Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me.
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"I wanna go too!" Celine wailed. Big tears ran down her cheeks. "Mummy, Mummy, take me too!"
Allicot knelt in front of the inconsolable toddler. "Don't cry, pet. Harry and I will be back in a few hours," she soothed. "This isn't a place for little bitty girls." Celine sniffled. Her mother smoothed her cheek. "You can go play with Daddy today, all right? Just for an hour or so. Promise you'll be good?"
Celine pouted. "Okay," she said, rubbing her nose. "I'll go play with Daddy."
Allicot petted her head, then turned to the solemn-eyed Harry. "Put your cloak on, precious, we have to go," she coaxed. She tied the emerald-green cloak around the toddler and pulled the hood over his head.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"A special, secret place," Allicot said as she set Harry on her hip and reached for the vase of Floo powder. "Now, you can't tell anyone about this, all right? It's a secret."
"Secret," Harry repeated.
"Right," Allicot said. She took the silvery green Floo powder, tossed it in the fire, and stepped into the flames. Harry's small fingers dug into her shoulder as she spoke two words.
"Azkaban Prison."
The warmth of Allicot's study faded away into the thick coldness of Azkaban. She unconsciously held Harry closer to her as she approached the front desk. "Keep your hood, love, you'll stay warm," she murmured. She just didn't tell him that it would hide the telltale scar.
"Who're ye ta see?" the man barked. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his big hairy arm, smearing grime.
"Sirius Black," Allicot said, striving to keep her tone even and confident.
The man leaned forward on his elbows, squinting up into her face. She clutched Harry tighter and resisted the urge to breathe, avoiding his rotten smell. "Black, eh?" The man belched a noxious cough smelling of colcannon and rifled through the dirty parchment pages of the records book. "'E ain't had no visitors in these four years."
"It's official business," Allicot said. She held out her heather wood wand and tapped it against the palm of her hand. The emblem of a phoenix appeared, glowed a brilliant red for a moment, and vanished.
"Eh, wit' a trick like that…" The man rubbed his five-day greasy stubble. "I'll letcha in."
"And no dementors," Allicot said quickly.
"No dementors?" he repeated, peering at her. For the first time he noticed the child in her arms. "'Ere, wotcher do wit' 'im?"
"He's mine," Allicot lied desperately. "I couldn't leave him at home. Please, the dementors would only frighten him. I have the permission of the Order of Phoenix to visit the prisoner Sirius Black, alone."
"Can't leave a lady alone wit' 'im," the man snorted. "I'll hafta-"
Allicot pulled a small sack of coins out of the pocket in her cloak's inner lining. "Take this, then, in exchange for time alone with the prisoner, and no dementors."
He took the purse in his hands and weighed it. "Eh, I'll fetch 'im," he said. "Fifteen minutes, mind. No more."
"Thank you," Allicot said, relieved. She patted Harry's back, reassuring him, as the man led her down the winding passageways to the cell. Her heart beat faster. She hadn't seen Sirius in years. How much has he changed?
"Fifteen minutes," the man grunted. He unlocked the cell, ushered Allicot in, and closed it behind her.
Harry whimpered, his cheek pressed against the curve of her neck. She brushed the hem of the hood and kissed his forehead as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"Sirius?" she whispered.
A black shape in the corner shifted. Invariably she jerked back, her arms tightening around Harry. The black form lurched towards her, and suddenly it altered itself into the definable shape of a tall, thin man with dark shaggy hair.
"Who is it?" the prisoner demanded hoarsely.
Allicot pushed back her hood, her pale blonde hair spilling around her shoulders. "Sirius, it's me," she said. "Allicot, remember?"
She was suddenly caught up in a tight hug. "Little Allie," she heard him breathe. "My little darling. My beautiful little darling." His hands, rough and callused, were as gentle as a mothwing against her hair.
"Don't, Sirius, don't," she murmured, pressing her free hand against his tear-wet cheek.
Sirius stepped back as he realized she was holding a child. "Who is this?" he asked.
Allicot tipped back Harry's hood and smoothed his hair. "Your godson," she said softly. "Harry, I want you to meet someone very special. This is your godfather, Sirius. He was your daddy's best friend."
Bright green eyes meet soft slate ones. "Harry," Sirius whispered.
Harry blinked. "My daddy's dead," he stated.
"I know," Sirius said.
Suddenly Harry leaned towards him, holding out his small arms. Sirius picked him up and cradled him against his chest, stroking his fingers through the child's dark hair. The little boy wrapped his arms around his neck.
Sirius looked at Allicot, his eyes aching. "I didn't kill them, Allie, I didn't," he pleaded.
She placed a small pale hand on his arm. "I know," she said. "I've always known."
"Why can't the Order free me?" Sirius asked.
"I'm trying everything I can, but with Pettigrew-"
"He's not dead, Allie, he staged everything," he burst out. "You believe me!"
"I do, I do believe you, Sirius," she reassured. "But without Pettigrew in the flesh, no one else will." She smoothed her hand up and down his arm, the muscles and tendons jutting out in strange rhythms. "I'm looking for him. I'll have you free and clear as soon as possible."
Sirius fell silent. Harry pressed his head against his heart, listening to the comforting beats. "How have you been, Allie-love?" he asked. "I heard about the marriage your parents arranged for you."
She ducked her head. "He's a gentleman," she said. "A good man. A kind man." Allicot looked up. "But he's not you."
He stroked the curve of her cheek. "And your little one?" he whispered. "Is she a little beauty like her mother?"
"Even more so," she answered. "Healthy and strong and beautiful."
"But she'll never be as angelic as you are," Sirius said. He traced her lips lightly.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the hall. "Fifteen minutes!"
Allicot reached for Harry. "Come on, love, it's time to go," she said.
"No!" Harry wailed. He tightened his death grip on Sirius's neck. "I wanna stay! I wanna stay!"
Sirius kissed the sharp scar. "Go with Allie," he said. "I'll come back for you. I promise that I will come back for you."
Harry sniffled, wide-eyed. "You swear?" he hiccupped.
Sirius locked his big pinky with Harry's tiny one. "I swear," he smiled. The toddler allowed himself to be handed back into Allicot's arms. She readjusted his hood, pulling it over his forehead.
"Goodbye, Sirius," Allicot said.
He cupped her face in his hands. "One last kiss," he begged. "A last memory of you. It can keep me alive for years."
She lifted her chin and pressed her soft lips against his, kissing him softly, innocently. His gray eyes were glowing with happiness as he pulled away. "Goodbye, angelface," Sirius said with the old bravado he was famous for.
Allicot started to smile, to reply, but the door croaked open. "That's sixteenminutes!" the man barked. "Come on, come on."
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