The week and a half between his release and paying Harry a visit had been busy, to say the least.
At one point he'd received a letter from Cornelius Fudge, clarifying the Minister's release of Sirius from Azkaban prison and alerting him he'd be receiving over 300,000 galleons for his wrongful imprisonment. Quite quickly, Sirius had found a place for himself; a decent sized home out in the countryside, not very far from Remus's own cottage.
The first time he had looked in a mirror after being released he had almost yelled out in shock. His once admittedly very handsome face was now gaunt and pale. He resembled a living skeleton, and looking at himself for too long gave him the chills. Now he was beginning to fill back out as he was eating normally, and he'd had his long, tangled and dirty hair cut. He was slowly looking more like his old self, like an actual person, with each new day.
His release had been publicized almost immediately: Sirius Black, convicted mass-murderer, declared innocent and freed of all charges. Judging by all the gawking stares and panicky reactions of folks, not everyone was wholly convinced he wasn't a maniacal Death Eater ready to blow up an entire street. He'd chosen to ignore the stares and hushed whispers when he'd gone to retrieve money from Gringotts and done his shopping in Diagon Alley. He felt almost like a corpse walking among the living, at times, as though he didn't quite belong in these people's world.
At the very least, he'd had Remus along with him whenever he'd make trips out to the public. Having his old friend near had helped things immensely- they'd quickly gone back to acting as their old selves around each other, joking and laughing as they had in their more carefree days. A tiny amount of distance remained between the pair, however, as though a very thin, almost invisible wall existed between them. Sirius knew there were still things that probably needed to be said. In the months leading up to the night Sirius was locked away, the two hadn't been on good terms; they'd been suspicious and untrusting of one another. He hoped the discomfort would go away with time. Moony was one of the only friends he had left. The only best friend he had left.
And then there was Pettigrew. Hatred for the rat continued to ebb within Sirius, and he carried it with him everywhere he went. He could not stop the way he stiffened at the mere mention of the man's name. Though he knew the vermin would be getting what he deserved, the knowledge of his crime still filled Sirius with unadulterated rage. He'd had strong wishes to be the one to kill him, to exact his revenge and finally gain some closure on the matter- but he had to repeatedly remind himself to stop thinking about it. He'd done enough of that in Azkaban, and now, the matter was out of his hands.
For now, he needed to try and remember how to be normal. He had to try to pick up his life where he'd left off, if that was even possible. That was probably one reason he was so eager to see Harry again.
While shopping for himself, he had also picked up a Christmas gift for his godson. Christmas was nearly two weeks away still, but he was hoping to stop and see the boy before then, in case his family was planning on being gone for the holiday. Uncertain about what exactly a three year old would even like, he'd settled on buying a miniature toy Quidditch set. It included small cartoonish figures of the Chudley Cannons' players.
Never too early to get the boy on the right track and liking the right teams, he'd thought smugly.
And now, a week and a half after his release, here he stood anxiously at the door of number 4 Privet Drive. He knocked the door, shifting his weight from one foot to another and holding Harry's wrapped present in one arm.
He heard muffled voices from inside the house, and moments later was greeted by a large, puffy-faced man. Sirius blinked. The fellow must have been about the size of a baby whale.
"Why, hello, how may we help you?" the man- Vernon, wasn't that his name? - asked him loudly. A blonde, horse-faced woman wearing an apron appeared behind him with a sugary smile.
Petunia, Sirius presumed. Lily clearly got the good end of the gene pool, he thought to himself as he noted how abnormally long the woman's thin neck was. He summoned up his most charming smile for the couple.
"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, is it? So sorry for stopping by unannounced, but I... I was friends with your sister, Lily." He nodded his head at Petunia, whose face at once dropped it's smile and turned a curious shade of pink.
"I'm Harry's godfather, and I was wondering if I could pay him a visit."
Petunia had pressed her lips together and now looked appalled. Vernon's face was turning an odd color as well. Sirius switched his gaze between the two of them, raising a brow.
"The boy's godfa- you want- y-you're one of them!" Vernon spat, the rolls on his chin quivering. He stuck a stubby finger into Sirius' face.
Sirius blinked at Vernon as if he'd grown another head, bewildered by the drastic change in demeanor. "One of who, now?"
Petunia hurried off into a different room, and Vernon continued to glare furiously at him. "Your kind… is not welcome here. It's bad enough of your lot to leave the little freak on our doorstep, and take advantage of the kind and loving people we are-"
"Oy!" Sirius exclaimed, his bafflement quickly morphing into anger. "My kind? 'The little freak'? How dare you-"
"-and if the boy had a bloody godfather this entire time, tell me, why on earth are we stuck with him?" Vernon roared, spittle flying from his mouth. "Graciously bringing him into our home, giving him a roof over his head and giving him our food, none of which he deserves! All the while putting up with his freakish antics-"
The man stopped suddenly as a wand was pointed dangerously near his face. His eyes bulged and his jaw snapped shut, and he started to sweat profusely.
"You'd be wise to shut your mouth now, Dursley, while I've still reason to refrain from hexing you right through the wall," Sirius warned, his tone forcibly calm, though his pulse had quickened with Vernon's words. Had he heard the raving brute correctly? The man, for whatever reason, had the gall to insist that a three year old didn't deserve his own family's roof and food?
Grimly satisfied with Vernon's silence, Sirius lowered his wand, running a hand irately through his hair. He saw Petunia in the other room, shooing the fattest little boy he'd ever seen away from the scene. He was licking chocolate off of his pudgy hands. Overhearing Petunia's muttered "Come along, Duddkyins, let's get far away from the strange man," Sirius noted -with some relief- that that was not Harry.
He turned his focus back to Vernon, who looked half frightened out of his wits and half enraged. Just as Sirius opened his mouth with the intention of asking 'now, if you would kindly lead me to my godson, you fat oaf', a tiny head peeked out from the other room.
This little head, whose raven hair was messy and sticking up wildly, just like James', and whose eyes were a startlingly bright green, just like Lily's, was watching Sirius with curiosity.
The trembling whale of a man in front of him momentarily forgotten, Sirius met his godson's gaze, feeling his face light up with a grin. "Hi, there," he said, stepping a bit closer to the boy. His eyes were drawn to the scar on the child's forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt, and the sight brought him a pang of regret.
Harry Potter looked uncertainly from this stranger, to his uncle, and back to the stranger. Seemingly encouraged by Sirius' warm expression, he offered a shy smile in return. "Hi."
Sirius was overcome with affection as he took in the sight of Harry. The kid was beautiful, truly the best of both of his parents. Unexpected warmth sprang to his eyes, and he quickly blinked it away in surprise. Clearing his throat, he knelt before Harry and held out his gift with one arm. "Merry Christmas to you, Harry. I've brought an early gift. I'm your godfather; my name is Sirius Black."
Though Harry likely had no idea what a 'godfather' was, he was certainly eyeing the present with interest. As he reluctantly stepped into the room, Sirius was made aware of his godson's clothes being about four times too large.
"A present?" Harry repeated. He stared up at Sirius incredulously, and Sirius would've probably found his dramatic expression amusing if he weren't struggling so with keeping his anger at bay.
Vernon seemed to find courage enough to speak again, as he abruptly rounded on Sirius. "If whatever you're giving him has anything to do with-with-magic," he hissed, "the boy will not be taking it. We don't tolerate that nonsense in this house."
Little Harry, ever wary of his uncle's raised voice, backed up a bit.
"Nonsense?" Sirius repeated in a clipped tone, eyes drawn to Harry's fearful face. "Your nephew is magical, Dursley. That 'nonsense' is the world he belongs to." So, his nagging doubts about this household had been confirmed. He'd obviously been wrong, holding out hope that Petunia's family had changed any, that they had found it in their hearts to love Harry.
Harry was not loved here.
The thought was enough to make him feel ill. This family, and the way they paraded around their obvious disdain for Harry, and spoke as though his mere existence was some awful burden, had been Harry's caregivers the past couple years. What in the hell had Dumbledore been thinking, plopping Harry off with these ogres? Had the man gone completely senile? This family's dislike for magic folk, especially for Harry it seemed, could not have been a secret- they were about as subtle as a blaring horn. He would most definitely be having a little chat with his old headmaster, and very soon.
Petunia entered the room, panicked, and the two men turned. "Our little Dudders is throwing up all over the place, Vernon! Right after I took him away from Harry, he complained of being strangely ill. I think that that child has done something..."
Pointedly ignoring Sirius' presence, Petunia shot Harry a venomous glare of accusation. The child froze in place.
"Boy, I've just about had enough of you," Vernon ground out and, seeming to forget Sirius' threats, reached for Harry with a beefy arm, "and now your weirdness is affecting Dudley...!"
Harry flinched at the same time that a shocked Sirius made to quickly move in front of him.
"Oh, for God's sake!" he snapped, now a protective barrier between Harry and his uncle. "You're joking, right? I mean, you lot must just be complete nutters, right? Blaming the fact that your son is throwing up on the supposed abilities of a toddler? Your piglet son is probably sick from all the bloody candy I just watched him inhale!"
This was ridiculous. Damn the blood wards and whatever else Dumbledore had said. Harry living here was, quite obviously, not the best option.
"I've seen enough," he raged, "and I've been here perhaps five minutes. I'm taking my godson and leaving; you people clearly don't deserve him. Harry," he turned to the small boy, who was biting his lip anxiously. His feet had remained glued to the spot.
"Would you like to come and be with me, instead, Har?" Sirius asked hurriedly, trying to adopt a gentler tone. A nagging voice in his head warned that he was rushing into things- it sounded suspiciously like Remus- but he ignored it, as per usual. At the moment he just wanted Harry the hell out of here, and he was not about to sit and wait for someone else's approval to do it. "We... can open your present elsewhere. I know, I know you wouldn't remember me, but..." He took deep breaths in an attempt to quell his rising temper. "I loved your mother and father very much. Just as I love you."
Harry's eyes were wide as saucers, taking in Sirius carefully, seeming to decide that this man was not all that scary to speak with. "Love me?" he repeated, searching Sirius' face skeptically.
"Yes, you, Harry," Sirius told him firmly, his throat beginning to feel clogged. "Very, very much, in fact. Would you like to come with me?"
Harry looked to his aunt and uncle, seemingly unsure if they would allow this. They stared at him and at each other with ticking jaws.
"It is about bloody time. Go with him, boy, and good riddance," Vernon muttered.
Sirius exhaled quickly from his nose, hand twitching with the need to punch the man square in the face. A small tug on his sleeve caused him to stiffly turn his gaze downward, where green eyes were focused on the item still being clutched in Sirius' hand. Harry's face held the beginnings of a timid smile.
"I'll get a present?" he inquired again. Sirius breathed out a short laugh, despite himself; apparently that was an important part of the child's decision.
"Yeah, you'll get the present. And lots more, as it's Christmas very soon," he winked, a bit absently. Harry's smile grew.
"What do you say, Har?"
"Okay." Harry was beaming now. Sirius allowed himself a small grin.
"Great. Great, Harry! Now, you want to go and grab some of your things, bud? We should be on our way quickly, so that we may be out of your delightful relatives' hair," Sirius threw at the family scathingly. Harry nodded vigorously and cautiously rushed past a tight lipped Petunia to a cupboard under the stairs. He opened it and leaned inside until all Sirius could see were his tiny legs.
Puzzled, Sirius looked from this to the Dursleys, who were eyeing both him and the cupboard with a hint of fear.
"Erm... Harry, is there something in there that you want to bring along?" Sirius asked, tearing his eyes away from the family's sudden peculiar behavior. All of Harry reappeared after a moment, his hands full with little toy soldiers.
"My toys," he told Sirius matter-of-factly, and Sirius smiled at him.
"Very nice. Is there anything from your room you'd like to bring?"
Harry looked to the toys cupped in his hands and then back at Sirius. "My room!" he gestured his clasped hands to the cupboard. "Got all my toys."
Sirius, staring dumbly at the toys, took a moment to realize what Harry meant. "You've... kept him in your broom cupboard?" he ground out. The way Vernon shifted uncomfortably, Sirius guessed that he must have currently looked every bit the murderer that the newspapers had portrayed him to be. Petunia, however, raised her chin defiantly.
"We've done more for the boy than we ever needed to," she informed him coldly, and Sirius' vision went red. "You should be leaving, now. You've long overstayed your welcome, and I have a darling little boy to look after. The further you both end up from this house, the better." She turned on her heel and scuttled off to retrieve her soon.
Sirius threateningly strode towards Vernon before halting, forcing himself to take long, shaky breaths; how he had not yet literally exploded at this point, he was most uncertain. He felt as though several blood vessels in his head might pop. James' and Lily's son, their baby, treated little better than a house elf. He forced Vernon to meet his gaze. "This will be the last time you see Harry, but not the last time you see me," he warned lowly. Vernon looked infuriated by the threat but Sirius already had his back to him, unwilling to waste any more time on the man.
This was about Harry. All of it was.
The little boy had just emerged from his cupboard once more, dragging a pillowcase to place his few toys in. Sirius tried to muster up a smile as he reached out a hand.
"Ready to go, kid?"
Harry nodded and, hesitantly, grabbed one of Sirius' fingers. He clutched his pillowcase to his chest and timidly looked back at his relatives, who were now all gathered in a huddle to watch the pair with narrowed eyes. Dudley did look rather green.
"Bye bye," he said softly, and he was met with dead silence. Sirius clenched his jaw so tightly he was surprised he didn't break a tooth. He gave them all one final, heated glare before turning his heel to lead his tiny godson right out the door.
Yes, he decided; before stopping home, he would very much like a chat with his dear old headmaster.