A/N: Er, hello. I know, I know. Pathetic attempt to once again bring back Sirius. *grins*.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the rock that resides in my house. I have named him Bob. Say hello to the readers, Bob.
Bob: .....
Well, isn't he a social rock? *pets the rock*
Oh, and by the way I think I should mention this before you read the story.... This is AU (alternate universe) fic. Obviously by the way this story goes, it should be apparent.
************************************************************************
~Where are you Christmas ~
It was his 7th Christmas, the 6th one at his Aunt and Uncle's house and seven year old Harry stared aimlessly in front of him, a blank expression covering his small face. And even though he seemed as though he couldn't notice the things going on in the room next to his cupboard, he knew what was happening very well.
He could hear the distant Christmas music playing, reminding the family of the special day filled with love. He could hear his Aunt Petunia swooning over his abnormally large cousin. He could hear Uncle Vernon laugh loudly.
"It isn't like I actually wanted them to love me anyway," he tried reassuring himself. But it was a complete lie in every way There was nothing more he wanted then love and reassurance.
Every other day of the year he was able to keep the tears away. But on a day like today, it was the hardest thing in the world to be strong when he was yearning for so much more in his heart.
~Why can't I find you~
"Harry!" Harry whipped his head towards the door as though the one who had been calling him had suddenly appeared. He steadily got to his feet, cautiously opened hid cupboard door, and began to make his way slowly towards the living room. He had never been talked to before on Christmas. They always ignored him as though he had never existed.
He turned the corner and looked into the living room, full of wrapping paper and toys. The fire was going and he could hear the music more clearly now. He walked in to see his uncle holding out a present for him.
"Well, here you are," he said. Harry took the present, dumbfounded. It was a huge present. It had a small green bow on top and covered in red wrapping paper. He had never received a present with this.
Shaking, he began unwrapping it. As soon as he did, he found a box. He opened it quizally to find another wrapped box. Then another. And another. And another. And another. until finally-
"Dirt," he said quietly. Inside the smallest box possible was filled with dirt. Harry looked at it in complete confusion, not daring to let his mind comprehend what had happened.
~Why have you gone away ~
While Harry was looking at the dirt again, Dudley smacked his face into the box. Harry's glasses broke with a sickening crunch and dirt smeared all over his pale face. He felt hot tears spring to his eyes.
And then, as though covering his face in dirt was good enough, his Uncle rounded on him. "This 'gift' is what you are to us. Dirt."
He could distantly hear his family roaring with laughter. It was bitter, and cold. Not the kind of laughter most hear on Christmas day. His shoulders slumped and he ran to his cupboard in a desperate attempt to escape it all.
With the small box of dirt enclosed tightly in his small hand, he threw himself into the small space, his heart painfully constricting against his chest. He threw the box against the wall angrily.
'Just don't cry, Harry. Don't cry. Don't let them see you hurt. Don't let them know you're in pain.' But no matter how hard the small boy's mind tried to convince him that crying was hopeless and made the pain increase, it couldn't stop the heart wrenching sobs that escaped from him. His heart torn leaving him helpless and almost completely hopeless.
Harry quieted himself enough to sit back on the mattress still sniffling back the tears. He had tried everything for 6 years to get them to like him. But everything ended up with more hatred being thrown in his face,
He lowered his head and let the tears fall again. It felt terrible knowing that love wasn't there. But he was convinced, somewhere, somehow, someone must care about him. And if he could hang on to that hope, he knew they could never fully break him.
~Where is the laughter ~
Harry closed his eyes for a minute, blocking out all the surrounding sounds. He had dreamed about his parents before. He almost knew what they looked like. He imagined them sitting by the fire, Harry on his mother's lap, playing with her fire-red hair.
None of them spoke. They seemed content to just sit and gaze into the seemingly unending depths of the fire that burned under their gaze.
His father was standing behind them, an arm around his mother, smiling at Harry as he laid his head against his mom's chest and closed his eyes.
He felt someone stroke his head, and he lay, content, in her arms. The cackling of the fire in the backround.
"We love you, forever, Harry," Harry felt tears spring to his eyes. Had they ever loved him? Or hated him as his aunt and uncle said they did?
Harry opened his eyes to look into his mother's face for one last time.
"Harry-" He shut his eyes again
"Harry!"
"BOY GET OUT HERE!"
~You used to bring me~
Harry snapped open his eyes and brushed away the stray tears on his face. Not bothering to yell through the door to ask what his uncle wanted, he opened the door and walked forward, standing in front of his uncle, head bowed.
"Boy! Are you trying to ruin this for us?" Harry quickly shook his head no, not daring to speak.
"I called you three times!" Harry fidgeted nervously. He had been dreaming about his parents and must not have been paying attention.
"Sorry," He said quickly. Before he knew what was happening, he fell to the floor, clutching his stinging eye. He choked back the tears.
"I am a sir to you, boy," he said gruffly. Harry saw his aunt come up behind his uncle and rest a hand on his beefy shoulder.
"Don't let him," she said the last part nastily with a sneer. "upset you today, dear."
Uncle Vernon grunted and lifted Harry up by the scruff of his neck. He threw him out into the snow, not bothering to give him a jacket.
"We have a party we have to in a few hours. You will be staying out here and shoveling until we leave," with that, he threw a shovel at Harry's stomach and shut the door loudly.
Shivering, Harry picked up the shovel and slowly began lifting the snow off the ground.
~Why can't I hear music play~
He began shoveling, the icy wind numbing his hands. He looked inside the living room window and watched as Dudley and his Aunt hugged and were singing together. Uncle Vernon was laughing and singing as well.
Everything seemed like he should. The fire in the back round, the music, the presents, the love. Harry watched, too mesmerized by the scene to go back to work. They always showed such hate towards him, yet such love towards one another. And no matter how much he hated them sometimes, he envied them more for owning the one thing he wanted more than anything.
His eyes widened suddenly as his uncle shot his pudgy eyes towards him. They narrowed in anger. He watched as his uncle walked to the window and closed the curtains so Harry could no longer see.
Harry lowered his head, and the tears threatened the fall again. Sighing, he finally lifted his head up again and his eyes met with another pair across the street.
Harry jumped backwards as the man stared straight into his eyes, unblinking. He felt a squeak escape his lips and he quickly grabbed the shovel that laid on the ground and began to work at an abnormally quickened speed.
There was something uncannily familiar about those eyes. He shook his head and continued on with his work. His aunt and uncle warned him about talking to people.
~My world is changing~
Sirius Black watched the small boy closely as he shoveled with narrowed eyes.
He was angry at Dumbledore more than he had ever felt before. Harry was left to these muggles who, in his opinion, didn't deserve to know Harry.
Sirius shook his head angrily There was no use to think about those things right now. He was on the run, and Harry was right in front of him. He had to get the boy out of there.
Harry lifted his head, the man's gaze still on him. It unnerved him to no extent and he wondered if he should get his uncle. But he connected his gaze with the strangers and it felt oddly familiar, and content.
He smiled softly at the man, who in returned looked startled and smiled back. He began shoveling again, hoping that the sooner he finished, the sooner he would be taken to Mrs. Figg's house and then the day would be finally over.
~I'm rearranging~
Harry sighed at the laughter he heard from inside and felt the pair of eyes that had been staring him down were gone and the man was no place to be seen. He shivered unconciously.
He was alone again.
He began humming softly to himself. A song that he had heard in a dream once. His mother had been singing to him. He felt a small tear slide down his cheek. He missed his parents more and more with each day.
And each day he seemed to remember less and less.
He tenderly touched the bruise that was forming around his eye. It still hurt pretty badly.
He had never been excepted by his family. He suppose there had to be something wrong with him if his family wouldn't even give him a proper room. Uncle Vernon had said he lived in the cupboard because he was a lot lower then the rest of the family and didn't deserve the same treatment.
But that didn't matter. Harry knew that on Christmas he was suppose to be happy. So the little boy, still clutching the bitterly cold shovel and getting the snow out of the way, smiled quietly to himself.
Someday he would be loved.
~Does that mean Christmas changes too~
Sirius made his way across the street in his dog form, as quickly and quietly as possible. He crept up to Harry's house and watched the small boy work. He shut his eyes and then opened then again. He had to do this.
Transforming behind the bush, Sirius walked towards the boy, glancing at the closed curtains to the Dursley household to make sure that they weren't going to stop him. The raven haired boy was still shoveling, although his eyes were fixed on the ground so intensely that Sirius was sure the boy knew he was approaching.
~Where are you Christmas~
Harry's hands were numb against he bitter cold. The shovel he held in his hands was getting harder to hold as the snow drifted around him. He shoveled, mound after mound, his breath appearing in front of him, the steady sound of his breathing the only noise.
But as he continued to shovel his aunt and uncle's driveway, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he heard footsteps approaching in the snow. He listened to the rhythmic beating of the feat against the snow, his breathing becoming faster and the snow he was shoveling lessening.
Taking a deep breath, Harry formulated an apology for whoever it was that had wandered into the driveway, and raised his green eyes to meet the same blue ones that he had meet minutes earlier from across the street. Frowning, the small boy clutched the shovel closer to himself and self-consciously took a step backwards.
~Do you remember
The one you used to know~
Sirius stopped, afraid that he had startled the boy with his gaze. He swallowed, his mouth becoming increasingly dry since he had set eyes on the boy earlier that night. Running a hand through his matted hair, Sirius could feel his hands beginning to shake.
'This is Lily and James's son, my godson.' The man, perhaps sensing the boy's fear, and his own as well, knelt on one knee before the child, their eyes level and the same.
Harry took a tentative step forward, his death grip on the shovel falling as he dragged the shovel behind him carelessly. He cocked his head to the side, his black hair falling in heaps against his pale skin, his green eyes narrowing as though in thought, recalling a past memory or event.
~I'm not the same one
See what the time's done
Is that why you have let me go~
"Harry-" God, his voice sounded like a train-wreck. No wonder the boy flinched at the coarse sound. 'Try again.' Sirius swallowed, his throat relaxing slightly with the moisture.
"Harry, my- name is Sirius Black," 'Good, he thought to himself, at least I remembered my own name.' Harry's green eyes flickered for a moment, but Sirius got no other reaction out of the child.
"I'm, well kid, I'm your godfather."
Sirius could hear his breathing increasing, the warmth of his breath contradicting the cold air that surrounded him. He watched the boy, who's mouth had opened and closed several times and wondered briefly if he'd expected the boy to actually remember who he was.
~Christmas is here~
Harry took a step forward, watching the man quietly as he shifted from the weight on his knee. He glanced quickly at his relatives living room window before reaching out his hand and brushing against his godfather's skin. He felt the man jump slightly at human contact, and Harry let a small grin escape his lips. Had the man been thinking along the same lines as he?
"You aren't a ghost?" Harry's amusement stretched when the man's mouth opened and closed rapidly before plastering a similar smile on his own face.
"No." A nod. Sirius felt his breath being released, the tension of being accepted leaving his body.
"And-you've come-" the boy faltered and touched Sirius's face once more. "You've come to rescue me?"
~Everywhere, oh
Christmas is here~
Sirius couldn't help but wonder if those were the boy's words or James's coming out of the child's mouth. His jaw tightened, emotions from the past threatening to consume him. He shook his head lightly to clear his mind and looked back into his godson's eyes.
"If you'll come with me."
Harry's lips were becoming parched in the dry snow that covered him. His dark hair was damp from the snow that fell from the sky and his tee-shirt caused him to shiver involuntarily. This man- who claimed to be his godfather- was staring at him, if possible, more intently then before. Harry shifted his weight from side to side, his head was pounding making his ability to think faltering.
"But- the Dursleys-" Sirius shook his head and grabbed the boys hand. The man's hand was weathered and chapped. The older man sighed quietly.
"They hurt you, don't they Harry?" The boy shrugged uncomfortably and Sirius put his hand on his shoulder gently. Harry flinched lightly, expecting a blow to fall that wouldn't come. Harry saw a series of emotions pass through the man's face.
"I was your father's best friend, Harry. You're my godson. I'll take care of you," Sirius swallowed again. The boy smiled shortly after with a satisfied look on his face.
"Let's go."
~If you care, oh~
They started down the driveway, their feet imprinting the Dursley's driveway. Harry had dropped the shovel shortly before, and it now laid innocently in the snow, only half of the small driveway shoveled.
Harry grabbed the older man's hand as they continued to walk, and he never looked back, even as the rounded the corner and were out of sight of his Aunt and Uncle's house.
~If there is love in your heart and your mind
You will feel like Christmas all the time~
They were a strange couple walking, one, a seemingly skeleton, and the other a boy who looked no older then 5. Content, they walked for what seemed like miles to the small boy before they entered a small inn when the night began to wind down.
They got a room, and as soon as they entered, Sirius let out a breath of relief and took out a stick from his pocket, receiving a curious look from his companion Sirius felt the small eyes on him and he grinned, before muttering an incantation from his pale lips and what seemed like a blur surrounded the room. Harry felt his skin prickle and his eyes widened with amazement.
"Magic, you see Harry, does exist," Harry blinked, still staring at the wand and the blur that had surrounded the room. Catching his questioning glance, Sirius added "It's for our protection." Before Harry could utter one question, his godfather reached in his pocket and pulled out a rock. One one cause the rock to change into a package and it was promptly presented to Harry. The boy gasped at the magic and took the gift with shaking hands.
"Merry Christmas, Harry."
~I feel you Christmas
I know I've found you~
The wrapping paper was only brown paper, but to Harry it felt like the best kind in the world. He ripped it carefully, desperately trying to contain his excitement at receiving a gift formally from someone who cared for him.
A tattered picture was framed delicately Harry ran his small hand over the glass of the frame as the people waved at him in the photo. Harry looked up at his godfather who was still staring at him, his face unreadable. The man nodded at him again; more magic.
"Those are your parents, Harry." The boy unlocked his gaze with his godfather and stared at the two figures his godfather was pointing at. They were smiling, tears in their eyes as they waved up at their son. Sirius then pointed to another figure, naming him Remus Lupin. And another was Sirius himself; younger and fuller. Harry wondered silently why the edge of the picture was torn off, but refrained as to asking, his eyes gently wavering over all the figures in the photo.
~You never fade away
The joy of Christmas~
"Thanks Padfoot." The man jerked his head to look at the boy who was smiling, holding the frame against his heart. Sirius ruffled the kids hair and pulled him into a one armed hug.
Harry felt a surge of emotions as he was hugged. In all his life, his relatives as kept him at a distance, refraining from touching him if at all possible. But this man, who he'd known for less than a day was now hugging him freely and without cringing.
Harry felt his eyes drooping as they sat there longer, weariness catching up with him. Distantly he was aware of his head laying against the man's chest and a hand brushing his hair away from his forehead.
~Stays here inside us
Fills each and every heart with love~
He was finally content. At ease with himself for fulfilling the promise he'd made to James years earlier, proclaiming he'd do all he could to help his best friends son. But he'd had no idea it would have so much at stake. That such a boy would need someone like him.
Absently, Sirius brushed the child's hair away from his forehead, before lifting his thin frame and lying him onto the hotel bed. Forehead wrinkled in the loss of human touch, the small boy turned over in his sleep, continuing the long awaited slumber that reached his body.
Sirius pulled the covers around the boy, and sighed into the night. He pulled himself onto the other bed, turning off the light, a slight frown on his lips as he pulled the covers to his chin and finally he allowed himself to be drawn into a deep sleep.
A faint silver from the corner of the room approached the man and the boy, gazing at the figures. The figure of a man and a woman filled the room. They looked upon both sleeping images and a whisper quietly filled the silent room.
"Merry Christmas Sirius, Harry."
~Where are you Christmas
Fills your heart with love~
************************************************************************
A/N: Ahem. Thank you for reading. And before exiting, please return any lost or found items to the button labeled 'review' in the bottom left corner. All donations are also to be placed there, as well as comments and, if possible, friends for my Bob.
*
*
*
!Oh, and any questions as to why Sirius has a wand: He stole it.
!Harry: Yes, some abuse, obviously. Acts a little older then nescarry, but due to what he had to live with, I thought it possible. And it's AU.
!Oh, and if anyone has trouble wondering why Harry trusts Sirius so much, call it his instinct, his 6th sense if you will. He has met Sirius before, yes, he was very young. But it was mentioned in the first book he still had dreams about a "flying motorcycle." I took the idea that since Harry is still young enough to remember some things from his parents (glimpses) but old enough to be forgetting it. If you say he was too young to have a memory from that time, think again. I still remember things that happened when I was little over a year old. And I'm 16....So....Well, I do ramble, don't I?
@Ah, well, this was fun to write. Perhaps some time in the future I will continue an idea like this. Probably not. Oh, and readers of "Breaking Point"- hang in there. I know it's been terrible waiting for chapters like this, and I'll be honest, I'm struggling. Expect only a few more chapters and then I plan on washing my hands free of that story forever. About the Comedy relief story: Maurader's and the Sorcerer's Stone: New insight and the idea that I couldn't care less if they take down that story has caused me to continue and I plan to finish it...er, eventually.
THANKS! And please, I'll love you forever if you REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the rock that resides in my house. I have named him Bob. Say hello to the readers, Bob.
Bob: .....
Well, isn't he a social rock? *pets the rock*
Oh, and by the way I think I should mention this before you read the story.... This is AU (alternate universe) fic. Obviously by the way this story goes, it should be apparent.
************************************************************************
~Where are you Christmas ~
It was his 7th Christmas, the 6th one at his Aunt and Uncle's house and seven year old Harry stared aimlessly in front of him, a blank expression covering his small face. And even though he seemed as though he couldn't notice the things going on in the room next to his cupboard, he knew what was happening very well.
He could hear the distant Christmas music playing, reminding the family of the special day filled with love. He could hear his Aunt Petunia swooning over his abnormally large cousin. He could hear Uncle Vernon laugh loudly.
"It isn't like I actually wanted them to love me anyway," he tried reassuring himself. But it was a complete lie in every way There was nothing more he wanted then love and reassurance.
Every other day of the year he was able to keep the tears away. But on a day like today, it was the hardest thing in the world to be strong when he was yearning for so much more in his heart.
~Why can't I find you~
"Harry!" Harry whipped his head towards the door as though the one who had been calling him had suddenly appeared. He steadily got to his feet, cautiously opened hid cupboard door, and began to make his way slowly towards the living room. He had never been talked to before on Christmas. They always ignored him as though he had never existed.
He turned the corner and looked into the living room, full of wrapping paper and toys. The fire was going and he could hear the music more clearly now. He walked in to see his uncle holding out a present for him.
"Well, here you are," he said. Harry took the present, dumbfounded. It was a huge present. It had a small green bow on top and covered in red wrapping paper. He had never received a present with this.
Shaking, he began unwrapping it. As soon as he did, he found a box. He opened it quizally to find another wrapped box. Then another. And another. And another. And another. until finally-
"Dirt," he said quietly. Inside the smallest box possible was filled with dirt. Harry looked at it in complete confusion, not daring to let his mind comprehend what had happened.
~Why have you gone away ~
While Harry was looking at the dirt again, Dudley smacked his face into the box. Harry's glasses broke with a sickening crunch and dirt smeared all over his pale face. He felt hot tears spring to his eyes.
And then, as though covering his face in dirt was good enough, his Uncle rounded on him. "This 'gift' is what you are to us. Dirt."
He could distantly hear his family roaring with laughter. It was bitter, and cold. Not the kind of laughter most hear on Christmas day. His shoulders slumped and he ran to his cupboard in a desperate attempt to escape it all.
With the small box of dirt enclosed tightly in his small hand, he threw himself into the small space, his heart painfully constricting against his chest. He threw the box against the wall angrily.
'Just don't cry, Harry. Don't cry. Don't let them see you hurt. Don't let them know you're in pain.' But no matter how hard the small boy's mind tried to convince him that crying was hopeless and made the pain increase, it couldn't stop the heart wrenching sobs that escaped from him. His heart torn leaving him helpless and almost completely hopeless.
Harry quieted himself enough to sit back on the mattress still sniffling back the tears. He had tried everything for 6 years to get them to like him. But everything ended up with more hatred being thrown in his face,
He lowered his head and let the tears fall again. It felt terrible knowing that love wasn't there. But he was convinced, somewhere, somehow, someone must care about him. And if he could hang on to that hope, he knew they could never fully break him.
~Where is the laughter ~
Harry closed his eyes for a minute, blocking out all the surrounding sounds. He had dreamed about his parents before. He almost knew what they looked like. He imagined them sitting by the fire, Harry on his mother's lap, playing with her fire-red hair.
None of them spoke. They seemed content to just sit and gaze into the seemingly unending depths of the fire that burned under their gaze.
His father was standing behind them, an arm around his mother, smiling at Harry as he laid his head against his mom's chest and closed his eyes.
He felt someone stroke his head, and he lay, content, in her arms. The cackling of the fire in the backround.
"We love you, forever, Harry," Harry felt tears spring to his eyes. Had they ever loved him? Or hated him as his aunt and uncle said they did?
Harry opened his eyes to look into his mother's face for one last time.
"Harry-" He shut his eyes again
"Harry!"
"BOY GET OUT HERE!"
~You used to bring me~
Harry snapped open his eyes and brushed away the stray tears on his face. Not bothering to yell through the door to ask what his uncle wanted, he opened the door and walked forward, standing in front of his uncle, head bowed.
"Boy! Are you trying to ruin this for us?" Harry quickly shook his head no, not daring to speak.
"I called you three times!" Harry fidgeted nervously. He had been dreaming about his parents and must not have been paying attention.
"Sorry," He said quickly. Before he knew what was happening, he fell to the floor, clutching his stinging eye. He choked back the tears.
"I am a sir to you, boy," he said gruffly. Harry saw his aunt come up behind his uncle and rest a hand on his beefy shoulder.
"Don't let him," she said the last part nastily with a sneer. "upset you today, dear."
Uncle Vernon grunted and lifted Harry up by the scruff of his neck. He threw him out into the snow, not bothering to give him a jacket.
"We have a party we have to in a few hours. You will be staying out here and shoveling until we leave," with that, he threw a shovel at Harry's stomach and shut the door loudly.
Shivering, Harry picked up the shovel and slowly began lifting the snow off the ground.
~Why can't I hear music play~
He began shoveling, the icy wind numbing his hands. He looked inside the living room window and watched as Dudley and his Aunt hugged and were singing together. Uncle Vernon was laughing and singing as well.
Everything seemed like he should. The fire in the back round, the music, the presents, the love. Harry watched, too mesmerized by the scene to go back to work. They always showed such hate towards him, yet such love towards one another. And no matter how much he hated them sometimes, he envied them more for owning the one thing he wanted more than anything.
His eyes widened suddenly as his uncle shot his pudgy eyes towards him. They narrowed in anger. He watched as his uncle walked to the window and closed the curtains so Harry could no longer see.
Harry lowered his head, and the tears threatened the fall again. Sighing, he finally lifted his head up again and his eyes met with another pair across the street.
Harry jumped backwards as the man stared straight into his eyes, unblinking. He felt a squeak escape his lips and he quickly grabbed the shovel that laid on the ground and began to work at an abnormally quickened speed.
There was something uncannily familiar about those eyes. He shook his head and continued on with his work. His aunt and uncle warned him about talking to people.
~My world is changing~
Sirius Black watched the small boy closely as he shoveled with narrowed eyes.
He was angry at Dumbledore more than he had ever felt before. Harry was left to these muggles who, in his opinion, didn't deserve to know Harry.
Sirius shook his head angrily There was no use to think about those things right now. He was on the run, and Harry was right in front of him. He had to get the boy out of there.
Harry lifted his head, the man's gaze still on him. It unnerved him to no extent and he wondered if he should get his uncle. But he connected his gaze with the strangers and it felt oddly familiar, and content.
He smiled softly at the man, who in returned looked startled and smiled back. He began shoveling again, hoping that the sooner he finished, the sooner he would be taken to Mrs. Figg's house and then the day would be finally over.
~I'm rearranging~
Harry sighed at the laughter he heard from inside and felt the pair of eyes that had been staring him down were gone and the man was no place to be seen. He shivered unconciously.
He was alone again.
He began humming softly to himself. A song that he had heard in a dream once. His mother had been singing to him. He felt a small tear slide down his cheek. He missed his parents more and more with each day.
And each day he seemed to remember less and less.
He tenderly touched the bruise that was forming around his eye. It still hurt pretty badly.
He had never been excepted by his family. He suppose there had to be something wrong with him if his family wouldn't even give him a proper room. Uncle Vernon had said he lived in the cupboard because he was a lot lower then the rest of the family and didn't deserve the same treatment.
But that didn't matter. Harry knew that on Christmas he was suppose to be happy. So the little boy, still clutching the bitterly cold shovel and getting the snow out of the way, smiled quietly to himself.
Someday he would be loved.
~Does that mean Christmas changes too~
Sirius made his way across the street in his dog form, as quickly and quietly as possible. He crept up to Harry's house and watched the small boy work. He shut his eyes and then opened then again. He had to do this.
Transforming behind the bush, Sirius walked towards the boy, glancing at the closed curtains to the Dursley household to make sure that they weren't going to stop him. The raven haired boy was still shoveling, although his eyes were fixed on the ground so intensely that Sirius was sure the boy knew he was approaching.
~Where are you Christmas~
Harry's hands were numb against he bitter cold. The shovel he held in his hands was getting harder to hold as the snow drifted around him. He shoveled, mound after mound, his breath appearing in front of him, the steady sound of his breathing the only noise.
But as he continued to shovel his aunt and uncle's driveway, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he heard footsteps approaching in the snow. He listened to the rhythmic beating of the feat against the snow, his breathing becoming faster and the snow he was shoveling lessening.
Taking a deep breath, Harry formulated an apology for whoever it was that had wandered into the driveway, and raised his green eyes to meet the same blue ones that he had meet minutes earlier from across the street. Frowning, the small boy clutched the shovel closer to himself and self-consciously took a step backwards.
~Do you remember
The one you used to know~
Sirius stopped, afraid that he had startled the boy with his gaze. He swallowed, his mouth becoming increasingly dry since he had set eyes on the boy earlier that night. Running a hand through his matted hair, Sirius could feel his hands beginning to shake.
'This is Lily and James's son, my godson.' The man, perhaps sensing the boy's fear, and his own as well, knelt on one knee before the child, their eyes level and the same.
Harry took a tentative step forward, his death grip on the shovel falling as he dragged the shovel behind him carelessly. He cocked his head to the side, his black hair falling in heaps against his pale skin, his green eyes narrowing as though in thought, recalling a past memory or event.
~I'm not the same one
See what the time's done
Is that why you have let me go~
"Harry-" God, his voice sounded like a train-wreck. No wonder the boy flinched at the coarse sound. 'Try again.' Sirius swallowed, his throat relaxing slightly with the moisture.
"Harry, my- name is Sirius Black," 'Good, he thought to himself, at least I remembered my own name.' Harry's green eyes flickered for a moment, but Sirius got no other reaction out of the child.
"I'm, well kid, I'm your godfather."
Sirius could hear his breathing increasing, the warmth of his breath contradicting the cold air that surrounded him. He watched the boy, who's mouth had opened and closed several times and wondered briefly if he'd expected the boy to actually remember who he was.
~Christmas is here~
Harry took a step forward, watching the man quietly as he shifted from the weight on his knee. He glanced quickly at his relatives living room window before reaching out his hand and brushing against his godfather's skin. He felt the man jump slightly at human contact, and Harry let a small grin escape his lips. Had the man been thinking along the same lines as he?
"You aren't a ghost?" Harry's amusement stretched when the man's mouth opened and closed rapidly before plastering a similar smile on his own face.
"No." A nod. Sirius felt his breath being released, the tension of being accepted leaving his body.
"And-you've come-" the boy faltered and touched Sirius's face once more. "You've come to rescue me?"
~Everywhere, oh
Christmas is here~
Sirius couldn't help but wonder if those were the boy's words or James's coming out of the child's mouth. His jaw tightened, emotions from the past threatening to consume him. He shook his head lightly to clear his mind and looked back into his godson's eyes.
"If you'll come with me."
Harry's lips were becoming parched in the dry snow that covered him. His dark hair was damp from the snow that fell from the sky and his tee-shirt caused him to shiver involuntarily. This man- who claimed to be his godfather- was staring at him, if possible, more intently then before. Harry shifted his weight from side to side, his head was pounding making his ability to think faltering.
"But- the Dursleys-" Sirius shook his head and grabbed the boys hand. The man's hand was weathered and chapped. The older man sighed quietly.
"They hurt you, don't they Harry?" The boy shrugged uncomfortably and Sirius put his hand on his shoulder gently. Harry flinched lightly, expecting a blow to fall that wouldn't come. Harry saw a series of emotions pass through the man's face.
"I was your father's best friend, Harry. You're my godson. I'll take care of you," Sirius swallowed again. The boy smiled shortly after with a satisfied look on his face.
"Let's go."
~If you care, oh~
They started down the driveway, their feet imprinting the Dursley's driveway. Harry had dropped the shovel shortly before, and it now laid innocently in the snow, only half of the small driveway shoveled.
Harry grabbed the older man's hand as they continued to walk, and he never looked back, even as the rounded the corner and were out of sight of his Aunt and Uncle's house.
~If there is love in your heart and your mind
You will feel like Christmas all the time~
They were a strange couple walking, one, a seemingly skeleton, and the other a boy who looked no older then 5. Content, they walked for what seemed like miles to the small boy before they entered a small inn when the night began to wind down.
They got a room, and as soon as they entered, Sirius let out a breath of relief and took out a stick from his pocket, receiving a curious look from his companion Sirius felt the small eyes on him and he grinned, before muttering an incantation from his pale lips and what seemed like a blur surrounded the room. Harry felt his skin prickle and his eyes widened with amazement.
"Magic, you see Harry, does exist," Harry blinked, still staring at the wand and the blur that had surrounded the room. Catching his questioning glance, Sirius added "It's for our protection." Before Harry could utter one question, his godfather reached in his pocket and pulled out a rock. One one cause the rock to change into a package and it was promptly presented to Harry. The boy gasped at the magic and took the gift with shaking hands.
"Merry Christmas, Harry."
~I feel you Christmas
I know I've found you~
The wrapping paper was only brown paper, but to Harry it felt like the best kind in the world. He ripped it carefully, desperately trying to contain his excitement at receiving a gift formally from someone who cared for him.
A tattered picture was framed delicately Harry ran his small hand over the glass of the frame as the people waved at him in the photo. Harry looked up at his godfather who was still staring at him, his face unreadable. The man nodded at him again; more magic.
"Those are your parents, Harry." The boy unlocked his gaze with his godfather and stared at the two figures his godfather was pointing at. They were smiling, tears in their eyes as they waved up at their son. Sirius then pointed to another figure, naming him Remus Lupin. And another was Sirius himself; younger and fuller. Harry wondered silently why the edge of the picture was torn off, but refrained as to asking, his eyes gently wavering over all the figures in the photo.
~You never fade away
The joy of Christmas~
"Thanks Padfoot." The man jerked his head to look at the boy who was smiling, holding the frame against his heart. Sirius ruffled the kids hair and pulled him into a one armed hug.
Harry felt a surge of emotions as he was hugged. In all his life, his relatives as kept him at a distance, refraining from touching him if at all possible. But this man, who he'd known for less than a day was now hugging him freely and without cringing.
Harry felt his eyes drooping as they sat there longer, weariness catching up with him. Distantly he was aware of his head laying against the man's chest and a hand brushing his hair away from his forehead.
~Stays here inside us
Fills each and every heart with love~
He was finally content. At ease with himself for fulfilling the promise he'd made to James years earlier, proclaiming he'd do all he could to help his best friends son. But he'd had no idea it would have so much at stake. That such a boy would need someone like him.
Absently, Sirius brushed the child's hair away from his forehead, before lifting his thin frame and lying him onto the hotel bed. Forehead wrinkled in the loss of human touch, the small boy turned over in his sleep, continuing the long awaited slumber that reached his body.
Sirius pulled the covers around the boy, and sighed into the night. He pulled himself onto the other bed, turning off the light, a slight frown on his lips as he pulled the covers to his chin and finally he allowed himself to be drawn into a deep sleep.
A faint silver from the corner of the room approached the man and the boy, gazing at the figures. The figure of a man and a woman filled the room. They looked upon both sleeping images and a whisper quietly filled the silent room.
"Merry Christmas Sirius, Harry."
~Where are you Christmas
Fills your heart with love~
************************************************************************
A/N: Ahem. Thank you for reading. And before exiting, please return any lost or found items to the button labeled 'review' in the bottom left corner. All donations are also to be placed there, as well as comments and, if possible, friends for my Bob.
*
*
*
!Oh, and any questions as to why Sirius has a wand: He stole it.
!Harry: Yes, some abuse, obviously. Acts a little older then nescarry, but due to what he had to live with, I thought it possible. And it's AU.
!Oh, and if anyone has trouble wondering why Harry trusts Sirius so much, call it his instinct, his 6th sense if you will. He has met Sirius before, yes, he was very young. But it was mentioned in the first book he still had dreams about a "flying motorcycle." I took the idea that since Harry is still young enough to remember some things from his parents (glimpses) but old enough to be forgetting it. If you say he was too young to have a memory from that time, think again. I still remember things that happened when I was little over a year old. And I'm 16....So....Well, I do ramble, don't I?
@Ah, well, this was fun to write. Perhaps some time in the future I will continue an idea like this. Probably not. Oh, and readers of "Breaking Point"- hang in there. I know it's been terrible waiting for chapters like this, and I'll be honest, I'm struggling. Expect only a few more chapters and then I plan on washing my hands free of that story forever. About the Comedy relief story: Maurader's and the Sorcerer's Stone: New insight and the idea that I couldn't care less if they take down that story has caused me to continue and I plan to finish it...er, eventually.
THANKS! And please, I'll love you forever if you REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!