Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I wish I did, but I don't. J.K. Rowling does.
*********************
"Darkness seems to be the only company I ever have." Thought Sirius Black with a sigh as he lay on the hard, dirt floor af an old abandoned
cabin. But it wasn't because of the darkness, or even the rock hard floor that he couldn't sleep. For 15 years all he had known was darkness and
hard floors, they certainly didn't bother him now. He felt something, a vague unrestlessness, that wouldn't allow him to sleep. His sigh echoed
again through the empty cabin as he stood up and walked slowly to the window. He pushed aside the towel curtain that he had put up himself,
and looked out into the pitch black night. It was a full moon. His thoughts strayed to Remus, and he wished more than anything that he could
be with his friend now. That they could share another night of laughter and adventure like they had all those years before.
He let the towel fall back into place and walked to the other side of the room, where he kept his few possesions. There was a stick on which he
marked the days as they passed, a few hard biscuits, and a picture. It was faded and dirty, and the edges were chared slightly as if it had
been in a fire. He ran a caloused and dirty finger along the face of a young boy, no more than two years old. This was all he had left of his past,
all he had left to remind him that those awful memories were not just nightmares, as he so often wished to believe. He laid the picture aside and
picked up the notched stick. He counted the marks and then added one at the end. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat as he realized
what day it was. It was October 31st. It had happened sixteen years ago today. He sat down on the floor and leaned his back against the wall,
his eyes closed and his knees pulled up agains his chest. How did this happen to him, Sirius Black? Twenty years ago he had been a
fun-loving, easy-going prankster, famous all over Hogwarts for his hilarious jokes and, as the girls put it, "His dashing smile." And now, here
he was, an escaped convict hiding out in a deserted cabin. Alone. It seemed as if he had always been alone. He could vaguely remember times
when he had been surround by friends, but now those memories seemed barely more than whispers of a dream. He took himself back in his
memory, back to that horrible night sixteen years ago, the night that his life changed forever.
******************
Sirius Black sat on his couch, the same place he had been sitting for the last hour, his eyes glued to the clock above the fire place, his feet
taping nervously on the hard wood floor. When it ticked onto eleven o' clock he jumped up like a spring and practically ran out of the front
door. He grabbed his motorcycle from where it was leaning against the garage, leaped on top of it, and started it up. Many thoughts ran through
his head as he flew through the black sky, none of them reassuring. He reached his destination, which was a lonely house sitting by itself in the
country. As soon as he landed he started running toward the door of the house. He knocked several times on the door, but no one answered.
Something was definitly wrong, and it wasn't just his imagination this time. He turned the door knob slowly, and to his surprise the door
opened. It wasn't locked. It should have been locked. Trying to push away the panic that was making his heart beat much faster than usual, he
stepped inside. Silence. "Peter!" He called. "Peter, it's Sirius!" No one answered. Sirius searched the whole house, but no one was there, and
there was no sign of a struggle. A strangled sound escaped his throat as he realized what must have happened. He turned and ran back outside,
vaulted onto his motercycle and before he was even on it properly he was already speeding away from the house. He didn't even know his
bike was capable of going this fast.
As he turned around the last tree and drew close to the peaceful hollow, a horrible sight met his eyes. In the middle of the row of houses, where
once stood a house like all the others, was a huge pile of rubble, still smoking and burning in places. Sirius leaped off his his bike and left it to
fall to the ground. He ran toward the scene, irrationaly hoping that once the smoke cleared away instead of a pile of ash lying there, there would
be a house. He stopped at the edge of the destruction, staring in disbelief and shock at what he saw. Only yesterday a friendly, welcoming
house had stood here. It was the kind of home where you felt you could just walk into, even if you were a stranger, and be welcome as if you
were family. Lily had taken months to plant rose bushes around the entire house, now not a single one remained. Sirius felt hot tears falling
down his cheeks, but made no effort to wipe them away. What did it matter if he cried, The three people who had meant more to him than
anything, were gone. Gone. Suddenly he realized with a shock that it was his fault that they were gone. He was the one who persuaded James
into using Peter as their secret keeper. If Sirius hadn't done that, the Potter's would still be here. He felt as if he could have killed himself then
and there, but didn't for one reason, and one reason only. Peter. Peter had betrayed them. It might have been partly Sirius's fault, but Peter had
intentionally betrayed them. After all that they had done for him. They had been Peter's family because he had none of his own, they had
helped him when he was helpless, and encouraged him when he needed encouragement . And after all that, the little rat killed them. Sirius
clenched his teeth in anger. He would kill the traitor even if he himself had to die in the process.
Suddenly the quiet stillness of the scene was broken by a soft wail. Sirius's head snapped up as he heard it again. It was a baby crying.
Suddenly he realized something that he had been too distracted to notice before. There was no Dark Mark hanging above the dreary scene,
and there should have been. In Sirius's mind this could mean only one thing. Harry was still alive. Sirius had no idea how this could be possible,
but he allowed himself to hope that it was.
He pushed his way through the ash and debris until he came to Lily's body. She was lying still and seemingly unharmed, and a stranger might
have mistaken her for merely sleeping. But the usual glow was gone from her once rosy cheeks, and the sparkle was absent from her bright
green eyes. Sirius kneeled down and carefully closed her eyelids. Then he stood and looked around him. Not a foot from Lily he saw a small
bundle, it was wiggling. He walked causiously toward it, a little apprehensive of what he might find hidden in it. He bent down and slowly
pulled away the blanket. It was Harry. There was no mistaking those brilliant emerald eyes and the jet black hair. Sirius smiled sadly at the
infant boy. "Hello, Harry. What are you doing here?" He whispered softly as he picked the child up and cradled him in his arms. The boy had a
huge, gaping gash across his forehead, and it was bleeding profusely. Sirius tried to wipe some of the blood away with the hem of his robes,
but it did very little good.
He knew now that he couldn't go after Peter. As Harry's Godfather it was his duty to take care of him. But the thought was not a displeasing
one. Sirius had never had much of a family, and now he had someone very like a son. He wrapped the small blanket tighter around the crying
baby and walked slowly towards his motorcycle. Suddenly he heard something behind him. He whirled around, ready to run with Harry if
necessary. But the person standing there wasn't who he thought it might have been. It was Hagrid, the Hogwarts game keeper, and he was
bawling like a mad-man. Sirius stood in stuned silence. What was the Hogwarts game keeper doing here? The huge man finnaly slowed his
crying long enough to talk. "Lo, Sirius." He sniffed. "ThetHarry you got there?" Sirius nodded, he wasn't sure if he trusted his own throat
enough to talk. Hagrid stepped up besides Sirius. "Cute little bugger, ain't he?" He asked as he started bawling again. Sirius nodded yet again.
"Listen Sirius, I know ye're his Godfather en all, but I have strict orders from Dumbldore hisself that I'm to take Harry with me." Sirius stared at
Hagrid in numb shock. "But, you can't take him away! Please, Hagrid, he's all I have left." He whispered desperatly. Hagrid wiped his nose
rather noisily on a huge handkercheif. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I have ter obey Dumbledore, I'm sure it's all fer the best." He really looked
sorry, too. Sirius knew Hagrid was right, and as he thought about it he realized he had no idea where to even start with raising a child. He bite
his lip as he looked into those familiar green eyes. Just like Lily's. "Good bye, Harry." He whispered as he handed the small bundle to Hagrid.
Hagrid nodded, the tears still streaming down his huge bushy beard. "Here, take my motorcycle, it will get you there much quicker than a
broom." Sirius offered as Hagrid was about to climb onto an old worn out school broom. Hagrid sniffed and climbed onto the motorcycle. He
looked up into Sirius eyes, eyes so desolate and devoid of hope. "It'll all work out al'ight in the end." Hagrid muttered, trying to give the man
something to cling to. Sirius nodded, but Hagrid could tell that he didn't beleive what he had said. But he couldn't delay any longer, so he
started up the bike and went on his way.
Sirius watched him till he was out of sight, and even then he couldn't make himself look away. Harry had been all that he had left, and now he
was gone, too. He turned around and walked slowly back toward the rubble. He had to say good bye to James. He couldn't hold the tears in any
longer as he knelt down by the body of his best friend, who was still holding has wand tightly in his hand. Why did James have to die? Sirius
would much rather it had been himself. James had a family, a future, and Sirius had no one to depend on him, nothing to look forward to. He
stood up slowly, he was almost reluctant to leave because he knew that once he did, he could never return. His life would never be the same.
The days of pranks and laughter were gone and all that laid ahead was sorrow. He felt a huge surge of hatred flow through him. Why had
he trusted Peter? Why had Peter betrayed his best and only friends? Why? Of course Sirius already knew the answer-Voldemort. Peter was
weak and dependant. If someone approached him with an offer of protection and safety, he would take it without a thought. Why couldn't he,
Sirius, have seen that before? In his anger he kicked at a chared board lying on the ground.
Something had been lying underneath it. Sirius bent down and picked it up. It was a picture. As he wiped away the ash he found that it was
slightly burned, but besides that there was no major damage. It was a picture of Lily, James, and Harry. Harry was levitating on a small
broomstick that James had gotten him for his first birthday, and James was standing beside him, trying to show Harry the correct way to hold
the handle. Lily was sitting on the grass, her head thrown back in laughter. Sirius could remember taking this picture himself, a little more than
three months ago. He could still hear James voice as he tried unsucessfully to teach his son how to stay on the broomstick, and the sound of
Lily laughing at her desperate husband and bewildered son. Sirius carefullly wiped away the blurry spots on the picture caused by his own
tears. Suddenly he remembered something that James had told him many years before during their first year at Hogwarts. Sirius had just skinned
his knee rather badly after falling of his broom while playing Quidditch. "Oh come on Sirius, don't cry, crying doesn't get you anywhere.
Besides, it will all be okay after a while." His friend had tried to reassure him. Sirius knew that it would not all be okay after a while, but he could
no longer stand around mourning. He had a job to do. He smiled sadly as he wiped away his tears, and blinked away the ones that were
threatening to fall. He put the burnt photograph in the back pocket of his jeans.
He knew what he had would do now. He would find Peter, and he would kill him. Now that he no longer needed to take care of Harry, he had to
get revenge on the rat who had ruined the infants life. He had nothing left to go back to now, anyway. He knew Remus would always be there
for him, but Remus always took the logical way of thinking. He would think revenge an irrational and pointless endeavor. Sirius clenched his
teeth in determination and walked back onto the quiet street. He stood and looked for the last time on the scene he knew would haunt his
nightmares forever. After a few mintues he turned his head upward and gazed at the sparkling stars as he pulled out his wand and apparated
away, leaving only the crickets, chirping contentedly, on the silent, deserted street.
****************************
A/N: I've always wondered about what it must have been like for Sirius when he found out about the Potters being dead, and I just thought this
story up while lying in bed not able to go to sleep a few days ago. So please review and tell me what you think about it. Thanks!
~*Katydid*~
P.S. Please R & R my other stories, too!
*********************
"Darkness seems to be the only company I ever have." Thought Sirius Black with a sigh as he lay on the hard, dirt floor af an old abandoned
cabin. But it wasn't because of the darkness, or even the rock hard floor that he couldn't sleep. For 15 years all he had known was darkness and
hard floors, they certainly didn't bother him now. He felt something, a vague unrestlessness, that wouldn't allow him to sleep. His sigh echoed
again through the empty cabin as he stood up and walked slowly to the window. He pushed aside the towel curtain that he had put up himself,
and looked out into the pitch black night. It was a full moon. His thoughts strayed to Remus, and he wished more than anything that he could
be with his friend now. That they could share another night of laughter and adventure like they had all those years before.
He let the towel fall back into place and walked to the other side of the room, where he kept his few possesions. There was a stick on which he
marked the days as they passed, a few hard biscuits, and a picture. It was faded and dirty, and the edges were chared slightly as if it had
been in a fire. He ran a caloused and dirty finger along the face of a young boy, no more than two years old. This was all he had left of his past,
all he had left to remind him that those awful memories were not just nightmares, as he so often wished to believe. He laid the picture aside and
picked up the notched stick. He counted the marks and then added one at the end. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat as he realized
what day it was. It was October 31st. It had happened sixteen years ago today. He sat down on the floor and leaned his back against the wall,
his eyes closed and his knees pulled up agains his chest. How did this happen to him, Sirius Black? Twenty years ago he had been a
fun-loving, easy-going prankster, famous all over Hogwarts for his hilarious jokes and, as the girls put it, "His dashing smile." And now, here
he was, an escaped convict hiding out in a deserted cabin. Alone. It seemed as if he had always been alone. He could vaguely remember times
when he had been surround by friends, but now those memories seemed barely more than whispers of a dream. He took himself back in his
memory, back to that horrible night sixteen years ago, the night that his life changed forever.
******************
Sirius Black sat on his couch, the same place he had been sitting for the last hour, his eyes glued to the clock above the fire place, his feet
taping nervously on the hard wood floor. When it ticked onto eleven o' clock he jumped up like a spring and practically ran out of the front
door. He grabbed his motorcycle from where it was leaning against the garage, leaped on top of it, and started it up. Many thoughts ran through
his head as he flew through the black sky, none of them reassuring. He reached his destination, which was a lonely house sitting by itself in the
country. As soon as he landed he started running toward the door of the house. He knocked several times on the door, but no one answered.
Something was definitly wrong, and it wasn't just his imagination this time. He turned the door knob slowly, and to his surprise the door
opened. It wasn't locked. It should have been locked. Trying to push away the panic that was making his heart beat much faster than usual, he
stepped inside. Silence. "Peter!" He called. "Peter, it's Sirius!" No one answered. Sirius searched the whole house, but no one was there, and
there was no sign of a struggle. A strangled sound escaped his throat as he realized what must have happened. He turned and ran back outside,
vaulted onto his motercycle and before he was even on it properly he was already speeding away from the house. He didn't even know his
bike was capable of going this fast.
As he turned around the last tree and drew close to the peaceful hollow, a horrible sight met his eyes. In the middle of the row of houses, where
once stood a house like all the others, was a huge pile of rubble, still smoking and burning in places. Sirius leaped off his his bike and left it to
fall to the ground. He ran toward the scene, irrationaly hoping that once the smoke cleared away instead of a pile of ash lying there, there would
be a house. He stopped at the edge of the destruction, staring in disbelief and shock at what he saw. Only yesterday a friendly, welcoming
house had stood here. It was the kind of home where you felt you could just walk into, even if you were a stranger, and be welcome as if you
were family. Lily had taken months to plant rose bushes around the entire house, now not a single one remained. Sirius felt hot tears falling
down his cheeks, but made no effort to wipe them away. What did it matter if he cried, The three people who had meant more to him than
anything, were gone. Gone. Suddenly he realized with a shock that it was his fault that they were gone. He was the one who persuaded James
into using Peter as their secret keeper. If Sirius hadn't done that, the Potter's would still be here. He felt as if he could have killed himself then
and there, but didn't for one reason, and one reason only. Peter. Peter had betrayed them. It might have been partly Sirius's fault, but Peter had
intentionally betrayed them. After all that they had done for him. They had been Peter's family because he had none of his own, they had
helped him when he was helpless, and encouraged him when he needed encouragement . And after all that, the little rat killed them. Sirius
clenched his teeth in anger. He would kill the traitor even if he himself had to die in the process.
Suddenly the quiet stillness of the scene was broken by a soft wail. Sirius's head snapped up as he heard it again. It was a baby crying.
Suddenly he realized something that he had been too distracted to notice before. There was no Dark Mark hanging above the dreary scene,
and there should have been. In Sirius's mind this could mean only one thing. Harry was still alive. Sirius had no idea how this could be possible,
but he allowed himself to hope that it was.
He pushed his way through the ash and debris until he came to Lily's body. She was lying still and seemingly unharmed, and a stranger might
have mistaken her for merely sleeping. But the usual glow was gone from her once rosy cheeks, and the sparkle was absent from her bright
green eyes. Sirius kneeled down and carefully closed her eyelids. Then he stood and looked around him. Not a foot from Lily he saw a small
bundle, it was wiggling. He walked causiously toward it, a little apprehensive of what he might find hidden in it. He bent down and slowly
pulled away the blanket. It was Harry. There was no mistaking those brilliant emerald eyes and the jet black hair. Sirius smiled sadly at the
infant boy. "Hello, Harry. What are you doing here?" He whispered softly as he picked the child up and cradled him in his arms. The boy had a
huge, gaping gash across his forehead, and it was bleeding profusely. Sirius tried to wipe some of the blood away with the hem of his robes,
but it did very little good.
He knew now that he couldn't go after Peter. As Harry's Godfather it was his duty to take care of him. But the thought was not a displeasing
one. Sirius had never had much of a family, and now he had someone very like a son. He wrapped the small blanket tighter around the crying
baby and walked slowly towards his motorcycle. Suddenly he heard something behind him. He whirled around, ready to run with Harry if
necessary. But the person standing there wasn't who he thought it might have been. It was Hagrid, the Hogwarts game keeper, and he was
bawling like a mad-man. Sirius stood in stuned silence. What was the Hogwarts game keeper doing here? The huge man finnaly slowed his
crying long enough to talk. "Lo, Sirius." He sniffed. "ThetHarry you got there?" Sirius nodded, he wasn't sure if he trusted his own throat
enough to talk. Hagrid stepped up besides Sirius. "Cute little bugger, ain't he?" He asked as he started bawling again. Sirius nodded yet again.
"Listen Sirius, I know ye're his Godfather en all, but I have strict orders from Dumbldore hisself that I'm to take Harry with me." Sirius stared at
Hagrid in numb shock. "But, you can't take him away! Please, Hagrid, he's all I have left." He whispered desperatly. Hagrid wiped his nose
rather noisily on a huge handkercheif. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I have ter obey Dumbledore, I'm sure it's all fer the best." He really looked
sorry, too. Sirius knew Hagrid was right, and as he thought about it he realized he had no idea where to even start with raising a child. He bite
his lip as he looked into those familiar green eyes. Just like Lily's. "Good bye, Harry." He whispered as he handed the small bundle to Hagrid.
Hagrid nodded, the tears still streaming down his huge bushy beard. "Here, take my motorcycle, it will get you there much quicker than a
broom." Sirius offered as Hagrid was about to climb onto an old worn out school broom. Hagrid sniffed and climbed onto the motorcycle. He
looked up into Sirius eyes, eyes so desolate and devoid of hope. "It'll all work out al'ight in the end." Hagrid muttered, trying to give the man
something to cling to. Sirius nodded, but Hagrid could tell that he didn't beleive what he had said. But he couldn't delay any longer, so he
started up the bike and went on his way.
Sirius watched him till he was out of sight, and even then he couldn't make himself look away. Harry had been all that he had left, and now he
was gone, too. He turned around and walked slowly back toward the rubble. He had to say good bye to James. He couldn't hold the tears in any
longer as he knelt down by the body of his best friend, who was still holding has wand tightly in his hand. Why did James have to die? Sirius
would much rather it had been himself. James had a family, a future, and Sirius had no one to depend on him, nothing to look forward to. He
stood up slowly, he was almost reluctant to leave because he knew that once he did, he could never return. His life would never be the same.
The days of pranks and laughter were gone and all that laid ahead was sorrow. He felt a huge surge of hatred flow through him. Why had
he trusted Peter? Why had Peter betrayed his best and only friends? Why? Of course Sirius already knew the answer-Voldemort. Peter was
weak and dependant. If someone approached him with an offer of protection and safety, he would take it without a thought. Why couldn't he,
Sirius, have seen that before? In his anger he kicked at a chared board lying on the ground.
Something had been lying underneath it. Sirius bent down and picked it up. It was a picture. As he wiped away the ash he found that it was
slightly burned, but besides that there was no major damage. It was a picture of Lily, James, and Harry. Harry was levitating on a small
broomstick that James had gotten him for his first birthday, and James was standing beside him, trying to show Harry the correct way to hold
the handle. Lily was sitting on the grass, her head thrown back in laughter. Sirius could remember taking this picture himself, a little more than
three months ago. He could still hear James voice as he tried unsucessfully to teach his son how to stay on the broomstick, and the sound of
Lily laughing at her desperate husband and bewildered son. Sirius carefullly wiped away the blurry spots on the picture caused by his own
tears. Suddenly he remembered something that James had told him many years before during their first year at Hogwarts. Sirius had just skinned
his knee rather badly after falling of his broom while playing Quidditch. "Oh come on Sirius, don't cry, crying doesn't get you anywhere.
Besides, it will all be okay after a while." His friend had tried to reassure him. Sirius knew that it would not all be okay after a while, but he could
no longer stand around mourning. He had a job to do. He smiled sadly as he wiped away his tears, and blinked away the ones that were
threatening to fall. He put the burnt photograph in the back pocket of his jeans.
He knew what he had would do now. He would find Peter, and he would kill him. Now that he no longer needed to take care of Harry, he had to
get revenge on the rat who had ruined the infants life. He had nothing left to go back to now, anyway. He knew Remus would always be there
for him, but Remus always took the logical way of thinking. He would think revenge an irrational and pointless endeavor. Sirius clenched his
teeth in determination and walked back onto the quiet street. He stood and looked for the last time on the scene he knew would haunt his
nightmares forever. After a few mintues he turned his head upward and gazed at the sparkling stars as he pulled out his wand and apparated
away, leaving only the crickets, chirping contentedly, on the silent, deserted street.
****************************
A/N: I've always wondered about what it must have been like for Sirius when he found out about the Potters being dead, and I just thought this
story up while lying in bed not able to go to sleep a few days ago. So please review and tell me what you think about it. Thanks!
~*Katydid*~
P.S. Please R & R my other stories, too!