It's taken a while for me to update this story; I finally got around to it. And yes, James and Lily did die; I figured that it would have been difficult for them to escape, because I don't believe it was because of Harry that they didn't escape last time. In my opinion, there were probably anti-apparation wards; they didn't know how to make a portkey, or something similar to that nature.

But that's just in my story at the very least.

And I hope to update again soon, this wasn't my favorite chapter, but… it's something. And the "hastily transfigured doll" from the last chapter will come back, and it does mean something.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

His motorbike sputtered in the air. "Goddamn it!" Sirius slammed his hand against the right handlebar, jerking the bike sideways with his exclamation.

Harry's cries soon joined the silent night.

Sirius only held his godson tighter, landing the motorbike rather roughly onto the ground as he blinked furiously, trying to wake himself… to convince himself to wake at Remus' kitchen, laughing at the dream… to get that bloody wetness out of his eyes!

But no, it didn't work. The young man merely stood off the side of the road, in the middle of no where, with the small fifteen month old child screaming at the top of his lungs at his godfathers (scratch that – guardians) care.

He still didn't know what James and Lily had been thinking when they –

He choked on another sob.

"We've got to go baby…" But he didn't move. He continued to sit on his bike, Harry screaming himself to sleep as he stared listlessly into the toddler's inky black hair…

Sirius knew enough to know that he wouldn't be high profile. People would watch out for him, probably attack him if they knew (not that they didn't anyway, nearly anyone would attack any Black that they came across, Sirius couldn't blame them), but they wouldn't actively look for him. And Harry would be declared missing and shoved into some back closet in the ministry. They wouldn't deal with some missing kid when people were dying left and right, when muggles were coming so much closer to the truth…

"We've got to…" They had to leave. Even if no one would actively look for him (except maybe Remus who would be after his blood), sitting still right after the attack was stupid.

And Sirius conveniently pushed the thought of that doll-like Harry from his mind. The words, echoing and strange, not like Harry's usual child-like babble…

He could ponder that another time, another place…

For now, he had to go. "I'll have enough for a few miles." Sirius muttered to himself, making sure that Harry was still secure before revving his bike back up. The gas would suit him well for the next few miles, until he had to stop for more – hopefully they'd make it to a town in time.

Not that he had much hope for that.

Thankfully, the child fell into a listless sleep under the rumbling over the motorbike. His wails turned into silent breaths – the headache that'd been forming behind Sirius' eyes began to recede somewhat as he pushed the recent events out of his mind.

He'd not be able to actively fight against Voldemort anymore, that was for sure.

But, besides that, he didn't, couldn't, understand… well… anything, really. It hurt.

Why did he want James and Lily? What was that look that the two of them shared only earlier that night…?

But that hurt… James and Lily… dea– but he couldn't. Admitting it would make it real. He couldn't make it real. It wouldn't help. If anything it'd hurt. It'd hurt Harry, it'd hurt himself…. He couldn't admit it.

James wasn't allowed to die.

James wouldn't die unless he was sure Lily would be okay. That Harry would be…

But they both knew that Harry was with him. Harry was safe, for all intents and purposes… He was away… and… "You're next…"

He was thinking.

He couldn't think.

"Harry…"

That's all that mattered now.

"We'll be there soon," he muttered softly, gathering his thoughts, expelling his thoughts. He'd think on them another time. He'd stop crying soon. He'd stop hurting soon.

He could see the buildings in the distance.

With a new sense of direction, he continued on. It'd only take a few minutes; he had enough gas to make it to the town, hopefully to the next gas station. And he had enough money on his person to lay low here for a few days before he had to stop for more galleons.

He'd have to exchange some more galleons for pounds too.

But that was later; he'd have to wait at least a month for everything to calm down. And that was only if nothing large happened, nothing that would distract the wizarding community to its core. It wouldn't be surprising if it did. Large muggle killings, getting more creative, more brutal, by the minute were occurring.

The buildings were closing in.

Sirius realized with a start that it was London. He hadn't realized that he'd flown for that long… Harry barely made a peep the entire ride… but a small sneeze brought his attention back to his godson and he worriedly applied another warming charm. "You okay bud?" He refused to acknowledge the fact that his voice broke.

But the child only giggled, not knowing that his father was dead, that his mother wouldn't sing to him any longer… Harry pulled at Sirius' hair.

If he remembered right, there would be a gas station at the next street over. Only a few minutes away, thankfully.

He turned that direction with ease, following the road, the buildings flying by them. Harry wriggled in his grip, but the sticking charm held true, keeping him pressed against his godfather's chest. That didn't manage to calm the boy's whimpers as he attempted to move away from the man, to the ground, to play…

Harry cried into the night once again.

He approached the gas station, its neon light glowing in the otherwise dark night. And the strange glances and talks of "you shouldn't drive a kid on a motorcycle," Sirius just about had it.

And Harry still hadn't stopped crying.

And they needed a place to stay.

He sincerely hoped that it wouldn't be like this the entire week.