Disclaimer: All characters belong to Ms. Rowling.

Of Birds and Chipmunks

By Princess Kate

Sirius Black considered himself to be a brave man. He had survived pain and torture, death and fates worse than death, Dementors and Professor Binn’s History of Magic Lectures. He would not be boasting when he said he felt himself ready to face most anything fate could pull out on him.

Most anything.

One of the toughest challenges Sirius had ever found himself facing was the task of making sure that his godson Harry lived past the age of sixteen, a much harder task that it first appeared to be. In the two years that Sirius had been in contact with him, he had nearly been bitten by a werewolf, come that close to having his soul sucked out of his body, fought dragons, had been used in a plot to bring an evil lord back to power, and then fought this wizard in wand to wand combat.

As you might have guessed, Harry was not quite your ordinary boy.

Just ordinary enough, though, Sirius grimaced as he made his way up to the Gryffindor Common Room one rainy Saturday afternoon. He very much enjoyed being back at Hogwarts for a even a short time, even if was it the capacity of a convicted murderer seeking political immunity in the only establishment that would take him. Some things, though, he felt quite sure he could live without.

He gave the password to the Fat Lady, who looked him over suspiciously but could hardly deny him entrance, and scrambled through the hole in the wall, which seemed much higher up than he remembered it being in his school days here. Perhaps they had moved it up for some reason.

The Common Room was nearly empty, besides from the Weasley twins cackling evilly over some plans of sort in a corner, and Harry, who was sitting near the fire doing his Defence Against the Dark Arts homework. When he saw Sirius, however, he cast it aside and gave his godfather a big grin, "Hi, Sirius. What’re you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you," he answered, squirming uncomfortably. God, it seemed hot in here, "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

Harry grinned, "Hermione’s in the library. Ron probably is, too. Don’t know but he’s seemed a lot more interested in studying this year."

"I’m sure he’s really applying himself," grinned Sirius, "What are you working on?"

"Defence. It was pretty boring, though. I’d much rather talk to you. What did you want to see me about?"

"Er- yeah, I was going to get to that," Sirius said, sitting down and wishing for a moment that he were anywhere else but here.

Why couldn’t McGonagall have done it herself, instead of giving him those cryptic hints about how Harry hadn’t the benifit of a father to tell him things like this, hinting that Sirius should be the one to step into that role… Looking at Harry, he seemed so innocent. Only fifteen, after all. He himself hadn’t begun to get seriously interested in girls until he was at least…

Damn it. He was in serious trouble.

"I’ll get you for this, James," he muttered, "Going off and dying and leaving all the hard stuff to me…"

"Pardon?" asked Harry, looking slightly alarmed.

"Er- nothing. I mean, yes, something. But not that. What I mean to say is…"

Harry now looked very alarmed. Not used to having his usually composed godfather babbling like an idiot, he supposed. He might as well get it over with…

"You see, Harry, er, well, when a man, um, loves a…"

"Chipmunk?" piped George Weasley from the corner.

Fred grinned, "I just love chipmunks, don’t you, Harry?"

"Chipmunks?" asked Harry, looking horribly confused.

"Go away," growled Sirius, "Can’t you see we’re trying to have a private conversation here?"

"Trying is the key word in that sentence," grinned Fred.

"Could you please leave?"

George shrugged and grabbed his book bag, "We were only trying to help."

"Some people," sighed Fred, starting slowly up the stairs, "Well, have fun."

Sirius gave them one last glower and turned back to Harry, "What I was trying to say was, er, that when a man loves a chipmunk- er- woman- I mean, oh, damn it…"

~ * ~

A half an hour later, a very red-faced Sirius Black stumbled out in the hall outside the Gryffindor Common Room, chalking back the past discussion as one of the worst possibly in his life. It was bad enough without chipmunks popping unasked into the conversation every few minutes. He had probably scarred the child for life.

"Sirius!" cried a voice from down the hall, which he recognised as the stern yet concerned voice of his old Transfiguration

Professor, "Are you quite all right?"

"I’m fine," he said, managing to get composure over himself, "I was just in to talk to Harry like you asked me to…"

"Oh," said McGonagall, still sizing him up as if she weren’t sure whether or not she should force him to nurse’s office, "Well, I'm assuming that you and Harry are clear on the point, now?"

"More or less."

She nodded and motioned for him to walk with her down the hall, "You will be giving him a more complete demonstration outside tomorrow, then? After all, he must see how it works for himself, or he’ll never get it."

"Excuse me?" asked Sirius, quite horrified.

McGonagall looked at him with a hint of amusement in her eyes, "I know that you and James were naturals at it, but Harry’s so young, he could seriously hurt himself if he attempted to do the Llywarch Maneuver without any prior instruction…"

"The Llywarch Maneuver? As in Quidditch?" asked Sirius faintly.

"Why, yes," McGonagall answered, looking as if she were about ready to take him to Madame Pomfrey's office immediately, no matter how big of a fuss he put up, "Isn’t that we’re talking about?"

"Er- yeah. Of course."

Of course.

The End