on easter eggs and why i love leaving them for myself to find
Oh my God. When did I write this? I don't even know. I DON'T EVEN KNOW. But I am so glad I found it, it's the cutest thing I've ever written, and also full of fandom cliche, and oh God, I love me so hard right now.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Sirius?” Molly fretted as she peered out the window.
Sirius sighed. “It might not be the best plan, Molly, but right now the boy hasn’t got anyplace else to go.” He could tell his words were falling on deaf ears; Molly’s eyes were darting between the children standing on the lawn. Remus was crouched low and speaking to Draco, who was nodding reluctantly. With a smile and a pat on the boy’s head, Remus stood and made his way into the kitchen.
“Well?” demanded Molly as he shut the door behind himself.
“I’ve told Draco that he can play with Harry and Ron until it’s time for lunch,” said Remus mildly. “He agreed.” The tone of his voice suggested that this should be the end of the matter.
Molly looked anything but pacified. She turned and looked out at the children again. “Oh dear,” she murmured, pushing the window open just a bit. “It looks like they’re already at odds with each other…” She shot Sirius a glance to suggest that this was all his fault.
“They’re boys,” Sirius protested, but Molly had already cast a listening spell out the window. He sighed again as the childish voices drifted towards them.
--
Harry looked back and forth from where he stood between the two other boys. Malfoy was eyeing Ron balefully, and Ron was giving the blond boy an equally mistrustful look. The silence was tense; Harry, who had often been the recipient of such looks of hostility while at the Dursleys’ home, stayed quiet and waited to see how it would play out.
“You’re a Malfoy,” Ron said finally. His tone indicated that this was not a favorable summation.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a Weasley,” he shot back, disdain coloring every word.
Harry blinked as they glared at one another. “I’m a Potter,” he volunteered, bewildered. “Can we go play now?”
But Ron and Draco didn’t seem to have heard him. Ron stepped forward belligerently as if to move past Harry.
“My dad says your lot are all Death Eaters,” he challenged.
In the house, Molly’s mouth fell open in horror, and Remus covered his eyes with his hand. Sirius held back yet another sigh.
Draco took a step too, gray eyes now flashing. “My father says that your family’s nothing but blood traitors,” he replied icily.
Sirius stood from the table and made for the door, Remus and Molly right behind him. Harry’s piping voice stopped them in their tracks.
“My dad says that names aren’t something anyone should be afraid of.”
Sirius and Remus frowned at one another and turned back to the window. Neither of them recalled having ever told Harry of James saying such a thing. Molly, shooting them both a quizzical look, peered out the window again.
Ron and Draco were now looking at Harry with equally confused expressions.
“Your dad?” Draco asked, and Harry nodded.
“Which one?” Ron said, and Molly’s forehead wrinkled at her son’s odd question.
Harry didn’t seem to realize that Ron had said something strange. “Remus,” he told them, and Remus’s eyes went wide and met Sirius’s shocked stare.
Draco seemed surprised too. “He’s your father?”
“He’s one of them,” said Harry easily. “Sirius is my other one.” In the kitchen, Sirius felt an electric shock of elation and astonishment run through him at Harry’s simple words.
Draco’s brow furrowed. “You can’t have two fathers,” he said, but there was doubt in his voice. Harry glared at him.
“Can so,” he replied. “My first dad died, and the Dursleys didn’t want me, so Remus and Sirius take care of me now. They read to me and buy me clothes and toys and teach me all sorts of neat things like reading and Quidditch, and - and they love me, I think.” He frowned, then corrected himself, “They do, they’ve said so, and I believe them." He looked almost defiant. "And I love them back, more than anybody else in the whole world. So that makes them both my dads.”
“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius managed, all the color gone from his face. Remus felt numb. Children saw the world in such stark and simple realities, he mused. How was it possible that such innocence remained in a boy whose past was so full of tragedy?
While Remus and Sirius had their mutual nervous breakdowns, Ron mulled over Harry’s answer. “What about your other dad, then?” he asked, and Sirius flinched very slightly. “What does he say?” Draco looked just as interested in the answer as Ron.
“Sirius says that people always end up choosing sides,” said Harry nonchalantly. “And that no one can ever really know who’s right or wrong, but people will decide for themselves what’s worth fighting for.” He tilted his head. “I dunno what a - a Death Eater or a blood traitor is,” he told his companions seriously, “but my dads always tell me that when I get old enough to understand some things, I’ll be able to make my own choice about right and wrong and all that, and I might change my mind a lot, but in the end I’ll be able do what I think is best.”
Draco and Ron glanced at one another again, but there was a mutual, grudging acceptance in the look this time.
“So what do you do until then?” Draco said to Harry. “Whose side are you on?”
Harry shrugged. “I’m not,” he said simply. “I guess for now it doesn’t matter that much.”
Ron looked a little doubtful of this conclusion, but lifted a shoulder. “Guess not,” he said. “You know how to play tag, Malfoy?” It was an olive branch; the earlier standoff had been forgiven and forgotten.
Draco, relieved and curious, shook his head. Harry and Ron exchanged a glance that became a grin when they looked back at Malfoy. Harry dashed forward and slapped a hand on Draco’s shoulder.
“Tag!” he exclaimed. “You’re It!” He and Ron dashed away, laughing. “Come and get us, Draco!”
The blond boy, looking bewildered but excited, took off after them.
--
In the kitchen, Remus had collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. Molly had closed the spell and the window, and was now busily preparing tea, not looking at either one of the men in her kitchen. Sirius stood by the table, staring blankly at the floor.
“He thinks we’re his parents,” Remus murmured. “His fathers. Oh, God.”
“Well, it doesn’t surprise me he does,” Molly said briskly, setting a full cup before him. “You treat the boy like he’s your own, why shouldn’t he do the same?”
“But,” said Remus weakly, “but - James…”
“Will always be the boy’s father, of course,” Molly said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “But Harry doesn’t remember him. He needs someone he can look up to and trust to take care of him. He needs you - both of you,” she directed at Sirius, who came out of his trance with a slow blink.
“He - is it all right for him to think of us that way?” he asked worriedly, finally taking a seat at the table. Molly gave him his own cup of tea, which he sipped once and then set down, too restless to drink. “I mean, to call us his fathers. It’s - it’s a bit controversial, isn’t it?”
“Nonsense.” Molly swept back to the sink. “You love him like a son. You think it’s fair that he only be allowed to love you as - what? Uncles? Brothers? Your father’s best friends?”
“No,” murmured Remus into his tea. “Of course not. He’s - ” He looked at Sirius plaintively. “He’s ours now, Sirius. He’s James’s son, but he’s our boy.”
Sirius gave him a small smile in reply.
EEEEE LITTLE HARRY, YOU ROCK MY WORLD.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Sirius?” Molly fretted as she peered out the window.
Sirius sighed. “It might not be the best plan, Molly, but right now the boy hasn’t got anyplace else to go.” He could tell his words were falling on deaf ears; Molly’s eyes were darting between the children standing on the lawn. Remus was crouched low and speaking to Draco, who was nodding reluctantly. With a smile and a pat on the boy’s head, Remus stood and made his way into the kitchen.
“Well?” demanded Molly as he shut the door behind himself.
“I’ve told Draco that he can play with Harry and Ron until it’s time for lunch,” said Remus mildly. “He agreed.” The tone of his voice suggested that this should be the end of the matter.
Molly looked anything but pacified. She turned and looked out at the children again. “Oh dear,” she murmured, pushing the window open just a bit. “It looks like they’re already at odds with each other…” She shot Sirius a glance to suggest that this was all his fault.
“They’re boys,” Sirius protested, but Molly had already cast a listening spell out the window. He sighed again as the childish voices drifted towards them.
--
Harry looked back and forth from where he stood between the two other boys. Malfoy was eyeing Ron balefully, and Ron was giving the blond boy an equally mistrustful look. The silence was tense; Harry, who had often been the recipient of such looks of hostility while at the Dursleys’ home, stayed quiet and waited to see how it would play out.
“You’re a Malfoy,” Ron said finally. His tone indicated that this was not a favorable summation.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a Weasley,” he shot back, disdain coloring every word.
Harry blinked as they glared at one another. “I’m a Potter,” he volunteered, bewildered. “Can we go play now?”
But Ron and Draco didn’t seem to have heard him. Ron stepped forward belligerently as if to move past Harry.
“My dad says your lot are all Death Eaters,” he challenged.
In the house, Molly’s mouth fell open in horror, and Remus covered his eyes with his hand. Sirius held back yet another sigh.
Draco took a step too, gray eyes now flashing. “My father says that your family’s nothing but blood traitors,” he replied icily.
Sirius stood from the table and made for the door, Remus and Molly right behind him. Harry’s piping voice stopped them in their tracks.
“My dad says that names aren’t something anyone should be afraid of.”
Sirius and Remus frowned at one another and turned back to the window. Neither of them recalled having ever told Harry of James saying such a thing. Molly, shooting them both a quizzical look, peered out the window again.
Ron and Draco were now looking at Harry with equally confused expressions.
“Your dad?” Draco asked, and Harry nodded.
“Which one?” Ron said, and Molly’s forehead wrinkled at her son’s odd question.
Harry didn’t seem to realize that Ron had said something strange. “Remus,” he told them, and Remus’s eyes went wide and met Sirius’s shocked stare.
Draco seemed surprised too. “He’s your father?”
“He’s one of them,” said Harry easily. “Sirius is my other one.” In the kitchen, Sirius felt an electric shock of elation and astonishment run through him at Harry’s simple words.
Draco’s brow furrowed. “You can’t have two fathers,” he said, but there was doubt in his voice. Harry glared at him.
“Can so,” he replied. “My first dad died, and the Dursleys didn’t want me, so Remus and Sirius take care of me now. They read to me and buy me clothes and toys and teach me all sorts of neat things like reading and Quidditch, and - and they love me, I think.” He frowned, then corrected himself, “They do, they’ve said so, and I believe them." He looked almost defiant. "And I love them back, more than anybody else in the whole world. So that makes them both my dads.”
“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius managed, all the color gone from his face. Remus felt numb. Children saw the world in such stark and simple realities, he mused. How was it possible that such innocence remained in a boy whose past was so full of tragedy?
While Remus and Sirius had their mutual nervous breakdowns, Ron mulled over Harry’s answer. “What about your other dad, then?” he asked, and Sirius flinched very slightly. “What does he say?” Draco looked just as interested in the answer as Ron.
“Sirius says that people always end up choosing sides,” said Harry nonchalantly. “And that no one can ever really know who’s right or wrong, but people will decide for themselves what’s worth fighting for.” He tilted his head. “I dunno what a - a Death Eater or a blood traitor is,” he told his companions seriously, “but my dads always tell me that when I get old enough to understand some things, I’ll be able to make my own choice about right and wrong and all that, and I might change my mind a lot, but in the end I’ll be able do what I think is best.”
Draco and Ron glanced at one another again, but there was a mutual, grudging acceptance in the look this time.
“So what do you do until then?” Draco said to Harry. “Whose side are you on?”
Harry shrugged. “I’m not,” he said simply. “I guess for now it doesn’t matter that much.”
Ron looked a little doubtful of this conclusion, but lifted a shoulder. “Guess not,” he said. “You know how to play tag, Malfoy?” It was an olive branch; the earlier standoff had been forgiven and forgotten.
Draco, relieved and curious, shook his head. Harry and Ron exchanged a glance that became a grin when they looked back at Malfoy. Harry dashed forward and slapped a hand on Draco’s shoulder.
“Tag!” he exclaimed. “You’re It!” He and Ron dashed away, laughing. “Come and get us, Draco!”
The blond boy, looking bewildered but excited, took off after them.
--
In the kitchen, Remus had collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. Molly had closed the spell and the window, and was now busily preparing tea, not looking at either one of the men in her kitchen. Sirius stood by the table, staring blankly at the floor.
“He thinks we’re his parents,” Remus murmured. “His fathers. Oh, God.”
“Well, it doesn’t surprise me he does,” Molly said briskly, setting a full cup before him. “You treat the boy like he’s your own, why shouldn’t he do the same?”
“But,” said Remus weakly, “but - James…”
“Will always be the boy’s father, of course,” Molly said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “But Harry doesn’t remember him. He needs someone he can look up to and trust to take care of him. He needs you - both of you,” she directed at Sirius, who came out of his trance with a slow blink.
“He - is it all right for him to think of us that way?” he asked worriedly, finally taking a seat at the table. Molly gave him his own cup of tea, which he sipped once and then set down, too restless to drink. “I mean, to call us his fathers. It’s - it’s a bit controversial, isn’t it?”
“Nonsense.” Molly swept back to the sink. “You love him like a son. You think it’s fair that he only be allowed to love you as - what? Uncles? Brothers? Your father’s best friends?”
“No,” murmured Remus into his tea. “Of course not. He’s - ” He looked at Sirius plaintively. “He’s ours now, Sirius. He’s James’s son, but he’s our boy.”
Sirius gave him a small smile in reply.
EEEEE LITTLE HARRY, YOU ROCK MY WORLD.