I'll Try

My whole world is changing

I don't know where to turn

I can't leave you waiting

But I can't stay and watch the city burn

Watch it burn

– I'll Try, Jonatha Brooke

Sirius was in Mrs. Black's bedroom feeding Buckbeak. He spent hours, grooming, feeding, and generally taking care of the hippogriff. In fact, Sirius was quite sure he spent more time in his mother's room now, than he ever had when the horrible woman was alive, but that was because the hippogriff was his only friend in the godforsaken house.

Expect for Remus, but he was almost always away, trying to the gauge the allegiance of his fellow werewolves and convincing them to come over to the Order's side when he could.

There was Tonks, was she was seldom around, especially now that Dumbledore had commissioned she and Kingsley to make contacts within the Auror office.

There was always Harry.

Much to his chagrin, selfish melancholy had caused the animagus to spend an appallingly short amount of time with his godson over the summer. Circumstances notwithstanding, Sirius had been hoping to use the extra few days to make up for it, but he hadn't seen hide or hair of the teen since the Hogwarts contingent Flooed to Grimmauld Place the night before.

As if thinking of Harry, had prompted it, Sirius suddenly heard a distinct thunking sound coming from the room his godson shared with Ron. Ordinarily, he would just assume that the twins were deviling their youngest brother and his friend, but the entire Weasley clan was at St. Mungo's visiting the convalescing patriarch. That left only one source for the noise.

"I'll be right back, Beaky," Sirius promised, and took his leave for the room down the hallway.

Sirius, leaned against the doorframe, and emitted colorful puffs of smoke from his wand. Although Harry didn't look up, the furrowing of his bent brow was accentuated in the flashing light.

"What the heck are you doing, Sirius?"

"Mr. Padfoot merely wished to make a similar inquiry, my dear Mr. Prongslet," Sirius replied, hoping the use of the humorously formal Marauder language would lighten Harry's mood a bit. "However, Mr. Moony –bastion of manners that he is – frowns upon entering a room without first announcing one's presence."

"And you couldn't do something less obnoxious? Like, I don't know… knocking, maybe?" As he spoke, Harry's breath fluttered the fringe on his forward, tickling his scar. He swiped at the offending hair impatiently, missing the look of hurt that ghosted across Sirius's face,

"This isn't obnoxious. Your parents, Moony, and I used to do this all the time for you when you were a baby. For hours on end, mind you. We would get tired of the game before you did. Clearly you're not amused anymore."

Harry didn't bother to answer. Instead, he threw another trainer at the wall.

"Harry? Hey, I'm trying to talk to you. What's going on here?" As he walked farther into the boys' room, Sirius noticed that Harry was not throwing things at the wall, but rather magicking books and quills into his trunk. It was already halfway full. Sirius watched wordlessly as a balled up pair of socks joined the untidy mulch. Finally, he regained his voice.

"You're packing?"

"Yup," Harry deadpanned, not meeting his godfather's eye.

"Harry, will you please look at me?"

To facilitate this request, Sirius grabbed Ron's vacated bed and dragged it across the room, so that it was next to Harry's. The furniture screeched in protest, and the resulting racket was the last straw for the portrait of Walburga Black. Her shrieks could be heard as though she were in the same room and not several floors below.

"MONGRELS AND MUDBLOODS! TRAITORS AND FILTH! YOU DISHONOR THE ANCESTRAL HOME OF BLACK! SHAME ON YOU! SHAME!"

"Excuse me," said Sirius casually. He crossed the room and with a final "Can it, you bloody harpy!" slammed the door, so that his mother's continued diatribe was muffled.

"That's better, isn't it?" he inquired, plopping back down.

"I guess."

"Ah, excellent, two syllables. Now for my next trick I'm going to try and get a full sentence out of you." Sirius gently lifted his godson's chin, so that green eyes had no choice but to meet grey. "Bit early to be repacking your school truck, huh? With magic, no less. Not that I care, and not that incurring the wrath of Molly isn't a good show, but I think I've done it enough for the both of us, don't you?"

Harry shrugged. "That doesn't matter. I'm not going back to school."

Sirius cocked one eyebrow in a very Lupin-like way. "Really now? What's going on in that head of yours, pup? Talk to me."

"It's terrible, Sirius. Half the people in the school think I'm lying, and the other half are positive that I've gone round the twist. Supposedly, Dumbledore and I are the reason my dorm mate Seamus almost didn't come back to Hogwarts. Ron can't even look at me, not that I blame him. This way he won't have to. None of them will."

Sirius had been silent for a while, but when Harry finished, he sighed. "I think this is partially my fault. I did too good a job of glamorizing the whole maverick things. Well, let me clear things up: caves and rats aren't all they're cracked up to be. Especially rats." He winked dryly, bitterly.

:"You're yanking my wand, Sirius," Harry grumbled.

"Moi, yanking your wand? Why would I do that, my dear godson?"

"Because you acting like an arse," Harry suggested.

"That didn't even hurt." That part was a lie, course. Even though Sirius knew Harry didn't mean what he was saying it still hurt. A lot. "And anyway, that's not it. Try again. Why?"

"Why are you acting like an arse? I have no idea, Sirius, but you might want to ask yourself that question."

That surprised a laugh out of the ex-convict. "There's the Evans wit I've missed so much. You do know why, though. Just think, Harry."

Harry gave a huff of exasperation. "Okay, so maybe I do know why, but I here to tell you it's not going to work. Convincing me to stay is not as simple as making me laugh!"

"I've noticed that. That wasn't my best material, but it's at least worth a smile."

"Disappointed you once again, have I?" Harry blurted. "Well, I suppose that's to be expected, considering I'm not the carbon copy of Dad you want me to be!"

Sirius was taking aback. "What are you talk…oh Merlin. This really is my fault, isn't it? I never should have said that to you! Never! I didn't mean it, and…I've regretted it ever since that night, when you looked at me as if I could have slapped you and it would have hurt less. As soon as the words came out of my mouth I wanted to take them back, but I was too ashamed to face you. Instead, I told Moony and he pretty much skinned me alive."

"You can't take something like that back, Sirius," said Harry quietly, all the fight drained out of him at his godfather's obvious feelings of guilt.

"Jusqu'à la fin du temps." Sirius whispered.

"What does that mean?"

"Harry, my pup… I should have told you this when we first met, but it kept sounding like one of those cheesy singing greeting cards. Honestly, I thought it went without saying, my being your godfather and all. Harry, you have to know this. You have to know that no matter what either of us says or does, and no matter what happens in the future, that I'll be there for you until the end of time."

"You're right, that does sound a little bit like a greeting card," Harry agreed, "besides, the end of time might come sooner than we think. If Voldemort has his way, the sky will probably fall tomorrow."

"And this," said Sirius sadly, "is why war is such an awful thing. It makes people jaded, especially young people, who don't need this weight on their shoulders. Prongslet, you're fifteen, the only things you should be worried about are pranks, and girls, and Quidditch. Maybe the sky is falling, but I would hold it up with my own hands if I thought that's what it would take to make you see that you aren't alone in this screwed up world. For starters, I think I should have words with this Seamus bloke."

"You don't have to do that, Sirius! Do you want to get locked back up in Azkaban?"

"Okay, okay. I can tell that you're used to taking care of yourself, and you've done beautifully. However, Moony and I are here now and we'd like to take some of the burden off of you, if you'll let us. Moony is very good at taking care of people, and I'm sure I'd be decent at it too, now that I'm through putting my wand in my mouth."

Harry smiled. "I'll try,"

Sirius gathered him into a hug, before breaking away abruptly. "Harry."

"Yeah, what is it?" Harry asked, startled by the sudden change of tone.

"Why are there words on the back of your hand?"

Harry gulped.

That's it. This is intended to be a one-shot, but left the door open for anyone who wants to write a sequel/companion piece where in Sirius finds out about the detentions. Also, I'm now beta for an amazing author named Arya Lupin, collaborating on her Marauder-era story entitled Operation Get My Lily. Check it out!