Disclaimer: You know the drill... I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, etc... thanks to JK Rowling for inventing this fantastic world and giving us fanfic writers a place to play around in.
Author's Note: I tried to keep this as accurate to the books as possible, I more than likely deviated here and there, and I do beg forgiveness for the potential abuse of fanficcer's license.
The Road to Azkaban
By William Logan
Chapter 1: The Secret Keeper
The large motorcycle slammed into the damp earth in front of the house on Godric's Hollow, giving its dark-clad rider a jolt as its roaring engine died, giving way to the eerie silence that hung in the air. Sirius Black dismounted swiftly, his long, black hair flowing over the back of his leather jacket as he rushed to the front door, which, much to his dismay, he found mostly in splinters resting against the wall. Black suffered an involuntary shudder from a mixture of the chill October air and the horror that he knew must be awaiting him inside, judging by the complete silence and the state he found the sitting room at the front of the house in. The couch was overturned and smoldering, a matching armchair lay in pieces around the room.
"James!" Black shouted, whiring about in a panic, his wand now drawn and at the ready, "This isn't the time for hide-and-seek, James, answer me!" The silence told him more than he wanted to know. He checked the kitchen and found it in much the same condition, a few odd Muggle appliances shattered on the floor, every cup and dish in the place shattered, even though none of them had left the now doorless cupboards.
"Lily, blast it all! Evans, if I find out this is some sort of cruel joke!" His voice was starting to break a bit, the truth coming to him quickly. First, he had found Pettigrew's hiding place empty, the only personal effect left in the place a quickly scrawled note: "So sorry, Sirius..." it had read. He ran up the stairs and nearly tripped over a body sprawled on the ground. Black dropped to his knee and let out a groan.
"James... oh, James..." He muttered, staring at his best friend, whose eyes were wide open in shock, the life completely gone from them, his glasses perched at an odd angle on his lifeless head, the right lens shattered. Recovering from the shock quickly, Sirius leapt to his feet and rushed to the nursery, the door of which was also quite in the same state as the front door of the house: splintered and laying on the ground, next to a woman's body, her red hair obscuring her face as she lay crumpled beside the crib against the wall. A Hollyhead Harpies mobile dangled over the crib, spinning wildly. Sirius closed his eyes and steeled himself for the worst, slowly approaching the crib. He slowly opened his eyes again and peered downward, finding Lily and James's infant son, Harry, his godson, awake, eyes fixed on the mobile with its rotating Quidditch players. He looked like he had just gotten done with a crying fit, being quite blotchy red in the face, his cheeks damp. On his forehead was a deep red scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. Sirius squinted at this and quirked his eyebrow curiously, but quickly ignored it and picked up the child, cradling him carefully and soothing him, trying to not begin weeping openly himself.
The sound of a loud, crackling fire starting up and then quickly going out came from downstairs, and Sirius was on guard again, placing Harry carefully back in his crib and drawing his wand again. He slowly made his way down the stairs, finding Rubeus Hagrid at the foot of the stairs, brandishing a pink umbrella menacingly, and Alastor Moody standing a few feet away, near the fireplace, his wand drawn, electric blue eye spinning about wildly. The latter tensed when he saw Black, readying his wand to cast a jinx, before scowling.
"Sirius! What're you doing here?" Moody demanded, his eye now focused completely on Black.
"I had reason to believe Voldemort had found James and Lily... turns out I was right," he scowled, "they're up here... what's left of them anyway."
"An' Harry?!" Hagrid wailed, his beetle-like eyes already pooling up with tears.
"He's all right, somehow," Black said, sighing with some relief, an odd sort of calm coming over him, "looks like Voldemort hit him with some spell or something... has an odd sort of scar on his forehead." Alastor rushed past Black to investigate, side-stepping James's body without even pausing a moment to look at his fallen comrade. "Real compassionate, that Moody is," Black muttered, making his way down the stairs. Hagrid pulled a rather large kerchief out from his waistcoat and blew his nose noisily. Black came up alongside him and patted him on the shoulder reassuringly.
"I oughtter been here... mighta givin' 'em a fightin' chance aginst Yeh-Know-Who..." the half-giant sniffled loudly.
"You'd've been killed, too, Hagrid."
"Poor James an' Lily... never did nothin' ter no body, either..."
"Well," Sirius said with a small smile, "Lily never did, anyway..."
Moody trudged his way back down the stairs, Harry in his arms, wrapped in a blanket, "I contacted Dumbledore via Floo Network... looks like Voldemort tried to hit Harry with a killing curse, but it rebounded somehow... not really sure how it happened, but it did. This boy has got to be the luckiest little wizard alive."
"Both of his parents are dead, Mad-Eye, I'd hardly consider that luck," Sirius sneered. Alastor ignored this comment and continued.
"Hagrid, Dumbledore wants you to bring Harry to him in Little Whinging... ah... Number four, Privet Drive, to be specific."
"Here," Sirius said, "take my motorcycle... it'll be faster, just don't let any Muggles see you flying," he handed his keys over to the large man and patted him on the shoulder as he headed for the door.
"Hold on, Sirius..." Black stopped in his tracks at Moody's voice and looked back over his shoulder to see that the Auror still had his back turned to him, and was obviously staring at him with his magical eye, through the back of his own head, "You were James's best friend... this place was protected with a Fidelus... surely you know who their Secret Keeper was?" Moody turned slowly to face Sirius as he asked this question, but by the time he had turned around, a loud crack signaled the disappearance of Sirius Black.