Title: Sirius Black Is Sick of Your Parenting Advice
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: None, gen
Content Notes: Angst, AU (Sirius raises Harry), canonical character deaths in the background
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3900
Summary: Sirius chose to raise Harry instead of taking off after Peter. He just really, really wishes that people would stop telling him how to raise Harry.
Author's Notes: This is another of my "From Samhain to the Solstice" fics. This was written for a request about Sirius raising Harry and getting advice from everybody.

Sirius Black Is Sick of Your Parenting Advice

"You really ought to let him spend more time outside."

Sirius rolled his eyes as he set Harry back on his legs again. He'd run headfirst into the wall chasing Sirius's Padfoot Patronus. Harry wasn't one to cry, though. Even now he was gazing around, wondering where Padfoot had gone. "He spends half the day outside, Andromeda. The only reason we're not out today is the rain."

Andromeda looked out the window and blinked as if the drops streaming down the window in silver chains had surprised her. "Well. Still. He could use some more sun. Look at how pale his skin is."

Sirius laughed and held up his own hands. "He would fit right into the family, wouldn't he?"

"He still looks—"

"Padfoot!"

Sometimes Harry mumbled, not unusual for a toddler, but he was always loud when he was demanding his right to chase Sirius's Patronus. Sirius conjured it for him again, and made it run a little more slowly this time. Harry promptly laughed and lurched after it.

"I do wonder," Andromeda murmured, watching Harry while she kept a restraining hand on her daughter's shoulder. Sirius was sure that Dora would have been right off the couch to play on the floor with Harry if her mother hadn't thought it seemly in front of a visiting cousin. "They say that shocks like the deaths of a baby's parents can damage their health. If you look at that parchment-pale skin—"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "And I keep telling you about my skin. And you should have seen Lily. Harry's got her skin, that's all."

"But she had red hair and green eyes?"

"Well, Harry's got the green eyes."

"I just worry about him, that's all. Do you have enough iron in his diet?"

That was when Sirius still had patience for people trying to interfere with the way he raised Harry, so he simply rolled his eyes again and said, "Yes, Omeda."

In her outrage over a childhood nickname—created by Regulus's lisp—that she'd probably never wanted her own daughter to learn, Andromeda forgot to fuss at him about Harry. And that was all that Sirius really needed out of this visit with his family.

"I do wonder if we should start training him."

Sirius snorted as he watched Harry circle overhead on the miniature broom. He was only four, so the broom was charmed to go no higher than ten feet from the ground and even grow a net out from the sides to catch a child if they fell. Sirius rejoiced far more in his godson's laughter than he worried about the possible injuries. "Train him to do what, Headmaster? He's already getting what he needs to be a Quidditch genius."

Harry dived and yelled with delight. Sirius laughed. The broom was actually creaking, it was going so fast. Harry was pushing it near the limits of what its spells permitted.

"Training him to resist Voldemort, of course, Sirius."

Sirius stood as if he'd turned to stone for a second, then faced Albus. Albus peered over his glasses, his face worried. Sirius knew he was offering his advice out of the goodness of his heart and concern for Harry, the way Andromeda had always worried over his health.

It didn't matter to the ice forming in Sirius's heart.

"You said yourself that it was Lily's sacrifice that saved Harry. And she resisted Voldemort without any training at all!"

"I also told you the prophecy myself, Sirius. The one that says Harry must—"

"Yes, but it also never says how he's going to do it. Maybe Harry will trip You-Know-Who down the stairs and break his neck. Maybe he'll feed him a botched potion that gives him a fatal case of food poisoning. Whatever happens, it's not going to be resisting him wand-to-wand. If someone could do that, they would have already done it! You would have done it!"

"It's true that I do not think even I could best Tom in a duel," Albus agreed slowly. "But to leave him without any training at all—"

"Oh, he'll have it," Sirius promised. "Training in dodging, running, hiding, avoiding people. All the best dueling spells and practical charms and hexes and jinxes I know. He'll even get the full benefit of the potions books I have. But not to turn him into a weapon or a machine, Headmaster. Love saved him. He'll know love. Weapons and machines don't."

Albus looked up at the boy circling on the broom and finally smiled. "I think you are right, Sirius. Well. I will still worry, but you have eased some of my worry."

"I didn't do it for you."

"And that's what makes it all the more valuable, my boy."

Sirius said nothing. This particular argument had been resolved, but he knew Albus would offer more advice in the future. He just couldn't help himself. So Sirius would have to stand ready to counter it.

"That is Lily's child."

Sirius rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen to make tea. Snape had insisted on coming over to the small cottage where Harry and Sirius had moved soon after Harry's first birthday. It was one of the few Black family properties that Sirius had any good memories associated with. It stood on a cliff over the sea and had wards that calmed and soothed wobbling minds, whether because of the Black madness or something else.

So of course, when Snape invaded, Sirius had to back down and go make tea instead of confronting him the way he wanted to do.

He still cast a spell that made an invisible eyeball hover in the corner of the room he could watch through, of course. He wasn't stupid enough to leave Snape and James Potter's son entirely alone.

He watched Harry survey the man as critically as Snape studied him. At five, Harry stood taller than most children would, and his eyes were more piercing, and he listened better. When Snape muttered something else under his breath about Lily, Harry asked, "Why do you keep talking about my mum?"

Snape started. Sirius snickered into his sleeve. Snape seemed to be one of those people who thought children were statues who paid no attention to adult words. "I knew her."

"How?"

"We grew up together as children."

"You're her brother?"

Sirius had to put the teacup down.

"No! No, I did not mean that. We both had Muggle parents, and we lived in the same Muggle neighborhood as children."

"Oh. When I grow up, I'm going to go live in the Muggle world and marry a Muggle. That way I can show her all kinds of magic, and she'll be happy and surprised. I want to make people surprised."

There was a silence that seemed determined to last until Sirius came out of the kitchen with the tea again. He did it, smiling. Harry had that effect on people, especially when he pronounced the words in the kind of tone he'd used just now, firm as a prophecy.

Harry grabbed his own teacup and went to play with his toy black dog on the red-and-gold rug in the center of the room. Snape sneered over the cup. "Not exposing him to more House colors, Black?"

Good, something harmless to argue about. "Don't really see the need, Snape. Not when he's going to be a Gryffindor."

"He has a good vocabulary for his age."

"Why, thank you."

"I didn't mean to give you any compliment, Black."

"Who's raising him, Snape?"

That led to some more, sort-of-polite tooth-gritting rage. Sirius drank his tea and grinned. Harry was bending down in front of the dog, telling it very seriously that it would need to change into a wolf with the full moon coming up.

"Lily could have been in Ravenclaw," Snape said suddenly.

"Smart enough for it," Sirius agreed amiably, partially because he really did think it was true, and partially because he wanted Harry to have this link to his mum, but mostly because it made Snape's face turn red.

"That means you should expose him to Ravenclaw House colors, too."

"Mmhm."

"And even your own brother and every other Black that existed was in Slytherin."

"Huh."

"So he could be in Slytherin, too."

Not dishonest or sneaky enough, Sirius thought, but what he said was, "Imagine that."

Snape spent the rest of the afternoon trying to have an argument with him, which Sirius skillfully avoided, and left looking as though he was going to have an attack of apoplexy. "Say bye-bye to Uncle Severus!" Sirius told Harry, simply to watch Snape's back stiffen under his cloak.

"Good-bye, Uncle Severus!" Harry called politely, and then complained to Sirius under his breath, "Bye-bye is for babies."

"Right you are," Sirius said, and cheerfully shut the door. Even Snape's crack of Apparition had sounded furious.

"He really does look just like his parents," Minerva whispered, and reached up to wipe tears away from beneath her eyes. Sirius politely looked aside.

"But I'm not just them," Harry said, and Sirius watched Minerva smile.

"Aren't you? What else can you do, Mr. Potter?"

"Harry," Harry corrected her, with his usual trampling of everyone's boundaries, and turned around to pick up the practice wand that Sirius had given him. It was Regulus's from when they were children. "Watch!" He pointed the wand at the far side of the room and frowned for a second, and then yelled, "Up!"

The curtain that covered the window drifted up and to the side. Minerva sucked in a startled breath and turned a look on Sirius that he was familiar with. It was the one that had usually meant he or James had done something worthy of detention. "Sirius Black. Are you really teaching him spells that young?"

"The wand directs his accidental magic more than anything, Minerva."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but Harry yelled, "Watch! Watch!", and turned the blue curtains red, and then made his furry wolf plush get up and walk. Minerva applauded and sighed over how brilliant Lily had been with Charms and only cast Sirius a few more suspicious glances.

Her total was up to six by the time she left. She turned around and offered Sirius her hand and said formally, "Thank you for inviting me to meet Harry. I know how many requests for interviews you've declined."

Sirius smiled and leaned in to hug her, ignoring her huff. "You're not one of those prying reporters, Minerva, you're a friend. And, well, you're going to be his Head of House. I want him to get used to your stern ways before you take charge of him ten months of the year."

"Sirius." Minerva gave him another narrow glance, less suspicious this time. "I've seen students who were miserable because they were pushed towards being in their parents' Houses when it didn't suit them at all. It would be nice if you could tell him that it doesn't matter which House he ends up in. He'll still have his godfather's regard and the gratitude of people who know what he freed us from."

"Do you really think that he'll be in a House other than Gryffindor, Minerva?"

Minerva wavered for a moment, staring at Harry, who was chasing the small red and gold stars he had conjured that whirled around his own head. Her lips twitched violently, and then she said, "Sirius, that is not the point."

"Sure it is, Minnie," Sirius said, and cheerfully listened to her spluttering the entire way to the Apparition point.

"I shouldn't be around him. I should go home."

Sirius smiled at Remus, who was trussed up in the special trap Sirius had been preparing for this moment, and went on checking the Wolfsbane to make sure it was smoking the way it should. Remus had already had his doses for the week, and the potion had worked perfectly the last time Sirius brewed it. But Remus wanted him to check again, so Sirius humored him. "Harry is happy that you'll stay. He's always asking where you are the morning after the full moon, and asking if you want to go home to spend it with other people instead of us."

Remus was looking appropriately guilty when Sirius turned around again. But then he began to struggle once more. "Sirius, put me down."

Sirius just admired the trap again. It was a thick web of steel-strong strands, which stuck Moony to the wall quite effectively. Sirius had tested part of it last full moon without Remus knowing what he was doing, and not even a werewolf could break the strands. "Open up now, Moony."

Remus did indeed open up, probably to give him another scolding, and Sirius poured the Wolfsbane down his throat. Remus coughed and spluttered and choked and waved his arms around as much as he could when he was pinioned to the cellar wall, but he also made sure to swallow the whole dose.

He thought Sirius was mad for risking Harry's safety on a full moon night, but he wouldn't do it himself.

"You've been docile for years now with the potion," Sirius said, stepping back. "I don't understand why you think you'll suddenly go mad and murder someone, or why we have to spend every full moon night away from Harry."

"I just—I can't take the chance, Sirius."

Sirius nodded. "I understand. That's why I'll take it for you."

Remus started to respond, but the moon must have risen high enough to affect him. His next answer was a wail of pain as the bones in his body fractured and snapped and rearranged themselves. Sirius winced just listening to it. But he stood firm, and ignored the way that Remus stared at him in disapproval when he was Moony and still stuck to the web.

He changed into the giant black dog, and romped over to nudge at Remus. Remus began to struggle again, and in a few minutes he was using his full strength and growling in irritation. It didn't matter. He was held.

Sirius waved his tail at him, then changed back to human for long enough to pick up his wand and end the spell. Remus tumbled to all fours and looked at him warily. Sirius spread his arms. "See? You aren't charging me. You can be around humans when you're under Wolfsbane, Remus."

Remus bowed his head and shook a little, saying nothing. But Sirius knew he would be weeping if he was human.

Then he went over and opened the cellar door and revealed his final surprise for Remus. Harry romped in, in the form of a wolf pup. Sirius had worked hard on so many things to make this happen: his Potions skills, the web spell, and human Transfiguration that he could reverse the next morning.

Remus froze, and a howl that was half a moan rose from his throat. Sirius rolled his eyes. "He wasn't bitten, you complete idiot. I Transfigured him for the night." He changed back into his own Animagus form, and Harry yipped at him and rushed over to nuzzle against Remus's side.

Seeing Moony stare down at another wolf and then reach out with a trembling muzzle made it all worth it.

The next morning, of course, Remus was telling Sirius what an irresponsible idiot he had been and that he couldn't raise Harry like that and all this other nonsense. Sirius only shook his head and ignored him. Best friend Remus might be, but he was still an idiot, and Sirius knew better than to listen to idiots.

"Cousin Sirius!"

Speaking of idiots, Sirius thought, turning away from the man who was trying to sell him a trunk twice as expensive as he needed. Sirius arranged his face in an expression of long-suffering that could look polite if you were as blind as Lucius Malfoy was. "Narcissa."

His cousin floated towards him and kissed the air next to his cheeks. Sirius didn't turn his head in time, so she nearly touched his doubtlessly disgusting skin with her lips. She drew back, staring at him.

Sirius gave her the kind of hapless grin she probably expected from him, and Narcissa nodded, satisfied. She held out her hand. "Draco, come here and meet your cousin."

Sirius was pretty sure that he stifled his snicker. So Narcissa won the battle about what to name the kid, huh? He watched as a pale little boy came strolling to Narcissa's side. He was trying to hold his nose up and look accomplished and adult. He mostly succeeded in looking pointy.

"This is my son, Draco Malfoy," Narcissa said, as if she hadn't already announced that, her hand on Draco's shoulder.

"He's very…blond."

Narcissa shot him a sharp glance (still not as sharp as her son's cheekbones), and then looked around. "We had heard you were raising the Boy-Who-Lived, Sirius. Where is he?"

"I actually traded him for a map to buried treasure."

Draco stared at him with his mouth open. Narcissa's glance this time was disapproving. But Harry laughed from behind a nearby rack of trunks and gave the game away.

"It would have to be at least two maps, Sirius, otherwise it wouldn't be a fair price." Harry stepped into sight and gave Narcissa and her son a polite if unenthused nod. "How are you, Mrs. Malfoy? Draco."

"You're Harry Potter," Draco said, a vibration of awe in his voice.

"He's also very Slytherin," Sirius whispered to Narcissa.

She glared at him, but Harry answered before she could say anything. "Yeah, I get that a lot. It's the fringe, isn't it?"

Draco blinked, puzzled in a way that no nine-year-old boy should be. Sirius sighed. He was probably growing up in an environment with no jokes. What a sad thing. If Sirius and Narcissa managed to get along well enough, then perhaps Harry and Draco should play more often, and then Sirius could maybe ensure the poor boy had a sense of humor.

"What are you wearing?" Draco asked next, a note of horror in his voice that also didn't belong to any nine-year-old boy.

Harry held out the sleeve of his old black robe. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's dirty."

"We're hardly going to a ball. This is just Diagon Alley."

"You allow the boy to appear in public in dirty clothes, Cousin Sirius? When you have the Potter and Black fortunes at your disposal?"

"Everyone makes some inadvisable decisions, Narcissa. For example, staying with a man who has the Dark Mark branded on his arm."

"Ouch, Mother, you're hurting me!"

Narcissa pulled her white-knuckled hand back from Draco's shoulder and gave Sirius a frosty smile. "It was lovely to catch up, cousin. I suppose that we're too different to truly get along, of course."

Sirius only rolled his eyes and turned away. He knew this wasn't the only time that Narcissa would try to flatter him into allowing Harry and Draco to spend some time together. He was raising the Boy-Who-Lived, as she had so delicately reminded him. Lucius would probably push her to reconcile.

Which meant that he and Harry could show Draco what it was like to actually live.

Sirius picked up the letter, curious. He hadn't recognized the owl that delivered it, which was unusual. He only grew more puzzled when he saw the Malfoy crest on the back of the envelope. Draco had just come to play—not an unusual occurrence now that Narcissa was pretending she could stand Sirius—and had headed back through the Floo less than an hour ago. What could possibly have gone wrong since that time?

The writing was Lucius's, not Narcissa's, which probably meant the owl was, too.

Sirius Black, you sent my son back dirty. Just because you allow your own adopted son to run around in rags and dig in the garden and probably practice pranks that involve the throwing of Dungbombs—

There was more, but Sirius didn't get the chance to read it, since the letter contracted an unfortunate case of burning in the fireplace.

Sirius steered Harry through the crowd of people waiting for the train in King's Cross, smiling blandly at the ones who turned around in front of them and seemed to think about making a fuss. Harry was confident and standing tall next to him, his arms full of the owl cage, with Hedwig in it, that he had insisted on carrying himself.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the rest of their luggage was still floating behind them, and then looked down just as Harry smiled up at him.

"You're going to be okay, pup." Sirius hated how husky his voice was, and how much that had come out sounding like a question instead of the statement he meant it to be.

Harry hugged him hard enough that one of the buttons popped off Sirius's robes, although he at least put down the owl cage to do it. Sirius didn't much fancy being pecked in the groin. "Yes, I am, Sirius. I love you. I'm going to miss you. But I'm so ready to go to Hogwarts!"

Sirius held his godson, his son, for another moment. Harry was slender but strong in his arms. Staying to protect and adopt him was the best choice Sirius had ever made in his life. The Aurors had taken a few years considering Peter's Animagus form, but they had tracked him down at last. Sirius had been proud to attend his trial.

But every moment of the trial, as satisfying as it had been, paled next to this one second of holding Harry.

Harry pulled away at last, grinning at Sirius, and reached up to brush a tear away from Sirius's eye that he hadn't even known he was shedding. "See you in a few months," he said softly, and then grabbed Hedwig's cage and rushed onto the train, shouting for Neville and Draco and the girl he had met in the bookshop last month, Hermione something or other.

Sirius waited until he saw Harry at the window, waving to him, and then he waved back and turned to Apparate home. Most parents stayed until the train left, but he knew he would break down in tears if he did that.

Besides, he could see Narcissa in the distance, and the last thing he wanted was a lecture on how tears were unseemly in public.

Sirius grinned widely as he read the letter from Harry. Hedwig was sitting on the perch he had bought especially for her, nibbling owl treats and awaiting his reply. Sirius reached up to scratch her head, and she responded with a happy ruffling of feathers.

"I'd like you to take two messages, girl," he murmured. "Can you do that?"

Hedwig bobbed her head, and Sirius wrote the letters swiftly. One, addressed to Harry, said, I KNEW you'd get into Gryffindor. Good for you, pup!

The other one was going to Snape, and said only, Ravenclaw or Slytherin, my arse.

Hedwig grabbed both messages from him and bolted into the sky. Sirius watched her go, still grinning.

The Howler from Snape that woke him up the next morning at five was totally worth it.

The End.