Harry huffed angrily and grumbled the password to the Fat Lady's portrait, climbing through without bothering to say goodbye to Snape. The man had insisted on bringing him back up to the tower after their altercation in the hall, and Harry had stomped in front of him the entire way in stony silence.
Snape had pissed him off with his comments about Sirius and his implications that Harry was incapable of making sound decisions. How dare the man question his judgement? He didn't know anything.
"Stupid Snape," Harry muttered quietly.
He supposed that it was pointless to try and convince Snape that he was wrong about his godfather. Just like with James Potter, Snape was obviously blinded by his past with Sirius.
Harry decided he wouldn't bring up the topic again. Arguing with everyone about Sirius made him so angry, and it was too difficult not to spill his secrets when he was frustrated. He'd nearly messed up and told Snape about his other meetings with his godfather.
Harry moved toward the staircase, shuffling his feet and tripping over the edge of an oversized, ornamental rug covered in golden swirls. In the scuffle, his schoolbag slid off of his shoulder and its contents scattered across the floor. Stupid rug!
He dropped to his knees with a noisy sigh and began sweeping quills and parchment back into his bag. He felt something land on his hunched back and looked up sharply, only to see a winged figure fluttering down beside him. Hedwig had brought him a letter.
His sour mood suddenly turned hopeful as he unfolded the piece of parchment.
Meet me by the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy on the seventh floor. Wear your father's invisibility cloak. I'll explain everything.
The note was incredibly messy, with multiple ink smudges, and it appeared as though it was written in a hurry, but it was one of the most wonderful things that Harry had ever seen.
He sped through the halls at a run, careful not to let his cloak slip off his body. Once he reached the seventh floor, he walked briskly, keeping his eyes peeled for the portrait. He had only been on the seventh floor a few times, so he was unfamiliar with its location.
He had just slipped his invisibility cloak off when a moving tapestry on the wall caught his eye. It appeared to be a picture of a stout man surrounded by trolls in ballet costumes. Several dull-looking trolls spun clumsily, whacking the man accidentally with their long, wooden clubs, but the man only smiled. Looks pretty barmy to me. This must be it.
As if he'd heard Harry's thoughts, a door that Harry hadn't seen before creaked open and a furry, black canine appeared in the entryway. Without hesitation, Harry followed the familiar dog, pulling the door closed behind him.
The room was quaint and cozy. Against one wall was a large, rustic fireplace that contained a roaring flame, and two couches were huddled around it, soaking up its warmth. The space was decorated in maroon and gold, reminding Harry fondly of the Gryffindor common room. He felt comfortable here.
In a flash, the dog became a man, and Sirius strode toward him, smiling brightly. He still wore the raggedy looking clothes that Harry had seen him in last time and he was rail thin, but there was a glint of happiness visible in his eyes that hadn't been there before.
"Harry, I'm so glad you came," he said jovially.
Harry offered an awkward smile and shifted nervously, clasping his hands together behind his back.
"You're gonna tell me everything now, right?" Harry asked, forcing himself to suppress the grin that threatened to appear on his face. He was so happy that Sirius was fulfilling his promise, but he needed to hear the man's explanation. He needed to understand.
"Yes. But it's a rather long story. Why don't you come over here and sit down." Sirius tapped lightly on the seat of the maroon couch, beckoning Harry forward.
Harry did as the man said, sinking down into the couch and tucking his legs underneath him. Then he looked at his godfather expectantly.
The man tucked a piece of stray hair behind his ear and then began. "Well, I suppose I'll have to go back to my years at Hogwarts." There was a faraway look in the man's eyes as he spoke. "I first met your father, James, on the Hogwarts Express, and we instantly became friends. We were both sorted into Gryffindor along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. As we grew up, we all became extremely close, but me and James," he sucked in a deep breath. "We were inseparable… like brothers."
Harry nodded, averting his gaze from Sirius's watery eyes.
"Anyway," The man said, wiping his face and composing himself. "During our fifth year, James, Peter, and I became Animagi. Do you know what that means?"
"That means you can turn into animals?" Harry said uncertainly. "Like Professor McGonagill. That's why you can transform into a dog."
"Exactly. But all Animagi are supposed to receive extensive training as it can be very dangerous, and they're all supposed to be registered with the ministry. We were not." Sirius said gravely.
"What about Professor Lupin? Why didn't he become one?"
"Well, Remus was… You see, Remus didn't need to become an animagis because he's a werewolf."
"A werewolf!" Harry exclaimed.
"Yes. He would transform every month, and it was terrible for him. The transformation is not an easy one to make, but no one could be there with him without being in danger. Werewolves do not feel the urge to attack animals though, only people. So, we became animagi to keep him company. Just as no one could find out that Remus was a werewolf, we made sure that no one found out about our animagis forms. I was a dog. Your father was a stag. And Peter," He snarled slightly at the name, revealing his crooked, yellow teeth. "Peter was a rat."
"What does this have to do with how you got stuck in Azkaban? Why does everyone think you're a murderer?" Harry asked, feeling confused.
"I'm getting to that, Harry. It wasn't long after we finished at Hogwarts that your parents got married and had you. And then shortly after that, we all learned that they were in danger, so your parents took you and went into hiding. To keep Voldemort from finding them, they were protected under the Fidelius charm. Have you ever heard of it?"
Harry shook his head.
"Well, the Fidelius charm is used to protect a secret. The secret is contained within one person, known as the secret keeper, and the secret can not be discovered unless the secret keeper tells someone. Your parents used the charm to protect their location, and I was originally meant to be their secret keeper."
"So, you told-" Harry shouted incredulously.
Sirius cut him off. "No, Harry. I would have never told their secret. I would have rather died. But I still blame myself for what I did do. I persuaded them to choose Peter as their secret keeper." His voice was laced with anguish and regret, and Harry felt his anger slipping away.
"But why?"
"It was common knowledge that James and I were especially close. Most people would automatically assume that he'd chosen me. I thought that by choosing Peter, they would be even better protected."
"But they weren't," Harry said, knowing the answer.
"No. They weren't," Sirius replied sadly. "Peter Pettigrew turned traitor and revealed their location to Voldemort. That's why your parents were attacked."
Harry didn't understand. If Peter was behind it all, then why was it Sirius who took the blame? It didn't make any sense.
He decided to speak up and voice his concerns. "Why did you go to Azkaban then?"
"When I found out that James and Lily had been killed, I knew what Peter had done, and I went to find him. I cornered him on a busy street in London. I was going to kill him for what he'd done. But Peter was clever, cleverer than I thought he was capable of. He shouted out how I'd betrayed your parents and then he used a blasting curse that caused an explosion and killed a dozen muggles. He cut off his own finger to make it seem as though the blast had killed him too, but then he transformed into a rat and disappeared. Everyone assumed that I had been the secret keeper. All the muggles who had witnessed the explosion were interrogated for information, and everything they saw was used as evidence against me. I was thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Everyone believed that I'd done it."
"And what happened to Peter?"
"From what I've learned, he's been hiding under everyone's noses all along, pretending to be a rat. While I was in Azkaban, I saw a picture of him in the Daily Prophet. He was shown in a family portrait of the Weasleys."
The Weasleys? Harry didn't understand. Why would Peter Pettigrew be with the Weasleys, unless…
"Ron's rat is Pettigrew?"
"Mmhmm. I could tell it was him immediately. Same fat body. Same gray and brown markings. And he was missing a toe," Sirius said heatedly. "I knew I had to find him, so I found a way to escape."
"How?"
"The dementors that guard Azkaban are blind. They rely only on human emotion to guide them. Most people go mad within weeks, but because I could transform, their effect on me was diminished significantly." He ran a hand through his mess of shaggy dark hair, as if trying to decide what to say next. "As a dog, I was just barely too wide to fit through the bars in my cell. They didn't feed us much in there anyway, but I stopped eating until I was only skin and bones. One day, I was finally able to slip through."
Harry wondered how thin his godfather must have been to slide through the bars. Probably as thin as Harry had been a month ago. At least Sirius had been able to put his thinness to good use.
"So, you came here to find Pettigrew? That's why you broke into Gryffindor tower," Harry stated, finally understanding the man's motives.
"Exactly, but by the time I got there, the rat was gone."
Sirius sounded extremely bitter, and Harry wondered if his godfather blamed him for not getting there in time. Maybe if he hadn't distracted Sirius every night with his whining, then Sirius would have acted sooner.
"Yeah, Ron said he'd disappeared," Harry said quietly.
"He must have found out I was coming for him… I waited too long. I just wanted my plan to be perfect, and so I stayed near the castle, listening, learning, observing."
"And then you saw me," Harry whispered.
"And then I saw you…"
Harry remembered the shaggy, black dog nuzzling against him as he cried and watching him diligently as he explained what was bothering him. But it hadn't been a dog; it had been Sirius.
"I still can't believe you were listening to me go on and on," Harry said, his face turning a flustered shade of red. "I didn't know that you could understand me."
"I know, and I'm sorry. But you understand why I couldn't just transform in front of you. I thought that you would believe me to be a murderer and I'd be locked up before I could get to Pettigrew. I planned to tell you as soon as he was dead," he explained.
"But then you found my note."
"Yes… Harry, when I got word that you and your parents had been attacked, it was one of the most terrifying moments in my life. And then when I read that letter… It was like it was happening all over again. I thought I'd lost you."
"So, you read the whole thing? You know everything?"
Harry hoped that, by some miracle, Sirius hadn't finished the letter. There were so many things that he didn't want his godfather to know. He'd wanted to make Ron and Hermione understand why he had to do it. He'd written about the Dursleys and growing up unwanted. He'd written about Marge, and the events that led to her death. He'd written about Knockturn alley, about the man and the gun and the blood. Harry shuddered just thinking about it.
"Yes, Harry... I read it all, and I need you to know that what happened was not your fault, and I don't think differently of you. Your aunt's death was not your fault. She was a foul woman with a worn heart. Any stressor could have given her a heart attack. You are not responsible for her death."
"What about the man… I picked up a gun and shot him, Sirius. How is that not my fault?" Harry felt hot tears stinging in his eyes and buried his face in his hands.
"Oh, Harry." Sirius wrapped the trembling boy in a hug. "You were just defending yourself," he whispered comfortingly in his ear. "That man was a monster. I'm glad you killed him. He deserved it."
"No…" Harry blubbered.
"Yes. Think of it this way. Now, that man can't hurt anyone else. He could have attacked any child, but you stopped him from ever doing it again."
"That's not the point!" Harry yelled. "Maybe if I hadn't been so stupid, he wouldn't have attacked me in the first place. He should still be alive. And it's my fault."
The man held Harry tighter and rubbed soothing circles on his back, shushing him gently. "It's not your fault, Harry. It's okay. You're okay," he whispered.
Voices from the past flooded through Harry's ears.
"FREAK!"
"DON'T CRY! YOU KNOW YOU DESERVE IT!"
"HOW DARE YOU SOIL THIS HOUSE WITH YOUR FREAKISHNESS!"
"YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH YOUR WORTHLESS PARENTS!"
Harry couldn't make the voices stop and a new wave of sobs shook his small frame.
"It's always my fault! I always do the wrong things. I'm a freak, Sirius! I'm a freak who deserves to be punished. My aunt and uncle always told me so, and I kept telling myself that they were wrong. But they weren't lying. All I do is screw things up!"
"No, Harry. No." Sirius held onto him and rocked him gently. He waited until his sobs subsided and then grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. "Your relatives were wrong about you. Don't ever for a second believe a word of what they've told you."
"It's hard not to believe it when that's all I've heard for the past thirteen years." Harry mumbled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
"Well, you won't have to hear it anymore," Sirius said earnestly.
Harry looked at him questioningly.
"You're with me now. I'm not letting you go back to those vile muggles. Never again," his godfather explained.
"But how?"
"We'll run away," Sirius said. He studied Harry's face for a moment before adding, "I mean, as long as you want to."
It was what Harry wanted more than anything in the world. For a moment, he was at a loss for words.
"Of course, I do."
A wide grin sprouted on the Sirius's thin face. "So, what's the plan then?"
The plan? Harry didn't have a plan. He'd been imagining a life with Sirius, but he'd never thought how they would actually escape.
"Oh… I don't know. Are we going now?"
"No…" Sirius chuckled lightly. "We'll need a plan first. We need to find a way to sneak off the grounds without anyone noticing, and then I thought maybe we could use your broomstick. I would apparate us somewhere, but I haven't got a wand, and using your wand would immediately alert the ministry," he explained, and at Harry's confused look, he added, "underage wizards aren't allowed to apparate,"
Harry nodded, not completely sure what the word apparate meant. He thought he'd heard the twins talk about it before. He figured it must be some form of transportation. Then, he suddenly remembered the wand hidden beneath his mattress.
"I've got another wand."
Sirius looked at him curiously.
"I took it from the man in the alley. It's up in my dorm. You could use it."
Sirius appeared fascinated. His eyes gleamed with optimism. "That'd be perfect. Good thinking," he said.
Harry felt an overwhelming sense of pride at the man's words. It was an unfamiliar feeling as of late to be praised for something he'd done.
"So, we just have to get outside of the grounds. From there I can take you to my family's home. It's not great, but we could stay there until we found a better place to go."
Harry nodded. "So, when are we going?"
Harry hoped that it would be soon. He couldn't wait to start his new life.
"The castle will be much less crowded over the holiday break. I figure we should go on Christmas Eve. How does that sound?"
"Brilliant."
Thanks for reading! Please leave me a review, and let me know what you think!
