Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any other characters or settings created by JK Rowling.
Tiger Eyes
By: Andi330
Chapter 1 – The Survivors
Sirius Black landed his motorcycle outside what had once been the home of James and Lily Potter late on Halloween night. He was panicked, and sure he would find the entire family dead. The house was in ruins, yet, there was no sign of the Dark Mark. Was it possible, he wondered, that something happened to stop Voldemort before he could finish? Hope flared briefly within as he dismounted his bike and raced inside what had been left of the Potter family home.
"James," he shouted, "James are you here? Lily? Please, God someone answer!" Desperate to find his friends, praying to whatever god might exist as he ran through the house. He could hear the sound of a baby crying in the direction of the nursery and ran for it, not stopping to check the other rooms. If there was a child crying then Harry was alive! Maybe James and Lily were with him, trying to calm him after his fright. "James! Lily! Answer if you can hear me!"
Sirius turned the corner into the nursery and his heart broke. James was nowhere to be seen, and Lily lay dead in front of Harry's crib. Harry was standing behind her, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead, screaming at the top of his voice, tears streaming down his tiny face. Sirius snatched Harry up as his own tears began to fall, "Shh, there, there Tiger Eyes, Padfoot's here. No one's going to hurt you anymore." He blotted at Harry's head with his handkerchief. He'd never been good at healing spells, and he was too upset to concentrate. He'd get Dumbledore, or Madam Pomfrey to fix it. He would have to take the boy to Hogwarts; he'd be swarmed at St. Mungo's, the infant who survived an attack by Voldemort. Besides, if anyone would listen to his story, it would be Dumbledore, and he couldn't go looking for Peter until he was sure Harry was safe.
"Mama!" screamed Harry, squirming for all he was worth to get down. "Mama!"
"Hush, Harry. Oh, my little puppy, Mama can't wake up now. She's sleeping Tiger Eyes, let her sleep." Sirius didn't know what else to do, how could he possibly make a one-year-old understand that his Mummy was dead; that she couldn't hold him, or kiss his hurt better anymore.
"We have to go find Daddy, buddy. Will you help Padfoot find your Daddy for you?" Sirius turned to leave the nursery, but before he went, he grabbed a bag with some nappies, some bottles, and added Harry's blue blanket, a few changes of clothes, and his three favorite stuffed toys: a stag, a black dog, and a grey wolf. If he had to take Harry with him tonight, he would need some things to care for him with, until he could replace what had been lost, and Harry wouldn't sleep without those toys.
He took Harry out of the nursery, and went down the stairs, which were shaky now, after the destruction. He headed for the living room. He was hoping that James would be there, it was the one room on the first floor where the most destruction had occurred. Perhaps James had tried to hold Voldemort off so that Lily could escape with Harry.
Harry's playpen was set up in the kitchen, presumably where Lily and James had last had him in it, perhaps while they were fixing dinner that evening. He put Harry down in the pen, gave him his animals and said, "Padfoot is going to look for Daddy now little one. But I won't leave without you, be good for me while I look for Daddy, ok?" Harry's screams had turned to sniffles and he rubbed little baby fists against his eyes, those green eyes that looked so like his mother's had. Those eyes that had earned Harry his nickname, because James always called Lily his Tiger. He nodded and sniffed, and sat down in the pen, grabbing his stuffed "Moony" and holding on as if he would never let go.
"I promise that I won't leave until I come and get you. I just have to find Daddy before we can go." The hope that had flooded his heart when he realized the Dark Mark was missing had long since evaporated. Harry was alive it was true, but Lily was gone and he had seen no sign of James. There had been no sound indicating that James was alive somewhere. Surely if he had survived he would have gone to Harry when he heard him screaming. James would never have let Harry scream like that without doing something.
If James is dead too, I don't know what I'll do, thought Sirius. I may not have killed them, or betrayed them myself, but if James is dead, then I've as good as orphaned Harry. I might as well have killed them myself. I suggested the change. They never would have chosen Peter if it weren't for me.
Sirius was searching the rubble that had been the Potter's living room, searching for any sign of James. He turned over a piece of wall and discovered a foot, then heard a low groan. "God, James! James I'm coming, just hold on!"
He pulled out his wand and shouted, "Wingardium Leveosa," levitating the section of wall off of the man who was his best friend, his almost brother, brother in every way except blood. James was battered and bruised, and he appeared to have several broken bones, but he was undoubtedly alive. "James! James can you hear me? Wake up James!"
Now that he knew James was alive, he knew what he had to do. James was too badly injured, he wouldn't be able to bind all of his bones and he couldn't side-along apparate with both Harry and James, there was too much risk of a splinching. "Expecto Patronum," he cried, releasing his Patronus and sending it to Dumbledore with his message. Dumbledore would come as soon as he got it, Sirius was sure, and then everything would be sorted out. James seemed to be in no real danger of dying; he was just in a lot of pain. Pain he could live with, and Dumbledore would see to it that he was healed once he got here. Then the story could be explained, Remus would be sent for, and the hunt for the traitorous Pettigrew would begin.
