Chapter Text
There was an eerie sense of normalcy when Sirius landed his bike in the square of Godric’s Hollow, and for a split second, he considered that he’d been wrong about the tugging he’d had in his chest for the better part of the evening.
The mid-autumn fog, clinging to the cobblestones; accentuated the damp smell of leaf rot, and woodsmoke, and carried the sound of the last of the Hallow’s Eve merry-making coming from the Red Lion… a pub in which he’d spent so many afternoons, tucked into a booth with the rest of the marauders, plus Lily, and eventually Harry, packed into his muggle carry seat. He remembered vaguely that there had been posters up for a traditional muggle Halloween quiz since June, and they had all toyed with the idea of putting themselves up as a team. That was before things had gone to shit. Before the ever-looming threat of Voldemort had hit too close to home for any of their comfort.
Lily and James had gone into hiding, just after Harry’s first birthday, and their trips to the pub had all but ceased, except once to celebrate their anniversary in August, and again, a month later to celebrate Remus’s birthday. There had since been a number of small-scale hits on the village, with the Bones and Mackinnon families having been all but wiped out as the war landed on the doorstep of Griffin Cottage; and Amelia, who had trained both he and James, had lost both her brother and sister-in-law, and had come close to losing her niece, who she had since adopted.
Little Susan was only a few weeks younger than Harry…
As soon as his bike was on it’s stand, and his helmet was off, he headed in the direction of the cottage, taking the most direct route from the village square, and breathing raggedly against the hammering of his heart in his chest; the cold air burning his lungs. The smell of smoke grew thicker as he navigated the rows of houses and he took off at a run when he was a little over a street away, feeling the tug against his chest once more.
His godson was in danger…
Harry was in danger.
The sight of the cottage would have sent him to his knees if the panic in his chest wasn’t spurring him on, down the garden path.
Merlin… the thatch of the roof was still on fire; smouldering away against the biting damp in the air.
The cottage had been a wedding present to both James and Lily; the late Lord Potter having understood the couple’s need for a place of their own, and thus, breaking tradition that the Heir would move to the Potter’s ancestral seat, after marriage.
It had quickly become Lily’s pride and joy, and memories of them all helping decorate, filtered through his mind, overlaying themselves upon the horror that was staring back at him.
Sunlit days of laughing as James chased Peter with a wet paintbrush, through the garden, and Lily, up to her elbows in dirt as she worked on her beloved flowerbeds; planting both magical and muggle herbs and flowers alike as he and Remus dutifully hung her painted window boxes for her, beneath the leaded glass windows…
Harry gurgling away, laid on a soft picnic blanket.
Harry giggling as he crawled after Achillies, the Potter’s cat and chief mouser.
Harry flying his first broomstick; layered in protective charms and flying circles around his father as Lily flitted between panic for her son and murderous glares, towards Sirius.
Harry sat in his highchair at the kitchen table; waving his pudgy arms at Remus who was making motorbike noises as he tried and failed to feed his honorary nephew with as little mess as possible.
Harry falling asleep in his own arms as he bounced his godson up and down, singing the only nursery rhyme from his childhood that didn’t involve murder or bloodshed.
The bond he had to his godson, tugged again in his chest; launching him forwards through the door; only for the sight of James, laying open-eyed and motionless on the stairs to bring his world crashing down around his ears. His glasses had been knocked askew from his fall, and without thinking Sirius knelt amongst the rubble and smashed glass, to try and rouse him.
Sirius might have screamed, but he wasn’t entirely sure, as he shook his chosen brother’s shoulders and shouted his name; even though he knew, deep in his core that it was futile.
In the back of his head; Padfoot howled in pain, loss and fury, and the protectiveness that had been there, ever since Harry had been born, rose up and took control, forcing him back to his feet to go in search of his godson.
He took the stairs two at a time; blinking through the smoke and his tears as he entered the nursery, only to meet the lifeless green eyes of Lily; staring up at him from where she had obviously thrown herself in front of her son’s crib.
Her red hair was spread around her in a halo, and Sirius dropped to his knees at the side of her as his emotions took over once more, and his grief properly set in.
They hadn’t been close until after Hogwarts. He had been too cruel… to cold… too Black for them to ever really gel as teens, but since they had left, and he’d stood as James’s best man, and then had been sworn in as godfather once Harry had come along, they had become as close as brother and sister. As close as he and James…
He was too late…
They were gone…
He had no idea how long he stayed there; on the floor next to Lily, weeping at his loss; but a small movement from the crib had him wiping his face and casting a hasty Lumos, to light up the ruined nursery and finally take stock of how bad the state of the house was.
The back wall and most of the roof had been completely blown out, by what he could sense, was some kind of magical explosion, and hope rose in his chest that Lily’s final plan had actually worked.
A plan that only he, and James had known the true extent of.
It wasn’t that they hadn’t trusted Remus and Peter, hells, they had made Pettigrew the secret keeper on Sirius’s insistence, and Remus and Lily had cooked up something between themselves that he had no information on... it was only that, they had begun to share information between themselves in pairs or trios, so none of them fully knew the full extent of the plan. It had been, at the time a smart tactical move, but now it had come back to bite them, and James and Lily had died anyway.
He muttered a prayer to Morgana as he stood, and everything became slow; time seemingly holding its breath as he turned to look down into Harry’s crib; bracing himself for the worst.
Harry gurgled as he looked up at him with Lily’s green eyes, sucking on the antler of his stuffed prongs as a small trickle of blood leaked down his forehead, and Sirius's beautiful, alive godson, smiled toothily around the toy; reaching out his arms towards him.
Time restarted in between one breath and the next, and Sirius wiped his own eyes on his sleeve as he reached into the crib and lifted Harry into his arms; bundling him up in his duvet to protect him against the chill of the night.
“Hey there pup.” He whispered; bouncing his godson on his hip; uttering thanks to the goddess that the baby was at least sill breathing. “I’m going to get us out of here, okay?” He reached down again and grabbed Harry’s favourite blanket; softening slightly at the sight of the golden snitches, flying across the fluffy red blanket, and he covered Harry’s head with it; tucking the little one into his shoulder to protect him from both the smoke and the vision of his mother; still sprawled across the floor. He followed up with a warming charm on them both as the true extent of the cold, started to crawl though his bike jacket. “Where’s your bag?” He asked, more to himself than anything; as he scanned the room; purposefully ignoring Lily’s body and the pile of smoking robes, next to the crib.
Amelia would be here with a team of aurors in a matter of hours...
Harry was more important.
A quick summoning charm soon had the bag on his opposite shoulder and he started opening drawers; rushing now as the damaged roof started to creak ominously; sending adrenaline, coursing through his body.
Clothes, nappies, dummies, stuffed animals, Harry’s favourite picture book, James’s copy of Beedle the Bard…
He mentally checked things off as he ripped drawers off their runners, trashed the inside of the wardrobe, and frantically pulled things off the remaining shelves of the nursery; thanking Lily’s forethought and expanding charms as he shoved as many things into the nappy bag as he could before thundering downstairs and into the kitchen.
Milk formula, bottles, Harry’s plastic bowl and spoon, and jars of solid baby food made their way into the bag, as he purposefully didn’t look at James’s wand still sitting on the arm of his chair with the newspaper beside it.
Nor did he look at the bookcase; filled with photo albums.
Or towards the dishes stacked up on the draining board, all stamped with the Potter crest.
He didn’t have time for anything else.
The detritus of James and Lily’s last hours were now nothing more than some grisly shrine of what Samhain had wrought, and as he purposefully didn’t look around the sitting room; Sirius swore that he’d come back and pack up the rest of Harry’s history, once he knew that his godson was safe… but for now… for tonight… they needed to move.
“I have you now pup.” He whispered as they left the house. “I promise I’m going to protect you now, okay? It’s going to just be me and you, until I can get hold of your Uncle Moony. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He ghosted back through the village; notice-me-not charms covering his escape from the cottage as the first of the horrified onlookers finally started to take notice of what new disaster had visited their sleepy streets, and he wrapped Harry tighter into the bedding against the cold, casting yet another warming charm as the fog started to settle into the first signs of frost.
He was almost at his bike when a shout went up from across the square, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he recognised the booming voice of Hagrid, he would have kept going.
As such, he stopped and turned around to meet the half-giant who was practically bounding his way across the cobblestones; a large polka-dot handkerchief dabbing at his eyes.
“I ‘spected I’d find yeh here Black.” Hagrid said as he reached them, and Sirius tucked Harry, further into his shoulder, out of pure instinct.
“They’re dead.” Sirius struggled out; hollowness opening a pit in his stomach as he finally recognised, out loud, what he’d known since he’d first laid eyes on the cottage. “I’m taking Harry to my place, it isn’t going to be safe here for another few hours.”
“Well, you see…” Hagrid started, shifting his massive weight from foot to foot. “He has an aunt you see, and Dumbledore is insisting…”
“Dumbledore can take a fucking walk.” Sirius growled; Padfoot’s instincts rising up in him once more. “He’s mine by godfather rights, and if the old fool wants him, he is going to have to go through me.”
“I don’t want to turn this inta’ an argument Black.” The half-giant responded, gathering himself up into his full height.
“Then don’t.”
“But he needs ta’be checked by Poppy, and Dumbledore is really sure that his aunt…”
“I’ll die before I let Petunia get her scrawny hands, on Lily’s son.” Sirius growled back, bouncing Harry when he started to fuss against the cold and the tension. “She has no claim to him, and Dumbledore has no rights to deny me. As for his medical needs, I’m quite capable of bringing him to Mungo’s myself.”
“I’m sorry Black. I don’t want to do this, but Dumbledore…” Sirius watched in horror as the pink umbrella was raised to his chest, and the last, panicked thought that flew through his head, was that he was going to murder Dumbledore, as soon as he’d finished with Peter.
Darkness washed over him, as whatever Hagrid had managed to cast, hit his chest, and he went to the ground; cradling Harry’s head, protectively, against his shoulder.