While reading OotP, I couldn't help but want Harry to talk to Sirius about why he was ignoring him after the hearing so I came up with this sugary sweet little story to satisfy myself. Hopefully some of you had the same problem and will thus be a little satiated by this.

Title: Confrontation

Author: C'est moi, Jeni V

Rating: Like G...or K+, I think it is.

Pairing: none; this is just a godfather/godson affection )

Summary: After the hearing, Harry wants to know why Sirius is shutting himself up in his mother's room. After all, Hermione wasn't right, was she?

Disclaimer: Harry and Sirius belong to J.K. Rowling, as well as Grimmauld Place and whatever other characters I used in here. I just choose to use them as I please.

A few days after Harry Potter had won the hearing for being underage and using magic, he found himself sitting on a windowsill feeling worse than he had before. Sirius still wasn't talking to him (or anyone else for that matter) and it was beginning to drive him up the wall.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Hermione had said, "he'll get over it eventually." Harry scoffed to himself as he watched rain splatter loudly against the window. He thought Sirius was being way too immature to be ignoring him like this. He was his godfather! Couldn't he act more…godfather-ly? Sirius was acting just as badly as Harry was. But Harry was a teenager; he had his rights.

As he sat fuming in his and Ron's room in Grimmauld Place, he realized that he was going to get absolutely nowhere just sitting around and muttering angrily to himself. It was then that he decided he'd get up and get angry in Sirius's face.

Harry wrenched open his bedroom door and sped up the stairs to the next landing. When he reached the door to Mrs. Black's room, he hesitated. All his ambition had suddenly disappeared. Suddenly the hallway seemed freezing and the pit of his stomach felt unsteady. Harry bit his lip, running a hand through his hair to calm himself down. As he placed his hand lightly on the cold, silver handle, he jumped dramatically at a voice in his ear.

"Don't reckon you should do that." Harry's head snapped to his right where he met the grim face of Fred…no, George Weasley.

"Sirius has been in a right state these past couple days." Harry's head snapped to his left to face Fred, George's twin.

"I know," Harry said, slightly disgruntled at the confusion the two boys always managed to make. "That's why I need to talk to him. I need to set things straight."

"Ooo…" Fred hissed, shaking his head slowly.

"That's risky, that is," George muttered.

"We tried to reason-"

"with him yesterday."



"Pointless," they finished simultaneously. Harry's brow furrowed. It felt like a tennis match had just gone on in his head.

"Thing is," Fred continued.

"he has a talent-"

"for doing some magnificent-"

"Stunning Spells," George shuddered.

"and you wouldn't-"

"want to get-"

"on his bad side," Fred finished, nodding sadly.

"Would you guys stop that?" Harry hissed. "I'm going to have a talk with him and I don't care what the hell he wants to do! He needs to get over himself!" Harry huffed, staring at the snake-shaped door handle as if it was the source of his anger.

Fred and George looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"All right, then," said Fred, shrugging.

"Suit yourself," George smirked. They both leaned in close to Harry's ears.

"Don't say we didn't warn you," they whispered simultaneously. Before Harry could say anything, the two Apparated with a loud 'pop!' that made him jump again. Thoroughly disconcerted, Harry threw all caution to the wind and opened the door slowly. Besides the small 'click!' of the handle, the door cracked open without a sound. In the little sliver of room he could see, Harry saw Buckbeak curled up quite comfortably in the far corner by a fireplace, apparently asleep. Harry nudged the door a bit farther, relieved that it still made no noise. The space was now big enough for him to slide through, which he did.

The room was a spectacular arrangement of green, silver, and black. The fireplace was burning bright, illuminating the room from its black-bricked setup. There were two lofty chairs next to it, upholstered in green, set upon a thick round rug embroidered with silver snakes. The floor though, deep and soft, was a surprisingly fitting pale blue-grey. The armoire, desk, night table, and doors across the room were all stained a dark shade of brown. The walls were a deep green like the upholstery and like the bed resting against the wall on the far right.

It was a four-poster bed made from the same dark wood as the rest of the room and accompanied by a lush, velvet green canopy. It seemed to be larger than a king, with green sheets trimmed in silver and numerous matching pillows. But it was what lay on the bed that Harry's attention focused to.

Sirius was sprawled across the right side of the bed looking downright ill. He was wearing deep red robes over black pants, both of which made his skin look intensely pale. His face was turned to the large window on the far wall. It was covered with dust and grime but the rain could still be seen as it trickled down the panes. Harry could see, as he shut the door soundlessly behind him, how his godfather had begun to take on the appearance he had had when he first left Azkaban.

Harry walked a few steps forward, the thick carpet taking away any sound his bare feet might have created. He saw the dark stubble that had appeared on Sirius's face and the dark circles under his eyes that seemed to make him ten years older. His hair was straggly (more so than usual) and was spread out underneath him like a fan.

Sirius seemed to be watching the window as if it were some sort of thing that gave him a mild sense of hope. His grey eyes were glazed over and spaced out, dulled from reality. Harry was almost apprehensive to arouse Sirius from his situation. If he couldn't see that Sirius's chest was rising, he would've thought him to be dead.

Gingerly Harry walked towards the end of the bed, staring at Sirius with both a mild fear and curiosity. He wasn't angry so much as wondering at that point why Sirius seemed so lost in thought. He decided to take a chance and walked around the bed to the side where Sirius lay. Sirius made no sign that he realized Harry was there and Harry felt a pang of concern. He moved to stand in front of Sirius, just outside the path of his gaze, and knelt down, resting an arm softly on the bed. Sirius didn't move.

Harry's brow furrowed. Surely Sirius knew he was there. He looked to the window, hoping to see what had captured his godfather's attention, but saw nothing. Frowning, he turned to Sirius again. He placed his arm gently on the forearm closest to him, slightly relieved to find the skin still warm. He stared absentmindedly at the blue veins over Sirius's wrists and at the stark contrast between his tanned skin and Sirius's pale shade. When he glanced at Sirius's face contemplatively, he jumped to find those grey eyes staring at him.

"Uh, Sirius," Harry said stupidly. He winced slightly at himself. He made to move his hand from Sirius's arm but felt fingers close around his wrist.

"Don't leave, Harry," Sirius whispered, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't spoke in days. Which, Harry realized, he probably hadn't. Harry moved to sit on the edge of the bed and Sirius's hand relaxed slightly.

"Sirius…what's happened to you?" Harry asked gently. Sirius sighed heavily, squeezing his eyes shut and blinking as if to wake himself up. He ran his hands through his shoulder length hair, pausing at the knots. He huffed and looked at Harry. Harry felt at ease seeing the life in Sirius's steely gaze.

"I wish I could tell you," he responded, frowning at himself, "but I don't know it myself." He sat up and massaged his hand against his eyes until he saw stars. Harry could see how tired and out of sorts Sirius looked and immediately felt guilty for feeling so angry towards him. "It's not important, though," Sirius sighed, frowning still. "It doesn't matter." He still looked angry about something and something Hermione had said earlier popped into Harry's head again for the millionth time that day.

"Well…" Harry began. He was hesitant to bring it up but at the same time he wanted to prove that the idea was absurd. He wanted Sirius to laugh and tell him how ridiculous it was to assume such a thing. That way it would stop bothering him. "Hermione said something and, well I think it's stupid but-well, you know, never mind, it's-well-" Harry flushed with embarrassment. It wasn't that hard to say.

Sirius watched him thoughtfully. "What is it?" he asked, intrigued.

"Well, she said that-well, that you…" Harry took a deep breath to right himself. "She said that part of you wanted me to be expelled so that I'd come live with you and we'd both be outcasts together and that you felt guilty for thinking that and that's why you haven't been talking to me but that's stupid she's out of her mind I don't know where she got an idea like that." Harry inhaled deeply; he hadn't breathed the entire time. Sirius stared at him in amazement before turning away to stare at the window again. His expression made Harry's heart stop. He looked guilty.

But…it wasn't true, was it? Did Sirius really want him to stay that badly?


"Hermione's always been to clever for her own good." Harry stared.

"What…? So then-…she was right?" he asked quietly. He hadn't been expecting this.

Sirius smiled bitterly. "I guess that makes me pretty selfish, doesn't it?" He cast a sidelong glance at Harry. "I'm an idiot."

At that moment Harry felt an odd sort of gratitude towards his godfather. It made Harry feel loved in a way he hadn't felt before. Sirius wanted his godson around so much that he wished he been expelled. Harry laughed softly. Sirius raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"You're a total idiot," Harry smiled. Sirius looked shocked. Harry leaned forward and hugged him tight, still smiling. "Best idiot godfather I could ask for," he said. Sirius laughed for the first time in days, returning the hug with the same intensity.

When they parted, Sirius looked at Harry sincerely. "I am sorry I've been ignoring you, Harry. I really hate this place. Messes with my head."

"I was going to get angry with you about that," Harry responded thoughtfully. "I don't know why I didn't." Sirius chuckled.

"I have that sort of charm, I guess. No one can be angry with me." He nodded matter-of-factly.

"Except Ron's mum," Harry said. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"She doesn't count."


So yeah, tell me what you think! I love my use of Fred and George in this. They are just too cute.