Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Updated: Tuesday 12th April 2005

Chapter Sixty Four: Warnings

Sirius had been loitering around the outskirts of Hogsmeade since just before term began. He noticed straight away, with no amount of irony, that Dementors of all things were guarding the school boundaries; as though they alone could prevent him from reaching his goal. It appeared that the Ministry was still as inept as ever. Not only did they arrest the wrong man for a crime and sentence him without trial, but the one thing they send after him when he escapes is the one thing he managed to outsmart and escape from in the first place.

How thick could you get?

Under any other circumstances, Sirius Black would have laughed.

Unbeknownst to the students or staff, Sirius had been watching as the pupils arrived on the train at Hogsmeade and boarded the carriages that would take them to the castle. He had been so mesmerised by the sight of the grim looking Thestrals that drew the carriages – having since witnessed the death of those Muggles since his last trip to Hogwarts – and reminiscing bitterly on how he came to see them, that he almost missed his daughter's face amongst the crowd of second year students. Taking in her black school robes with their navy blue trim and Raven encrusted House Crest, Sirius noted with pride – and relief - that his daughter had been sorted into Ravenclaw. Like her mother. At the time of his imprisonment his brother-in-law had been up for contention for the position of Slytherin Housemaster, and he knew that with her Uncle raising her there would have been no end of troubles for the child had she been sorted into his own house, Gryffindor. Even though it would have worried him if his daughter had followed the influences of the man who raised her and joined Slytherin house, the canine animagus doubted it would change the way he felt about her. Nothing would change the fact that she was his daughter.

As the distant figure of his progeny disappeared into a carriage with a group of fellow second years (well Sirius guessed they were as such by their height and apparent familiarity with his daughter) something else caught his eye.

'James!' His heart instinctively leapt… then fell. The boy-who-lived, who, from even close range was almost like a carbon copy of his father, was not his best friend… his dead best friend… but rather his godson. Even after having seen him up close on the Muggle street several weeks previously and recognising him for who he was straight away, Sirius still had a hard time associating the 13 year old boy at the end of his gaze with the 15 month old infant he was so terribly familiar with. Even though the boy had lived, it felt like so much time had gone by without Sirius in it. So much had changed. Harry had changed. He was a teenager now; a child who would likely not remember him for a bar of soap, let alone his own parents. No more pitter patter of little feet charging towards him as he entered the room. No more innocent baby babble, triumphantly forming the words 'Padfoot' as the child drooled uncontrollably, excited at having just identified his beloved Godfather. The almost grown Harry before him didn't seem the sort to roll around playfully with him, giggling in high pitched screeches as he blew bubbles on his belly and went through the motions of their favourite games.

The Harry he knew might as well have died that night with James and Lily. The boy before him was but a stranger. A dead ringer for his father – and Gryffindor as well – Sirius couldn't help but feel he was sucked into a time warp.

A heavy weight settled in his heart as reality came crashing down. Sirius mourned his losses… mourned for the years he had missed out on and loves he had lost. If teenage Harry was a stranger to him, then what of his own flesh and blood? The daughter he never had the chance to meet – even as a infant. He was nothing to her, and it hurt… for she was everything to him.

About to turn away, Sirius remembered why he had come. He had to discern what house the Weasley boy – the one with the rat – was in. Chances are, if the boy took the villain-in-disguise on holidays with him, then chances are the rat would be with him at school too. His fears were confirmed when he saw that not only was the shock of red hair dressed in Gryffindor robes, but he appeared to be fast friends with his Godson.

Good Merlin! Peter Pettigrew – the man who had betrayed the marauders and orphaned its descendants – was going to be sharing a room with Harry Potter! Sirius knew it was a possibility – it was the catalyst that finally prompted an end to his self-destructive guilt trips and forced him to escape – but now he knew it was a fact, he felt sick.

The weeks leading up to the first Hogsmeade weekend passed agonisingly slowly for Sirius. He spent his time scavenging old newspapers from bins to keep up with the Ministry's 'search' for him and beggared food from the village folk, accepting their scraps in his animagus form. Not a day went by that Sirius didn't cast silent thanks to the last surviving marauder – the last one who wasn't a traitor or wanted by the Ministry anyway – for having the integrity to honour his Marauder's Oath. It was clear from the news reports that the gentile, compassionate werewolf had not revealed his status as a unregistered animagus to the Aurors searching for him. Though, it was with copious amounts of disbelief that he couldn't fathom how they Aurors didn't suspect he was one anyway. Surely they would surmise it would have been the only way he would have gotten out of Azkaban.

No wonder the Dark Lord reached the heights of power like he had.

Even though Sirius had decided upon using the passageway from the Shrieking Shack to get onto Hogwarts' grounds – theoretically by passing the Dementors at the other known entry points to the castle – Sirius decided to wait until the students were leaving for their Hogsmeade visit before making his move. Although they would undoubtedly have to keep their distance from the departing students, Sirius knew that they would be distracted by the passing tirade of innocent students and he would be able to ensure himself safe passage. The school would also be less populated, and understaffed, with most all of the students in the top five years taking advantage of the pleasant early Autumn weather and relishing in their first trip out of school for the year. Many of the teachers, as such, would be out of the grounds accompanying a carriage and patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade, ensuring the students did not disrupt the locals.

Yes, the Hogsmeade weekend would be the best time to strike.

Making it all the way from the Whomping Willow to the entrance of Gryffindor tower took the better part of the day. He had to travel extensively out of his way to remain in the shadows and avoid all possibility of detection. Alright, so maybe just a small part of him relished the nostalgic feeling of being 'free' in the Hogwarts castle once more. Backtracking and crisscrossing through the labyrinth of secret passageways that he knew so well (and thankfully were known to few others) he felt as though he was back at school again and, with its all but deserted halls it was as if it was after curfew and he was sneaking off to the kitchens on some dare James had set him up to do.

James.

Remembering the objective of this little expedition: get the rat; Sirius set himself back on task.

By the time he reached the familiar portrait of the Fat Lady, the students were returning from their outing and, in the far distance, milling into the Great Hall for tea.

Tea.

Sirius couldn't remember the last time he ate a decent meal. Perhaps he could sniff out a student's secret stash in the tower and indulge. He'd most likely have to eat it in his animagus form, however, as his human stomach was far to emaciated to handle the nutrition.

"Password?" The Fat Lady said boorishly, barely acknowledging his presence as he emerged from the shadows in his human form.

"Hallo Lady my love," He said sweetly, trying to dredge up the same confident swagger and flirting tone that had once upon a time come so naturally. "Long time no see, and may I say you are looking better than ever."

The Fat Lady turned her attention away from the glass she was posing with and peered more closely at the dishevelled man before him. "You are no student." She assessed tartly, her eyes narrowing in contempt at his dirty appearance. "Who are you?"

"I'm not a student, that much is true." Sirius admitted, lowering his head humbly. "But I am a Gryffindor, and I have business in the tower."

"A past student come to visit then." The Fat Lady surmised. "Password?"

"Why, after all we've been through…" Sirius whined mournfully. "Surely you don't need the password from an old friend like me…"

"I don't recognise you boy." The Fat Lady asserted. "Password. Or no entry."

Sirius flicked his hair back flirtingly – much like he used to – though with his hair in slimy clumps with all manner of wildlife nesting in his scalp he hardly thought it would have nearly the same effect. The wheels in the portraits head, however, were churning. Looking at her pleadingly with his big puppy dog eyes, realisation finally hit.

"Sirius Black!" She gasped. "What are you doing here?"

Sirius was getting impatient. If he wanted to find Pettigrew before students started coming back to the tower he really didn't have time for games. "I already told you, my fair Lady, I have business in the tower."

The woman looked at him accusingly. "No password. No entry. You know the rules."

"And you know how I liked to break them." Sirius said lightly before turning serious and withdrawing a knife he had pilfered from a butcher a couple of towns away. "I would really hate for things to… get violent."

"Sirius Black! You wouldn't!"

"I don't have time for this. Let me in now or you'll leave me no choice." He said regretfully as he ran the blade's edge across the canvas – without damaging it - in warning. "No? I'm sorry then."

He started to tear into the canvas with the knife, desperate to get inside the tower. Ignoring the flight of the surrounding portrait's figures, his anger and frustration grew insurmountably when he realised that hacking the portrait to pieces did nothing for his situation. He was still locked out, and now there wasn't even anyone to give the password to if he knew it. Cursing himself for his foolish impulses, Sirius started stabbing at the wooden frame behind the canvas, infuriated at the fact that he had little to no chance of getting in there now. One look at the vandalised portrait and one word from another portrait and the whole school would be on alert. Kicking himself ruefully, he regretted not just staying hidden in the shadows, waiting in the hope that a lone Gryffindor – preferably a first year – came up before the end of dinner, enabling Sirius to overhear the password or overpower the unsuspecting child.

'Damn! Damn! Damn!'

Suddenly, however, something Sirius did not expect to happen, did. The portrait swung open from the inside.

There was a God.

And he was apparently being very nice to him at that moment.

Standing across from him was none other than his beloved daughter.

Upon seeing the startled… no, scared look on his daughter's face, Sirius realised how he must look to his child right now: crazed, dangerous, dirty, angry. Spiriting the knife away, all anger leaving his face – replaced with shock, awe and sadness, just for starters – Sirius gasped.

"Estella?" He called out to her, his voice thick.

A look of realisation clouded her features, and Sirius' heart ached as he saw her eyes widen in panic. She choked back a terrified sob and stumbled backwards, trying to get away with him. A pain, deep in Sirius' soul, was resonating throughout his whole being as he recognised the fear he was causing in his own child. His own child. He quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him. Moving towards his child slowly, it took all of Sirius' resolve not to ignore the fact he was causing the child's distress and just take her into his arms.

'It shouldn't be this way' His heart mourned. He had waited so long to be a father. When Selina was pregnant he'd had such grand plans. His whole life was going to revolve around the child before him, and had he had his way, she would have had absolutely no illusions of that. He had known all along… just known… that Selina was going to have a girl; and Sirius fancied doting on his beloved daughter and bonding with her so intensely that she would be a real Daddy's girl. But all of that had been torn from him, and although his love for his child was unwavering, the fruit of his loins, the product of his love, was standing before him, for the very first time, absolutely terrified.

Hearing a strangled yelp from the distraught child tore at his heart. Immediately, he gave into his more primal primitive instincts as a father and went to her. Reluctantly covering her mouth with his hand instead of holding her in his arms the way he'd prefer, Sirius held her face in his hands for the very first time; blinking furiously as though she might disappear and he would wake up from this dream at any moment. As he felt his child flinch and go rigid at his touch, he knew better than to take it any further, and yet still his heart ached to hold her. To hold her and say soothing things in her ear until she would feel safe and protected and trust him and know how much she was loved in his arms – arms that would never leave her again if they had their way.

"Shhhh… don't cry! Please don't cry!" He pleaded, choking back his own emotion. "I won't hurt you, child."

His daughter's breath coming in ragged breaths as she huffed in and out through her nose, her life force tickling his palm and warming his body with the reassuring fact that 'this was his daughter, he'd given her life, and she was alive and breathing before him' Sirius' whole body began to tremble with the powerful emotions he was feeling.

Gazing at her adoringly through the thin sheen of unshed tears – tears of both happiness and grief – Sirius noticed a range of emotions pass through her eyes. Although staring at her eyes was like looking at his reflection, Sirius found he could read his daughter's soul in much the same way he had been able to loose himself in his beloved wife's obsidian orbs. From his observations, he could tell she was contemplating something in her mind.

'Flight or fight' Sirius' mind registered with a heavy heart, sad that his daughter didn't realise how readily he would die for her. If she had so much as said to him to turn himself in at that moment, he would gladly do so – even knowing the consequences – simply because it was her wish.

"Please don't be scared." He said softly, his voice cracking as a lone tear ran down his mud-stained face. He could feel Estella shiver beneath his hands. His lower lip began to tremble as he cupped her face, standing eye to eye with his child. "Merlin you're so beautiful… so beautiful…" he whispered. "I've missed so much… and your mother… you're so like your mother… I can't tell you how hard it is for me not to just hold you in my arms and never let go."

Holding his breath, Sirius' body stiffened as he noted his daughter's almost frightened reaction to his confession. It repulsed him that he could scare his child that much that the thought of him showing his affection was so terrifying for her. Sirius fought with himself, his feet following Estella on their own accord as she inched away. Even though it was clearly what she wanted, he couldn't bring himself to lose contact with her. Even though he had refrained from holding her in his arms, just the meagre touch of his hand on her face was enough to keep him grounded. To let go, he found, would be like letting go of his soul. His soul belonged to the child before him, there was no doubt about it, for had it not been for the love he felt for her as a father he would not have had a reason to pull himself through each day in that hell; and the Dementors would have long since claimed his soul for themselves.

Swallowing hard as he fought back the burning tears as Estella started to struggle against him, Sirius gently trapped her between himself and the wall. One look at the pain in her eyes, however, and Sirius knew he had to let go. Resting his forehead against her own, Sirius sighed audibly.

"I won't make you do anything you don't want to do." He said so softly he wasn't sure the child could even hear him. He fumbled his hands downwards, prying the fragile replicas of his daughter's hands from his chest and relishing in the feel of her hands in his.

"Just don't run. Not yet." He begged, squeezing the small, soft hands gently before pulling away, reluctantly letting go of the hands only when Estella's arms had been forced to stretch out as he stepped back.

"I want you to trust me, Estella." He said quietly, his throat scratchy and dry as he raised his hands in defence. "I'd rather die than see you suffer at my hands."

An unreadable expression passed over Estella's face, and for a moment there Sirius thought she was going to cut back at him with a retort of some kind. Whatever she was going to say, however, she reneged on; Sirius noted sadly. At this point he didn't care what the child had to say to him, he just wanted to hear her voice.

"What… what do you want?" She said quietly, unsurely, after a few moments of silence.

Sirius looked at her sadly, his hands twitching with the urge to show her what he wanted by throwing caution to the wind and taking her in his arms. In fact, there were so many answers – so many things he wanted at that moment – that his mind couldn't even think straight through the tirade of emotions.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered what her real first word had been. Did she call Snape 'Dada'? His mind flooding back to the one reason all of this had happened in the first place, he looked at her desperately.

"The rat." He said hoarsely, a strange edge to his voice. "The rat will set everything right again."

His daughter's eyes widened. Sirius mentally cursed himself for not thinking of something more profound and meaningful to say. It was all Pettigrew's fault. Not only was it his fault he was framed and sent to that horrible place, but now the very mention of him had to go ruin his very first attempts at connecting with the child he had been kept away from for so long.

"You can't be here." The child said suddenly, her face reddening with discomfort as her eyes shifted to the portrait door across the room behind him. "They'll find you… and the Dementors… you… I… don't…"

"Hush, my precious, precious, angel." Sirius said, smiling slightly. Merlin she was her mother's daughter. Even through the fear and the distrust, his daughter still had the compassion to not wish him harm. He couldn't help but sigh as he stilled his child's words with his fingers; stepping forward jerkily, hauling himself back only when he realised that he had been going to hug her. Despite the increasing difficulty of his ability to restrain himself, he was overjoyed with the slight possibility that there may be a chance for them yet, some day.

Not today, though.

"You are right, of course." He said bitterly, eyeing the clock on the wall behind them and noting the time. "I must go before they find me."

"So like your mother." He said reverently, stroking a stray hair from her face. Leaning forward to press his lips against her brow; he inhaled slowly, wanting to commit every scent, every feeling, every colour, into his mind before he tore himself away.

Suddenly, rising noises outside highlighted the urgency of his imminent departure. Oh how he wished he could take his child with him, spend some time with her, explain things… but he knew he couldn't do that to her. She was teetering dangerously on the edge as it was, and he didn't want to traumatise her permanently by stealing her away from where she belonged. A life on the run was no life for his precious angel. It was bad enough she even had to see him in such an unkempt state as it was.

Catching her gaze one last time, Sirius lingered a moment longer before forcing himself to pull away. Crossing the room fluidly, heading directly for the expressly one-way passage by the fireplace he knew was there, Sirius moved quickly so that he could get away before his paternal instincts took over and made him do something rash… like take his daughter.

"Remember," he said coarsely as he turned back one last time to look at her. "Remember the rat. Beware of the rat."

'And I love you, so, so much' he finished to himself brokenly as he sped down the passage, morphing into his animagus form mid step as he staged his get away.

Hopefully his daughter would heed his warning.

End Chapter: Warnings