Summary: James and Lily find themselves caretakers to a one Sirius Black, who is wounded after a very personal battle. Mention of Remus/Sirius. About 8 months before James and Lily's murder.

Rating: R for language and reference


The Problems That Surface

Green Bird

The world was different with his glasses off. He had washed his face, brushed his teeth and readied for bed. The last of his nightly traditions was removing his eyewear. Now, at a quarter to midnight, James Potter saw the world as a place of fuzzy shapes and bleeding colors, of smudged lines and obscure furniture. His lovely wife was distinguishable in his hazy gaze due to her red hair and lavender nightgown. He smiled at her pleasantly and did not know if she smiled back.

However awful his eyes were, James possessed remarkable and quick ears, so when he heard the jerked groaning of an engine, he could recognize it right away. Six-cylinders with customized exhaust pipes for a ripping, painful roar, riding on spoke wheels that never touched the ground: Sirius's bike. The sound growled and then choked itself in the alley. A cat yowled. It was too late for a visit, which meant something was not right.

James Potter found his eyes again.

He worried about the noise he made coming in, for Harry was a fitful sleeper and it bothered him enough to visit at this hour alone. The last thing he wanted to do was wake the baby. This is why he avoided the doorbell and raised his hand to knock. James opened it before the fist rapped.

"Sirius…"

He winced when the light from the inside fell on him, bright after a trip through the dark. His hair shaded his face, crazed from the bike ride and longer since the wedding. "Sorry." His voice was a grunt, hushed and rough.

"Come on in."

James did not question the severity of the visit; Sirius was a gregarious and loud person… this was not an average greeting at an average time. The fact that he had taken his bike the distance between their domiciles, instead of apparating, spoke enough.

The locks and traps on the door clicked into place with a flick of Potter's wrist. He had heightened security all around their house ever since Lily's pregnancy. Much like the other Order members, the Potters lived in a barbed-wire lock-box.

The question as to why this visit was taking place was not spoken, because James didn't need to ask. They had an unspoken language, a way of picking up what went on without much thought. Black avoided eye contact and was quiet in the hallway, looking away from his friend. This was no matter of the Order; this was personal… and mortifying.

This was about Remus.

"Come on, Lily and I were just getting to bed. We were up late looking over some parchment about sealing spells." His hand tapped Sirius's robed shoulder, and the dog walked to the sitting room obediently. "I don't think you woke Harry."

The shaggy, tangled head nodded. James did not see his face, but felt his stiffness. Something was very wrong. His gut twisted at the thought of what it could be.

"I don't mean to be long…" Black's voice wobbled, struggled to sound nonchalant. "I just wanted to tell you some things."

"Right." James flicked on the light in their den, revealing its rather cozy colors and furniture. Lily made a living room feel lived in. Papers and pillows were everywhere. Pictures grinned, snored and waved from their frames, happy for the company. Black trod slowly over to the couch, found no where else to flee and turned in a lethargic, bowed way to his friend. James shut the door partially behind him and started at his friend's face.

A bruise stained the left cheek, attempting to match the scratch on the right. One eyelid lay lower than the other, as if it might think to blacken in the same way. Sirius tried to look valiant and uncaring. He failed in the most awful of ways; his smile showed bloodied teeth.

"I just wanted to tell you and Lily, I don't think I should be your secretkeeper." The swollen eyes blinked, ratted hair was pushed back from a beaten face. "I think a problem has developed."

"Remus did that to you?" James took a few steps forward, oblivious to the message Sirius seemed so intent on. "Remus hit you?"

"It's nothing, man," Black lifted a hand to wave him off; it shook too much and revealed a raw knuckle, "really it's nothing. Just got him riled up." Sirius took a deep breath. It didn't rattle; a triumph. "But… I think we've got a problem when it comes to him."

James's brows furrowed. Their worries about Remus and what side he played had been swimming around in the Order for a while. They gave him the least important jobs, sent him scouting amongst his own. That itself seemed to be the death of their hopes; putting a sheltered werewolf into a pack was bound to have some influence. The last time James had seen Remus, at Harry's birth, he noticed that his prudish, well-behaved friend was beginning to look a little wild.

"He's been gone a while right? Two weeks, you said when you talked to me on Tuesday. Did he come back just tonight?"

"Came and left again, but not before breaking me a bit. As soon as he was off, I tailed it out of there to tell you…" Padfoot shrugged, as if the weight settling on him was that easy to rid, "he's just not safe anymore."

The biker wobbled suddenly, woozy from his trip and ordeal. James felt dizzy too… Remus, Remus was no longer… He sat in a chair, placed his chin on his folded hands. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn't notice the way that Sirius gasped when he placed himself on the couch across from him.

Almost.

James Potter looked up from his musing to his best friend, eyes wide and horrified. Sirius averted his own to the window on his left and refused to acknowledge that look. If he did, he'd be saying it aloud… but James, James could tell…

"Fucking hell…"

"It's nothing."

"That's bullshit." James's hands were down, his voice was louder. "My god, is he that far gone to do that to you…"

He was cut off by a terse reply. "I'm telling you, it's nothing."

Potter was on his feet, struggling to think of what he could do, anything he could do. This was not a problem he was ever encountered before… and with his best mate… "Why didn't you floo over here? Why didn't you apparate? Riding that bike! Goddamnit! Telling me about that secretkeeper bullshit when you've been…"

"James!" Sirius's eyes snapped back, they were swathed in mortification and fear. "Keep your voice down." He jerked to his feet, as if to show he was fine, that what James imagined was some dark twisted nightmare that never happened…. could never happen. "It's nothing!"

"Nothing!" The voice rose to a shout that permeated the walls. Somewhere upstairs, Harry wailed in surprise. "Sirius, our friend, your lover…"

"I am perfectly aware of what he did!" the dog snapped, showing teeth in a mannerism entirely his own. Fingers fumbled for purchase of some object in his pocket, found a bent cigarette and settled on that. He walked over to the window, James's face pinched as he finally noticed the limp. Sirius lit the coffin nail with his wand, cracked the window, and sucked on the white stick as if it was a cure for life's maladies.

The smoke hissed, curled, calmed the bruised man enough to bring his voice level. "I should have seen it coming and left four months ago instead of waiting around, begging for him to return to normal."

"How many more injuries do you have?" James had is arms crossed, fingertips digging into his biceps.

"A few… I'll deal with them on my own. Thought it was better to get here first…"

Safe haven. A home when 'home' lay in ruin.

"Why didn't you fight him off?"

Sirius stilled, his eyes stared at the pane in the window as if it was telling him the answer. He struggled with it in a quiet way. "Could you raise your wand to Lily?"

James's heart skipped a beat, and then hurt because of it. "God Sirius, I never thought that he'd…"

"Neither did I, but this is war and people change." The shaggy-haired man leaned down to blow his smoke out through the crack in the window. His next sentence seemed stronger. "Don't tell Lily about…"

"About what?"

She was a stealthy witch when she wanted to be, which was alarming, considering she held a recently pacified baby in her arms. Lily's eyes were too smart for him; he knew she heard a great deal more than what she lead on.

"Morning," Sirius greeted, grinding his nearly fresh cigarette and flicking it out the window.

"What did you do that for?" James blinked, treating the cigarette as though it were medication instead of indulgence.

"I don't smoke around any godchild of mine." Black stepped forward, eyes on Harry and hands out almost in an expectant way. Lily handed him over without hesitation. Harry burbled, but did not protest.

With her hands suddenly free, Lily lifted them and startled Black with a gentle touch on his blue cheek. They caught eyes a moment and the man averted quickly. Lily was too clever a woman…

"Is there any chance he might come after you?" So she had either been listening in, or was just that good. Both were possible.

Black's lip twisted in discomfort, a small cut in the cushion of it split again, seeped red. "No… he won't. He could have killed me if he wanted, but didn't. I don't see why he'd come here."

"Good." Her wand was out, it tapped his lip, stopped the bleeding. Sirius rocked Harry gently, managed a quick glance upward at the strong witch that was Lily Potter. He found no disgust, only a serious concern. He loved them both for that. Never once did they recoil. They would never… not them.

"We'll take care of you." James was by his side, gently touching his shoulder. Black dipped his head to stare at Harry, fighting tooth and claw to keep his eyes from burning, to keep his chest from aching in both great loss and sudden gain.

A wand was flicked, the same that sealed his lip, and the couch twisted into a feather-soft masterpiece of a bed. Papers took wing into piles; pictures were turned away for the newcomer's needed privacy.

Sirius hugged the baby close and let one ragged sob heave his frame. Even Harry, pink and sleepy, looked at his godfather with eyes that knew only love. The child was carefully lifted away; the hands on his shoulders drew a dirty robe off in a slow, warm motion. Lily disappeared for a moment as James folded the garment and knelt to untie Sirius's boots.

Black did not move, let his arms hang limp and head remained bowed as lines of silent salt water trickled unevenly down is bruised and rough face. James peeled off layers as if they were fragile as paper and Sirius felt as though with every inch that was uncovered he was baring a piece of his soul.

Lily returned with a bag of vials and potions. Without hesitation or a single word, she smiled in a calming way and slowly closed the door behind her. James's palm was on the back of his neck, strong and supportive. Their movements spoke to him, whispered a truth. Safe. You're safe, Sirius Black.

The beaten man clapped his hands over his face in response as he shook in very sudden, audible cries. Grief and joy, embarrassment and thankfulness laced battled tears. And, although he could not look them in the eyes when his two friends finally saw the extent of his betrayal, Sirius Black knew that if he did, he would have seen nothing but love. In the end, that comforted him more than any spell might.

The world was different. He washed his face for a second time, brushed his teeth again and readied to write Dumbledore. Now, at two in the morning, James Potter saw the world as a place of sudden confusion and betrayed friends, of broken lovers and wrong turns. His lovely wife sat next to him, dictating the proper words to write about a very improper subject. They omitted the particular travesty due to a tearful request. He smiled at her when they finished and did not know anyone should ever smile back.

The matter or their secret-keeper would be discussed at a different time. They were a strong pair and one subject needed all their attention at the moment. James set up extra circles of protection, Lily concealed the bike. And Harry, trying to do his part, did not cry until well after daybreak.

James Potter pressed his fingers to his aching forehead and stared at a photograph on his desk. Four boys poked and shoved at each other, laughing in an uproarious way. Two stood closer than he had ever noticed them, exchanged glances of young obsession and cautious attraction. James stared at one face framed in well-kept, mousy hair and mourned in a hopeless way.

That boy was no more. That quiet, bookish, rule-conscious boy had finally died.

He dipped his head, covered his eyes and slowly realized that everything was going to change, forever. James Potter stared into the black of his eyelids and tried to understand these newly surfaced problems.

Three hours ago he had had a trustworthy friend, Sirius had had a lover and the Marauders were still intact.

Three hours ago, life had been frightening, and now it was purely horrifying.

This was not right, but this is how it was. He was an adaptable man. They all had to be now.

James Potter took a deep breath… and found his eyes again.


So... Green Bird writes again. So random. I miss fanfiction, but it is hell for me to get a complete one out. Do forgive me. I am such a phantom author.

-Your Obedient Servant-
Green Bird