Disclaimers: Everyone here belongs to J. K. Rowling.
by Lesa Soja
Ron and Molly leave Arthur pale, but sleeping, and return to Grimmauld Place in a sober mood. It's getting dark, and the Underground's crowded with Muggles. They find seats together but ride in silence.
In the kitchen, they find Harry curled up in Sirius's lap. Or nearly so - Harry's sitting on the bench, but he's turned in sideways, knees crooked up, thighs crossing Sirius's. Sirius is staring at the fire, Harry at the floor.
Ron thinks Harry's a bit old for that sort of thing. Molly thinks he's far too young. Neither of them makes a move to stop it.