Retrieving food had been much easier than Sirius had expected. He had figured one swig of potion would be enough for about an hour of shopping, but it took Sirius less time than he had anticipated. It might have taken a little longer if he had not merely tossed item after item into the basket, but he had been in a hurry.

Sirius had wanted to hurry home to reduce his exposure, but he certainly had not anticipated sitting on his doorstep as he was currently doing. A little voice in his head, one that often seemed to make itself heard despite his unwillingness to listen to it, suggested that Sirius go inside without waiting for the potion to wear off. The boy probably had not left James' room; there was no need to sit in the sun when he could be inside.

But Sirius ignored the voice. He did not want any more trouble, having to explain things to the boy. Sirius had quite enough with his presence.

At the same time, there was something strange about having the boy there. Sirius felt... redeemed? No, not redeemed. He could never redeem himself. Nevertheless, he felt oddly calm. As long as Sirius kept his mind occupied with getting the boy to safety, his own inner turmoil was put aside.

There was, of course, a downside. As long as Sirius had the boy with him, he could not go out searching for his Harry. Not to mention, if Sirius was caught, he would likely take the blame for that boy's disappearance as well as everything that was already against him.

It was essential that Sirius figure out what he was going to do with the boy. It seemed Dumbledore was his best option, but Sirius was not sure he wanted to trust the old man with Harry. After all, Dumbledore had failed to protect his Harry. Why should Sirius trust him?

Sirius had no one he could turn to, no old friends who might believe him. No one whom he could be certain would look after little Harry. Sirius had another option: the Ministry. But Sirius had less faith in the Ministry than he could have even in Dumbledore. Lily and James would not have been forced to go into hiding if the Ministry had been more competent. If it had not been comprised of a bunch of idiots, they might have gone to work as soon as Harry disappeared. Crouch should have worked on finding Harry instead of imprisoning innocent people. If the imbecile had not been so damn obsessed with his reputation, he might have given Sirius a trial and a chance to prove himself…

Sirius' train of thought was interrupted when he saw movement in the park. The Death Eater was probably long gone, but Sirius did not want to take any chances. He looked down at himself and saw the potion wearing off as his hands became thinner and slightly less wrinkled. Sirius gave a great sigh of relief and stood up, standing in front of the door for only a minute before turning the doorknob. He really should have locked the door. Had he been in that much of a hurry that he had forgotten? Sirius shrugged. What was the point, anyway? No one knew the house was there.

Sirius made his way to the kitchen and set the bags on the table. Feeling daunted at the thought of having to put everything away by hand, Sirius walked quietly to the foot of the stairs and glanced up. Sure that he could risk doing magic; Sirius took out his wand and gave a little wave. Food began coming out of the bags and floating to its proper place. He looked everything over, considering his options. He waved his wand and set the eggs down on the table.

By the time Sirius had charmed the eggs to crack and beat themselves, the food had arranged itself neatly into the shelves. He put cooling charms on some of the more sensitive items and conjured a few things to make their dinner. The kid would have to settle for omelettes.

Sirius frowned. Where was the kid, anyway? With a flick of his wand, he stopped the fork that was beating the eggs.

"Harry?" Sirius called out, his voice strangely croaky.

No answer.

With his wand ready, Sirius climbed up the stairs as quietly as he could. The door to James' room was open, and light was pouring out of the room and into the dark hallway, changing colours in such a way that Sirius thought people might be duelling inside. When the light changed to a bright green colour, Sirius almost ran into the room. It took him a minute to remember colour televisions, and to realize the light must be coming from it. He waved his wand and the lights came on, lessening the effect.

Sirius frowned. Other than the light from the television, there seemed to be no indication that anyone was in the room. No sound, nothing. The house was much too quiet, especially since there was supposed to be a four year old in the house. Wand still ready, he walked towards the room quietly.

It was empty.

Sirius cursed. Loudly.

A little blond head popped out from the other side of the bed, effectively shutting Sirius up.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't get on the bed. It's rather high, and-"

Sirius glanced at the bed. It was entirely too tall, having a double mattress. James, who Sirius had always thought was rather spoiled, had insisted on having a great majestic bed just like the one he had in his room while growing up. He had not given up on this notion until after he had married Lily, and even then only because Lily fell off the bed on their first week as a married couple.

Sirius shook his head to clear it. He did not have time to be dwelling on the past. He considered using magic to fix it, but thought the boy might wonder.

"I...uh... I brought something for you to watch. It's downstairs, though. I brought them since they looked like very interesting cartoons."

The boy's eyes lit up and he seemed to forget his shyness for a second. "Really? What are they about?"

Sirius thought fast. "Uh... well, I don't want to ruin them for you."

Truth was Sirius had not even checked if they were age appropriate. In fact, he had decided which ones to buy based on how colourful the drawings on the box were. "Listen, we're having omelettes for dinner. What do you want on yours? Cheese? Sausage?"

Harry sat up straight, quite formal all of a sudden. "I suppose sausage would be fine, thank you."

A smile almost escaped Sirius, but instead he nodded and headed towards the door. "Sausage omelette, then. I have to warn you, I haven't cooked in years."

"What did you eat then?"

"What?" Sirius stopped and turned towards Harry, who quickly lowered his gaze.

"I'm sorry. Matt didn't like it when I asked questions either."

Sirius frowned, oddly reluctant to be compared to the Matt fellow. "I had a teacher who encouraged me to always ask questions. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Matt used to say stupid questions shouldn't be asked."

"Well, Matt can be wrong too. You should never be afraid to ask questions. Maybe knowing the answer will be important."

Harry seemed to ponder that all the way down the stairs. When they reached the kitchen he took a seat at the small table and was careful not to put his elbows on the table. Matt had had always hated that. Sirius went about, making the omelettes, and for a while neither of them spoke.

"So it's good to ask questions, right?"

"Err... most of the time, yes."

"Well, then, who are you?"

"I'm... That is to say, my name is…" Sirius thought for a moment. How could he possibly answer that? "Charlie Brown."

The boy was about to say something when he spotted the movies on the table. He gave them an odd look, but did not pick them up and Sirius thought nothing of it. He set two plates on the table and sat down.

"How old are you, kid?" Sirius asked as he looked the boy up and down. He could tell he was making the boy uncomfortable, but he needed to know.

"Uh... I'm six."

Sirius stared. Six? The boy was just the right age, too… but he was much too small for his age. Sirius had a sudden and oddly irresistible urge to stuff him full of food. Ignoring it, he picked up a fork. "What did you eat with Matt?"

Harry shrugged and tasted the omelette.

"Good?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded, and Sirius, who now had reason to believe the omelette was edible, took a bite.

"How come you haven't cooked in years?"

Sirius' eyebrows shot up. "I've been... gone."

"Oh," Harry answered simply. "Gone where?"

Sirius stifled a groan and answered, "I was in a different place, but I'm back now."

"Like a vacation?"

"Of sorts, I guess," Sirius answered awkwardly.

"So you didn't have to cook? That must've been nice," Harry said musingly.

"It wasn't really."

"Oh."

Silence.

"What's going to happen to me?" Harry finally said after a while.

"Uh... I'm not sure." Sirius answered frankly. He could only hope the boy would have a better future now than he would have had otherwise. And that Sirius had not been mistaken and kidnapped a boy with eccentric relatives.

"What's going to happen to the other man?" Harry asked, now fiddling with his fork and pushing the eggs around the plate.

Sirius looked up. "What other man?"

"The one Matt fought with before I came here."

Sirius almost wanted to laugh at Harry's delicate way of referring to his uprooting.

"We won't really know until someone talks to Matt and finds out where your parents are. But I think he'll be fine."

Sirius wanted to set the boy's mind at ease, but he had no clear cut answer for him. Normally, Sirius would probably have looked into it himself. The boy's question, however, gave him an idea. It was definitely risky, but if all went well, the boy would be safe with Dumbledore and he, Sirius, would be searching for his godson in less than forty-eight hours. They both finished their omelettes in silence.

Once Sirius was finished clearing the table, he handed the tapes to Harry, who only looked at him in a puzzled manner.

"Just figure it out on your own."

"What if I break something?"

"It doesn't matter, I'll fix it. But don't stay up all night watching those." Sirius, though feeling self-conscious at the familiar gesture, ruffled up the kid's untidy hair to make up for his lack of attention.

Harry nodded and headed up the stairs with the tapes while Sirius made his way to the writing desk in the drawing room.

Sirius would have to be very careful. He picked up a quill and began writing.

Professor Dumbledore,

I believe I know something that may interest you. I have a child with me by the name of Harry. While I cannot tell you how this came to pass, I can tell you that the child was in the company of what I believe to be a Death Eater. The boy knows nothing of his family or past, and I have reason to believe he was kidnapped at an early age.

I also have reason to believe there is renewed activity among former Death Eaters.

While I am not sure if the boy is a wizard or not, I believe it is in your best interest to meet him and evaluate the situation.

Sirius re-read his letter, trying to see if he had written anything that might give him away. He was sure it would have to do so he hastily scribbled a meeting place and time. He chose a muggle café inside a large shopping centre some distance from his house; he was not eager go to any place where there might be a large number of wizards present. It also had the advantage of being a full hour away from the Manor, enough of a distance that Dumbledore would not make the connection between Sirius' old house and the meeting place. Dumbledore would, presumably, not be armed in front of all those muggles, and Sirius would be able to blend into the crowd and watch from a distance.

As for the time, Sirius was torn between the next day and the day after that. He knew, of course, that the boy was in a reasonable amount of danger while he was with him. On the other hand, though he hated to admit it, Sirius was remembering what it was like to have human company, especially the company of someone who did not judge or fear him. It would be cruel to the boy, he reasoned, to make him feel unwanted and like he was being shunted off to some other place after all he had been through.

Furthermore, there was still a chance that Sirius had overreacted. Perhaps he should find out where the boy lived and wander out in his Animagus form. If he truly found something, he could give Dumbledore more details. Yes, he would need at least one more day.

The only problem then would be the boy. There was no way Sirius was going to risk going out without the Polyjuice Potion; he would have to think of something to explain his change in appearance.

It was truly ironic, Sirius mused, that he had a six year old boy named Harry in his custody. One with no discernible past, no less, when Sirius should be looking for a similar specimen. But this boy was entirely too different from the one Sirius was looking for. Sirius had seen Harry in the ruins of the house, had seen the gash on his forehead that Sirius knew would never heal properly.

Yes, it was ironic to be point of being cruel. The boy's name was probably not Harry at all.

Perhaps the boy knew more, thought Sirius. Some small detail he had failed to mention. Sirius himself felt like he was stumbling around in the dark. He had been gone for so many years and knew nothing of current events in the wizarding world.

Sirius ran up the stairs, determined to find out more about the boy's home and situation. He opened the door quietly, and found the boy sleeping on the rug. Sirius sighed and with a quick spell managed to remove much of the dust that had settled on the bed after his earlier cleaning efforts. It had been over five years since anyone had lived in the house, and Sirius could not seem to get rid of the thick layer of dust that covered everything. The curtains were already drawn, shutting out the fading sunlight.

Sirius pulled back the covers on the bed and picked up the small boy, setting him down carefully and removing his shoes. The boy curled up into fetal position and Sirius covered him with the blankets. For the second time since Sirius had found the boy, he felt like he had seen him before. His face was oddly familiar. And now, in James's old room, Sirius could almost swear that the kid looked like him. Sirius lifted his hand slowly and swept the blond bangs away from the boy's unblemished forehead once more.

Disgusted with himself, Sirius turned around and left the room.

Sirius was awoken sometime before dawn by a slight thumping sound. Mostly unencumbered by sleep now, he frowned and grabbed his wand from the nightstand. Sitting up as quietly as he could, he listened for something -anything- that might indicate someone other than himself, was in the Manor. The house was dead quiet, and just as Sirius was contemplating going back to sleep, he heard another loud thump coming from James's room.

Wand ready, Sirius jumped off the bed and rushed out of his bedroom and into the bedroom next door. The boy was crumbled on the floor.

"Ow."

Sirius could not help but grin as he put his wand away before Harry could see it. "What happened?"

Though he took the hand Sirius extended, the boy did not look up, obviously embarrassed. "I woke up and needed to use the toilet, but I forgot how tall this bed is. I grabbed on to the head-thing, but then I just kind of... slipped. I don't even know how I got on the bed, which kind of explains why I almost fell off, since I wasn't expecting to be on it."

Sirius nodded understandingly and smiled. He would have to do something about the bed, perhaps lower it while the boy was there.

"You wanted to use the bathroom?" Sirius asked as he handed Harry his shoes.

Harry nodded.

Sirius opened the door, led the boy outside, and pointed to a door at the end of the hall. He had not yet cleaned that bathroom, but Sirius doubted there was anything dangerous inside. Besides, the boy did not seem to be too curious. Sirius turned back to the bed and muttered an incantation to shorten the bed.

Nothing.

Sirius frowned. His wand could not be malfunctioning, could it? He closed his eyes, concentrating hard, and tried it again; still no effect on the bed.

Sirius then pointed the wand in question at the television and switched it on with a flick. He turned his wand on several of the toys he had transfigured earlier, both shrinking and enlarging as he went. The wand seemed to be working fine.

A genuine smile came over Sirius' face. James.

Of course. How many times had Sirius threatened to shrink that bed? The prat had probably charmed it somehow to make it impervious to shrinking charms.

Sirius sighed and conformed himself with transfiguring another horrible pink cushion into a stool for the boy to use. All the different things he had transfigured probably would not last very long, but they would last at least until Harry left. Sirius would hate for everything to convert back while the boy was still there. That would be very hard to explain, and disastrous because Harry seemed to be terrified of magic.

Sirius heard the flushing of the toilet and the soft footsteps heading towards the room. The boy- (Harry!) Sirius corrected himself- poked his head into the room, saw Sirius, stepped fully inside. In a curious display of energy Harry ran towards the bed and jumped onto the bed, using the stool as a stepping point at the last minute. He sat and turned to look at Sirius smiling almost expectantly.

Sirius smiled back and made to sit on the bed. The boy moved over slightly to give him room to sit.

"You didn't watch any of the television things I brought you?"

"I don't know how to put it on." Harry answered simply.

Sirius frowned. "Right… maybe we can figure them out tomorrow, right now it is best if you sleep."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sleepy, I don't know why."

Sirius yawned in complete disagreeance. "I suppose it's because you fell asleep so early, but it's not quite time to get up yet."

"I promise I won't make any noise. I'll just wait here until you wake up again," Harry said, grabbing a toy motorcycle from the nightstand and pretending it was flying through the air in front of him.

Sirius could not help but smile. "You know, I feel pretty rested too. Do you want me to stay and watch these for a little bit and see if you fall asleep?"

Harry looked up and smiled. "Yeah, okay! And maybe we could have snacks? But only if you don't mind," he added hurriedly.

"I don't know that I have too much in the way of snacks… I think I bought some biscuits earlier. I'll bring them up if you want."

Harry was looking at Sirius so curiously that it was unnerving him. Finally he smiled again and shook his head. "No, I'm alright."

Sirius picked up one of the tapes and went to work figuring it out. "I wanted to tell you earlier," Sirius said casually, "I found the man I told you about. The one that will help look for your family."

"Oh, is he coming tomorrow?"

"Err… no. He can't come here, you're going to go see him." Sirius answered, preoccupied with lifting a flap on the blasted muggle contraption and trying to look inside.

"Why is this man so important?" Harry asked.

"Well, Dumbledore knows a lot of people. He can find out if your parents… I mean, he'll find someone to take care of you."

"Will it take long?"

Sirius stopped and turned around to look at Harry. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "It might. If the man you saw was lying and your godfather didn't do anything wrong then…" Sirius trailed off awkwardly. Harry should not be returned to his guardian in any scenario.

The boy seemed to be reading his mind. "But you think Matt was bad, don't you? Because you didn't take me back to his house."

Sirius suddenly felt he understood. "Do you want to go back?"

Harry lowered his head. "I don't know if Matt would want me to come back after what happened. I think I was pretty bad. But if he didn't mind… do you think my parents will let me see him?"

Sirius was quite at a loss for words.

Harry, however, seemed to have more than enough words for the two of them; mostly in the form of questions. "Is everyone nice like you? If they think someone is bad or that something is wrong do they help? Is that just what people do?"

Sirius could only continue to stare, which quickly made Harry uncomfortable and the boy lowered his head again.

The following minutes were filled with an uncomfortable silence while Sirius half-heartedly fiddled with the tapes and thought about the poor boy's situation. Sirius could hardly believe Harry was so trusting, so optimistic about his possibly non-existent family, and so desperate for the approval of a man who might have been the one to take him from his parents in the first place. And just when Sirius thought he could not feel any worse, the boy spoke again.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" was Sirius' startled response.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure. But you're not happy. And I could never make Matt happy either. There's something wrong with me, that's why my family didn't look for me. Maybe I didn't make them happy either."

"No, Harry. You don't know why your family isn't around. Maybe they just don't know where you are."

Harry nodded. "Maybe."

Sirius walked back to the bed and sat next to Harry again. He knew exactly how the boy must feel, but he did not know how to make it better. Finally he settled on putting his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulling him closer for a friendly half-hug. "The best way to make the people around you happy," Sirius began, "is to be happy yourself. And if Matt wasn't happy it was his fault, not yours."

Harry looked up at Sirius and nodded.

Sirius pulled his arm away uncomfortably and took advantage that Harry was not looking to grab his wand behind his back and point it at the muggle invention he had been messing with. Lights flickered on and it spat out the tape.

"Oh, look," said Sirius, changing the subject, "I think it's working."

Sirius walked back to the television and resumed his task, inserting the tape according to the arrows on the flaps.

"So what's going to happen to me while this man looks for my parents?" Harry hesitated. "Will you… I mean, can I stay here?"

Sirius groaned inwardly. Harry was a great kid, certainly, but Sirius could not stay and play parent to him. Not only was Sirius in the worst possible conditions to raise a child; he also had a purpose of his own. Letting Harry stay with him would not do the boy any favours. It was likely he had a family somewhere, looking for him. And he, Sirius, had some searching of his own to do.

"The thing is, Harry," Sirius decided honesty was the best policy, "the man that is going to help you doesn't like me, and so we're not going to tell him you were with me. I have a friend who is going to come here to pick you up and take you to him." Sirius paused, for this was the part he had been worried about. "And then he'll find someone that you can stay with."

"Oh," was Harry's simple reply.

The television finally came to life, and Sirius saw colourful figures moving around the screen.

"But we don't have to worry about that until later, because tomorrow you're going to stay here and…" Sirius searched for something to say, "Maybe we can go buy you a radio."

Harry did not look at him, but Sirius heard what he suspected was a giggle. Sirius moved back to the bed and sat down. "Agreed?"

Harry nodded and leaned back against the pillows.

Sirius stayed with Harry, though he did not know why. They both sat quietly and watched the television until the boy had fallen asleep. Then Sirius, tired from everything that had happened since the night Lily and James had died, shuffled wearily back to his room and collapsed on the bed.

. ~ . ~ .

. ~ . ~ .

He ran.

It was all he could do; run.

He had no choice; it was not safe anymore. He wished he could transform and make better progress, but it was impossible. Someone might recognize him, and then it would all be shot to hell. He almost cursed his small Animagus form, but then he remembered how handy it had come in before. In fact, he would not be alive now if it had not been for his rat form.

Still, he wished he was making better time.

He did not know where to go exactly. Everyone believed him a traitor; they would kill him as soon as they laid eyes on him.

But Peter needed to convince the right people. There had been a noticeable rise in dark activity, and if the Dark Lord was returning, he would know that the Ministry had captured the wrong man. His master would know that Peter had run and abandoned him, and his master would hunt him down.

Though he was less than eager to face his old friends, it was better late than never.

Not to mention Sirius Black had escaped. And after his last encounter, Peter knew Sirius would kill him. But Peter was not going to give him the satisfaction. He had to find someone to protect him.

Lucius Malfoy had never been hot-tempered, and he was Peter's best chance. Malfoy was even tempered, but he was also cold blooded and manipulative. There was a chance he would listen to Peter, but there was no guarantee that he would not pull out his wand and Crucio him. In some aspects he was worse than the other, more extreme, followers of the Dark Lord.

Still, Peter would rather explain himself to someone like Malfoy than someone like Bellatrix. The latter had always been crazy and unhinged, and Peter knew it from experience; he had felt her wrath before. Thank heaven she was in Azkaban.

As soon as that thought came, however, Peter was struck by the irony of it. Heaven...?

He had all but aligned himself with the devil.

Nonetheless, he was grateful that Bellatrix was not around to spoil his plans. By the time she got out of Azkaban, for he was sure she and all of the Dark Lord's loyal followers would be broken out as soon as he resurfaced, Peter would have earned the trust of Malfoy and all the other important players in their little game. Even the Dark Lord would reward him.

Bellatrix would not be able to touch Peter... if everything went according to plan.