A/N: When I first began writing this, I had summarized the first seven chapters or so of the first book in my first chapter. I had a feeling that it was just that - a summary of what I wanted to write, rather than the story itself. So I decided to start again, using what I'd started with as a guideline. Not everything will be as it was, but I think it'll work out better. Also, of course, nothing HP related belongs to me.

The Secret Keeper AND The Boy Who Lived

There was nothing but fury in Sirius' mind, black swirling rage that blotted out coherent thought. Hagrid had taken James and Lily's son, Harry was safe, and he was free to hunt down the traitor. The only thing that got past the rage was the grief and the guilt. Pettigrew. It had been his brilliant idea for Pettigrew to be the Secret Keeper. It was his fault his best friend was dead. His fault, and Peter's fault. Pettigrew wouldn't live to regret it.

Finding him was almost too easy. In a crowded street, full of Muggles- Sirius barely noticed them. For a while things had gotten confused, with him and Peter fighting. He was an utter wreck, and confronting Peter had gone terribly wrong. There was an explosion and bodies everywhere, and Peter was slipping away as a rat. Sirius shifted immediately and frantically gave chase, catching the rat in his teeth.

If Pettigrew hadn't changed back immediately he'd have been torn apart. He would still have been torn apart if Sirius had just a little longer with him. As it was, he merely had some bad bites, and was struggling with a furious Black when Aurors arrived on the scene. Both men sported bruises, split lips, and Pettigrew had a bloody nose besides some nasty looking bites. Their fight was put to an end with some stunners, the Muggles were tended to, and both men were detained for questioning.

Each claimed the other had been the secret keeper.

Each of the men was insistent that the other had betrayed Lily and James to their deaths.

Peter's story fit with what others knew and honestly made more sense. Black alternately raged and wept. Peter was miserable and terrified. It seemed that Sirius was as mad as Peter claimed, but Pettigrew went pale at the mere mention of a more thorough interrogation. Black couldn't care less about his own guilt, he cared about nothing except killing Peter.

To the Aurors they both seemed suspicious, and a full Wizengamot was held as they were once again questioned. The more they dealt with the men, the more the pieces fit together. Once they were each dosed with Veritaserum the full story came out. Black's grief and anger at betrayal was genuine. As for Pettigrew... the cowardly rat had given his friends up to the Deatheaters. He'd betrayed his friends, and their son would grow up without his parents because of - what? His feelings of inadequacy?

It was several months before everything was sorted out. The initial celebrations of the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were long over. By the time Black was finally released, James and Lily's son was gone, and Peter was beyond his reach in Azkaban. Arrangements had been made, he was told when he'd begun demanding where the child was. Arrangements his arse. Harry was his godson, and he would raise him like he'd promised Lily and James when he was born. He would protect him, he vowed, and no blasted arrangements would get in his way. Bloody interfering Headmaster. The old git was logical and tried placating Sirius for months.

It didn't work. Sirius got more irate with each passing day, and began sending Howlers to the older man when normal letters didn't seem to get through to him. It added a certain amount of vicious pleasure to know the man's Howlers would be overheard by students and professors.

"YOU TELL ME WHERE MY GODSON IS. I AM HIS GODFATHER. JAMES AND LILY WOULD WANT HARRY WITH ME!"

He'd gotten a response soon after, remonstrating sending it in the great hall, as well as alerting to him that the boy was safely with his aunt and uncle. That he was protected by wards, bonds of blood, and better off growing up away from the Wizarding World. It was very short and very terse. Apparently it hadn't been enough, but the letter had been enough fuel for another Howler. And enough that Sirius could use the prejudices of the Wizarding World against the old man if he refused to give in.

"ALBUS YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO SEND MY GODSON TO LIVE WITH MUGGLES. HOW DARE YOU MAKE THAT DECISION, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT. WHERE IS HE YOU DAFT OLD FOOL?! I SHOULD HEX YOUR WRINKLY OLD BALLS OFF!"

After that one, he not only got another huffy response from Dumbledore but a flurry of letters from students, professors, parents, and a host of others throughout the Wizarding community. Some supported him, some said that Albus knew best because didn't he always? Reporters hounded him, stalked him really. He was on edge and ready to hex somebody, anybody, when Remus showed up. They hadn't been speaking, really. He'd suspected Remy, and Remy had suspected him, and neither had a chance to apologize about it after Peter's betrayal had come to light.

"You're right, Sirius. Lily and James would want Harry with you. Harry likes you, and he'd be happier with you than some Muggles he's never met," Remus spoke up suddenly, after joining Sirius at a pub he'd always favored. Sirius hadn't acknowledged his arrival immediately, hadn't realized that it wasn't just another patron sitting at the bar with him, that it was his old friend. Sirius raised his head from his hands, and let them drop to his lap as he turned to his old friend. There were so many things they could say to each other, but Remus had said what he'd needed to hear already, and Sirius, well he was never any good about knowing just what Remus needed to hear.

"Y'know, I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so," Sirius replied, reaching for his glass again. Everyone thinks I'm not fit to be a parent. I'm impulsive, reckless... Who'd think I could settle down and raise a kid? Maybe I wouldn't be boring and stuffy like some parents think they have to be, but I'd keep Harry safe.

He barely realized he was saying all that aloud, until Remus patted his back and said, "I know you would. You will. Just keep at it. And you can always owl me, I'll help out. Whenever you need it. Harry needs you, and-" and you need him, Remus didn't finish. They both did, really. Losing their best friend had been terrible, but to have Harry stolen away like this after, it was too cruel. The significance that witches and wizards gave the boy barely registered in the struggle for guardianship.

Almost everyone sided with Sirius with it, it seemed, and he was benefited by the unfortunate biases of the Wizarding population. Not only was he a wizard, and the legal guardian, he was from the ancient family of Black, even if he didn't always act like it. He was certainly better than some unknown Muggle relatives, blood though they were. The struggle to gain guardianship was exhausting. The public image of him became one of dogged perseverance rather than the devil-may-care attitude he'd always shown.

Harry was nearly two years old when it came to the final show down.

Sirius had scoured his family home and made it safe for a small child, had anything remotely dangerous locked away, and had several rooms dedicated for Harry alone. It was going to be just the two of them after all, and it livened up the old place to have so much of it painted in childish primary colors and cluttered with toys. And at his insistence, he got to visit Harry at his aunt's house. He wanted to talk to them, in case Dumbledore hadn't informed them of his status as Godfather, or that he wished to look after Harry himself, or at least have visits with the toddler. That's when things began to happen, all very suddenly.

Things seemed off right away. Even for a two year old, Harry seemed too small. Thin. He ought to be all baby fat and round cheeks. He was too quiet. He'd been a lively, active baby. Alert. He didn't draw attention to himself anymore. He didn't reach out to be held. He didn't cry when he tried to walk and fell down.

And then, when he asked where Harry slept, no one answered, no one would show him where. That is, until the Dursley's other little boy pointed at a door under the stairs with his chubby hand. Sirius went over and opened the door against the Dursley's protests, and stared in disbelief. There were spiders. Big, hairy, spiders. Nothing but a few broken toys, a mattress, and a ragged blanket. It wasn't even a room. It was a broom cupboard at best, though it was barely fit to be called that.

Rage flowed through him. He breathed it. His hand grasped his wand convulsively. Only seeing Harry stopped him from doing something really drastic, instead of simply casting a full body bind. They fell to the floor, clearly terrified. He was about to lay into them, as soon as he thought of a curse fitting enough, when Harry began sobbing. He stared down at the boy. Harry looked terrified at the bodies of his aunt and uncle - oh shit. Fuck.

"They're okay, Harry, promise, they're just... in time out for being bad."

The sobs turned into sniffles, until his cousin started shrieking too- then Harry started sobbing again.

He had to remove the full body bind, and before the two could really begin to process what happened, he told them very sharply, "The only reason I'm not cursing your arse to your face is because the kids don't need to see that. I'm taking Harry with me-"

"GOOD. I WOULDN'T HAVE TAKEN THE GOOD FOR NOTHING FREAK IF I'D HAD A CHOICE!" the boy's 'Uncle' had shouted, making Dudley cry harder - and Harry go very quiet, and still.

"Vernon-" that was the Aunt, trying to calm the big man down. Maybe she wasn't so bad.

"You're upsetting Dudders."

Or not. Sirius picked Harry up and Apparated onto the front step of his house, his godson still extremely quiet and still. Terrified, but also very alert like he hadn't seen him since- well, since Lily and James died. "Harry, you're going to stay with your Uncle Sirius for a while. Uncle Remus is going to come over too. Remember him?"

The little boy just stared at him with Lily's eyes. Sirius just let them into the house, and brought Harry to his new bedroom. He put him in a handsome new crib. "This will have to do for now. I haven't gotten everything sorted out yet, but I couldn't leave you there..." he hoped that his actions wouldn't make getting this legal difficult, but he would not give Harry up to those people again. Anyone who tried to take him away would find themselves at wand point very quickly.

Lily's eyes were bright in the small boy. Withdrawn as the toddler was compared to when he'd last seen him, he still stared as if he could see right through a person. He could swear the boy was listening too, even if he didn't understand everything he was trying to.

Sirius couldn't understand everything that had just happened himself. He wasn't sure what he'd just taken Harry from. He was just so repelled - what kind of person would have a baby sleep in a cupboard under the stairs? Were they really the people Dumbledore had left Harry with? What had he been thinking?

"What am I going to do now, Harry?" He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. The little boy watched him silently. "No sudden words of wisdom? Oh well. At least you're not crying again." As if to prove him wrong, Harry's face scrunched up as if he was going to start again.

"Oh for fucks sake-" he went and picked the boy up. He bounced him the way he remembered Lily doing, and the boy started crying harder. "Sshh its okay Harry, I'm here now," he said a little hopelessly. Eventually the baby cried himself out and fell asleep, still held by an exhausted Black, who had settled down on the floor leaning against Harry's crib.

They did try to take Harry back. Not the Aunt and Uncle. The authorities, with Dumbledore pushing them. Sirius had threatened anyone and everyone at wand point. He gave proof of the neglect his godson had been dealt, and threatened them with more than curses.

For the first time in his life, Sirius actively made use of his heritage and family name, that he'd always loathed.

For the first time he was behaving in a way that people who'd care about his heritage and name would come to his aid if he asked, and these included some powerful people. Not the least of which included, to his surprise, Augusta Longbottom. She came to his defense before anyone else, and made certain that anyone else who liked their social standings stood behind him as well. It left him dumbfounded, really, but she whispered she had a grandson the boy's age, and... well he knew what happened to young Neville's parents.

He didn't like it, but he was determined. He would protect Harry, and if that meant abandoning his youthful pretenses at rebellion, well fuck it. He could have acted out in any way, to piss off his parents. And it was only so long as he needed to make certain his guardianship was secure, surely he could handle it that long. Keeping it together while everything was still uncertain, he could only thank Remus for that. Good old Moony, he helped him keep his temper, kept him from actually cursing anyone, and kept an eye on Harry when Sirius had to deal with everyone.

Not that others hadn't offered to help. Almost everyone did, actually, which was more of the problem. Everyone wanted a hand in raising the Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter was spoken with a reverential tone. He was starting to get an idea of why Dumbledore had wanted the kid raised away from all that. It'd be a miracle if all that didn't go to his head. He was famous. Really famous. It was a bit mind numbing, when he actually did take Harry out for a bit of shopping in Diagon Alley. They were practically mobbed. Threats to hex anyone who touched Harry were ignored. Everyone wanted to paw at the little boy. He started crying, silently, which made Sirius furious, and still they wouldn't back off, and he couldn't get away from the crowd.

"You're scaring him! I said get the fuck away!" Sirius yelled, clutching Harry to his chest with both arms. If he'd dared hold him with one arm he could curse everyone within sight, but he was terrified someone would try to tug the boy away from him. He couldn't risk loosening his grip on Harry in this crowd. Not all the expressions were reverent - more than one looked quite malevolent. It occurred to him that there were still Death Eaters loose, who would certainly blame Harry for his death. This could be more dangerous than an unexpected fright for the little boy, and he still couldn't break free from the crowd.

People began falling left and right, Immobilized. Sirius broke free from the crowd, and made it to the assailant. Sirius gripped Harry with one arm and reached for his wand.

The man stared at him coldly. With hatred. Well, that wasn't surprising. "Take better care with him next time," was all he said, before turning his back with a swish of black robes and departing. Sirius frowned after him, but decided against going after him. Harry had a bad scare - hell, he'd had a bad scare - and they were going home before they had another one. He couldn't depend on that kind of help again.

"Thank you," Sirius said, a little roughly, to the man's back. If he was short about it, he had a sobbing child in his arms, and was still eying the dispersing crowd warily. Severus Snape just saved them from a mob and he had no idea why the Deatheater - former Deatheater? had chosen to step in, but for the moment he didn't care. They headed home quickly, and the next time he had to go shopping he left Harry at home with Remus.