Birds of a Feather (Stick Together)

It didn't take long for Sirius to realize that Tom was with them. He narrowed his eyes at his father. "Are you done talking about boring stuff now?"

Tom's carefully composed demeanor shifted, his sharp edges softening just a fraction as he regarded his son. "Boring, is it?" he asked, his tone indulgent.

Sirius nodded emphatically, his focus turning to Harry as he grabbed his hand and began tugging him toward the door, his enthusiasm impossible to resist. "Come on! You have to see everything! The house is huge and I've got my own room! You have to see it! Father won't mind. Right, Father?"

"Sirius," came Tom's voice, smooth and calm as always. Harry glanced back to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, his sharp grey eyes glinting with amusement. "Give Mr. Potter a moment to catch his breath. He's just arrived."

Sirius stopped for half a second, looking back at his father with an apologetic grin, before turning back to Harry. "You're not tired, are you?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

"Not too tired," Harry said, though the truth was another matter entirely. The boy's excitement was infectious, and Harry found himself unwilling to dampen it. "Lead the way."

"Yes!" Sirius beamed, his grip on Harry's hand tightening as he pulled him into the hallway. "Come on, I'll show you my room first! It's the best room in the whole house."

Sirius beamed and tugged on Harry's arm again, his excitement impossible to resist. And Harry allowed himself to be led out of the room and as they walked, Sirius chattered non-stop, pointing out various features of the mansion as if he'd personally designed it. "That's the dining room," he said, gesturing to a grand space with a long table set for what looked like a dozen guests. "And that's the library. Father says I'm supposed to study in there, but I don't like sitting still for too long."

Harry chuckled softly, allowing himself to relax just a fraction. "Studying's not so bad," he said lightly. "Might even find something interesting in there."

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Maybe. But I'd rather explore."

Behind them, Tom followed at a measured pace, his presence impossible to ignore. Harry could feel the man's gaze on him, sharp and assessing, and it took every ounce of self-control not to tense under the scrutiny.

When they reached Sirius's room, the boy flung the door open with dramatic flair. "Ta-da!" he announced, stepping aside so Harry could see.

The room was as grand as Harry had expected—larger than the entire common room back at the orphanage, with tall windows that let in streams of golden light. A canopy bed sat against one wall, its frame intricately carved, and shelves lined with books and toys filled the space. A model train set was spread across a low table, its tiny engine frozen mid-loop.

"This is amazing," Harry said, genuinely impressed.

Sirius nodded eagerly. "It's my favorite place. Except when Father's reading to me in the library. Or when we're in the garden. Oh! You haven't seen the garden yet! We have to go!"

"One thing at a time," Harry said, raising a hand to slow him down. "Your room's pretty incredible on its own."

Sirius beamed at the praise, his grey eyes sparkling. "You think so? Maybe you can come over more often. Then I can show you all the best hiding spots!"

The innocent suggestion made Harry's chest tighten. He glanced over at Tom, who stood in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral. "We'll see," Harry said, keeping his voice light.

Tom stepped into the room then, his movements unhurried but deliberate. "Sirius, why don't you show Mr. Potter your train set?" he suggested, his tone mild.

Sirius's face lit up again. "Yes! It's the best part!" He crouched by the table and began adjusting the tiny train cars, his chatter filling the room once more. Harry crouched beside him, watching as Sirius set the train in motion. The boy chattered eagerly, explaining each piece of the setup in detail.

"Do you like it?" Sirius asked suddenly, glancing at Harry with wide, expectant eyes.

"It's brilliant," Harry said, smiling despite himself.

Sirius grinned, clearly pleased. "Good! Maybe next time we can make it bigger. Father says I can add another engine if I want."

Tom, who had been standing by the door, stepped forward then, his presence a quiet but undeniable weight. "Don't wear Mr. Potter out, Sirius. He's here for dinner, after all."

Sirius pouted slightly but nodded. "Okay. But you'll stay a little longer, right?" he asked, looking up at Harry with hopeful eyes.

Harry hesitated, glancing briefly at Tom before nodding. "A little longer."

"Good!" Sirius said, satisfied. "Then we'll have time for the garden later."

As Sirius returned to his train set, Harry stood, his gaze meeting Tom's. The man's grey eyes were unreadable, his expression calm but calculating.

"You seem to have made quite an impression on him," Tom said softly.

Harry offered a faint smile, though his guard remained firmly in place. "He's a good kid."

"Indeed," Tom murmured, his gaze flicking to Sirius before settling back on Harry. "He doesn't trust easily. It's… refreshing to see him take to someone so quickly."

The words were mild, but the undercurrent was unmistakable. Harry straightened, refusing to be drawn into whatever game Tom was playing.

"I'm glad I could help," Harry said simply.

Tom's lips twitched into a faint smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes. I'm sure you are."

Before Harry could respond, Sirius looked up again, holding out one of the tiny train cars. "Harry, do you think we could add a tunnel here?"

Harry crouched back down beside him, focusing on the boy's eager face. "Let's see what we can do."

For a brief moment, the tension eased. But as Harry worked with Sirius to rearrange the train tracks, the boy looked up, his grey eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Harry," he said, leaning forward on his elbows, "you've been on adventures, haven't you?"

Harry blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. "What makes you think that?"

Sirius grinned. "Because you don't act like anyone else. Not even Father. You're... different. And different people always have the best stories."

Harry hesitated, his fingers brushing idly against the edge of the table. He couldn't very well tell Sirius about the kind of adventures he'd been through—not without opening a door he wasn't ready for the boy to walk through. But Sirius's expectant expression tugged at him, and an idea struck.

"I don't know about me," Harry began, his tone thoughtful. "But I do know someone who had some incredible adventures. A friend of mine. Her name was Hermione."

Sirius tilted his head, intrigued. "What did she do?"

Harry smiled faintly, his voice softening as he spoke. "Hermione was brilliant. The smartest person I've ever met. She went to a magic school—"

"Magic?" Sirius's eyes widened, his excitement palpable.

"Yep," Harry said, amused by the boy's enthusiasm. "But even though she was amazing at everything she did, she had a hard time making friends at first."

"Why?" Sirius asked, his brow furrowing.

"Because she was so smart that it scared people off," Harry explained. "They thought she was bossy or that she'd make them look bad. So, for the first few weeks, she spent most of her time alone, burying herself in her books."

Sirius's expression turned serious. "That sounds awful."

"It was," Harry agreed. "But Hermione didn't let it show. She kept her head high and didn't let anyone see how much it hurt her. At least, not until Halloween."

"What happened on Halloween?" Sirius asked, his voice hushed as if they were sharing a secret.

"Well," Harry said, leaning in slightly, "there was this big feast at her school—tables piled high with food, the ceiling enchanted to look like the night sky, and everyone having a great time. But Hermione wasn't there."

"Where was she?"

"She'd been crying in the bathroom," Harry said quietly. "She overheard some other kids saying mean things about her and couldn't take it anymore. So, while everyone else was celebrating, she was hiding."

Sirius's face twisted in a mix of sympathy and outrage. "That's so mean! Did someone go help her?"

"Not exactly," Harry said with a small laugh. "See, that's when a troll got into the school."

Sirius gasped. "A troll? Like a real, live troll?"

"A big, ugly one," Harry confirmed, holding his hands wide to emphasize the size. "It wandered into the castle, and somehow, it ended up in the bathroom where Hermione was hiding."

"What did she do?" Sirius asked, his voice rising with urgency.

"She froze," Harry admitted. "Trolls are huge and scary. But luckily, two other kids found out where she was—one of them overheard the teachers talking about the troll, and they realized Hermione didn't know it was loose."

"Did they save her?"

"They did," Harry said with a nod. "They worked together to take down the troll. It wasn't easy, and they got into a lot of trouble for going after it instead of finding a teacher. But after that night, Hermione had friends. Real friends. And they stuck together no matter what."

Sirius's expression softened, his grey eyes thoughtful. "So, even when things were bad, it turned out okay for her?"

"It did," Harry said, smiling faintly. "Because she was brave enough to face the hard times. And because sometimes, all it takes is one person—or two—to make a difference."

Sirius sat back, his face contemplative. "I like that story," he said finally. "She sounds amazing."

"She is," Harry said softly, his heart tightening at the thought of Hermione.

"Do you think she'd like me?" Sirius asked, his tone shy.

Harry chuckled, ruffling the boy's curls. "She'd love you. Especially with all those questions you ask. You'd probably be her favorite."

Sirius grinned, clearly pleased by the answer. "Good. Then next time, you'll have to tell me another one of her adventures."

"Deal," Harry said, glancing up briefly to see Tom watching them from the doorway. The man's expression was unreadable, but his sharp grey eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before shifting to Sirius.

"Dinner is nearly ready," Tom said smoothly, his voice breaking the moment.

Sirius groaned but stood, tugging on Harry's hand. "You're sitting next to me, right?"

"If that's okay with your father," Harry replied, glancing at Tom.

Tom's lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes remained cold. "I don't see why not."

Sirius beamed, pulling Harry toward the dining room. As they walked, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of being both a guest and a chess piece, his every move watched and measured. But for Sirius's sake, he pushed the unease aside.

For now.