Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

Chapter Ten

Harry woke up with a start. He didn't know what it was he had been dreaming about but it wasn't pleasant. He took in several deep breaths to calm himself and slow his frantic heart rate back to normal. Gradually, he relaxed and the fog of sleep lifted from his mind. That's when he realised his left arm was strangely numb. Looking over, he saw why.

Damien was fast asleep, his head on Harry's arm, snuggled close to his side.

The sight made Harry smile, even though a part of him was annoyed that the boy spent the entire night, squeezed into his side. With his free hand, Harry reached over and shook Damien's shoulder.

"Damy?"

Damien didn't stir.

"Damien?" Harry tried, a little louder, "Damien, get up." Harry shook him a little harder and Damien's hazel eyes cracked open.

"Hmm?" he enquired, sleepy-eyed.

"It's morning," Harry told him, "you can get up now."

"Hmm, kay," Damien murmured, before his eyes slid shut again and he went back to sleep.

Harry frowned.

"Damy?" he called but there was no reply, "Damy!" he yelled.

Damien shot awake with a disgruntled yelp.

"Wha-?"

"Get up!" Harry snapped.

"A'right, a'right," Damien groaned but all he did was turn over and go back to sleep.

At least he had freed Harry's trapped arm. Harry sat up, rubbing at his tingling arm, trying to get rid of the pin and needles sensation.

"You not getting up?" Harry asked.

Damien muttered something intelligible but didn't move.

"Suit yourself." Harry sighed and slipped out of the bed.

He stepped into the hallway, heading towards the bathroom when he heard the faint voices from downstairs. He suddenly paused, goosebumps erupting all over him. Last night came screaming back and Harry felt his blood run cold. He had given his pensieve to his parents.

They had gone into it.

They had seen his childhood.

They knew.

Harry had the urge to run back to his room and lock the door. He didn't want to face his mum and dad. He didn't want to see their reaction. What would they say to him? How would they react around him now? Could they even stand being around him? Would the pain of knowing how horrendously abused Harry was prove too much for them?

Harry mentally kicked himself. Why had he given in yesterday? He shouldn't have handed them his pensieve. He should have lied, should have carried on pretending, should have done...anything. Anything that would keep his past hidden. But he had broke under his parents' pleading. He couldn't look his mum and dad in the eye and lie one more time. He had to give them answers but now, he was terrified of the consequences.

Steeling himself the best he could, Harry pushed himself towards the bathroom, so he could wash. The longer he could stall facing his parents, the better.

xxx

Three mugs of coffee sat infront of the adults, but none of them were drinking. None of them were in the state to stomach anything, food or drink. Sirius stared from James to Lily, his eyes red-rimmed, mouth dropped open in silent horror as his mind repeated what his friends had told him. He shook his head again.

"Why?" the question came out as a scratching sound from his dry throat, but still he didn't reach for his drink, "why would he do...this? Why? What did Voldemort get from playing such a sick game?"

James drew his head up from his folded arms but didn't speak. He didn't have the answers, only questions. Hundreds and hundreds of questions; why Voldemort did this? What else did his poor Harry go through? How Harry was treated after he supposedly 'ran-away' from his parents and started living with Voldemort? What Voldemort hoped to gain from torturing a mere child? What other sick and twisted lies had Voldemort fed into Harry's young innocent mind?

His bloodshot, hazel eyes moved to the black bowl, sitting in the middle of the table. He knew some of his answers may lie in there but James wasn't going to go back in. He wasn't brave enough to delve back into the horrors that was his son's childhood.

Last night, all he had seen, all he had witnessed, had left him changed forever. His eyes were shadowed now, as if the sight of his bleeding three year old son had darkened them. His lips were stripped of their usual mischievous smile, as if the cries of his baby boy had made him forget how to smile. The lines on his brow told of the mental anguish James was suffering, after witnessing the torture of his infant child. James was no longer straight backed and proud. He was sitting in his chair, hunched and stooped over, as if the sound of Harry's pleading and begging had broken him.

Lily wasn't any better. Her shock and pain mirrored that of her husband but even Lily, possessing the bleeding heart of a mother, couldn't feel the extent of pain James was enduring. The main culprit in all of Harry's memories was James. It was James that beat him. James that screamed abuse at him. James that towered over the three year old and threatened to break every bone in that tiny body. It was all James.

"He wanted Harry to hate me," James murmured, half in answer to Sirius' question and half in answer to his own, "he pretended to be me and...and hurt Harry, just so my son would hate me." he shook his head, "how low can a person fall, to do such a thing?"

"Voldemort's not a person," Sirius objected, "he's a monster!"

"He is a monster," Lily said quietly, "what he did...everything he put Harry through..." she was shaking her head, eyes closed tight, "oh God, Sirius! I can't even...even tell you." she dropped her head into her hands, fighting against the onslaught of tears again.

Her child was only fifteen months old when Peter stole him and handed him over to Voldemort. It was from that age onwards that Voldemort hurt him. Lily's very soul ached at the thought. Her child, her baby, her Harry, defenceless and vulnerable, at Voldemort's mercy and this is what that monster did? Tortured him day and night under the pretence of being James.

"We should have worked this out," Sirius said, shaking his head at his own stupidity, " I mean, we've all been wondering, even if we've never spoken out loud about it," at James and Lily's questioning look, Sirius elaborated, "why Voldemort never...you know...killed Harry?"

James and Lily bristled but their expressions changed to show understanding.

"I was confused," Sirius admitted, "I couldn't figure out why Voldemort would allow Harry to live, when he knows that Harry is the prophesied one, possibly the only one that can destroy him," his eyes showed his pain as he continued, "but now, it makes sense. He let Harry live and did this...this sick act to make Harry turn against his true family. That way, he comes out looking like the only one who..." he faltered, unable to say the word. With great effort, he forced the word out, "...who cares for Harry," he pulled a face, muttering curses under his breath, "sick son-of-a-bitch!" he looked up at James, "we should have asked why? Why Voldemort let Harry live? Why he didn't kill the chosen one? If we had, we might have learned all this sooner."

James shook his head in self-incrimination.

"Why didn't I see it?" he asked, his voice so low it sounded like a whisper, "why couldn't I read the signs? The first morning he ran out from here. Why didn't I figure out it was something about this house that scared Harry?" he shared a look with Lily, who looked just as guilty as he felt, "why didn't I question why Harry refused to go into the kitchen? Why did I just accept it and not push for answers?"

"Because you're a good dad, that's why." Sirius comforted, "you were giving Harry space and time to adjust. You were doing right by him."

"Right by him?" James' eyes hardened, "I was living my life while my son was beaten bloody every day! I was having a great time with my wife and with Damy while Harry was living a nightmare! What right have I done by him, Sirius? Nothing, nothing at all!"

"You didn't know Harry was even alive," Sirius argued, "don't blame yourself, blame that bastard that did this! Blame Voldemort."

"It's my face that Harry remembers," James said, his voice breaking at the revelation, "he thought it was me that hurt him. It was...me that he begged, me that he pleaded with, me that he cowered before," tears blurred his vision, but James went on, unable to stop, "it was me that tore the skin from his back, me that broke his bones, me that delivered every kick, every punch-"

"Stop it!" Lily yelled. She had already seen it. She didn't have the stomach to hear it too, "it wasn't you, don't do this to yourself."

James was on his feet.

"But Harry thought it was me!" he said, "he grew up believing that! He would probably still believe it if Peter never told him the truth and brought him here."

"But he did," Lily said, getting up too, "Peter corrected his wrong by telling Harry the truth. He brought Harry back and now Harry knows who hurt him. Harry knows you love him, that we both love him. We have to remind him of that, remind Harry every day just how much we love him." she shook her head, "but if you fall into this trap of guilt, you won't be able to even look at him. This unjust guilt will take Harry away from you."

James stilled. He remembered, with the utmost clarity, what Harry had asked from him, 'promise me that you'll be able to look me in the eye afterwards.' Is this why Harry made him promise? Because Harry knew after watching the memories, he and Lily were bound to feel guilty?

James felt his stomach lurch again. Is this how insecure Harry felt? That's when he remembered last night's conversation,

"You don't understand."

"What don't we understand?" .

It'll change everything...if I tell you what...what happened, you won't...you won't be able to..."

"What?"

"Stay with me."

James' eyes widened in realisation. Lily was right. If he didn't control his guilt, if he allowed it to manifest itself and take control of him, he really wouldn't be able to look Harry in the eyes again. What if Harry felt insecure in his own home? Felt his parents were too ashamed to be with him? No, James silently vowed. He wouldn't lose Harry, not again, not to Death Eaters, not to Voldemort and certainly not to guilt issues.

He took in a breath and tried his best to calm down. He nodded at Lily.

"You're right," he breathed, "I have to place blame where it belongs," he said, "I'm not going to give Harry a reason to regret giving us the pensieve."

"Yeah," Sirius added, "you're right, James, put blame where it belongs. You didn't do anything. This is all Voldemort's doing."

James had to fight to hold back his tears.

"No, Sirius," he said quietly. "it's my fault, all my fault. If I had looked for Harry when he was taken, if I hadn't listened and stuck to you as my secret keeper, if I had found Harry nine years ago, my son wouldn't have been tortured. My Harry wouldn't have suffered. He wouldn't have cried in a place where no one was interested in his tears. If I had done my job as a father, I would have been able to protect my son!"

Sirius was stunned into silence. He could only stare at his heart-broken friend.

"I deserve the guilt, but I'm not going to let Harry see it." James said, "I'm not losing my son again because of my shortcomings. Harry deserves better and I'm going to give him that."

Wiping a hand across her wet cheeks, Lily walked over to James and slipped a hand into his.

"We are going to give Harry the best," she corrected, "Harry is never going to see the hurt, the pain. The only thing Harry will ever see when he looks at us, is the happiness he brings us."

A sound next to the door made all three adults turn to see Harry, standing at the threshold, staring at them.

xxx

The silence that fell on the room was the most awkward and tense one yet. James and Lily felt like their hearts had forgotten to beat as they laid eyes on Harry. Sirius stared at Harry but the boy's gaze was fixed on his parents. He looked from one to the other, before resting his gaze on James.

"You feel guilty?" he asked quietly, "so I was right. Telling you what happened in my past ruined our future."

James darted towards him at once.

"No, no Harry, no," he knelt before him, grabbing him by the arms, "don't think that. Nothing can ruin our future together, nothing."

Lily came to rest next to James.

"We love you," she reminded, "we're always going to love you, no matter what."

Harry looked from one to the other, giving both a long stare before his lips parted again.

"You shouldn't feel guilty or uncomfortable, not in your own home," he said, "if...if seeing me around makes you feel...guilty then...then I'll leave-"

"Harry," James cut him off, his grip tightened around Harry's arms, "listen to me closely," he said, "the only way you can leave us, is over my dead body."

Harry quietened at once, staring at James with surprise.

"I can't live without you," James confessed, "the nine years I had in this house without you, every moment was spent in your memory. You are my backbone, Harry. Without you, I wouldn't even be able to stand. So never, never even contemplate about leaving us. You would kill your dad if you did."

Harry shook his head.

"Don't say that." he pleaded

James smiled, teary-eyed and reached to cup Harry's face.

"I'm sorry, about what I said, about feeling guilty," he said, "but my guilt, my remorse, it isn't because of you," he explained, "it's because I wasn't there to protect you, to keep you safe."

"It wasn't your fault." Harry tried.

"It doesn't matter," James replied, "I'm your dad. Anything happens to you, I feel responsible." he faltered, as horrendous images flashed in his mind; a belt in his hand, a snarl on his face, the bloodied welts on a three year old's back, "what you lived through..." he pushed himself to stay strong, "what you...suffered...you...you believed that...that I was the one who...who..."

He couldn't finish. The pain was too great. The tears and grief that he was holding back, broke through his resolve and James dropped his head into his hand as quiet sobs racked through him. He felt Lily's hand on his back but he shook his head. He couldn't stop the tears now. He felt Harry's hand on his own and he allowed the boy to pull his hand down and expose his face, wet with tears and bright with pain.

Through the blur of tears, James saw Harry was also tearing up. He reached out and pulled Harry to his chest, crying as he hugged Harry tightly.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, "I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm so, so sorry!"

"Dad?" Harry pulled away, "why are you sorry? You didn't do anything." he asked, even as his own tears tracked down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," James explained, "every time you...you called to me. I'm sorry I couldn't come to save you."

Harry didn't say anything, but the tears continued to fall from his eyes. He looked over and his mum and Sirius were in tears too. Lily hugged Harry, kissing him, holding him close.

"Thank you for sharing your past with us," she told him, "I know how scared you were, but you have nothing to worry about," she promised, "we'll work past this. We'll be strong, I promise you Harry, we'll be strong and we'll stay together. We're never going to be apart again. We will always stay together. I promise."

xxx

The black pensieve sat on the table. A shimmer ran through the silvery substance before two forms came tumbling out. James and Lily looked up to see Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black land unsteadily on their feet. At once, James was up, helping the weary and drained looking Dumbledore into the nearest chair in the headquarters private parlour. Lily helped Sirius, who looked rather pale.

James and Lily waited as both men recovered from what they had seen in the pensieve. James looked at his best friend, feeling sympathy bubble inside at the sight of him. He had warned Sirius not to go in, but Sirius had wanted to see for himself the extent of the lies Voldemort fabricated about him. Sirius wanted to see how low Voldemort could fall, but more than that, Sirius wanted to see what false memories Harry had about him.

"Dumbledore?" Lily asked, kneeling before him.

Wearily, Dumbledore raised his head but kept his eyes closed.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

When Dumbledore opened his eyes, they were missing their usual twinkle.

"I've never thought..." Dumbledore breathed with difficulty, "is this what Tom's reduced himself to? Abusing a child, torturing him and tricking him to gain his loyalty?" he shook his head, resting it against the back of the chair before closing his eyes, "Merlin help me," he whispered, "I fear what I've seen will indeed be the end of me."

"Is it real?" James asked, getting to the point. He had been praying, fervently that the memories they had seen were all fake. That his son had never really suffered, only believed to have suffered.

Dumbledore opened his eyes before sitting up.

"James," he said quietly, almost painfully, "I'm sorry."

James felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. He nodded and moved back, running a hand through his hair, until both hands rested on the back of his head. He forced back the tears, burning with disappointment and grief.

"No," Lily shook her head, "please, Dumbledore, please tell me it's fake. It didn't really happen, not to Harry, please?"

"I wish I could," Dumbledore replied gravely, "but I'm afraid, the memories are real. Harry's lived through all we've seen."

Lily dissolved in tears, her chocked cries rang in the room, but no one had the heart to comfort her. Not James, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius. All were lost in their own grief.

xxx

It was a few days before Sirius mustered up the courage to come to Godric's Hollow. He had tried but couldn't find it in himself to face Harry, not after seeing what the child remembered of him. It was all false, Sirius knew Harry was aware of that, but still, he couldn't face him. It was now he understood what James meant by feeling guilty. Every time he remembered one of the memories and a tiny Harry addressed the bastard feigning to be him, he felt a sear of pain grip at his heart. Every time he remembered how the fake him slapped Harry, or how he laughed at the child's pain or even how he stood back and enjoyed watching the fake James beat the boy bloody, it made Sirius want to go out and kill as many filthy Death Eaters as he could find.

Sirius took an oath, to find out which Death Eater it was that pretended to be him, and to kill that son-of-a-bitch slowly and excruciatingly painfully. He was going to take vengeance, that he swore to himself, not only because this Death Eater had pretended to be him, but because of how badly this low-life treated his Godson.

Sirius couldn't sleep when he remembered Harry's fear-filled eyes. He couldn't eat when he recalled how badly Harry was beaten. Sirius couldn't downright breathe when he remembered how Harry begged and pleaded for mercy, which he never received.

But Sirius knew that if he shied away from Harry, he was the one that was going to lose him. So he gathered all his Gryffindor bravery and went to Godric's Hollow that afternoon.

He met James and Lily, cuddled Damien but his usual charm was missing. His laughter was empty, his smiles void of their cheekiness. When Sirius finally crossed paths with Harry, he found he couldn't hold the child's gaze. Harry didn't speak to him and Sirius, despite trying, couldn't find anything to say to him.

The evening dragged on, until Sirius excused himself, shortly after a strained dinner and left to come back to the headquarters.

It was just as Sirius was pouring himself his third shot of whiskey, sitting alone in his darkened parlour, that the floo went off behind him. He turned around to see James step out of the green flames, Harry by his side.

Sirius quickly waved his wand and the room lit up.

"James," Sirius greeted, "what's wrong?"

"Harry asked to speak to you," James said, gesturing to the said boy, "I'm just going to wait in the kitchen."

Before Sirius could say anything, James gave a nod to Harry and turned to walk out, closing the door behind him. Sirius had no choice but to look at Harry, who was holding his gaze intently.

"Harry," Sirius forced himself to address him, "is something wrong?"

Harry remained quiet, just staring at Sirius.

"You were awfully quiet today." he said at last.

Sirius attempted a half smile.

"Didn't have much to say."

Harry tilted his head to the side.

"Why's that?"

Sirius gave a shrug.

"Doesn't have to be a reason," he said, turning so his back was to Harry, he began tidying up the bottle and glass, "besides, it's good to give other people a chance to talk, right?"

"You've seen the memories, haven't you?" Harry asked, halting Sirius mid-action.

Slowly, Sirius turned around, giving up on pretences. He gave a small nod.

"That's why you're avoiding me?" Harry asked.

Sirius felt horrible.

"It wasn't intentional," he explained, "I just...I'm not brave enough to face you."

Harry walked a little closer.

"You didn't do anything."

"That's not how you remember it."

Harry paused.

"No, not anymore."

Sirius fell quiet.

"Can I tell you something?" Harry asked. At Sirius' nod, he continued, "when I came back home, I found it easier to deal with mum and dad." he looked up at Sirius, "but I couldn't deal with you. I don't know why," Harry added, seeing the pained look on Sirius, "I know it wasn't you that hurt me, but you still annoyed me. I tried so hard to like you, but I kept remembering my past and I just couldn't separate you from those memories."

Sirius had to sit down.

"That night, when we came back from the circus," Harry reminded, "when you and dad were talking about my...my punishment," Harry shook his head, "I felt like I had stepped back in time. The way you were behaving, smiling and joking around about what my punishment should be," Harry paused, "it felt too close to my past and that's why I said all those things to you. I wanted to hurt you, to make you feel bad and I know that I did." Harry paused again, holding Sirius' gaze, "and I know that I owe you an apology for that."

Sirius shook his head suddenly.

"Oh, God!" he exclaimed, "Harry, please, don't apologise."

"I have to," Harry replied, "I treated you unfairly, hurt you for no reason."

"Harry, stop," Sirius held out a hand, "please, I'm begging you," he pointed to himself, "I should be the one that apologises to you."

"What for?" Harry asked.

"For reminding you of your past," Sirius replied, "my stupidity, my immaturity caused you pain."

"It's not your fault," Harry said, "your immaturity is what makes you Sirius."

"And that's exactly what they used to pretend to be me!" Sirius said, "if I don't change, I'll always remind you of your childhood, of that...that Sirius that hurt you!"

"But if you change, you won't be the Sirius that my mum and dad love, that Damy loves." Harry pointed out. "If you change, you won't be Sirius anymore."

"That's good," Sirius said, "then maybe, my Godson can stand to be around me."

Harry was taken aback. Steeling himself, he replied,

"I'm starting to get used to you. When I came here to help you, the chores we did, all that time we spent, I saw you...differently, even though you were the same Sirius as always." he walked closer, so he was only two steps away, "I don't want you to change. I don't want you to be different. I only just got you, Sirius, I don't want to lose you."

"Harry," Sirius breathed, "you'll never lose me."

"You couldn't sit through dinner because of me," Harry said, "how can you tell me I won't lose you?"

Sirius fell silent.

"My dad really cares for you," Harry said, "even mum loves you, though she'd never admit it," Sirius smiled a little at that, "and Damy? God, Damy adores you." Harry moved closer still, "I don't want to be the reason they all lose you."

Sirius reached out, holding onto Harry by the shoulders.

"I swear on everything I hold dear to me, Harry. You, Damy, James and Lily will never lose me."

Harry smiled.

"You won't change either?"

Sirius let go of him and dropped his head.

"I wish I could promise you this," he said, "but the truth is, I'm already changed. Seeing your memories, they changed me Harry."

"But I don't want anything to change," Harry pleaded, "I want everything, everyone to remain the same."

"I wish I could," Sirius said swallowing back his tears, "but knowing what you went through at the hands of a person that you believed to be me," he paused, shaking his head, "I can't forget about it. I can't stop thinking about it. I wish I could go back in time, so far back that I could take you away, keep you safe, protect you," Sirius couldn't stop the hot tears from falling, "that's what I was supposed to do. I'm your Godfather, I should have protected you."

Harry rubbed at his burning eyes, sniffing back his own tears.

"You can't undo the past."

"I know," Sirius nodded, "but how I wish I could," he sighed, "how I wish I could start over. A fresh start with you, just you and me and no memories haunting us."

Harry looked up at him, eyes wide with a sudden idea.

"Who says we can't?" he asked quietly.

Sirius frowned.

"What?"

But Harry only brushed back his tears, and held out a shaky hand.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you."

Sirius looked at Harry with tears burning in his eyes and choked back a sob. He grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly to his chest. He cried, more than he had cried in a long time, while Harry clung to Sirius, sobbing quietly in his embrace.

xxx

James left with Harry, after Sirius promised he would be over the next morning for breakfast. It was only moments afterwards that Remus arrived. Sirius was glad. He wasn't in the mood to be left alone.

They two marauders settled in the parlour and talked about the memories witnessed in Harry's pensieve.

"How's Harry coping?" Remus asked, worriedly.

"He seems to be okay," Sirius said, "he's very strong, Remus. I don't think another child of only ten years would be able to go through something like this."

Remus nodded in agreement.

"It's good that this came out in the open," he said, "it isn't healthy for Harry to be dealing with such a thing on his own. Now, James and Lily, along with us, can help Harry get through this."

"It it wasn't for that Boggart, all this wouldn't have come to light." Sirius said.

Remus paused.

"How did that Boggart get in your trunk?" he asked.

"No idea," Sirius replied, "I think the trunk was in the attic. You know Boggarts, they love dark places. The house elves have been bringing stuff down, just a few things that I thought might fit in the playroom." he shook his head, "they must have brought the trunk down, thinking it had old toys."

"What'd you do with the Boggart and the trunk?" Remus asked.

"I got rid of it," Sirius replied, "the Boggart's gone and I threw the trunk out. I don't want to see that thing ever again."

xxx

In a deserted street alley, only a block away from the Headquarters, the empty trunk lay discarded in the midst of old bin bags and cardboard boxes. Slowly, the trunk began to tremble, as if the ground under the trunk was shaking. The surrounding piles of rubbish lay still, but the trunk was jittering, making a distinct clanging noise in the quiet street. In grew in intensity until the trunk was lifted into the air by it's violet thrashing. As soon as it became airborne, it started to shrink rapidly. It flew across the alley, shrinking and changing from a rectangular trunk to a perfect round disc. The black and red paint brightened until it was a shiny gold.

The transformed trunk, now a small, shiny golden disc, flew into the street and clicked perfectly in place on a yellow skirt, surrounded by other identical golden discs. Gazelle looked up from her skirt and smiled. The gypsy turned her dark head and stared at the spot between numbers 11 and 13 Grimmauld place before flashing a dazzling smile again. It was as if the Gypsy could see the hidden house and all the occupants inside.

With a glint of triumph sparkling in her eyes, she turned and walked away, her tinkering laugh echoing down the street.

xxx