A/N: Hey guys. This is a story that I wrote for a contest. It's a one shot deal. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading.

The arguing never stopped. It was incredible how much energy was put into each retort. How on earth could two people fight this much and still be completely in love? At the moment, Harry Potter didn't particularly care to analyze his two best friends' romantic miracle. He just wanted the perpetual bickering to end.

"Ron, it's not Kreacher's fault that he is the way he is. He was predisposed to evil, and so that's what he became. He was taught that his way is right; you can't alter the teachings of childhood."

A snide laugh came in response to this statement, "Yeah, because being told that magic isn't real for a decade really shaped you, didn't it? Couldn't be altered after that."

"That's different, and you know it, Ron. Why do you insist on being so ignorant? For once, think about a species other than your own typically skewed male race. Think about how horrible it must be to not have the ability to say, 'I don't believe this is right.' Honestly, take two minutes and just think, Ron!"

Harry had had enough.

"You two! Stop. Having. A. Go. At. Each other," he bit off the words with clenched teeth.

The fighting stopped immediately. Ron and Hermione stood in the corner of the dusty, abandoned room looking ashamed. They had clearly wanted to avoid upsetting Harry, but the pull to their normal pattern of arguing over everything had been too strong. Harry took in a huge breath and let it out in a massive sigh. He hadn't meant to make them feel as though they shouldn't be here. After all, Harry had asked them to come.

"Listen, I agree with Ron, Hermione. No," he cut Hermione of as she attempted to retort, "It is better that Kreacher isn't here. He's much better off at Hogwarts and I need to do this without him here."

It was a mark of how serious Harry's tone was that Hermione did not counter this with a remark, but simply nodded and said,

"Of course, Harry. Where should we start?"

Harry looked around the desolate room. He would rather be anywhere else right now, but this had to be done.

"Well, I suppose Si- his room would be the best place to start."

Ron and Hermione nodded their assent and followed Harry's trudging pace out of the room into a bedroom that hadn't been used in a year. Huddled in the doorway, Ron and Hermione waited anxiously to follow Harry's lead. They were not going to act until Harry had first. Harry felt tears threaten, and took that as an incentive to move about and try to stem the flow. He moved with an almost leaden feeling, as though his shoes had filled with heavy rocks. Shuffling along without really thinking, Harry opened the bedside drawer and discovered a thick stack of books bound with twine. Harry pulled them out with shaking hands. He felt himself being lowered to the bed as if someone else were controlling his movements. He clumsily untied the twine, and spread the identical books out in front of him.

Hermione moved forward slowly. Ron lightly grabbed her arm, and she looked him in the eye. Harry was oblivious to the silent discussion happening in the doorway. Ron was saying with his grip and his eyes that Hermione should let Harry do this on his own, while Hermione's warm hand on his hand that grasped her so firmly along with her compassionate gaze said that Harry needed his friends. After all, he had invited Ron and Hermione to come along with him to go through Sirius's belongings before the summer was over and they moved on to more dangerous things.

Harry's mind was completely blank except for one thought: he wished Ginny were here. The trio had had a difficult time convincing Mrs. Weasley to allow them to come here on their own. She had wanted to come with them, but Harry had wanted to do this with minimal involvement from anyone other than Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. He and Ginny had gotten back together at Bill's and Fleur's chaotic but successful wedding.

Harry remembered the difficult conversation now, how Ginny had helped him realize what he should have known before, the same thing that Dumbledore had so insistently believed and tried to convince Harry of: love was the one thing that Voldemort could not understand. Denying himself the love he craved even as he rejected it during this crucial time in his life would not only be distracting, but would hurt Harry more than Voldemort ever could. Harry and Ginny's rekindled relationship was not the only topic of conversation during the days that followed. Ron and Hermione had finally realized their feelings for one another. This meant there was a certain amount of tranquility to the groups' summer days.

With the air at the Burrow so content and peaceful, Harry had been shocked that Mrs. Weasley brought up Sirius.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley aware of the fact that they were planning to go to Godric's Hollow this year, but she only knew that they were going to see Harry's parents' graves. This, Harry supposed, had prompted her to suggest that now would be an excellent time for Harry to go through Sirius's belongings. Harry had insisted that it just be him, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Mrs. Weasley had seemed hurt at first, but Harry managed to explain how deeply this would affect him, and he didn't want her to see him this way. She had reluctantly agreed on the condition that Ginny stayed home. She had not passed her Apparition exam as the trio had—Hermione back in their sixth year and Ron and Harry just a week before—and that would mean hooking up the Floo Network and other complex steps to get Ginny to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry knew that Mrs. Weasley's logic was, well, logical, but he could only think that he would like to have Ginny there to support him. Realizing that he could lean on Ginny without appearing weak, Harry wished with all of his heart that she were with him right now.

Staring with unseeing eyes at the canvas volumes in front of him, he started as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up with shock, Harry registered that it was Hermione. She wore that "concerned" Hermione expression that Harry loathed. He always felt pathetic when she turned that gaze on him. Thankfully, she didn't speak. She settled herself behind Harry on the bed, staring at the tomes. Ron moved towards them with a sigh of resignation. He settled next to Hermione, also looking over Harry's shoulder. What Hermione had in subtle concern, Ron was only to voice what he was feeling.

"So, Harry…are you planning on opening those, mate?"

Hermione elbowed Ron, and glared at him.

"What? No one was saying anything, and I reckoned that if I didn't we'd be sitting here all night. Mum would send out a search party, and it would just turn into this massive thing. I thought I should say something," Ron mumbled.

Harry gave a weak smile as Hermione continued to look disapprovingly at Ron.

"No, he's right, Hermione. I do need to look through them."

Hermione nodded and grasped Ron's hand in a symbol of apology. Harry watched Ron squeeze her hand, and felt a pang of longing for Ginny. Shaking it aside, he pulled a random book towards him. He had a suspicion as to what they contained, but he wasn't sure. Opening the cover, Harry read in a familiar print: The Night . Harry thought he knew exactly what night it was that Sirius had written about in this journal, but he wasn't sure he was ready to read it.

"Harry, we don't have to read this now. We can take it with us," Hermione nearly whispered her voice was so soft.

Harry shook his head, "No," his voice broke and he cleared his throat, "No," he said more clearly, "If I don't do this now, I won't do it at all."

Ron nodded at Harry, "Go on, then, mate. We're here."

Hermione laid a comforting hand back on Harry's shoulder and gave a light press. Harry knew that he had his friends' support. And when he finished this reading, he could go back to the Burrow. Back to the comfort of family. Back to Ginny and back to some semblance of normalcy. But for now, he turned the page and began to read; Ron and Hermione following along over his shoulder.

There is no way to write how I feel at this moment. All I know is that I have to. If I'm going to figure out where that worthless little rat is, I have to have my facts straight. I can start by saying, tonight is the worst night of my life…

I don't need to say how dangerous things were up until just hours ago. It was my seemingly brilliant idea to change the Secret Keeper. My BLOODY idea! Change it to Pettigrew, I said, no one will suspect that he's your Secret Keeper. Brilliant suggestion, Sirius, just brilliant. I suggested it, and I worried about it. I knew it wasn't a wonderful thought, but blast it all if I didn't think Lily and James would be safer this way! I was sitting at the table, eating dinner, wondering if I should check up on Wormtail. Just to see if he was all right. Ha! All right? He's all right! What was I thinking? If I had been a few minutes earlier!

My guilt at putting Wormtail, who couldn't fend off a mosquito, in this position ate at me until I decided I should check his hiding place out. Just to be sure he was ok. I got on my bike, and I flew to the hole we had him living in. It wasn't for lack of trying to get him a better place; he insisted he was 'just fine' where he was. Of course he was. It would be easy to leave a shack like that; no remorse at all for the loss of home or dignity or friends! So I turn up there, and he was gone. At first, I thought something had happened. I worried. I was scared for Pettigrew! Actually scared for the safety of a man I thought was our friend. Mine and James' and Lily's. What a joke that was! It finally hit me, as I stood in the center of the room that Wormtail wasn't in danger at all. The wood creaked under my boots and I seemed to have serious trouble picking my feet up to move towards the door. My insides turned to lead. I could only think, "James…Lily…James...

Lily." I found myself tearing from the shack, ripping the dangling door from its rusty hinges. I wasn't even processing now. I was simply acting through nature and instinct. I knew I had to get to James and Lily. Something was very wrong. I love how I say 'something was very wrong.' I'm just stating the obvious; of COURSE something was wrong!

My mind raced through all the possible worst case scenarios. James had fended Voldemort off and Lily had escaped with Harry. Perhaps they had had their house destroyed in attempts to escape. If my friends were alive, they had nothing; that was for sure. These, let's just be clear, were the only thoughts I seemed to be capable of having. No scenarios of death of all the family seemed to enter my mind. I always pictured scenarios of one dying, leaving the others safe. I think if I had pushed my mind to the extreme likelihood of all three of their deaths, I would have fallen right out of the sky.

As it was, I could feel the winds whipping my cheeks. Tears weren't even ready to form behind my eyelids. I wondered, myself, if I had lost all of the senses I possessed except sheer panic. It was panic that drove me tonight. In fact, I expect that I won't remember much of tonight when tomorrow comes.

I seemed to hear cheering and celebration as I neared James's home. I had been holed up in my house all day, and I hadn't paid any attention to the goings-on. Flying low in the sky I distinctly heard a cheer of "You-Know-You is gone forever!" For a brief moment, I allowed myself to believe that James and Lily had defeated Voldemort. The whole way from that point to Godric's Hollow, I convinced myself that they were alive. I was so sure that my best friends had overcome the most powerful wizard of all time that when the remains of the Potter's house came into view, I talked myself into believing that Lily and James had destroyed their own home in the process of dueling with Voldemort. My stomach seemed to know better. It was going mad, flipping here and there. I landed my bike before I crashed it, and I made out the massive form of Hogwarts's Gamekeeper, Hagrid. Why would Hagrid be rummaging in the wreckage of Lily and James's house? It hit me then; that moment.

They were dead. I moved towards the house, shaking. I couldn't control it. Hagrid couldn't see me as I moved into the doorway that was simply that now: just a doorway. The frame around it had been destroyed. I leaned against it, willing myself to at least ask Hagrid what had happened. I talked myself into moving. One foot right after the other. I had to give my mind very simple instructions or I was not going to be able to control even the easiest coordination attempts. I stumbled on the sixth step forward, cracking broken wood and debris under my weight. Hagrid turned his massive head, his face streaked with tears and a bundle in his arms.

"Sirius, I'm…I mean…James 'n Lily were as good as they come. It's summat terrible when a witch and wizard good as them…I jus' don' understand how…" Hagrid attempted to finish a thought, but broke into huge sobs proportional to his size.

I didn't want to comfort Hagrid, cruel as that may sound. I wanted to be alone with my grief. Then I heard a cry issuing from the bundle in Hagrid's arms. I had a thought. Surely it couldn't be…could it have happened? How could little Harry have survived when James and Lily didn't?

"Hagrid? Is that…Harry?"

Hagrid nodded sadly, blowing his nose with the hand that wasn't cradling Harry.

"They're sayin' little Harry 'ere was the one who stopped "You-Know-Who." They say He couldn't kill Harry."

More sobs ensued. Past my grief, past the immeasurable pain I was feeing, I felt a slight relief. My godson. I would care for James's and Lily's son. He would know his parents through me and I would have James through him.

"Hagrid, could I hold him?" I asked, proud that my voice didn't break.

Hagrid nodded once more and handed Harry to me. Hagrid seemed glad to have both hands so as to blow his nose on his massive handkerchief. I looked down at Harry, and I loved him. He looked so peaceful, gurgling in a baby's oblivious manner. I couldn't bring myself to feel glad, but I did feel as though there was hope now that I had Harry. Hugging him to me, I looked at Hagrid.

"Give him to me, Hagrid. I'm his godfather."

Hagrid looked pained, "I would, Sirius, but I 'ave Dumbledore's orders to bring Harry to 'im."

I felt the air leave my lungs. I was granted one lifeline after the deaths of my best friends, and it was ripped away. Dumbledore ordered it?

"But…Hagrid…why?"

And then it hit me: Dumbledore wasn't aware of the fact that we had switched Secret Keepers. He still believed me to be James's and Lily's Secret Keeper! I understood now why he would want Harry immediately brought to him for safe-keeping. And he was right. Until I could track that rat down and get a confession out of him, Dumbledore would have to have the final word. Handing Harry over was the hardest thing I have ever done. It felt as though I was literally wrenching an appendage from my body. I told myself that I would see Harry again soon, but as I looked around the ruin of what had once been a lovely, family home, I saw all that Wormtail had destroyed. His best friends and now the life of their son, who would grow up without his parents. I was filled with anger. I didn't just want a confession. I wanted revenge! I want revenge! To kill the man who betrayed us all! This anger left such despair in its wake that my voice wavered.

"Alright, Hagrid. You can take my bike. I don't need it anymore."

Hagrid managed to look shocked even beneath his tear-strewn demeanor, "But, Sirius. You love yer bike."

I gave a harsh laugh, "It doesn't really seem all that important, now does it?"

Hagrid only nodded and promised, "I'll get it back ter yeh."

It didn't matter anymore. I would be gone by the time Hagrid came to return it. I would be on the hunt for a man I once thought to be a friend. I gave a small wave as Hagrid rode away with a loud gunning of the engine. I watched him disappear into the night sky and I managed to stand straight and Apparate home as the Muggles began to come outside to investigate the source of the noises.

I hit the floor in my small home. I didn't know what room I was in, nor did I care. All of the horrible sorrow that had managed to be held in while I was with Hagrid seemed to bubble up and over. I remained on the floor and the tears began to flow. My best friends. James. We were more brothers than friends. How am I supposed to cope without him? The years spent together when I lived more often at his home then at my own. James, my partner in crime and my best friend. And Lily. The kindest person I have ever known. But she had a hell of a hex. I managed a watery laugh that changed rapidly into racking sobs. How could he do this! He was supposed to be our friend! SUPPOSED TO BE OUR FRIEND! This is my fault! I suggested the change. James didn't want it. Why didn't I listen? Why? Why? There're so many things that I can't even think about right now. I need to send my stuff away. To where? I don't know. This pain, gut-wrenching heartache has to go away. How can I cope without the only two solid things in my life? And now Harry's gone as well.

I will seek revenge on Peter Pettigrew. Whether it takes me the rest of my life to find him or not, I will find him. And when I do; I'm going to kill him for betraying them! This is my fault and I have to deal with that. I will kill him, and I'll get Harry back. He should be taught how wonderful his parents were. He should know.

Tomorrow, I'll send my things to Grimmauld Place. I never plan to return, but I know that it won't be ransacked. I'll sell this house, and I won't return until I've had vengeance and Harry's returning with me. Surely I'm suspected for killing my friends; I did kill them. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. James…Lily…I'm so sorry.

Harry was crying a steady stream of tears. These tears fell onto the already tear-soaked water damaged parchment of Sirius's journal. Hermione was crying behind him, and Ron held her in his arms, looking grief stricken, but controlled for both Harry's and Hermione's sakes.

"How would I feel if I lost them? What if Voldemort kills them? It will be my fault. This wasn't Sirius's fault, but if Ron and Hermione die, it will most definitely be mine," Harry thought to himself.

Hermione gave Ron a peck on the cheek, signaling him that it was okay to release her. Ron did so slowly, as if making sure that she was really alright. Hermione leaned forward and pulled Harry into a hug. Harry had not expected this and it broke the stretched nerve in his mind. All of the tears he had managed to hold in broke free like the water in a dam. He sobbed into his best friend's shoulder, while she kept a firm hold on him. Surely if she let go, he would be lost forever. Hermione's arms were the only thing holding him on earth.

"It…wasn't…his…fault," Harry choked out, "He…always…thought…it…was. I-I w-wish I had known h-how guilty he f-felt. I c-could've t-told him it wasn't h-his fault."

Hermione shushed him, and he sobbed until he could not shed another tear. Ron looked as though he was on the verge of tears as well, and he clasped Harry on the shoulder as Hermione released her woeful best friend. She leaned back into Ron, wiping her face frantically in attempt to be strong. Harry drew in a shaky sigh, and Ron spoke in an effort to stimulate normalcy, "So, he must have sent this with all of the things he sent back here. Listen, Harry, it's good that you read this. Now you know how much he wanted to keep you, even in the beginning. Now you know how much your parents were loved, mate."

Harry nodded, and sat up. He stood and shook his head.

"Let's get all of this stuff gathered up. We'll take the rest with us."

The other two nodded and moved silently off the bed to help Harry collect the rest of Sirius's belongings. Harry wanted nothing more than to go home to The Burrow and sleep. Sirius had held so much guilt. And his parents' death had been truly horrendous. Harry looked out the window of the room. It was covered it grime, and as a result he saw a grey-tinted day outside. The sorrow of this day was just another day of misery to add to his collection of miserable days. But for Sirius, the day Harry's parents died was the worst day imaginable. Harry glanced once more at Ron and Hermione and decided that if they died and Ginny was gone as well, he'd be glad to join them in the afterlife. He felt the unhappiness lift a bit at the thought of Sirius being reunited with his parents. Looking out the window once more, Harry could have sworn he saw the sun peeking out; reassuring him that he had come to the correct realization.

A/N: All right. That's it. Just a short story. Hope you liked it, though. Please review! I beg of you!