Disclaimer: all names and affiliations with Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling and all publishers. No money is being made off of this story; it is for my personal pleasure only! Happy Reading!
Summary: Sirius Black beat Hagrid to the scene of the Potters' murder, and took his godson before consulting anyone. Sirius, knowing he was being hunted by the Britain Wizarding World, took Harry to America, changing names and identities to keep his godson safe.
In Hiding
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Halloween, 1981
Young Sirius Black was worried. Peter was not at home, and as the Potters' secret-keeper, he was supposed to be hiding. No, Peter was not home, and gut instinct told the Marauder that something was defiantly wrong.
After thoroughly searching Peter Pettigrew's house, and finding nothing out of place, except the fact that Peter was not there, Sirius began to get very worried, and immediately got onto his magical motorbike and revved it, flying high into the sky towards his best friends' house. Something told him that things were defiantly wrong.
Sirius flew out of the clouds over Godric's Hollow expecting to see the quiet street devoid of life at almost midnight, the muggle streetlamps giving off a whimsical glow as they always did, perhaps a few late-night trick-or-treaters out for fun. The last thing he expected to see was the house of his loved ones in smoldering ruins. He nearly fell off of his motorcycle in shock, and barely made it to the ground. He stumbled off, not caring that his once prized possession crashed to the asphalt behind him. He stared at the house that he had come to know as his second home, and something in his mind screamed his best friends' names. James and Lily.
"James!" he cried into the night, slowly making his way between the ruins to where the house once stood. He could see parts of the wall, two or three feet high, nowhere hear where they had stood when the old Tudor home had stood tall and proud on its' street. Sirius tried to shout their names over and over, hoping against hope that someone would answer, or that he could wake from this nightmare.
"JAMES! LILY!"
The night gave him no answers, and he continued on his trek to the house. After what felt like eternities, he was finally standing in what he realized what had been the living room. The part of Sirius' mind that had gone fuzzy and muddled knew that he had stood in this very spot a few weeks earlier, preparing for Lily's birthday party. He had flooed into and out that fireplace right there so many times he had lost count at around five hundred and fifty-two.
The rest of his mind was jarred into painful reality, as he grasped that what he had thought was the remains of a couch, was actually his best friend, covered in soot and dust,
Sirius rushed to his side, knowing it was futile, but performing the check of pulse and breathing anyway. As he knew he would find, James was dead, and it was then Sirius first heard the sounds of wailing muggle sirens from far away.
Damn them, he thought frustrated. He needed to search for any sign of Lily, no matter how much he didn't want to see her like James. He reached down to his friend's eyes, which were open, seething with hatred even in death, and closed them gently. He didn't want anyone to find him like that.
He made his way to what had been the hallway, and into the old nursery. There she was, as Sirius had expected. Lying on her side, a look of pained and terrible sadness on her face. She did not have her eyes open, but her hands were behind her back, and Sirius, tears now streaming down his face, went to lay her in an appropriate position. When he got closer, able to see her clearly, he peered. It looked at if she had been protecting something behind her. Sirius wondered for a moment, then, with a horrible realization, his mind produced him with the name of his Godson, Harry James Potter.
Oh no, his mind, stressed to the end of it's limits, screamed. Beyond all else, he did not want to see his one-year-old godson like his parents, a dead lifeless body in the rubble. Sirius almost didn't go any closer to Lily, afraid of seeing a child in that state. But he had to continue. He owed it to these three. It was his fault, after all, that they were dead. He owed them at least that.
His mind half-numbed with pain and guilt, he quickly closed the gap between himself and the body of his best friend's wife. He crouched, leaning on the balls of his feet, and gingerly reached out to touch her, move her body to the ground, so she wasn't in that awful looking position. When he moved her, and laid her down to the floor, he gasped, and almost dropped the body, at the sight of what she had been protecting between herself and the crib.
Laying Lily down, not looking at her, he stared at the baby boy sitting calmly underneath his crib, staring, wide-eyed, and most obviously alive, at the man in front of him and the body of his mother. The baby, a toddler almost, sat mutely, the only sign of life were his large emerald eyes, following Sirius around with bewildering clarity that gave him the chills.
Sirius stepped over the boy's mother, and kneeled down in front of Harry. The baby looked at him, and after a moment, recognized the wizard who visited him often, and taught him funny things to tell his mother. He broke into a wide grin, but still made no sound.
Sirius was glad he showed at least that much. The child unnerved him, with those large emerald eyes that watched him consistently.
"Harry?" Sirius asked, after a moment of neither speaking. The baby Harry nodded, and stood for the first time that night, and toddled toward his godfather. Sirius was relieved, and broke into a wide grin. He scooped the child into his arms, and held him close, not letting him see the wreckage that had been his house.
"Shhh… There, there Harry," Sirius cooed at the child, who was starting to worry him with his lack of vocal communication. Harry had not uttered a single sound in the whole time that Sirius had been here.
With that thought, Sirius' senses came rushing back to him. He could smell the acrid smoke from the ruins of the house, and the sirens of the muggle firetrunks or whatever they were called could be heard with clarity now. He had to get him and his godson out of here, before he was found. Now that Peter had betrayed his friends, Sirius would be convicted, he knew. James and Lily had been careful, telling only a select few about the original protection, and no one about the last minute switch from Sirius himself to Peter, who had been the traitor from the start.
Sirius, stepping out of the house and moving quickly to his motorbike, let out a growl of disgust at the thought of Peter. He had betrayed his best friends to the Dark Lord. Sirius's first thought was that Peter needed to pay, and pay hard. But as the baby in his arms struggled at the tension in his holder, Sirius knew that his first and foremost priority was Harry. He had told Lily and James that no matter what happened, if something went wrong, Sirius would be there for Harry. Sirius had given them his word, and had no intention whatsoever at betraying that trust as Peter had.
He climbed quickly on his motorcycle, revving the engine, and giving the baby in his arms a final comforting pat on the head, he flew into the night, turning his back on the Wizarding world for the child in his arms, now falling fast asleep.
Sirius allowed himself only one look back at the house that had once held so much happiness, now sadly the pitiful reminder of the chaos that was the world today.
"Goodbye James, Lily. I promise I'll try my best to take care of him," he told his friends, before turning back, settling the babe into the crook of his right arm, and flying with his left.
"I will take care of you Harry," he promised the sleeping boy himself. "I will," he muttered into the silent night.
He did not expect and answer, nor did he receive one. He flew for many hours, knowing that behind him, the world would be searching for him, any mention of his name. At the same time, cowering at the newest attack form a powerful Dark Wizard gaining power in the Britain Wizarding community. Knowing that he could never go back, and would be hunted, living in fear until they caught him.
He didn't care.
He did all this for the child in his arms at the moment. He did it all for the baby that he had given his word to take care of. He would never break his word. Never again, because now he knew what it would bring.
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"Dumbledore!"
A man, tattered and dirt stained robes flittering behind him, burst into the Great Hall of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, intent on the man at the center of the High Table. Hundreds of students and teachers quieted suddenly, gazing at the interruption in the early morning schedule.
"Dumbledore," he croaked again, his filthy russet hair falling into his face. He made no move to fix, it. He didn't seen to care, or even acknowledge, his haphazard appearance. His eyes were red and partially swollen, as if the man had been crying for hours.
The old wizard at the head of the Staff Table looked grave. The whole student body, and some of the staff at the High Table, forgetting their cooling breakfasts, starred at the man shamelessly.
Their attentions wavered, however, when the headmaster, not taking his eyes off the strange visitor, gracefully got up from his seat and headed towards the man in the shabby wizards' robes. When he reached him, to the great astonishment of everyone in the Hall, he enveloped the smaller man in a hug. The man in question sagged against him, and tears could be seen leaking from his eyes.
"Come, Remus," a few students nearby heard their headmaster murmur.
As the pair left the Great Hall swiftly, even less heard the other man cry below his silent sobs, "James and Lily…"
"James and Lily, Dumbledore." Remus moaned again. He sat in the Headmasters office; his head in his hands, silent sobs still racking his body.
"Let us not forget little Harry," the headmaster gently reminded the man in front of him. "We have no idea what happened to the boy." Dumbledore seemed to be musing to himself more than talking to Remus Lupin in front of him.
"What do we need to figure out?" Remus wailed. "His parents are dead, (a sob escaped his lips at the words) and he wasn't found at the scene of the crime. He's, (sob) most likely (sob) dead," he whispered the last word, as his he still hoped against hope that a boy of one year could survive the Dark Lord at his height of power.
"But the Dark Lord is gone," was the calm reply from the other side of the desk.
Remus only gawked at him. "what… what do you mean, 'gone'?" he croaked out finally.
"My spies and tracers all point out quite plainly that Voldemort, (Remus shuddered slightly) is simply gone. He cannot be found. It is most peculiar." The old man's eyes held a faint twinkle, but it was shadowed by the matters at hand.
Remus looked very much like a fish out of water. When he was finally able to regain his vocal abilities, he stuttered.
"How… why? How?" Coherent sentences seemed to be above him at the moment.
"We do not know," Dumbledore answered, knowing well the question.
"Than what do you think happened to Harry?" Remus finally choked out.
The light in the wizard's eyes dimmed again.
"I have not the faintest clue. He was not found with his parents, so the possibility that he is alive is not yet gone. But we have no idea what happened to him after the attack." The headmaster stood up from his chair and walked slowly around to his desk to look at the werewolf in front of him. "And as to the matter with Sirius, I am afraid that we were all gravely mistaken. The only important thing is to make sure that you, Remus, do not feel guilty about this."
Remus shuddered, and looked away from his old teacher's face. "Sirius betrayed us all," he said monotonously.
Dumbledore sighed.
Nothing was said between them for a time.
"We should begin a task force of trying to locate Harry," Remus said quietly, after a few minutes. "It is what James and Lily would have wanted. We need to talk to Peter; I don't know if he's heard yet. He hasn't contacted me, at least. But Harry, Harry is what is important now."
Finished speaking, he stood up from the chair in front of his friend and confidant, and left.
Dumbledore remained only a few moments longer, his piercing blue eyes calculating something, trying to guess at some puzzle or another. When it looked as if he had figured it all out, he left his office, and hurried out of the castle without a backwards glance.
They needed to find Harry.
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A/N: well, um, please review. Because it makes me feel special, and I need some help in later chappies! Give suggestions! TY!