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Title: Comparisons
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen/Angst
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Sirius doesn't compare Harry to James. Not anymore.
Author's Notes: This was written for the prompt 'Compare and Contrast' on my GenPrompt Bingo table.
They say he doesn’t know the difference. Not to his face, most of the time; they whisper it behind his back and imply it with their pitying glances. Azkaban ruined his mind, they say, tactfully forgetting that he wasn’t the sanest of people before they locked him up.
But there’s a difference between Sirius’ particular brand of crazy and the inability to identify his own godson. He knows that Harry is Harry and not James. He’s just guilty of comparing the two sometimes.
It’s not fair that he knew James and Harry didn’t. Maybe if Harry had known his father, he wouldn’t be as grim as he is. Colder and angrier and more sarcastic than James – spoilt and fun-loving – ever was. They look alike, sure, but Harry is thinner and paler, and shorter too in a way that makes Sirius grind his teeth and hope for a chance to meet Vernon Dursley in a dark alley.
Harry is nothing like James. He couldn’t help comparing them, and now that he has, he’s found them too different to ever compare again. No matter what the Order say when they think he’s not listening; or what Mrs Weasley does say when she wants the others to disregard Sirius’ opinion on Harry’s welfare in favour of her own. He doesn’t compare them at all.
He’s the only one now who doesn’t.
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen/Angst
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Sirius doesn't compare Harry to James. Not anymore.
Author's Notes: This was written for the prompt 'Compare and Contrast' on my GenPrompt Bingo table.
They say he doesn’t know the difference. Not to his face, most of the time; they whisper it behind his back and imply it with their pitying glances. Azkaban ruined his mind, they say, tactfully forgetting that he wasn’t the sanest of people before they locked him up.
But there’s a difference between Sirius’ particular brand of crazy and the inability to identify his own godson. He knows that Harry is Harry and not James. He’s just guilty of comparing the two sometimes.
It’s not fair that he knew James and Harry didn’t. Maybe if Harry had known his father, he wouldn’t be as grim as he is. Colder and angrier and more sarcastic than James – spoilt and fun-loving – ever was. They look alike, sure, but Harry is thinner and paler, and shorter too in a way that makes Sirius grind his teeth and hope for a chance to meet Vernon Dursley in a dark alley.
Harry is nothing like James. He couldn’t help comparing them, and now that he has, he’s found them too different to ever compare again. No matter what the Order say when they think he’s not listening; or what Mrs Weasley does say when she wants the others to disregard Sirius’ opinion on Harry’s welfare in favour of her own. He doesn’t compare them at all.
He’s the only one now who doesn’t.
