Author's Note: As some of you may know, this story was up for a while a couple years ago and, well, it was an experiment for me in characterisation and in writing in general. Looking back, I realise now that a lot of things could have been done differently in order to really push this story to the place I wanted it to go. Here it is, given a much needed face lift. I hope you will all appreciate this version a little more.
This is a darker story, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its more light-hearted moments.
Enjoy.
"Black, Sirius."
Sirius got to his feet slowly, kicking the chains aside. His hands were bound as well and, had he not become accustomed to them over the past weeks, he would have tripped. The doors to the court room swung open and Sirius trudged forwards, his head down. He knew what was coming and he had steeled himself for the inevitable. His footsteps echoed loudly, reverberating off the walls of the round courtroom. The benches were packed with wizards and witches, goblins and house elves. He had a feeling that at least some of his family would be in the crowd; he knew they couldn't resist watching what they had always waited for. Confirmation that the mad Black family heir really was just that - mad.
Sirius had been woken early this morning in his cell in Azkaban Prison and informed that his court date had been moved up immediately from next week to this morning. He was not surprised when he heard the news. He was making headlines, or ar least he had been. He had had the opportunity on several occasions while flipping through the old, beaten issues of the Daily Prophet for the crossword to sometimes catch a glimpse of himself on the front page. His court dates had been so erratic and well publicized that receiving the verdict early was not something that surprised him.
He took his seat next to the attorney he had been assigned and didn't take his eyes off his hands. He had been waiting for weeks for this verdict and wasn't about to give into false hope now. Even if he knew he was innocent, Peter had framed him so well and the wizarding world had been so morbidly in love with the horrific story of his brotherly betrayal of James that he knew his chances were slim to none of complete exoneration. Life imprisonment was something he had been steeled for since the first night he had been thrown into his six by eight foot concrete cell.
"All rise."
Sirius felt his arm being tugged on by the attorney and he shuffled awkwardly to his feet. He shook his long, lank hair from his eyes and glanced up at the judge. She was, to his surprise, a warm-looking lady who smiled ever so slightly at him when he looked up. Did he know her from somewhere? Sirius looked away quickly.
"Mr. Black, you stand accused of mass murder in the first and second degrees. You also..."
Sirius inclined his head ever so slightly and allowed the information to flow in one ear and out the other. He had little to no interest in listening to his charges; he had memorized them a hundred times over.
"Mr. Black. We called this court date immediately for a reason." The judge said, her voice coloured by a soft Irish lilt. "I'm sure you have been informed of the recent demise of Peter Pettigrew."
Sirius' head shot up. Recent demise?
"Peter Pettigrew's body was found in the east end of London near the docks early yesterday morning." She said, peering over her severe metal-frame spectacles at Sirius. "He was found with the digitus minimus manus removed by means of a deliberate slicing with either a knife or severing spell. It matches your testimony, Mr. Black. You realize the implications?"
Sirius stared, wide-eyed at the judge and then quickly glanced at his attorney who had gripped Sirius hard on the arm.
"Based on the evidence brought forward, the court finds the defendant not guilty," The judge said, a small smile playing at her lips, "and is exonerated from all charges."
Sirius felt immediately faint and stumbled backwards into his seat amidst an uproar of voices from around him. An unsettling wave of relief mixed with nausea passed over him.
He was free.
"Mr. Black, there remain only two small matters."
Sirius was seated in a dusty old armchair across from two lawyers from the Ministry of Magic, Albus Dumbledore and an uncomfortably pinched looking woman who was clenching a china teacup as if her life depended on it.
He had been out of Azkaban for less than twenty-four hours and he had found, to his great annoyance, that the only place he had to go back to was his family's manor. The flat he and Remus had shared before... before everything had happened had long been rented out and could no longer be signed back over to him. He therefore sat, uncomfortable amongst the ghosts of Black Manor, wearing clothes that were now far too big on him and a look on his face that could kill.
"The matter of where you will be living," said the first man.
"And the matter of young Harry Potter." finished the second.
The woman squirmed slightly in her seat at the name and eyed Sirius as if he were something quite disgusting she had just scraped off the bottom of her shoe.
Dumbledore patted the woman on the knee in what would have been a show of kindness had she not jumped about a mile in the air at his touch.
"As you know, the Potter child has been living with his aunt," Dumbledore looked pointedly at the pinched woman, " and uncle. However, custody fell to you, Sirius, under the Potters' will."
Sirius nodded slowly. When he heard that James and Lily had died, the weight of the knowledge that he was now a single father had been monumental on top of the loss of two of his best friends. The thought that he might one day see Harry again had got him through some of the worst times in prison. Harry was the only person he had left now and the knowledge that he had been relegated to the care of this bony muggle woman was excruciating.
"I will not," Harry's aunt spat, looking Sirius up and down, "turn over a child to a known and convicted convict. The child is much better off in a foster institution."
Sirius let out a low, raspy laugh.
"Mrs. Dursley," Dumbledore said patiently. "This man is a very well respected member of the wizarding community and was named by your sister and brother-in-law as your nephew's lawful guardian. He has been exonerated of all the charges so wrongfully laid against him."
"And we all know how secure those two were in their judgements." Mrs. Dursley said, the teacup rattling violently against the saucer as her hands shook.
Sirius leapt to his feet. "Dont you ever, ever speak ill of them, you pointy, snobbish old bitch."
The two Ministry men flinched and Mrs. Dursley narrowed her eyes, but Dumbledore raised his hand and silenced him.
"Sirius, if you please." Dumbledore said kindly, motioning once again to the armchair.
Sirius shut his mouth and set to chewing the inside of his cheek as he slowly took his seat.
"Now, Mrs. Dursley." Dumbledore said a small smile on his bearded face, "I understand you care very deeply for Harry, but - "
Mrs. Dursley let out a small derisive laugh.
"But Sirius is a very competent caregiver and has a home and quite a large sum of money set aside just for the care of your nephew." Dumbledore continued as if he hadn't heard the laugh.
Hatred boiled inside Sirius and, seeming to notice that a recent convict was eyeing her with a look that could very possibly kill her, Mrs. Dursley glanced nervously back at Dumbledore.
How had Harry been allowed to stay with these people? Sirius thought bitterly, Didn't James have cousins or distant relatives who could have taken him in? Where had Remus been for him?
"I insist that the child be placed in a foster home." she said, "My husband and I have custody and it is our final say. I know how the laws work, Mr. Dumbledore, thank you very much."
"Ah." One of the wizarding lawyers piped in, straightening his black bowler hat. "The wills of Mr. And Mrs. Potter were written according to wizarding law, and I am afraid that as Harry is a child of magic, it is binding."
Sirius fought to keep the smug expression off his face, and contented himself with a quick eyebrow raised in the Dursley woman's direction. She said nothing, but began to turn a deep shade of red and slopped a small amount of tea onto the armrest of her chair.
"And Sirius," Dumbledore said. "We would like to know where the best location would be to bring Harry to you. Would you like a few days to arrange your living situation?"
Sirius thought for a moment. After the initial wrestle they had had with his mother's portrait in the main hall and the brush with Kreacher, Sirius hardly thought this would be a safe place to raise a baby. He wouldn't have put it past the evil old house elf to poison Harry's milk or set rats loose in the nursery.
"My bank accounts will be restored to me?" Sirius asked.
"Yes. They are being held in Remus Lupin's name." Dumbledore replied. Sirius bristled slightly at the name. He had thought about Remus many times over the past while, but hearing his name out loud was another matter entirely.
"Is there much of it left?" Sirius asked, ignoring the looks shot at him by Mrs. Dursley.
"Enough." Dumbledore said, then turned to the two Ministry men. "Mr. Quimble, would you take Mrs. Dursley to the drawing room and have her sign the documents we discussed?"
Mrs. Dursley was shown to the door by the two men, leaving he and Dumbledore quite alone.
"There is one small matter, Sirius." Dumbledore said, leaning forwards. "Voldemort has been, as far as we can tell, vanquished. This does not mean, however, that his followers have been vanquished. The Dark sentiment is still quite alive and I do not believe you and the little one would be safe here."
"I figured as much." Sirius said, "I was thinking I could find a flat or small house somewhere in Notting Hill or somewhere like that. I could sell this place and -"
"I think, Sirius, that it is not just moving out of the neighbourhood that would be beneficial but... out of the country." Dumbledore said, very delicately cutting Sirius off.
Sirius leaned back in his chair. "The country?"
"I have taken the liberty of securing a decently-sized apartment in Edinburgh where you and Harry would be quite safe and quite happy." Dumbledore said.
Sirius' eyebrows shot up, "Scotland?!"
Less than a week later, Sirius found himself pushing a tarp-covered pram through the rain along a cobblestone Edinburgh street. A rain-soaked scrap of paper with an address scrawled on it was crushed into the palm of his hand and every so often he would check it to make sure he was still on track. They passed a record store, a green grocer's and an Italian wine bar on the way to Number 15 Wainscott Road which Sirius had been told was built on top of some kind of shop. When Sirius caught side of the bakery at the end of the road, he was quite pleased to realize the flat was built on the second floor. The excitement faded, however, when he realized that to get upstairs, he would have to pull the pram up a very narrow, rickety set of ancient stairs.
With a heavy sigh, Sirius turned around and began jerking the stroller awkwardly up the staircase to excited cries from Harry.
When he finally sloughed off his soaked jacket and water-logged trainers, he released the small, black-haired baby from his seat and set him down on the floor. Harry contented himself with sucking on his fist while Sirius took a look around. The flat was built over top of the bakery he had seen earlier and the decadent smell of chocolate was wafting up through the vents. If the rain hadn't been threatening to tear the roof off the place, Sirius would have enjoyed the view of the street outside which featured a wide boulevard and, somewhere in the distance, a park. The flat itself had two bedrooms, a large kitchen and a rather cramped lavatory. Sirius' few belongings were set in boxes in the middle of the large sitting room and, swinging Harry up into his arms, he crossed over to the pile and began sorting.
It had cost almost everything he had to turn himself from an ex-convict bachelor into a prepared, single father of one. He had received the key to his Gringotts account in an unmarked envelope from a great horned owl a day or so after his meeting with Dumbledore, Mrs. Dursley and the Ministry lawyers. He had shaken the envelope out upside down several times in hopes of finding some kind of note from Remus, whom he knew had sent the key, but when nothing had revealed itself he had thrown it angrily in the trash.
From a bassinet to baby bottles, Sirius had spent almost the entire sum of money he had to his name on Harry. The small amount of furniture he had brought with him from London was mostly stolen from his family's manor and would need a good deal of tinkering with to make presentable; the last thing he wanted was to sit down every day to eat and have to stare down at the Black Family crest emblazoned on the solid oak dining room table.
At around 4:00, after finally managing to quiet Harry down after he had woken rather fussily from his nap, Sirius swung him onto his hip and walked downstairs. He had shoved a woolen hat down over Harry's head, covering the rather prominent scar, as well as a matching woolen jumper Sirius had in a care package from Mrs. Weasley before they had left. The rain was still extraordinarily heavy and in the few steps it had taken him to go from the stairwell to the bakery door, he was almost completely soaked through again.
"Good afternoon!" a red-haired man about his age in a baker's uniform called. He stepped around the counter as Sirius stepped in the door.
Sirius pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the rain off of Harry's face, who squawked in protest. He glanced over at the baker and nodded in greeting.
"Towel?" the man asked, rushing over towards Sirius and Harry.
"Thanks." Sirius said, taking the fluffy white towel from him and setting to rubbing Harry's shoulders vigorously with it.
"You're the new tenants?" he asked through a thick, northern Scottish accent. "Absolutely lovely to have someone new upstairs."
"Yes." Sirius smiled, idly noticing the streak of flour of the baker's eyebrow, "Just arrived this morning. Thought Harry and I would pop 'round for a bite to eat."
"From England?" he asked, stretching his finger out for Harry to grab.
"How did you guess?" Sirius asked with a small laugh, pulling the towel away from Harry as he had begun chewing on it.
"I have just the thing to remind you of home." He smiled, placing his hand on Sirius' back and propelling them forwards to a table next to a large stack of french pastries. "You stay right here and I'll fix you right up."
Sirius smiled and watched him hurry off into the back kitchens. After the long trip, it was nice to be shown some hospitality. He sat Harry down on a seat next to him and pulled the chair in towards the table so he couldn't reach over and knock the pastries over like he had been threatening to earlier.
"Orange pekoe. Smoked." the baker came back around the corner carrying a porcelain tea pot and a cup. "And only the finest apple juice for the young Sir."
Harry reached up eagerly for the sippy cup and Sirius took the lid off the tea pot, leaned over and inhaled. For a moment, Sirius was whisked back to late night cups of tea smuggled into the Hogwarts library, sipped at while poring over homework with James, Remus and Peter.
"Lovely, isn't it?" the baker asked, smiling as he watched Harry drink voraciously from the cup.
Sirius looked up, unsure about how he felt.
"How did you know exactly what I was looking for?" Sirius asked, feigning cheeriness as waves of unwelcomed nostalgia crashed heavily over him.
"A worn and weary man always needs a cup of tea." he said, smiling. He took off his baker's cap and ruffled his copper-coloured hair.
"Worn and weary am I?" Sirius asked, with a small laugh.
"Not what I meant, Sir." he replied, leaning over to coo at Harry.
"Want to sit?" Sirius asked, realizing he had totally forgotten his manners.
"Oh! Would you mind?" the baker asked, "I do love babies."
"Make yourself comfortable." Sirius laughed.
"My name is Ainsley." he said, stretching his hand out to Sirius. "I'm an apprentice baker here."
"Sirius. And this is Harry." Sirius replied, shaking Ainsley's hand and motioning to Harry who was busy splashing his hands in a puddle he had somehow managed to extract from the cup.
"Sirius! What an unusual name." Ainsley smiled, reaching over and wiping the cup down with a cloth he had extracted from his apron. "Is Harry your son?"
Sirius chuckled to himself. "In a matter of speaking."
Ainsley looked up, his eyebrow raised, "In a matter of speaking?"
"I'm his godfather. I took him in after..." Sirius faltered slightly. "Well, after his parents died."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Ainsley said, reaching over and touching Sirius' wrist. "I'm a bit over-friendly sometimes. Over-curious."
"Oh, no!" Sirius said, "They died about a month ago. I'm just not used to saying it, is all."
"Well, you don't have to." Ainsley smiled, displaying a row of slightly uneven teeth. "I just heard the oven ding and you'll have your mouth so full you won't be able to talk at all."
Ainsley sprang to his feet and walked off once again towards the kitchen. Sirius reached over and rubbed the top of Harry's head over his hat. He hadn't expected to find someone so easy to talk to the first day he had arrived, but it was rather comforting.
When Ainsley returned with an enormous, flaky cornish pasty and a tray of animal biscuits for Harry, Sirius let out a deep groan. The smell was absolutely intoxicating.
"See? I'm a miracle worker." Ainsley said, grinning pleasantly as Sirius began to tear apart the pastry with his knife and fork.
"Oh, God." Sirius sighed, sinking deeper into his chair at the first bite. "This is incredible."
Sirius put a bit of meat and pastry onto Harry's plate and let him dig into it with his hands, munching away happily.
"Made it meself." Ainsley said proudly, reaching over to cut Harry's food up into smaller pieces.
"Thanks," Sirius laughed, watching Ainsley cutting the meat up into tiny bites. "I'm new to all of this."
"Not to worry. I was raised eldest of six." Ainsley smiled. "I'm an old hand at babies."
Harry chirped happily as Ainsley wiped his hands off with a cloth and began spoon-feeding him.
"That makes one of us." Sirius laughed. "Are you sure we're not distracting you from your work?"
"Ach, no." Ainsley said, winking at Sirius. "We're awfully slow on Sundays and, with the rain, nobody's going to come in. You're the second person in all day."
Sirius laughed. "Well, happy to help business."
"I'm happy for you to help business." Ainsley laughed, a pleasant sort of full-throated chuckle that made Sirius smile. "Oh, but this is on me."
Sirius frowned. "Really?"
"Yes, of course! What kind of host would I be if I made my guests pay for their meal?" Ainsley asked, looking absolutely affronted. "You just have to promise to bring Harry to visit me every day."
Harry slapped his hands excitedly into his food in response.
"I think he'd like that." Sirius smiled, reaching over and sliding the plate away from Harry.
"Great," Ainsley said, getting to his feet and wiping his hands off on his apron. "Can I give you some danishes for breakfast tomorrow?"
Sirius grinned, "I insist on paying for those."
"Fine, but only because you twisted my arm." Ainsley said, winking at him again.
"Will you – Harry! - Come on now – Just - "
Sirius had filled the claw-footed tub in their small bathroom with a couple of inches of warm water about ten minutes ago and had plunked Harry down into it. Harry had become extremely sticky from their visit to the bakery and that mixed with the expert way in which babies collected dirt and grime had given Sirius no other choice but to bathe him. Sirius had found himself taking quite easily to waking up in the middle of the night to quiet Harry down after night terrors, and had taken well to naptime and mealtime, but bathtime was something completely different. It rarely ever ended with Sirius remaining fully dry.
He was kneeling with his shirtsleeves rolled up while holding Harry up in the water. With one hand he held Harry still while the other poured soapy water over him. The slippier he became, the more fun Harry seemed to be having. It was fifteen minutes later before Sirius had managed to successfully remove the stickiness of apple juice and sugar from his hair. Sirius resolved that next time there would be no way to avoid getting into the tub with him.
Harry screamed as Sirius removed him from the water, wrapped him in the only towel he had managed to find and carried him into the bedroom. Sirius hadn't had time to build either his bed or Harry's bassinet and so it was the mattress on the floor for the both of them. Sirius set the squirmy baby down on the blankets and began rummaging around in the diaper bag for a spare nappy. He had caught Harry just as he was about to crawl back out into the sitting room and had swaddled him. The last thing Sirius wanted was to have to scrape poo off the carpet of their new flat.
Harry gurgled happily as Sirius tucked Harry in next to him on the mattress. He had read somewhere that babies shouldn't use pillows and so he had taken them off the bed completely. He sang quietly to Harry because he figured he should and waited for Harry to fall asleep. This was only the third night they had spent together and he was oddly grateful that Harry hadn't come to him straight after his parents' death. Sirius had been scared that Harry would have cried for James and Lily and he wasn't sure he would have been able to deal with it when he himself still cried for them.
As Harry snuffled and rubbed his eyes with his tiny hands, Sirius smiled. He could feel a lump rising in his throat and leaned his head down next to Harry's. Sirius let Harry hold onto his finger and shut his eyes, willing the tears to dry up. A week ago, he had been curled up in the corner of the most notorious wizarding prison in the world afraid that he would never see anyone he loved ever again. He had been almost certain that he would be charged with murder and sentenced to life in prison and the miracle that he had been released was not lost on him. He had been completely alone in the world and now, he would never be alone again
.
He stroked the hair away from Harry's eyes and cursed under his breath as his eyes shot open again. When Harry began gurgling away again, Sirius groaned. So close. He began to sing again, off-tune, he was certain, and rubbed Harry's small, round belly. Harry began to settle down again and slowly, very slowly, drifted off to sleep.
As quietly as he could, Sirius got to his feet and tip-toed out of the bedroom. The flat looked rather cozy at night despite its emptiness. The overhead lights were rather faint and cast a warm golden glow across the beige walls and white carpet. Sirius still needed to unpack and push every piece of furniture into place. He had no idea how he would do this while having to watch Harry so his only option, he figured, was to work at night.
With a chipped mug of whiskey to keep up his strength, Sirius began to unpack. First he sorted through the baby boxes, of which there were three, and then the kitchen supplies, of which there was barely one. He had never been much of a cook, but he supposed that would have to change.
The monotony of the work drew his mind away from the fact that he was hundreds of miles away from anyone he knew and the fact that the only people he had loved in the world are either dead, or won't speak to him. It had only been a day after James and Lily had passed that he had been arrested and that was only a few days after he had... accused Remus of working for Voldemort. When he had found out it was Peter who had betrayed Lily and James, and not Remus, he had wanted to die.
The only person he had left, and the only reason he hadn't gone mad completely, was asleep in the other room and Sirius desperately did not want to wake him.
