Thank you, all of you, for your encouragement and all the lovely things you have to say about my story! Thank you, thank you , thank you.

Now, this is a long one...

Chapter 24 – New Developments

Harry had spent a restless night tossing and turning, and with Draco's pale face flitting in and out of his dreams. When he had finally rolled out of bed in some too early morning hour, weary of himself and irritable, he fancied his godfather was actually quite happy to be left alone under the covers. Sirius only raised his head and blinked as he got up, then dropped it back down and went back to sleep.

Leaving him to it, Harry had dragged on his jeans and a t-shirt and trudged down the cranky stairs to the basement, determined to figure out a way to persuade the Wizengamot that he was in the right and that Draco Malfoy should be spared his parents' fate.

When Sirius appeared in the kitchen a couple of hours later he found Harry bent over some parchment and a pot of cold tea.

"How's the plan taking shape?" He asked, pausing by Harry's side to drop a kiss to the top of his head before he began rummaging around in the kitchen pantry for something to eat. (Kreacher had not yet made an appearance and Harry was not about to organise a search party.) "Do you know that the sun is shining?" he called.

"Hmm..." said Harry, scratching with his quill at a blot of ink.

"Fancy a walk?"

"Can't." He had written down everything he could come up with that would serve to prove Draco's innocence. He'd never thought it would make such a long list.

When only a grunt came from the pantry, Harry finally looked up. "Sorry."

Sirius stuck his head out. "It's all right. You have a Grand Rescue to arrange."

Harry made a face. "It's not a grand rescue."

Sirius grinned. "Whatever you say." Then he dove back inside.

"It's just a defence," Harry called after him.

When Sirius did not respond, Harry put down his quill. "It is," he insisted. "It's not like am going to whisk him away on a broomstick."

Sirius chuckled as he emerged, carrying some tomatoes and a basket of eggs. "No, you're more the Hippogriff type, aren't you?"

"Well, it worked," muttered Harry.

"That," Sirius dropped his findings on the counter and came to leave another kiss in Harry's hair, "is undeniably true." He straightened. "You go on and plan your rescue, Harry. I'll be in park. The most well-behaved dog in London. Promise"

It was with a twinge of regret that Harry watched Padfoot – tail whipping so hard the air sung around it – shoot down the stairs to Grimmauld Place an hour later. He watched until the great black dog was out of sight and then, with a sigh, he turned his back to the sunlight tumbling down into the square and closed the front door behind him.

He had meant to return to the kitchen but came to an abrupt stop when, in the dull glow of the gas lamps, he spotted something silvery sitting on the floor, only a few feet away. The surprise almost had him choking on his next breath but the form remained quite still. It was a cat, Harry saw, its bright white, translucent head tipped a little to the side, and its shining eyes narrowed up at him.

It's only a cat, Harry repeated to himself, willing his frantic heartbeat to slow down.

"Good morning, Potter," the cat said, and Minerva McGonagall's familiar voice floated out around him, somewhat crisp. "If you are not otherwise engaged, it would be most beneficial to yourself and Mr Black to invite me to tea this afternoon."

Harry blinked at the cat. "Um, yeah, of course." He was not sure his consent was needed. He could not really imagine the Headmistress of Hogwarts expecting anything else than his complete compliance. Besides, sending a Patronus was more a way of facilitating one-way communication than introducing a debate.

The cat's whiskers twitched. Then it leapt smoothly into the gloomy air and was gone.


Professor McGonagall arrived at precisely four o'clock. She was wearing a dark set of robes with tartan lining, and her eyes were sharp behind her square spectacles.

Harry had dressed in his best jeans and one of Dudley's oldest shirts, small enough to fit Harry at least moderately well these days. He was relieved, now, that Kreacher had washed his clothes after the Horcrux hunt but he could not help but nervously shove the toe of his trainers into the hallway carpet.

Sirius, too, had made an effort. His hair was washed and dried and pulled back from his face. He was wearing robes over his old denims and least washed-out t-shirt. Upon his return from the park he had been spattered with mud and there had been twigs caught in his fur but now, as he pulled open the front door, no one could have guessed.

"Mr Black. Mr Potter. Good afternoon." Minerva McGonagall had been an Order member and showed no sign of being humbled by the dour look of the old Black residence. Then again, Harry contemplated, nothing ever really seemed to humble her. She did not wait for anyone else to close the door but did it herself. "How very kind of you to invite me."

Harry could not be sure but he thought he almost caught a spark of humour in her eyes. It made his breathing a little easier.

"Our pleasure." Sirius tried a grin and it widened when she only lifted an eyebrow. "Lovely to see you again, Minerva. Do come in."

She did, but not without a snort.

They settled in the drawing room. Harry and Sirius in the sofa and Professor McGonagall in one of the armchairs. Harry saw her gaze scan the room and settle briefly on the yellow curtains. A small crease touched her forehead and her lips twitched. "Oh, how... inspired."

Sirius half turned to look for himself and flashed another grin. "Harry's work." He caught Harry's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I very much approve."

Heat mercilessly wandered over Harry's face as Professor McGonagall's attention transferred to him. "Very festive, Potter," she remarked. Her gaze flickered down to their hands.

It did not matter that there seemed to be a new gleam in her eyes, Harry only managed a grimace and a mumble.

"Eloquent as ever, I hear, Potter," she said, but this time her voice lacked its usual sharpness.

Sirius did not seem bothered in the least and Harry was grateful when it was he who took it upon himself to serve the tea. Kreacher was still nowhere to be seen so they had prepared everything themselves in his place. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall made no remark as she accepted her cup and carefully singled out a ginger biscuit which Harry dearly hoped was still edible.

When they were settled again, Sirius offered a new smile. "So, Minerva, what can we do for you?"

Professor McGonagall took a small, cautious bite of her biscuit and Harry cringed inwardly when she seemed to chew with some difficulty. She took a sip of tea, swallowed and cleared her throat. "I think, Mr Black, that you will find that it is rather the other way around. It is you and Potter here that can do something for me. That is, should you find the terms of the agreement reasonable." She laid down the biscuit.

Harry could not help his curiosity. "What kind of agreement, Professor?"

"Well," she began, her voice suddenly turning somewhat businesslike, "I realise that the offer I made you yesterday, Potter, might have been slightly badly timed. Considering that your... more personal state of affairs had just been settled." She made a curt nod at Sirius.

"Um, yeah," said Harry, even more embarrassed now. "I'm sorry if I was..."

"Oh, nonsense, Potter." She waved his concern away. "I'm not heartless." She almost smiled, then collected herself. "It has, however, caused me to reconsider and so I have a new proposition for you." After a little pause, she went on. "Mr Black, do not hesitate to correct me if I am wrong but I am going to assume that you have not yet devised a plan for your future?"

Sirius frowned. "My future?"

"As in what you are going to do with your life now that you are... alive again?"

Harry could feel his godfather shift in his seat. "No, that... I haven't really thought about that," he admitted.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Very good." She looked as if she was about to give the half-eaten biscuit a second chance but then thought the better of it. "I will admit, Mr Black, that during your time at Hogwarts you were the cause of several rather severe headaches among the staff members but it cannot be contested that you were also a very gifted student." Her eyes narrowed. "I seem to recall that you were a particularly skilled dueller, is that correct?"

Sirius' frown had deepened. "I guess..." he said hesitantly. "I mean, I was average, maybe good...?"

Again, her lips nearly gave in to a smile. "This – if you will take my advice – is not the time to be modest, Mr Black."

Harry looked from her to his godfather. He felt quite lost.

"OK..." Sirius said, a fair bit of suspicion leaking into his voice, "I admit I was good." When Professor McGonagall's eyebrows rose in question, he amended, "All right, I was exceptionally talented."

Apparently it did not matter that Sirius himself sounded less than confident because Professor McGonagall looked pleased at this and inclined her head at him. "And would you say that you have retained your abilities despite your... misfortunes?"

"Well, I..." Sirius was scanning her face intently, searching for some clue. "Yes. Yes, I have."

That was when she finally smiled. "In that case, Mr Black, I am offering you a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If you accept it will fall to you to teach our students the fine art of magical duelling."

A dense silence greeted her words. Harry was very slowly coming to understand what she was saying. It sounded almost too good to be true. Sirius would be... and Harry could go back... and...

"Sirius, that's brilliant! We'd both be at Hogwarts!"

But his godfather's face could just as well have been crafted from stone and the bubble of joy that was about to explode near Harry's heart collapsed in on itself. Sirius did not even look at Harry.

"Minerva," he said, his voice low and hard, "this is a position that you would never have invented if it had not been for Harry. Thank you, but I can't accept."

Harry barely understood what he heard but somehow it managed to hurt anyway.

But Professor McGonagall set down her teacup and looked at his godfather sternly. "Do not be foolish, Sirius. I do not deny that the idea had not crossed my mind before but you can rest assured that this is no work of charity. It is true that I would very much like to see Mr Potter return to Hogwarts but it is also true that these past years have shown that if one cannot defend oneself when evil strikes, there is small chance of survival." Her words came out sharp and crisp. "There is more to the defence against the Dark Arts than curses and jinxes. Mr Potter was on to something when he founded Dumbledore's Army and taught his fellow students how to properly wield a wand should a foe come upon them. Did your sessions not prove worthwhile, in the end, Potter?" she shot at him.

"Yes," Harry answered, automatically.

"There you are, Mr Black. We all hope, of course, that a no new Dark Lord shall ever rise, but – and I imploreyou to consider this – should we ever find ourselves once more battling evil it might be good if we knew exactly how to battle."

Sirius opened his mouth. Then closed it. Minerva McGonagall continued unhindered:

"That is why I am offering you this opportunity, Mr Black. Not because I think you need something with which to occupy yourself or because I am determined to persuade Mr Potter to return to Hogwarts. Not primarily at least," she added, her mask of iron determination slipping just a little.

Harry almost did not dare to breathe while Sirius sat pondering this. Finally, his godfather stirred. "The Ministry still considers me dead, Minerva," he said quietly.

She snorted. "And since when has death ever prevented anyone from teaching at Hogwarts?"

Sirius did not seem to have an answer to that. "People still think I'm a mass murderer," he said instead. "All these parents won't..."

"You will leave the parents to me, Sirius."

There was silence again. Harry pushed at his anxiety, fearing to hope...

"So..." Sirius rubbed the heel of his hand into his stubble. "I'd be a professor? That's... that is completely mental." And after what had seemed a year he finally looked at Harry. "And you'd be there too...?"

Harry nodded, a tiny spark of hope leaping up from his stomach into his chest. "We'd be together, Sirius."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Before you get too carried away, may I take a moment to remind you of the importance of proper conduct?" She was frowning. "Mr Potter would be your student, Mr Black, and I hope you understand that any improper behaviour between teacher and student is most fervently discouraged."

Sirius pushed his shoulders back and there was a cold glint in his eyes. "I'm am not going to live a lie, Minerva. Harry and I–"

She very audibly sighed. "I am not asking you to do any such thing. What I am saying is that there will be no special treatment of Mr Potter. You will educate him and grade him just as you would any other student, is that clear? What you choose to do after hours is your business." Her eyes narrowed. "Of course, I will be pleased if you refrain from becoming the source of too much gossip. In addition to this, Mr Potter will be expected to return to his dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower whereas you will have your own set of rooms in another part of the castle, Mr Black."

Harry glanced at his godfather. "That's all right, though, isn't it?"

Sirius had visibly relaxed. "I guess..." he said slowly. Then a smirk found its way across his lips. "Regarding 'after hours', Minerva..."

She pursed her lips. "Not too much gossip, Mr Black. That is what I'm asking."

It was probably a good thing that Sirius chose not to press the issue. Instead he nodded, looking more at ease with every one of Harry's heartbeats. And then he smiled. "I'd say it's a fair deal, Harry. What do you think?"

Looking into his godfather's eyes Harry felt his heart swell until it threatened to burst his chest. "Yeah," he grinned. He wished they were alone because right now there was only one thing he wanted and that was to kiss Sirius until they were both breathless. It was with somedifficulty that he turned away.

"Then it is settled," said Professor McGonagall. "I will see you both on the first of September." She gathered her robes about her and stood. Her eyes landed on the remnants of her biscuit. "In the meantime I suggest that you let your house-elf take care of the baking, Mr Potter."

But Harry was too happy to feel reproached. He grinned at her. "Yes, Professor."

She shook her head but did not look particularly angry. "I'll see myself out."

She had disappeared into gloom that lay beyond the drawing room when Harry decided that he needed to know. With a quick reassuring glance at Sirius, he sprinted after her.

He caught her as she was making her way down the stairs, past the ugly shrunken house-elf heads. "Um, Professor?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"Can I ask you something?"


He bit his lip as they descended the last few steps. "It's just this thing with me and Sirius..." he began, "you don't think it's... weird, or anything...?"

She stopped and to his surprise her face suddenly softened. "Mr Potter, this concept is not so foreign to me as you might think." She paused and sighed, and behind her spectacles her eyes turned distant. "You see, I had the extraordinary fortune of knowing a great man... Not a perfect man, mind you, but a great man. His preferences were very much alike to those of your Sirius. And, I suppose, to your own."

Some heat rose in Harry's cheeks but he said nothing. So she continued, almost gently:

"He trusted me enough to confide in me many things over the years. But for all the things he told me it was his firmest conviction – which he most ardently professed – that also became my own: that we might see Lords of Darkness rise among us from time to time, but, Harry, it is love that is the greatest lord of all."

And with that she left him, staring after her as she pulled open the front door and closed it again behind her. And Harry Potter wondered if he was suddenly understanding a lot more about a great many things.


The fire reached him where he sat snugly between Sirius' long legs on the floor of his godfather's bedroom. He tried to imagine them doing the same at Hogwarts and a bubbly feeling tickled his heart. The image came easily to him and he smiled. Harry would be back in the dorm, as Professor McGonagall had emphasised, but Sirius would have his own office and his own bedchamber. And if Harry could sneak inside once or twice, they would be all alone.

"What are you smiling at?" Sirius asked. His hand came up to tilt Harry's head a little sideways so he could see him better.

Harry tried a casual shrug against his godfather's chest but was not very successful. "I'm just glad we'll be there together," he said instead, which was the absolute truth.

Sirius's eyes danced over his face and settled on his lips. Harry could feel it. "You'll be my pupil, Mr Potter. I will grade you." His eyes gleamed.

Under that gaze, Harry blushed. "I'd better do well then," he said, but it came out sounding quite faint.

"Oh, yes," Sirius agreed, softly. "But I think you will."

"You will have to be fair, Sirius," Harry told him, momentarily sobering. "Remember what Professor McGonagall said: no special treatment." He didn't want to think about what would happen if the Headmistress was displeased with Sirius.

"In the classroom I'll be the epitome of fairness," Sirius swore loftily. But his grin was deepening until it turned slightly wolfish. "Don't you worry."

Harry opened his mouth to make him see but Sirius shook his head, stopping him. "Don't say it. Don't worry. We'll be fine." He dipped his head a little until his lips brushed Harry's. "Now, kiss me."

If Harry had not already been sitting down, he would have sunk to the floor when Sirius joined their mouths together. They kissed slowly, lips sliding softly together, Sirius opening up just enough for Harry to be given a hint of what lay beyond. Sirius' quiet breathing was warm puffs of air on Harry's skin and he angled his head a little more. The very tip of his godfather's tongue dipped into his mouth, almost furtively, and Harry shivered. Then a hand was cupping the back of his head gently. It did not guide him, or urge him on or anything like that – it simply held him affectionately in place. Harry pressed his own tongue tip into Sirius' bottom lip and felt the fullness, the warmth, rush over him. Then he dimly decided it was his turn and so he licked a first stroke across the soft skin. He thought he could hear Sirius moan.

Sirius' mouth was warm, warmer than anything. Harry deepened the kiss by mere instinct, arching upwards when his godfather caught Harry's tongue between his lips and sucked it into his mouth. The hand on the back of his head knotted lightly in his hair. He did not know he was still breathing until Sirius relaxed completely again and let him go, little by little, until the kiss was over at last.

His godfather's eyes were dilated, his lips red and gleaming and parted. With his free hand, he dragged his knuckles down Harry's burning cheek. His voice was beyond even a rasp. "I want you, Harry."

And Harry nodded.

Dazed, he watched Sirius cast the spells that would ensure their privacy. A nervous twitching had begun deep in his stomach and as he watched his godfather's wand slice smoothly through the air, it grew stronger and stronger until he thought it might be for the best to call the whole thing off. But then Sirius turned his attention on him and the words never came. Instead, he inwardly melted when Sirius placed a new kiss on his lips.

"Come. I think it's time for bed."

Later Harry never could remember exactly how he got to his feet, only that as soon as he was on them, and Sirius had placed their wands atop the bedside cabinet, he was back in his godfather's arms. Harry breathed Sirius in, trailing his hands down his back and telling himself he had done this (and more) before. That he was going to be fine.

Sirius bent his head and kissed his throat. Harry missed his next breath.

The warm mouth left a pattern of kisses on his skin. The bit of stubble Sirius was sporting grazed tantalisingly over him and Harry had no idea how to react. Part of him wanted to wrench away so that he might collect himself, but the other part of him was screaming at the rest of him to stay put. He had never thought his skin could prickle in any pleasant way but then Sirius added just a scrape of teeth to his kisses and Harry could not help his moan.

He could feel his godfather smile. "That's it, Harry," he murmured. Then proceeded to place a burning open-mouthed kiss on the place he had abused. "My beautiful Harry."

Warmth rushed over Harry. He wanted to bury his face in Sirius' shirt, dive so deep into his arms that he almost disappeared, but he could not move. Instead, he stood accepting of every little touch and caress Sirius would offer him as his godfather worked his way back to his mouth. They reunion kiss almost made him whimper.

Then he felt hands on his waist, working his t-shirt upwards. All he could do was to lift his arms and let Sirius slide it off him. Which would have been a success had he not been wearing his spectacles.

Sirius chuckled as he worked the fabric free off Harry's head. "So much for romance," he concluded as he dropped the t-shirt to the floor.

Harry, for his part, was rather grateful for the respite. He adjusted his glasses and managed to take a deep breath. "Sirius..."

His godfather stroked back his hair. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Harry was quick to say. He hesitated. He could still feel the imprint of Sirius' mouth on his throat. "Only... I don't know what to do."

"Ah." The grey eyes were a bit clearer now than they had been on the floor before the fire. "Keep doing what you're doing." Sirius smiled.

"But..." His tongue was lead. "That can't... well, that can't be enough," he mumbled, cheeks stinging.

But Sirius' smile only deepened. "For your first time with a bloke it is."

Then it happened. The words tumbled out of him before he could check himself and it was possibly the stupidest thing he had ever done. "My first time with anyone," Harry heard himself confess, and the mortification was worse than anything.

There was silence.

He saw the realisation dawn on Sirius. He saw the beginnings of a frown he immediately hated settle in his godfather's face.

Sirius had tensed. Harry could see his shock in the line of his shoulders, in the tightening of his jaw. He wanted to take everything back, to swear he'd been with Ginny and Cho both, if that would make Sirius touch him again. But he couldn't. He had told the truth and now he would have to live with it.

Sirius' face had grown very, very grave and his voice had lost a lot of its softness when he finally spoke. "Your first... ever?"

Harry nodded, mute.

"Ever." It had ceased to be a question so Harry did not answer.

Sirius briefly closed his eyes. Then he nodded, too. "Well," he said, dragging a hand across his face. "We had better make it good then."

All air went out of Harry. Like a rush of lukewarm water draining from him in an instant. Sirius lifted a hand and traced his lips with the pad of his thumb, favouring the lower one and rubbing it a bit harder than the other. It was strangely arousing and Harry swallowed.

Then Sirius replaced his thumb with his mouth. His hands planted themselves on Harry's back and brought him close. "You sure you want to do this, Harry?" he murmured, his words hot on Harry's lips. "For me to be your first?"

It was too easy. Yes, he was scared but he wanted Sirius with every fibre of his being, from the soles of his feet to the hair on his head, so he licked at Sirius' lips and made his godfather smile.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Sirius responded in kind. He licked his way into Harry's mouth as though he were an ice cream. This kiss was deeper than the others, causing Harry to push himself upwards, to wish he was taller. He would gladly stand on tiptoe and give up breathing all together if it persuaded Sirius. He felt hands on his hips and they guided him closer until he stood flush against his godfather.

"I think, however," Sirius rasped when this kiss, too, was done, "that we'll hold off with the fucking for now." He sounded out of breath.

Confused, Harry was about to protest when the older man smiled. "We'll save the fucking for another day," he clarified, light dancing in his eyes. "Tonight, I want to make love to you."

Harry had not known there was a difference. Well, maybe if he thought about it he might come up with a few ideas but right now he found himself dealing with a thrill that coursed through him and nearly made his knees buckle.

"I was never very good with the romance," Sirius continued uninterrupted. "And it's been a while. But we'll see what I can accomplish, yeah?"

Harry nodded numbly. "I'd like that," he managed.

Sirius laughed. "As good a premise as any, I guess. Now don't change your mind while I do this..." In a smooth move, he had pulled off his t-shirt. It joined Harry's on the floor. "And this..."

Next came his jeans. He flicked the top button open and slid the denim past his hips, past his groin, and down his thighs. Harry's mouth was dry by the time Sirius stepped out of them and kicked them aside. And then... his underwear. Harry wanted to look but he simply couldn't. He fixed his stare on Sirius' right shoulder instead. Because somewhere halfway down Sirius' body was that groin and...

"Harry?" His godfather dropped a hand to his cheek. "OK?"

He swallowed. "Yes, just nervous," he admitted in a small voice.

"Oh, that's all right. We all are, the first time. Now, are you cold?. Do you want candles?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Good. Then I suggest you get on that bed."

"But..." Harry glanced down. He still wore his jeans and socks.

Sirius stroked his cheek, and his voice softened. "All in good time. Trust me, Harry."

And he did. No matter what was happening Harry trusted Sirius so he climbed into bed and, according to Sirius' instructions, stuffed a pillow under his head and lay down on his back.

His godfather did not join him. Not exactly. In the dancing firelight, Sirius walked down to the foot of the bed and lowered himself onto the very edge. There – to Harry's utmost surprise – he proceeded to remove Harry's socks. These, too, joined the rest of their clothing on the floor.


"Hush." Sirius raised his eyes to Harry's. "Unless you really want me to stop. Then you must say so. Otherwise, trust me."

Harry closed his mouth.

Entranced, he watched as Sirius crawled onto the bed and up his legs, running his palms up and down Harry's legs as he went. Slowly, slowly. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through Harry at the sure touch. Sirius' broad hands explored his knees and his thighs, mapped his body through the denim. Harry breathed deeply now, revelling in the way Sirius' presence somewhere above him made him feel safe...

That was, until Sirius gently tugged at the top button of his fly. He opened them one by one, fingers light on the fabric but nevertheless making Harry squirm inwardly. The cosiness was exchanged for a mounting feeling of exposure and he resisted the urge to close his eyes as Sirius urged him to lift his hips so that he could slide the jeans off him. Knotting his hands in the duvet, Harry felt his safety barriers removed, but he stayed silent.

With his jeans gone, all that remained was his briefs. Harry swallowed as Sirius placed his hands on Harry's thighs and gave a small nudge.

"Part for me?" It was close to a whisper.

He did. To a new onset of trepidation, he watched his godfather stretch out on his belly between his legs. When Sirius slid his hands under his legs, Harry flinched.

"We won't do all of it tonight," said Sirius, quietly. He licked his lips and Harry's stomach turned over in a not entirely pleasant way. "But I want to taste you. Just a little."

It was painful, the way fear twisted in his breast. Harry tried to draw a steadying breath but when Sirius' arms curled around his thighs and spread him even wider, he gasped instead. Then Sirius was kissing him. Kissing the insides of his thighs, his stubble tickling Harry's skin and his lips warm and wet. Kissing his way upwards... Kissing...

Harry made some kind of noise and his cock twitched. Sirius' cheek brushed it now, through his briefs. It almost made Harry want to cry. He dug his fingers into the duvet and gasped anew when Sirius dropped open-mouthed kisses to his wakening length.

It didn't matter that there was a layer of cotton between them. This time Harry truly squirmed as his godfather pressed down just a tad harder with his mouth. Harry, ashamed and desperate, felt himself swelling in response. This was already more than he had ever imagined and he had no idea how to deal with it. "I..." he breathed, "it's..."

Sirius' mouth disappeared from his cock. "Shall I stop?"

But Harry shook his head against the pillow. "No. Don't... Don't stop. Please."

"I won't," Sirius assured him, still in that low voice. "Lift your hips."

And Harry did, and he swallowed hard as Sirius' arms slid out from underneath his legs so that his underwear could be removed as well. Then his godfather was back beside him, his head once more on a level with Harry's groin, but this time he curled around Harry's side... and oh! Harry could feel his hard length push against his leg. No cotton left anywhere.

He lifted his swimming head and found Sirius' looking up at him. His shaggy black hair was pulled behind one ear and his eyes were gleaming in the firelight. Without a word, Sirius bent his head and licked a long wet stripe up Harry's cock.

This was surely too much. When Sirius cupped his balls and stroked across them with his thumb, Harry knew he was going insane. Then there were fingers on the base of his twitching length and all of a sudden Sirius' impossibly warm mouth was all around it and Harry cried out, his throat raw. But Sirius did not waver. He sank his head down – his mouth – and his lips moved over Harry's straining arousal like lava. He took as much of Harry in his mouth as he could manage and then swallowed. Harry thought he tasted blood.

He was trembling by the time Sirius let him slide from his mouth. "So good, Harry," he mumbled, his breath ghosting over Harry's overheated skin. "You taste so good." He kissed him again at the tip, laving at the slit. "Want you."

Harry nodded blindly. He was not sure what he wanted but this was not enough. Something was tearing at him, something was insisting that he should spread his legs again, make his godfather lie between them again and do whatever he could to make Harry's agony expand until it exploded. He tried to say something but it came out in a moan.

He had not realised Sirius was moving until the bed dipped beside him and a mouth was on his. He kissed back. He knew he tasted himself, too, on Sirius' eager tongue that pushed against his but that seemed like nothing compared to everything else. Before he knew what he was doing, his hand was in his godfather's hair, messing it up, needing him to come even closer. Sirius' hands moved too. He cupped Harry's length and cradled it for a while before he gave a first stroke. Harry arched against him, feeling his teeth scrape against Sirius' lip.

His godfather's groan reverberated through him and the kiss ended. "I'm not going to come like this," he panted, but it sounded more like he was talking to himself than to Harry. "Spread."

Harry spread. He tried to catch his breath as Sirius clambered back to sit between his legs. He had fetched his wand, Harry saw.

Sirius shook the hair from his face. "It's more fun the traditional way. With lube and stretching," he added, for Harry's benefit. "But I don't know how long we're going to last, so..." He gave a lopsided smile. "I'm too hard for you, Harry." And then he provided proof by rising to his knees.

Harry's heart was halfway up his throat by then. Mesmerised he watched as Sirius took himself in hand and stroked. With the glow of the fire dancing across his pale skin, Sirius made a mouthwatering picture as he slowly slid his hand up and down his swollen length. His gaze, though, was almost dreamy. "I want to be inside you," he rasped. "Let me in?"

"I want you too," Harry mumbled.

Sirius bit his lip, and directed his wand tip at Harry. A strange sensation shot through him and he tensed up when he realised what it was. The cleft between his buttocks was coated in something slightly cool and sticky and his... his...

But Sirius was once more lifting his legs and edging closer and Harry saw... Harry felt the whole world spin backwards at a nauseating speed as Sirius lifted his whole arse into his lap and secured his legs around his waist and... And then... There was something poking at his ring of loosened muscle and... Harry screwed his eyes shut against the intrusion, half sobbing, half moaning as the blunt head of Sirius' cock slowly pushed inside.

This was more than he could bear. He threw his head back and bit down on his tongue as he was filled, wanting it to stop, wanting it to continue forever. It hurt despite the magic. It definitely hurt but there was more to it than that. Harry fisted the duvet so hard his fingers hurt, too. Then everything stilled.

Sirius felt enormous inside him. Tiny silver stars danced on the edges of Harry's vision when he managed to force his eyes open. His godfather's head had fallen back, exposing his throat. His hands were on Harry's hips and he was panting hard.

But he must have felt Harry's eyes on him for he shuddered and lowered his gaze. "I love you, Harry," he whispered. "You are everything to me."

He rolled his hips. Harry almost screamed. But somewhere, somewhere far away, his heart was soaring.

"Legs. Here. Up."

Harry's breath came in small bursts as he fought to place his legs on Sirius' shoulders. He had forgotten he was exposed, he had forgotten about being ashamed for needing this. All he wanted was more when Sirius leaned over him and came as close as he might.

He wanted Sirius to push into him, deeper and deeper and deeper, until he could go no longer. Again, again, again...

Tears were forming in his eyes as Sirius caught one of his hands and pried it free from the duvet. He laced their fingers together and guided their joined hands to Harry's weeping length. It wasn't stroking, but it was well-needed friction. With a growl, Sirius thrust again, his cock throbbing inside Harry. "Won't last," he grunted.

Harry barely managed a groan. The pressure on his length made him want to cry out. Heat was spiralling up through his legs and it felt as if his spine was on fire. Before he knew it, he was coming.

Sirius' deep thrusts guided him through the blinding explosion. He heard his godfather let out another growl, felt a new surge of power, and then a rush of warmth spread through him and his legs fell from Sirius' shoulders as his godfather fell on top of him.


Sirius' mouth was warm on Harry's shoulder. "Sorry," he mumbled, in between kisses.

Harry was floating. There was still the odd whisper of pain when he moved but right now he was floating. Sirius had curled around him and held him tight against his chest. "Why?"

"I guess I sort of forgot about the romance..." Sirius did sound sort of contrite. "Perhaps we should have done it like this instead." He gave a small push with his hips and Harry felt his slack length press against his buttocks.

But Harry made a dismissive sound. He strengthened his hold on Sirius' hand. To be honest, he was not sure he could have handled romance as well.

"No?" Sirius left a new cluster of kisses on his shoulder. "Well, we still have next time..."

Harry had a hard time knowing what he was feeling. Waves of something warm and fuzzy was lapping at him and Sirius was holding him so close...

"There will be a next time, right?" His godfather had lifted his head and his words were tangling in Harry's hair.

Harry smiled. "I'd like that."

"Good." Sirius lay back down. "And then, of course, there's the time after next time..."