They skirted around each other for the next day but when there are only two occupants in the house, they had to interact at some point.

Sirius knew not to broach the topic of the previous day. If Harry was anything like him growing up, confronting him on it would only push him further away. So he was leaving it in Harry's pitch to approach him when he was once again comfortable. He tried to push the whimpers he heard at night out of his head. All he could do for Harry was show him he was there for him and hope he trusted him enough to confide in him.

It didn't take long, especially when all that filled the silence was Kreacher's mad ramblings.

With the last few weeks, Harry had grown comfortable in their routine and couldn't stand the absence of conversation, the hours lost in his own mind.

He no longer had the courage to reveal his deepest secret but he also had another burning curiosity that needed to be sated. His conversations with Sirius had answered many if not most of his questions concerning his past. He knew the man could answer one more.

"How'd you find me?"

"Hmm?" Curious eyes looked up from his cooling breakfast, porridge spilling from his mouth.

Harry had to hold back his snort at how uncouth his godfather was but he wouldn't have him any other way. He placed his utensil down as he spoke again, a tilt in his voice.

"You found me at the orphanage."

It wasn't exactly a secret that he lived at an orphanage but he didn't broadcast that information with the exception of a handful of people knowing exactly where he lived. Sirius didn't know that. Sirius had only known Dumbledore had taken him all those years ago. So how did he know where to find him when he escaped prison?

Sirius swallowed his mouthful, mulling over how to answer that question. There wasn't anything untoward or shocking about it. They were familiar enough with each other and had shared much of their past, it wouldn't be shocking for Harry to know how he had found him. To be honest, it was laughingly easy and concerning considering a diligent Death Eater could've done the same and found him years ago.

"I knew Dumbledore would want to keep you out of the public eye and the only possibility for that is the Muggle World. But he couldn't trust you with just any muggle family. I knew all about Petunia and her walrus husband. Met him once before," he threw a conspiratorial wink to Harry to try and ease the tension that had appeared at the mention of his aunt and uncle.

It wasn't that they still scared him, it had been years since he had been scared of the Dursley's, but hearing his aunt's name sent him back to when he was a seven year old boy locked in a too-small cupboard under the stairs in too-big clothes and too-little to eat.

"They still live in the same house so they weren't too hard to find. When I didn't see you, I politely inquired with Petunia of your whereabouts." He kindly left out the part where she angrily stated that she had never wanted the freak, how she hoped he was dead like his rotten parents. It was all he could do with his fragile sanity to not kill that family. He didn't need to know the details of what happened in that house, it was the past and if Harry wanted to keep it buried, he would. What mattered was the present and moving forward with their lives.

Harry scoffed at that, "I'm surprised she bothered remembering the name. All she ever wanted was to pretend that I didn't exist."

All he had ever been to her was 'boy' 'freak', never Harry.

It was with as much tact as Sirius had that he asked his next question softly. He had to know how badly he had screwed up, how much Harry had suffered for his actions. "How long ago?"

With the same detachment he had told Hermione all those months ago, Harry responded, "I was 8," and with some reluctance, he told his story to someone else for the first time. "Dudley had taken my homework again and turned it in as his own. Our teacher brought me up and scolded me in front of the whole class. It was humiliating being up there, compared to Dudley. Why weren't you as prepared as Dudley? Why weren't you as smart as Dudley? Why don't you take care of your appearance like Dudley?"

He clenched his fists as red hot anger shot threw him at the memories, Sirius noting the thin white scars that decorated his knuckles. The mark on his neck burned but not as strong as the anger he felt. "I just wanted her to shut up! The next thing I know, she collapsed. Everyone ran out screaming and I couldn't move. There was a part of me that was happy she was suffering. Everyone was questioned but I could see the fear in their eyes: they thought I had done something to her. By the time I got back to the Dursley's, Dudley had already told his version of events and that was the last straw. Vernon drove me into London with nothing except the clothes I was wearing and forced me to walk up to the doors and claim I was a runaway orphan. And they took me in with no questions," his voice broke at the end. No matter how many times he said this didn't matter to him, it didn't take away the fact that his only family was so easily able to throw him away and face no consequences. No one questioned where he went, no one questioned why he had no records, and no one cared enough to take a look.

Life at the orphanage was considerably better than the Dursley's but presented its own unique problems. There were around two dozen other children of varying ages. Harry was by no means the youngest child there but he was the newest to the system and that put a target on his back. The ridicule of being abandoned by his family followed him for over a year before he became just another face in the same boat as everyone else.

No one wanted them outside the orphanage and no one wanted to be friends inside the orphanage, not when you didn't know how long someone would be there. It was easier to go without attachments. Kids like Lucas found belonging in the street gangs. He'd come back maybe once a fortnight before disappearing again. He introduced Harry and the other boys to drugs one summer. That was also the last time they had seen him. There had been many Lucas's over the years. He wondered if the same had happened to Damien while he was gone.

Dot tried her best but there was only so much one person could do and her time went to the most vulnerable of the group: the toddlers and infants. Harry wasn't ignorant of the dark side of London. He'd seen the drugs, sex, and violence that kids like him fell into.

Maybe where other adults couldn't understand him, Sirius could.

Sirius had sat upright and pushed his breakfast away when Harry started talking, giving him his undivided attention. There was very little holding him back as Harry detached himself from his story, similar to when Sirius had divulged the reason he had run away.

Merlin, he wished he had done more to that lady before he left.

Lily and Remus would be proud of him for what he did next. Instead of losing his temper, he took a deep calming breath and pushed those negative emotions away. There would be time for those later. Going with his recent behaviour change, Sirius put away his feelings to focus on Harry.

Moving around the table that separated them, he gently placed his tattooed hand on his godson's knee, bringing his attention back to the present.

Crinkling his eyes to display reassurance, Sirius repeated the words that had been said to him so long ago by Dorea Potter, Harry's grandmother.

"You're not a bad person. You're a very good person who bad things have happened to. We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on." Grey met green and he can see how much this has weighed on the boy all these years and with recent events, his virtue has once again been put into question.

"It might be hard for you to see it yourself but that's why I'm here. I'll always protect you, believe in you, love you until my very life leaves this body. There is no one more important in this world to me than you!"

Harry chewed on his bottom lip before averting his eyes. But Sirius had seen he had made an impact so, with a soft smile, he pulled out the gift he had been saving for later that day, "Happy birthday, Harry."

Harry turned back so quickly Sirius swore he heard his neck pop.

Tenderly grabbing the parchment covered (poorly wrapped) present, shaking hands slowly tore it open. This was his first birthday present ever!

A chocked gasp of wonderment escaped those lips as Harry, for the first time in his life, set his eyes on his parents as they waved excitedly up at him.

They were…they were so beautiful, Harry thought in wonderment as for the first time he could see just how much he looked like his father and that, yes, he did have his mother's eyes. They were happy.

"That was taken just after Lily found out she was pregnant," Sirius supplied, pointing to the date on the back of the photo. He had taken it, along with a handful of other items, from Godric's Hollow when he had first escaped.

Wide eyes look up at that before returning to the moving picture in awe; they were that happy…because of him…? No one had ever been that happy about him.

With the gears turning in his head, Harry suddenly remembered that, yes, it was his birthday! Which meant he was supposed to meet Derrick at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow! How could he have forgotten that?!

Standing abruptly from his chair, causing Sirius to fall on his bottom, Harry ran off to find the last letter Derrick had sent him.

Sirius was left in an empty kitchen, not quite sure what had happened.

Shrugging, he picked himself up and finished his porridge after pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey.

With all the pounding and clinking going on upstairs, Sirius sighed and figured it was time to see what had gotten Harry so antsy so suddenly. He had hoped that the picture of James and Lily would be a nice present for Harry…maybe he had messed up?

Seeing all his clothing and books spread across the room, Sirius let out a chuckle. Harry was never so disorganized so to see him act like a proper teenage boy was funny for him.

"Miss a hot date?"

Harry didn't even look up from where he was going through papers, "No. I completely forgot I'm supposed to meet Derrick tomorrow at the Leaky Cauldron! His last letter had the time we were gonna meet."

Derrick? Ah, the Quidditch Captain friend. Well, this did present a problem.

Dumbledore had kept Harry's disappearance out of the papers so far but if Harry didn't show up, there would be no hiding the fact that Sirius Black had Harry Potter which meant even more eyes on them. This wasn't good. If he was to find Pettigrew, he couldn't have every magical in Britain looking for him. He also knew the second it was released that Harry was in his custody, Remus would have no choice but to confess to their teenage escapades. No one would believe his innocence if he didn't have Pettigrew as proof. They couldn't risk separating though. If they did, Sirius would never see Harry again. Dumbledore would confine him to the castle and set guards around him. But the devils were inside Hogwarts and only he and Harry knew!

Mind made up, Sirius flicked his father's wand and everything began organizing itself into its proper piles and packing away neatly into Harry's trunk.

Frantic eyes turned to him questioningly.

"We'll pack everything today and leave for the Leaky Cauldron tonight. We'll book a room for the night and meet your friend tomorrow."

Harry looked at him like he had finally cracked. "You're a wanted man," he said slowly, eyebrow raised. "Your face'll be on every corner!"

And Sirius got that look when he had a most creative prank, "Sirius Black is wanted but Padfoot is a poor street dog you're caring for."

A light went off and Harry's jaw dropped in disbelief. That could never work! Never!

A few hours later, Harry was closing up Number 12 Grimmauld, trunk shrunk in his knapsack and Padfoot happily biting at his heels.

If they got away with this, Harry was never going to doubt Sirius ever again.

They were more than a couple of blocks away from Grimmauld Place heading to Angel Station and Harry had never felt more exposed. They had been holed up in the Black Family home for three weeks and in that time, he had allowed himself to fully relax. The centuries of family magic on top of the untraceable charms placed on the house assured the duo that they would never be found. As Lord Black, Sirius controlled who could come and go. This meant for the first time in months, he didn't have to look over his shoulder for Riddle. Out here with no such protections, Riddle was free to find him, free to torment him once again. It could turn into the Chamber all over again, this time with Sirius dead at his feet.

Riddle could kill Sirius in front of him to prove his point. Lockhart had been a warning, one that had frightened him then and terrified him now. What if he was putting Derrick and his mom in danger by staying with them?

A cold nose nudged at his hand, startling him out of his traitorous thoughts as they ran away from him.

Swallowing thickly, Harry took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He couldn't let this paranoia take hold of his life. They were in the middle of Muggle London, Riddle couldn't do anything to him here.

"Thanks, Padfoot," he smiled at his godfather, gently petting his head.

He turned his attention to his surroundings. It was amazing how much London refused to change in his time away. The business people rushing to get home for supper, the teens hanging out down the next alley sharing a smoke, the endless cabbies picking up and dropping off tourists or partiers on this Saturday night. He smiled confidently to the policeman that passed him, she smiled back without question.

Harry had been taught how to evade the suspicion of law enforcement years ago. As long as his clothes were clean and put together, all he needed to do was connect with brief eye contact and an easy smile. It told them he was supposed to be here, that he wasn't scared of them because he wasn't doing anything illegal…which was true but once people found out you were an orphan, they began to treat you with suspicion. Grocers were the most suspicious, shops next on the list. He'd been escorted out of both more than once.

Padfoot ran ahead of him into a large gathering of crows that cawed at him angrily. Few stopped or even glanced at the large black dog barking happily. Few even turned and walked in the other direction. Padfoot did make for a frightening sight, Harry silently admitted to himself. He was still skin and bones with patches of matted hair. Sirius needed this freedom.

Harry crossed his arms, hands brushing his hidden wand. Before they left, Sirius had gifted him his old wand holster. It gave him comfort out here that if something did happen, he could quickly defend himself.

"Harry!"

Freezing at the shout of his name, he focused on how far away Sirius was. If they needed to get away fast –

"Harry?" A hand grabbed his shoulder before he could bolt and he barely restrained himself from flinching away to pull out his wand, recognizing the boy – well, man – in front of him. Chest heaving as he tried to starve off a panic attack, he tried to force a smile. "It is ya! Bloody hell, y've grown!"

Standing in front of him was Simon, a boy from the orphanage who had aged out of the system two years before.

"Simon!"

He had to calm his breathing. The hair was a shade too light and the eyes were all wrong.

"It's been ages, 'asn't it? Wot 'ave ya been up ter?"

Simon threw his arm over Harry's shoulder like they were old mates. He could smell the alcohol on his breath right away.

"That ole mut yors? Yer still wiv Dot or did yer cop some sense into yer?"

Carefully extracting his body from the man, Harry carefully thought out a response. Simon was always after something and he didn't want the man making a scene.

"I got adopted a few weeks back. The old man works the graveyard at the Met. We're meeting up for a bite."

Padfoot finally came back, nose nudging at Harry's hand, letting out a warning growl.

Simon's eyes cleared enough to see the threat presented and backed away with a laugh, "Always knew ya were different!"

Harry watched his old housemate turn and scamper away, heart racing at the probability of running into someone he knew in the hustle and bustle of London. He and Simon had never been close, Harry choosing to stay clear of the drug user. This was all rather off.

As if sensing his urgency, Padfoot started off in a trot, glancing back for Harry to follow which he did. The quicker he made it to the Leaky Cauldron, the better. Jogging into Angel Station, Harry didn't relax until he and Padfoot were comfortably on their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

Padfoot rested with his head on Harry's feet, letting the lull of the train put him to sleep. He couldn't afford himself that luxury. He had to be on his toes, especially with what happened a few minutes ago.

It was their final stop before exiting when Harry shot up from his seat, kicking Padfoot on accident and drawing irritated looks from the other passengers.

There! On the platform was…Where did he go?!

Harry plastered himself to the opposite window, desperately looking back to the platform as the train took off. Riddle had been there, he had been! He was positive it was the teenager! He looked the same as that day in the Chamber only with modern clothes. The same devil smile, curl of hair…it had to be him.

But why hadn't he entered the train? Why let Harry see him? Was Simon part of some twisted game Riddle was playing to show his power over Harry? His hand reached up to itch at his neck, his mark suddenly burning as his brain told him to scratch it off.

He shouldn't have left Grimmauld Place! This was a terrible idea.

Whining brought him from this torturous thoughts, grounding him in the present. Looking around, he was gaining more attention than he wanted, a few looking to press the panic button, while others looked to approach. Taking a deep, grounding breath he sat himself into his seat, Padfoot placing both his paws on his knees, snout even with his face, looking him directly in the eyes as if to communicate that everything was okay. Bringing shaky hands up to grip the shaggy fur, Harry held onto it like it was a lifeline at this point, burying his face into the black hair to try and regain his composure.

Was this what his life was going to be like from now on? Constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for the day Riddle reappeared?

He couldn't get off the train fast enough as he booked it to the loo for some privacy.

Padfoot trotted after him, transforming the second the door closed and they were alone.

Sirius gathered Harry into his arms, consoling the trembling boy the best he could. He was in the dark on what had caused such a reaction. Rubbing his back, he just tried to be as reassuring as possible until Harry could gather himself to tell him what had happened.

"He – he was there! I saw him – ever since we left Grimmauld Place, I had this odd feeling…Then Simon showed up! He's toying with me!" Harry was almost in hysterics.

"Hey, hey, who's toying with you?"

"Riddle!"

His blood ran cold. Harry had told him all about Riddle and what he was capable of. If he really was following them, he was smarter than Sirius had feared. If he knew where to find Harry, knew who he was…they needed another plan. The Leaky Cauldron wouldn't be safe against Riddle if he truly was back for Harry.

He thought fast, going over their options.

"We'll go to Gringott's first. There's a wand store in Knockturn Alley. I need a more compatible wand than my father's. Then, we can send an owl to your friend."

Crouching so he was eye level with his godson, Sirius put as much sincerity into his voice as he could, willing it not to crack so that Harry could grasp onto his strength.

"I swore to keep you safe. If you want to run, we'll run. We'll keep running and never look back."

Harry looked up at those words, mulling them over as turmoil raged in his eyes. He wasn't sure if he could do this, live like this. What was he scared of? He wasn't scared Riddle would kill him. Death didn't scare him much these days. What terrified him was the possibility that he could become like Riddle. Like he had said, they were alike, the two of them. This was compounded by the fact Harry was harbouring a piece of his soul inside him. Something only two other people were privy to. What if he turned into Riddle and destroyed those he cared about? What if he was always meant to go bad and that was the reason Voldemort attacked his family all those years ago? What if…?

"We'll never look back," Sirius repeated again, this time more forcefully to convey how far he was willing to go for Harry. If he asked, Sirius would give up his hunt for Pettigrew, leave the rat to his miserable existence. He would turn away from all that he knew if Harry wished it.

And Harry could see that, see the conviction shining in those storm grey eyes. He couldn't ask that, couldn't ask Sirius to do that for him. If they started running now, he knew they would never stop. So, taking a deep, calming breath, Harry squared his shoulders and rubbed at his face, pulling himself together. He was Harry Potter, the most magically talented student in his year. He saw the way the other students looked at him: they were scared of his abilities. It was time to pull that Gryffindor bravery the Sorting Hat had spoken of, the bravery his parents had displayed.

"No. We're not going to run. I'm not going to give him that power."

Merlin, he wished he felt as brave as he sounded.

Sirius searched his face, looking for anything that would tell him differently. But Harry was strong, like his parents. He was so like his parents that it sometimes physically hurt to be around him. His tattooed hands rose to cup the tears stained cheeks, the fierce eyes full of determination as his thumbs wiped away the tear trails. "Together," his hoarse voice bounced off the bathroom walls, his final promise to his friends, the only thing he could do right, "Always."

Twelve years ago, he didn't put Harry first and they both suffered for that mistake. He had learned since then, grown in the confines and isolation of Azkaban. He had broken out for this very reason, had held onto his sanity for this moment.

Sirius Black was known for many things, some of which he had rightfully earned, others that had been forced upon him. He had never been the responsible one, the mature voice of reason, he hadn't always been nice either. Sirius Black knew he wasn't a good person, he had made too many mistakes to be able to claim that title. Hell, he hadn't even been a good brother!

These last few weeks weren't enough. He had to step up and get his act together if he was going to protect and raise Harry!

He wouldn't allow them to live in fear, holed away in a dusty old house for protection. He had his period of acclimatization, now it was time he started stepping into his role as Godfather!

Revenge didn't matter anymore, clearing his name didn't matter, finding Remus to explain everything…even that didn't matter.

The only thing of importance was the teenager in his arms whom he pulled into his chest, his thin arms wrapping around him as tight as he could. He surprised himself with the action but relaxed when the body against him slowly lost its tension and Harry hesitantly brought his arms up to return the hug.

They were in this together, whatever may happen.