Chapter Text
Black smoke sputters out of the bike’s exhaust as Sirius Black parks on the dark, empty road. In the silence of the night, all he hears is his own pulse. Loud and clear alongside his ragged breathing.
The hole blown through the upper floor speaks for itself — it’s Harry’s room, Sirius notes, stomach twisting.
This is all his fucking fault, if he’d just have-
He shakes his head. No time.
Rushing over to the Potter's cottage, he throws the door open, eyes frantically flicking from side to side, searching for any sign of his friends. Heart pounding hard in his chest, he deems the ground floor uninhabited and takes the stairs two at a time.
At the sight of his best friends body, lying motionless on the floor Sirius freezes.
He’s thinking about everything and nothing all at the same time. His hands— shaking uncontrollably— are the only part of him that will move.
It’s at this point that Sirius Black decides he’s going to kill Peter Pettigrew.
He’s more than prepared to do it, to go through with killing a man he’s considered to be one of his closest friends up until a few hours ago, without remorse. He won’t use the killing curse, that would be way too merciful. Peter Pettigrew doesn’t deserve mercy.
Then, he hears crying.
He doesn’t dare to hope, hastily stepping over James’ body with his eyes closed tight, unable to breathe with his ribs feeling like individual snakes constricting his lungs. Entering the room at the end of the hallway, the first thing he notices is the large hole blown in the roof which he’d seen from outside. Then he looks around the room, barely processing Lily’s body, having already become numb at the sight of James’ and instead being instantly drawn to the only living thing in the room.
Harry is stood in his crib, crying. If it’s possible, Sirius’ heart breaks even more at the sight but, at the same time, he’s filled with immense relief.
His godson is okay. He has no idea how, but he is, and Sirius leans over the crib, cupping Harry’s chubby cheeks in his hands and wiping away the tears with the pads of his thumbs. A silence settles around them as Harry’s cries turn to hiccups once he recognises Sirius. Wide green eyes blink up at him and Sirius pushes the wild mop of black hair from his forehead.
Cocking his head and furrowing his brows, Sirius traces the fresh pink scar that runs from Harry’s hairline to just above his right eye. It’s spiky and jagged and it makes Sirius think of thunderstorms during full moons. Nights spent with Remus.
A smile full of sadness plays on his lips as he lifts Harry out of his crib, holding him tightly in his still shaking hands - he’d survived an encounter with Voldemort when his parents hadn’t, there would be time to worry about oddly shaped scars that hadn’t been there before at a later date.
Sirius finally leaves the house with baby Harry held tightly against his chest, as the cold air hits him so does reality and a sob wracks his whole body. When a much louder sob rings out in return, he looks around in shock, eyes quickly falling upon the figure of the half giant, impossible to miss even in the dim light of the street lamps.
Hagrid towers above him, but Sirius finds it difficult to feel intimidated, if not because of how well he knows the man but because of how he’s currently taking out a handkerchief to blow his nose, still continuing to sob.
“Is it really true?” He chokes out as he approaches Sirius. “Lily and James, t-they’re gone?”
It takes him a second to react but Sirius nods, a sharp jerk of his chin, causing Hagrid to let out a sob louder than any previous. A light flickers on somewhere down the street and Sirius is reminded very suddenly that Godric's Hollow is home to wizards, witches and Muggles. So, for once in his life, Sirius Black does something out of common sense. Wand gripped in his right hand, he mutters muffliato under his breath as well as casting a disillusionment charm on the both of them. He doesn’t feel like potentially gaining an audience for whatever conversation is about to ensue.
“Why are you here, Hagrid?” Sirius asks as Hagrid approaches him.
“Professor Dumbledore sen’ me, I’ve been given the job of collectin’ Harry.”
“What the fuck does Dumbledore want with him?”
“To take ‘im to a safe place, o’course.” Hagrid says as if it’s obvious.
“He’s perfectly safe with me.” Hagrid’s only doing what he was told to and usually Sirius would feel bad for shouting at him, but right now all he cares about is taking Harry somewhere safer than the middle of the street.
His old headmaster may be - debatably - the greatest wizard alive, but that doesn’t mean Sirius trusts him with anything , let alone his godson.
“But Dumbledore told me-”
“I don’t give a damn what Albus told you!” Sirius interrupts, not particularly caring what Dumbledore thinks. “Where does he want to take him?”
Hagrid looks around warily, but he then seems to remember Sirius cast the muffling charm around them. Even if anyone was watching from the shadows they wouldn't be able to make out what he was saying.
“I’m sorry I can’ tell ya more, I really am, but ya see Dumbledore didn’ tell me much himself. All I know is tha’ I’m to take young Harry here to this place in Surrey for tomorrow night.”
Sirius narrows his eyes at the half giant in front of him, instantly wracking his brain for any piece of information related to Surrey that could tell him exactly why Dumbledore wanted Hagrid to take Harry there.
Wait.
Didn’t Lily mention her sister lived in Surrey?
“No.” He spits, voice full of venom.
“No?” Hagrid echo’s, sounding more confused than anything.
“They can’t have him, he’s rightfully mine,” the tone in his voice is threatening and he makes sure he’s holding Harry securely on his left hip before raising the wand already gripped tightly in his right hand. “I’m sorry Hagrid, but if you try to stop me I will stop you.”
Despite the tears continuing to fall from Hagrid’s beetle black eyes Sirius can’t find it within him to feel guilty. Harry is his only priority right now, he couldn’t save James and Lily but he can save Harry.
Remus will help, of course Remus will help.
He’ll tell Sirius that he’s stupid for deciding he can trust him without question but he’ll do it with the same fondness he always does when Sirius does something stupid. Remus is all he’s got left, really, and he can’t bare to entertain the possibility that he could be just as traitorous as Wormtail.
They couldn’t trust Peter, he knows that now, hindsight being the wonderful thing that it is. There’d always been something off about him, but he’d pushed it to the back of his mind, told Lily and James to choose Peter as their secret keeper over him, because he thought it’d be for the best .
None of this matters right now though; the most important thing is getting Harry safe.
Still facing Hagrid, he takes careful steps backwards towards his bike, wand still raised and more than willing to cast a stunning spell if he needs to. He’s almost certain a stunning spell wouldn’t work on the half giant but he’s sure he could think of something that would work.
Placing Harry in the side car, he casts a protego over the open section, making sure there’s no way he can fall out during the journey back. When Sirius looks up from securing the baby, Hagrid is gone. He knows this won’t be the end of it, if Dumbledore has a plan for Harry then god knows the man’s going to do his best to follow through with it, but for now he’s got Harry and he’d like to try and see Dumbledore take him from him.
***
Sirius isn’t sure how long he’s been staring at the same stain on his kitchen tiles, it might’ve been minutes or it very well may have been hours, but what he does know is that a crack sounds through the house and his view is very suddenly obscured by violently purple robes.
Grip tightening on the wand he hasn’t put down since he’d gotten back the previous night, he looks up to see both a witch and a wizard standing just a few metres from him.
“Minerva,” Sirius greets the witch first, a signature grin being forced onto his lips in a desperate attempt to act as if this isn’t any different to any other time he’d seen his old professors.
Instead of replying, Mcgonagall gives Sirius a curt nod, the look in her eyes something akin to pity as she takes in his dishevelled appearance.
He doesn’t like the look one bit and quickly turns to Dumbledore instead, who can always be trusted to look much happier than the situation calls for.
Dumbledore however, looks rather sad.
“Albus,” he says, trying to sound like his usual, enthusiastic self but falling short as his voice sounds dull and lifeless even to his own ears. “May I ask what brings you to my humble abode and how exactly you got past the wards Remus put up last night?”
“Oh, I think we’re both aware of the reason for my visit, Sirius,” Dumbledore replies politely as he takes a seat at the small dining table, “and as for the wards, well they’re simply ineffective if one already knows where the place is.”
“You’re not taking him away,” Sirius had intended to sound stern but his statement comes out as more of a desperate plea than anything.
“You must understand, it’s for the best,” Dumbledore says, the authority in his voice is clear but Sirius refuses to back down.
“You can’t expect me to let you give him away t-to those absolute monsters! Lily and James are dead are you’re going to disrespect them like this?”
“I have to agree with Mr. Black. They’re the worst kind of Muggles, Albus,” Mcgonagall adds defiantly.
“Yes, yes, as you’ve told me, Minerva.” Dumbledore waves his hand at her dismissively.
Mcgonagall throws him a defiant look at the dismissal but he ignores her, all attention now focused on Sirius.
“You can’t have him,” Sirius says as if repeating his point will actually made Dumbledore listen to him.
Although, much to his surprise, Dumbledore gives him a reproachful look. This only aids in irritating Sirius further.
"Do you think you could raise and love Harry as if he was your own family?" he asks curiously and Sirius' thin temper is already at its end, his old headmaster’s ridiculous questions too much for his current mental state.
"What sort of question is that? The Potter's are my family!" Sirius shouts, his eyes wild and a great contrast to Dumbledore, who still remains the epitome of calm.
Before either of them can say any more, a measured voices slices through the tension in the room. "I do find it rather odd for someone who doesn't believe in Pureblood ideologies to be putting so much emphasis on blood relatives."
Everyone turns to look at the new participant in the conversation. In the doorway to the living room stands Remus Lupin, looking even worse for wear than Sirius, Harry held securely in his arms.
"Your unnecessary shouting woke him up, Padfoot. Not that I'm surprised, you've never been able to handle things diplomatically,” Remus says, giving Sirius a pointed but affectionate look.
"I'm sure if Harry knew why I was shouting he'd understand, Albus here wants to give him to the Dursleys." Sirius crosses his arms defiantly.
"I do wish you wouldn't call me Albus."
"It's your first name, you seem insistent on referring to everyone else by theirs, it's only fair."
"If we could get back to the issue at hand, gentleman," Mcgonagall interrupts impatiently.
“Of course,” Remus replies, handing Harry over to Sirius before taking a seat opposite Dumbledore on the small round table.
“Remus,” Dumbledore greets, the politeness he’s held up through the whole conversation so far showing no hint of wavering.
“Headmaster Dumbledore,” Sirius rolls his eyes at Remus’ use of one of Dumbledore’s many titles. “You can’t possibly think the Dursleys are the best option for Harry."
“If the extent of my knowledge matched yours I would rather agree with you, however as it happens I am aware of something you both are not.”
“And would you care to enlighten us then?” Sirius snaps as Remus continues to regard Dumbledore with a guarded expression.
“I’m assuming you’ve both heard of Voldemort's defeat and the rumours circulating as to why and how this happened?” Dumbledore asks.
They both nod.
“Have either of you actually figured out how Harry managed to survive the killing curse?”
“No,” Remus says quietly whilst Sirius narrows his eyes at the old wizard.
It may not show in his speech, but the effect of yesterday's events show in his face, the way he holds himself, the sadness in his eyes and the way he holds himself isn’t new but it’s amplified tenfold. Sirius thinks he should reach out to touch him, but instead it’s Remus who puts a hand on his shoulder. He hates himself for it but he can’t do anything about it, not right now.
Despite their different verbal approaches Remus and Sirius’ gazes are similar in levels of animosity as they wait for an explanation. As Dumbledore looks between the two young men something in his expression softens and before continuing he pulls a handful of sherbet lemons from his pocket, unwrapping one and placing it in his mouth before offering one to the two men opposite him. Remus declines politely but Sirius’ eye twitches as he turns away and presses his lips together in an attempt not to say anything.
As Dumbledore continues to observe the reactions of the men in front of him the signature twinkle in his eyes that had been absent since his arrival seems to reignite and he smiles as if to himself.
“Actually,” he begins and Sirius goes back to glaring at him. “Don’t worry, I seem to have misjudged the situation. I think the two of you will be perfectly adequate to raise Harry.”
Sirius snorts. “As if you actually had a say in the first place.”
Remus gives him a warning look a Sirius huffs.
“Are we done here? Because I’d quite like to go back to bed.”
No one comments on the fact he clearly hadn’t been in bed in the first place.
“Not just yet, I have a few conditions that go along with allowing you to raise Harry.”
“ Allowing?” Sirius cries, once again disturbing Harry who had fallen asleep again some time between when Remus had handed him over to now. “Last time I checked I’m his legal guardian, who said you were allowed a say in the matter?”
Rising from his chair, Remus uses himself to obscure Sirius’ view of the other people in the room. He places one hand on his chest and uses the other to make him look at him.
“I think we should listen to him, he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t think it was important,” Remus whispers, only creating the illusion of a private conversation as the room is so quiet you’d be able to hear a pin drop.
The anger doesn’t leave Sirius’ gaze but the fight does and he gives a sharp nod of reluctant agreement, making a conscious effort to even out his breathing. Remus sits down once again and Sirius pulls out another chair to join the other two men at the now crowded table. Professor Mcgonagall remains standing, overseeing the conversation with her cat like gaze, seemingly satisfied that The Boy Who Lived is no longer going to live with Muggles.