Hi! I wrote this story a couple of years ago and I just now found it.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, etc. you know the deal.
The Last Protector, by Ice
Godric's Hollow, 1981
Padfoot's stomach turned over as the acrid, unmistakable scent of smoke reached him. It urged him on, a nasty voice in his head saying, You're too late now…Then he saw the smoke.
He screeched to a halt as he reached the house. A pair of glasses, mangled and broken, lay on the path in front of him. Their owner lay nearby, spread-eagled and obviously dead. His messy black hair was covered with the ashes of his burning cottage.
A howl of misery rose in Padfoot's throat. Not Prongs…
To Padfoot, it was all his fault. I told them to make Wormtail their Secret-Keeper; I'm the one who deserves to be dead…
Padfoot bounded over to his old friend's body, his paws scraping against the splintered rubble that covered the ground. Padfoot nudged James' arm, half-expecting him to wake up and grin, to tell Padfoot that it was all a joke, all a horribly bad prank…
A small whimper brought Padfoot out of his mourning. He followed the sound to the center of the rubble, where Harry Potter's nursery had once been. Lily Potter lay there, her face still wet with tears, one arm still cradling Harry.
She must have died defending him, Padfoot thought sadly.
But Harry wasn't dead. He lay there whimpering, with a slash of a scar on his forehead and obviously alive.
Padfoot sat still for a moment, slowing realizing what Harry was saying…
"Ma, Ma, MA!"
Padfoot gave a low, soft whine of hurt, then bounded over to his godson and nudged him gently. Harry turned his head and looked at Padfoot with brilliant, tear-filled green eyes.
"Pafoo?"
Padfoot hesitated, then turned back into Sirius. He wouldn't be much use as a dog.
"Pafoo?"
"I'm here, Harry." Sirius picked Harry up, brushing dirt, tears and ashes off of Harry's face.
For a moment the reality of the situation overwhelmed Sirius. Just before he lost himself in misery, he said firmly to himself, It doesn't matter right now. Harry needs me.
Sirius looked at the rubble, then held Harry tighter. Even if the Ministry thinks that I was the Potter's Secret-Keeper, I'll be able to make everything right. I have to, for Harry's sake.
Sirius spoke softly to Harry, who was already drifting off to sleep, comforted by his final protector's presence:
"It'll be okay. I swear, no matter what happens, I'll do anything to make it okay."
Read It. Review It.
-Icey