “Why don’t you head inside and floo him, and I’ll wait.” He turned back to the fence only to find Harry leaned there on his elbows watching them. Sirius’ whole body reacted violently, but he breathed it back and simply said, “Well, hello there. Didn’t expect you back so soon.”
Harry lifted his eyebrows, standing at full height. “I got your owl.”
Sirius smiled mischievously. “Did you now?”
“I did.”
Sirius came close, although they were still separated by the corral fence. Sirius put his hands near Harry’s, but he didn’t touch him. He lips were so close he could feel Harry’s breath on them, but he didn’t kiss him. Harry’s gaze dropped to his lips, his own parting, and Sirius could hear that his breath had gone fast and shallow. “It’s good to see you,” Sirius said, enjoying the thrill of the understatement.
“It’s good to see you, too. Is that Malfoy?”
“Don’t you recognize the big blond head?”
“I recognize the pissed-offedness actually.”
“Yeah, my guess is he still hasn’t gotten Snape in the sack,” Sirius chuckled.
“How do you…?” Harry started and Sirius cut him off with an are-you-kidding-me look. Harry rolled his eyes. “They’re both pathetic. I’ve never seen someone play hard to get for so long. We need to get them both drunk.”
“What’s he doing now? Tell me.”
Harry frowned a little. “He looks like he’s fighting an invisible demon with bad breath.”
Sirius snorted.
“Did you name your price?” Harry asked.
“Yep.”
“For Isabelle?”
“Yep.”
Harry grinned at him. “You’re so sexy when you’re haggling. And those jeans...” He sighed heavily.
Sirius winked at him. “Better out of them, though?”
“Absolutely.”
“Soon, then. I’ll be right back.” It took some willpower, but he walked away from Harry and back to a very conflicted Draco. “We’ve got some beautiful Welsh Greens. If that’s all you can afford,” Sirius told him, knowing how insulted he’d be at the suggestion. He wasn’t wrong. Draco cursed, stamping his foot in the dirt.
“Hi, Draco!” Harry called from the fence, waving, looking like a total shit. Sirius rolled his eyes. Draco waved back, but it looked more like an obscene hand gesture than a greeting.
“Ten five,” Draco tried.
“Eleven,” Sirius demanded. “Tell you what, when you’re ready to pay that, you come see me again. Until then, we’re done.” He started to walk away.
He got almost all the way to the gate when Draco called out, “Wait!” Sirius turned to him once more. Draco sighed, “Eleven. I’ll pay eleven.”
“Good chap!” Sirius called. Then he turned back to Harry. “I’ll be ten minutes?”
Harry nodded. He patted one of the thestrals that had wandered over, then he yelled, “Good-bye, Draco, nice seeing you again!” and turned toward the house.
Isabelle took that moment to roar from where she’d been sequestered from the others, boarded temporarily in the Waiting Pasture. This one had taken a particular liking to Harry. If Sirius didn’t know she’d fit in perfectly with Snape’s fleet and finally get to fly as much as she liked, he’d have reconsidered and kept her around.
He hurried through the transaction with Draco, wanting only to get inside. Money changed hands reluctantly, and Sirius smiled. “I’ll let her know where she’s going in the morning. Should be round your place by afternoon.”
“Thank you,” Draco said with a serious pout.
“Chin up, Draco. If Snape doesn’t understand what a great deal he just got, you have him floo me, and I’ll deal with him, all right?”
“Yeah, all right,” Draco groused. He Disapparated, and Sirius reactivated the boundary magics. He left the corral under his own steam, although it was all he could do not to Disapparate to his own house seventy-five feet away.
It was more a cottage really. Terribly small. They’d reserved most of the land for the dragons, and they were both happy with that – for the time being, Harry more than Sirius. As he walked, Sirius suddenly recalled his conversation with Remus so long ago, the one they’d had in the Quidditch stadium in the dead of winter, when he was so hopelessly in love with Harry that he ached to his breaking point. Remus had predicted they’d raise chickens. He guessed rehabilitating dragons wasn’t all that different. Not really.
He smiled. Up ahead was their little house with the red door under the towering pines, up against the hillside. Inside was Harry. Inside was a dodgy stove and too much clutter and a little less dust and a beautiful bedroom in sage green like Harry had wanted. Inside was happiness.
Sirius walked in and heard the shower. “Bless him…” he breathed, kicking his boots off near the door. He stripped the rest of the way on the brief walk to the bathroom, opened the shower door, stepped in with Harry, and pressed him up against the wall under the spray.
“Oh fuck,” Harry breathed, and then Sirius was kissing him, hands everywhere, and Harry’s arms were around him, and before long, Sirius had flipped him, pinned him there, slicked him, and then he’d entered him. He fucked Harry against the shower wall hard, throwing romance and foreplay and all of it out the window.
Harry arched back into it, head dropping down, palms against the tile. Sirius snapped his hips and drove himself inside until he came. Touching Harry’s cock was an afterthought, but a good one. He brought him off in five swift strokes, and Harry moaned helplessly while he climaxed.
They washed off, smiling at one another. “You’re terrible,” Harry said to him.
“That’s right,” Sirius said.
They dried off and dressed in clean clothes. Sirius watched Harry at the sink. He took his necklace off the tree on the countertop and put it back on, the sound of the rings singing like they had in Sirius’ dreams every night since they’d been apart. Sirius finished dressing and hip-checked him on the way out the door. Harry laughed, and the sound went straight to Sirius’ heart.
He insisted on making them dinner.
“But you’ve been out there on your feet all day,” Harry argued, flopping down on the sofa.
“And you’ve been teaching teenagers. You win. I’m only making eggs and squash anyway.” Sirius got out the spatula and flipped it once in the air.
They ate on the sofa not watching the telly. “God, I love your eggs,” Harry moaned. “I’ve missed them.”
“Bollocks. You eat like a king at that school.”
“But I don’t eat with you,” Harry said coyly.
“Oh come off it.”
“I missed you.”
Sirius sighed. “I missed you, too. I bloody hate that school.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No,” Sirius allowed. “I just hate the weeks of you being away. I’m glad you’re not an Auror out there risking your beautiful arse on a daily basis, I must admit.”
“Plus, better to make five hundred Aurors than be one myself,” Harry said.
“Mmm,” Sirius grunted. “But there’s no one like you, Harry. No one can do what you do.” It ached to look at him, his lover, the most powerful wizard in the world. It had been far too long without him, and Sirius had half a mind to pull Harry down underneath him on the sofa and have another go.
“And now that the war’s over, no one needs to,” Harry reminded him.
Sirius just looked at him for a moment – the angle of his jaw, the glasses slipping down his nose, lips he could kiss for days and intended to. “I adore you,” he said.
Harry blushed. He could still make Harry blush.
They decided not to do the dishes till morning. Sirius had just dumped the plates into the sink when Harry took his hand and started to draw Sirius off toward the bedroom. Harry let go of his hand and took him by the hips instead, his soft gaze suggestive.
“It’s still light out,” Sirius protested, getting hard.
“Mmm…” Harry grunted, and then he pulled Sirius into a hot, slow kiss.
Inside that kiss was his life. Inside that kiss was Sirius’ salvation.
They stumbled into the bedroom and shut the door.
Back to Masterpost: On DW | On LJ
