Chapter 3

Disclaimer:

This story is based on the Harry Potter series belonging exclusively to J.K. Rowling and her publishers, and no profit is made from it.

Portkey travel was unlike anything Harry had ever felt before. The ground disappeared beneath him and with it 4 Privet Drive. It was thousands of times faster than a tire swing, the pull at his navel thousands of times more insistent. The mass of his trunk was swinging harshly against his side, bruising his ribs. The world was an unpleasant swarming blur. This was nothing like the rushing agility and speed of his nimbus; this was pure, unrepentant agony. It must have been at least a minute when he finally jolted to a halt and fell clumsily face down onto the ground.

Hedwig had finally woken and was hooting shrilly.

Harry's rib cage was aching, and his head lurched obnoxiously. What coherent thoughts he had were focused so entirely on his disorientation that it took a few moments to realize that there was more than ordinary dirt and grass smushing his face. He slowly extended his arms and pushed himself onto his knees.

He was lying in a bed of green foliage so thick that he could barely see any of the soil. There were plants with large wide leaves whose stems drooped under their weight and ferns with long, thin, spiky leaves. Broad, soaring trees stood hauntingly beautiful beside awkward young saplings. They were contorted and bulging, wrapped in languidly twisted vines and roots absorbing the nutrients from the already depleted earth.

They were in… a jungle.

It was already dark, a huge moon flushing the area with light. They stood on a little hill. Through a break in the vegetation, Harry could see a few miles beyond, to higher hills that went up into the sky and were enveloped by the fog.

"Where are we?" said Harry in wonder. Black came up to his shoulder and smiled contentedly at his awed expression.

"Brazil. My great-uncle Alphard lived here when I was a kid. He was a bit of a recluse and he loved nature, so he moved here, built the ah…house, and put wards up so that no one could disturb him."

He gave Harry a nervous look.

"Harry, I don't want to scare you with this, but Uncle Alphard only ever gave me access to the wards, and to include you, I'll have to take some of your blood. Once we've done it, though, we won't ever have to again, I promise."

Harry nodded absently, still completely floored by his surroundings, and Black carefully placed his wand against Harry's hand. With a quick whisper, a cut sliced through his palm. It hurt…a lot and reminded Harry of the circumstances. He couldn't let down his guard. If Black was dangerous, then giving him free access to his blood probably wasn't the brightest idea. It was too late, though. Black had already gathered some of the blood with a leaf and dripped it onto a large rock a few feet away from them and then added some of his own. There was a moment in which Harry wondered whether it had worked at all, and then there was a rustling of the leaves above him, and when he gazed up into the canopy, he saw it.

It was nestled snugly thirty feet off the ground between several enormous trees. Its walls were made from the crisscrossing branches of those trees, the roof, from the leaves. A rope ladder hung down from one of the supporting branches.

"What do you think?" Black was watching him carefully.

Harry grinned up at him and said honestly, "It's magnificent."

And it was. There was nothing ordinary or boring about this house, if it could even be called a house. It blended so well with the trees that it wasn't imposing or pretentious…it just was.

Now that he was here, in this lush, beautiful place, far away from the Dursleys, it was hard to feel anything but wonder and joy. He would listen to whatever Black had to say, and he hoped desperately that he was innocent so that he could stay here, just a little bit longer. The farthest he had ever been was Hogwarts, and that was still in Britain. This…all this…was so surreal. He felt like he had when Hagrid first told him that he was a wizard, a mixture of disbelief and euphoria. Except, Hagrid, despite his size, had never been convicted of a crime and sent to prison. The worst he had done was get expelled from Hogwarts. Harry would have to remember that. Black had promised to prove his innocence. If he couldn't, Harry would have to find some way to escape. He felt for his wand to make sure that it was still secure in his shirtsleeve. It was.

"We'll have to take this, to get up there," Black said, gathering the ladder with one of his hands "We can levitate your things up afterwards. Ready? You go first; I'll stay here and hold the rope steady."

Harry nodded and quickly approached the ladder. He had always wanted a tree house with a rope ladder just like this, but of course, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would never allow something like that in their back yard.

It was harder than he had thought it would be to climb, and the robe scratched unpleasantly against his skin, but it helped that Black was holding it, and the rush of adventure surpassed discomfort. When he reached the top, he grabbed hold of one of the branches and pushed himself inside.

It was completely bare except for a faded purple tent in one of the corners. He leaned over the side of the house to see that Black had already scrambled halfway up the ladder. Harry waited patiently, surveying the landscape with wonder. The view was even better than from the ground. When Black's head appeared, Harry extended his arm to help hoist his body over the edge, and then Black levitated Harry's belongings into the house. Hedwig was squawking and turning frantically, so, with Harry's permission, Black unlocked her cage and she flew over to a nearby tree.

He turned and faced Harry, the tension surrounding them strange in this tranquil environment. He was no longer smiling, but instead, his features were set, resolute. Each determined crease in his face seemed to focus toward the center, bracing to uncoil. He motioned for Harry to sit on the surprisingly soft and mossy floor while he disappeared into the tent. He returned a moment later with a large basin and two cokes and potato chip bags. He passed one set to Harry and sat cross-legged across from him with the other. To give them more light, he conjured a glowing sphere and adhered it to an overhanging branch.

"My Uncle was a bit obsessed with muggle food. He put preservation charms on everything, so it should be fresh, but don't be surprised if the coke's gone flat by now. I haven't been here since I was seventeen, and I doubt anyone else has either."

Harry gazed warily at the soda. He wasn't so much concerned about its fizziness as…other things.

"I haven't poisoned it, if that's what your thinking."

Black looked sincerely insulted. He had already finished his chips and was halfway through his own coke, and it hadn't been fifteen seconds.

"Here." Black, disgruntled, reached over to Harry's soda, popped open the lid and took a long swig before handing it back to Harry.

"Nothing wrong with it."

Harry tentatively took a small sip from the can, and let out a sigh of pleasure.

Black grunted in agreement.

He took a long sip from his coke can and then fixed his eyes on Harry.

"I'm going to be entirely truthful with you Harry. I want you to understand that. I know I haven't done anything much to earn your trust, but if you could just have a little more faith…I'll do my best to make this as quick and thorough as possible. There are some things that are better shown, then told, and that's what this is for." He indicated the basin. "It's called a pensieve. It allows a wizard to view a memory as if he were experiencing it himself. If you want, you can try it with one of your own memories first, to prove that it works, but I guarantee that it will. Many wizards use them to clear their minds and to make difficult decisions. I believe Albus Dumbledore possesses one himself."

Harry gestured for him to continue. He felt bad now for being so suspicious.

"Right. Well, I was born to a traditionally dark family, mostly Slytherins…Voldemort supporters. That's one reason why my uncle moved here: to get away from all of them. I was determined to do the same, so when I got to Hogwarts, I avoided my older cousins and stuck with kids I knew were from light families, like your dad. He and I got along instantly."

Black smiled sadly at Harry.

"You remind me quite a lot of James. He was always willing to go looking for a little bit of adventure…

"We, along with two other boys, formed the Marauders, one of the most troublesome, rebellious gang of jokesters Hogwarts has ever seen. We did everything together.

"We even became animagi together. We could each transform into an animal at will. It took a lot of time and research, so we didn't manage it until fifth year, but the benefits far outweighed the labor. We made up nicknames for each other based on the animals we turned into: Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, Wormtail."

Black had been gazing dreamily out into the darkness, resting his chin on his joined fists, but as he pronounced the last name, his back straightened and he stared intently at Harry.

"It is Wormtail who is to blame for all this. He betrayed your family to Voldemort and condemned me to eleven years of misery and mental torture."

Harry was startled by the bitterness of his tone. With his sudden passion, the carefree style of his speech altered, and he began to annunciate each new word clearly, as though with rehearsed delivery.

"Voldemort's rise to power terrified as all, forced us to do things we never would have contemplated, to examine every gesture and every word from even our closest allies for deceit."

He had begun to fold his chip bag in his agitation, collapsing it into a square the size of his thumbnail, but to emphasize his points, he would suddenly release it and jettison crumbs across the earthen floor.

"Dumbledore was convinced that Voldemort was after your family, so Lily and James decided to go into hiding under the Fidelius charm, which conceals the casters permanently and impenetrably. Only one person, their secret keeper, is aware of their location, and only he can reveal it. Dumbledore performed the charm, and your parents made me their secret keeper, Harry. Eight days later, Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow, murdered your parents, and gave you that scar."

Harry stood uneasily, his wand trembling in his hand.

"S-So what you're telling me is that you betrayed my parents to Voldemort. They died because of you? I don't understand." It didn't feel right. Logically, he felt that he should be furious right now, outraged at his parents' traitor, but the way that Black had told his story made it feel like there should be something more, a punch-line. He seemed too human, sitting there, suddenly calm, almost sacrificial, with his folded chip bag and his funky hat.

"You're lying, aren't you? You wouldn't be here if you'd done it. You would have killed me by now, or brought me to him..."

Harry was gaining confidence in his conviction.

"I've met him before, at the end of last year. He's cruel and unrelenting, and…and he doesn't provide refreshments to his prisoners after they've already been captured, so… unless Voldemort's hiding in there…"Harry pointed to the squashed purple tent. "…Which…which doesn't exactly seem like the kind of place he'd, you know, chose as his evil lair, or…" He had run out of things to say, desperately hoping that he was right, but fortunately, Black, who had burst into laughter, interrupted him.

"No need to worry about that. There are no evil dark lords hiding in that tent, although Uncle Alphard did have a rather extensive stuffed serpent collection."

He stood slowly and hesitantly approached Harry.

"You're right. I wasn't your parents' secret keeper. We thought I would be too obvious, so without telling Dumbledore, we reenacted the ritual with Wormtail as secret keeper, and he was the one who betrayed your parents to Voldemort. No one else knew of the switch, so when the news came that he had come for you, I was the obvious traitor."

Black gently placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and looked firmly into his eyes.

"I'm sorry Harry, for deceiving you, but I am largely responsible for your parents' death. I convinced them to choose Wormtail. I should have known better.

"When I found their bodies, I became enraged. I left you with Hagrid to track Wormtail down. I needed revenge. I caught up with him in the middle of muggle London in a crowded street, but rather than fighting, he shouted to everyone in the street that I had betrayed Lily and James. Then, he blew a gigantic hole in the ground, killed twelve muggles, and disappeared into the sewer as his rat animagus form."

"And you were blamed for it."

"Naturally."

Harry was beginning to believe that Black was actually telling the truth, but first…

"The memories, you said I could see."

"Right, umm…if you're sure. Some of them get kind of graphic, what with dismembered body parts and what not from the explosion, and…your parents..."

Harry suppressed a darting surge of panic at the image of his parents' dead bodies, but a morbid curiosity was growing within him.

"I think it's best if I see, just to be sure."

"Of course. This will just take a second." Black began to carefully draw silvery memory strands from the side of his head. He placed each lightly into the pensieve.

"I'll wait inside, if you don't mind. Experiencing them once was quite enough for me. You just, dip your face in and the pensieve will take care of the rest. If you need to leave before the memories are over, just will yourself to return."

Without hesitation, Harry approached the basin and plunged his face into the misty liquid.

-

Sirius stood next to the pensieve for a moment to make sure that Harry would be all right and slipped into the tent. It was an expanded two-bedroom tent that would easily fit them when cleared out, but at the moment, it was so cluttered with junk that there was hardly room to move around. The pantry was well stocked, and the preservation charms had been done by a master, but the abundance of useless magical artifacts and tacky collectibles (Sirius hadn't been joking about the snake collection) was overwhelming.

Sirius searched around in the kitchen until he found what he had been looking for in one of the cupboards and began to gather the ingredients he would need. He poured the mix into a bowl and added the water, vegetable oil, and eggs, which were surprisingly still fresh, and then he mixed it all together.

Once he had poured the mixture into two well-greased pans, he placed them into the magically improved oven and set the timer. The whole process had only taken twenty minutes, and he expected Harry to need at least an hour for all of the memories, so he headed grumpily to the living room and began to organize the piles of junk.

By the time Harry tentatively inserted his head into the tent doorway and gaped at the surprising size, Sirius was busy shoving a four-foot souvenir vase into one of the closets. When he realized that Sirius needed help, he rushed over to him, and together they struggled the pottery piece into place and locked the door so it wouldn't burst open. Panting, they smiled at each other awkwardly. Harry was the first to speak.

"I believe you now, and I'd be honored to have you as my godfather."

Sirius beamed at him.

"Harry…I…I meant to tell you this earlier, but I couldn't find the right time. Happy Birthday. We're a few hours behind here, so it's still technically your birthday."

Harry chuckled. "Honestly, I'd completely forgotten."

"So, could I perhaps interest you in a gourmet classic to celebrate: the ever famous Betty Crocker cake?"

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds great."

-

Harry looked up from frosting his side of the cake. Black, no Sirius, had decorated the bottom half in Vanilla Butter Cream frosting and the top in double chocolate decadence with chocolate chips sprinkled on top. It was delicious. They had done little for the past few minutes except gorge themselves on it.

The memories had been so overwhelming for Harry that his mind was still recalling the most vivid images, taking them apart, processing…It was nice to just sit and let his subconscious do its work.

There was no question in his mind that Sirius Black was innocent, but Harry still had some questions for him. There was so much that he could tell Harry about his parents and the year that Harry had lived with them.

"Harry." Sirius was looking at him intently.

"I want you to understand what you're getting into. Living with me will be dangerous; no matter what precautions we take. You must have friends that are eager to see you…that you miss. I don't want to make you do anything you don't feel comfortable with."

Harry smiled weakly at Sirius. "Do you know what I'd be doing right now if it weren't for you? I'd be sitting in that tiny room, all alone, thinking about how I'd never see my friends or do magic again. I love my friends, but they weren't able to help me, and they didn't. You did. And besides, I want to get to know my godfather better." Sirius smiled brightly at Harry, and Harry felt reassured that he wouldn't ask him again. He did love his friends, and he missed them dreadfully, but they both knew what it felt like to have a family that cared for them; Harry didn't. Now that he had the opportunity, he wasn't going to waste it.

"Well then, there are a couple of spells that I'll need to teach you to keep you safe. I don't want you to be defenseless against the Dementors. They're heinous bastards. You'll have to learn the-"

"Dementors?" Harry interrupted him.

"Oh," Sirius seemed surprised. "Dementors guard Azkaban. They're tall, grey, hooded- not human. They live off the suffering of others."

Sirius paused to cut another slice of cake.

"They were ideal for Azkaban. The Ministry's nothing if not sadistic."

He took a bite from his newly sliced cake and then continued.

"I would never have been able to escape if a squib weren't visiting me. They sent a human guard instead to make him feel more comfortable. All I had to do change into my animagus form and overwhelm them."

"What do you change into?"

Sirius smiled fiendishly at Harry. "A great, fearsome, monstrous, hulking, rabid canine, of course. You don't believe me? I'll show you."

Sirius's body began to morph, and within seconds, a tall shaggy black dog stood in his place. He stalked menacingly over to Harry, snarling and snapping his teeth, but when his jaws were a hand's breadth away, his slimy pink tongue lolled out from his mouth, and he licked the entire left side of Harry's face. Harry laughed and wiped the slobber off with exaggerated disgust.

Once Sirius had returned to his human form he asked, "So, what was my dad?"

"Ah," Sirius smiled wistfully, "Your dad was a stag. It fit him, too. He was a bit of a ladies' man until he finally convinced Lily to go out with him. Then, Remus transformed into a wolf, and I already told you Wormtail was a rat."

"So," Harry asked, "You told me, and I saw for myself in the memory, that when Wormtail escaped, he went down into the sewer. Did they ever find him, or could he be anywhere?"

Sirius leaned back into his chair and frowned at Harry.

"Honestly, Harry, I don't know. They definitely haven't caught him because then they would have known that I was innocent, but otherwise… There are millions, if not billions or trillions of rats in Britain alone, and for all we know he has moved to a different country, assumed a new identity. All that we know for sure is that he is missing a finger. He cut it off to prove to the Aurors that he had died."

"So," Harry said slowly, "What can we do to find him, to prove that you're innocent."

"Well, there isn't really anything that we can do, except wait. If they wouldn't give me a trial when they first brought me in, they won't now that I've kidnapped you.

"But, surely if I were to testify for you…"

Sirius interrupted Harry. "If you try to tell them that I'm innocent, they'll just think I've brain washed or enchanted you-something ridiculous like that. They won't believe it unless we have solid proof- Pettigrew. He's the only way, and there's absolutely no way to find him."

Sirius stood abruptly and moved over to one of the cupboards, taking out a glass and a fat bottle.

"Harry," he said, filling the glass half way with amber liquid, "I'm going to have a quick drink and then I'm headed to bed. Why don't you take the blue bedroom? It's less leaky in there." He looked up at Harry. "Alright? I'll see you in the morning."

Harry frowned curiously at him and then said a quick goodnight before heading into the slightly smaller of the two bedrooms. It was still easily twice the size of his Privet Drive bedroom and comfortably furnished with a large bed, a bookcase, two wardrobes, and a few scattered chairs. There were no windows, so light came from the ceiling and a small nightlight on the bedside table. Harry pushed off his shoes and crawled beneath the thick blankets. For a few minutes, he warmed himself and worried about Sirius still in the kitchen, but soon, exhaustion overcame him, and fell asleep.

A/N I have never been to Brazil or anywhere in the Amazon, although I would love to, so I'm sorry if my descriptions were inaccurate. I based them off of pictures I found on the Internet.