Invisible Strings of the Heart — Part 2/2
"Harry, I know what you can feel. I know why up until now you have always treated me that way: connected to me, but with a small barrier you never quite break through. But listen to me carefully, boy: you do not owe me anything. I owe you everything."
Sirius looked him straight in the eyes, and that took Harry by surprise.
"You... you knew?" he asked softly, without looking away.
Sirius smiled faintly. It was a different smile, one Harry had never seen before: full of concern, of tenderness, of an affection so sincere that only Wanda had ever looked at him that way. He did not answer with words. He did not need to. That look was his answer.
A knot formed in Harry's chest. He breathed deeply, trying to order what he felt.
"I do not hate you, Sirius," he murmured in a trembling voice. "I do not push you away because I want to. I just... do not know how to treat you. I do not know how to be close. It is as if you are the living representation of my parents, of the past I never knew. It is strange, yes... very strange. Because my mother is Wanda. She has been since the day she opened the door and took me with her. And that confuses me. If I accepted you completely... if I accepted my parents as my parents, I feel like I would be rejecting everything Mom did for me. Everything she sacrificed. She raised me, she cared for me, she was always with me."
Tears began to fall down Harry's face, silent but intense.
"And still... I miss them. My parents. I miss them even though I never knew them. And that is... frustrating," he said, frowning, as if he wanted to argue with the universe itself for having taken away what he most wanted. But at the same time, if his parents had not died, Wanda would never have been there. Everything mixed together, a tangle of emotions impossible to unravel.
Sirius moved closer slowly. He crouched in front of him and put a firm hand on his shoulder.
"You are foolish sometimes, did you know that?" he said with a sad smile. "Even being a genius. None of your mothers, not even your foolish father, would be upset about that. And they would not be sad. In fact, if Lily were still alive, she would probably have dragged Wanda to her house to make her her sister, even if she were a magical monster."
Harry let out a choked laugh, a mixture of crying and relief.
"Harry," Sirius continued in a softer voice, "it is fine. You must not feel guilty about what you feel. It is normal. Your love for your parents was never in doubt... nor for Wanda."
He paused, his eyes shining with sincerity.
"Maybe it is not much, but I am here. I am, at least, the link you have left to them. I am not your parents, and I never will be. But if I can help you remember them, keep them alive in your heart, that will make me happy. I am not a replacement... just as you are not a replacement for your father."
Harry looked at him with a flash of recognition, remembering the time Sirius, jokingly, had called him "James" by accident. The guilt he had felt then, the silent anger... it all came back.
"But you are also the memory they left me," Sirius continued, with a smile full of nostalgia. "You are my connection to them. Even before you were born, I was the most excited to meet you. And every day I spent in that damned place... I only thought about seeing you again. About hearing you call me 'Uncle Canuto'."
Harry stared at him, his face soaked with tears.
"And I do not know if I have told you before, but I am very proud of what you are now. No matter what happens. And I know your father would be even prouder than I am. After all," he said with a light laugh, "although he would not want to admit it, he was just like me."
Harry opened his eyes in surprise. For a moment something changed in the air. Behind Sirius, a translucent figure seemed to materialize briefly, a tall, blurred silhouette that radiated a familiar warmth. He could not see the face, but he could feel the smile.
That was enough to make Harry's tears overflow. The boy who had always contained his emotions, who always kept his calm, finally allowed himself to cry.
Sirius hugged him tightly, saying nothing, with a serene and proud smile.
It was as if that hug completed something that had been broken for years.
Harry had seen his mother, Lily, that time Wanda touched the Resurrection Stone. But he had never seen his father. He never understood why. He had always wanted to know, but the stone never worked again. The only thing he had left of James were the stories of Sirius and Lupin... and somehow, that was enough.
However, a question persisted in his mind: would his father really be proud of him? From everything he heard, James did not seem like a bad man, but someone impulsive, a bully... someone who lived a very different life than his. Harry, on the other hand, had become more like his mother... and had ended up in Ravenclaw, not in Gryffindor, like his father, like his grandfather, like his godfather.
And if he did not show up because he was disappointed in him? It was a question that sometimes formed in his mind.
And yet, he wanted someone to remember him.
Perhaps that was why he could not completely hate Peter, not even after everything. Because he was another thread that tied him to his father, one of the few connections he had left to James. And losing him would be like losing another piece of himself, someone who still remembered him fully as he was.
After a few seconds, when Harry managed to calm down, Sirius spoke in a different tone, almost teasing.
"Well... I have never seen you cry. Turns out I can reach people's hearts when I want. I am not just a jester, huh?" he said with a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood.
Harry rolled his eyes, wiping his tears.
"If Mom finds out you made me cry, she will give you a beating," he said dryly.
Sirius's face changed completely. "Wait, what? No, no, do not tell her that, Harry..."
His godfather's desperate attempt provoked a small laugh in the boy.
"Godfather," he finally said, now calmer, "I want to find Peter. For some reason, he is looking for me... and I do not know what he intends. But before anyone hurts him, I want to see him. I want to clear a doubt. And after that..."
His eyes turned cold, calm, without a trace of visible emotion.
"Then I'll hand him over to the dementors. And if they want to devour his soul right there, I'll let them."
Sirius, far from getting angry or trying to stop him, looked at him with pride.
"Of course," he replied naturally. "If you need help, you know you can count on me."
Harry nodded, a faint, almost imperceptible smile forming on his lips—one that said more than words ever could.
"Always."
And in a flash of red energy, his body disintegrated into glowing particles that floated in the air before vanishing completely.
Sirius blinked, surprised for a moment, staring at the spot where his godson had been seconds before. Then he smiled calmly and let out a soft sigh.
"Yeah… you're definitely his son," he murmured fondly before collapsing back into the armchair, watching the fire dance in silence.
That power… it was the same one Wanda had shown before. In comparison, magical apparition was nothing but a cheap trick. Sirius knew it well: Harry had inherited part of his mother's gifts, and even if it was only a fraction, it was enough to make him an unstoppable force.
Even with barely ten percent of Wanda Maximoff's power, that boy would be a monster among wizards.
And the thought made Sirius smile with almost paternal pride.
"Lily chose the best person that could ever exist to be her son's mother," he murmured with a lopsided smile—a mix of tenderness and mischief. "Not even the world itself could withstand the day someone tries to hurt him… if anyone could even manage it."
That smile turned more devious. "Although he does seem to have some emotional issues. Maybe it's the hormones. I should introduce him to a few gi—"
Sirius went completely still. His entire body froze.
Not a single muscle responded.
He suddenly felt a gaze burning into the back of his neck.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small figure floating near his face: a tiny fairy in a bright red dress, holding a coiled snake in her arms. Both were staring straight at him with the air of judge and executioner.
Sirius swallowed hard.
And then, he heard soft footsteps behind him.
Every hair on his neck stood on end instantly. That kind of presence could only belong to one person.
"Selene told me what you did, so I came to find you," said a familiar, dangerously calm female voice. "But when I saw Harry talking to you so openly… and that you even managed to help him, I thought maybe I could forgive your punishment."
Sirius slowly closed his eyes, holding his breath.
The voice continued:
"But it seems that won't be the case."
Wanda stood right behind him, arms crossed, her gaze more intimidating than any human could endure.
Of course. She had arrived at the exact same time as Harry but had remained hidden the whole time, watching. That was also the real reason Sirius had panicked when he felt the red flash earlier: he thought Wanda had found out—and he was right.
However, she had waited. She wanted to see how Sirius behaved with her son. When she saw him speak sincerely, when she noticed he let go of his fool's mask and showed the heart he hid, she thought maybe he had earned a reprieve.
But, unfortunately, Sirius always found a way to ruin it at the very end.
Terra, the fairy, was still floating proudly beside Wanda with Dee in her arms, as if expecting praise. The witch sighed and gently patted both of their heads affectionately.
"Good job, little ones," she murmured before sending them back to Hogwarts with a wave of her hand.
Sirius felt the spell that had immobilized him dissolve. He moved his fingers first, then his shoulders, and finally turned slowly to face her. His expression was pure resignation, paired with a smile that clearly said: I know what's coming.
"Being locked up like I was is trivial," Sirius said bluntly. "That man doesn't deserve that mercy. He deserves death. I was going to do it, believe me. But then I heard what he said. That's the only reason he's still alive. Harry needed to hear it for himself."
Wanda's eyes were intense, cold, and deep—enough to make any other wizard tremble.
"You know it, don't you?" Sirius asked calmly, holding her gaze.
"I just saw it," Wanda replied, pointing a finger at her own head, her expression serious but with a flicker of concern she couldn't quite hide.
Sirius knew she wasn't truly angry; she was scared.
Wanda sighed and seemed about to leave, but he spoke before she could.
"I'm his godfather, Wanda," he said firmly. "I want what's best for him too. You can't hide everything from him. You can't keep trying to make him suppress his emotions as if they were a danger. I know what you're trying to protect him from, but you have to trust him more. Trust in him… and in how you raised him."
Wanda stopped. Her eyes glimmered with an emotion Sirius hadn't seen in her since the day they met.
"It's precisely because I raised him that I fear for him," she replied softly, almost brokenly. "I'm not perfect either. Sometimes I can't even control my own emotions. What if he gets hurt? What if… he loses control?"
Sirius took a step toward her, offering a calm, honest smile.
"Then you'll be there. I'll be there. We all will. Remember… you had no one when you needed help—not even those so-called friends who claimed to care about you. But now you have us. And you need to accept that, once and for all. We'll be here for you and for Harry. Even if one day you both become demons who want to destroy the world."
Wanda looked at him silently. For a moment, her gaze was serious, but then it softened.
"That tone doesn't suit you," she said finally, referring to his heroic speech. A fleeting smile crossed her lips before her body faded into the air, leaving behind a trail of glowing red light—just like her son.
Sirius stood still for a few seconds, processing what had just happened. Then he let out a long sigh and dropped back into the armchair.
"Wow… I'm actually amazing. And I got out of punishment," he muttered with a nervous grin, letting out a relieved laugh. "That was fast. If I hadn't thought so quickly, I'd have ended up sleeping in dog form again… and not the fun kind."