16

"So what's the plan tonight?" Sirius asked Harry as he entered the kitchen. Harry was lounged in a chair with his feet propped up on the table, lazily summoning the cutlery from across the kitchen.

"I need to pack still, so that I guess," Harry shrugged. Sirius frowned and pushed his godson's feet off the table.

"For fuck's sake, pup, it's your last night here before you go back to Hogwarts, you don't want to do anything interesting?" Harry smiled, Sirius's enthusiasm was contagious.

"Ruby's then?" he asked and was rewarded by a dazzling grin. They had found out early in the summer that Ruby's pub (although Ruby did not own it, she was always there when they turned up so it seemed fitting) was by far the roughest of those in their part of London. It was usually Harry who dragged Sirius there, craving the adrenaline rush that the dangerous atmosphere and the fights he inevitably got into caused.

"Let me grab my coat then," Harry said, already heading out of the room.

They reached the pub in record time, each of them feeling antsy. Harry was excited that he would be back at Hogwarts the next day, though he wasn't so pleased about not being able to see his godfather while he was there. Sirius himself was dreading the next day, but he pushed the feeling down, determined to enjoy this last night with his godson. The dive of a pub was crowded when they reached it. A dark-haired girl was screaming into a microphone in one corner, but Harry and Sirius ignored her and the surrounding dancers in favour of pushing their way to the bar. Ruby grinned when she saw them, leaning over the bar to kiss them each on the cheek, causing more than a few men to glare at them jealously.

"You in for a rough one tonight? 'Cos that's what you're gonna get," she warned them, eyeing the crowds suspiciously as she poured them some drinks.

"Fucking perfect," Harry answered, downing the shot in front of him in one.

Harry was floating in a blue sky that seemed to stretch on forever. Swarms of tiny white snitches were fluttering around, and he felt the oddest urge to run away from them. He started to run, only to realise that he didn't have any legs, or any arms or anything at all other than two tiny white wings on either side of his head. He felt a nudge on his shoulder, although that should have been impossible because he had no shoulders.

"Mr Harry Potter, sir!" the voice was distant but annoying, and he slowly found himself regaining consciousness.

"Dobbs?" he slurred, opening his eyes experimentally and coming face to face with house elf before hurriedly shutting them again, hiding from the light.

"Yes, Mr Harry Potter, sir! You must get up now, it is almost 11, and you is needing to get to the train station!" the elf's eyes were wide with worry, and he was wringing his hands together.

"Oh, shit!" Harry yelped, sitting up abruptly, only to be stopped by the pain in his head, "I haven't even packed yet!"

"Dobby did it for you, sir!" the elf piped up happily, pointing to Harry's trunk and bag which did indeed stand fully packed in the doorway, "But I wasn't knowing if yous were wanting the things from the attic, so I packed them anyway!"

"Err, right, thanks Dobby," Harry said, confused. He had stuff in the attic? "I'll check when I'm on the train, and if I don't want it I'll send it back, yeah?" He had jumped out of bed by this time and grabbed his wand and glasses from the floor beside his bed. He didn't have time to change, and so he just hurriedly grabbed his leather jacket that had been draped over his trunk and legged it down the stairs, charming his luggage to follow him.

"Hey, pup," Sirius greeted when he got to the kitchen. His godfather was stood ready by the fireplace, nursing a cup of coffee and looking somewhat worse for wear. He had bruises all over one side of his face, as though his head had been smashed into a wall and his knuckles were bloodied and covered in dirt. Harry wondered briefly whether he looked as bad, but dismissed the thought almost immediately- another thing to worry about when he was safely on the train.

"Mornin' Pads," Harry panted as he grabbed a handful of floo powder before passing the pot over, "Bye Dobby! Come visit me, yeah?" he called over his shoulder at the tiny elf (whose eyes filled with tears of joy, though Harry didn't see) before stepping into the fireplace and whizzing off to the station.

He fell out of the grate at the other end clumsily and, in his still only half awake state, did not have time to pick himself up off of the floor before his luggage came flying out of the fireplace on top of him. Luckily his trunk didn't burst open, but it did add a few extra bruises to him. He had just stood and gathered himself when his godfather arrived, still clutching his coffee mug, though more of it was on him now than was in the mug.

"C'mon, pup, I can see Ron and Hermione," Sirius grumbled, his tall stature allowing him to see over people's heads as they milled around. And sure enough, behind a few people were Harry's two best friends, craning their necks around in search of him. Ron saw him first, and grinned, waving, before his expression suddenly fell and became instead one of shock. Hermione saw him soon after, when he was only metres away, and a tiny scream left her mouth before she muffled it with her hands.

"Harry!" she screeched when he reached them, drawing the attention of everyone nearby, "What happened to you?" Harry looked down at himself in confusion. His brown t-shirt was ripped, showing off slight grazes on the skin underneath and the yellow tartan trousers he had worn the night before were caked in dirt and... was that blood? He couldn't see his face, but he felt it gingerly, wondering where the blood had come from. Sure enough, there was a large graze along his jaw and his neck felt bruised.

"Umm... I fell over?" he tried, shrugging sheepishly. Hermione narrowed her eyes as she saw Sirius standing behind Harry.

"Have you two been fighting?" she asked, her voice was businesslike but a slight crease on her forehead betrayed her worry.

"Of course we have, love," Sirius rolled his eyes as he lit a cigarette, glaring at Harry when his godson stole a drag, "but not with each other, so don't worry. Although if you don't stop stealing my fags, pup, then I might just have to start." Harry chuckled, taking a deep drag from the cigarette just as the train's whistle blew and all of the family's around them said their final goodbyes.

"Come on, mate, we'd better get on," Ron said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Just give me a sec, yeah?" Harry said, looking pointedly towards Sirius who was sulking behind him.

"Don't be too long though," Hermione said as she and Ron moved off towards where Mr and Mrs Weasley stood with Ginny a few metres away, the twins having already run off to find their friends. Mr Weasley was frowning angrily in Sirius's direction, but they ignored it, turning to each other to say their goodbyes.

"I got Dobby to pack something extra in your trunk, a way to talk to me during the term," Sirius started, looking awkwardly at his feet, "if you want to, that is."

"Shut up, Pads, of course I want to fucking talk to you," Harry answered, rolling his eyes, "Take care of yourself, yeah? Say goodbye to Ruby for me." Harry winked and his godfather let out a loud, barking laugh.

"Will do, pup," he grinned, pulling his godson into a hug. A manly hug, though. "Fuck off, then, there's a good boy," he said, letting Harry go and pushing him in the direction of the train with his luggage. Harry chuckled, grabbing his trunk and climbing aboard. He turned and saluted to his godfather who did the same back, grinning.

As they pulled away from the station, Harry saw Mr Weasley moving towards Sirius, but he shrugged- it was Sirius's problem now, and he knew exactly what his godfather would say to the accusations of bad parenting.

It didn't matter, anyway, because even though he would be away from Sirius, he was going back to Hogwarts- finally.