Prologue
The baby's green eyes curiously gazed up at Sirius as he held her. The babe yawned grandly, stretched her feeble limbs, and settled into Sirius' arms and slept. This infant was in his charge. It was his job to find someone to protect her as soon as possible. The heavy metal kickstand that supported his beloved motorcycle gleamed in the moonlight. Sirius tucked the little one tightly in his jacket to shield her from the night's bitter wind. He mounted his motorcycle and flew off into the night.
Sirius parked the motorcycle outside a well known wizard pub on the outskirts of the Paris. He entered the dark tavern to find it quiet with a few people, despite the early morning hour, that clutched tankards and looked rather haggard. He walked over to the bar and spoke with the barkeeper. "Do you know any place I could stay?"
"We've got a few rooms for rent upstairs," the barkeeper replied with a thick, cockney accent.
"You're English?" Sirius inquired.
"Born and raised," The rather robust man stated proudly. He lightly padded his fringe of hair that encircled his bald spot.
"Say, do you know any of our kind in Paris that are worth trusting?"
"Quite a few, my friend, why?"
"My daughter and I just arrived here and we don't know anyone. I just need some friends I can trust."
"Aye, There's lots of lovely young folk who come round the tavern. There aren't many of our kind in ol' Paris—most like to stay in the countryside. But this inn is somewhat of a locale. You come to the right place mate. Jus' hang around during the day an' you can meet plenty of folk. "
"Wonderful. How about a room?"
"2B's empty. Up the stairs to the right." He held out a key which Sirius accepted.
Sirius entered the room to find it a bit grungy and not many luxuries. The baby didn't take to the room because upon settling down she proceeded to fuss for the rest of the morning.
At 11:00 he left his room and came down into the tavern to find it rather busy. Lively noise filled the air. The barkeeper's name he learned was Nigel. He chatted with Nigel about the various people that would sweep in, have a drink, talk up the weather, and leave. A woman and a man came in and caught Nigel's attention.
"Katherine and Vincent! What can I do for you?" he called to them.
"Nigel, I was curious if you had any more of that delicious wine you sold us last week. Vincent and I simply adored it!"
"Sorry, love, fresh out! You're apparently not the only Frenchmen who adored that wine. It was sold as soon as it came in." he said apologetically.
"Oh," she replied softly. "We'll check in some other time then." She and the man left.
"Lovely, young couple, they are. I jus' met them six months ago. Very reliable and nice—two good people."
Sirius roused at that information. Why not give them a shot, eh? he thought. "You know where I could find them?"
"I think he lef' his card with me at one time. He said he was a tinker man of sorts." Nigel rummaged through a stack of papers behind the bar. "Ah, here it is! 'Ere, you can have it." Sirius accepted the card that read VINCENT ROYAL in bold print, with an address underneath.
That afternoon Sirius set out with the baby to find the couple. He found that quiet townhouse not far from the bar, still on the outskirts of Paris. He knocked the brass knocker lightly against the door. It opened to reveal a young woman with short brown hair and cloudy blue eyes. She looked Sirius over before asking. "How may I help you?"
"I am new to this city and I need to meet some trustworthy people. The barkeeper down the road said you might be able to help me."
The woman eyed him suspiciously. "What is it exactly that you want?" A strong French accent permeated her words.
"I have a business proposition of sorts. Is your husband home?" She noticed Vincent's white business card brandished in his slender hand.
She invited him in. "May I ask your name?"
"Regulus," he lied, giving her his brother's name.
"Wait here please."
Sirius stood awkwardly in the entryway to their home. The baby stirred and began crying in hunger. "Shh—shh," Sirius cooed. "You'll be fed in no time." He rocked the baby, sending her back to sleep. A man about six feet tall with short black hair and hazel eyes appeared in the entryway. His sage green robes billowed about his ankles as he shook Sirius' hand and invited him into the dining room just to their right.
They sat down opposite each other in stiff wooden chairs. The man introduced himself as Vincent Royal, and his wife, Katherine.
"My wife tells me you have a proposition for us," his eyes brimmed with eagerness. "You see, Regulus, I dabble in all sorts of trades and hobbies magic and muggle—and lately I haven't had any luck with finding someone who shares or is willing to invest in my interests. We have fallen on hard times." He gestured to the austere walls and furniture around him.
"I am sorry for your misfortune; however, this proposition is one of a different nature." Sirius said tactfully. Vincent leaned forward slightly. "I require the services of a trustworthy couple who could take care of this child—only for a few months—three at the most. But for reasons I must keep private, she is not safe. I know you do not know me, nor may you want to, but for the sake of this innocent child, I beg your help." The Royals did not look as if that was the proposition they wanted to hear. "You will be well paid, if it is any consolation."
Their disposition changed. "How long again?" Vincent asked.
"Hopefully only two months."
"Excuse us for a moment, will you?" The couple stepped out into the hall. Sirius could still hear what they were saying.
"We could do this Katherine! We need the money. It's only for two months."
"Vincent, that man is a complete stranger! He could be a convict for all we know!"
Sirius snorted to himself, thinking, A convict! The very idea—ha!
"It's just a little baby, Katherine! How hard could it be?"
"What if he never comes back?" she retorted. "What if we never see that man again? I thought we agreed that we didn't want children. They're lovely as babies but then they grow up! Besides, we can't afford it."
"He said he'd pay us. And I trust him. Look at him—he's desperate!"
Katherine walked back into the room scowling. "How much?" she demanded.
Sirius reached into his jacket and pulled out a heavy leather pouch. I chinked loudly when he set I on the table. "300 galleons." Katherine looked as if she had just swallowed her tongue. "Is that fair to you?"
It seemed to take a while for Vincent to find his voice. "Two months you say?"
"You may do with the money what you will, but I ask that you spend a fraction on the baby and her needs."
"But of course," Katherine strode toward him. Sirius noted that she added a touch of sweetness in her voice. Katherine reached for the infant. Sirius cautiously laid the baby in her arms. She then stepped back to stand by her husband again.
"I will return in two months if all goes well, if not, I'll send word." Vincent Royal nodded and proffered a hand which Sirius shook, sealing the deal. They opened the front door and Sirius strolled down the front walk confident in his choice of safe keepers.
"Regulus!" Katherine called. It took Sirius a second to realize that she was calling him. "What's her name?"
He looked back at the couple standing side by side with the baby wrapped securely in Katherine's arms.
"Emma."
Sirius returned to the tavern positively exhausted and feeling unnaturally heavy. It was still light outside when Sirius collapsed into bed. After all, he had ridden through the night with the baby and arrived in the wee hours of the morning.
When Sirius woke it was dark. The clock on the wall read 6:30 am. He had to leave. He left money for the room on the nightstand and exited the tavern. His motorcycle waited expectantly. Sirius mounted it and with a tap of his wand it sputtered to life.
The sun had risen two hours ago and Sirius was feeling a bit excited to be going back so early. He figured he wouldn't see England for a week, but one day later he was flying out of France! There was a rolling expanse of hills that gave way to a flat plain, which revealed to be full of muggles.
Oh bother, he thought.
Dismay filled Sirius as he landed quickly. Bumping uncomfortably down the country dirt road, Sirius scowled when a large banner blocked his path. Le festival de Bretagne was scrawled out in large blue letters. Bretagne! Sirius thought. I thought I had long been out of Bretagne! He was under the impression that he was going the straightest course as possible but apparently that wasn't the case. A fiercely yellow sign was posted next the banner: it read DETOUR: 26 miles. His scowl deepened. He would have to stay on the ground—the risk of being seen was too great. Fifteen miles down the road he got caught behind a truck that was traveling at the breakneck pace of a snail. And naturally hills were on both sides of the road preventing Sirius from passing on either side.
The light was beginning to fade when Sirius reached the shores of the English Channel. He flew down a cliff to a deserted beach. Yet again, Sirius found his energy utterly spent from another day of travel and his limbs sore and numb from riding on a dirt ride most of the way. He crawled under an overhang, far from the water's edge, and quickly drifted off to sleep.
Freezing saltwater rudely woke Sirius. The tide was coming in rapidly. It was impossible to tell the time of day. Sirius assumed it was still morning. Dark, ominous clouds loomed overhead, shielding the sun's warm glow. Sirius hastily got on his bike and flew to the top of the cliff. This new vantage point allowed him to gaze over the irate, churning waters. Then the rain began to pound the earth with a driving fury. Sirius took shelter under a nearby tree to wait out the storm. He couldn't possibly fly through this. He had no choice but to sit and wait out the storm.
Night fell. Sirius welcomed the darkness, for it seemed to bring an end to the storm. He mounted his bike once more and journeyed through the sky, humming a cheerful tune. He was still in high spirits, despite the several delays, to be going home and to see James and Lily.
A cry of anguish tore itself from Sirius' mouth. Denial coursed through him. No—it couldn't have happened! He had only been gone for two days. TWO DAYS! Godric's Hollow was in a state of panic. Two hours ago, Voldemort had come—fought James and murdered him and then Lily, who died protecting Harry. The Potter house lay in ruins. James and Lily were gone. Dead. No more. Finished. Dead. The word hit him like a hammer over and over again. Tears burned defiantly in his eyes. It was him. Voldemort. Sirius knew it. He hadn't been quick enough.
James.
Prongs.
Dead.
His best friend.
Lily.
Dear, sweet Lily.
Murdered.
The thoughts ran through his mind but he still couldn't accept it. And Harry… He felt sick. He stumbled over to a tree in the front of the house and retched. He screamed and kept screaming. He cursed the heavens and damned everyone around him to hell. Still he couldn't understand how Voldemort knew where the Potters were. Only he knew. Only he, Dumbledore and…Pettigrew. Just the thought of him was disgusting. It had to have been him. Their secret keeper—he was the only one who could say where they lived. The damn weasel. Sirius was never comfortable with letting Peter be the secret keeper. He had started to distrust him since they left school. He always lurked in the shadows and disappeared for long amounts of time without a trace. However, Sirius had gone against his instincts. He forced himself to realize that he would be too obvious a choice. Hatred pulsed through his body.
A dark, giant figure moved inside the house. Sirius raised his wand prepared to kill. Hagrid came into view covered in brick dust. Sirius lowered his wand and his posture faltered. In Hagrid's arms was a miniature bundle. No. It could not be Harry! How could he have survived?! More tears clouded Sirius' vision. It was Harry. The infant was alive with nothing but a deep cut on his forehead in the shape of a lightening bolt. "How?" Sirius managed to croak hoarsely.
Hagrid hung his head. "Pettigrew…he-he betrayed them." Tears glistened in Hagrid's scraggly beard. This confirmation of Sirius' thought made his blood boil. He felt sick again but suppressed his want to vomit.
"But," his throat clogged with rage and hurt, "how did Harry survive? If James and Lily…" he couldn't bring himself to say it.
"I don't fully understand it myself Sirius. But Harry somehow counteracted the spell and we believe that Voldemort is either powerless or dead." Sirius couldn't digest the information. He stared blankly towards the house, weeping.
Abruptly he said, "I must attend to something immediately. Harry will be safe with you for now." Sirius rolled his bike to Hagrid. "Take this. I don't need it anymore."
Hagrid put his bulky hand on Sirius' shoulders. "I don't think you're fit to do anything, lad. Go home."
"I have to go." Sirius took one last look at the house and his sadness transformed quickly to anger, then to revenge. With Peter's flat in mind, Sirius apparated and the air echoed with a faint pop.
A/N: The rest as we know is Harry Potter history. Sirius was accused of murdering Pettigrew, which landed him in Azkaban for 13 years. He never returned to France. The next chapter will pick up 16 years later. Hope you enjoyed. Please review.