A Long Overdue Conversation

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The next morning, Harry couldn't turn his neck to the left. Was it annoying? Oh, very. But he didn't know how to fix it, because he wasn't sure how to retract his wings, they were too sore to sleep on his back, and he was not sleeping standing up like a fucking horse.

He woke up to the smell of bacon, which was almost enough for him to forget about his neck. Sighing, Harry slowly got out of bed, making sure to keep his wings down so he didn't knock anything over.

Going to his closet, he was about to pick out a shirt before he remembered that he had wings sprouting from his back and had no idea how to retract them, how could he put on a shirt? So, no, unfortunately his godparents would have to see him shirtless.

He opened the door to his room. Then, he looked at the doorframe. Then back to his wings, which twitched, and a feather fell down to the ground.

... How the fuck would he be able to leave the room? His wings were so sore that he didn't even want to tap them on anything, let alone drag them out of the doorway.

"You're going to make this complicated for me, aren't you?" Harry asked them, rhetorically. His voice was raspy from screaming the night before.

The wings twitched again.

Harry somehow managed to turn sideways and shuffle out of his room into the hallway without hitting his wings against the wall (like the game Operation), making his way to the kitchen.

When he reached the kitchen, he saw three figures sitting at the dining room table as pots and pans moved around magically, cooking a brunch.

The three figures included Sirius, who was sitting in a bathrobe and was sitting on the chair's armrest, Remus, who was straddling the back of his chair, and Tom, who had one leg draped over the armrest.

For fuck's sake, did none of them sit down properly?

Once Harry's eyes landed on Tom, though, they couldn't pull away. It was like he was suddenly breathing in fresh air, and his heart started beating fast. He felt his wings flutter. It was almost like there was a gravitational force pulling them together.

His body relaxed and a smile pulled at Harry's lips. There was a voice in his head that just said mate, mate, mate, and he was completely sure it wasn't his own voice. And he smelled so good, which was definitely a plus.

"Mate," Harry said, like an idiot.

Immediately, the trio turned around. Sirius and Remus greeted him normally, but Tom jumped out of his chair.

"Harry! Hey! Uh— shit, you— um... you look great."

"You do too," Harry said, because fuck, Tom looked amazing.

Tom frowned when he heard the raspiness of Harry's voice. "Is that from last night? Shit, I'll make you some tea, Harry, sit down."

While Tom rushed off to make tea, Harry eyes the chairs. They looked like they would hurt his sore wings if he sat down normally. So, he turned one of the chairs around and straddled it like Remus.

"Good morning," he greeted his godparents, yawning. "Anything interesting?"

"You're a fucking bird now, so that's cool."

"Sirius!"

"What, you're gonna look at me and say it isn't cool?"

Remus paused, his eyes sliding over Harry's wings. "No, it's cool," he admitted. "Just... do you remember our conversation about tact?"

Sirius huffed. "Ya. He's our godson, Moony. I'm sure he has less tact than even I do."

"That's true, I do."

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