A/N I had an idea a couple days ago that I managed to flesh out today, and then I felt super motivated tonight, so here you go. The first chapter of this story. It is very short because I felt that if I continued, I wold have lost the feeling this chapter held. So, yep.
Story rated M currently because I don't know how graphic and vulgar I'm going to get. I may drop it to a T farther down the line. As well, this story is a definite Family genre, but I may end up changing the Angst to Hurt/Comfort. We'll see.
Hope you enjoy.
A six year old Harry Potter huddled closer into the side of his godfather, Sirius Black, shivering at the breeze that made its way through the boards of the shack. His godfather pulled him in, wrapping his large but weak arms around the little Harry, finding strength in the need to protect his godson.
Sirius would never understand why he thought that preventing his godson from living with spiteful muggles would be a good idea. If Harry was with the Dursley's, he wouldn't be forced to bear the biting wind of the night. His little Harry wouldn't be in states of hunger that made him keel over and cry from the pain. His little Harry would have a chance at a happy life... or even just a happier one than this.
He made a grave mistake running away with Harry in his arms after breaking into the Dursley house. They neglected him, yes, but he was in a home. Something Sirius would never be able to provide. He was hunted for allegedly killing Pettigrew and those muggles; stealing away the Boy-Who-Lived made him the number one most wanted man in all of Wizarding Europe. He should have returned Harry while he was still a baby and let himself be thrown in Azkaban or kissed. But he didn't, because he was too selfish.
So they had to stick to the streets of the muggle world, a place in which he was still known and wanted. The streets. Merlin, they were awful. The better alleys were grimey and smelled like piss and shit, with maybe a box or two for shelter. The worse ones... it took all he had not to lose his stomach on more than one occasion. He had walked in on many nefarious schemes in the past six years. Brains splattered by a gunshot, someone's organs being messily put into an icebox, turning away from the screams and pleas of help from a woman being cornered by men because he was too much of a coward to risk leaving Harry behind...
Harry didn't deserve anything close to this. And Sirius certainly didn't deserve Harry.
Little Harry, who always hugged him when he was feeling down. Who squealed in delight when Padfoot made an appearance. Who used his big round emerald eyes to persuade someone to let them eat when they had no money because his, Sirius Black's, stomach growled.
Harry was the only thing that made Sirius keep going. The only light in the pitch black abyss he had fallen into. He was just as selfish now as he was back then, because he was glad that Harry was with him despite the circumstances.
The boy relaxed in his arms, having fallen asleep finally. Sirius sniffed quietly, not wanting to wake the boy up. The convict leaned his head back against the wall of the shack, closing his eyes, hoping for a few brief moments of respite where he could imagine a better reality. One where he was able to drown his godson in gifts on Christmas, and even more on his birthday. One where he could smother Harry like a mother to make him annoyed that he was being shown affection in the presence of his friends because "It's embarrassing!" A different time and place where he could be the godfather he should be, not the one he ended up.
Sirius drifted off to the fantasies of a happy Harry with friends, surrounded by love. These thoughts did not continue into his sleep, turning into nightmares of it being Harry whose body was being harvested for organs, whose screams echoed through the stale alley air.
Sirius woke to bleak morning light sifting its way through the many cracks in the shack. He had slept, but his body still felt consumed by slime as he unraveled his arms from around Harry, who was still sleeping soundly. He gently laid Harry down on the ground, careful not to jostle him any. He stood up, feeling his knees, back, and several other joints pop painfully. It was something he was used to by now.
He walked to the door of the shack, surprised that it managed to stay attached to its hinges after the wind last night, and opened it, welcoming the sun's first rays of light with a peaceful sigh. The sunrise always managed to make him more at ease, warming his skin and bones slowly. A feather among needles.
"Glad to see you're finally awake," a voice said from Sirius's left. He spun quickly to face the man the voice belonged to, grey eyes wide in panic and shock. The man who spoke raised his hands as a gesture of peace. "I know who you are. I'm not here to turn you in."
That meant nothing to Sirius. His eyes hardened to a molten steel as he glared at the shorter man, "What do you want?" he rasped out, hands ready to defend himself if attacked. He may not have a wand anymore, but he knew how to throw a punch.
The man shrugged nonchalantly. "Revenge on the Ministry."
Sirius would admit to being surprised by this, but he had learned not to pry into other people's business by now.
"What do you want with us." Sirius growled. He hated these games.
"I want to help you," the man held up a hand to halt Sirius from growling out a more threatening sentence. "We are alike, you and I. We both have experience being fucked by the Ministry."
"How so?" Sirius barked out, flinching when he realized how loud it was. He didn't want to wake Harry.
The man must have expected the question, because he replied without hesitation. "My sister is in Azkaban right now because she was with a Death Eater. She isn't a Death Eater herself, but nobody seemed to care. She went to Azkaban without a trial."
Sirius sympathized with him, but it still meant nothing. The Ministry sucked, no shit Sherlock. "Why should I care?" He asked, voice full of ice, bereft of emotion. There was no room, never any room, for showing emotion. That made you a target.
The shorter man shifted on his feet, though unperturbed by Sirius's stony reply. "It gives us a common goal." he said cooly.
The convict's lips twitched in irritation, which would soon escalate into anger if this little spitfuck kept toeing around the line, "And what is that goal?" He said through his teeth.
"To get back at the Ministry."
Sirius snorted, not believing his ears. This man clearly knew nothing about him. He didn't want to get back at the Ministry. He got over that when he realized that dwelling on it would endanger Harry. "I don't care about the Ministry. I only want to keep Harry safe." he said. Safe from the world that he had put Harry in.
The man scowled for a split second before his features returned to being impassive. His voice was a bit more strained than before, "Alright, fine. But if you want to help Harry so much, then why do you keep him?"
His words sunk their razor teeth into Sirius right where it hurt most. He already knew he was a selfish prick. This little fucking shit had no reason to come up and spit it back at his face even more-
A tiny hand tugged at his sleeve, some threads coming loose along with. Sirius looked down into the wide innocent eyes of his godson, instantly deflating. Harry looked at him intensely for a few seconds, and then nodded lightly to himself, wrapping his arms around Sirius as much he could.
There was no way Sirius could answer that question now. Thankfully, the man didn't expect him to, eyes softening as he looked at Harry peeking at him from behind Sirius.
"This," the man gestured to their surroundings of a mildewed shack in the process of collapsing under an old bridge, "Is not fair to him," He nodded his head pointedly at Harry. "I'm giving you a chance to make it better. Revenge or no revenge. It doesn't matter."
Sirius closed his eyes as he breathed in deeply, knowing that this man was right, but so fucking terrified of doing something that would end up leaving Harry alone or hurt that he didn't want to believe it.
Grey eyes snapped open, fiercely staring at the still unnamed man. "Take a Wizarding Oath." Sirius commanded. If he made a Wizarding Oath, maybe, just maybe, he could be trusted.
This sudden order startled the other wizard. He looked apprehensive for a flit of a second, but he drew out his wand and held it up to take the Wizarding Oath anyway. "I, Jinx Kaine Morgan, do hereby swear upon my life and my magic that I will not purposefully bring harm to Sirius Orion Black or Harry James Potter, nor will I willingly reveal their locations to anyone. So mote it be." His magic wrapped around him, tightening as though putting him in a bind, and then disappeared.
Sirius nodded stiffly, accepting the oath. He swallowed at the idea that things might actually be looking up for them, fighting back the swell of tears.
There was a chance, a sliver of hope, that Harry would still have a future in something other than wandering the streets. For the first time in a long time, Sirius allowed himself to hold onto that hope.
A/N Hi again. Nice to see you. Review if you please, all feedback welcome and appreciated.
Oh, also, this chapter was from Sirius's perspective, though this story is Harry-centric. The next couple might be Sirius too, I don't know yet. The next one will probably be a chapter of describing the next few years, because the main focus of this story is not Harry and Sirius wandering the streets, but rather Harry's efforts to help his godfather. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed. See ya!