Disclaimer: Honestly, I'm flattered that anyone could ever think for even the tiniest second I owned Harry Potter.

Notes: I'm not entirely pleased with this, but I think it turned out okay. If you see that I've made any blatant spelling or grammatical errors, or if I've messed up any canon information, please point it out to me and I'll try to fix it. Enjoy!

...

Of Things Long Gone

...

"Bloody Hell!"

The words echoed down the long, empty hall of Number 12 Grimmauld Place as a man with a curtain of long black hair picked himself up from the dusty floor. Beside him lay a large overturned umbrella stand which was shaped like a troll's leg.

Number 12 hadn't been inhabited by anyone other than a bitter, old house elf - who seemed to have long since given up on cleaning the place - for years, and its filthy state was certainly proof of it. A thick layer of dust covered all the floors and every single piece of furniture in the house. Cobwebs the size of chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Every door creaked when opened, and bugs and vermin of all kinds found their homes in the walls. Even without the various Dark artifacts scattered throughout the house and the disgruntled portraits, Number 12 Grimmauld Place held a very sinister air.

Sirius Black brushed a bit of dust off of his long wizard's robes before continuing to make his way down the dark hallway. He certainly never thought he would be here again. He thought he had seen the place for the last time when he ran away from home nineteen years previously. He wished he had seen it for the last time all those years ago. This house brought back so many horrible memories from his childhood and reopened wounds that had just begun to heal from his twelve year imprisonment in Azkaban.

He could still hear his mother screaming like a banshee after he and his little brother had tracked mud in the house or had caused some sort of mischief in their youth. Of course, the fact that his mother's portrait hung in the front hall and still screamed like a banshee upon every available opportunity did little to help the matter. He remembered being frightened by storms when he was a little boy, but even more frightened to seek comfort in his parents' arms because he knew he would find no love there, only harsh words and scoldings.

Still, he had barely even given it a thought when he had offered his old family home as headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. He had just wanted to make himself useful. He had wanted to make sure that at least Snape's sneering comments weren't completely true. Now, like so many other things in his life, he regretted it.

He couldn't stand to be in this wretched house for another minute, much less the next several months. But this was what he had to do. It was all he could do with his status as an escaped convict. At least come tomorrow he wouldn't be the only person in the house anymore.

He made his way down into the basement kitchen and busied himself making tea before finally taking a seat at the end of the long wooden table in the middle of the room.

Tomorrow the Weasley's would be coming. Sirius was quite sure there would hardly ever be a dull moment with the four youngest Weasley children and their friend, Hermione Granger, running around, but somehow this didn't seem to do much to cheer him. Even the fact that Remus Lupin, one of his childhood best friends and with whom he had reconnected just over a year ago, was coming tomorrow as well didn't seem to make him feel any better. There was only one person in particular Sirius wanted to see.

He wanted to see Harry Potter, his godson. Sirius hadn't seen Harry since the night of the Third Task back in June, and though he'd written Harry several letters, he wanted to actually see for himself how his godson was faring. He knew Harry had been through a lot that night. His godson had seen another boy murdered and had witnessed the return of one of the greatest Dark Wizards in history. Harry wasn't going to get over something like that so easily.

Thinking of Harry reminded Sirius of the significance of this day. Today was the thirty-first of July. Today was Harry's fifteenth birthday.

Being stuck in Azkaban for twelve years, Sirius had only been able to celebrate very few of Harry's birthdays. He had given Harry a new broom for Christmas a couple of years ago and had meant that rather expensive gift to count for several of the birthdays and Christmas's he had missed, but he knew that it still couldn't cover up the fact that he hadn't been there for Harry. He hadn't done his duty as godfather. He'd managed to mess up the one thing his best friend had asked of him.

Sirius hadn't even been there for Harry's first birthday. He had been away on an Order mission. He had wanted so very badly to just skip out on the mission and go play with his little godson on his first birthday, but had known that he needed to do his part in the war against Voldemort to help make the world a better place for his godson to grow up in. Although, if he had known beforehand how futile that mission would have been, he would have had no qualms in skipping out on it.

As it turned out the only birthday of Harry's that Sirius had actually been present at so far was Harry's actual birth day...

...

Fifteen years previously...

...

Sirius was nervous.

He was far more nervous than he had ever been in his entire life as he walked slowly through the white waiting room towards the front desk of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He wasn't feeling the usual kind of nervousness he got when entering hospitals. He wasn't coming to visit a sick friend or to check on the fate of one of his wounded comrades (injured, most likely, during an Order mission). No, this was a very different kind of nervousness. In contrast to nearly all of his other visits to the hospital, this trip would normally be considered as quite a joyous one.

Sirius, however, was nervous and, truth be told, slightly scared. Sirius had never been around babies or small children very much. He didn't know quite how to act. Or what to do.

James had been thrilled when Lily had found out she was pregnant, and Sirius had been thrilled for them, but he wasn't quite so thrilled himself. Between Order work and Lily, James barely had enough time to hang out with Sirius as it was. What would it be like when James had a baby to look after as well? Of course, Sirius had realized that those were very selfish thoughts, but when had he ever said he wasn't selfish?

James was Sirius' brother in all ways that mattered. James was possibly the only person who truly understood him, who truly trusted him. And because of that trust James had, and somehow managed to hoodwink Lily to go along with him, made Sirius the godfather of his unborn child. (Sirius still wasn't sure how James had gotten her to agree with that decision. He had a theory that James had Confunded her.)

With that announcement, Sirius had felt a wave of responsibility crash upon him. He wasn't stupid. He knew the dangers of the war and how unlikely such a talented duo as Lily and James would make it out unscathed. He understood their fears and why they needed to know that someone would take care of their child if anything were to happen to them. Sirius would never turn down such a request from two of his best friends, but he still didn't feel ready to take on that kind of responsibility just yet.

Ever since the end of their seventh year, when James had proposed to Lily, James had been the responsible one. James had been the one to get married and the one who wanted to raise a family. Sirius had just wanted to enjoy his youth and do the best he could to end this bloody war. He wasn't ready to take on all the responsibility that being a good godfather entailed - not by a long shot.

But he would do it. He would be scared witless, but he would do it. He would do it because James asked him. He would do it because he knew that after everything that James had done for him, he would never let himself fail to do the one thing he could do for James.

So now here he was. He was facing his fear of responsibility.

Sirius quickened his pace a bit as he approached the front desk, noting the long queue and hoping it wouldn't take long to reach the front. He stared absently around the waiting room as he stood in the queue. It was nothing special. The walls were white, the chairs were uncomfortable, there were a few outdated Witch Weekly's on the end tables, and that distinct hospital smell lingered in the air.

As the queue progressed and Sirius took a few steps closer to the front desk, he started looking around at all the people in the waiting room. One small witch on the far left side of the room was repeatedly performing some sort of extremely complicated tap dance. Sirius noticed she was wearing a pair of rather hideously sparkling red shoes and figured the shoes must be under some kind of curse. He turned his gaze a bit to the right and saw a man who had somehow managed to replace his left arm with a pair of giant garden shears. Sirius took a moment to marvel at the fact that someone would do something so stupid.

He turned around again just in time to catch the woman at the front desk say, "Creature-Induced Injuries, first floor." The man in front of Sirius, who was sporting a nasty looking burn on his left leg, hobbled over to the lifts, leaving Sirius free to finally approach the front desk.

"Can I help you, Sir?" the woman at the desk asked in a falsely sweet voice which sounded as though she'd dealt with enough stupidity to

last her a lifetime.

"Er...yes," Sirius said a bit nervously. "I'm looking for Lily Potter's room?" He said it as though it were more of a question than a statement.

The woman flipped rapidly through the pages of a large book on the desk, then she looked up and actually smiled at him this time. "Yes, Mrs. Potter is up on our maternity ward. I believe she has just gotten through labor, but she and her husband will probably want a little time to themselves with their newborn. I'll let them know you're here, though, Mr...?"

"Black," he said. "Sirius Black."

"Right, Mr. Black. I'll let them know you're here, but you'll have to wait a little while to see them."

"Of course. Thanks."

Sirius moved out of the queue and sank into the nearest uncomfortable wooden chair. The woman hadn't actually said whether Lily and the baby were okay. She hadn't said anything that would make him think otherwise either, but then again, she'd been very vague overall. Sirius' nerves couldn't take it. He'd rather fight off a dozen Death Eaters than this. This agonizing wait. Sirius was an impatient man. He didn't like to wait for anything.

He sat in that chair for nearly an hour before he was approached by one of the healers dressed in lime green robes.

"You're allowed to go see your friends now, Mr. Black," the healer said. "Mrs. Potter's room is in the maternity ward on the second floor, room 216."

"Thanks," Sirius said as he made to stand up.

The healer nodded in response and turned to leave, but before the healer could walk away, Sirius thought to ask one of the questions that had been chewing on his mind for the past hour.

"Um... Do you happen to know if they're okay? Lily and the baby, I mean?"

The healer turned back around and smiled at him. "Yes, Mr. Black. Both the baby and the mother are doing perfectly well and last I checked, Mr. Potter was telling anyone who would listen how wonderful a Quidditch player his child is going to be."

Sirius chuckled at that as he walked towards the lifts. Just like James to be thinking of Quidditch at a time like this. Sirius hoped for the kid's sake - and well, everyone's sake really - that he or she would love Quidditch just as much as James did.

Sirius was still nervous as he entered the maternity ward. He was still feeling selfish about having even less time with James as he walked towards room 316. He still wasn't so sure about all the responsibility that had been placed on his shoulders with the birth of this child as he reached a hand towards the door.

But as he pushed open the door, he already knew for certain that he would love the kid. Though selfish and immature as he may be, how could he not?

In the seconds before the door fully opened, all of his doubts and fears were washed away because he knew that his real family was waiting for him in that room. To hell with blood. He didn't need that when he had people like James and Lily, and now their child, in his life. He loved them, all three of them, and that was all the proof he needed for them to be family.

With this new epiphany in mind, Sirius took the first few steps into the room and closed the door behind him.

The first thing he saw upon entering the room was Lily lying in the hospital bed and holding a small bundle of blankets. The next thing he saw was his best friend grinning like a maniac and looking at him from beside the bed.

When Lily saw him, she gave him a warm smile and then turned back to look lovingly at her little bundle. She looked completely worn out. She was sweaty and her hair was frazzled, but Sirius didn't think he'd ever seen her happier. Before Sirius could observe much else, however, James walked over to him and pulled him into a hug, that manic grin stuck on his face all the while.

"Sirius," James said softly as they pulled away from the hug, "I want you to meet your godson."

Godson.

So he had a godson. James and Lily had a little boy. Sirius felt slightly relieved by this revelation. Boys were easier. Well, they were to him anyway.

He walked over closer to Lily. He wanted to see his new little godson. The first thing he noticed as he peered over the bed railing and inside the little bundle was the shock of jet black hair covering the tiny infant's head. Sirius couldn't contain his grin. The poor kid had inherited James' horrible hair.

"Hello, Sirius," Lily said in a soft voice so as not to wake the sleeping baby in her arms.

"Hello yourself," he replied not taking his eyes off of his godson. "Looks like your son has gotten his father's bad hair genes."

"Bad hair genes?! What -" James spluttered but was cut off by Lily's mock exasperated sigh.

"I know. Poor thing," she said as she attempted to smooth the hair on the top of her baby's tiny head.

"I'll have you know that many woman find my hair highly attractive," James said, crossing his arms in a pathetic attempt to sound offended, but it was ruined completely when he gave a quick wink in Lily's direction. They all had a little laugh at that exchange. In Lily and James' younger years, James and his hair had been the bane of Lily's existence.

"So, have you two decided on a name for my little godson?" Sirius asked turning the conversation back to the baby.

"Harry," James announced proudly. "Harry James Potter."

"I knew you'd manage to sneak your name in there somewhere," Sirius said with a laugh.

Lily rolled her eyes at her husband.

"I had to do it," she said. "I had to make a compromise with him. Besides it was either that or Elvendork, and I'm not going to let any child of mine go around with a horrible name like that!"

Sirius smiled. It seemed he had been doing that a lot since he'd entered this room. Perhaps his friends' obvious good moods were infectious. Or maybe it was just the presence of little Harry that did it. Now that he was in the room and had finally seen the baby himself, he was having a hard time even thinking of all the doubts running through his head earlier.

Sirius came out of his thoughts in time to realize that James had been talking to him.

"What?" he asked James.

"Padfoot, I'm really think you ought to get your ears checked. I was standing right beside you and practically screaming in your ear," James said with a goofy looking grin. "I asked you if you wanted to hold Harry."

"Uh..." was all Sirius had the chance to get out before James had scooped baby Harry from Lily's arms and placed him in Sirius'.

"Just make sure you support his head, like this," James said as he showed Sirius how to properly hold Harry.

Sirius barely even chanced breathing as he held Harry in his arms. He looked so fragile. What if he dropped him? Sirius tried not to think of it and instead focused on supporting the baby's head.

His awkwardness holding little Harry must have been more obvious than he thought because both Lily and James were trying, and failing terribly, to conceal their laughter.

"Don't worry, Sirius," Lily managed to say through her giggles, "James acted just like you are when the healer first put Harry in his arms."

That made Sirius feel better, but not by much. He did relax a little, though. Sirius held Harry for quite some time, occasionally adding something to the conversation Lily and James were having and eventually becoming comfortable enough with Harry to gently rock him back and forth.

As much as Sirius was afraid of responsibility, he knew he'd do anything for this little boy. He'd protect him and love him and spoil him. He'd raise him as his own if it came to that. (And he really hoped it didn't.) He'd die for him even.

Sirius wasn't sure, but as he watched Harry open his tiny mouth to let out a yawn and grab the front of Sirius' shirt in his little fist, he knew this kid was going to be something special. He didn't quite know what made him think so. It was a gut feeling.

Sirius smile threatened to split his face in two as he looked down at his sleeping godson. He couldn't wait to watch this kid grow up.

...

Notes²: In case anyone is wondering, I totally made up the part about the maternity ward in St. Mungo's. It doesn't mention anything about where babies are born in the books, so I just made something up.