Chapter 27

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When Harry awoke the following morning, it took him a few moments to remember where he was. With a smile, he remembered: he was at Sirius', in the room that had been designated 'Harry's'.

Reaching out to the side table, he put his glasses on before hopping out of bed to pad across to the private bathroom that was attached to his room. By the time he'd come back out, showered, dressed and most importantly, awake, Harry was ready to face the day. Realising that it was still early, he had a look around his room.

At the moment, it was mostly barren. The old four-poster was in serious need of some fresh drapes. The dresser and side table had potential, once the muck and grime of past decades had been cleaned away. And that was it. Sirius and Remus had cleaned the room out and left it as, "a blank canvas, Pup. Yours to do with as you like. Think about it and let me know. Whatever furniture you want, we'll get. Pick a colour for the walls. If you want carpet or just a rug, we'll get that too."

As Harry's eyes swept the room, he altered it in his mind. A pair of tall bookshelves over there to either side of the window. A desk there. Maybe a small couch against that wall. The room was large and had plenty of potential. And an opportunity like this, a chance at not just his very own room but one that he could decorate himself, was not to be squandered. Or rushed into. He wanted it to be perfect.

-oOoOo-

"Morning, Pup, how'd you sleep," a cheery Sirius asked.

Harry smiled at his godfather sitting at the big kitchen table, a mug of coffee in one hand, his paper in the other.

"Really good, thanks, Sirius. You?" he replied.

"Like a baby. Help yourself to whatever you want for breakfast, there's plenty of food around."

After looking through the cold box and the pantry, Harry had the urge to show the adults what real cooking was all about. Especially after last night's debacle. And besides, cooking was something that he really did enjoy doing and wasn't something that he'd had the chance to do for a while.

Pulling out a frying pan, a half dozen eggs, a pack of bacon and some sausages, he set to work. While the meat was frying, he grabbed out a mixing bowl and began working on some batter for the pancakes that he planned.

"Please tell me you're not trying to cook again, Padfoot," Remus pleaded as he entered the kitchen.

"Nope and I don't think I'll be attempting that again while Harry's here. By the smell of things, we've just found our new chef," Sirius replied.

Harry grinned to himself as he continued working. Cooking for someone who was actually going to appreciate his efforts felt wonderful. Before too long, three plates of steaming breakfast were placed on the table. With great smacking of lips, Sirius in particular, dug in.

"This has got to be the best food I've eaten in a dozen years," he complimented.

"I'd have to agree with that," Remus said through a mouthful of food. "I've got no idea where you got this skill from, though. Neither your mum or your dad were any great shakes in the kitchen."

Harry ducked his head in embarrassment.

"What do you say we head over to Diagon Alley this morning and get our last minute Christmas shopping out of the way?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, that's be good, great idea," Harry replied.

"Right then, as soon as we're done here, we'll head off," Sirius declared.

-oOoOo-

Most of the morning that the three spent in Diagon Alley was spent together, although there were times when one would disappear by themselves, only to meet back up a short while later.

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