One Step Ahead Part II | Sirius Black

Chapter 228

{{This is long, but I would rather post it as one chapter! Enjoy <3 }}

Sirius struggles to hold onto Gwen's hands, palms slick with sweat and tears wiped away furiously as they sprint through the street. A Muggle shouts a curse when Gwen nearly knocks him over, but they just keep moving. They have to keep moving. If they stop, Sirius is afraid he won't be able to move ever again.

Dead.

James and Lily Potter were dead. Harry would not know his parents as he should. Dead. And Sirius, beneath the rage and crushing anguish, feels the intolerable chill of guilt. His stomach churns with the withheld emotions, mouth watering with the threat of spilling his guts in all senses of the words.

Suddenly, as if she knows, the veela stops and yanks him into the shadows of a tall building, whirling around and facing him with wide eyes. Sirius feels his knees shaking, his palms sweating. Gwen holds his hand even as he leans forward and spews every feeling and emotion he's ever been capable of holding in his body. Gasping sobs wrack his body, a cough leaving him as Gwen squeezes his hand. Steady. She was steady, calm despite the panic cooling her eyes. Blue. He greedily looks up to see blue, whispering painfully, "It's all my fault."

"Sirius," She's never sounded so grave, so firm. She lets go of his hand and wraps her arms around him in a searing hug, one that he's certain he'll feel long after she lets go. He stares at the tears that jewel her hair, torn between finding it heartbreakingly beautiful and praying that he would stop crying. She squeezes tighter, insists loudly, "This is not your fault. It is not your fault."

"I killed them. Gwen, I-I don't understand."

She leans her head back, whispering furiously, "Do not say that again." Sirius winces slightly at the fire in her gaze, nodding solemnly. Gwen swallows audibly, "Do not say that, Sirius. Voldemort killed them—"

They both pause at the mention of the dark wizard, forgetting the taboo. Forgetting that there was a thing horrible and dark on this earth that would do something as savage as tearing Lily and James away from them. But then Gwen's expression twists to grim relief, "He's gone. Harry...somehow, he's gone." She reaches up and cups his face, palms warm. Sirius steels himself in that moment, strength surging from her touch and curling around his heart to solidify the dark feelings that were beginning to replace sorrow. Revenge. It must be heritable, the dark desire to kill. It was the only thing Sirius felt now, the thing that steadied his legs and cooled his palms. Voldemort was gone. Peter wasn't. And Sirius was going to fix that. He was going to fix this.

He nods once, rasping, "Let's go, Inferi. It's just him."

Gwen blinks, searching his face for something. Anything. The stony mask that greets her cracks the remaining piece of her heart. She wasn't sure what life would look like after this. She only knew that she wanted it, whatever it looked like. She wanted life, feared life in all its power to destroy the tattered remains of her resolve. They start running again, thundering down the streets of muggle London. Sirius is silent behind her, letting her guide, letting her think. 

The last she'd seen Peter he'd been excited to go out on his own, he had been positively chuffed about the potential of these streets. He told her of the candy shop, but her memory fails her when she tries to dig deeper. A name. She needed a name, a landmark. Something. She lets out a noise of frustration, stopping at a cross walk and peering down the streets. For a Tuesday afternoon, the streets were bustling with life. Cars blow past fast enough to kick wind up around her and Sirius, both of them searching for anything that would give Peter away. Her eyes catch a street sign just as a bus blows by, the words disappearing and reappearing in the blink of an eye. And it hits her, what she'd been looking for, why Peter had blushed when he'd told her the area where the candy shop was. He'd asked her not to tell the boys, that they would make fun of him being drawn to such a name.