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When it came to the Black family, Sirius was a rebel. So much so, that his mum—may she burn eternally—called him the “blood-traitor” of the family. For he refused to obey her ridiculous commands.
According to Regulus, the harpy had blasted him off the family tapestry for what she called “running away.” To this day, Sirius had always considered it “seeking sanctuary from the insanity of his mother and Grimmauld Place.”
The Potters—his best friend’s family—gave him sanctuary.
They sheltered, clothed, and loved him when his own family refused to acknowledge his existence.
Those few short years were the best of his life, until Jamie had kissed him for the first time. Sirius was so grateful she had; with everything the Potters had done for him, he never would have dared to ask for more, regardless of his feelings.
And now … now the world was trying to rip that hard-earned happiness away from him.
Sirius wouldn’t let it.
Fate could not have his son.
With Dumbledore’s words ringing in his ears, Sirius Apparated to Grimmauld Place. He hadn’t set foot inside since he had run away, but he knew Bellatrix would be there. His mother always had tea with Aunt Druella and cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa at this time on Saturdays.
“Ick—”
“I need to parley with the Dark Lord. Immediately,” Sirius interrupted. He didn’t have time for any delays. Dumbledore had said a spy overheard part of the prophecy. He wasn’t taking any chances with his family.
“I see you’ve finally seen reason, Sirius,” Walburga said, sounding smug.
Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed and she dropped the sing-song tone she used just to tease and annoy him. “As one of his Vassals, I accept your offer of parley.”
“Excellent. Now. There’s no time to waste, Bella.”
She stood quickly at the use of the childhood nickname he had abandoned years before. Then, before he could even ask where they were going — as if she would be foolish enough to tell him — Bellatrix grabbed his arm and Side-Along Apparated him.
“My Lord, my cousin Sirius has come to parley,” Bellatrix said, after letting go of Sirius and curtsying deeply.
“Has he?”
Sirius had never wished so much that he had murdered someone as he did when he saw Severus Snape standing before the Dark Lord’s desk with a smug, vicious smirk on his face. Of course Snivellus would target their children as revenge.
“Neutrality.”
The Dark Lord looked intrigued as he tapped his long fingers together. “Oh?”
“I offer a Vow of Neutrality on behalf of the Honorable and Most Ancient House of Potter and all of our Magically Bound Allies.”
Scarlet eyes widened the slightest bit. “In return for what?”
“A Vow of Neutrality from you personally, binding yourself and all your Vassals and Death Eaters and everyone who owes you allegiance in perpetuity, to never act against the Honorable and Most Ancient House of Potter or any of our Magically Bound Allies.”
The smirk that appeared on the Dark Lord’s face was cruel. “Would you really?”
“I’m not sacrificing my family over a change in government. Be High Lord. Be King. Hell, be Emperor if you want, just do it without destroying all your future potential subjects. A fourth of the Ancient Houses would be bound by my word. That’s a lot of opposition out of your way.”
Sirius squared his shoulders and met the Dark Lord’s stare head on.
“Prove you’re not a useless despot desperate to be a dictator.”
The Dark Lord stood and walked around his desk. He grabbed Sirius by the chin and smirked. “Your mother was wrong about you. You are worthy. You’ve just offered me more than everyone else who serves me ever has. I won’t forget that, Heir Potter. I accept your terms.”
Sirius bit the inside of his cheek as magic bound the agreement between them.
If Dumbledore wanted someone to fall on the sword of defeating the Dark Lord, no Potter or Longbottom would be his sacrifice.
“Go home to your wife, before she fears the worst.”
Sirius Disapparated.
He intended for them to stay safe, at Potter Manor, and let the Dark Lord finish his takeover. It might be callous, but he didn’t care if they all died in the fight. All he needed was his family’s safety, love, and acceptance.
“Sirius, something’s happened.”
“What is it? What happened?” Sirius demanded, frantic. He hadn’t expected Frank Longbottom to still be at Potter Manor after Dumbledore left. He had been sure Frank and Alice would be making plans of their own to protect their future son.
“Jamie went into labor as soon as you left.”
Sirius staggered back against the wall. “No! It’s too soon. She’s got another month and a half left.”
“Alice helped Lady Potter get her to the ward stone room, but couldn’t go inside. They’re … I heard Alice whisper it was the only chance Jamie and the baby might both survive. I’m so sorry.”
Sirius sobbed. If Dumbledore’s visit and subsequent revelation cost Sirius his wife or child, Sirius would kill Dumbledore himself.
He sprinted through the hallways, choking on desperate prayers, and almost collapsed to the floor at the look on Alice’s face as she stood outside the ward stone chamber.
“Jamie—”
“They’re okay. They both made it,” Alice said, cheeks stained with tears.
“Thank Merlin.”
Sirius hurried into the ward stone chamber, anxious to see his wife and newborn child, offering an absent smile to Dorea as she left to give them privacy.
“You’re safe. You’re both safe. I parleyed with the Dark Lord. He can’t hurt us — he can’t hurt any of us,” Sirius explained, wanting her to know why he had Apparated away without stopping to explain where he was going; sometimes, his Gryffindor brashness got the best of him. He needed Jamie to know he hadn’t abandoned her to childbirth alone for a frivolous reason.
But the loving smile on Jamie’s face and the light in her eyes when she spotted Sirius made the worries vanish.
“I know. I felt it. Even through labor I felt the binding. Thank you.”
He perched on the edge of the bed a house-elf must have relocated to the ward stone chamber and reached forward with a shaking hand to stroke downy coal hair.
“Beautiful. Just like you,” Sirius whispered before kissing Jamie’s lips. It was sweet, tender, and full of all the emotions and words he couldn’t express.
“A boy, just like we thought.” Jamie leaned back against the pillows and stared down at her son in awe. “What should we call him?”
They hadn’t discussed names at all, because they were both terrified of what could’ve happened. War didn’t offer any certainties. So many things could have gone horrifically wrong. They hadn’t wanted to name the child in fear that they would become even more attached, and thus, more devastated.
“Harry.”
Sirius’s voice rasped as he spoke. This little one, their son, was a blessing. And Sirius would do — had done — the unthinkable in order to keep him safe.
“How about Harry James Potter?”
Jamie ran a hand down her sleeping son’s face as tears dripped down her cheeks. “It’s perfect.”
Sirius wiped the tears off Jamie’s face and kissed her tenderly, before pressing a kiss to his son’s cheek. “Yes, he is.”