Title: Walking Alone

Disclaimer: I only own the plot, the characters are all owned by the famous J.K.Rowling. 18 days till the Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

Author's Notes: I have no idea what is going though me, but I swear, I am typing up chapter six for 'Just Maybe' I swear, I am. Check out my live journal under 'Homepage'. It explains a lot of things.

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The mirror in front of him was exactly what he wanted to see. The gray eyes stared back at him, lines that weren't there before were alight. Well, it was to be expected, he was only twenty-one, but he had grown up to be nearly over a hundred.

His dark black hair had twisted and fell in an elegant way in front of his eyes, he kept having to swiping it a way. He felt like a bloody girl who need who needed bobby pins in her hair.

But he wasn't going to ponder on this thought for long; he had plans, which would be even dangerous to be late. Five minutes late, and he could have people on him as if he was on the 'Lost Children' posters.

Sighing, and grabbing the keys off the table and heading out of the apartment. As soon as he heard the satisfying 'tick' of the door locking, the locking spells that were taking place. Smiling to himself he bolted down the stairs.

Swinging open the door, and going over one of his most prized possessions. A gleaming red motorcycle was standing up. It was clean, shiny, and not a single damage was upon it. But it was no ordinary motorcycle. It was beyond the average motorcycle, average motorcycles could get a scratch, and in a few years it would be crashed. But his, no damage can come upon him and no way could he crash it, and it could fly.

Feeling the strong radars of the motorcycle that wanted to be flown. He grinned and hoped onto it. Sticking in the keys, turning the engine on, and feeling the powerful roar that lit up the night. Grinning to himself, he rode into the night.

After looking back and around, seeing that none of the gossiping neighbors were awake. They were always the boring type, the type that only lived through the shames of others. Pressing a button on the bike, he felt it go up in the air. Higher and higher it went.

Feeling alive again, feeling as if nothing could go wrong. What could? He was just out visiting a friend, the troubles with the war was at the back of his head. It was in the back of his head were he had locked it up in the bulging closet that was about to burst. Let it burst he thought let it burst. Let's see what would happen.

It didn't burst.

Looking down, seeing the small town of the unsuspecting sleepers below. Diving down, feeling as if back in Hogwarts. The Quidditch match, god how he missed it, the rushing of air and the tensions between the house teams, and of course, getting into fights over the game. He missed Hogwarts, four years ago; he came out of school as a schoolboy still. Excited and finally independent. Finally being able to roam around without a leash attached onto him. Now, he wanted to be that schoolboy again, to be safe. He may still be on the leash, but he would be safe.

Now, he was never safe-no one was. Everyone was scared, everyone was nervous about going home. Seeing the damage that could be made on their homes, seeing the headlines in the Daily Prophet. Well who wouldn't be scared?

Reaching the ground, and stopping the roar of the bike. Shame it wasn't a longer ride, but now was not the time to extend playing time. Getting off the bike, and walking up to the darken house. It was large, but Peter was the type to have a large house. It was cozy, but too big for him. It was even a bit too small for any real emotions to run about.

Knocking on the door, "Peter, it's me, Sirius," He said through the door. Hoping that Peter was there. Stepping back, and looking down at the watch, he was right on time. Not a second early or later. Any minute any second, Peter would come down.

But a minute turned into five minutes. Getting frustrated, he walked to the door, "Peter! It's me! Sirius!" He said as he turned the knob, to his shock the door opened up.

Feeling his stomach drop, he walked into the house no force was here. No one was here, no note, no nothing. It's as if Peter had walked of the house, as if going to the park.

"No" Sirius said in a hallow whisper, his blood turning utter ice. His heart stopping, running around the house No one or a thing wasn't there. It was as if Peter moved out. Expecting the worst, he dashed out of the house. Towards his bike he jumped on and forced the keys in, he was shaking so badly and had no time to enjoy the roar of the bike.

Flying off into the air, with out looking around for the boring people. The ride seemed to take forever; his heart was thumping a thousand miles a minute. His mind was racing with a thousand things that Peter was doing. Anything, he couldn't face the facts.

It couldn't be, but it made utter sense. They were warned that there was a spy on their side. He knew that people suspected him. Only one person didn't think it was him. James, James knew that he would rather die then betray any of them. He would rather die then join forces to were his little brother was. He would rather die then see the horror on Lily's face, seeing the scared look on her.

He had suspected Remus. Remus barely could make a living, just because he was a werewolf. Just because of a bite he got at a young age. Each month, he turned into this mutated monster. The pain he had to go through, the lies he had to make. He never could find a job, people were racist to him.

Joining up with the Dark Lord had many possibilities. Voldemort was powerful, extremely powerful. There was no point trying to hide it. No point at all, people said that he was cowardly. Sirius snorted when people said that, a coward? Yes, maybe but how could someone so powerful be such a coward? This equation never settled well with him, people might have thought that he admired Him.

Admire him for what? For killing his friends? For killing innocent lives that just married and had muggle born children? For having muggle parents? Was that something to be admired? Was that such a large honor? Was that such an award? Something to be proud of? Was it?

Finally seeing the small village that James and Lily lived on. He dove down and landed hard on the cement. Leaving the bike to fall he dashed down the street. His wand in his hand, feet stomping against the street, trying to expect the unexpected.

Turning down the street, his arm dropped and his eyes went wide. The house that he knew so well was in ruins, well almost. Rushing down the street feeling the dread spilling down in inside. Coming upon the front door that was damaged and onto the ground. Walking in feeling tears collect him. If they were dead, if all of them were dead, he would blame him self forever. He will always live in the guilt. It would be his fault.

"LILY! JAMES!" He cried out desperately. Walking into what used to be the fine living room. Walking around before he heard a snap. Looking down, he felt his throat closed up.

It was James' wand, it was already broken, but his foot just broke the wand into smaller pieces. His eyes traveling from the wand to the hand, to the hand to the arm, and finally onto the face. His throat closed up, his heart stopped, and his guts were twisting and withering in guilt and grief.

It was James, his hazel eyes wide. His glasses were cracked, the jet-black hair was messy, but not in the way that James had done it in. A small trail of blood was flowing down his face and onto the cream colored carpet that was spotted with red. Feeling panic, trying to see if his chest rose or fall at all. Bending down and picking up his arm, trying to find the non existed pulse.

There was none, feeling his chest getting tight, trying not to cry, and realizing that James was not the only one living in the house.

"LILY! LILY! HARRY!" He screamed, as his eyes traveled up the stairs. Nothing was wrong with the stairs, but it seemed as if fire was alight on the stairs, a simple pathway that he could use.

Tearing up the stairs and turning into each room, each one in more chaos then the next, the last room at the end of the hall was wide open. Dashing from the previous room and flinging himself into the last room.

This time, he didn't step onto a wand, but on a wad of hair. Dark. Red. Hair. Feeling everything he knew, anything he had ever felt go cold. Her hair was spilled out like a halo, her emerald green eyes that he remembered that shone of happiness were filled with the fear he had always dreaded. A sight that he would always remember. Seeing the blood spill from her was the worst. Letting out a cracked sob, why? What happened?

But this was the nursery, were was Harry? Feeling panic stricken, he searched the room. He couldn't he wouldn't, Voldemort wouldn't kidnap him? No, but blow him up? Like they did to Benji? Looking around the room, for anything, even a speck of blood. Nothing, the only blood that was there was the one under Lily that was growing steadily bigger.

Hearing a cry, the cry of Harry that he knew so well. Looking about and out the window. Nearly throwing himself out of the window. He saw a large out line of a large person or something, before he had given any thought. He dashed out of the house, out of the front door and into the biting cool air.

"Hagrid!" Sirius cried, the large figure turned to show who he was. It was Hagrid, in his arms was Harry, Sirius could have screamed of relief. Instead he went up to Hagrid and looked down onto Harry. Something was wrong; a large lighting bolt was across his forehead. Nothing that he had gotten from Lily's or James's genes.

"Hagrid, hand him over, I'm the God-Father" Sirius said, opening his arms, he killed his best friends. He might as well make sure that their son grows up safe. Making sure that the last Potter was safe and away.

"Can't, got orders from Dumbledore"

"I'm the God-Father, just hand Harry to me"

"I can't Sirius, he's going over to his Aunt and Uncle"

Sirius feeling already weak, remembered what Lily at said. A charm, a charm to keep Harry safe, oh how he wished he paid attention to her. But it was just when James and him were playing with Harry.

His heart cracked even more, the memory of James clung onto him just like a pair of wet clothes. Not wanting or trying to get it off.

Hagrid's beetle black eyes were twisted into concern, wrapping an arm around Sirius. "It's hard for everyone. But it's not as if they are going to be gone forever. Everything happens for a reason." He said in soothing words.

Sirius, not feeling a slight better, James was gone. No more of the great times that they use to have. No more transforming into animals. No more, no more.

"Hagrid, before you go, can-can I say good bye to Harry?" Sirius asked, his voice sounding raspy.

Hagrid nodding, Sirius walked over to the baby, best as he could, he hugged him (Hagrid refused to hand the baby to Sirius). Burying his face into the black messy hair that Harry had, feeling the tears slimmer down onto his hair.

"Be good, cause enough trouble at school. Just like your dad and I did. But not too much, your mum would hate to hear what I'm encouraging you to do. But be the best you can be, I'll see you in a couple of years. Be brave, your dad was the greatest person alive. I don't know how I will be able to live with out him. Your mum had the sweetest soul to sweep this earth. I'm glad I got to know her. Be the best, I've got full confidence that you will be one of the greatest wizards of our time."

Finishing his speech. He lifted his face from the head of the last Potter in the family. This kid will go far, no matter what he had to do. He will make sure that this kid goes far. It was the only thing that he could do to repay James.

Out of nowhere, the gleaming red bike came. Instead of seeing it in a light of greatness, he found it horrible. It linked back to James and everything he knew.

"Take the bike Hagrid" Sirius said as his head fell from his head.

"Bu' what 'bout you?"

"I won't need it, get Harry to his Aunt and Uncle fast Hagrid" Sirius replied upsettingly.

Without another hesitation, Hagrid jumped onto the bike and with a quick 'thanks' he flew into the air. Just like Sirius did only moments before.

Crumpling onto the sidewalk, he was alone in the world. No one to trust, no one to talk to him. He was on the run. Remus, had no idea that they had switched Secret Keeper. So when Order hears that Lily and James are dead. They will all think that Sirius betrayed them. The ministry would get word of this; they would try to find him. They were throwing anyone who was related to Voldemort into Azkaban. Oddly, he wanted to get caught, he wanted to be in Azkaban. He deserved it, James had always joked that he would look good on a 'Wanted' poster.

Could people even think that? Sirius had been best friends with James forever. He wouldn't let out a secret from him. He wished he could tell the truth. But that's not Sirius; he can't speak unless he got even with the lair, traitor, and rat.

He was going to get Peter for this, why didn't he ever think it was him? So weak, was one thing. But so venerable, sticking noses into other people's business. Doing deeds for him and James and him at school. Him and James were one of the powerful of the student body.

Why wouldn't things change when they got out of school? Sirius and James weren't the powerful ones when school was out and over; Voldemort was the bully this time. Maybe Peter wanted to side with the bad side this time. Who knows, he could never understand a rat's brain.

Getting up and starting down to hunt down Peter. Hunt him for his sin, for this, will not go unseen. For once, Sirius Black was going down the road with out his best friend. James Potter.

For once, he was going down the road alone, friendless, and full of guilt.

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Authors Note: What do you think? Review