Truth Imprisoned

Author's Note: Thank you for the two reviews. I always love getting reviews and giving me them might encourage me to write faster. . .

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Harry woke with a cry. The dream was still vivid in his mind, images floating across his consciousness in a stream he didn't want to think about. He sat up in bed, looking around at the bedroom that was only just becoming familiar.

"Harry?" There was a soft knocking on his door. "Harry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Sirius," Harry replied, "it was just a dream."

"Another Voldemort nightmare?"

"Yeah," Harry lied, "yeah that's right." He lay down again, hearing Sirius' footsteps retreat along the corridor. He shifted position, glad that the bed was big enough for him to avoid the wet patch he'd just made.

Ever since the conversation with Sirius on the first night here, he'd been thinkingut tut things he'd rather not. Sirius was his godfather! Harry's mind was filled with disturbing images that, despite his best attempts, aroused him. Sirius was his dad's best friend. He wasn't someone Harry should be thinking about in this way. Still, there was an image his mind kept conjuring up of Sirius stripped naked, bound spread-eagled on a bed. Only sometimes, it was Harry who was tied, completely at Sirius' mercy, ready to be. . .

No. No! NO! He was not going to think about that. It was just wrong. And weird. And wrong!

Harry closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind. Tried to think of anything else. Tried to get rid of the erection that had started the instant his mind called up those images. Despite his best efforts, it was a long while before he managed to fall asleep.

He was still feeling groggy and half-asleep when he joined Sirius in the dining room for breakfast.

"Are you alright?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied, "I just didn't sleep too well." It wasn't exactly a lie after all.

"I heard you say my name."

Harry didn't think he could have said much out loud, remembering the dream. "I was dreaming about the time Voldemort got into my head," he lied, "and made me think he was torturing you. Only this time, in the dream, it wasn't a lie." It was a dream he'd had often enough for Sirius to believe him. Sirius reached out a hand to Harry's shoulder.

"I'm not going to leave you, Harry," he said, "You don't have to be afraid of that. I'm never going to leave you."

"I know. They're just dreams. I expect I'll spend the rest of my life having them."

"They'll get less frequent," Sirius said, "and less significant. You just have to put up with them. At least the real danger's gone now." Harry nodded, but secretly felt there was another danger Sirius didn't even know existed.

"You still OK for a shopping trip?" Sirius asked.

"Always," Harry replied, "but I'm not letting you out of my sight. I don't trust you not to spend another hundred galleons."

"You've got to give me some time alone. It's your birthday soon."

"You don't think a mansion is enough of a birthday present?"

"Of course not," Sirius grinned.

"What am I going to do with you?" Harry shook his head.

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Diagon Alley was as crowded as ever and Harry and Sirius spent several hours there. They bought a few books to add to Harry's bookshelves, some more robes since the only ones he owned were dress robes and his Hogwarts uniform, various odds and ends for the party they were planning, and of course a new wand for Sirius. His old one had been destroyed by the Ministry when he was sent to Askaban. There was also one shop Harry had to go into.

"Harry! Good to see you!" Harry was pulled into a hug by one of the Weasley twins the second he stepped through the door. Harry thought it was Fred, but he could never be sure.

"Hi," Harry said, "we were shopping and we thought we'd stop by. How's business?"

"Great," the twin said, "We've just opened up another branch. George is there while we get the new staff trained up." So Harry had been right about the name. "We're trying to get some more people in full time, but it's taking a while to go through all the applications." Something about the way he said that made Harry think that they weren't actually getting any. "For the moment we're having to put up with a temp. He's very good about dealing with customers, but he is hopeless when it comes to testing new products."

"Like I'm going eat anything you give me." Ron had emerged from the back room of the shop. Harry grinned widely on seeing him.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"It would be better if the twins would stop slipping things into my food. I'd be developing fairly Moody-like precautions but I can't find a hip flask."

"Why don't I leave you two to chat," Sirius said, "while I go look for birthday presents?"

"Because I don't trust you when it comes to spending money," Harry answered. Sirius just gave a little wave and left the shop.

"What's he done now?" Ron asked, "Bought you another hundred galleon broom?"

"You'll understand when you see the house he bought for us. We'll be sending out invitations for the house warming in a couple of days. You will be coming?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Ron took Harry into the back of the shop. A single room appeared to be a kitchen, lounge, factory, storage room and testing area rolled into one. Harry put down his shopping bags with relief and joined Ron at the central table.

"How long are you working here for?" Harry asked.

"Oh, just a couple more weeks. I'm looking for a more permanent job." Ron's ears went slightly pink, a sure sign that he was nervous about something, clearly Harry's reaction to what he said next. "I'm thinking of applying for the Dark Arts job at Hogwarts."

"Are you nuts?" Harry barely kept his tone down from a shout, "Ron, please tell me you're joking. I like you the shape you are now, and not to mention breathing."

"It'd be safer than working for Fred and George."

Harry thought for a moment. "Maybe. But it's still too dangerous. Let's think about this. We had seven Dark Arts teachers. Two are dead, two are locked up in St Mungo's, one was locked in a trunk and one was turned into a lamp."

"McGonagall's managed to transfigure Professor Hewitt back to normal now."

"Please, apply for a safer job. Juggling blast ended skewts maybe." Ron managed a laugh at that.

"After all we've been through, Harry, surely teaching a load of kids can't be any more dangerous than fighting Vo. . . Voldemort." Ron still stammered over the name. Three years of Hermione coaxing him into saying it and he struggled even now Voldemort was dead.

"That all depends on whether any of them have heard the legend of the Weasley twins and want to follow their example."

Ron clearly didn't want to hear any more of Harry's protests and persuasions, as he quickly changed the subject: "You seen Hermione recently?"

"Not for a while," Harry replied, "but I got an owl when she was accepted to the Ministry."

"I've not heard from her since then either," Ron commented, "she's probably too busy working herself to death. Do you think she'll tell us what she's working on?"

"Hermione? Not a chance!" Hermione had started work about a month previously in the Department of Mysteries. The work that went on there wasn't meant to be discussed with anyone outside the department and Hermione was not the sort to bend the rules, not even for overly curious friends.

They talked for quite a while, until Fred came in and told Ron that he'd used up all his lunch breaks for the next week. Ron muttered something about not having poison slipped into his lunch if that was the case.

Harry left Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and set off in search of Sirius. He found him quickly enough, but Sirius was now carrying several more bags and packages than before. His look of pure innocence didn't fool Harry in the slightest. Harry's icioicions were confirmed when Sirius smuggled away about half of what he was carrying when they got back to the house. How was Harry going to convince Sirius he was happy with the fact that Sirius was there, and he didn't need a fortune spending on him each birthday?

They spent a cheerful evening with Harry trying on the new clothes Sirius had insisted on buying him and then lounging in the pool. Sirius was content to lie on a sunbed in front of the huge windows, but Harry made certain to stay in the water, preferably out of the sunlight where the water was colder. The sight of Sirius stretched out, wearing nothing but a pair of tight swimming trunks was sending Harry's blood somewhere it was better off not going.

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Sirius returned to his room to change out of his trunks, walking slightly awkwardly. He'd had to sit out of the pool because moving too much was getting a little painful. Once the door was safely locked, he shed his trunks and untied the leather straps that had been holding his erection down. It was a good job he'd considered this precaution, since he had no desire for Harry to see the effect of seeing him in nothing but swimming trunks, his wet hair plastered down above piercing green eyes.

It didn't take Sirius long tong hng himself to completion keeping that image in his mind. It was sick and wrong, he knew it, but he couldn't stop thinking about Harry this way. He couldn't bear to imagine what James would say, if he knew that Sirius was lusting after his son. He couldn't bear to think of what Harry would say if he knew. Certainly, Harry wouldn't want to stay in the same house as Sirius.

Sirius tried not to think about it. He'd tried, but somehow a sideways glance or one of Harry's brilliant smiles would send blood rushing straight down to Sirius' groin. He needed to do something. There had to be some way for him to get this out of his system.

He went to his desk and began to write a letter.

"Harry, do you mind if I borrow Hedwig?" he asked next day at breakfast.

"Sure," Harry replied, "you don't even need to ask." He didn't even ask who it was Sirius was writing to. Ever the generous one. Siriuselinelings of pride at that thought were as fatherly as they should have been. This was the way things should be between them. The way Sirius hoped to make them.

He sent off his letter straight after breakfast and they spent the morning planning the party. They'd agreed to make it a joint celebration of Harry's birthday and their moving in. They designed the invitations and magically replicated them, discussed whether to have a sit down meal or just a food table, considered decorations and ran down the final list of guests. All in all, it was fairly exhausting work and definitely enjoyable.

Sirius had been slightly distracted though. He kept glancing at the windows, half expecting Hedwig to come flying in. Harry probably noticed, but he didn't say anything, for which Sirius was extremely grateful. If Harry asked, Sirius might have to lie and he would rather do anything other than lie to his godson.

Fortunately, Hedwig didn't return until Harry had left. He'd offered to take the bulk of the invitations to the nearest wizard post office, since thwerewere rather a lot for Hedwig to manage on her own. She'd take Ron and Hermione's, since Harry had written fairly substantial letters to go with them. Sirius couldn't think what Harry could possibly have to say to Ron that would take up so much parchment since the two had met only the day before. Still, they were Harry's friends and Harry's business.

Sirius was waiting in the lounge, reading one of the new books, when the owl flew in and landed on the arm of his air. He detached the tiny piece of parchment, stroking Hedwig's feathers absently. It took him a long time to find the courage to open the letter. It had been a long time since he'd asked for this. Things might have changed.

Finally he unfolded the parchment and read the single word: yes.

He breathed a sigh of relief, but felt his heart begin to beat faster with the anticipation. It had been a long time and, hopefully, this would end all his lustful, twisted feelings for Harry. He burned the note to nothing with a quick tap of his wand. Harry would never know. Would never even suspect.

Sirius quickly went and got what he needed from Harry's room, then sat in the lounge to wait. He had the book out and was attempting to read, but never managed to get onto the next sentence. His thoughts were completely focused on what was coming.

Another good time splashing around in the pool had Sirius' heart dancing inside him and it took all of his effort not to show Harry what he was feeling. Fortunately they didn't stay in there for long. Harry wanted to try out the quiddich hoops over the lawn and Sirius was able to push his feelings and the growing anticipation from his mind.

The game they played didn't seem to have any rules. They might be passing the ball to each other one minute and the next trying to defend the goal posts from the other. Sirius had never been as good a flier as James, but he could still put up a good fight against Harry. He was always better with a bat than a quaffle though, but the two of them could hardly have a proper game. Maybe when Moony and the Weasleys came they'd play for real. Sirius just hoped Harry had told Ron to bring his broom.

Sirius was unable to settle down to do anything after dinner, but was determined not to let Harry know. He shut himself in his room and resorted to pacing since his racing heart wouldn't let him sit still. The anticipation was steadily growing and with it came the nervousness. He kept glancing at the clock, certain that it must be broken. Time couldn't be going this slowly. As it finally grew dark outside he went past nervous to worried. There was no sign of Harry going to bed.

He kept telling himself that there was plenty of time, but he couldn't help the fear clenching his gut. Everything depended on Harry never finding out about this. If he ever knew what Sirius was hoping to do, Harry would never forgive him.

At last, as midnight came and went, Sirius heard someone come up the stairs. Because Harry had an en suite, Sirius wouldn't know when Harry made his final preparations fod. Hd. He kept looking out of his room and down the corridor towards Harry's, but the light was shining from beneath the door and sounds were coming from within. Sirius was beginning to despair, and his pacing wear the floor so thin he was in danger of plummeting into the room below. Then, finally, Harry's light went out.

Sirius continued his nervous pacing for a long while, needing to be certain that Harry had gone to sleep. Then at last, at almost one, he crept down the stairs. He waited in the hall, pacing still. His heart was racing so fast that it might burst out at any minute and his stomach was tangled into knots.

The grandfather clock in the corner struck a single chime. One o'clock. He hadn't come. He'd changed his mind. This wasn't going to work after all. Sirius wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Then there was a soft tap on the door.

It took several deep breaths for him to gather up the courage to open the door. This was it. If he opened the door now he was trapped into a path that could only lead to one destination. James would have hated him for this, Harry would never forgive him if he ever found out.

Sirius opened the door.

A cloaked figure stood outside, a hood covering his face. Sirius stepped aside to let him come in and closed the door silently behind him. It was done. His stomach relaxed slightly. Now there was no choice of what to do. He would have to go on.

"Did you bring it?" Sirius asked in a whisper. He wasn't sure which answer he would prefer. The man didn't answer. Instead his hand emerged from beneath his dark cloak, clutching tightly a small bottle.

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Author's note: What do you think so far? Intrigued? Please review.