Chapter One

Sirius Black came to with a start, lungs gasping and arms flailing in panic. He sat up, his breath hitching in his throat. His hands clawed at his chest, grabbing handfuls of cloth, and felt solid flesh beneath his desperate fingers. Solid flesh, not the mangled and mutilated tissue he was sure his cousin's curse was meant to deliver. Bellatrix's gaunt and sunken face drifted through his mind. He remembered the crazed and desperate glee that lit up her eyes as she pointed her wand at his chest and cast the spell that struck him in the chest and pushed him backwards.

He halted, his right hand still clutching the front of his robes, the fabric burned and singed, bits of it crumbling apart in his fingers. His chest hurt as if he had been burned.

The veil.

Had he fallen through the veil? Sirius twisted around as if he would be able to see the veil somewhere around him. But he saw nothing but tall dark shapes towering above him. He craned his neck to look upwards. They were trees. He was in the middle of a forest. Up above, the sky was crystal clear, a black ceiling with pinholes for stars shining down. A thin layer of snow blanketed the ground and an ever increasingly biting wind whipped through the trees. It sliced through Sirius' robes like shards of glass. He shivered.

Snow? He rolled over to his knees and carefully got to his feet. It was the middle of June, and if he remembered correctly, far too warm for there to be snow. Sirius crouched down and picked up a handful of the snow. It was heavy and wet. He packed the snow into a ball and chucked it at a tree not too far away. It hit with a wet splat. Sirius frowned.

Where was he?

Spinning in a circle, he gripped his wand and scrunched his face up into a grimace. This was not good. Not good at all. The battle at the Department of Mysteries surfaced in his mind. The rescue mission had turned into an utter chaotic mess. They had walked right into a trap, the place crawling with Death Eaters. And right in the middle of it all was Harry.

Oh, Merlin.

Sirius dragged his hands down his face, his wand loose in his fingers.

Harry.

He again turned in a circle, his footsteps muffled on the forest floor by the fresh snowfall. Off in the distance an owl hooted and then the distinct whoosh of wings spread wide as it took flight. It began to snow, large flakes drifting slowly downward, so gently as if in slow motion. He watched the snow start to come down and thought of his godson stuck in the center of a Death Eater trap, surrounded by those who wanted to kill him. Sirius' stomach turned. Where was Harry now? He hoped he was alright, that Moody, Remus, Tonks, and Shacklebolt managed to get Harry and his friends out of there.

All he remembered were bright flashes of spells being cast in a dizzying mess from every direction. How a bunch of children would survive that and escape, even with the Order's help, Sirius was finding it hard to believe. But if there was one person who would be able to get himself out of a mess like that, it would certainly be Harry. That kid had a penchant for not only finding himself in trouble but also for finding a way out of trouble.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, his ears ringing faintly.

The kid had been through so much in the past few years.

Sirius thought of the dozens of letters Harry had sent since the start of fifth year, letters filled with questions, worries and concerns. They were all letters Sirius couldn't fully answer. That sent a wash of guilt through his body. All Harry had wanted was the right to be informed. He was at the center of this war but the one kept in the dark. Sirius couldn't blame him for his outbursts this past year. His wave of guilt quickly flowed into anger, anger at himself. He was Harry's godfather and it was his responsibility to be there for the kid. A heavy weight hung from Sirius' heart. He had failed. He knew right then and there as he stood in the middle of the dark, snowy forest that he had failed his godson.

Way off in the distance, a wolf howled, a low and predatory sound. Sirius froze for a moment, his ears tuned to the sound but what followed was only silence. A lone wolf likely, he thought to himself.

He glanced up at the sky, the stars spread out like a map. Sirius spun in a slow circle, looking for a few recognizable constellations he could navigate by. There was no moon visible in the sky, the trees tall and expansive as they reached up towards the sky. Taking a few steps backwards as he located the north star, he tripped over what felt like a log and landed jarringly on his arse.

The log groaned.

Sirius scrambled forward, seeing a mess of dark hair contrasted against the snow. His hands grabbed at cloth, solid and warm flesh underneath. He had a brief, panicky moment where he thought a Death Eater had followed him through the veil to where ever he was but that was broken at the sight of his godson's face turning up at the sky as Sirius rolled the body over.

His breath hitched and caught in the back of his throat.

"H-Harry?" he managed to choke out. His hand shook his godson's shoulders.

Harry opened his eyes and gasped before letting out a low groan. He drew his knees up and blindly grabbed at Sirius's arms.

"Hey, hey," Sirius said, taking Harry's hands. "Calm down."

He watched as Harry squeezes his eyes shut and tried to turn onto his side, his hand pressing immediately to his side. Leaning over his godson, Sirius began checking for injuries, running his hands down his arms and legs and chest, finding nothing. Sirius looked at Harry's hand pressing against his side, his fingers gripped tightly. He took his godson's hand and unfolded the fingers.

Harry cried out.

"Shh," Sirius soothed. "Easy, you'll be okay."

Reaching to pull the edges of Harry's robe back, Sirius quickly found his fingers covered in hot, sticky blood.

"Oh, fuck," he said. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

A long cut sliced through Harry's side right beneath his ribs. Harry moaned and tried to move, causing blood to ooze out of the wound. Sirius gripped his wand, trying his damndest to remember the spell to heal large cuts. Hell, he would have taken remembering any healing spells, but none came forth, his mind empty. Sirius sunk his fingers into his hair, thinking for a moment before standing. He removed his robes and used his wand to cut a long wide strip from the black fabric.

"Alright, we'll just have to do this the muggle way," he muttered to himself, kneeling down and using his wand to help him wind the make-shift bandage around Harry's torso. Tying it off, he cast a hover charm, the boy floating upwards. Sirius glanced upwards at the stars once more. It was then that he saw the moon, slowly rising over the tops of the trees, already nearly at the apex of the sky. It hung, large and swollen, a glowing orb in the sky. It was a sight that made Sirius shiver as if hit with a chilling charm.

With his wand pointed at Harry, he began walking, his boots making a muffled crunch through the snow and underlying brush. He guided his godson between the trees but soon gave up on the hover charm. Grabbing Harry's arms, he heaved his godson's weight over his left shoulder and began walking at a pace that was a near half-run.

Every gust of wind sounded like a wolf's howl to Sirius' ears. He recalled the wolf's howl from earlier and wondered if it had been a wolf or something worse. The notion of being stalked through the dark wood by a werewolf was not one Sirius wanted to entertain despite having extensive experience in his younger years of running with one. However, that had been different. That had been Moony and he had been in his animagus form along with Prongs. It was different, so different than his current situation.

Harry's weight shifted as they boy strained against Sirius's grip.

"Whoa," he said, his knees nearly buckling as his godson's weight slid off his shoulder. Sirius lowered him to the ground, Harry muttering a slurred string of words. Sirius leaned down. "What was that?"

"Sirius?"

"Yeah, kid, I'm right here."

"Wha' happened?"

"That's a story for another time," Sirius said. "We have to get out of here. Do you think you can walk?"

"Sure," Harry said. He opened his eyes for a moment, only to close them after the effort required was too much.

Sirius took his arm and tried to haul Harry to his feet but the boy was dead weight.

"C'mon Harry," Sirius grunted.

"'M trying," Harry said, his head lolling to the side. "Why'm I so tired?"

"I don't know, kid," Sirius said. "Do you know what you were hit with?"

"Hit with?"

Sirius gave up. Harry groaned and slumped back down to the ground. Sweat starting to run down through Sirius' hair, he knelt down again and lifted Harry onto his shoulder.

"Oww," Harry groaned, the noise turning into a muffled scream as Harry buried his face in Sirius' robes.

Sirius grimaced. "Sorry, kid," he said.

"Why do I hurt so much?"

"I think you were hit with a nasty curse back at the Department of Mysteries."

"Department of Mysteries?"

"Yeah, do you remember?"

"Kinda," Harry said softly, his head hanging limply. "It was a trap."

Sirius sighed.

"'M sorry, Padfoot."

"There's no need."

"Mione was right," he muttered.

"Right about what?"

"I have a saving-people-thing."

"You know, that's not always a bad thing."

"It is when it gets your friends caught in a Death Eater trap."

Sirius said nothing, his stomach clenching painfully, and just focused on walking as fast as possible. He felt hands grip tighter into his robes, his godson's head resting against his upper back. Harry was small for his age but still a considerable weight when thrown over one's shoulder while walking briskly through uneven terrain. Sirius tightened his grip on Harry.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are we?"

Sirius glanced upwards, the moon just starting its descent in the sky. There were still hours left before dawn.

"I don't know."

"How'd we get here?"

"I think it was the veil in the Department of Mysteries."

Harry said nothing. Off in the distance a noise rose high in the night.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

Sirius's heart sped up as did his feet. "Nothing to worry about," he said. He willed his ears to transform into canine ears, using them to listen carefully to the sounds around him. He heard the normal forest nighttime sounds. Owls hooting softly in the distance and leaves rustling in the wind. Under all that were footsteps, determined footsteps moving with a purpose.

The wolf howled.

Harry's head jerked up. "Sirius..."

"I know, I know," he said, wrapping both arms around around Harry and taking off in a run.

Branches swiped across Sirius' face, leaving burning tracks through his skin. But he paid the sensation no mind, focused too intently on the sound of the werewolf that was succeeding in tracking them. He focused on keeping his footing, his feet slipping and sliding through the snow covered forest floor. And all through this, Harry's cries and grunts of pain shoved icy spikes into his heart. His godson was in pain, but if he didn't run fast enough, his godson would have more to worry about.

Sirius ran between two thin trees and half slid down an embankment. He regained his footing and continued running. From the corner of his eye, he watched a dark shadow keeping pace with them. His legs began to burn, muscles straining to keep up the frantic pace as his lungs seared. He ran down a small embankment and splashed through a small stream, his toes going numb as icy water leaked through his boots. He stumbled as he tried to get up the other side, falling heavily to one knee. Harry slid off Sirius shoulder and landed on the ground with a pained grunt. Sirius hovered over his godson, using his own body to protect the boy.

And then it emerged, growling and teeth bared, lunging for them. Sirius let instinct take over, shifting into Padfoot and standing over Harry to shield the injured pup. He pulled his lips back and growled. The wolf took the gesture as no threat and leapt forward, eyes intent on injured prey.

A stag burst from the trees at a full run and ran his head into the soft underbelly of the werewolf. The stag snarled, using his teeth to chomp in the werewolf's face and giving the beast a good jab or two with his antlers. The werewolf backed down.

Padfoot shifted back to human form. Sirius fell back onto his arse and scooted several feet to the side, his mind not believing what his eyes were seeing.

"P-Prongs?"

OOO

Author's Note

So, it has been a very long time since I have done this. It's both a bit strange to be writing HP fanfiction again and a whole lot like coming home. I got the idea for this story about a week ago and had to have a go at it. Let me know what you think.