A man stood in the ruins of a street, staring at the sewer system. Dead bodies were strewn all around him. The coopery smell of blood mixed with the sharp scent of burnt flesh. Aurors appeared from nowhere, surrounding him with their wands drawn. Memories hit him, a barrage of painful flashbacks to his senses.
"Don't worry, Sirius! Everything with be fine. Lilly and I will just ride this out, and we'll be out of hiding in no time." James had said, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.
"It's the perfect plan, James. Use Peter as secret-keeper. Voldemort will come after me, he'll never think of Peter." Sirius said, shaking his head.
He knocked on the blue door of Peter's house. When he didn't answer, Sirius knocked again.
"Peter! Are you in?"
But the spell had been broken. Every object in Peter's house lay still, in its place. There had been no struggle, no sign of aggravation. With that, the final piece of the puzzle locked into place.
It all made sense to him now. The absences in their Seventh year. His increased nervousness. His discomfort around James, his outright disdain of Lilly. Everything fit.
'Oh, I am Fortune's fool! Where is that quote from? Remus would know. Remus, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever thought you were dangerous!'
He rushed to Godric's Hollow, only to find it a shambles. He ran past the already blown apart door, only to stare at his best friend's prone body. The cracked glasses, and hazel eyes staring lifelessly at him. He heard a dog-like howl of despair and pain rip the eerie, graveyard-esque silence, not realizing it was his own voice, as he held his friend, his brother. Closing James' eyes, tears streaming down his face, he continued up the rickety stairs. In the nursery, the gold and red, quidditch themed nursery he had helped James decorate for Lilly, he found a stream of fiery red hair, and a body lying face-down on the ground. Turning the body over, he gazed into Lilly's face, with its light smile.
"Lilly, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have protected you. I should have saved you. I should have listened to you!"
A thin, small voice interrupted his tear-crazed apology.
"Pah-foot?"
Sirius remembered his frenzied greeting of the boy. Hugging him, and crying with him, as he gently wiped the blood from Harry's forehead. But then Hagrid had taken him, and the joy he felt at knowing James' son was alive was replaced by angry, hatred, and revenge.
Now, after Peter's ultimate betrayal, and surprisingly ingenious escape, Sirius thought again of Harry. He would never know his brave, witty father, or his beautiful, spirited mother. He thought of all the times he himself had spent with Lilly and James. And all the memories he would never get. All because of Peter. In the end, it was poor, pitiful, tag-along Peter who ruined their happiness. None of them, not one, saw it coming. As the irony of the situation hit Sirius, as the emotional overload became too much, as the Aurors closed in around him, he laughed.
He threw his head back, and laughed.