(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my
situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by
copyrights.)
(Note to readers under 13: Again, there's a reason why it's rated what it's rated.)
"Hey! Wormtail! Down here!" Sirius shouted from the bottom of the steps. There was a groan, and then a very sick looking Peter appeared at the top of the staircase.
He hadn't looked good all evening, and Sirius had told him he could go home if he wanted to. But he hadn't. He had insisted on staying.
The screaming of the infant came back loud and clear.Well, he really wasn't an infant anymore. Harry had grown amazingly in the past eight months. He had celebrated his first birthday, and now he was walking, saying a few choice words, and recognizing the boys when they came over.
Yet he wasn't grown up yet. Sirius and Peter still had baby duty this evening while Harry's parents were out. Sirius couldn't wait until the boy had been introduced to indoor plumbing. But for right now, he was subject to hold baby powder in one hand, and a diaper in the other.
They hadn't had to always do this, resort to Sirius Black as a baby- sitter. Before, James had had his in-laws, and of course occasionally Alice Longbottom or Emmeline Vance.
Alice had been gone for over half a year now, and Emmeline was away on some duty with Mad-Eye. That left the good ol' Marauders to take over the household for the evening.
"Doggy!" Harry laughed, pointing at Sirius as he came waddling into the living room, holding his stuffed dog that he had gotten for Christmas, "Doggy!"
"Maybe you should stop transforming in front of him now," Peter said, weakly coming down the stairs, "He's starting to talk. What if he points to you and goes Doggy one day in front of people?"
"Yeah, I bet you're right," Sirius said, looking at his godson, before setting his supplies on the fireplace, and closing his eyes. In a few moments, Padfoot stood where Sirius had.
"Sirius!" Peter scowled. Padfoot smirked as only a dog can smirk, and nuzzled against the side of Harry. Harry laughed, and petted Padfoot on the back. Both of them looked content, and Peter groaned. He knew he couldn't surpass that with a rat. Harry would just scream and squish him with his stuffed puppy.
"Doggy!" Harry squealed again, and in an instant, Padfoot had turned back into Sirius, and was reaching for his godson.
"Calm down, Wormtail," Sirius said, picking Harry up in his arms, "Who's he gonna tell? And more importantly, who'd believe him?"
Peter shrugged, and followed the two of them into the new kitchen. It was the fifth kitchen that the boys had seen. The fifth kitchen in which Harry had eaten. The fifth kitchen in which Harry's mother had prepared dinner. The fifth kitchen his father had bought.
It was a dark time, these days that they had found themselves in. The house that they now found themselves living in was grungy and filled with dirt from the sooty streets and air outdoors. It someone penetrated their house's walls, and inflitrated their living quarters. Sirius thought of all the different kitchens he had looked at during his nights with Harry, and dinners with Harry's parents.
First they had moved out of their first house. That had been the hardest to say goodbye to. They had lived there since the beginning of their marriage, and they hadn't wanted to say goodbye. As Lily said, they had been given Harry while living in that house. But they had packed their things, and shipped off to a different town and a different address.
The second house had been shingled black on the rooftop, and it had needed some sprucing up. They had all pitched in one weekend, with their spells that they had learned about house cleaning from assorted books, and had managed to make it presentable for Lily when she saw it for the first time. The three boys (James, Sirius, and Peter), had worked night and day for two days on the exterior, and it had meant the world to her. Sadly, that house no longer stood. It had been burnt to the ground by an unknown person two weeks later.
The third house had been an urban house, stuck between two other two stories, and sporting red brick. It had had one bedroom, and James told his family they'd have to deal with their situation, due to the fact that he was quickly running out of his father's legacy money, and he wished to save some for after the war and for Harry's education. James was what Sirius liked to refer to as "rich," but he still was dwindling now. It had been in that house that a cryptic message had been painted on the door by wand in an invisible force. It had only been Lily's keen eye for charms that she realized it was there. When she revealed the force, it only showed an "X" on their front door. It was written in green, and they reported it to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore made them evacuate the house as soon as he received this news.
Two hours after their evacuation, spys reported a dark figure approaching the house, almost floating inside, and a blood curtling howl come from inside. The house then fell to the ground, and the dark figure disappeared. No Dark Mark was left, and the remnants of the "X" charm vanished.
They had spent a night at Headquarters, and Dumbledore had tried to pursuade James to go into hiding once more. Sirius could still recall the look on his friend's face as the Headmaster leaned over him, almost pleading for him to retire.
"I can't do that," were the only words that James had given the old man.
The last house that they had moved into before this one had been more of a permanent stay. It was almost like their first home; furnished with the nicest of things and filled with the warmth of a family's love. Yet it had lasted the least amount of time. Their second night in their newly found bedroom, the front door downstairs had been kicked in, and a few black shadows flew in through the door. They were Death Eaters, and if it hadn't been for Harry's crying, Lily and James would have been killed in their own bed. James had fought them off before they could get up the stairs, while Lily grabbed Harry and headed for the fireplace in their room. James had then stunned them all, dove into the fireplace after his family, and had arrived in Sirius's new home. The next morning, when the three Potters returned with Sirius to their address . . . the house was demolished.
And yet, James would not hide.
This fifth house had been occupied by the little family for a little over a month. Nothing had happened to it yet, and they had decided, almost out of desperation for any happy thought, that nothing would ever happen to it. This is the only thought that had kept Sirius comfortable in the walls of his friend's home.
The fifth kitchen. The fifth house. The fifth chance for a better life.
A fifth reason for James to run.
Now Sirius realized why his friends asked him to watch their son. It wasn't because no one else was available. It was because they trusted him to save their son if the time came to run.
Harry babbled in his godfather's arms as Peter went to the cupboards for food. Sirius held the one-year-old tighter in his arms as he looked out the window, and to the moon.
It was full tonight.
The night covered the street like a cloak of foreshadowing. With the night came fear, and with fear came death. The dementors began to file out from between the houses. Sirius could sense them in the shadows of darkness. Yet, they were safe inside the house. Every light in the little home was turned on, and he sat in the bedroom, rocking Harry to sleep in the chair. Now the house was quiet. Peter had left, complaining of bad stomach aches, and now there were no noises to be heard but the distant breathing of the boy. Sirius closed his eyes, and rested his head against the back of the chair.
Back and forth he went. Back, forward, back, forward. Rocking like the wind, Harry safely in his strong arms. His Harry. Nothing would hurt either of them tonight.
He don't know when exactly he fell asleep, but it was not long after he thought to himself, "If only life were really this perfect." It was the sort of sleep where reality mixes with fantasy, and one does not realize that they are truly dreaming.
It was in this dream that he was rocking Harry, and the full moon from outside the nursery's window began to grow. It became closer and closer to the branches of the tree outside, and not before long could Sirius make out the craters in its surface. The light of the moon was cast onto the wood of the floor, and shone perfectly on the door that led to the hallway. It was here that he could see a figure of someone, holding their wand to the door, and chanting something.
"Who are you?" he asked, Harry still in his arms.
The figure laughed, and Sirius swore he knew that laugh. It was one that he had heard before, somewhere . . .
"It draws nearer," the figure sneered, "It draws nearer."
"What? What draws nearer? What are you talking about?" Sirius demanded.
The figure only laughed again, and then disappeared. On the doorway, Sirius could see what it had been drawing.
A green X.
A large, bold, green X.
He opened his eyes, and he could feel his voice screaming. It had been a while since he had woken up screaming. Harry was jolted awake, and he started to cry.
Sirius stood up, and stared at the door. It was a normal door. He snapped his head to look at the window. The moon was its normal size, millions of miles away.
Just a dream.
A dream.
A . . .
A door slammed from downstairs. Sirius froze. A door. Someone had entered.
Footsteps. In the main parlor. On the first floor.
His heart pounded, and he clasped Harry tighter. Harry grew quiet, and he gave a little whimper.
"Doggy?" he asked, unsure of the present situation.
"Shhh," Sirius said, stepping silently towards the hallway, "Quiet, Harry. Quiet."
Two sets of footsteps. One loud, and the other a little more graceful. A young boy and a middle aged man, Sirius concluded. They were walking together. He held his breath, and then listened for their voices.
He heard them, whispering, their words being carried up the stairs and into the second floor corridor.
"Find the Potter child," the man said to his younger apprentice.
Sirius's eyes grew wide, and he ducked back into the room. What was he going to do? There was no way to get to the fireplace, no way out of the house without jumping through the window and killing himself. What was he supposed to do? What was . . .
"It's just like school," he whispered to himself, "Just like Hogwarts. It's just Filch and Mrs. Norris. That's it."
How would James get out? How would he . . .
Something silver from Harry's closet caught his eye, and he flew across the room to snatch it. The Invisibility Cloak. James had put it in his son's room. Sirius flung it over himself and Harry, and then quietly stepped out into the hallway. They had to make it to the parlor, where the fireplace was. They had to make it there. They had to.
The nightmare was still haunting him.
"Are his parents away?" the boy could be heard from the top of the staircase. Sirius spotted the two of them, milling around between the two rooms of the first floor: the kitchen and the parlor. They were both donned in black cloaks and white masks, their wands out and ready to use.
"Yes," the man informed him, "According to our source, yes. Remember, do not hurt the child. We must give him to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord must be the one to dispose of him."
"I am aware of that," the boy hissed, and they entered the parlor.
Damn, Sirius thought. They stood between him and the fireplace. He had to get through them somehow.
Harry felt the fear coming from Sirius, and he grew still in his godfather's arms. The little boy was counting on him. He had to try.
He had to.
Sirius skipped the first step as he started down the staircase, knowing that it would creak. For an instant, his left shoe became uncovered, and he watched with anticipation as the older Death Eater almost caught a glimpse of it protruding from thin air. But he didn't, and the two continued searching the parlor.
"Mr. Black," the man said, "We know that you are here. Hand over the boy, and you will go unscathed."
Fifth step. One by one, he made it to the eighth step. The last step. And then to the first floor carpet.
He could see the fireplace now, illuminated by the lights of the living room. He could see the Floo Powder setting next to it. He had to make it. He had to.
"Mr. Black, we know that you are alone," the man continued, "You will not be hurt if you give us the child."
The boy was inches from Harry's right hand. Sirius held him closer to his chest, and held his breath. He froze as the boy passed them by a hair, and went to the staircase to take a look at the second floor.
Three more steps to the fireplace. Three more steps.
"Do you hear that?" the man said to the boy.
"Hear what?"
Two more steps.
"That sound. It's footsteps . . ."
"I don't hear anything."
One more step.
"It's like . . ."
"Doggy!" Harry squealed as Sirius squeezed him too tight. Sirius froze, and the two Death Eaters froze.
"I heard that," the boy said.
"Shut up," the man said, and turned in Sirius's direction, "They're over there somewhere."
"Maybe the house is haunted . . ."
"The house isn't haunted," the man muttered to himself, his voice muffled by his mask. He moved closer to the two of them, standing one step away from the hearth. Sirius could feel Harry's heart pounding in time with his.
They had to run.
They had no other choice.
"Mr. Black?" the man said once more.
Sirius didn't answer.
"Mr. Black, we will kill you if you do not give us the boy," the man said.
Sirius didn't answer.
He could see the Floo Powder next to his left hand. He had to try for it. He had to run.
In a flash he threw off the cloak, and thrust his hand into the pot of ash, Harry screaming. The man gasped, and lunged for him.
"DOGGY!" Harry screamed, and Sirius leaped into the fireplace.
He said the first name that came to his mind ("REMUS LUPIN!"), and then felt himself falling forward, being yanked far away from the house that he knew they would never return to. Being pulled in and out of fireplaces and swirling around with the ash and soot. Harry was crying, and Sirius held him even closer. The two of them fell through blackness, until finally reaching a hard ending.
They tumbled onto the floor of Lupin's cabin, and Harry screamed. Sirius stood, shaken by nerves and the adrenaline pumping through his entire body. The house was dark. No candles were lit, and the fireplace hadn't been burning.
He scooped up Harry from the floor, and he started whimpering again. What were they doing here? Why had he said Lupin's name? Why had that been the first name that he had thought of?
"The dream," he whispered to himself, "It was the dream."
Lupin must have been out that night. Either that or he had condemned the place to a wild animal. Everything was boarded up with nails and wood. All the cupboards were nailed shut, and all of the doorframes clawed to splinters. Stains were on the floor and carpet, and the furniture was torn, letting the stuffing spill onto the ground. It looked like a disaster had swept through the house.
The first thought that came to Sirius's mind was that Lupin had been attacked as well as James. They had come after all four of them. They knew all four of their names. They were trying to clean them all off.
But then, he remembered his dream.
The moon.
The moon had been full . . .
Slowly, he stepped to the closest window, and cautiously looked to the sky. Clouds and trees hid the stars from him, and Harry pointed between two branches.
"Moo! Moo!" he laughed, looking up to the . . .
Moon.
"No," Sirius whispered, "No . . . no, no, no, no . . ."
A growl came from behind them, and Sirius turned away from the window to stare into the darkness again.
There he was.
"Moony . . ." Sirius murmured, staring at the wolf in front of them.
The wolf was out of control, Sirius could tell. Lupin was gone for the night, and there was no trace of humanity left within this monster. It had overpowered him completely. And he could tell that, just from looking at the eyes of the beast.
"Doggy!" Harry cooed, now directing his word towards this newly found thing. But Sirius held him closer, and glared at the wolf.
"Don't you look at him," he growled, and the wolf growled back.
And with that, Sirius ran again. This time, he ran up the stairs, and the wolf followed them in pursuit. Harry was getting heavy in his arms as he mounted the case and into the attic. He slammed the door shut, and heard the body of the monster thump up against it. He fell back onto the wooden floor, and buried his face into Harry's black hair. The wolf snarled, and then howled from the staircase. He wanted in. He wanted blood.
"GO AWAY!" Sirius roared, and the wolf thrust its body into the door again.
"GO AWAY, YOU DAMN . . ."
Harry screamed.
The wolf tried again, once more, to get through the door. To reach the blood. To reach the child . . .
Sirius set Harry down, and let his eyes adjust to the attic's light. He frantically looked around for something . . . anything . . . to set in front of the door.
In the far corner there was a trunk. The old Hogwarts trunk reading Remus J. Lupin.
He ran for it, and shoved it back to the door. He reached the door just in time as the wolf broke the lock, and caught a glimpse of the attic through the open entrance. Sirius slammed the door shut again, heaving the trunk in front of it. The wolf yelped, and fell down the stairs with a thud.
And then all was silent.
"IT WAS IRRESPONSIBLE OF YOU, JAMES!"
James glared at the floor of Remus's cabin, as he and Lily sat on the torn couch. Lupin was sitting weakly in his bed on the other side of the room, looking forlorn and yet staying silent. Sirius sat in the chair between the couple and Remus, holding the saved Invisibility Cloak. Harry cooed away, half asleep, in his mother's arms.
And Mad-Eye Moody paced the center of the floor, staring James down. Daring him to look back at him.
"YOUR SON ALMOST DIED TONIGHT! THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAS HAPPENED!"
"But nothing did happen," James argued.
"DRAGON DUNG!" Moody shouted, and Remus looked quietly to Lily who was holding Harry. He couldn't remember what had happened. He never could anymore. He could just remember the look that Sirius had given him once he had been shaken awake by the Order members that morning. It was a look of fear.
Fear.
"YOUR FAMILY IS GOING INTO HIDING, POTTER!"
"Never!" James said, now looking up at the old Auror. Moody's eye twisted around through his skull to face forward once more. It had been watching Remus cautiously, but now it focused on this stupid boy in front of him.
"You will do as I say, Potter," Moody snarled, "Your life belongs to me. And if I say that you will go into hiding, then by Merlin, you will go into hiding."
"It's not Voldemort's doing that Sirius brought him to a werewolf's house," James spat, and Remus stared at his forgottten friend. He looked increduously at him, and his face became hidden behind the mask.
"I told you," the wolf whispered next to him, "I told you, didn't I? But did you believe me?"
"It was the only place I could think of that was safe," Sirius explained, and Remus's hopes rose.
"This place?!" James cried, standing up, "You took my SON to the worst spot imaginable! Do you know what could have happened?"
"I . . ." Remus started.
"Harry could be just like HIM!" James said, jutting a finger at Remus, and Remus closed his mouth and his eyes glazed over, "He could have to put up with THAT for his entire life! I'm sorry, but I don't want my son to become a . . ."
"James!" Lily cut her husband off, and Remus sunk lower into his mattress.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to . . . I didn't know . . ."
"You are all four coming back to Headquarters with me," Moody ordered, "Now. James, you will be moved from your house into a more permanent residence. One that we will choose for you, and place under a charm. Your Secret Keeper . . ."
"No!" James said, drawing closer to Moody, "I've already told you . . ."
"JAMES POTTER! YOU WILL FOLLOW ME TO HEADQUARTERS!" Moody said dangerously, putting his charred face inches from James's, Then he turned to the rest of the group, and added, "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR A WORD FROM ANY OF YOU! NONE! THE NEXT ONE THAT SPEAKS WILL BE CURSED!"
The Potters stood, and drearily followed him to the fireplace. Moody took a handful of Floo Powder, and threw it down, saying, "Alastor Moody."
He disappeared, and the Potters followed after him, leaving Sirius and Remus behind.
(Note to readers under 13: Again, there's a reason why it's rated what it's rated.)
"Hey! Wormtail! Down here!" Sirius shouted from the bottom of the steps. There was a groan, and then a very sick looking Peter appeared at the top of the staircase.
He hadn't looked good all evening, and Sirius had told him he could go home if he wanted to. But he hadn't. He had insisted on staying.
The screaming of the infant came back loud and clear.Well, he really wasn't an infant anymore. Harry had grown amazingly in the past eight months. He had celebrated his first birthday, and now he was walking, saying a few choice words, and recognizing the boys when they came over.
Yet he wasn't grown up yet. Sirius and Peter still had baby duty this evening while Harry's parents were out. Sirius couldn't wait until the boy had been introduced to indoor plumbing. But for right now, he was subject to hold baby powder in one hand, and a diaper in the other.
They hadn't had to always do this, resort to Sirius Black as a baby- sitter. Before, James had had his in-laws, and of course occasionally Alice Longbottom or Emmeline Vance.
Alice had been gone for over half a year now, and Emmeline was away on some duty with Mad-Eye. That left the good ol' Marauders to take over the household for the evening.
"Doggy!" Harry laughed, pointing at Sirius as he came waddling into the living room, holding his stuffed dog that he had gotten for Christmas, "Doggy!"
"Maybe you should stop transforming in front of him now," Peter said, weakly coming down the stairs, "He's starting to talk. What if he points to you and goes Doggy one day in front of people?"
"Yeah, I bet you're right," Sirius said, looking at his godson, before setting his supplies on the fireplace, and closing his eyes. In a few moments, Padfoot stood where Sirius had.
"Sirius!" Peter scowled. Padfoot smirked as only a dog can smirk, and nuzzled against the side of Harry. Harry laughed, and petted Padfoot on the back. Both of them looked content, and Peter groaned. He knew he couldn't surpass that with a rat. Harry would just scream and squish him with his stuffed puppy.
"Doggy!" Harry squealed again, and in an instant, Padfoot had turned back into Sirius, and was reaching for his godson.
"Calm down, Wormtail," Sirius said, picking Harry up in his arms, "Who's he gonna tell? And more importantly, who'd believe him?"
Peter shrugged, and followed the two of them into the new kitchen. It was the fifth kitchen that the boys had seen. The fifth kitchen in which Harry had eaten. The fifth kitchen in which Harry's mother had prepared dinner. The fifth kitchen his father had bought.
It was a dark time, these days that they had found themselves in. The house that they now found themselves living in was grungy and filled with dirt from the sooty streets and air outdoors. It someone penetrated their house's walls, and inflitrated their living quarters. Sirius thought of all the different kitchens he had looked at during his nights with Harry, and dinners with Harry's parents.
First they had moved out of their first house. That had been the hardest to say goodbye to. They had lived there since the beginning of their marriage, and they hadn't wanted to say goodbye. As Lily said, they had been given Harry while living in that house. But they had packed their things, and shipped off to a different town and a different address.
The second house had been shingled black on the rooftop, and it had needed some sprucing up. They had all pitched in one weekend, with their spells that they had learned about house cleaning from assorted books, and had managed to make it presentable for Lily when she saw it for the first time. The three boys (James, Sirius, and Peter), had worked night and day for two days on the exterior, and it had meant the world to her. Sadly, that house no longer stood. It had been burnt to the ground by an unknown person two weeks later.
The third house had been an urban house, stuck between two other two stories, and sporting red brick. It had had one bedroom, and James told his family they'd have to deal with their situation, due to the fact that he was quickly running out of his father's legacy money, and he wished to save some for after the war and for Harry's education. James was what Sirius liked to refer to as "rich," but he still was dwindling now. It had been in that house that a cryptic message had been painted on the door by wand in an invisible force. It had only been Lily's keen eye for charms that she realized it was there. When she revealed the force, it only showed an "X" on their front door. It was written in green, and they reported it to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore made them evacuate the house as soon as he received this news.
Two hours after their evacuation, spys reported a dark figure approaching the house, almost floating inside, and a blood curtling howl come from inside. The house then fell to the ground, and the dark figure disappeared. No Dark Mark was left, and the remnants of the "X" charm vanished.
They had spent a night at Headquarters, and Dumbledore had tried to pursuade James to go into hiding once more. Sirius could still recall the look on his friend's face as the Headmaster leaned over him, almost pleading for him to retire.
"I can't do that," were the only words that James had given the old man.
The last house that they had moved into before this one had been more of a permanent stay. It was almost like their first home; furnished with the nicest of things and filled with the warmth of a family's love. Yet it had lasted the least amount of time. Their second night in their newly found bedroom, the front door downstairs had been kicked in, and a few black shadows flew in through the door. They were Death Eaters, and if it hadn't been for Harry's crying, Lily and James would have been killed in their own bed. James had fought them off before they could get up the stairs, while Lily grabbed Harry and headed for the fireplace in their room. James had then stunned them all, dove into the fireplace after his family, and had arrived in Sirius's new home. The next morning, when the three Potters returned with Sirius to their address . . . the house was demolished.
And yet, James would not hide.
This fifth house had been occupied by the little family for a little over a month. Nothing had happened to it yet, and they had decided, almost out of desperation for any happy thought, that nothing would ever happen to it. This is the only thought that had kept Sirius comfortable in the walls of his friend's home.
The fifth kitchen. The fifth house. The fifth chance for a better life.
A fifth reason for James to run.
Now Sirius realized why his friends asked him to watch their son. It wasn't because no one else was available. It was because they trusted him to save their son if the time came to run.
Harry babbled in his godfather's arms as Peter went to the cupboards for food. Sirius held the one-year-old tighter in his arms as he looked out the window, and to the moon.
It was full tonight.
The night covered the street like a cloak of foreshadowing. With the night came fear, and with fear came death. The dementors began to file out from between the houses. Sirius could sense them in the shadows of darkness. Yet, they were safe inside the house. Every light in the little home was turned on, and he sat in the bedroom, rocking Harry to sleep in the chair. Now the house was quiet. Peter had left, complaining of bad stomach aches, and now there were no noises to be heard but the distant breathing of the boy. Sirius closed his eyes, and rested his head against the back of the chair.
Back and forth he went. Back, forward, back, forward. Rocking like the wind, Harry safely in his strong arms. His Harry. Nothing would hurt either of them tonight.
He don't know when exactly he fell asleep, but it was not long after he thought to himself, "If only life were really this perfect." It was the sort of sleep where reality mixes with fantasy, and one does not realize that they are truly dreaming.
It was in this dream that he was rocking Harry, and the full moon from outside the nursery's window began to grow. It became closer and closer to the branches of the tree outside, and not before long could Sirius make out the craters in its surface. The light of the moon was cast onto the wood of the floor, and shone perfectly on the door that led to the hallway. It was here that he could see a figure of someone, holding their wand to the door, and chanting something.
"Who are you?" he asked, Harry still in his arms.
The figure laughed, and Sirius swore he knew that laugh. It was one that he had heard before, somewhere . . .
"It draws nearer," the figure sneered, "It draws nearer."
"What? What draws nearer? What are you talking about?" Sirius demanded.
The figure only laughed again, and then disappeared. On the doorway, Sirius could see what it had been drawing.
A green X.
A large, bold, green X.
He opened his eyes, and he could feel his voice screaming. It had been a while since he had woken up screaming. Harry was jolted awake, and he started to cry.
Sirius stood up, and stared at the door. It was a normal door. He snapped his head to look at the window. The moon was its normal size, millions of miles away.
Just a dream.
A dream.
A . . .
A door slammed from downstairs. Sirius froze. A door. Someone had entered.
Footsteps. In the main parlor. On the first floor.
His heart pounded, and he clasped Harry tighter. Harry grew quiet, and he gave a little whimper.
"Doggy?" he asked, unsure of the present situation.
"Shhh," Sirius said, stepping silently towards the hallway, "Quiet, Harry. Quiet."
Two sets of footsteps. One loud, and the other a little more graceful. A young boy and a middle aged man, Sirius concluded. They were walking together. He held his breath, and then listened for their voices.
He heard them, whispering, their words being carried up the stairs and into the second floor corridor.
"Find the Potter child," the man said to his younger apprentice.
Sirius's eyes grew wide, and he ducked back into the room. What was he going to do? There was no way to get to the fireplace, no way out of the house without jumping through the window and killing himself. What was he supposed to do? What was . . .
"It's just like school," he whispered to himself, "Just like Hogwarts. It's just Filch and Mrs. Norris. That's it."
How would James get out? How would he . . .
Something silver from Harry's closet caught his eye, and he flew across the room to snatch it. The Invisibility Cloak. James had put it in his son's room. Sirius flung it over himself and Harry, and then quietly stepped out into the hallway. They had to make it to the parlor, where the fireplace was. They had to make it there. They had to.
The nightmare was still haunting him.
"Are his parents away?" the boy could be heard from the top of the staircase. Sirius spotted the two of them, milling around between the two rooms of the first floor: the kitchen and the parlor. They were both donned in black cloaks and white masks, their wands out and ready to use.
"Yes," the man informed him, "According to our source, yes. Remember, do not hurt the child. We must give him to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord must be the one to dispose of him."
"I am aware of that," the boy hissed, and they entered the parlor.
Damn, Sirius thought. They stood between him and the fireplace. He had to get through them somehow.
Harry felt the fear coming from Sirius, and he grew still in his godfather's arms. The little boy was counting on him. He had to try.
He had to.
Sirius skipped the first step as he started down the staircase, knowing that it would creak. For an instant, his left shoe became uncovered, and he watched with anticipation as the older Death Eater almost caught a glimpse of it protruding from thin air. But he didn't, and the two continued searching the parlor.
"Mr. Black," the man said, "We know that you are here. Hand over the boy, and you will go unscathed."
Fifth step. One by one, he made it to the eighth step. The last step. And then to the first floor carpet.
He could see the fireplace now, illuminated by the lights of the living room. He could see the Floo Powder setting next to it. He had to make it. He had to.
"Mr. Black, we know that you are alone," the man continued, "You will not be hurt if you give us the child."
The boy was inches from Harry's right hand. Sirius held him closer to his chest, and held his breath. He froze as the boy passed them by a hair, and went to the staircase to take a look at the second floor.
Three more steps to the fireplace. Three more steps.
"Do you hear that?" the man said to the boy.
"Hear what?"
Two more steps.
"That sound. It's footsteps . . ."
"I don't hear anything."
One more step.
"It's like . . ."
"Doggy!" Harry squealed as Sirius squeezed him too tight. Sirius froze, and the two Death Eaters froze.
"I heard that," the boy said.
"Shut up," the man said, and turned in Sirius's direction, "They're over there somewhere."
"Maybe the house is haunted . . ."
"The house isn't haunted," the man muttered to himself, his voice muffled by his mask. He moved closer to the two of them, standing one step away from the hearth. Sirius could feel Harry's heart pounding in time with his.
They had to run.
They had no other choice.
"Mr. Black?" the man said once more.
Sirius didn't answer.
"Mr. Black, we will kill you if you do not give us the boy," the man said.
Sirius didn't answer.
He could see the Floo Powder next to his left hand. He had to try for it. He had to run.
In a flash he threw off the cloak, and thrust his hand into the pot of ash, Harry screaming. The man gasped, and lunged for him.
"DOGGY!" Harry screamed, and Sirius leaped into the fireplace.
He said the first name that came to his mind ("REMUS LUPIN!"), and then felt himself falling forward, being yanked far away from the house that he knew they would never return to. Being pulled in and out of fireplaces and swirling around with the ash and soot. Harry was crying, and Sirius held him even closer. The two of them fell through blackness, until finally reaching a hard ending.
They tumbled onto the floor of Lupin's cabin, and Harry screamed. Sirius stood, shaken by nerves and the adrenaline pumping through his entire body. The house was dark. No candles were lit, and the fireplace hadn't been burning.
He scooped up Harry from the floor, and he started whimpering again. What were they doing here? Why had he said Lupin's name? Why had that been the first name that he had thought of?
"The dream," he whispered to himself, "It was the dream."
Lupin must have been out that night. Either that or he had condemned the place to a wild animal. Everything was boarded up with nails and wood. All the cupboards were nailed shut, and all of the doorframes clawed to splinters. Stains were on the floor and carpet, and the furniture was torn, letting the stuffing spill onto the ground. It looked like a disaster had swept through the house.
The first thought that came to Sirius's mind was that Lupin had been attacked as well as James. They had come after all four of them. They knew all four of their names. They were trying to clean them all off.
But then, he remembered his dream.
The moon.
The moon had been full . . .
Slowly, he stepped to the closest window, and cautiously looked to the sky. Clouds and trees hid the stars from him, and Harry pointed between two branches.
"Moo! Moo!" he laughed, looking up to the . . .
Moon.
"No," Sirius whispered, "No . . . no, no, no, no . . ."
A growl came from behind them, and Sirius turned away from the window to stare into the darkness again.
There he was.
"Moony . . ." Sirius murmured, staring at the wolf in front of them.
The wolf was out of control, Sirius could tell. Lupin was gone for the night, and there was no trace of humanity left within this monster. It had overpowered him completely. And he could tell that, just from looking at the eyes of the beast.
"Doggy!" Harry cooed, now directing his word towards this newly found thing. But Sirius held him closer, and glared at the wolf.
"Don't you look at him," he growled, and the wolf growled back.
And with that, Sirius ran again. This time, he ran up the stairs, and the wolf followed them in pursuit. Harry was getting heavy in his arms as he mounted the case and into the attic. He slammed the door shut, and heard the body of the monster thump up against it. He fell back onto the wooden floor, and buried his face into Harry's black hair. The wolf snarled, and then howled from the staircase. He wanted in. He wanted blood.
"GO AWAY!" Sirius roared, and the wolf thrust its body into the door again.
"GO AWAY, YOU DAMN . . ."
Harry screamed.
The wolf tried again, once more, to get through the door. To reach the blood. To reach the child . . .
Sirius set Harry down, and let his eyes adjust to the attic's light. He frantically looked around for something . . . anything . . . to set in front of the door.
In the far corner there was a trunk. The old Hogwarts trunk reading Remus J. Lupin.
He ran for it, and shoved it back to the door. He reached the door just in time as the wolf broke the lock, and caught a glimpse of the attic through the open entrance. Sirius slammed the door shut again, heaving the trunk in front of it. The wolf yelped, and fell down the stairs with a thud.
And then all was silent.
"IT WAS IRRESPONSIBLE OF YOU, JAMES!"
James glared at the floor of Remus's cabin, as he and Lily sat on the torn couch. Lupin was sitting weakly in his bed on the other side of the room, looking forlorn and yet staying silent. Sirius sat in the chair between the couple and Remus, holding the saved Invisibility Cloak. Harry cooed away, half asleep, in his mother's arms.
And Mad-Eye Moody paced the center of the floor, staring James down. Daring him to look back at him.
"YOUR SON ALMOST DIED TONIGHT! THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAS HAPPENED!"
"But nothing did happen," James argued.
"DRAGON DUNG!" Moody shouted, and Remus looked quietly to Lily who was holding Harry. He couldn't remember what had happened. He never could anymore. He could just remember the look that Sirius had given him once he had been shaken awake by the Order members that morning. It was a look of fear.
Fear.
"YOUR FAMILY IS GOING INTO HIDING, POTTER!"
"Never!" James said, now looking up at the old Auror. Moody's eye twisted around through his skull to face forward once more. It had been watching Remus cautiously, but now it focused on this stupid boy in front of him.
"You will do as I say, Potter," Moody snarled, "Your life belongs to me. And if I say that you will go into hiding, then by Merlin, you will go into hiding."
"It's not Voldemort's doing that Sirius brought him to a werewolf's house," James spat, and Remus stared at his forgottten friend. He looked increduously at him, and his face became hidden behind the mask.
"I told you," the wolf whispered next to him, "I told you, didn't I? But did you believe me?"
"It was the only place I could think of that was safe," Sirius explained, and Remus's hopes rose.
"This place?!" James cried, standing up, "You took my SON to the worst spot imaginable! Do you know what could have happened?"
"I . . ." Remus started.
"Harry could be just like HIM!" James said, jutting a finger at Remus, and Remus closed his mouth and his eyes glazed over, "He could have to put up with THAT for his entire life! I'm sorry, but I don't want my son to become a . . ."
"James!" Lily cut her husband off, and Remus sunk lower into his mattress.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to . . . I didn't know . . ."
"You are all four coming back to Headquarters with me," Moody ordered, "Now. James, you will be moved from your house into a more permanent residence. One that we will choose for you, and place under a charm. Your Secret Keeper . . ."
"No!" James said, drawing closer to Moody, "I've already told you . . ."
"JAMES POTTER! YOU WILL FOLLOW ME TO HEADQUARTERS!" Moody said dangerously, putting his charred face inches from James's, Then he turned to the rest of the group, and added, "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR A WORD FROM ANY OF YOU! NONE! THE NEXT ONE THAT SPEAKS WILL BE CURSED!"
The Potters stood, and drearily followed him to the fireplace. Moody took a handful of Floo Powder, and threw it down, saying, "Alastor Moody."
He disappeared, and the Potters followed after him, leaving Sirius and Remus behind.