Albus Dumbledore was currently enjoying a can of Solo fizzy drink. The sweet, sugar lemon taste reminded him strongly of his beloved lemon drops, and after such a tiring opening to Hogwarts, he felt he was allowed to indulge in such Muggle beverages.
Through Albus's slight manipulations, Harry Potter was quickly becoming isolated in the wizarding world. Ryan Potter's disbelief of his brother's existence had helped spark distrust within Harry's own house. The disbelief had been further evolved after Malfoy's involvement. Dumbledore smiled softly to himself as he recalled the conversation with Severus, and how difficult it had been to convince Severus to convince Malfoy to befriend Harry.
Of course, the relationship had been doomed from the beginning. Albus was no fool. Someone as moral as Harry would never have been able to maintain a friendship with someone as sadistic as Malfoy. What had mattered was that the whole school witnessed Harry, brother of the Boy-who-lived, attempting a friendship with the rumoured Prince of Hogwarts. The results had been disastrous. The whole house, regardless of gender, age or heritage had been outraged.
There were still a few loyal followers, but nothing Albus couldn't crush. Lavender Brown's attraction to the boy could easily be misdirected with a simple love potion. Ron Weasley was loyal to the bone, and it would only take a few simple words from Ryan to bring the Weasley back to his original alliance. Neville Longbottom, Albus almost snorted as he thought of the pathetic boy possibly becoming an obstacle. Albus truly felt great sorrow for the child, and he would never have wished such a tragedy on anyone's parents, but it had been sixteen years since the incident! Surely the boy could have matured somewhat in that time.
And then there was Ginny Weasley. Albus remembered probing Ginny's mind at the Burrow, and recalling her unexpected meeting with Harry, but he had also felt her overwhelming feelings for Ryan, the boy who had saved her from a basilisk. Albus didn't fear for Ginny's attraction to waver in the slightest if there were no interruptions, but he had fears that the new Potter may attempt to woo her away from his brother.
To be certain that such a possibility was irrelevant, Dumbledore had prepared a little display for Harry tonight. The sound of stone grating on stone interrupted Albus from his thoughts, and he gave a soft smile as the gargoyles telepathically informed him that Harry had entered the office.
'Just on time,' Albus thought to himself.
The boy stepped into Albus's intricate office, and the Headmaster could feel the tension and strain rolling off of Harry's body. His powerful muscles were clenched in anticipation for any sort of attack while his burning green eyes, so reminiscent of Lily's and Ryan's, flickered around the room, warily eyeing the countless silver trinkets.
"Now Harry, I called you here tonight because the professors informed me you were having difficulties in your practical studies," Albus said, blatantly lying about his real reason for dragging Harry up to his office.
Harry remained silent, but Albus could see the green eyes narrowing in irritation.
"I was wondering if there was anything I could do to aid you in your endeavors. Your education is of my highest concern."
"Unfortunately Headmaster, my education is the least of my concerns," Harry replied coldly. "The only reason I'm attending this school is to allow Willow to receive the education she deserves. Just because I'm attending this prison of yours doesn't mean I have to do well."
"Indeed, it doesn't," Albus replied, genuine sadness in his voice. Hogwarts was a place for learning, and every child should be allowed the chance to thrive in knowledge. Even someone such as Harry.
Remembering the original reason for calling Harry to his office, Albus cast a silent and wandless lure charm on the mirror behind his desk. He only had to wait seconds before the magic overpowered Harry's natural defences, and the boy's curiosity bubbled over.
"Professor, what's that mirror behind your desk?" Harry asked.
"Ah, that, my dear boy, is the Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore said admirably.
Harry stood up, without Albus having to tell him so, and dragged his feet over to the mirror so that he was standing in front of it. The boy's eyes traced the intricate and delicate amethyst and ruby engravings amongst the weaving gold borders. His eyes rested upon the plated letters at the top of the mirror before falling to the reflective, magical surface.
Harry's reflection stared back at him. The well worn leather jacket was wrapped around his arms, and the unzipped center revealed his oil stained, white shirt that clung tight to his chest. His messy raven hair, so similar to that of Ryan's, fell into his eyes, and he unconsciously flicked the strand behind his ear. Albus continued to stare at the reflection, trying to discover something that didn't exist in reality. A family member in the background, a red headed witch hanging on his arm, auras and symbols of power draped across his body.
There was nothing.
"Professor, what does this mirror do?" Harry asked, his voice confused.
"It shows the deepest and most desperate desires of our hearts," Albus replied, the honesty and pain of that simple statement showed in his voice. The things that Albus had seen in that mirror, the heartbreak, every time it shattered his spirit.
"I think it's broken," Harry said plainly, interrupting Albus's humble thoughts.
"Surely there's something you can see. Something that's not of reality," Albus said hurriedly. "A ring on your finger? A wand in your hand?"
"Nothing," Harry said bluntly.
"Harry, do you have any desires, any hopes for the future that you could think of," Dumbledore asked urgently.
"I hope that I have food for breakfast tomorrow. I hope that I get to ride my flying motorcycle again. I hope that gravity doesn't suddenly stop for some strange reason and send us all into outer space," Harry said, listing them off on his fingers.
"But those aren't desires, those are just basic wants. Surely there's something you desire! Anything!" Dumbledore continued, his voice rising in power as he grew more confused.
"What is it you want from me Professor?" Harry snapped, irritation seeping into his voice.
Albus suddenly calmed down. He had done this test to ensure that Harry didn't have a desire to steal Ginny Weasley from Ryan, but the test had showed so much more. Harry didn't have any desires at all in his life. It was almost as if he had no reason to live.
Dumbledore couldn't help but smile gleefully. His plan was falling together far more majestically than he ever could have imagined.
"Nothing, my dear boy, Nothing. I was just ever so curious as to the mirror's properties." Dumbledore, realizing he was standing up now due to the earlier excitement, settled himself back into his plush purple chair.
"I think that is all for tonight Mr. Potter, you are excused," Dumbledore said, and the addressed boy left the room none too quickly, as the wizened blue eyes followed the young wizard to the exit.
Eyes that watched Harry leave like the sheep to the slaughter.
Harry stormed through Hogwart's corridors, absolutely livid. Dumbledore infuriated him to no end. Since he had discovered at the orphanage that he was a wizard through Neville's Hogwart's letter he had been furious at not being accepted into the wizarding world. Technically, Harry should therefore be overjoyed that Dumbledore had introduced him to the wizarding world.
But Harry was furious. Dumbledore had dragged Harry in without an explanation or an apology, dumped him in a school where the students didn't respect him, and forced him to attend classes which he didn't learn from. Dumbledore was obviously playing some sort of game, and it had to do with Harry, his brother, and the return of Voldemort. Harry just couldn't figure out the bloody connection though.
Too agitated to return to the dorm and sleep, Harry snuck out of the castle, past the floating, sleeping forms of various ghosts, and worried that opening the giant, wooden entrance hall doors would trigger a magical alarm, exited through an open window in a side corridor. Harry walked towards the edge of the forest, his shoes crunching the fresh, crisp grass beneath his feet. He got to the clearing where he had met Sirius the night before. The dog-man wasn't there at the moment, but the heaped remains of the motorcycle were.
Harry frowned at the pile. Sirius had been hard at work last night trying to fix the destroyed machine, but he had sadly informed Harry that it would take a couple of weeks to repair the charms that had been shattered along with the physical shell of the bike. Despite everything Harry knew about motorcycles, his ability to repair a magical one was highly limited.
"Did you know?" Sirius said suddenly from behind, and Harry whipped around to see his godfather grinning at him, "I ran away from home on that bike."
"You ran away from home?" Harry asked, relishing in learning more about his godfather.
"Damn right I did," Sirius said with a feral grin on his face, "went to go live with your father and his parents. The nicest family there ever was."
"Yes, well until my father finally decides to acknowledge my existence, I wouldn't quite classify him as the nicest," Harry said, not angry, just tired. Sirius, on the other hand looked both furious and confused.
"What do you mean Harry? Have your parents still not visited you?"
"Visited me? Sirius, they haven't even sent me a letter yet," Harry explained. Sirius glanced away from Harry, hurt and betrayal evident in his gray eyes.
"That damn bastard, I was sure he'd come visit," Sirius softly murmured to himself, but Harry could still hear the words. There was an awkward silence that Harry tried to fill, but just couldn't find anything to fill the space. The two of them eventually fell to staring at the broken, mangled metal machinery that had once been a beautiful flying motorcycle. Harry snorted as he found himself comparing the broken bike to his family.
"Want to see if we can fix it?" Harry suggested.
"She has a name you know," Sirius reprimanded, emphasizing the gender.
"Oh, is that so?" Harry asked mockingly.
"Kahlan, my first and only true love," Sirius said, theatrically sighing at the stars.
"I should've known you were a mechanophile," Harry said, eliciting a barking laugh from the ex-convict.
"I'll have you know, kiddo, that Kahlan the motorcycle was named after Kahlan the woman," Sirius said, and Harry could tell that despite the joking tone, Sirius was, for once, uncharacteristically serious.
"So you actually have a girl out there somewhere then?"
Sirius stared out at the stars, his eyes glassing over as memories played through his mind. A smile played upon his face, and for the first time since Harry had met Sirius, his godfather truly looked alive. Hope was kindled in his eyes, and his shoulders were drawn back proudly, an affirmation to the world that he would not be bowled over.
"She was beautiful. The girl, not the motorbike. She had this wondrous, straight raven hair that would cascade down her face, and fall into her eyes." Sirius's hands twitched involuntarily, as if he were restraining himself from stroking a strand of raven hair back behind a pale ear.
"So, how'd you meet her then?" Harry asked, lounging on the ground, preparing himself for a story.
"It was the year after I graduated from Hogwarts. I had just recently joined an order of people with the intent to stop Voldemort, who had been terrorizing Britain. I was off duty, just having finished a raid, and therefore, of course, I was…
"Give me another drink, Tom!" Sirius shouted at the bartender, who smiled at his regular customer, before sliding over the remainder of the bottle of firewhiskey.
"It's on the house Mr. Black," Tom said, clapping Sirius on the shoulder before continuing with his business. Sirius felt that the day could not be going any better, until a raven haired girl entered the bar. Her silky straight hair fell down to her chest, accentuating her respectable assets. Deciding to test his night's immaculate luck, he swaggered over to the hot babe.
"You're so stunning you stupefied me when you walked through that door," Sirius said to the woman, flashing her his charismatic smile. This one would work, he thought to himself, it always worked.
"You can't be serious," the girl groaned, not looking up from the table.
"Oh, but I am," Sirius replied, his smile still on his face. The woman finally looked up at him, and Sirius felt his world fall apart around him as he stared into those sky blue eyes that shone with intelligence and wit. Sirius had been about to continue with his witty response about his name, but the pick up line fell apart in his mouth.
"I'm Sirius,"
"I know, you already said that,"
"No, I meant that my name is Sirius,"
"And it might be a serious name, if you could finally grow a pair and tell me,"
"Sirius Black,"
"Now aren't we the racist one,"
Sirius was tongue twisted, he could only stare at the girl as she strolled away from her table and moved to another one, sipping from a bottle of firewhiskey as she moved along.
"Damn," Sirius whispered to himself, and reached over to take a swig of his firewhiskey, but his hands found thin air.
"Damn," Sirius whispered again, this time with even more awe. Never being one to give up, Sirius strode over to the blue haired lass once again.
"I have a feeling you have something of mine," Sirius said as charmingly as he could.
"Seriously?" Was all she replied with, before moving off to a third table.
"Third time's the charm," Sirius muttered to himself, pushed his shaggy hair back behind his ears, and approached her once more.
"Your voice is truly angelic, but I wish I had a name to link it with," Sirius said, and he honestly thought that, as the words came out of his mouth, that he had a chance.
"You're unbearable, you know that?"
"Actually, I'm Sirius,"
The lady huffed, pushed the bottle into Sirius's chest, and began stalking out of the bar.
"If you ever want a good ride, just give me a shout!" Sirius called to her as she left the leaky cauldron. She responded with a silent, middle finger. Shrugging to himself at her response, he raised his returned bottle of firewhiskey to his lips, but frowned when no liquid came out.
"She drank it all!" Sirius exclaimed incredulously. He stood confused for a moment, pondering the bottle for a few moments before coming to a conclusion.
"That's my kind of girl."
Never one to be abandon something he wanted, Sirius ran out of the bar, eager to try his luck for a fourth time, but he was disappointed to find the streets of London devoid of any raven haired beauties. Disappointed, but determined he'd be able to try again another day, Sirius walked over to his bike, revved the engine, and prepared to fly home.
Until he heard a shout.
It wasn't a normal shout either, but a shout mixed with fear and worry. More importantly, it was a very feminine shout that Sirius recognized none too easily. It was at this point in his heroic rescue that Sirius would have muttered the name of the girl he was going to save under his breath, but failing to know her name, he had to compromise.
"Hot babe," he whispered to himself, before revving the motorcycle one more time, and riding towards the source of the scream. He turned a sharp corner at the nearest alley, and swore loudly as he analyzed the situation. Four Death Eater's had circled Sirius's girl, and had their wands pointed at her, curses flying out threateningly. She in turn had her own wand out, but could do little but maintain a magical shield as she held her back to the wall.
Blind fury rose up in Sirius's chest, and the addicting adrenaline pumped through his blood, fueling him to do something stupid. Fueling him to save her life. Sirius roared down the alley, swerving his motorcycle around the lady, distracting and stunning the Death Eaters.
"Cavalierium!" Sirius bellowed, swinging his wand at the ground, and a semi circle of spears, swords and javelins erupted from the ground, pointing out dangerously at the opposing wizards. Using the weapons as a physical shield, he squeezed the brakes of the bike, screeching to a stop beside the paralyzed, blue eyed woman.
"You shouted, here's my ride," Sirius said, his cheeky smile back on his face, never missing a beat.
"So you were serious," she replied, a smirk on her face as she clambered onto the back of the bike. She wrapped her hands firmly around Sirius's waist and pressed her body firmly to his.
"That's my name, don't wear it out," he replied, before kicking the bike into movement. A Death Eater blasted the medieval weapons out of the way, and Sirius used the gap in the impromptu shield to make his escape. One cloaked wizard raised his wand in retaliation, but Sirius cast a simple summoning charm, and a jousting lance crashed into the man's back, piercing his heart, and killing him instantly.
The motorbike began rumbling down the alley and was chased by several colourful but deadly jinxes that Sirius's tightly clinging passenger deflected with her wand. The bike roared around the corner, and Sirius throttling the accelerator to gain distance between himself and the pursuers. He swore violently when he had to swerve out of the way of incoming spells as the remaining three Death Eaters apparated in front of him. He took a sharp turn down another alley, but once again, the Death Eaters apparated to his new position.
"Avada Kedavra," one wizard bellowed, and a sizzling green light left his wand.
"Engorgio!" Sirius shouted at a metal trash can, casting the simple charm wandlessly. The trashcan expanded to triple its size, exploding when the enlarged shield collided with the killing curse.
Sirius took another sharp turn, and the back wheel slammed into the edge of a building, causing the girl behind him to shout in shock as the bike jumped violently. The alleyway was just big enough to allow the bike to slide through, but Sirius's passenger had realized, along with the Death Eaters, that the alley was a dead end.
"We have to turn and fight!" The lady yelled in his ear, but Sirius simply laughed cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the horrible situation.
"But I haven't finished showing off my ride yet," he exclaimed, before pulling the giant mechanical bike off the ground, and rolling into the air. The apparating Death Eaters jumped to the nearest rooftop, but even they could not follow the bike into the midnight, cloudy sky.
"This is incredible," the woman screamed into Sirius's ears, and despite his ringing ear drums, Sirius couldn't help but smile.
"It's a beauty, isn't it? I only just finished the flying manipulations last week. Thank Merlin I did, eh?"
"You made this bike yourself?" she exclaimed in surprise.
"Who do you think I am?" Sirius replied.
"Seriously handsome," she said, and if Sirius could have turned around at that point, he was certain she would have been sporting a mischievous grin identical to his.
"And what about you?"
"Kahlen. Kahlen Joken," she replied.
"You've got to be kidding me," Sirius groaned.
"Nope, just joking." Sirius let loose a cackle of laughter
"And what about this beast," Kahlan continued, patting the side of the flying bike. "What's his name?"
"First, it's a she," Sirius admonished, "and second of all it's…" Sirius only had to think for a moment, "Kahlan. It's name is Kahlan."
"You've got to be serious," she deadpanned
"Only if you're joking," he replied, and when she laughed along with him, Sirius couldn't help but believe that he'd just found the perfect girl.
Harry and Sirius were lying on the grass, their heads angled towards the sky. Sirius was silent as he finished his story, and Harry allowed him the privilege of privacy.
"She was the only girl in the world who could keep up with me." Sirius finally said, breaking the silence. "The only girl who could keep me level headed, but the only one who would play along with me."
"Where is she Sirius?" Harry asked, an almost urgent tone in his voice, "Where is Kahlan." Sirius continued to stare up at the stars, lost in his thoughts. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned towards Harry.
"Do you know my story Harry? Do you know the reason I was once a convicted criminal?" Sirius asked softly, his gray eyes transforming back into their hopeless, hollow cavern. Harry shook his head slowly, not trusting his voice.
"It happened the day Voldemort attacked your parents, but it truly started the day you were born…"
James and Lily had just given birth to twins. They were so happy, we were so happy. James, Lily, Remus, Peter and I. Then Dumbledore swept into our lives. His big billowing purple robes blew through the entrance to the ward at St. Mungo's. He told us of a prophecy, a prophecy so terrible it feared us all into following any of Dumbledore's suggestions. The Prophecy spoke of the child born on the last day of July, and how neither Voldemort nor the child can live while the other survives. It was horrible; none of us had ever realized such despair.
Listening to Dumbledore, the Potters went into hiding through the Fidelious charm. James and Lily initially asked me to be the secret keeper. I was so immensely proud. My best friend, my brother, trusted me with not just his life, but with the life of his wife and children. I said yes, and everyone that day heard me say yes.
And then when I thought I couldn't feel any prouder, James made me your godfather. I remember tears falling down my face. I'd never felt so alive in my life before. Looking at my godson however, I felt worry. Voldemort would have been certain to target me, so with permission from James and Lily, I changed the secret keeper to Peter. Peter the bloody rat.
Six months later the attack happened. Peter had betrayed us. Betrayed us all. That night I was out at a dinner with Kahlan in Hogsmead. We rarely were able to meet, so we were spending the time preciously, but then Hagrid ran into me. I heard of the attack form Hagrid and I was furious. I knew immediately who was to blame and I was going to murder the filthy rat. Kahlan cried that night, begged me not to leave, that nothing good could come from revenge.
For the first time during Sirius's story, his penetrating gray eyes finally met Harry's.
"I didn't listen to her Harry, I didn't listen to her."
"I chased down Peter, tried to get his confession, but he blew up half the street and thirteen Muggles. He transformed into a rat, cut off his toe, and ran into the sewers. When the Aurors arrived, they presumed that I'd murdered Peter, and when the news reached the Potters, they assumed that I had tortured the rat so he would reveal the Fidelious location to Voldemort."
"It was just as Kahlan said. Nothing good came from me hunting down Peter." Sirius fell silent as he pondered his mistake. Eventually he spoke up once more.
"The rest of the story everyone knows. I broke out of Azkaban after seeing a picture of Wormtail in the papers. Broke into Hogwarts, found the filthy little traitor, ran into Ryan, Remus turned into a werewolf, the dementor's went haywire, and finally Ryan saved everyone."
"Listen to me Harry. If there's one thing I want to teach you as a godfather, it's this. When you find the girl who's perfect for you, always listen to her, and never ignore her. Women are smarter than us men, it's a proven fact."
"Most importantly of all, never leave her, ever!"
"That's if I ever find someone like your Kahlan."
"I know you will kiddo," Sirius said, and his voice was so confident Harry couldn't help but trust him.
James Potter was sitting in his favourite armchair in the house, but the leather chair was doing little to comfort James as he leant forward, his head buried in his arms. He had come home from work with the most terrible headache. It was tearing at his mind, and even Lily's homemade respite potion did little to stop the pain.
"Are you sure you're alright sweetheart?" Lily asked her husband, crouching in front of him and stroking his hair comfortably. James was never one to show pain to others, so he simply smiled reassuringly at his wife, before burying his head in a nearby book. Lily shook her head disapprovingly, knowing her husband's antics far too well to see the pain he was in.
He was trying to read the book upside down.
"I'll make you something stronger," Lily said to James, causing him to blush at being found out, before she disappeared to her potions laboratory. Not long after she left, the dying fireplace in the living room roared to life as James's best friend flooed through.
The headache temporarily forgotten, James launched himself out of the chair and towards his brother.
"Siriu-" James shouted, only to be cut off when Sirius's fist collided with James's face.
"What was that for?" James exclaimed, clutching his face. He swerved backwards as another fist came swinging towards him, hissing past his cheek.
"Now you've got it coming," James roared, before launching an attack of his own. He swung a punch at Sirius' gut, who stumbled backwards from the force, and then, without missing a step, James tackled Sirius. Sirius managed to stay upright however, and used James's momentum against him, swinging him against the brick fireplace.
His Auror reflexes kicking in, James grabbed Sirius' open right arm, and yanked it skywards, causing the convict to howl in pain as he was forced to bow toward the ground. James was so intent on holding the struggling arm that he missed the swinging leg that wrapped around his ankles and tripped to the carpet.
Sirius leant down, grabbed James' by his jacket, and swung him upwards and crashing into a wooden book case. The wood cracked, and several heavy magical manuscripts came raining down. James' body bounced off the wood, and the impact caused the glasses to slide off his face and fall to the carpeted floor.
"Time out!" James shouted, "I lost my glasses."
Sirius let go of his nearsighted friend who was clambering around, unsuccessfully, searching for his glasses. Sirius sighed, knelt down and picked up the fragile rimmed glass moments before James's foot was about to crush them.
"Here you are Prongs," Sirius said, handing the glasses over, wiping blood off his chin that was dripping from his split lip.
"Thanks Padfoot," James replied, casting a cooling charm on his swelling cheek. The two injured boys collapsed to the ground together, and sat around the coughing fire, reminding them both of their times at the Gryffindor common room.
"Now, what was all that about Padfoot?" James asked his friend, not a single note of anger in his voice. "You've never punched me before unless there's been a good reason for it."
"Why didn't you go visit Harry? He's devastated that you didn't show up," Sirius explained. He wasn't angry, he could never remain angry with his best friend, but he was disappointed, and it showed in his voice. James, on the other hand, looked rather confused.
"Who's Harry?" James asked his friend. Sirius stared at him incredulously.
"Harry Potter. Your son." Sirius said bluntly, stressing every word. Before James could respond, he suddenly clasped his head in a burst of pain. He groaned as his headache grew in intensity. When he finally looked back up, he saw that Sirius was staring at him worryingly.
"Are you alright Prongs?" he asked concerned.
"Yeah, it's just a headache, work was pretty difficult today." James paused for a moment, as if he were trying to recall something. "What were we talking about again Padfoot?" This time Sirius was staring at his brother incredibly concerned.
"I was talking about Harry Potter," Sirius said slowly, and as soon as Harry's name was mentioned, a wave of pain flickered through James' skull, piercing his thoughts.
"Who were we talking about?" James asked once the burst of pain left. Sirius's gaunt, pale face grew even paler as he seemed to be trying to comprehend something.
"James, do you trust me?" Sirius asked, not necessarily liking what he was about to do.
"Always," James replied as Sirius began drawing his wand.
"Then don't resist for a moment," Sirius said, before casting a complex series of diagnostic charms around James. The results did not please Sirius in the slightest, but to confirm the extent of the damage, he had to enter his brother's mind.
"Legilimens," Sirius whispered, and once he had slid into James's undefended mind, he began implanting specific thoughts about Harry Potter. He pulled out of the mind seconds later, not wanting to intrude in his best friend's mind for a second longer than necessary. When he pulled out, he was greeted to a painful scene to watch. James was withering on the ground, his hands clasped around his head, screaming in silence as his own mind began attacking itself, tearing apart the foreign thoughts Sirius had implanted.
"What's happening to me Sirius," James panted.
"There's a bloody confounding charm imbedded within your mind. It's linked to a memory loss charm that removes all instances of events related to the mention of Ha-" Sirius caught himself before the charm activated. "To the mention of a keyword."
"That's why I've got this freaking headache then," James groaned, "It's been getting worse at work. Everyone at work must be talking about it if it's this bad. Can you trace the magical signature?"
"I already did," Sirius said, his voice cold. "It's Albus Dumbledore." James's eyes darkened.
"I knew it. This has something to do with my child, doesn't it Sirius. I never should have trusted Albus with Harry's life-"
James speech broke off as pain lanced through his mind. He tried to fight the pain, and think coherently, but the pain was too much, and he was knocked unconscious. Sirius, forgoing magic, picked up the limp body of James and carried him up to his bed.
"Albus is going to pay for this," Sirius snarled under his breath as he gently carried his injured brother up the stairs so he could rest, and dream a dream devoid of Harry Potter.