Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Although if J.K. Rowling wants to put Sirius up on the auction block I will gladly buy.

A/N: This is Harry/ Sirius Pre-Slash. So if that is not your cup of tea don't read! Reviews always appreciated.


Lather, Rinse, and Repeat.

It was the middle of Harry Potter's seventh year at Hogwarts. To take a current perspective and look back on how things have changed it is almost mind-boggling. Just a few short months ago Voldemort was still reigning over the Wizarding World and people lived in constant fear for their lives and the lives of their friends and family.

But that was then.

Harry had actually managed to defeat Voldemort three months ago-two weeks before Christmas. Now, Harry could safely say it was the most wonderful feeling in the world to be free of that burden. Not only him, but also the entire Wizarding World had come to life. Harry often wondered if this is what it was like before Voldemort even came to power. There were no fears or questions hanging over anyone's head anymore, and while there was still recovery, it was a carefree recovery-all thanks to Harry Potter.

And if one thing was completely certain, it was that the Wizarding World loved Harry Potter.

But who wouldn't? He was young, available, rather good-looking, powerful, had a vault full of galleons, and was just an all around wonderful wizard and guy. Not to mention he had saved them all from complete and total destruction on numerous occasions.

Now, Harry was aware that the Wizarding World was had a slight fixation when it came to him. But, still being in the confines of the Hogwarts walls and not out in the actual Wizarding World he still believed that it was just some passing thing-not the insane obsession it actually was.

Thus, Harry Potter started his day, sneaking down to Hogsmeade to meet his godfather and good friend, Sirius Black, at Three Broomsticks, and blissfully unaware of the girls in the second year dorm giggling over a picture of him sold to them by Colin Creevy-- who had managed to start a very lucrative photography business within the school just based on the photographs of Harry he had taken over the years.

Harry arrived in the village a little under an hour later. He was a couple of minutes late, but luckily Sirius was ALWAYS late, so he would probably still beat him there.

He entered the pub, pleased with himself for his undetected lateness. He was always yelling at Sirius for his complete and total aversion from anything punctual, and it would not do at all for Sirius to catch him in such a position.

"Well, well, the King of Punctuality is late."


Harry turned around to see a very amused Sirius Black, staring at him with his eyebrow raised. Harry offered up his best innocent smile and puppy dog face in hopes of getting off easy. "Hey Siri."

Sirius laughed despite himself and plopped down next to Harry. "Ugh, get that look off your face Harry. I want to be able to properly make fun of you for being late when I was actually early."

Harry quickly stuck out his tongue. "You should be early, all you have to do is apparate here. I have to walk that annoying path all the way to Honeydukes and then manage to sneak through the store undetected while still managing to make it here on time. I have an excuse."

Sirius just shook his head and threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine. You win. I don't think I could actually come up with a reasonable argument to defend myself since I know I'm always late."

Just then Madame Rosmerta came over to their table and gave a bright smile. "Well, hello there boys."

Sirius gave a charming smile in her direction. "Good afternoon Rosie."

She smiled back. "Hello Sirius. Hey Harry, I didn't know it was a Hogsmeade weekend?"

Harry gave a mischievous grin and motioned for Rosmerta to come closer. Then in a mock conspiratorial tone he whispered, "That's because it's not a Hogsmeade weekend."

Rosmerta laughed. "Honestly, I will never figure out how you do it. You used to randomly pop up around here as a boy too Sirius, when I knew damn well it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend! I would attribute it to some personal secret you passed along to young Harry here if Fred and George Weasley didn't constantly show up in here in the middle of the week also!"

Sirius grinned. "Now, now Rosie. Isn't it obvious? We were all just so special that we received special Hogsmeade privileges. How you could think anything sinister is afoot is beyond me."

Rosmerta rolled her eyes. "Can it Sirius. I don't know what trick you two have but I am sure I will see your children miraculously popping up here too, and other relatives for years to come. So, what can I get you boys today?"

Harry thought about it for a while. "I'll have a butterbeer actually. There's still a bit of a nip outside and it seems like it would hit the spot about now."

Sirius nodded. "Make that two."

Rosmerta nodded and walked away. Sirius turned to Harry, mischief now completely dancing in his eyes. "Do you think they'll ever figure it out?"

Harry winked. "I hope not. So what's up that caused you to call for this little rendezvous?"

Sirius put on a fake face of pain. "What makes you think something has to be up for me to see you?"

Harry eyed him warily. "Nothing. But that little performance does."

Sirius dropped the face and smiled. "Really, nothing. I just haven't seen you in a while and I missed you."

Luckily, Harry was still flushed enough from the cold outside that the blush on his cheeks was barely noticeable. "Good, I'm glad. I miss you too, Siri."

Both were so wrapped in smiling at one another and gazing into each other's eyes, that neither noticed the owl carrying a large parcel until it smacked right into Harry's head.

Harry was shaken out of his reverie and began to rub his head where the owl just collided with it.

Sirius bent down and picked up the owl, then began to massage Harry's head. "Are you okay?"

Harry scrunched up his face in annoyance. "Yes. Crazed fucking owl. I am going to kill whoever sent me this package."

At that moment Rosmerta returned with two butterbeers and a shocked expression on her face. "What was that?"

Sirius's face darkened as he continued to massage Harry's head. "Some psychotic owl just rammed into him with a letter and a big envelope."

Rosmerta just shook her head. "Good owls are getting really hard to find these days. Do you know that is actually the third time this week some owl has run into one of my customers while trying to deliver a package? Do you want some ice Harry?"

"No, that's okay, I'll be fine. Thanks Rosmerta."

Sirius eyed Harry with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes Sirius, it was an owl-- a big, fluffy, feathery mass. Not a bludger. If it wasn't for it's beak that rammed into me it would've felt like getting a pillow chucked at me."

Harry took a sip of his butterbeer and motioned for Sirius to hand him the package. "Now, let me at least see what asshole sent this to me so I can yell at them for their choice of owl."

Sirius handed Harry the package, who looked at it with confusion. "Witch Weekly Magazine? What do they want?"

Sirius snorted. "Probably an interview so all the girls and women of the Wizarding World can read it and swoon while their sales skyrocket. Read the letter."

Harry pulled the letter off of the larger package and ripped open the envelope.

Dear Mr. Potter:

We here at Witch Weekly magazine have always considered ourselves to be at the forefront of information and interests for witches all over the globe. We also have always considered ourselves to be a respectable magazine.

However, recent items have come into our possession that it was just impossible for us here at the Witch Weekly staff to ignore. While we are respectable, our primary interest has always been to cater to the tastes of witches everywhere and make the best magazine week after week that are based around the interests of our readers. Therefore, for the sake of our readers, we felt the choice we made (the result of which is contained within the pre-released magazine we have shipped to you). . .

"Well," Harry sighed, "at least I know what's in the package."

. . .is the best choice for us and all of our readers. We thank you for your time and wish that you direct any complaints you may have to our main office in Diagon Alley. . .

Sirius scrunched up his face in confusion. "Complaints?"

. . .Thank you for your time and cooperation. Believe me when I tell you this current issue has most definitely been our pleasure.

Yours Truly, Emmany Rickenwood

Owner of Witch Weekly Magazine

Harry eyed the package on the table dubiously. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

Sirius looked at the package with equal suspicious. "Maybe for the same reason I have a bad feeling about this?"

Harry warily picked up the package and ripped it open to reveal next week's edition of Witch Weekly Magazine, which should hit newsstands tomorrow.

Harry ran his hand over the cover, "Well, it looks normal enough."

Then he spotted it across the top of the magazine:


Harry gulped as he began to flip through the pages. Sirius moved closer, curious as to what secret the magazine held.






Harry's eyes grew wide, he felt his blood begin to boil, and he was quite sure a little vein over his eyes was popping out and throbbing. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?"

Sirius just sat there with his mouth agape.

Random objects began to shake and break as Harry turned redder and redder by the second in embarrassment and anger. "I WILL KILL WHOEVER IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS! WHEN I AM DONE WITH THEM, WHAT I DID TO VOLDEMORT WILL SEEM LIKE FIRST YEAR'S CHILD'S PLAY!!!"

At Harry's outburst the whole entire pub turned to look on interestedly, at the mention of Voldemort's name everyone collectively flinched, but moved their chairs closer to see what was going on. Harry was causing quite the scene-Sirius took notice of this and snapped out of his stupor to get him under control.

"Harry," he hissed, "calm down! Everyone is looking at you."


At Harry's enraged announcement every witch and most wizards in the pub squealed in delight and practically dove at Harry's table to get a peek. Sirius quickly snatched up the magazine, folded it up, and stuffed it in his robes. "BACK OFF!"

Harry was still shaking, but seemed to have calmed down once he realized that he had announced to the whole pub that he was appearing naked in Witch Weekly. Sirius got up and walked behind Harry, gently massaging his shoulders. "Calm down Harry, please?"

Harry relaxed a little into Sirius's touch but was still radiating anger. "Can we just leave, Sirius?"

Sirius nodded his head and practically had to push past the rabid crowd of people blocking their exit from the pub. They snuck through Honeydukes and walked the rest of the way back to Hogwarts in complete silence. Occasionally, Sirius would hear Harry mutter something about 'death' or 'revenge' but other than that no words were said between the two of them. Finally they reached the one-eyed witch and Harry turned to look at Sirius.

"Please come back in with me. I need to think of something to do. Please?"

Sirius nodded his agreement and they both snuck off into the nearest empty classroom.

Harry had sufficiently calmed down in the time it took to reach Hogwarts and now sunk dejectedly into a chair. "How can this happen Sirius?"

Sirius pulled out the magazine and quickly flipped through it. "Well, it seems like somebody had a field day with their camera while you were in the Quidditch locker rooms, taking a shower. They probably sold the pictures to Witch Weekly for a nice stack of gold."

Harry threw a book up against the wall. "I cannot believe this Sirius. Half the school probably subscribes to Witch Weekly! By lunchtime tomorrow everyone won't be guessing about what's under my robes anymore. Ugh! Even Snape will know what I look like naked!"

Sirius shuddered at that thought and began to ponder something. "What if we intercept everyone's copy of Witch Weekly before it is delivered to them? We can run a survey or something tonight of everyone who subscribes to the magazine, explain the situation to Dumbledore, and get all the copies before they are delivered. That way at least nobody in the school will have a copy. Well. . .yet."

Harry ran across the room and flung himself into Sirius's arms. "Oh Siri, that's brilliant!" He gave Sirius a quick kiss on the cheek and ran for the door. "Stay right here! I'll be back, I'm just going to explain everything to Dumbledore."


Sirius organized the stack of papers and placed them down on the table.

Harry looked up eagerly. "Well?"

Sirius sighed. "Exactly 200 students here receive Witch Weekly."

Harry's eyes grew wide, "200?"

Sirius nodded. "Yep. Well. . .at least it's not half the school. Still, we're going to have our work cut out for us tomorrow."


"Of course sweetheart. You didn't think I was going to actually leave you to do this by yourself did you?"

Harry smiled and sat down next to Sirius. Not for the first time he thanked Merlin that the Head Boy had their own room. "Thanks, Siri, really. You don't have to stay here and help me."

Sirius scooted closer. "Yeah, but I want to. I'm not too keen on the whole school knowing what you look like naked either."

Harry sighed and leaned against Sirius. "How did this happen? I can't believe someone would actually do this. Well, yes I can believe it, but it still sucks."

Sirius began to rub Harry's back soothingly. "Do you have any idea who did it?"

Harry just shook his head.

"What about that annoying kid that is constantly following you around with a camera?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You mean Colin? No, I don't think so. Just because he is always following me around doesn't mean he snuck into the showers of the Quidditch Locker Room and snapped some pictures. That could've been anyone. Plus, something tells me if Colin had naked pictures of me he would probably either combust or add them to his shrine. . .not sell them. So is everything set up?"

Sirius nodded his head in confirmation. "Yeah. Any owls carrying Witch Weekly will be diverted to this room by the charm Dumbledore cast. Then we just collect the magazines and send them on their way. What are you going to do with 200 issues of Witch Weekly?"

Harry suddenly tensed up. "Burn them. Then send all the ashes to Witch Weekly magazine in a parcel that is charmed so it opens all over Emmany Rickenwood. Then a nice little letter about how I am going to bring forth the wrath of God and ruin them." Harry nodded his head. "Yes, that seems about right."

Harry heard Sirius chuckle softly and moments later felt him slump against him. Harry sighed and laid himself down with Sirius so he could comfortably fall asleep.

They were awoken at 8:30 that morning by a barrage of parcels and magazines falling all over them. Feathers were flying everywhere and owls were squawking as more than were physically possible tried to fit through the small window.

Harry shot up as another owl somehow managed to ram him in the face. "FUCKING WITCH WEEKLY OWLS!"

This managed to get Sirius awake as he too shot up and was almost taken out by an owl. "What? What happened?"

Harry rubbed his face for the second time in two days. "Another one of those psychotic owls fucking rammed me in the face."

Sirius looked confused, and then ducked an incoming owl. "While you were lying down?"

Harry nodded.

Sirius laughed and moved to grab Harry's hand off his face. "Let me see."

This one seemed to draw blood with its beak, and Sirius furrowed his brow while trying to figure out a way to get across the room to the bathroom without being nearly decapitated. Finally he settled on grabbing a nearby blanket and dipping it in a glass of water. "Come here."

Sirius cleaned off Harry's face and swatted away owls, feathers, and parcels. "Dumbledore has to have spells to prevent this from happening during breakfast."

Harry glared into the air. "When I take out Witch Weekly all of these owls are going down with it."

Finally the last owl came in and dropped off the 200th copy of Witch Weekly Magazine.

Harry looked around his room. "Ugh, look at all these feathers!"

Sirius pointed his wand at a feather. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Harry watched as a single feather floated into midair and sarcastically clapped his hands. "Brilliant Sirius. There must be 500 feathers in my room and you have managed to get one to float in midair."

Sirius grinned. "Duck, watch, and learn." He pulled Harry down and pointed his wand at the lone feather and shouted out another spell, "Attraherio Simulius!"

Harry then watched as all the feathers in the room flew into the air to meet the one lone floating feather, creating a gigantic feather ball. With a final cry of, "Evanescio!", the feathers all disappeared.

Harry grinned and looked over at Sirius, "Nice."

Sirius winked, "Why thank you my dear. Now how about we count these magazines up then proceed to burn them?"

Harry transfigured four random things into crates to throw all the magazines in. "Okay, we can put 50 in each crate and then burn the crates in a some kind of bonfire."

Sirius nodded his approval. "Okay, I'll take half and you take half."

Harry grinned at Sirius. "Duck." He pointed his wand at one of the magazines and shouted out the same spell Sirius used to collect the feathers. All the magazines came flying at them, creating a big pile where the original magazine lay, in the center of the room.

Sirius laughed. "Oh, faster learner, aren't we?"

Harry glared. "Get down on the floor and count."

The two of them sat there for a good half hour counting magazines, 50 in each crate.

Sirius fell back against the floor. "Ready to burn them?"

Harry was about to answer yes, but his stomach growled in disagreement. "Eat and then burn?"

Sirius jumped up off the floor. "Sounds good to me."

They both went down to the kitchens, leaving the 4 crates for the not-so- distant future.


Harry and Sirius stumbled back up the stairs, laughing and full. Harry stopped at his portrait and muttered, "Witch Weekly Sucks." The portrait swung open.

"Okay, collect the crates and we'll drag them somewhere outside and burn them. Maybe behind Hagrid's cabin. Nobody would think twice about a bunch of smoke rising up from behind there."

But Sirius was frozen to the spot, unblinking. "Um, Harry?"

"Yeah Siri?"

Sirius closed his eyes finally, and gulped. "Where's the fourth crate?"

Harry motioned to the crates and pointed. "Right there. One, two, three. . . "

But there was no four. Harry ran into the room and jumped up on the couch so he could see all over the room. Nothing. For the second time in two days Harry lost control. Random objects began to shake and glass exploded in corners of the room. Finally, he picked up a pillow and chucked it at the portrait hole. "SHIT!"

Sirius fell back into a chair and put his head in his hands. "Fuck."

Harry began to pace the room, turning redder then he was yesterday. "So now, not only has somebody taken pictures of me naked and sold them to Witch Weekly. . .this same person has presumably broken into my room, stole 50 of the magazines, and WILL PROBABLY REDISTRIBUTE THEM TO THE SCHOOL FOR PROFIT!"

Sirius got up and pulled Harry down on the couch with him. He got behind Harry and began to massage his back. "Well," he whispered, "we tried. As much as we hate to admit it there still would have been countless copies out on the street anyway."

Harry nodded, leaned back into Sirius's hands and moaned. "Mmm, thanks, I need this Siri. These past 24 hours have been hell and so far it is only 10 am."

"Harry? Harry, are you in there?"

Ron and Hermione entered Harry's room and blushed upon finding him with Sirius's hands running up and down his now bare back.

Hermione looked down, "Um, hey Sirius. Sorry guys."

Sirius quickly removed his hands and pulled down Harry's shirt, turning redder then Hermione. "Hey Hermione, Ron. It's okay, come on in."

Harry scooted out from in front of Sirius to move next to him. "So why are you guys up so early?"

Hermione gave a snort of disgust. "Lavender and Parvati were whining because Witch Weekly didn't arrive with the rest of their mail." At the mention of Witch Weekly a lamp in the corner began to shake and Sirius began to rub Harry's back again before it broke.

"Fuck Witch Weekly." The Harry suddenly turned to Sirius. "You know, this isn't going to stop me. I will make them pay."

Sirius's face darkened as well. "Don't worry. I'll help you there."

Ron and Hermione shared a confused look with each other. "Um, Harry, mate? What's going on?"

Harry sighed. "How about I join you two for breakfast and explain the past 24 hours of my life to you?"

Ron and Hermione looked worried but nodded their heads. Harry turned to Sirius, this time calm again. "Are you going home?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, I'll walk down to the front gate and apparate over to Hogsmeade. Maybe I'll even buy out their supply of Witch Weekly."

Harry shook his head. "Don't bother. It'll still spread like the plague everywhere else."

Sirius looked at him concerned. "Are you going to be okay?"

Harry offered up his best smile. "Peachy." Noticing Sirius was eyeing him skeptically still, he sighed and dropped the fake pleasant demeanor. "Yes, I'll be fine. I guess I'll have to deal with it, right?" He leaned over and gave Sirius a peck on the cheek while Hermione blushed further. "I'll write you later Siri. Thanks."

Sirius smiled. "No problem. Bye guys." With that he left the room and made his way off the grounds.

Harry sat down. "So, the reason that nobody in this school was delivered Witch Weekly was because Sirius and I intercepted all the copies."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other more confused than before since they had no idea why Harry or Sirius would ever intercept copies of Witch Weekly and had naturally assumed Sirius was here for reasons other than that based on their position when they walked in. Then, simultaneously they looked at Harry and voiced their identical thoughts. "You two did what?"

Harry motioned for the chair. "Please, have some tea and sit."


Draco Malfoy sat on his bed. He could've started cackling maniacally he was so happy and felt so utterly evil. Well not evil, but hell, he had more then surpassed his bastard quota for the year.

Yes, yes, yes. This was perfect. He would resell them to those blubbering, Potter-loving idiots. He didn't really need the money of course. By why not profit while spreading Potter's shame throughout the school?

Taking those photos had been the best idea he ever had.






Shit, where was 50? He could've sworn he heard Potter's idiot-of-a- godfather-slash-wannabe-love-slave say they were putting 50 in each crate. Oh well, what was one less? These 49 copies alone would get passed around the school ensuring everyone knew what Potter looked like under his robes. Even those whiny little first years would get a peak. Probably come on the spot too.

Draco leaned back against the headboard of his bed and sighed. Yes, life right now was good.


Sirius threw some stuff on his table, took off his cloak and robes, changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt then plopped down on his couch.

He would get the bastard who did this to Harry.

He, for once, had been the voice of reason, but he was just as mad as Harry was over this whole entire situation. He knew by the end of the week, every wizard would have had a peek of what should've been for certain eyes only.

Sirius was not too pleased that the entire wizarding world would know what his Harry looked like naked.

Not to mention that Harry was completely and totally furious. Especially now that the crate of 50 magazines was Merlin knows where, ready to be sent to all of Hogwarts.

Well, Sirius reasoned, it could also be a crate of 49.

If there was one good thing that came out of that crate getting stolen, it was that there was no way for Harry to recount those magazines and find out he was the proud owner of 199 copies of Witch Weekly. He did not want to explain the missing magazine.

Sirius reached over to the table and ran his hand over the top of the cover where it advertised the photos. It's a good thing Harry didn't catch him stuffing it in his robes.

He did feel bad about it, and knew Harry just wanted them destroyed, but he wasn't going to NOT have one. He also couldn't very well go and buy it. So, that left him with one option-and Harry couldn't ever find out.

Well, maybe one day he could. There could be a time when Sirius would be able to tell Harry jokingly about how he had stolen one of those copies of Witch Weekly for himself, and Harry would laugh and kindly inform him that he didn't need a stupid old magazine if he wanted to see him naked.

But for now Sirius would just have to be content, laying back on his couch and flipping and reflipping through the five pages, watching his favorite new process.

Lather, rinse, and repeat.