ᗰOOᗰY ᗩᑎᗪ ᗪᗩᗪᖴOOT

Prologue

31st October 1981

He was gone.

She was gone.

How could this have happened to his best friends? A friend who was like a brother, his wife, and their son.

Their son.

Sirius pulled himself together and slowly stepped over the dead body of Lily Evans. He had closed her eyes for her and smoothed her vibrant hair down. She could have been sleeping.

But she wasn't.

Harry Potter was crying in his crib, rocking back and forth, staring at his mother laying flat on the floor.

How did this happen?

Peter Pettigrew.

The rat.

The traitor.

Sirius should have been watching his every movement. Done something before something dreadful happened.

But it was too late.

He knelt in front of Harry. The lightning bolt scar was fresh on his forehead. The curse rebounded. He was alive.

He was alive.

He was left with both his parents dead.

He was an orphan.

Sirius realised that he was crying. Tears flowed like rivers down his face. Harry knows him: uncle Padfoot. If only uncle Moony was there. He promised he would be. He promised that he would get Dumbledore. He promised that everything would be okay.

Sirius carefully lifted Harry into his arms. He tried his hardest to comfort the baby but he needed comforting himself.

From outside he heard a low rumble of a motorbike. His motorbike. Sirius walked with Harry to the door of the bedroom. He took one last look at the body of Lily before he reluctantly walked down the stairs. He had to see James again. He felt sick. Nausea rose in the back of his throat. Then the gigantic figure of Rubeus Hagrid appeared in the already open doorway. Harry began to wail; a gurgling sound from the back of his throat, small fists pounding against Sirius's chest.

"Terrible," Hagrid said, shaking his head and blowing his nose on an old tablecloth which he kept in his pocket. "So young... and little 'Arry."

Sirius just nodded, tears never-ending as he held Harry tight in his arms.

"S'not fair," Hagrid continued. "Oh..." he seemed to come to his senses and he looked directly at Sirius. "Best go..."

He took a step backwards and hit his head on the doorframe as he walked out of the house. Sirius followed him with shaking legs, Harry still thumping his chest through his leather jacket. The winter night sent a chill over the world. Sirius felt like he would never be happy again.

"Where are we going?" Sirius asked, his voice croaky and rasping.

"The Dursleys," Hagrid said. "Where little 'Arry will live," his voice cracked and he blew his nose again.

"Can't he live with Remus and me?" Sirius said, desperate not to let Harry out of his sight.

Hagrid shook his head.

"Dumbledore's orders," he said.

Sirius felt a wave of anger wash over him. When he looked back on that night, he will realise that he was angry from the beginning but at that moment he hated Dumbledore. Harry needed people that he knew. People he was familiar with. Not some aunt and uncle that he had never met. Not some strange house he had never been to. He was ripped from his parents - or his parents ripped from him - he needed somewhere that he would be properly looked after as if he was their own. Sirius hoped Remus and he could take him in to do just that.

Hagrid led him to the motorcycle and he sat in the driver's seat. Sirius held Harry close to his chest but Hagrid stretched his arms out to take him.

"I'll keep 'im safe and warm," he said and Sirius slowly gave Harry to him. Hagrid placed him inside his travelling cloak, ensuring he was secure. "You wan' te side-long?"

Sirius nodded and got into the sidecar. He once managed to convince Lily to sit there with Harry on her lap as he drove the motorcycle. She point blank told Sirius that she'd hate it and she only got in to stop him from badgering her. But after a few minutes of listening to Harry giggle, she began to relax and by the time they got back to Godric's Hollow she was beaming, her cheeks flushed and eyes alight.

Hagrid started the motorcycle and they set off on the journey to Privet Drive. Of course, at the time, Sirius had no idea where they were going. It was a blur for him: hearing the news, going to see James and Lily without a second thought, taking Harry, getting into the motorcycle and arriving at the house.

Not just any house.

Harry's new home.

Dumbledore was there, and so was McGonagall. Remus had been sent home and Sirius was told to go too, as soon as eyes were laid on him. He refused and argued that he should take Harry home, he could look after him - with Remus. But Dumbledore said that he had made the decision and Harry was safest at the Dursleys.

Eventually, Sirius left. He bid his goodbyes to Harry. He promised he would be back.

He promised.

He would be back.

And then he left.

He and Remus had a flat. They bought it as soon as they left Hogwarts. They were free. They were a happy young couple.

Now.

Now Sirius stumbled through the door and straight into Remus's arms. They clung to each other and they both wept.

Wept for James.

Wept for Lily.

Wept for Harry.

Wept for all they had left: each other.

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