in a turn of events that doesn’t surprise anyone im sure, @impishtubist has caused yet another scene to be stuck in my head until i wrote it down. so, have some sexy, greying sirius; a deeply thirsty, appreciative james who won’t let him dye it; and a very-fed-up-of-his-parents-antics harry for prongsfoot wednesday!
x
Harry entered the house with ‘I’m home!’ on his lips that died an instant death as soon as he registered what he was seeing.
“Er,” he hesitated. Does he really want to—? One more look at the scene in front of him and he decided to bite the bullet. Better to clear the air now than keep stewing on it later.
“Um. Is this a—kink? A fetish? Should I leave and never come back?”
In any other scenario, the way both his parents froze and looked at him with wide eyes would’ve been comical.
If only Dad wasn’t straddling his Papa on the ground, one of his hands holding both of Papa’s above him with disturbing ease.
“Er—“
“It’s not what it looks like, Haz!” Dad yelped, cutting across Papa who’s face and neck were turning a steady pink. “I swear.”
“Then why are you still—like that?” Harry asked, deciding to play it safe and look at the boring grey couch in the living room instead. Nothing scandalous going on there.
He could hear the scrambling of feet, a few thumps, and a mini-yelp, absently wondering about the amount of noise the simple act of getting up could produce.
“Right.” Dad cleared his throat. “So, Harry, would you please tell your Papa that he is, under no circumstances, allowed to dye his hair?”
Harry blinks, turning to his other, exasperated, father in silent question.
“Harry, will you please tell your Dad that this is my hair and I can do with it as I please?”
“Not when you promised yourself to me!” Dad yelps and Harry is hit with an intense wave of regret at instigating this.
“Promised—?”
“Yes! Our wedding, you said, and I quote, ‘I give myself to you, James Potter, mind, body and soul’, don’t tell me you forgot.”
“Of course I didn’t forget,” Papa throws his hands up in the air. “But c’mon James—this is not what I meant when I said body!”
“What, you think I only wanted you for that ars—“
“Dad!” Harry, yelps, mortified. He can feel his cheeks heating in a violent blush. He can feel a similar flush creeping up Papa’s neck. Sadly, his words don’t have the deterring effect he’d intended.
“I mean, it is spectacular, don’t get me wrong, but you’re more than just a beautiful body, Si!”
“James, please, have some mercy for our child, if not me,” Papa says. Thankfully, this seems to register as Dad’s eye widened, part horror and part apology. Harry waves it away tiredly; though he’s no less embarrassed every time it happens, growing up in the Potter household with two extremely affectionate parents has exposed him to much worse. He’s accepted it as his lot in life.
“Er—yeah, anyway,” he coughs, ruffling his hair, “Bottom line—Sirius isn’t allowed to dye his hair.”
“I literally never agreed to that.”
“Too bad because you will,” Dad says, slowly moving towards Papa with a look on his face that Harry is loath to describe as predatory. If only it wasn’t so true.
“Oh?” Papa’s left eyebrow rises extraordinarily high, as it tends to do quite often. He crosses his arms over his chest in challenge. The motion makes his Dad smile.
“Mhm.” The two of them are chest-to-chest by this point, staring into each other’s eyes. Harry could probably conduct a whole rave party right here, right then, and they wouldn’t even notice. That is when he decides it’s high time he should step in—not literally, Merlin, no—before they end up doing something that makes him try to run away (again).
“So I was right—it is a kink,” Harry says dryly, once again regretting starting this entire conversation in the first place. He should’ve just turned back around and gone to the Weasleys instead.
“Harry, no—“
x
Three years later, Harry—who’s almost blissfully forgotten about the entire incident—walks into his parents’ house to an almost identical scene, just with his Papa on top this time. This time, he makes the sensible choice he still regrets not making all those years ago, and walks right back out the door.
Let those two sort it out on their own. Merlin knows his intervention hadn’t helped a bit the last time around.
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Sirius gets a bunch of various lethal presents from his family post-Prank, and each one is a message of “just do the killing yourself.” Bella sent a cursed set of knives that cause agony to whoever they’re used on, Narcissa sent along a bunch of poisons, Andromeda sent along some kind of enchanted communication method so she can alibi him out as well as more enchanted knives but these always hit the target, Regulus handed him a hand of glory after class one day and Sirius really wants to know why Regulus even had this thing (he stares at his brother for a couple seconds before just shrugging and thanking Regulus, and telling Regulus that he’ll let the Slytherin team win the Quidditch game this weekend as a thank you and Regulus very nearly beats his brother with that Hand of Glory because Slytherin doesn’t need victories just handed to them and they win on their own; Sirius raises an eyebrow and hums under his breath, and Regulus has to leave before he commits fratricide), and even their parents get in on the murder presents, sending on a bunch of Dark books that may not be banned but that’s more likely because nobody remembered they existed than anything else. The Marauders are sitting at the breakfast table, looking at these murder gifts Sirius just received with his mail, and none of them have a clue what to say, there’s no rule book for “your best friend’s bizarre and homicidal family just sent him a bunch of murder methods, right in front of your breakfast.” It’s totally silent at that part of the Gryffindor table, all of them staring at the gifts (aside from Sirius, who’s focusing on Narcissa’s letter that details the different poisons she sent)
sksksks imagining sirius dealing with the disappointment of not just his friends (which like, only really means remus lbr) but also his family.
the only difference (and quite a big one too) is that the former is because he tried to kill someone and the latter is because he didnt do it properly. which is obviously the bigger problem here. the blacks have got their priorities straight.
so, sirius is stuck in the middle juggling to diametrically opposing judgements. no wonder poor guy was so tortured. literally being pulled in two directions.
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