"They were everything a family should be," Sirius agreed. He remembered when he had first gotten there -- even though, by then, he had known how twisted his family was, and how wonderful James' was -- that he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. He'd waited for the Potters to realized that he was wicked or get tired of him, or need to punish him or something of the sort. But it was just like Sirilla had said -- they'd always loved him, no matter what he did. Which sure as hell wasn't to say that Mr. Potter hadn't given him a few lectures and Mrs. Potter hadn't reminded him to wipe his boots, or to please let her give him a haircut -- but they had always done it in the same way James had: It was because they loved him and they wanted to give him the opportunity to let the best parts of him shine through.
"Merlin, those cinnamon cookies that Mrs. Potter made at Christmas," Sirius groaned out loud just thinking about them. "Or the lemonade during the summertime. I could just drink that forever. Forget dinner."
Sirius squeezed her arm a little when she said that she didn't want him to go. When he had first arrived here, he had hated it. And even now, he was a little wary of what the scientists wanted with them. But --
"I'm scared to go back now," Sirius admitted, his voice a little quiet. Because he'd go back to where he had been. All that darkness.