November 1989

Sirius was in a daze, laying on the ground as Padfoot, thinking back to all of the mistakes he had made, as he often did. He wondered, looking for some amount of hope, how Moony was doing raising Harry. Surely, Dumbledore would be offering him plenty of support. Two or three days per month was certainly reasonable, and he probably wouldn't even need to work with the Potters' vaults.

Suddenly, he heard some voices. Actual voices? Yes, not screams from his past or imagination. Honest to goodness talking, not screaming from his fellow inmates. He transformed back to his human form, immediately feeling the weight of the dementors fall wholly on his human shoulders and soul. The small amount of energy he had built up as Padfoot quickly evaporated.

The clinking and clanking accompanying the voices stopped outside his cell. He could see a silver-blue light begin to come towards him, passing through the bars. As it neared, hope swelled in his chest.

"Black, come with us," a slow, deep, steady voice came as another blue light came towards him from the dark.

Sirius stood and tried to stagger to the door, but he fell before he could get there. Wincing in preparation for the impending fall, he was shocked when he felt the grip of magic holding him up. He didn't fight the spell and simply hung limply in the air as the group made their way to the sea.

The hope that the Patronuses provided after years of dementor abuse was twisted. This hope pointed to only one logical reason for the trip he was now taking: someone in the Wizengamot had mustered up the political capital to have him put to death. He couldn't remember the death penalty being used recently. Or even in his lifetime. But he was universally hated - to the fighters of the light he was the man who had betrayed the Potters; to the forces of darkness he was the man who had sent Voldemort to die. Right now, it didn't really matter. Death would be an enormous relief. He'd see Lily again. And James. He fell asleep, calmed by the Patronuses as he floated.

When he awoke, he was surprised. He had expected to wake with a wand at his throat and cold sea spray in his face. Instead, he woke in a comfortable, clean, warm bed. There was a tray in front of him with a large chocolate bar. His eyes continued to search the room, heavily confused when he found… No! "Moony?" he asked, although due to the fact that he hadn't really used his voice for more than screaming in the past half decade, the word came out as a hoarse moan.

Moony jumped, apparently not realizing his friend was coming around.

"Sirius!" he gasped. "It's good to see you! The Healers didn't believe you would come around for some time." Remus Lupin stood, embracing his friend and handing him a mug. "Here, drink this."

Sirius accepted the mug and drank: "Thank you." His voice had escalated to a croak, but the words were at least recognizable as such. "What happened?"

"Peter was caught," Moony answered. "At Hogwarts-"

"Harry!" Sirius interrupted. How long had it been?

"No, my friend. He was posing as the pet rat of one of the Weasley boys. Dumbledore has been fairly unclear as to how he was identified," Remus answered him. "When he was caught, he was interrogated under Veritaserum in front of the Minister, the head of the DMLE, several Aurors, and a few key Wizengamot members. The record was searched, and a few people were surprised to find that Crouch and Fudge never gave you a trial."

A noise between a snort and a growl emanated from Sirius's throat.

Remus ignored Sirius's interruption and continued, "It's been two days since you were released. Pettigrew was tried yesterday. At the end of the trial, he was found guilty, and you were exonerated."

"How's Harry?" Sirius asked, using all the strength in his atrophied arms to push himself upright, looking around. "Where is he?"

Remus looked both confused and downcast. "Why would you ask me?"

"Haven't you been raising him?"

"With my…condition? Of course not."

"Who, then?"

Remus paled, at having to give an answer that he knew Sirius would hate. Bile rose in his throat as he answered, "Lily's sister."

Silence reigned as both men thought back to the stories about her sister.

"We need to get him out," Sirius said, trying to get out of the bed.

"Yes, let's," Remus answered with a snort as Sirius struggled.

First, he tried to lift and swing his legs over the edge of the bed. However, he could barely lift them before they fell. He tried to throw the blanket back, and the pathetic attempt found him winded and only uncovered his torso. Finally he began to roll for the edge of the bed. His legs fell first and hit the ground, still wrapped in the blanket. He nearly tripped, but caught himself on the bed. He pushed himself upright, but over-corrected and couldn't catch himself again, falling flat on his back.

Remus snorted before waving his wand, levitating his friend back into the bed.

"Feeling better?" Remus asked, dryly.

Sirius answered with an entirely impotent glare.

"I agree with you, but I wasn't suitable. Let's try to get you on your feet and back to yourself. Then in six months or so, we can present the case to Dumbledore."

"Sooner than six months."

"As soon as we're both fit enough. Now eat your chocolate."

December 1989

"Are you sure about tonight?" Remus' voice floated in from the other room.

"I owe them my life. Yes, I've been recovering, but I need to do this. I would have visited them at Hogwarts if I could," Sirius answered, infusing his voice with more than a little annoyance.

It had been six weeks or so since Sirius had been released from St. Mungos. After a full week of potions and mothering healers, he was excited to leave, only to find himself with nowhere to go but Grimmauld Place or the trashy apartment that Remus called home. Choosing the latter, he found it was a few steps above a hovel and well entrenched in the "slum" category. Apparently, his friend had trouble keeping a job.

About a week after he had moved in came a negotiation about their living situation.

"If you want Harry to live with you you'll need better security," Remus had said.

"Yes, but-" Sirius tried to interject.

"So you'll need an older home. Something that's been in a wizarding family, especially a powerful and highly regarded wizarding family." Remus continued.

"Yes, but-" Sirius had tried again.

"Or, you'll need to shell out gobs and gobs of galleons for a new home, and then you'll be broke," Remus had continued

"Yes, but I-" Sirius was expecting to be interrupted so he faltered, before finishing, "I don't care about money. That house is evil."

"No." Remus had known by pausing he could knock Sirius off his game. His objective accomplished, he continued to steamroll his friend, "You have bad memories and you don't like the elf, but what better way to stick it to your parents and ancestry than by taking Grimmauld Place and turning it to the Light, forcefully, if necessary." Remus was on a roll. "It will be expensive, but not nearly as expensive as building a new manor or trying to buy one. You won't even have to go inside. As soon as you were released I made some inquiries with a few retired aurors and hitwizards, along with some fairly standard cleaning companies. Send the retirees first to contain any dark artifacts; then let the cleaners have their turn." Remus paused, eyeing Sirius for any objections.

"Then?" Sirius asked, dully.

"Then we go through and destroy or sell anything remaining and decide what to do about Kreacher. You always complained about him, and you made comments about the Malfoy elf, maybe some sort of trade? Anyway, that can be decided later."

"And how long do I have to decide?" Sirius asked, petulantly.

"Is it really a decision?" Remus asked, "If you want Harry to live with you any time in the next year, it's the only choice. Finding a new manor for or even a home with halfway decent wards is a pipe dream, and building will take too long."

Sirius lapsed into a sullen silence while he glared at his remaining friend. After pouting for a bit, he spoke, "Fine. Did you ask how long it would take?"

"It should be ready by Christmas," Remus answered with a smile, tinged with the old smugness of his prefect days.

Unfortunately, Remus' estimate was very optimistic. There had been delay after delay with the old Black home. Even after the short time since Sirius' mother had died, magical pests had begun to infest some of the rooms, and the number of dark and cursed items truly boggled the mind.

The team of four retired aurors ("who had survived a war" Sirius had recalled loudly) had requested a meeting for the day after Christmas. Apparently there were some final problems before they were comfortable stating the 'home' had been cleared.

The Christmas Eve dinner with the Weasleys was meant to be Harry's introduction to some of his future peers. However, as the delays had dragged on, it looked to simply be Sirius' re-introduction to dealing with children. The Weasleys would be absolute chaos if the rumors were to be believed, but he owed them a debt, and he wanted to thank them.

So, he and Remus were getting ready and both were preparing a few figured based on the reputation of the twins that they would appreciate that as much if not more than their thanks.

Once both deemed the other acceptable, which meant Remus losing a ratty tie and Sirius putting on a cleaner shirt, they Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and Flooed to the Burrow. They braced themselves before entering the fire and exited to a calm, comfortable and surprisingly quiet living room.

"Right on time!" Called Mr. Weasley from his worn chair, although he stood as they entered and approached the two men. "Remus, I've seen you at some of the memorials, but it's a pleasure to truly meet you. And Sirius, welcome to The Burrow."

Mrs. Weasley was standing next to him and continued his effusive greetings.

"I don't want to sound overly relieved," Sirius stated, "but I expected a lot more people." Remus elbowed him in the ribs at that comment. "I mean children," Sirius corrected himself.

"Well, if I had to guess, they're playing quidditch," Mr. Weasley said, pulling out a battered pocket watch. "And if I'm not mistaken, Percy will have quit by now and Ginny will have taken his place."

"I still think she's too young," Mrs. Weasley tried to object.

"You try to stop her and you'll just wake up to find her taking midnight flights. That girl was born to fly," Mr. Weasley continued, forestalling his wife. "Anyway, we thought a calmer greeting would be a better option."

"I appreciate that." Sirius answered, settling comfortably into a chair that was worn, but not shabby. "Have you been able to get any more details on how they caught Pettigrew?"

"Indeed, but I think the twins should tell you," Mr. Weasley answered promptly.

The adults settled down for a chat, but Sirius got antsy before too long.

"Are the twins really pranksters?" he asked.

"Of course. I think their birthday being on April Fools Day has led them to believe it's their calling," Mr. Weasley said with a laugh.

"Unfortunately," A scowling Mrs. Weasley chimed in.

"It's not so bad," Remus replied with a smile. "The Marauders got into plenty of trouble pranking. So long as they know where the line is..." This last was said with a knowing look at his friend.

Sirius didn't respond directly, but nodded: "I think that particular choice is what made the idea of my betrayal believable, my stepping over the line as a younger man." A somber silence ensued before Sirius slapped his knees and stood up. "No more depressing talk. Let's go pelt the kids with some snowballs."

Mr. Weasley laughed, and Remus rolled his eyes.

Mrs. Weasley scowled, "If any of my children get are hurt -"

"They'll be fine, Molly," Mr. Weasley said, standing up. "Mr. Lupin, will you be joining us?"

"Of course," Remus answered, standing. "Sirius's aim is atrocious. If we want anyone to actually get hit, we'll need to help him out."