A/N: Possibly the saddest thing I have ever written. Ever since I read the third book, I wondered what that hellish night must have been like for Sirius. If you'd like a sequel where he confronts Peter, put it in a review or PM me. Oh, and a good song to listen to while reading would be "How to Save a Life" by The Fray. (DISCLAIM! NOT MY SONG!)
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe.
A Night He'd Like to Forget
Grief. It's a word which can consume you. Which can destroy you. Which can take over everything in your life and make you feel like you're a walking zombie, better off dead. Sirius Black never truly knew how grief felt until the night of October 31st, 1981.
He hadn't heard from Peter Pettigrew, his close friend, since Peter had been made Secret Keeper a little more than a week ago. He knew indirectly that Pete was okay from a letter Lily sent him, but Peter's behaviour as of recently was causing him to be concerned. He was acting quite suspicious. Since it was Sirius who suggested that Peter, also known as Wormtail, should be named Secret Keeper of Godric's Hollow, Sirius felt it was his responsibility to make sure nothing happened. Lily and James had both wanted Sirius to be the Secret Keeper, but he insisted this was the most obvious plan, and Voldemort would be expecting this. What would be more surprising than Wormtail, known to be the least brave Gryffindor of the lot, not nearly so talented or intelligent as his friends, being made to keep it to himself?
The plan had seemed brilliant at the time, but now he was having second thoughts. He had arranged to check on his mate later that night, so what was the harm in checking in early? It was the only way he would get piece of mind on this matter.
He sighed to himself, wondering when he had become so... old. It was true he was only twenty-one, but mentally, he was much more mature than that. He had to be. Disowned at sixteen, a best man at eighteen, made a godfather at twenty, he had experienced more than a lot of people his age. But at this point he felt about forty years old as he put on some protective spells and went to check on his friend.
He flew on his motorbike close to Peter's apartment, because with the wards up he couldn't move right in front of it, otherwise it would set the wards off and make Wormtail think it was a Death Eater or the like. Luckily, the area where Peter lived was all wizards, so he didn't have to be sneaky about the noise, though he kept the cloaking shield on until he landed. Sirius dismounted his ride as soon as he hit the ground. He marched over to the front door and knocked determinedly. He saw lights on, so he was almost certain Peter was there. When there was no answer for a good five minutes, Sirius knocked again. There was still no answer. Cautiously, he tried the door handle, drawing his wand.
Alarmingly, it opened right up. "No..." Sirius whispered. "It can't be..." He looked about the house, and there was no sign of forced entry. But also, no sign of Peter at all. Not a sound, a disturbance in the room, or anything that he could see showed that Wormtail was there as he searched the apartment. Sirius did not feel at ease. Lily! James! Harry! He thought. "I need to see them, now," he said aloud.
He had to find out. He had to know if his friends were okay. It was a blind hope he had, but it was the only thing he could hold onto. Sirius whipped the door open, wand clutched tightly in front of him and ran towards his motorbike. He left the door open, not that he cared. Concern for the Potters and hatred for Voldemort, who had forced them to this situation in the first place blurred his vision. He clumsily put the keys in. He revved the engine to life and zoomed off into the sky. He now had to put on the cloaking shield, because Godric's Hollow was a Muggle village. Sirius muttered an endless string of profanities, whispering in between, "They are alive, they have to be," routinely until he got there.
He closed his eyes as he landed in the village because he just wasn't ready to see the Potter's house yet. Be okay. He thought, as he felt the bike touch the ground. He stopped his ride and leaned his head against the handlebars, breathing in and out. After about a minute of Sirius convincing himself Lily and James were alive and completely fine, he managed to move his head up and get off.
Scared beyond belief, he turned his head to glance at the home where Lily and James lived. And it was at that moment where his world came crashing down. It was... destroyed. He stepped forward into the remains of the house and saw James' body, lifeless and and still. His best mate, who was always full of laughter and kindness, had had the life ripped from him cruelly. He was only twenty-one.... he wasn't supposed to die, not yet, not now, a voice in his head repeated catonically. He kneeled down and closed the eyes of his friend, which were still wide open, and folded his arms, which were thrown out in a protective position, as if he was still trying to save his wife and child.
Sirius lifted his eyes to the rest of what used to be the hallway, and saw with increased horror the body of Lily Potter. It was even harder to believe. Lily, during everything, had been anything but lifeless. From her constant reprimanding of the Marauders at school, to her passion for her family, to her bravery and courage as she had faced Voldemort three times previously and won, she had been the opposite of death. She still had a pleading, yet defiant expression on her face as the moonlight hit her corpse.
He glanced up to where Harry's crib was before, but a blasted, empty spot remained, with no baby in sight. He was certain that after losing his best friends, he had also lost his godson. He couldn't take it and left the house, stopping just outside due to the crushing pain that enveloped his chest.
James, his best friend, the person who was more than a brother to him, dead. Lily, who had always been there for him, who understood him on a level no one else did, gone forever. Little Harry, he was probably gone too. That bloody Voldemort had killed an innocent child. In that minute, he would have rather done anything than face reality. He sunk down on his knees as he started to cry.
Sirius never cried. Not when he ran away from home, not when he first held his godson, not even when he found out Regulus had died. But this he could not stop. Sirius cried there, for James, for Lily, for Harry, for his blindness and stupidity, for his mistrust of someone who hadn't been doing anything wrong after all, for memories, for loss, for death, and for everything he had never been prepared to face.
In his body-shaking sobs, Sirius hadn't noticed a person standing there among the ruins. Or a small sound, that he was deaf to before, not able to hear over the sound of his crying. But though it was faint, he heard it then. Someone else was crying. A... baby? Is it possible? He thought, or rather hoped. But he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to hope again. Hope had only brought him dissapointment and sadness and grief. He didn't think he could put faith in that prospect, because it would hurt so much if turned out it wasn't true. He wiped the tears from his face to see better in the night.
He looked at the huge figure. Sirius knew who it was just by the shape. No one else could be that large. "H-Hagrid?" Sirius stuttered out.
"Sirius?" Hagrid responded, sounding as miserable as Sirius felt. "Oh M-merlin, Sirius, I'm s-s-orry. You-know-who... he's gone an'... and killed 'em! Lily an' James! James tried to hold Him off so Lily an' Harry could escape, but then...It was over. An' Lily, she gave her life tryin' ter protect their boy. B-but Harry, he's alive! H-he survived the Killin' Curse, an' he's right here! T-the curse rebounded an' hit You-know-who himself, destroyed t-the house.... Poor little Harry, been cryin' fer... 'em," he ended in whisper, his beetle-like black eyes filled with tears.
Sirius stood up on shaky legs, to look at the bundle in Hagrid's arms. Indeed, it was his godson. Harry was as the last time Sirius saw him, except with a large scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. It nearly ripped him apart, looking in that little boy's face. He looked so much like James, it was too much to take in. And his eyes, he could never forget Lily's eyes, no one who knew her would. In Harry's face he saw two of his best friends, brought together into one living person. It was his only connection to the friends he could never see again.
"Hagrid, give Harry to me," pleaded the broken man. "I'm his godfather, I'll take care of him." If he wasn't able to see his godson every day, Sirius wasn't sure what he'd do. And that was the point of being godfather, wasn't it? Taking care of the child if something... happened, to the parents.
Hagrid shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Sirius, I've got orders from Dumbldore ter take him directly ter his aunt an' uncles." Those words were like stabs at his already broken form. He was certain he'd collapse again if he kept on hearing things like this. He had to fight for this. I have to try.
"Hagrid, c'mon. You know what Lily's sister is like. She hates wizards, how do you think she's going to treat Harry? And from what I've heard she's already got a little boy, still an infant. Petunia won't want another kid, and do you really want him to face growing up with someone who hates everything he is and will be? He should stay with someone-- someone who cares about him. Someone who loves him. Please, Hagrid."
"S'not me decision. I have ter follow Dumbledore's orders, Sirius. I know how much yeh love him, but there's nothing I can do. I really am sorry, Mate. Lily and James would have wanted it ter be yeh, know that." Finished Hagrid, clapping the hand which was not holding Harry on Sirius' shoulder. It was with this comforting gesture that Sirius knew it was over. There would be no convincing Hagrid to let him have his godson.
Sirius nodded, trying to stop himself from crying again. He wanted to be the strong person whom he usually was, but in his place, it was damn near impossible. His kissed Harry on the forehead and whispered his goodbye, to both him and his parents, because he'd never be able to say it directly to them. This was probably the most he would see of Harry for years, and he wanted to make sure it counted.
He sighed, unable to change his zombie-like expression, even when Harry said "Paddy," in recognition. Sirius was about to leave, when a thought occured to him. "Hey Hagrid?"
"Yeah?" Inquired the half-giant, raising a bushy eyebrow.
"Would you like to have my motorbike? You can use it to take Harry to the Dursley's," he offered. He didn't want it anymore. It was the bike he had used on many an Order mission with... James. It was hard for him to even think the name of his best friend, and that was a sad, sad thing. But every time he even tried to think it, it caused a searing pain in his mind, trying to block out the grief which accompanied the name now.
Hagrid looked confused. "But, yeh love yer bike," he said, not able to make sense of it.
Sirius shrugged, though he knew it was true. "I won't be needing it anymore." he explained simply with another shrug. He couldn't bear to be in the presence of the site of the attack for much longer. He wanted to leave as soon as possible.
"Well, alright then," said Hagrid, "I'll take the bike. Thanks, Sirius."
Sirius muttered a 'you're welcome', before turning away and walking away from the ruins so he wouldn't have to see them as he left. He apparated to his house, attempting unsuccessfully to swallow the painful lump in his throat.
He walked inside, and as soon as he looked around his apartment, which was filled with pictures of he, the other Marauders, Lily and Harry, he wanted nothing more than Wormtail and Voldemort to die for what they had done. It was a horrible thought, wanting the death of a man whom he had considered a friend for more than ten years. But he felt nothing more than hatred for Pettigrew now. Well-deserved hatred, he thought.
Sirius went over to the bookcase, where, among many books about defensive spells, interesting hexes, and quite a few muggle works, was a photo album. The Marauders had shared a camera throughout their years at Hogwarts, so they each got a copy of every single picture taken with the camera, no matter who was in the photo. Each had bought albums in which they put their copies of the captured memories.
He took it out of it's spot and opened it to the first page, where each of the Marauders and Lily had signed messages for him. He hadn't looked at them in years, so it was like a whole new experience again. James' was simple, but to the point, Real best friends last longer than a lifetime, and if I have to stick with anyone for that long, I'm glad it's you. It brought a smile to his face seeing his best friends writing again, and the manner of speaking which was just so James.
Remus' message said, There are many great traits you have. Bravery, loyalty, selflessness and overall happiness But these aren't the only things that make you original. You are one of the only people I know who is stupid enough to hang out with a werewolf. And I thank you for that.That message made him feel guilty for ever thinking that Remus, the one who had unwavering morals and an absolute sense of what friendship meant, could ever turn a spy.
Lily's neat script was next. It read, Sirius, you are a much better person than you think you are. Always remember that no matter who tells you that you don't belong on our side, that you're just another one of those Blacks, you are a Gryffindor, brave and true. Whose name you take is not part of who you are, and it's the choices that make the person. And you've made the right ones. Sirius couldn't help but feel like a disappointment to her as he read this over. He hadn't made the right choices. He had been looking at the wrong person as a suspect all along. And in the end, it caused the deaths of his best friend, and the woman he would always have a bond with.
Sirius didn't want to read Wormtail's. Nothing that that bastard did deserved to be remembered, in his opinion. But he couldn't help that his eyes strayed to the bottom of the page to rest on the messy scrawl of his very rat-like friend. It was just one sentence. Not everyone ends up the way you thought they would. Even in his state of anger with Wormtail, he was concentrated enough to recognize the irony of it. Wormtail certainly hadn't turned out the way he thought. Had he been loitering with current or future Death Eaters in seventh year, when this was written, as well? He had been distancing himself subtly for quite a while, looking back on it, but it was never noticable to the others, save for maybe Lily, who hadn't ever liked him as much as she liked the other Marauders. When the others asked her why she had never confided in Pettigrew like she had to them, she quietly responded, "It's a Muggle thing. You're not supposed to trust a rat."
Smart girl, Lily is, Sirius thought. Was, I mean. He corrected himself, his hand forming into a fist to keep himself from throwing something at the wall. He flipped to the first page, which of course, had to be something with all the Marauders in it. It was a picture of the four of them, a week after they had owl-ordered the camera, taken by Hagrid. Sirius was putting rabbit ears behind James' head, while James stuck his foot out to trip Pete--- Pettigrew, and Remus rolled his eyes at the whole thing. It was very suitable to their dynamic.
Sirius flipped through the book, unsure whether he wanted to smile or sob, when he reached seventh year. This was tougher. Seventh year was when Lily and James had got together that year, so that part was full of the two of them. His eyes prickled dryly as another photo caught his eye. It was a picture of James and Lily, which had been taken by Sirius himself, where James was leaning forward, his arms around Lily, trying to kiss her. The girl in the photo giggled and swerved out of the way, just to the point where his lips were puckered in the air, looking very silly.
Looking through the pages of that book was how Sirius Black spent his night. The one he considered one of his favourites was photographed by Remus just after the Quidditch final in seventh year. James and Sirius were in their bright red robes, screaming with joy at their victory, and Lily was standing in between, her arms around both boys as she gave the two of them a kiss on the cheek, smiling so much it would probably hurt.
At points he was close to falling asleep, but he couldn't, and wouldn't rest. He figured he didn't deserve to have a peaceful night's sleep --not that he could sleep peacefully knowing that his friends were dead-- after what he had done. He could have kept them alive, if only he had become the Secret Keeper. If only... Sirius knew he could come up with a thousand reasons why it was his fault, but he knew that wouldn't make it any better.
He wished that Pettigrew could feel what he had felt, what James and Lily had felt, dying to protect their family, their son.
Slowly, a plan formed in his head, and he knew what he had to do. He at last decided it was fair to sleep, a grim smile forming on his face as he thought of what he would do the next day. Wormtail should have realized, there comes a time where every bit of blood you shed catches up to you. The man slumped over in his chair, and nightmares flashed before his eyes. Though he knew it was deserved, Sirius couldn't help but feel sad for what had to become, knowing his lost best friend would never approve. I'm sorry, James. For everything.