After the Dawn
Chapter Four: Settling In
"How did you hear about what happened with Lily and James?" Sirius asked one of the house elves, a female by the name of Kiby.
"We is getting the Daily Prophet delivered Sir," the house elf replied, bobbing a curtsey. "We is always getting the Prophet, Master Potter made sure of that!"
"Could you bring me the ones that have arrived since the dark lord fell?" Sirius asked, knowing that if he used the word Voldemort, the house elf would panic completely.
"Kiby is going now, sir! Kiby is being right back!" the elf squeaked in reply, disappearing with a muted crack.
Harry was lying in a crib by Sirius's side, asleep. He was the only family left, the house elves all served Harry now … Sirius knew that the house elves needn't obey any of his orders, because it was only Harry who could really command them … But they did anyway.
If they'd been Kreacher … Well, he didn't want to think about that. Suddenly Kiby turned up again, a giant pile of papers in her arms. Sirius hurried forward to relieve her of them.
"Here you is being, Sir. All of the papers since You-Know-Who left," she told him, somewhat breathless.
"Kiby, you could have asked for help bringing those," Sirius told her.
"Kiby is not needing help, Sir. Kiby is being fine on her own! Kiby is going to the kitchens now, to help make Master's dinner!" then she was gone, before Sirius could say anything else.
Sirius sighed, then looked at the papers. Headlines flashed before his eyes, bits of stories, but he didn't really want to read any of them.
Harry Potter saves the world from 'You-Know-Who'… Harry Potter disappears from relatives house … No information released … No word of Harry Potter … Sirius Black still at large … Harry Potter found dead … Sirius had flicked to a different paper before he even realised what it was he'd read last. With a curse, he flicked back to read the article.
Yesterday, the Ministry found the body of a one year old child. It has been released that this might be Harry Potter, the wizarding worlds saviour, who disappeared several months ago.
Since his disappearance, the Ministry has been searching diligently for Harry Potter, but until this, there has been no word. Can the Ministry be trusted? Or are they covering up?
The public has been listening eagerly for news of their hero. Has the Ministry given false evidence, to throw the public off scent? To make us believe that our hero is dead, but really, the Ministry is simply being incompetent, and cannot find anything?
"Who wrote this?" Sirius wondered allowed. "Ah, of course, Rita Skeeter… I remember her from my own time at the Ministry, not content unless she's messing up someone's life."
Do I have any chance of convincing Remus that it wasn't me? Sirius wondered suddenly. With all of these articles, I doubt it … Besides, we never told him we were going to change to Peter. I'll have to catch Peter before anyone will believe me. But how do you find a specific rat, when the world is contaminated by them?
"So what are you going to do to the Dursley's? Abandoning children is against the law, unless its to an orphanage!" Minerva's voice rose to a near shriek as she passed Albus Dumbledore's office.
"But only wizards could prove they were lying when they say that they never found Harry," Albus said heavily. "And the Ministry does not permit us to step in when it comes to Muggle law … not after what Lord Voldemort did."
Minerva flinched at the name, even though the dark lord had not been seen for the past three months. "But surely there is something?"
"Nothing within the law," Albus Dumbledore said heavily. "But they will be punished, somehow, someday. They will pay for the wrong they did to Harry Potter."
His
voice was low and terrible, if Minerva had believed in what she classed as 'divination
nonsense' she might have thought he was making a prophesy. As it was, his words
struck some cord in her.
"Really?" Severus Snape's voice was soft
and cold. "And how will that be, pray?"
"I know not … Perhaps by some Death Eater's hand will justice be delivered," Albus shrugged.
"How do you mean?" Minerva asked, puzzled. Albus had placed wards on the Dursley's house to prevent anyone who wore the dark mark from entering. "The wards would stop them, wouldn't they?"
"The wards would have been activated by them accepting Harry," Albus replied. "Until they do, any Death Eater will be free to walk into their house and kill them all."
Minerva felt a cold smile playing at her lips. She normally disapproved greatly of any Death Eater action, and would never support the vile people, but … For the Dursley's, perhaps a Death Eaters attention would not be so wrong …
She shook her head, not allowing herself to think such thoughts.
***One and a half years later***
Sirius smiled down at his godson. At just over two years of age, Harry was both walking and running. His raven-wing black hair had a silky look to it, hanging to his shoulders and slightly mussed.
At the moment, Harry was sitting on Sirius's lap, and Sirius was reading to him from 'A Quidditch Story' the tale of a young boy who wanted to be a Quidditch star, and wasn't afraid to do whatever it took to achieve his goal.
"Padfoot?" the boy enquired, twisting to look up that man, when Sirius stopped reading. Sirius shook his head and smiled, turning a page in the book and opening his mouth to kept speaking.
Harry smiled happily, attention once more riveted on the book, eyes taking in the moving drawings, chubby babies hands running lightly over the page.
"Quidditch!" he said excitedly, pointing to the word. It was one of the few words that Harry could recognise, when it was written down.
"That's right Harry, Quidditch. Your father used to play Quidditch."
Immediately the book was forgotten. "Daddy? Tell me 'bout daddy," the child said.
Even though he was only just over two years old, Harry had picked up on talking very fast, and for all his small vocabulary, the words he knew he could usually speak perfectly.
"What do you say?" Sirius teased, smiling.
"Tell me about daddy please," the child replied, rolling his eyes off to one side.
Sirius roared with laughter, tickling Harry's side gently, and the boy howled also. When they'd both calmed down, Harry twisted to look up at Sirius again. "Please?" he repeated.
"Alright kid. Once, there was a handsome, popular young man, who could have any girl he wanted, save for one … and a beautiful young woman, who was the only one that young man could not win over with flowered words and pretty smiles … Their names were Lily Evans and James Potter."
"Mummy and daddy?" Harry asked.
"Yeah kid, mummy and daddy," Sirius agreed. "Anyway, James fell in love with Lily, the one girl he couldn't have, the one girl who hated him more than life itself …"
Harry loved hearing about his parents, though he often cried because he'd never gotten to know them. Sirius cried too, for the friends he'd lost, and the godson he had to raise.
Sirius made sure that Harry knew what great people his parents had been. When the boy was older, Sirius would tell him of his parents faults.
Sirius had told this story many times before, but as far as Harry was concerned, he could be told it ten times a day and would not become bored of it.
Soon enough the tale was over. "Quidditch?" Harry asked now.
Sirius laughed. "Oh alright," he said, and stood up, lifting Harry with him. The boy laughed and demanded to be put down.
Once he was set on his feet, Harry was off, running swiftly forward on light feet. He hated moving slowly, and this had quickly prompted him to learn first to walk and then to run.
Sirius knew that Harry could easily fall over, he also knew that he shouldn't coddle the boy too much – he should let Harry learn from mistakes.
In a little while, he'd start teaching Harry ways to fall properly, so that when he tripped – as he did often – he wouldn't hurt himself too much.
Outside, the Grounds-Elf, an older male house-elf by the name of Lub, was waiting with Harry's broom. This was smaller than Sirius's own broom, and had a hight restriction of one metre.
Harry was a natural, Sirius thought with a father pride, watching as his godson mounted the broom, somewhat clumsily. For a two year old, the boy was good. He'd only just started being allowed to fly on his own, up till a month ago, Harry had rode in front of Sirius.
Harry could now take off, land and swerve around the lawns, somewhat manically. By the look of him, Sirius thought, the boy would be a Seeker. You never could tell, of course, but it seemed likely.
***Half a Year Later***
Sirius smiled down at Harry. It was the boy's third birthday. "Hello kiddo!" Sirius greeted his godson.
"Good morning Mr. Black," Harry said, his voice a perfect imitation of the man who read the news report on the wizard wireless.
Sirius laughed, and do did Harry. Harry might not get the joke, but laughing was fun, and if Sirius was laughing, then Harry would too. "Happy birthday!" Sirius added, swooping down suddenly to lift Harry high into the air and swing him around.
Harry shrieked with laughter. "Happy birthday," Sirius said to his godson again. "I've got you some presents."
"Can I open them? Please, Padfoot? Please, please say I can open them!" Harry begged, looking up at his godfather through wide, green eyes.
Sirius laughed. "Who could say no to a face like that? But you have to eat breakfast first."
Harry's face fell slightly. "What's for breakfast?" he asked.
"Whatever you want, but not cake," Sirius replied. "Cake is for later."
"Pancakes," Harry said decisively. "I want pancakes please!"
Sirius watched his godson, smiling almost sadly as he did so. This was the boy who would have to become the wizarding worlds hero. Sirius was not supposed to know what the prophecy said, but Lily and James had ended up telling him of it anyway.
That meant that he, Sirius, would have to raise Harry with this in mind. Harry would have to be able to fight, but he would have to be loved, and know how to love others as well. At least the poor kid wouldn't be stuck with the Dursley's this way.
Harry wolfed his way through the pancakes at warp speed, and Sirius laughed as his godson's eagerness to get to the presents. "Hold up kiddo, the presents aren't going to run away on you!" he told the boy, who grinned at him around a mouthful of pancakes.
Managing to swallow, Harry said, "I know, but that doesn't mean something won't happen to mean that I can't open the presents!"
Sirius grinned. "Come on then. You've eaten enough, we can come back to this later. We'll go and get your presents now shall we. D'you want me to me carry you?"
"No!" Harry said, adamant. "I fly!"
"Ok, we're going to the inside garden then," Sirius said, grinning as Harry scrambled onto his Cleansweep five, one of the better brooms of the time, and set himself perfectly, just as Sirius had taught him.
Gripping the broomstick, Harry leant forwards and shot across the room, down the hallway. Sirius shifted form, and a moment later a giant black dog was hurtling after the broomstick, barking happily.
A few minutes later the pair of them reached the centre of the sprawling mansion, which was a huge, indoor garden, with an overhead ceiling spelled as the Hogwarts Great Hall was to reflect the sky outside.
Inside the garden, the weather could be changed to just about anything, from sunshine to rain, from heat to winters heart, from gentle breeze to hurricane.
Today, Sirius had gone ahead already and preset the garden to a gentle midsummer day, pleasantly warm with a gentle breeze. Harry might be too young to fully appreciate the weather, but it was nice anyway.
"Never a rainy day unless we want it to be," Sirius mused aloud, returning to his human form, though he knew that Harry wouldn't understand what was being said, apart from the words.
"Presents?" Harry asked, turning to look at his godfather.
"Yes Harry, presents," Sirius agreed, smiling gently down on the boy. "Here," he added, handing the boy the first of many gifts that he had managed to get, mostly via owl post, or sending the house elves to shop for him.
With mounting delight, Harry opened gifts of toys, the usual things a young boy would like – broom sticks, stuffed toys, a little magical guitar that played music, moving posters of Quidditch players.
Harry opened each present with relish, delighting in the gifts that his godfather showered upon him.
Sirius soon left Harry to his own devices, playing with his new toys in the garden. He knew that there would be a house elf somewhere close by if Harry hurt himself in any way.
He headed towards the duelling rooms – the Potter mansion literally had everything, from libraries to duelling rooms, small out of the way sitting rooms and huge places were hundreds of people could be easily accommodated.
There was even a Room of Requirement, one of only two of its kind in existence, the other one being at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Sirius was determined to keep up his practice as a dueller – he'd been an Auror before the warrant for his arrest had been issued, and there was no way that he was going to let himself get sloppy.
"Besides," he murmured to himself. "You have to teach Harry all this stuff sometime, and it won't do if you've forgotten half of it yourself!"
Far away from the Potter mansion, a white rat with red eyes and a single missing toe on it's front paw scuttled across the drive way at the Burrow.
Outside, a young boy was playing with a broken-looking toy broomstick.
Had he been in human form, Peter Pettigrew might have smiled – perfect. A wizarding house! From here, he could keep an ear out for news of his master, Lord Voldemort, and live an easily life.
Not liking the idea, but knowing it was necessary, he made his way over to the young boy, who immediately seized the rat, which was much more interesting than broomsticks to play with!
With an inaudible sigh, Peter, who would hence be known as 'Scabbers' allowed young Percival Weasley to 'play' with him, writhing free of the boys clutching hands if he was hurt too much.
Here, in disguise, he could wait for something to happen. He knew that Sirius was still on the loose, and he knew that if his 'friend' caught up with him, Peter would be in Azkaban and Sirius would be completely free …
No, in disguise and being the pet of a family of wizards was far better than being dead at the hands of Death Eaters, who thought he'd betrayed them, or Azkaban because Sirius, who knew he'd betrayed the Potters, had managed to get hold of him.
Peter squeaked loudly as the boy pulled his tail. This was going to be a long few years.
***
Well, that wasn't really a cliffie either! Wow, this is amazing! I'm not using cliffies much any more!!
~WolfMoon~