In Hiding

Chapter 3: New Identities

Disclaimer: any and all references to Harry potter and affiliated persons belong to the author J.K. Rowling, scholastic publishers, Warner brothers, and lots of other ppl. More specifically, not me!! Thanks, and happy reading!

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Sirius was starting to panic.

He had flown all night, over thousands of miles of ocean, enduring winds, rain, and a few nasty sea gulls that had threatened to overthrow the bike. Sirius, terrified of doing magic, for fear the ministry would see the traces and find him, had to make do with screaming at them, which only aggravated Harry more, until the child was screaming himself in Sirius' arms. That had actually driven the birds away better than Sirius's shouts, much to Sirius' surprise.

He had flown through all that, only to come to a crowded, smelly, dirty, yelling, frightening place called New York City.

He had landed-with much trepidation at being spotted, but it could not be helped-at dawn's first light, making better time than Sirius had expected. The bike had touched ground in the banks of some river, in the back alley of two buildings.

His first move was to check the bundle of blankets and ebony hair that was the baby Harry. Seeing his godson in perfect health, sleeping peacefully, gave him hope. The boy brought painful memories to Sirius. Times with James and Lily that he wished to forget at the moment. But at the same time, the peacefulness of the babe's sleep reinstated Sirius's reason for being here. For flying away from all he had ever known, abandoning his closest friends for the year old son of his dead best friend. It was all so confusing in his mind, all of the memories and theories of the past month. But the one thing that he was sure of at that moment was the child in his arms. Harry was all that mattered. Sirius's only reason for being right now was to protect this child, as was his duty that had been entrusted to him as the boy's godfather.

Sirius looked up at the new country he was in with resolve. He stared down the sunrise, knowing that he had no choice but to go on. He had to, for Harry, if nothing else.

He was not foolish though. He knew, because of the minority of people that had known of the switch between himself and Peter as Secret Keepers, (stupidly, they hadn't even told Remus!) that he would be a wanted man in Brittan, and most likely the rest of the world, sooner or later.

He would have to be careful, very careful, going about things. He certainly couldn't just acclimate himself as Sirius Black in the American Wizarding world. He would have to get a new identity, for himself, and most likely Harry as well. He sighed. There was a lot to be done.

Sirius's next decision was obvious, and much needed. He disabled the flying charm on the motorcycle, enabling it to act as a normal muggle one. Once that was done, he could travel as a muggle for a while. He quickly drove out of the alley, and onto the already busy New York street.

As he weaved in and out of the cars with his motorcycle, holding tightly the still sleeping Harry, it occurred to him that this was not the safest way to travel with a child. His arm was throbbing; he hadn't had a rest in hours. The taxicab that had almost side-winded him on 2nd street didn't help either. He came to the almost sad realization that he would have to sell his precious motorbike.

Sirius pulled to a stop some minutes later outside of New York's famous Central Park, and home of the Central Park Magic, Amusement and Learning Lane, or MALL for short. Sirius stared for a moment. This was the 'Diagon Alley' for America, or so Sirius had heard. He had only been to America once in his life, and that was on the West Coast, during a summer holiday with his parents when he had been young.

Every major city had a Mall, and wizards all over could Apparate or Floo to the entrance and pass the magical barrier. Sirius parked the motorbike on the sidewalk, hoping this wasn't where he could get ticketed, and headed into the park. He only hoped he could find his way to the entrance.

Sirius knew the Mall was a long strip of walkway, paved in brick, and lined with trees, and the Magical entrance was achieved by stepping on the right sequence of bricks on the road. He was only worried because, as hard as he was trying to remember, he couldn't recall what sequence the bricks went, or, more importantly, how in the world to get to the Mall entrance from where he was. This was going to be a problem.

He came into the park past a colossal statue, on a massive pedestal, of what looked like a man, with gatherers behind him or sum such. A historic piece for America, no doubt, Sirius thought. He was not learned in the histories of the world. He would also have to acclimate himself to this as well, he thought resignedly.

As he walked through the park, he looked for signs that could tell him where to go, or people in cloaks to ask for directions. He was a bit weary about asking someone else though. He had no idea of the British ministry had contacted America's yet, or if the public knew what everyone in Britain would believe by now. After thirty minutes of wandering around the park, he resolved to ask a muggle where this brick pathway was. There were not many people out, but a few who could be of service. It was only dawn.

He switched Harry from his left arm to the right, shaking out his aching arm. He headed toward a young looking couple sitting and talking at a giant fountain.

"Pardon the intrusion," he said politely, as the couple turned to look at him, all too aware of his strong English accent. "I was wondering if you could direct me to an area of the park. It's quite a large brick path, with big trees lining it?" He inwardly cringed at the stupidity of his description, but it could not be helped.

The woman smiled at him. "Yes, The Mall," Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise. Were these two wizards? "It's just north of here a bit. If you follow that path, you'll get there in no time."

As Sirius thanked them, a small yawn came from the covered bundle in his arms, and the couple looked at the emerging child.

"Your son?" the man asked, smiling.

"Er, yeah," Sirius replied, smiling slightly. He hated lying. He was good at it, when the occasion called, but he hated it all the same.

He resettled the child in his arms and thanked the couple again before quickly walking down the path the woman had pointed out. It was a beautiful walk, and as small Harry began to wiggle in his blankets, Sirius enjoyed a moment's happiness at the parks wonder, and the warmth of the rising sun, and the angelic look on his godson's face. For one glorious moment he pretended to forget the fact that he was a wanted criminal, that he had helped murder his best friends, and orphan his godson. He could overlook the truth that he had no idea how to raise a child, or what he was going to do to make a safe life for the two of them. He imagined for a single moment, that all was right in his world, and that today's dawn would bring him what he most desired: his life back.

But, as Harry began to whimper with hunger, and Sirius developed a cramp in his side, he was forced to come to terms with reality. He was in a foreign country, with a kidnapped child, as a wanted killer. Could things possibly get any worse?

Sirius wanted to slam his head into something as he thought those words. Everything got worse when you thought it couldn't and said it. He found his intuition was correct, as he got closer to the Mall, and his heart sank as if a lead weight had been attached.

In small groups, in seemingly random places along the long brick-paved road, there were small groups of very obvious wizards. They had not even pretended to dress as muggles. They wore bright colored robes, and even a few wore hats. They stood in clumps of four or five, all leaning in, and whispering rapidly. Sirius caught a few snatches of conversation as he walked past, and what he heard made his stomach sink along with his heart.

"Did you hear, the Potters."

"House destroyed, street in ruins."

"Not even a Dark Mark."

"Their son, yes, a baby, Harold, or something."

"You-know-who, just gone!"

Sirius came to an abrupt stop at the last snatch. Voldemort, gone? How was that possible? Against his better judgment, he leaned a little closer to the last group.

"Rumor has it the baby defeated him!"

"How can a child defeat a grown Dark wizard?"

"Dunno, must be awful powerful."

"What happened to the child? Is he dead?"

"That's the scary part. My friend, in Surrey, told me they haven't found the boy. Not a trace."

"Some Dark wizards made off with him no doubt."

Sirius, until now listening with rapt attention, realized what a danger he was in. He was walking around, unprotected, undisguised, with Harry Potter, the child who had killed a dark lord? He sidled away from the group, trying not to be noticed. It was too late.

"Hey!" Sirius went rigid, but turned to look at the speaker. "What are you doin' here?"

The man who had called him was in jade blue robes, with sandy brown hair and sunglasses to ward off the bright morning rays. The others looked curiously at him. Sirius was all too aware of his windblown hair from the bike ride, and his rumpled black robes, and, as always, the bundle of blanket now on his chest. He thought fast, his marauder skills on full alert. He once again sank into the calm aloofness of his Hogwarts days.

"Just trying to get some of the gossip," he answered with a sly smile, grinning inwardly as he saw two of the females in the group smirk. "You know, been out of the loop for a while."

The witches nodded, motioning him to step closer. Sirius was apprehensive. The women were very attractive, (that had always been a weakness at school) but the child in his arms came first. The temptation was killing him though.

"Ah, so you hear what happened in England then?" Another man asked, this one with light hair and blue eyes.

Sirius nodded nonchalantly. "Heard enough."

The group stared at him for a moment, before nodding. He thought for a moment they were going to get back to their discussion, and leave him to walk away safely, but he was all out of luck for today.

"Is that a baby you got there?" one of the women asked, smiling broadly at him. She was brunette, with deep brown eyes, and pale skin. Sirius could tell she was interested in him; by the way she leaned into him to get a look at Harry, and the look in her eyes. Sirius felt some of his apprehension melting away, to be replaced with the cockiness that he had always dominated the playing field with.

"Yeah, he's a baby," Sirius laughed. "My own." The brunette looked fascinated, while Sirius saw her friends behind her roll their eyes. He almost laughed out loud. "He's a good kid."

"Can I hold him?" She reached for the child without a response, and as she touched the baby, Harry began to whimper. Sirius realized his folly only a moment too soon.

"Oh, so sorry," Sirius quickly said, stepping back to place room between him and the brown eyed girl. "He doesn't like strangers too much. Must be going." He smiled at the group, nodding, and quickly walked away. Harry was still whimpering, a mix between a pitiful whine and a sob. Sirius felt absolutely retched. He had forgotten his place, his surroundings, and most importantly, Harry.

"Shhh, Harry. Shhh, I'm sorry," Sirius tried to comfort the crying child, knowing he was failing. He began to fear people were staring at him, so he quickly started to look for the starting point for the entrance. There was a large circle, with something written on it, he didn't bother to look, right in the center. He stepped here, and walked three steps foreword, and two the right, going on the assumption that it worked for Diagon Alley and its' bricks, why shouldn't it work in America.

Apparently, America didn't agree with him. Nothing happened except little Harry got a bit louder. Sirius tried a few more sequences, trying desperately to remember what he had learned so long ago on his trip to America.

Finally, after twenty minutes of looking like a complete idiot, and Harry getting predictably louder, a short, tubby man in yellow and maroon robes jogged over to him, a large grin on his face.

"Trying to enter the Mall now are we?" Sirius frowned, his patience for the day just about used up.

"Yes, could you please tell me how?" If he sounded rude, he didn't care at the moment.

"Me and a bunch of buddies had a bet as to how long you would keep it up, but it got quite boring after a while." Sirius gaped at him. Were all Americans so discourteous?

"Well, are you going to show me or not?" he demanded, shifting arms with Harry again.

The portly man laughed and motioned for Sirius to follow. He did, grumbling under his breath about rude Americans and stupid bricks.

The yellow clad man lead him to the beginning of the lane, and stood on the right corner brick. Sirius moved to stand behind him. "Well?" he pushed, when the man did nothing.

"All you have to do, is count seven steps up from this one," the man stated as he walked foreword. "And then two steps to the right, and one," turned to face Sirius before walking, "to the back." As he took the last step he shimmered for a moment, then disappeared altogether. Sirius started, and then looked around to see of any muggles had noticed. Many already swarmed through the park, jogging, walking or strolling down the street. None seemed to have noticed the man just vanish. Must have charms or something, he thought to himself, before counting the foreword steps. He went up seven, to the right two, and then, holding tight to the struggling Harry, stepped back a brick.

The entire world grew distorted, fuzzy, and then broke completely Sirius was suddenly standing in the middle of a marketplace, underneath a sign that read, The Central Park Mall.

Sirius smiled. Finally he had made it. Shifting the child in his harms again, (he was heavy!) he made his way to the distinctive white columned building of Gringotts wizarding bank.

As he entered the familiar building, he exclaimed at its identicalness to Diagon Alley's. Amazing, really, the feats of the Wizarding World. The Goblins running this bank were just as courteous as the ones in Britain. They opened the door for him, bowing. There were many rows of tellers, helping people count out Knuts and Galleons alike. There was even an exchange counter, he saw, just to his right. He would have to get his money turned into American dollars when he came out.

He made his way to an empty teller, digging in his robe pocket to find his key. Once he had it, he stepped up to the window and smiled tightly, more than a little bit nervous. "A Sirius Black to empty his account," he told the waiting goblin.

"Do you have you're key?" the goblin said stoically. Sirius handed him the key quickly, praying the goblin wouldn't ask questions, and praying America knew nothing of his name quite yet.

If they did, Gringotts didn't care. The goblin nodded, after inspecting the key, and waved another idle goblin over. "Ivanblac will escort you to your vault." The second goblin nodded, and started toward a door to the side. Sirius followed, and they both got into the cart. Sirius shifted Harry, making sure the blankets were secure on the ride down. As much as Sirius had loved the carts as a boy at Hogwarts, and even as an adult, they were cold, and he didn't want the child to catch sick. It would just add to his problems.

They reached the vault in little time. Harry, as was his habit, Sirius had noticed, was quiet all the way. When they reached his vault, the goblin stayed in the cart, and Sirius hurried to do what he came to. For the first time in his life, he emptied his entire Gringotts bank account. It felt odd; like this was one step closer to running away permanently from the Wizarding World. He sighed as he got back into the cart, bulging bag of coins in one hand, and Harry, calmly looking at all of the mines and underground caverns with emerald-eyed interest.

As they went back to the main building, bouncing madly in the cart, Sirius studied those eyes. Just like Lily's. It was almost painful to see those eyes on a child. To know he would never see them again in a beautiful, caring and wonderful friend that he had once had. She would never be able to see her son grow up. And James. oh god James. Sirius couldn't begin to describe how much his pain of missing James pained him. His ally, his companion in all that was mischievous, his best friend. It hit Sirius Black right then, in that infernal Gringotts cart, plummeting through dark caverns with a goblin, and his godson in his arms, that he would never, not ever, see his best friend and his best friend's wife again. He would never again be able to go to the Potter manor after work, showing up unannounced, and being greeted without surprise. He stayed at their house as much as his own, sometimes more. He had played with Harry for a year, taught him horrible things to say to make his mother angry, and funny things to say to make his father laugh. Sirius thought about James laughing. He had always had an aura about him; a way of acting that told the world that he owned it. But when he laughed, it was a joyous experience for all. He had made everyone around him want to laugh as well. Even those who had been pranked, the normal reason for James to be laughing in the first place. Everyone had loved James and Lily. They had the perfect life. And that was all over now. It would never be perfect again, because of him, Sirius Black, and a stupid, cowardly suggestion to switch.

He was launched out of his tumble through memories by the screeching stop of the cart. The goblin hopped out and extended a hand to help him as well. Sirius, startled, got out quickly, trying to recover from his painful memories. He was never going to get any sleep.

He exchanged almost all of his money for American, at an ungodly exchange rate, and hurried out of the bank. He needed to hurry through the Mall. All that he needed he ran over in his head. Clothes, for both him and Harry. Harry especially, as the child was still in soot covered pajamas. Food, some that wouldn't go bad for a while. And a trip down a street he really didn't want to go through. But it needed to be done. He couldn't acclimate himself properly into American society without certain things, and certain things could only be achieved through, well, what Sirius considered very Slytherin-ish ways.

Sirius went to get the clothes first. He bought a couple of sets of muggle clothes from a second hand shop: a few pairs of pants and shirts. He was used to wearing muggle clothing, as he very much liked just being in the muggle world sometimes. While his parents and family were pureblooded, he had always respected, and even admired the British Muggle world. He hoped he could say the same for the American one.

He also bought a multitude of outfits for his godson. Harry seemed to be fascinated with the woman who was helping them. He found minute shirts and pants that the saleswoman just exclaimed over, and a pair of very small runners. The American woman had called them sneakers, but Sirius had just shaken his head at her. Americans had the funniest names for things.

After clothes came food. There was a small market at the mall, were one could buy all kinds of food. He purchased enough to last them a few days while he got their affairs in order, and figured out what he would do here.

He finished his normal shopping as his arms were beginning to weigh down considerably, with the extra poundage of Harry, who was past beginning to fuss, and the bags of clothes and food that he had bought. He told himself that it would be too much of a hassle to set everything down and put a weightless charm on the lot of it. If he realized that he was afraid of the British ministry swooping down on the site of him doing magic, he didn't admit it consciously.

Instead, he turned down a darkened alley, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was looking. A sign dangled at the top of a battered archway proclaiming this place to be simply The Alley.

If The Mall was the Diagon Alley of America, than this was the Knockturn Alley. Here was where stores were able to sell questionable materials without the worry of officials walking the streets, seeing their wares. Here Sirius would be able to speak with a few shady people, who, among other things, would be able to help him with a few problems with the American government. He had spent a lot of the flight over thinking about what he would do to disappear into the American society, and this was one step.

As he walked down the alley, he realized that he would not be able to do this with the packages and Harry. Apart from being bulky and heavy, one of the two were liable to be stolen. He saw a vacant bench on the road, and, with a wary eye to the others on the street, he set his parcels down and switched Harry to his other arm. Pulling out his wand with another look around, he cast a strong weightless charm on the packages, and then shrunk them to put them in his pockets. Most wizards would just simply shrink them, but the minute objects tended to weigh the same as their original size if the wizard performing the spell was not very good at charms. With a twist in his heart he remembered that Lily had taught him that. He shoved those memories to the recesses of his mind as he stood back up.

He continued down the cobbled street, weaving around robed and hooded figures. This was not the safest place for a child. Sirius simply hoped he wouldn't have to spend any longer here than necessary. He stopped at a shop labeled simply Papers and went in quietly, silently urging the wiggling tot in his arms to keep quite.

The store was dirty. It held a multitude of desks, all lining the walls, all covered with stacks of crumbling parchment. Sirius looked around, taking in the dim light bulb dangling from the ceiling, bare of a cover, and the peeling brown of the walls. He wondered idly if that was wallpaper, or simply dirt. He saw too, a counter on the far side, with mountains of papers on each side creating a small window to look into the back of the shop. He walked toward that, looking around at the room as he moved. It gave him an overall feeling of gangster movies he had seen; the rooms in which deals and arguments went down. He shuddered, but continued to the counter.

Just as he was wondering what he had to so to receive help, a man popped up from behind the counter, with a barking "What?"

Sirius blinked, startled. He quickly came out of it though, as this man glared down at him. "I need some help." He replied. The man was intimidating enough. He was tall, with a mop of oily black hair that reminded Sirius of Snape. He had small, watery black eyes, and a long face that ended in a very pointy chin. He looked down his long nose at Sirius as if he was a very small child.

"What kind of 'help' are you looking for, then?" the man asked with a sneer. Defiantly looks too much like Snape, Sirius thought reproachfully. Shifting Harry in his arm, he decided that he did not have time to deal with annoying clerks who thought too highly of themselves. He advanced on the counter slowly, the steely glint in his eyes getting more pronounced as he proceeded.

Half an hour later Sirius walked calmly out of the Mall and into Central Park. He held Harry close to his side, shrunken and weightless packages and all of his Gringotts account in muggle money in one pocket, and in the other a folder full of stamped and legalized muggle documents that gave Harry and himself identification, American citizenship and Sirius a drivers license in California.

From the Mall exit, he hurried to the exit of Central Park, where he hoped his bicycle was still waiting. As he got closer to the entrance he had come from this morning, he could barely make out his old motorbike standing just where he had left it. He quickened his pace just as he noticed another motorcycle next to his, with a man in a blue suit and hat getting off of it. Sirius's heart leapt into his throat. It was a police officer.

He slowed down, and meandered towards a large pillar near the parking lot. He stopped to set Harry down, letting the boy walk unsteadily and inspect the bugs on the sidewalk, one eye on the policeman. He appeared to be looking at the bike from all angles and then sporadically writing things down on a notebook.

Just as Sirius was about to pick up Harry and forget about his treasured motorcycle, the police officer ripped a piece of paper from his notepad, attached to the motorcycle, and then drove away. Sirius breathed a sigh of relief just as Harry giggled at a ladybug crawling on his hand. He scooped up his godson, ladybug and all, and made his way back to his motorcycle, taking a meandering course, just in case the police officer decided to come back for something.

He tore the paper off of his windshield reading. It was a parking ticket. It crumpled it in his hand and threw it on the ground. The bike wasn't going to be his long enough for anyone to notice he hadn't paid a parking ticket. He had considered selling the bike somehow, but after the morning spent shopping, realized that it would take him too long, and he had no idea how to advertise a British motorcycle in New York. He would simply leave it in the parking lot to the airport, his next destination.

Two hours later, with Sirius short one temper, he angrily parked his motorcycle into the parking lot of LaGuardia Airport. The directions he had received from a gentleman at the Mall had been shotty, and the long night of no sleep, three hours of shopping and then bad traffic had put him into a foul temper. Harry, who was beginning to get extremely cranky, was tucked into Sirius's leather jacket, the zipper lowered partially for the boy to get some air. He was extraordinarily heavy, and Sirius would be happy when he got to the terminal and sorted things out.

The weight wasn't the only thing making him irritated. Harry's position also brought back painful memories. He had loved carrying Harry in his soft leather jacket when visiting James and Lily. The child had loved it too. Lily had threatened to hex him until he couldn't reproduce when she found her son in the depths of the coat, but he and James had always just laughed, and eventually Lily would just huff off, taking Harry with her. Now Sirius would give anything to have them back here, yelling at him, even his prized motorcycle.

With that thought he frowned. It seemed he was going to have to be rid of his bike anyway now. He took Harry out of his jacket, where the little boy was beginning to squall and set him on the seat of the bike, steadying him with one hand. With the other he quickly stripped the bike of all of his possessions. He took off the expensive leather bags on the back, which were filled now with the packages he had purchased at the Mall, draped it over his shoulder, and pried the invisibility booster and the flying charm buttons out of the handlebars. He didn't want to be responsible for any muggles wandering the skies with his motorcycle. With one final sigh, he picked up his godson and the bags, and laid a hand on the engine hull.

A million memories flooded his mind about his motorbike. He had treasured the thing, spending many a night polishing the rich midnight black steel and chrome handlebars, waxing and rubbing to keep it gleaming. He remembered James, Remus and Peter, envying him for the sleek vehicle when they were younger. He remembered his parents and Lily sharing the opinion that he was nuts to be riding it, and referring to it as a suicycle. He saw in his minds eye trips and adventures that he and his friends had had on this bike, and the hours spent soaring the skies. He fingered the small dog emblazoned on the side of the bike, hidden so only a careful, critical eye would catch it.

This bike had been his life for many years. With one hand on his godson, his belongings, and all that waited for him in his future, and one on the glorious motorcycle, it seemed to him the last object of his past. The last piece that he would be giving up to forever. A life that he could never go back to. He wondered for a fleeting, mutinous, selfish moment if it was worth it. He looked at the crying baby in his arms, the child that he would have to raise and care for for the rest of his life. He realized with a panicky jolt that he didn't know. He didn't know, but he would go through with what he promised his best friends. He would not abandon their son to the mercy of the wizarding world. He would do what he set out to do, even if it meant the life that he had always wanted and thought he would have would be shattered.

He turned away from the motorcycle, and turned his back on all he knew, and headed toward the unknown and defiantly uncertain future, arms wrapped tightly around a small bundle of untidy black hair and emerald eyes that was to become his entire world, and his only reason for living.