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Listen
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Sirius broke out of Azkaban with the intention of hunting down Wormtail. He stops by Surrey just to take a quick look at Harry. Just a glimpse to see if he's okay. He won't stop, he won't talk to him… Then Vernon Dursley wraps his hands around Harry's throat and any plan he had is out the window.
But Remus will help. Sirius has Harry, he has a way to make Remus listen. He has to…
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Remus will help.
Remus will listen. He'll have to, I have Harry.
I have Harry.
Sirius felt a sick burn in his stomach, churning his worry around until he felt like he was going to burst apart in flame. He clutched his godson, too small and shaking even in his sleep, closer. He felt a strange sort of disbelief well up inside of him. He hadn't held his godson in twelve years. He never thought he would get the chance again even when he dreamed of it every night since… since…
Since James. Since Lily. Since Peter ripped them all apart.
Don't think about it. Get to Remus. He'll help. He'll listen because now he has to.
Sirius had only been out of Azkaban a week. It had been easy to find Harry. He knew what list James and Lily had given Dumbledore for who could have custody of Harry. Sirius had been at the top but he had been in Azkaban. Then had been Remus but that was a defiant dream of James', more symbolic than realistic. Then Frank and Alice Longbottom but Sirius knew what Bellatrix had done. Somewhere in the line was Peter, who was out for obvious reasons, McGonagall, who wouldn't have gone against Dumbledore, Dumbledore himself, who wouldn't have taken on guardianship of a baby, and a slew of other people who were dead either right before Lily and James or right after.
Sirius had turned it over in his mind again and again for years. Who had his godson?
The answer was stunningly simple. Dumbledore was a good man who tried to do the right thing but he tended to forget that his chess pieces were people. Of course it made sense to give Harry to his aunt; there were no other choices left. On the chess board, it made perfect sense. In real life, it was a choice so bad Lily hadn't ever considered it safe for her son.
Sirius knew where they lived. He'd been once with James to prank Lily's horse-faced sister and her husband after they had been so terrible to Lily at their parents' funerals. A boring little muggle house in a boring little muggle neighborhood that housed two horrible muggles who were immensely proud of their muggleness.
He could find his way back, nearly fifteen years later and painfully without James.
And he had, it hadn't even been hard.
He couldn't remember which house it had been exactly. They were all the same, all dead husks void of originality. The smell though… that had made it easy.
He smelled like James and little boy and fear and magic and the barest hint of his own baby scent. One sniff to the air and Sirius had known that he had found his godson. He had run, he had run and found him and stared and stared until the boy went inside and then he'd just sat there, stunned and so filled with joy and sadness that he had needed the entire night just to remember how to function. Harry, right in front of him, Harry who looked like James, Harry who was still alive and okay despite how horribly Sirius had done his job.
He might have still been a little out of his mind the next morning too, as he peered into windows covertly. The fat Uncle had knocked the sense right back into him.
He was bigger and louder than the last time Sirius had been unfortunate enough to see him. All at once, the reality of Harry's situation had come crashing down around him.
These Muggles had hated magic and hated Lily. Harry was the pairing of the two, made real and dependent on them.
Of course they hated him. How could Dumbledore have thought it would go differently?
They gave him a list of chores that would have been cruel on a house elf. The woman wouldn't feed him, threatened to lock him in his room. The whale of a boy shoved him and taunted him.
The day dragged on endlessly, his poor godson worked beyond what was fair. Sirius realized that Harry wasn't just small because Sirius had pictured him that way. He was really and truly too skinny, not even the size James had been at eleven even though Harry was supposed to be nearly thirteen. He was bruised in non-obvious places that Sirius only glimpsed as Harry did manual labor in the yard. They were hurting him, starving him and grinding him down into the dirt they said he belonged in.
Sirius might have been able to walk away even through all of that. He could have turned his back and went back out to track down Remus or Dumbledore and appealed to them. He could have started his hunt for Peter. Both would have benefitted Harry and been the smarter choice. Less impulsive, more like what he should have thought through twelve years ago.
Then the Muggle hit his godson. And kicked him and shoved him and tried to choke him.
Sirius had burst in the house, as a dog then as a man. The woman had screamed, his godson had been unconscious. The fat boy had clutched at his butt as though it were about to fall off.
He wasn't really sure what had happened. It had been so fast.
His only clear plan had been to take Harry and run. He had shouted at Lily's sister, demanding his godson's things and praying that the boy's wand would let him use it. She had shakily pointed at a cupboard under the stairs and Sirius had kicked the flimsy lock right off the door.
The trunk was easy to open and the broom had been a welcome find. The wand even more so. Sirius put it in his hand and it didn't feel like his or even like James' had but it let him use it all the same. He shrunk the boy's things, grabbed the broom and was out before the fat Muggle had time to wake.
"We're free Harry, both of us." Sirius whispered to the boy in his arms.
Now that he was away from the house, though not nearly far away enough, he realized he needed to see the damage the Muggle had done. Gently, he laid Harry down on a park bench. Harry whimpered once his back touched the cold wood of the bench and Sirius snatched him back up into his arms.
He's hurt. That bloody bastard…
"Shh," Sirius soothed in a shaky voice. This was so different from his baby godson fussing. This was an injured boy who didn't even know him. When Harry woke up, he would be terrified.
Don't think about it. Just help him.
"Lumos." Sirius incanted, glad when the wand agreed with him enough to produce a steady light. After two spells without catastrophic results, he figured he could use it to cast a few healing spells on Harry and not accidentally do harm.
First, though, he needed to see the damage. Harry's eye was swollen shut and there was a freely bleeding gash up in his hairline. With a jolt Sirius realized that his shoulder was just as bloody from Harry's head resting against it. That'll freak Remus out more than I wanted to…
He shifted Harry around in his lap, trying to be as gentle as possible to his back. He pulled the back of his godson's threadbare yet also huge shirt up and pointed the wandlight down his back to see… nothing? There wasn't any wound there, nothing swollen to show that something was wrong underneath his skin. His bones showed too easily and there was some bruising around the back of his neck where the Muggle's hands had squeezed but there was nothing Sirius could see explicitly wrong with Harry's back.
He pulled the shirt back down and tried to lay his godson down again. The boy made a pitiful sound once he was away from Sirius.
He wants to stay with me.
His head told him that Harry was probably cold, possibly in shock, and that he was warm. His heart told him that Harry recognized him or at least recognized that he was safe. This is proof, his traitorous mind whispered, that he belongs with you.
His hands shook as he finished looking Harry over. There were some ribs that were definitely broken and some bruises that would be wickedly vibrant soon enough. He muttered a few spells under his breath, stabilizing the boy's ribs until someone with more recent experience in healing – Remus – could do something more for them. He ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of Harry's tent and charmed it clean enough to wrap around his head wound. From there he made sure that Harry could breathe decently enough
He'll be okay for a while. Run. Find Remus. Make him listen.
Sirius pulled Harry back up to lean against him and then just… sat. He knew he needed to move. There had to be ways for Dumbledore to monitor at least Harry's presence at that house, although obviously not his safety or health. The Headmaster would come soon and Sirius couldn't say if he could make him listen like he could make Remus listen. There was too much to explain to Dumbledore. He didn't know what they had done to help Remus, all those years ago.
Get up. Run.
Sirius stood. It would be easier than finding Harry. He knew exactly where to go.
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Remus' family had a little cottage out in the middle of nowhere. He had inherited it, even though there were other relatives who could have claimed it too. Remus had resented it a little, even if he accepted gratefully. Pity and pride were two things that didn't mix.
He owned it outright. It was surrounded by enough land to keep a werewolf in. It wasn't so big that maintenance would cost a lot.
It was perfect for a werewolf. Especially one who's friends had, quite unintentionally, left him behind.
Sirius just prayed that Remus hadn't somehow lost his home as well was his friends.
Flying with Harry was a slightly difficult way to reintroduce himself to broom flight, especially considering the apparent leaps and bounds the makers of racing brooms had made since Sirius had last flown on one, but flying was as second nature to Sirius as casting. A few shaky moments as he and Harry got into a good position and Sirius got used to the broom and then it was like no time at all had passed since Sirius had last flown. He went up as high as he dared, hoping to stay out of the light cast by the muggle streets down below, and the tightness in his chest eased ever so slightly.
Harry, thankfully, kept sleeping. Sirius couldn't imagine his godson waking up and him losing his grip on the boy while they were so high up.
Just a little bit further. We'll be safe soon.
They wouldn't be, not really. Remus might blast Sirius into oblivion if he was angry enough and Harry wasn't in his arms. He felt vaguely sick about it but he was going to have to use his godson human-shield style until he could get Remus to listen.
Even after, if Remus believed him, they wouldn't be safe. The Ministry wasn't unaware of Sirius' list of potential allies and neither was Dumbledore. They would go to Remus and question him. He could only hope they already had.
Be cautious. Go slow. Make sure Remus is alone.
Remus was almost certainly alone. He probably had been for twelve years. Sirius's heart ached for him.
Just a little bit more loneliness. Please don't let Dumbledore or the Aurors be there. I can keep quiet and out of sight, but Harry can't. Please don't let them find us. Please let Remus be alone.
Sirius landed on the very edge of Remus' property. The wards let him through with no problems. Of course they did, considering Sirius had helped cast them. Why would Remus ever think to update them to ward out a convict safely away in Azkaban?
The only real downside was that Remus would most likely be aware that Sirius was on the property. There wasn't really any way around it.
He shifted his hold on Harry so the boy was pressed more to his front than his side. He tried to tell himself that if Harry was against more of him he would be warmer but it didn't make him any less guilty.
It's only so Remus will have to listen. He won't hurt Harry. Harry's not at risk at all.
Would the Aurors hesitate? Sirius couldn't be sure they wouldn't risk a stray spell hitting a boy to get a crazed killer like they though Sirius was. Then again, Sirius wasn't unaware of what they called Harry and the reverent way they spoke about him. It bothered him but if it kept Harry safe, then so be it.
As silently as he could manage, Sirius walked through the forest that surrounded Remus' property. He made sure to stand still every few minutes and strain his ears to check for someone else walking. Luckily, he didn't hear anything that made him think Remus was tracking him. He wished he could transform into Padfoot and put his other senses to use but that meant putting down Harry and that was absolutely not an option for a lot of different reasons.
They were just lucky it wasn't a full moon.
Slowly, the glow from the windows of Remus' cottage came from between the trees. Sirius slowed even more, even as his heart sped up.
I've missed him.
The thought came unbidden, just to torture him with the possibilities a little more. Sirius could never have James back. He could never have the boy that Peter had been back either and he, disgusted with himself, kind of wanted him back too. He could have Remus though. He could have Harry. He just had to get the next hour right and he had a chance.
If Remus hadn't met them outside yet, it meant that he was waiting inside and that was a daunting possibility. He would be wand out, teeth bared and no doubt ready to blast Sirius to oblivion.
What if he had taken the time to call the Aurors back?
What if he had called Dumbledore?
Sirius knew better than the peek in the windows to check. Illusions weren't beyond any of their capabilities.
He just had to trust in the man that Remus had been and in his own sheer guts.
He walked up the little pathway to the door and paused.
Do I knock? Knock, knock, hello Remus. Yes, it's been quite a while. How has poverty and loneliness treated you? Probably a fair sight better than Azkaban did me. Oh, did I mention I kidnapped Harry?
A near hysterical laugh bubbled up.
He knocked.
There was no answer, obviously.
He hesitated. He could have just opened the door but Remus was fast and crafty. He might have something rigged that would blow as soon as the door would open and Sirius got why, he really did, but Harry was in the line of fire too.
Just talk, he'll listen.
The voice sounded more like James than his own thoughts. He knew that was wrong and crazy and kind of down to Azkaban but he went with it. They weren't going to get anywhere with a door between them and Harry was still cold and hurt.
"Remus?" He called, his voice a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Remus. It's… well, I guess you know it's me. I want to talk to you. I want to explain. If you just give me five minutes, I can explain. I know…"
It occurred to him that he really didn't know how Remus felt, not truly. He could guess but he didn't know. He wanted Remus to tell him. He didn't want to let assumptions and silence ruin them again. Inside, the cottage was dead quiet. He had to trust that Remus was listening.
"I was going to say that I know what you're thinking, but I don't. Please, Remus, give me five minutes. I… I did… um, I kind of did something crazy." Sirius called. "I went to Surrey. I was just going to look at him, I swear."
That got a reaction. There was a footstep, just a single step like Remus had nearly lunged but had managed to hold himself back.
"You know how awful they were, Remus. Remember how that bastard tried to backhand Lily at her parents' funeral? I just watched but then he hit Harry and I snapped and… well, now we're here. He's hurt. Blast me if you want to, but I have Harry in my arms and I just want to talk to you. Please?"
The moment of silence dragged on so long Sirius thought that maybe he was wrong and Remus had been asleep when he crossed the wards or maybe not even home. Baring his soul to a door sounded like the cherry on his particularly awful sundae. He nearly reached out and touched the door himself but the knob started turning and the door slowly swung open.
Remus.
His friend stood in front of him, five feet away from the door. It could have taken Sirius six steps to cross the threshold and press himself against Remus and finally relax. He didn't, of course, and that wasn't just because of the wand pointed at him.
They stared at each other, silent and wary. Sirius didn't dare step inside.
Remus looked as tired as Sirius felt. He looked thinner and grayer too, but not just in an aged sense. He seemed just… less. As worn out as his patched robes.
His eyes, though, they didn't seem diminished at all. They blazed with an anger that Sirius had never seen in him before. "Put Harry down and kneel on the ground, hands behind your head." Remus ground out.
"Um, no." Sirius said quietly, "Mostly because I'm pretty sure that way ends in Azkaban and it was really a lot of work to get out in the first place, so… no thank you."
"I should have told them about Padfoot." Remus said, "I knew I should have. I was weak and now Harry is paying the price."
Sirius considered that. He remembered those terrible first few months when just discovered that Padfoot could withstand the Dementors and the wild panic mixed with terrible hope that Remus would tell.
"I kind of wish you had, because I think that would have cleared this up a long time ago." Sirius returned. He tried to keep his voice even but even he could hear the impending tears. Once upon a time he would have been angry about it but that was a different person now.
Remus narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean?"
"Do you have much contact with the Weasley family?" Sirius asked.
It seemed to be the wrong question, at least for Remus. The other man snarled and made an aborted arc with his wand. "I'm not playing games with you, Sirius!"
"I'm not trying to!" Sirius answered. He panicked and stepped back.
"Put Harry down!"
Sirius bit his lip, "I can't, because then you'll stop listening."
"I'm not listening to a single word out of your traitorous mouth until you put that boy down." Remus said.
In his arms, Harry shifted and made a low whining sound. Sirius hitched him up higher against his chest and made a shushing noise that was not particularly reassuring sounding to his own ears. How much longer did they have until Harry woke up?
He didn't have time to be hesitant.
With his eyes locked on Remus, Sirius stepped forward again and then took the single step up and into the doorway. Remus took two measured steps back, his wand never wavering.
Sirius stepped to the side and used his heel to close the door behind him. It was summer, so it wasn't so cold but it was also night and a bit chilly. Or at least, it was for Harry in a threadbare rag and for Sirius in his worn Azkaban robes.
"Do you have much contact with the Weasley family?" He asked again. "Because I have a picture in my pocket I would really love you to look at."
There was such confusion in Remus' gaze that Sirius knew he had to keep going before he lost the chance. "I also have Harry's wand in the same pocket because I'm an idiot who doesn't think things though, obviously, but I'm telling you about it and I'm only going to touch the paper. I swear on James."
"Coming from you," Remus said slowly, "That means virtually nothing."
The words stung, he would be a liar if he said they didn't. "Then I swear on my hatred for Snivellus. I hope you trust in that, at least."
It was too much to hope for a smile, even Sirius recognized that. But not even a quirk of the lips? All Remus did was nod his head to indicate that Sirius could reach into his own pocket. So he did, with an exaggerated slowness that he hoped came off as compliant and not mocking.
His fingers brushed against the folded newspaper and a fear that it had fallen out mid-flight bubbled up, at the exact same moment. It was illogical because the paper was in his fingers but damn if it didn't jolt through Sirius until those same fingers tingled with the terror of the thought.
He held out the picture to Remus, who slowly reached out and took it. Sirius returned his hand to Harry's back and tried to ignore the ache in his weak, pathetic arms. Holding Harry felt good but Merlin he was pathetically wasted down into a fraction of what he had once been.
Remus' eyes darted between the picture and Sirius, "I don't see what's so important."
"What's the youngest boy got?"
"A rat." Remus answered before his eyes widened and he stared down at the picture with disbelief, "A rat..."
"Missing a toe." Sirius said quickly. "Remus, I swear to you, I didn't betray Lily and James. I… I betrayed you, though. I thought it was you. I thought that the anger about how people treated werewolves had gotten to you or Fenrir had or… I don't know. I just thought you were the traitor. I didn't talk to you or give you a chance to defend yourself. I convinced James of it too."
And that was it, any chance Sirius had of holding back tears was gone. He felt them welling, ugly and weak in his eyes. They rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto Harry, wetting his godson's hair with his desperation. How many years had he rehearsed these words?
"We came up with the idea for the secret-keeper. You know we did. James wanted it to be me but I thought it was too obvious. I convinced him to switch to Peter at the last minute. We didn't tell anyone. I thought…" He cried and bit his lip, "I thought I was so bloody clever."
Remus stared at him with a look so blank Sirius didn't honestly know what to make of it.
"Don't you understand what I'm telling you?" Sirius nearly shouted. It was only Harry in his arms, still unconscious, that held him back. "It wasn't me, Remus! And it wasn't you. It was Peter. I handed Lily and James to him on a silver platter all because I had to be brilliant and stupid and I ruined everything. I got them killed!"
He clutched Harry to his chest so tightly the boy whimpered. He eased up the pressure immediately, "I couldn't make contact with Peter. He was supposed to be in hiding too. I couldn't… So I went. I found them and Harry and I took him out of the house and I handed him to Hagrid and I went to find Peter and I yelled that I wanted him dead and he cast that spell that he had never had enough power for before and I realized how he had so completely outwitted me and James was dead and I just laughed. I don't know why." And still, no reaction. "Remus, you have to listen to me!"
"I'm listening." Remus said faintly.
But he didn't say anything else. Sirius felt himself deflate a little. He wasn't sure what he had been hoping for, except that he had spent a decade imagining exactly what he was hoping for.
He wanted to keep talking until Remus understood but he knew that Remus was smart. He could connect the dots now that he had all the information.
He listened and it didn't change anything.
"Harry's hurt." Sirius said instead.
Remus slowly lowered his wand as his eyes snapped back to the boy in Sirius' arms. "Lay him down on the couch."
Sirius walked over silently. It was the same couch that Remus had the last time Sirius had been in the cottage. The familiar detail nearly made him laugh.
Slowly, Sirius laid Harry down and steeled himself against the boy's inevitable noises of complaint. He stood up and stepped back, a little woodenly.
Remus swooped in, wand already casting something that Sirius dimly recalled as a diagnostic spell. He sat down on the floor next to the fireplace and let the flames warm his chilled skin. A sliver of his attention went to Harry and Remus but mostly he stared forward and tired not to think of anything.
No dementors, no Aurors, no Azkaban, no nasty muggles who Dumbledore will hand Harry right back to, no hatred in Remus' eyes, no hunger, no more hiding as Padfoot…
The things Sirius didn't want to think about piled up in his head, demanding his attention and his fear.
I am so tired.
"Is that all his?"
Sirius pulled his head back, surprised to see Remus crouched in front of him. "What?"
Remus watched him carefully, "Is that all his?" He repeated and gestured with his free hand to the blood that Sirius barely remembered was coating his shoulder.
He nodded.
"Are you hurt anywhere?" Remus pressed like he didn't trust Sirius' first answer.
He shook his head, "No."
"I've fixed Harry up as best I can, for now. Madame Pomfrey will do better." Remus said, "He hasn't woken up yet either and that kind of worries me."
It worried Sirius too.
"Sirius, you're freaking me out a little here. Say something coherent." Remus asked a little helplessly.
"I don't understand." Sirius answered honestly.
"You wanted to talk before, so let's talk." Remus said. He rocked back to sit cross legged in front of Sirius.
Pomfrey meant Dumbledore and if Remus was worried about Harry's head Sirius didn't understand why he was delaying calling for the Headmaster. "Is Dumbledore coming?"
"I'll call him in a minute." Remus said, the words like a death knell in Sirius' mind. "I want to make sure you're not shutting down on me first, though."
Sirius didn't know what to say to that. He didn't really know what else to say to Remus in general. He had thrown so much out at the other man that anything else seemed useless. That said, if he was soon to be bound for Azkaban he wanted to make sure that Remus would take better care of Harry.
He stared dully at the floor between them, "You have to make Dumbledore believe about Peter. He can't let that rat stay in Arthur Weasley's house."
"Of course." Remus answered slowly.
"And I left Harry's broom at the edge of your property. You have to get it back. It's a really good broom." Sirius continued.
Remus laughed softly with an edge of what sounded suspiciously like a sob catching at the end. "Okay."
"You have to figure out what to do with those Muggles Dumbledore has him with. Maybe you can't get custody, maybe there's no one left who Dumbledore would let have him but you're a Marauder. You can figure out some way to put the fear of Merlin in them. Make that bastard keep his hands off of him." Sirius said. "He needs -"
Remus reached out and curled his hand around the back of Sirius' head, bringing his gaze up so their eyes finally met. "Padfoot, I understand if you're angry and you don't… and you don't want to be near me." Remus said in a bare whisper, "But I can't believe you would leave Harry behind."
Sirius jerked his head out of Remus' grip and couldn't help but notice the way the werewolf's fingers tangled a bit in his hair as though reluctant to let go. "Don't be cruel, Moony."
At the familiar nickname Remus's face crumbled a little bit. He grit his teeth a bit and his expression smoothed out after a second but Sirius could still see the pure anguish on Remus' face and every leftover teenage instinct to fix his friend bubbled back up.
"What do you mean, Sirius?" Remus asked quietly.
Sirius leaned back to put more space between them. If Remus wanted to lash out at him that was fine. Sirius and the damage he had done deserved it. "Call Dumbledore."
"Are you sure?" Remus said, like Sirius had any sort of choice.
He nodded and looked away. Remus stayed still across from him as though waiting for Sirius to bolt. He wouldn't though, not until he knew Harry was going to be okay. At the very least, Dumbledore wouldn't let the Boy Who Lived be at risk with a Death Eater disguised as a rat in his midst at school. Sirius had to make sure that Dumbledore understood the threat… even if he had to lose Padfoot to do it.
When Sirius stayed silent, Remus stood with a snap of a joint and a near silent grunt. Without turning to watch, Sirius saw the light from the flames change and flare as Remus made the connection. Their voices were soft and Sirius did everything he could to block the noise out. He didn't want to hear.
Almost instantly, Remus was stepping back and Dumbledore was stepping through.
Sirius stayed on the floor, even as the edge of Dumbledore's robe caught on his arm. How strange to be in the Headmaster's presence again after so long.
"This, Remus, was not what I expected and yet is also no surprise."
Dumbledore sounded older. Sirius assumed that he was the 'this' the Headmaster referred to. He felt curiously like he was about to be assigned detention. In a way, he supposed he was.
"You promised to let me explain." Remus reminded with a shade of desperation in his voice.
Dumbledore sighed, "And so I will. First, I want to check on Harry."
Good, that was also what Sirius wanted to happen first. He heard a few whispered spells and another weary sigh from Dumbledore, "Harry never gets an easy time of it, does he?"
"He would," Sirius said hoarsely, "If you hadn't of put him with abusive, scummy Muggles."
Dumbledore turned back to him and for the first time in years, Sirius met the man's eyes. He was, even still, incredibly hard to read.
"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked mildly.
Sirius stared, "Give me veritaserum and I'll swear it. I didn't hurt him. That disgusting creature not fit for the word 'Uncle' did."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, as though it wasn't so much of a surprise. That action alone nearly made Sirius' blood boil. Before he could say anything, Dumbledore held up a hand. Merlin help him, he still shut his mouth. Nearly fifteen years since school and twelve years since he had last seen Dumbledore and a single hand still shut him up.
"I think we'll have to circle back around to Vernon Dursley, Mr. Black. I do promise we will, but I think you have something else to say, first."
And Sirius did, he really, really did. The words started tumbling out, starting back to his first year at Hogwarts when he and James started noticing something worrying about Remus. He spoke vaguely about the process to become an animagus, as though the laws they broke were still the biggest of his worries. He spared no detail as he described the results, though. He detailed Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail as though he wanted Dumbledore to be able to sketch their portraits from his words alone.
That was easier, even if just saying Wormtail made him stutter over some of the words. Still, the adventure of it. The bliss of their teamwork… that was easy.
It wasn't so easy to describe the war, the secrets, the lack of trust.
To talk about his fatally brilliant plan.
To talk about the realization.
To talk about finding James and Lily.
To talk about confronting Peter.
To talk about how he had mentally gone over and over what he would say at his trial.
To talk about the day he knew he wasn't getting one.
To talk about Azkaban and Padfoot.
He had spoken more in the last hour at this cottage than in all the preceding twelve years. His voice ground down to a near whisper by the time he worked his way to the newspaper article. No matter how quickly he spoke or how quiet his words became, Dumbledore and Remus stayed silent. They just listened.
It felt better than Sirius could have ever thought it would.
By the time he was done he was nearly asleep. To go from nothing more than pacing a tiny cell every day for twelve years to what he had managed to do since he had escaped was such a drastic change that Sirius felt such exhaustion he might never manage to wake himself up again.
I'll be able to sleep in Azkaban. He thought with a sarcasm so deep he nearly cried. Then he remembered that Dumbledore would find a way to seal him away from Padfoot and that he would never get to truly sleep again without his other form to soften the blow of the Dementors.
Quickly, he transformed before the two men still watching him could see the tears. As if the both of them hadn't seen him cry before, for Remus as recently as a half an hour ago. Now it felt far worse.
When Sirius stopped speaking, neither Remus nor Dumbledore immediately spoke to fill the quiet. Even Harry, still sleeping, breathed silently as though afraid to call attention to himself even in sleep. It was probably true. Sirius knew how that felt.
After a few moments, Dumbledore finally spoke, "That is quite the tale, my boy."
He tried not to read too much into the my boy, especially in light of Dumbledore calling everything he had just confessed a tale.
It's not enough.
"I believe him." Remus whispered.
Sirius tilted his head up, his ears perking up at the soft sound.
"I believe you and I am so, so sorry, Padfoot." Remus said. He knelt down on the floor by his side and hovered his hand over Sirius' head.
Sirius whined and slowly Remus patted him on the head. Oh, to be touched…
"Arthur Weasley's house, you say?" Dumbledore said as he stood. "Well, it's rather late to drag Amelia Bones from her bed, not to mention the potential chaos of waking Arthur's brood, but I don't think I could possibly wait until morning."
Sirius's ears started to ring as the implication sank in. Dumbledore believed him? He was going to capture Peter right then?
"I want to go with you." Remus said.
Dumbledore shook his head, "I think that's a bad idea, Remus. For a number of reasons. Right now, I must insist you look after Harry and Sirius."
Remus made to stand but Sirius caught his sleeve in his teeth and gently tugged his hand back. Don't go. He'll trick you like he tricked me.
Except Remus was too smart for such a thing. Not a fool like Sirius had been. Still, he didn't want to risk Peter doing something to Remus after what he had done to James.
There was a quiet chuckle from above and Sirius looked over to see Dumbledore's eyes were softer than before. "I think Sirius – or Padfoot, I suppose? – agrees with me. Stay here. I'll be back as soon as I know anything."
Remus's jaw clenched but he nodded and let Dumbledore floo back out without a fight.
When Dumbledore left the room, it was as if he took the concept of time with him. Sirius laid his head back down and curled up on the floor even tighter. Remus tried to get him to transform back or, when that didn't work, to have some water from a bowl he set down but Sirius ignored both. I can't move until Dumbledore tells me Peter has been captured. I have to protect Remus and Harry.
And that was a fine plan, except he couldn't seem to keep his eyes open. It seemed as though he blinked and Madame Pomfrey appeared.
She looked older as well, a hazard of not seeing anyone he knew for over a decade, but her bedside manner was so completely the same that if Sirius squinted he was in Hogwarts and she was bent over James. He let his mind sink into the comforting illusion for only a few minutes before he physically shook himself out of it. It wasn't fair to himself, James or Harry if he kept it up.
"Awake again?" Remus asked. Sirius tore his eyes from Harry to find Remus in a chair closer to him.
He gave what he hoped was a very unimpressed stare. He used to have those kind of facial expressions down to an art, even as Padfoot… or rather especially as Padfoot. Another hazard of Azkaban was that social nuance and meaningful expression were also lost in an atrophied kind of way.
Luckily, Remus seemed to get it.
"You missed Harry waking up for a bit." Remus revealed. Sirius perked up a little. He wasn't sure how he felt about missing that. Harry spoke to his relatives so quietly Sirius hadn't gotten the chance to make out words. He wasn't sure he was ready for it, if he were honest.
Remus continued, "He spoke to Madame Pomfrey. She's fixed him up pretty well. He's sleeping off the last of it. Luckily he was a little groggy, so he didn't question too much. He'll be a little hoarse with a sore throat for a few days but otherwise he's okay."
That was… that was really, really good. Seeing Harry being hurt like that had been the stuff of nightmares.
Madame Pomfrey stood from the couch and caught Sirius' eye. "Hello, Mr. Black." She greeted quietly. She watched him carefully, as though he was liable to explode right before her eyes.
Sirius glanced at Remus.
"Dumbledore told her everything, obviously." Remus said, answering Sirius' unspoken question.
"I feel like someone should give you a rather long lecture about health and magical safety. I suppose it will have to be another day, though." Pomfrey said. Between her and Dumbledore, Sirius had apparently reverted back to the age of thirteen. If McGonagall came through the floo next he might not make it through the night.
Remus had the gall to chuckle a little. It still had a slightly over-emotional edge to it, though, so Sirius forgave him. This is too surreal.
Pomfrey gestured down at him, "All right then," She said. When Sirius just stared at her she arched an eyebrow, "Transform, Mr. Black. I am no veterinarian."
I'd really rather not.
He didn't really have the fight left in him. It was obvious by the look in her eyes that he wasn't going to put her off. Well, maybe once the dirt and smell got to her, it would. He transformed back into his regular self and tried not to fidget while she stared at him.
"I think," She said slowly, "That the first thing we need to do is get a few layers of grime off of you."
He wanted to point out that Azkaban didn't have showers so of course he was going to be kind of grungy. He also wanted to point out that he had swam off the island so he was actually a fair bit cleaner than he had been a week ago.
"I'm not leaving Harry." Was what he settled for.
"I'll look after Harry," Pomfrey countered. "And I will certainly sound the alarm if anything should happen. Remus, if you will?"
Remus stood and gently pulled on Sirius' arm. "Come on, Sirius. Harry will be all right. You need to get cleaned up so she can look you over."
"I'm okay." He said, even though he was aware that it was kind of a miserable lie. He stood shakily and didn't have the heart to shake Remus' arms off. Or the strength, really.
"But you'll be more okay when you've had a shower." Remus eyed him critically, "Or maybe a bath."
"A bath, I should say." Pomfrey ordered. "I don't trust him not to fall over."
Sirius glared, "I can hear you."
"Finally," Remus muttered.
The two of them shuffled forward. Remus' little cottage only had one bathroom but as Sirius recalled it was a rather nice one. He leaned against the wall as Remus knelt to run the water. The mirror across from him called his attention, even if he didn't really want to see himself. It had been a long time since he had in anything more than the reflection of water. Slowly, he looked up.
He looked like a dead man walking. For a long time, he sort of had been.
His hair was a ratted mess, too long and too dirty to be saved, probably. His cheeks were sunken and his skin looked a sickly mix of too white and off yellow. He didn't dare open his mouth and look at his teeth.
Remus appeared in the mirror next to him, though he hadn't heard Moony approach. "I'm so sorry, Sirius." He said quietly.
"You've already said that." Sirius answered equally quietly.
Remus took a deep breath, "I don't know if I can stop saying it." He admitted.
"Try." Sirius said, "It wasn't your fault." Before Remus could say anything else, Sirius continued, "I've got this from here."
Remus stared. Sirius knew he was thinking of the thousands of times when him staying and helping wouldn't have been awkward. Once, the awkward thing would have been to push Remus out like he was now. That time was gone. Those people were gone. Now, they had to figure out what there was left and it definitely wasn't going to happen in the bathroom while Sirius scraped off a decade of filth and probably three quarters of his hair.
The werewolf seemed to come to the same conclusion. He looked regretful in a way that Sirius felt way down deep in his soul. "I'll bring some clothes and leave them outside the door."
"Thank you." Sirius said by rote.
The door closed and Sirius started the slow process of trying to turn his body back from a corpse to a human again.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
His internal clock was a little broken from the twelve years of nothing, but by his best guess he had spent nearly an hour Remus' bathroom, using up more water and soap than Remus probably used in a year. It still didn't feel like enough.
The urge to run more water was hard to ignore but he also had an even more desperate need to go check on Harry and Remus. He didn't think Dumbledore was back yet because Remus would definitely have interrupted him for that. Or at least, he damn well hoped that Remus would interrupt.
He didn't bother glancing at himself in the mirror again, not even to check if the dozen charms he had done on his teeth had yielded any results. He figured he was just lucky that they were all still in there, even if at least a few needed some attention.
His haircut was something else he didn't need to see either. Literally anything was going to be better than the rat's nest he had just cut out. He hadn't needed to shave his head but his hair was shorter than it had been since second year and it was bound to look a little funny on him.
Stop stalling. It's only Remus.
Except it wasn't only Remus, it was Remus. There was so much left over between them that needed to be talked about that just the sight of him still made Sirius ache a little. He had dreamed for years of seeing Remus again and being able to slip back into their old skins, even though it had been so long and they were the leftover half of a broken band of brothers.
It wasn't easy. They weren't slipping right back in. That had been a childish dream and he needed to make peace with this new reality.
He opened the door as silently as he could and strained his ears for voices.
Was that… Was that Harry?
"… that Hagrid gave me from you?" His voice sounded just a little hoarse compared to what he imagined the kid usually sounded like. Surprisingly, his voice didn't sound much like James'.
"A fair few of them, I would imagine."
"But you weren't in any of them."
A pause, "I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to give you questions about who I was or who your father's friends were."
"Well, that didn't work. I had loads of questions about that. I kept wanting to look up the Gryffindors in his year so I could see who roomed with him but…"
"But what?"
"I wasn't sure… I don't know. I was too chicken, I guess."
There was a longer pause like Remus was trying to figure out if he was supposed to push for more answers or not. If it were James, he would have. James had a tendency to bury what bothered him so far down that on the rare occasion that something slipped out like had just happened with Harry, it was best to pounce on it and make him explain. Harry was a whole different breed though. Or maybe not. Still, it was too early to tell and they didn't know enough to risk it.
Harry, at least, seemed to sense what Remus was thinking and dove ahead to keep him from asking. "I think he was in one of the pictures though."
"Who?" Remus said, sounding surprised.
There was no verbal answer so Sirius guessed that Harry must have gestured to the bathroom in some way, like he was some Moaning Myrtle type who only inhabited tubs.
"Sirius, you mean? I told you, Harry, you can just call us by our names. Or Moony and Padfoot, if that's easier."
"Um, sure." Harry answered, like he wasn't sure what to do with such permission. "I think he was in one of the pictures."
Well, that was a surprise. If Remus hadn't given Harry any pictures of himself, he definitely wouldn't have given him any of Sirius. So who else had donated these pictures that Hagrid had given him?
"Really?" Remus asked. He sounded equally as surprised by this turn of events as Sirius.
"I think so. I don't know what he looks like, obviously. But there's a picture from my parents' wedding and it's got a man in it I've never seen before. He's got dark hair and he's laughing. He's right next to my dad."
Sirius closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That wedding felt like a million years ago. So much had happened and nearly none of it was what they had hoped for the night that picture had been taken. The only thing, in fact, was the boy talking about it.
It was time to stop lingering in a doorway and go out there. He was long overdue to actually speak to Harry.
He opened the door a bit wider. Almost instantly, Madame Pomfrey descended. He had forgotten about her.
"Get right back in there, Mr. Black." She said quietly but firmly. She walked forward, as though she were herding him.
Before Sirius knew what was happening, he was sitting on a conjured chair in the middle of Remus' bathroom with the mediwitch of a school he had graduated from nearly fifteen years and one aborted Azkaban term ago.
She clucked her tongue as she cast what seemed like an excessive amount of diagnostic charms on him. "It's both better and worse than I feared." She pronounced.
Sirius sighed for what felt like the millionth time. "I'm giving you six minutes to do your worst."
"Hmmm."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Pomfrey's spells and potions, while uncomfortable and noxious, made him feel warm and sleepy in a way that was hard to resist. At the same time, however, they finally gave him enough clarity to push that urge away.
There was still so much to do.
Sleeping would be better.
He smiled at his reflection with a grim quirk of his lips. It wouldn't be better, just easier. And even with all that Pomfrey had just done for him, he still didn't think he could actually rest until he knew the outcome from Dumbledore and Peter.
He wanted to be awake when the Aurors came.
He wanted to talk to Harry before he was taken away to the Ministry or even back to Azkaban. He might not have killed Peter but he was sure there were enough other crimes to scrape together a similar sentence.
Pomfrey will be talking to Remus right now. Probably in another room. Harry will be alone. No one watching and making it harder.
Go. Talk to him.
Sirius went.
Sure enough, Remus and Madame Pomfrey were conferring in the kitchen. They were probably dreaming up some disgusting schedule of potions for him to down. Their voices were audible, muffled by a heavy wooden door, but Sirius couldn't make out exactly what his doom was going to be.
If Remus is in the kitchen, then Harry should still be…
"Um, hullo."
Sirius turned slowly. He had initially missed Harry, who was curled up in a blanket on the couch. He had probably been laying down when he had first come out.
He walked over to the battered armchair adjacent to the couch and hesitated for just a second. After so long, the floor seemed like a better place for him. With more conscious thought than he had ever put into sitting, he dropped down into the chair wearily. "Hello."
They stared at each other.
"He-um, Moony? He says you're my godfather." Harry said slowly.
"I am." Sirius answered because that was easy. And yet again, here he was in a conversation he had dreamed of for a decade only to have no idea what to say. Everything seemed so inadequate.
I'm sorry I got your parents killed.
I'm sorry I didn't realize who Peter was sooner.
I'm sorry I didn't stay with you when I should have.
I'm so damned sorry.
He heard the words come out of his mouth before he registered what he was saying. "I'm sorry I haven't been there with you."
It wasn't enough.
Harry shook his head, "It doesn't sound like that's your fault."
Sirius laughed without humor, "Oh, Harry, it really is my fault."
Harry stared at him. His green eyes – Lily's green eyes – watched him so carefully he couldn't help but feel like he was being judged by all three of them. "How?"
How?
"I knew the traitor wasn't me and it wasn't your father. I guessed it was Remus and built the whole plan to keep you and your parents alive around it." Sirius answered. "I knew Remus better than I knew myself once, I should have seen the truth."
"In school this year, everyone found out that I can talk to snakes and thought that meant I'm the heir of Slytherin. Even people who I thought knew me pretty well." Harry said, "I know it's not the same but I get how being scared can make you think stupid things when you should know better."
Parseltongue? Heir of Slytherin?
Harry had said all of that excessively casually but he had sort of a challenging shine to his eyes that reminded Sirius of James before he started issuing dares.
If his godson thought that throwing out mentions of dark powers to a member of the Black family was going to disgust him enough to turn his back on a little boy he had been longing for, then the kid had another thing coming.
"I knew Remus for over eight years by then. After everything we went through together, I didn't trust him." Sirius said.
Harry seemed to relax just a little bit when he didn't comment on the speaking to snakes thing.
"But you trusted the other guy. Wormtail? And you knew him just as long and just as well." Harry said as if that changed anything. It just meant that Sirius was really and truly awful at reading people. Even with eight years and a fifty-fifty shot, he'd gotten it wrong.
"I underestimated him, ultimately." Sirius settled on. He would be more than happy to explain it all out to Harry and answer his every question, just maybe not tonight.
"And you think he's Scabbers?" Harry asked with a scrunched up frown that made him look about four years younger. It sort of made Sirius's heart ache. He had missed so much.
And, as an example of something he had missed, "Who is Scabbers?"
"Ron's pet rat." Harry answered, "Ron Weasley is my best friend. Well, him and Hermione Granger. We're all in Gryffindor together."
Sirius stared at him in utter shock.
I go to Azkaban and miss my godson's life and he gets to room with Harry at Hogwarts? That utter bastard!
A glass shattered on Remus's coffee table and Harry yelped.
"Sirius?" Remus called. A pair of rapid footsteps sounded from behind them, "Harry?"
Harry looked between the glass and Sirius. For a kid who had just had a guardian try to choke him, he looked curiously unconcerned by Sirius losing control of himself enough to shatter glass.
"I thought you knew he was at Hogwarts."
Sirius closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. He took a deep breath, "But not in your year. Not in your dorm. Not so close you would know some pet name for him."
Remus came up behind them and laid a cautious hand on Sirius' shoulder, "Harry told me he's never suspected Peter as anything other than a rat. He's never had strange visitors in their dorm, he's never even been bitten by him."
"He's really lazy. Mostly he sleeps," Harry said quietly.
Sirius took in another deep breath. Harry might not have looked scared but that didn't mean he wasn't. And then, even if he really wasn't scared, Sirius didn't want to set himself up as another volatile man in Harry's eyes. His poor godson had already dealt with enough of that.
Sirius was spared having to find some freshly disastrous thing to say by the fire flaring green and Dumbledore emerging.
The Headmaster surveyed the tense scene in front of him. Commenting on the tight atmosphere would definitely have been below him, though. He turned to Harry with a gentle smile, "Ah, Mr. Potter, I am glad to see you awake. I trust you feel better?"
"Yes, Professor." Harry answered solemnly.
"And I assume Remus and Sirius have gotten you up to speed?" He asked lightly, as though it was all a big game.
Sirius had to hold himself back from jumping up and shaking the old man to get one with it already.
Dumbledore turned to Pomfrey, "I think we've kept you from bed too long, Poppy. I will catch you up in the morning."
As graceful a dismissal as one could hope for. She seemed perfectly unbothered by it, just nodding and gathering up her things.
"I'll be back in a day or so to check on the both of you." Pomfrey said in parting. She stepped into the floo and was gone.
Dumbledore sat down in the chair across from Sirius heavily. For all that Dumbledore had his long white beard and lined face, Sirius was so rarely confronted with the idea that he was old. Really and truly old. He sat heavily but his eyes still twinkled. Sirius tried not to get his hopes too high.
"I won't keep you in suspense, my boy. We were able to arrest Peter Pettigrew." Dumbledore said.
All the air whooshed from Sirius.
Arrested. They've arrested Peter. Theyknow… and now the world will know.
Sirius leaned forward and touched his head to his knees, completely folded in half. He didn't think… He had dreamed of it but he hadn't ever really thought it would happen. Distantly, he felt Remus sit on the arm of his chair and rub his hand down his back but his whole focus was on those words repeating over and over again. Slowly, Dumbledore's voice morphed to James'. It didn't make what had happened to him, his death, any better but the thought that people would know that Sirius hadn't done it was such a deep relief.
Possibilities had hadn't ever really fully let himself realize spun out in crazed circles in his head. What did this mean? What happened next?
He heard Remus voicing those questions over his head.
"What will happen next is a testimony from you, my boy." Dumbledore said and Sirius was sure that he was the boy in question. "In the morning, or rather, later today. A formality to strengthen the case against Pe - Mr. Pettigrew."
Sirius took a deep breath and rose back up just enough to brace his knees on his legs. Harry peered at him carefully and Sirius wished he knew what his godson thought of him.
Or maybe he didn't.
"Here?" Remus asked, "Or at the Ministry."
"Considering the situation at hand, Amelia and I thought my office would be a good compromise." Dumbledore answered.
"You said formality." Sirius almost croaked.
Dumbledore peered at him carefully, "Once we administered the Veritaserum we were able to get quite a bit of incriminating information from him. Your questioning is to keep there from being any possibility of doubt but as I said, you have been essentially exonerated."
"And what about Harry." Sirius pressed.
Harry perked up, surprise visible on his face, "What about me?"
He won't want to live with a man he's barely met.
"I'm… you know I'm your godfather. Your parents meant for you to be with me if anything happened to them." Sirius said haltingly. He wasn't sure that would come across like an offer. Did he even mean it that way? He did. He wanted to be with Harry so badly… but was that the best thing for Harry?
He could see Dumbledore's polite refusal to allow such a thing to happen. Surely Harry would like almost anyone else. Sirius would really commit a murder before he let his godson go back to those people but there had to be other options now that the blood relatives weren't a choice. Arthur Weasley was a good man and apparently Harry was friends with his son.
"You want me to live with you?" Harry asked quietly. The look on his face was sort of disbelieving. Or maybe just confused. Sirius couldn't blame the kid, aside from the fact that he had barely worded it like a question, Harry had only known him for a conscious total of an hour in the boy's mind.
No matter what his godson thought or wanted, Sirius wanted to make sure he was safe and happy. If Arthur Weasley was who he wanted to live with or if he had something else in mind, Sirius would do his best to see it happen.
But if Harry wanted to live with him?
There was no question, not really.
He caught the boy's wide eyes and stared into them as steadily as he could manage, "I do." He answered. He tried to sound less scattered than he thought, "If that's what you want to do. I would love to. I don't have a house yet or a job and I'm probably kind of a mess from well, everything, but if…"
Harry cut him off, "I want to." He said firmly.
Sirius's stare went from 'filled with conviction' to 'filled with bewilderment', "Are you… are you really sure?"
Harry nodded. He definitely looked sure.
What did that say about the adults in Harry's life that Sirius Black, recently of Azkaban was the kid's top choice for replacement guardian?
"Okay," He said slowly, "That's what we'll do then."
"Do you think that's possible, Headmaster?" Remus asked because apparently he was both going to the downer and the realistic one in all situations in any given decade.
Sirius didn't bother turning to look at Dumbledore. He didn't much care for his permission now that he had Harry's. He wanted Harry to see that if Sirius was what Harry wanted then Sirius was who he was going to get, regardless of Dumbledore.
Dumbledore's murmured, "I think that's the least of what the Ministry will have to give Sirius in reparation." Was still an interesting statement for him to make, though.
Reparation? That could be rather fun.
The thought felt like it hadn't come from him. He knew, intellectually, that it had. He knew that himself now, himself before Azkaban, and James were all separate people. Still, it was a little difficult to make himself believe it, although the distance from Azkaban helped.
"I'm sure you'll want to find your own place but until you do my guest room and couch are open to the both of you." Remus offered quietly.
Harry nodded and didn't look put out by that so Sirius nodded too.
"I will come tomorrow morning and collect you Sirius. We'll go over things more in depth then." Dumbledore said when the silence between them stretched on a beat too long. He stood with a creak and waved his hand at Remus when the man made to get up from his perch next to Sirius. "Goodnight, my boys."
Silence filled the room and held on a second too long.
Then, Harry yawned.
He blushed immediately and covered his mouth with a slightly mortified expression. Sirius smiled at him as gently as he could. He wished the kid knew he absolutely did not need to be embarrassed in front of him but he figured that would come with time. Time that, apparently, they now had.
"You should get some more sleep." Sirius said. He glanced over at Remus, who was still perched next to him. Vaguely tired was kind of the werewolf's default look but Sirius knew the subtle levels of it enough to know that Remus was nearly as exhausted as he was. "All of us."
"Let me make you up a bed, Sirius." Remus said as he pulled himself up.
Sirius shook his head, "Don't worry about it. I'll curl up by the fire."
It was clear that he meant as Padfoot. Harry looked a bit intrigued even if Remus didn't look pleased. Probably something Pomfrey had told him to discourage for mental health purposes or some other nonsense. He solved both problems by transforming instantly and pointedly circling his spot in front of the fire while maintaining eye contact with Remus.
The other man let out a sort of chuckle that Sirius might have been able to label as fond.
He heard Remus point out his bedroom to Harry in case the boy needed anything, as if Sirius wasn't sticking close on purpose.
The lights dimmed with Remus' whispered spell and Sirius heard Harry slide back down into his nest of blankets on the couch. He could feel the boy's eyes on him. A good godfather would probably transform back so he could say something sage and reassuring.
The minutes dragged on as the stupidity of his choice became more and more apparent.
Why had he thought his presence would be in any way comforting to the kid? He was probably terrified to sleep near Sirius.
He twisted his head around slowly and raised his eyes up to Harry's.
Or he would have, but Harry's eyes were closed. His breathing was even and his face was relaxed. Five minutes and the boy was asleep as though a former Azkaban inmate wasn't just a few feet away.
His godfather was a few feet away. The godfather that saved him from his so called Uncle and a bad case of strangulation. The godfather that escaped Azkaban to try and protect him.
The thoughts sounded like James again. How long would that take to fade?
He couldn't deny the way the words made him feel. Maybe it could work, having Harry live with him the way they were meant to have been. Harry, at least, seemed at ease with it.
Sirius looked over his godson's sleeping face. He had to trust, that was all there was to it. If Harry was willing to try, if Remus could keep listening, if Sirius could keep fighting… they could be okay.
It was beyond anything that Sirius had hoped for even yesterday.
Remus listened.
Dumbledore listened.
I am not in Azkaban.
I am with Harry.
I am with Remus.
Peter cannot hurt us.
We will be together.
We will be okay.
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