Author's Note: After a rather difficult time, I'm glad to be back in the world of fanfiction :-) Thanks to all my readers for their patience!

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to Mrs Rowling. I am not making any money with this.

Home is my Castle

xxx

Something was brewing, Harry was sure of it. His godfather had been prowling the house with a disconcerting air of malicious joy about him for several days now, and when Harry caught him virtually skipping down the corridor, whistling a merry tune, there could be no doubt about it any longer: Sirius Black was up to no good.

Curiosity got the better of Harry. "What's going on?" he asked, poking his head around the door.

"Not much," Sirius said blithely, stopping in his tracks. "Just got some little business down in the hallway." He looked Harry over pensively. "You know, I could use a hand," he said. "Want to come?"

"Er, sure," Harry said, puzzlement growing. "No problem."

He followed Sirius downstairs where his puzzlement was joined by a disquieting sensation in his stomach when his godfather headed straight for the veiled portrait on the wall. "So what's the plan?" he asked.

Sirius' mouth curved into an ill-foreboding smirk as he stopped before the drawn curtains, fixating them like a hound bent on its prey. "We're going to clean up," he said.

Harry had no idea what to make of the almost feverish glint in his godfather's eyes, and a sense of danger sent a prickle down his spine.

But then Sirius turned to look at him, and the moment passed. "I came up with something to get rid of that blasted sticking charm," he said. "The problem is, I couldn't really test it, so I need someone to keep up a shielding spell in case there is… you know… debris."

Common sense told Harry that this was a dangerous, reckless and all-around not recommendable thing to do, and that now would be the perfect moment to back out.

"Let's do it," he said.

It occurred to him that he'd never seen Sirius do real magic before. The normal, everyday stuff, sure, and the animagus transformation was as impressive as ever. But this promised to be something big, and he was curious to see what his godfather could do.

They both drew their wands, and at Sirius' disposition, Harry cast a Protego that encased his godfather as well as the veiled portrait.

"Ready?" Sirius asked, and when Harry nodded, he pulled the curtains open.

Mrs Black never responded well to being woken. Harry actually cringed a bit at the torrent of insults and swear words, still not really used to the sheer volume she could achieve. Sirius, on the other hand, couldn't have looked more unfazed if he'd tried, a cold smile on his face as he raised his wand.

Over all the shrieking, Harry couldn't hear what spell he used, but the effect was impressive. Bright blue, zig-zagged flashes of light burst forth from the tip of his wand, latching on to the portrait's frame like clawed fingers of a massive hand. Mrs Black's screeches instantly rose in pitch, and now Harry understood why Sirius had asked for the Protego. The portrait itself, the wall behind it, and even the air between them began to spit multicolored sparks in all direction as mother and son battled each other.

Mrs Black howled like a forsaken spirit. "Disgrace of my blood! Vile, dishonorable freak! Curse the day you crawled out of my womb!"

Sirius gripped his wand with both hands. "Let go, you blasted old crone!" he roared over the din.

The floor began to tremble with the force of the arcane energies striving against each other, and Harry had to focus all his concentration on keeping his shielding spell up. He wondered briefly how Sirius could stand being in the middle of this maelstrom, unprotected as he was, but right then he saw his godfather yank his wand back, and with that movement, the blue claws ripped the jinxed portrait clean off the wall, taking large chunks of wallpaper and plaster with them in the process.

Dust and dirt drizzled down onto the floor. Mrs Black looked rather dumbfounded as she hovered in midair, eye to eye with her firstborn. Sirius' breathing was ragged and loud in the sudden silence, but from where he was standing, Harry could see the triumphant gleam in his godfather's eyes.

Sirius jerked his wand through the air like a bladed weapon. A deep gash appeared in the canvas, almost ripping it in half. Mrs Black started screaming again, but it sounded different this time, shriller. Frightened.

Sirius repeated the gesture, creating a transversal cut this time. They made for a strange contrast, Harry thought, the panicking black witch and her son, who had become very quiet as he pointed his wand at the destroyed canvas.

"Evanesco," he said.

A wail like from a dying beast ripped through the air. The portrait scattered into a million tiny dust flakes, and the resulting arcane shock wave finally killed Harry's Protego, sweeping both him and Sirius off their feet and flinging them into the opposite wall. Harry's wand clattered across the floor.

"Woah," Sirius groaned. "Merlin's fucking balls." He coughed, struggling to sit up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Harry said, though he did feel a bit lightheaded. Behind him, the sound of many hurried footsteps came thundering down the stairs, and next thing he knew they were surrounded by what had to be at least half of the Order, everybody talking at once.

"What in the world is going on here?" - Shacklebolt.

"Harry, are you hurt?" - Hermione.

"Hey, you blew up Sirius' mom, neat!" - Fred (or George).

"Are you out of your bloody mind, Black?" - Mad-Eye.

Harry grabbed Ron's outstretched hand and heaved himself on his feet. "I'm okay," he said again and again while Mrs Weasley hectically checked him over. He used his sleeve to rub the dust off his glasses and then craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of his godfather.

Sirius was back on his feet, too, and next to him was Lupin, who looked more amused than anything else. Harry didn't catch his words, but whatever he said made Sirius laugh. Over the small crowd between them, his eyes met Harry's, and he grinned, a real grin, one that reached his eyes and made him look like the young Marauder Harry had heard so many tales of.

Cleaning, he thought as he grinned back, if it went like this from now on might still turn out to be an acceptable way to spend the summer.

*Fin*