A/N: Still not the last chapter. Thanks for all your responses to the last chapter. It was really, really hard to write, and knowing that you were moved by it means the world to me. I have to warn you, though, that this chapter made me cry more than the last one.

I know that Harry talks a lot for his age, but I'm modeling him after one of my cousins. She was a total chatterbox by the time she turned one, and she spoke very well for her age. All babies gain speech at different rates – I just put Harry on the fast-track!

Thanks again for reading and reviewing!

I don't own Harry Potter.

Vengeance

As an Order member, Sturgis Podmore had been assigned many odd duties. But none had ever been as odd as his assignment to stand guard over something he couldn't even see.

Dumbledore had explained that the Potters had gone into hiding using a Secret Keeper. Although the Fidelius Charm should keep them safe, Dumbledore wanted an Order member on-site just in case something happened. Sturgis had accepted the orders from Dumbledore, and had gone to the location he had been assigned.

Because the unnamed Secret Keeper had not given him the Potters' address, Sturgis had been given a general location, followed by a general direction in which to keep watch. He had been staring at the same blank spot for the past two hours, wondering when his relief would come in the form of Emmeline Vance, who would take over the watch for the next shift. He began looking around the neighborhood, watching as small, costumed children made their way up first one walkway then another, collecting candy from decorated houses. Sturgis smiled at the parents who looked at him as though wondering if he was going to try to kidnap their children. He sighed. Dumbledore had a way of choosing the most awkward positions to put him in.

A thunderous crash filled the air, and Sturgis jumped. He whirled around, looking back at the blank spot he was supposed to be monitoring.

"My God," he whispered. The Potters' house was now visible before him, crumbling to the ground. "What the hell happened?"

He shot his Patronus into the sky, trying to get a message to Dumbledore about what had happened. Then he stepped forward to begin putting up Muggle-repelling charms. The last thing he needed was a crowd of Muggles running over to see what had happened.

Dumbledore sat down hard when he received the message from Sturgis. He had feared that this would happen from the moment that James had insisted upon using Sirius as his Secret Keeper, but he had hoped that those fears were unfounded. Now, it seemed, they were completely accurate.

He did not allow himself time to think of what had happened. He had to get to the scene. He had to see if there was anything that could be done, or any way that he could help. The message had said that the house had become visible, that it had been destroyed. It was so odd. The Killing Curse did not leave destruction in its path. He hoped that there was some way that they had survived.

Sirius pushed his motorbike as fast as it would go, covering the distance from Mrs. Potter's house to Peter's in half the time it normally would take. He spent the entire trip praying that he wouldn't be too late, that there was still time to save James and Lily.

A light was shining in Peter's window as Sirius landed his bike. He laughed in relief. Raised by his frugal father, Peter never left a light on when he walked out of a room, let alone out of his house. He must still be home. Sirius had made it in time. He ran up the walk and knocked on the door. There was no answer.

"Peter, you fool, it's me! It's Sirius! Open up! You knew I was coming! Come on, Peter, open the door!"

After a moment, the horrible truth sunk in. No one was coming to admit him. Shivering slightly, he took out his wand.

"Alohomora."

The door opened, and Sirius shook his head. Would Peter never learn a more complex locking charm? Then, coming back to himself, he stepped inside.

"Peter?" he called. "Peter, are you here? Are you all right?"

He made his way around the small house quickly, searching desperately for any sign of Peter, or, at the very least, of a struggle. If Peter had gone to Voldemort with his information, Sirius had to know that he had at least fought against it.

But the house did not show any sign of a struggle.

Sirius began to shake uncontrollably. "My God," he whispered. "I'm too late! He's already gone!"

He ran back outside. He had to get to James. He had to make sure that his friends were still alive and well.

Dumbledore arrived on the scene just as Sturgis had finished charming the area. He hurried over to greet the older man.

"It was unbelievable!" he exclaimed. "One minute it was just a blank space, and the next minute I'm watching the house fall apart! I don't know how it happened!"

"Don't worry about how it happened," Dumbledore murmured. "It wasn't your fault, and there isn't anything you could have done to stop it. Go and inform the others. And send Hagrid to me."

"Hagrid?"

"Yes. Tell him to hurry."

"Yes, sir."

Sturgis Disapparated, leaving Dumbledore alone among the wreckage. He began sifting through it, looking desperately for survivors. He came across James first, recognizing at once that he was beyond help. Unexpected tears filled his eyes as he looked down at the young man who had been one of the most mischievous students he had ever taught, but who had become one of the most dedicated teachers and soldiers he had ever known.

"You should have been spared," he murmured. "You were so stubborn . . . you should have listened to me."

He stepped away from James's body before his tears began to fall, and searched for Lily. As he turned around, he heard an unmistakable baby cry. The wailing grew louder and louder, more and more hysterical.

"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, blinking in disbelief. "How on earth -?"

He followed the sounds of the baby's hysterical sobbing to find the child sitting in the midst of the rubble, clutching his mother's arm.

"My goodness, Harry," Dumbledore said, picking him up into his arms. "What happened here tonight? Your father was hit with a Killing Curse, and . . ." He looked down and felt sickened by the sight of Lily's lifeless body. "Your mother shares his fate. But, you, the one who brought him here . . . Why are you still alive, Harry? What could have . . .?"

Dumbledore looked back down at where Harry had been sitting with Lily. Her face held the shocked expression that generally accompanied those hit by the Killing Curse, but her arms were not in the customary spread-out position. It was as though . . .

"She was holding you, wasn't she?" Dumbledore whispered to the baby. "She put herself between you and Voldemort. She took the curse that was meant for you."

He looked at the baby again, noting for the first time the angry red mark on his forehead. He frowned, and traced the lightning-shaped mark with one long finger.

"But how did this -?"

His eyes widened. "He tried to kill you, didn't he? But he couldn't . . . Lily died for you . . . of course . . ." He smiled slightly. "Your mother always was incredibly bright and extremely powerful, Harry. Even to her death, perhaps even unknowingly, she was performing magic is its most complex form."

Harry had finally calmed down, and snuggled into Dumbledore's embrace. Dumbledore smiled at him, and held him closer.

"You are a very special little boy, Harry Potter. It would appear that you are already living up to a prophecy that I had never thought would take hold so early in your life. But now we must find the best way to take care of you . . . we have to find a way to make sure that your mother's sacrifice doesn't go unrewarded. We have to . . ." He sighed deeply. "We have to send you to live with your aunt."

He took out his wand and waved it, sending Harry into a dreamless sleep. Then he put the baby back down on what had been a couch. He cast another charm to keep him warm until Hagrid arrived. Then he sent his Patronus high into the sky, sending Hagrid final instructions. He was to collect Harry, and to meet Dumbledore at Number 4, Privet Drive.

With these things cared for, Dumbledore Disapparated. There was much to be done before meeting Hagrid and Harry on Privet Drive.

Sirius rode his bike over James and Lily's house, fear welling up inside of him at the sight below him. He tried to convince himself that the wreckage wasn't their house, that the scene of destruction had nothing to do with his friends.

But there was no fighting it as he landed in what had been their front yard. He let his bike fall to the ground as he looked at the crumbled house. He felt the color drain from his face as he began to shake uncontrollably.

"My God," he whispered. "What have I done? What have I done?"

He stepped carefully around the wreckage, looking for his friends. Maybe, through some miracle, they had survived. Maybe they were okay.

"James?" he called as he moved pieces of their house aside. "James, are you here? James? James! Where are you? Please, answer me!"

A cry escaped his lips as he found his fallen friend. James lay on the ground before him, his wand still clutched in his hand, his eyes screwed shut. Sirius sank to his knees.

"James," he whispered, shaking his friend's shoulder. "James, come on, open your eyes. Come on, James, please . . . please."

The truth hit him like a ton of bricks, and, for the second time that night, he began to sob. Sobs shook his body as he clutched James's cold frame to him, wishing that there was a way to will his friend back to life. Blinded by tears, he finally looked up, only to see a streak of red across from him.

"No," he whispered in a choked voice. "No, not both of you . . . no, I can't stand it . . . please, no . . ."

He gently put James back down, and crossed to find Lily's lifeless body. Unlike James, her eyes were open and her wand had fallen from her hand. His sobs beginning anew, Sirius bent down and crushed her body against him.

"How could this have happened?" he sobbed. "How could I have done this to you? How could we have been so wrong? How – how -?" Overcome by sobbing, he couldn't continue.

"Sirius?"

He looked up to see Hagrid coming toward him, carrying Harry. He released Lily, and looked up at them with dull eyes.

"He got Harry, too, didn't he?" he asked, choking back the sobs that wanted to shake his frame. He already knew that he, Sirius, had killed his two best friends, the two people who meant more to him than anyone. Now Hagrid was about to tell him that he had killed his godson as well. Unsure that he could handle this news while standing, he sank down next to Lily's body.

"No – no, Sirius, Harry's all right."

Hope broke out across his face like the sun. "He's all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hagrid replied. "Dumbledore said that You-Know-Who tried to kill him, but he couldn't. Didn't say why, though – guess he hasn't quite worked that out yet."

"But you said that he's all right. How could he be all right if Voldemort tried to kill him?"

Hagrid winced at the sound of the name. "I said he tried – he didn't do it, though. He couldn't!"

"He – he couldn't kill Harry? But how is that possible?"

"I don't know," Hagrid said. "He got Lily and James – you know that, though, don't you?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, his tears starting again. "Yeah, I found them already."

Hagrid sat down next to him, and put his arm around Sirius's shoulders. "It's gonna be all right, Sirius," he said gruffly. "I know it's awful . . . I loved Lily and James, too, we all did . . . but this is what they would have wanted. You know they loved Harry more than anything, and they'd be proud to know that they had given their lives to keep him alive. You know that."

"Yeah," Sirius said, trying to stop crying, "yeah, that's what they would have wanted. They would have gone mad if they'd lived and he'd died."

"Exactly," Hagrid said, nodding. "And the rest of us will need to work together to make sure that Harry grows up right, to make sure that they didn't die for him only to have him destroyed by something else."

"Yeah, he has to be raised the way they wanted . . ." Sirius looked at the little boy sleeping in Hagrid's oversized arms. "Give him to me, Hagrid. I'm his godfather – James and Lily wanted me to have him if anything happened to them. We talked about this, about what would happen if they died . . . I promised to take care of him, to defend him from Voldemort . . . I'll take him home with me." Hope began to blaze in Sirius's eyes; his godson had given him new purpose. "He can have James's old room. Olivia and I are getting married soon, and with Harry, we'll be a real family right from the start. Here, let me have him. I'll take him home right now."

"Ah, Sirius, I can't do that."

"You can't? Why not? You know that I'm his godfather."

"Yeah, I know, but . . ."

"But what?"

"See, I got instructions from Dumbledore . . . I have to take Harry to his aunt."

"His aunt? He doesn't have . . ." Sirius's eyes widened. "You're taking him to Petunia?"

"Is that Lily's sister's name? The Muggle? Yeah, that's the one. Dumbledore said Harry has to live with her from now on."

"You're taking him to live with Petunia," Sirius said in disbelief. "How – why would Dumbledore . . . ?"

Suddenly, everything became clear to him. Their plan had worked all wrong. Everyone who had been at that dinner at his flat did believe that he had been Lily and James's Secret Keeper – and now they thought that he was responsible for their deaths. He had to find Peter, to force him to confess . . . He had to set the record straight. He had to make sure that Harry stayed with him, and that Peter paid for his crimes. He was only going to keep the murdering rat alive long enough to get a confession out of him . . . and then he was going to kill him.

But what would be the best way to find him? He wasn't at home. The coward was probably on his way out of the country, afraid of what Sirius and Remus would do to him when they found out what had happened. Taking his motorbike to find the little rat wouldn't be any good. He'd be far more accurate at tracking him as a dog.

"Sirius, are you gonna be all right?" Hagrid asked. "I gotta get Harry to his aunt's before Dumbledore thinks I'm lost."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," Sirius said. "Tell you what, Hagrid. Take my motorbike. It'll be faster, and I don't need it right now."

"Thanks, Sirius," Hagrid said, surprised at Sirius's generous loan. "I'll take good care of it, and I'll bring it right back to you."

"No rush," Sirius assured him. "I won't need it, anyway."

Hagrid nodded as though confused and made his way to the motorbike. Sirius gave him a crash-course on driving the vehicle, then looked at him hopefully.

"Can I say goodbye to Harry before you go?"

"Sure," Hagrid said, obviously trying to match Sirius's generosity. He handed the baby over.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Sirius whispered as he cuddled him close. "I should have tried harder, I should have done more . . . I would give anything to bring them back to you. Anything." He kissed the baby's forehead. "I love you, Harry. I'll always remember you, and I'll always love you. I'll be waiting for you to join us in the wizarding world again."

With one last kiss, he gave the baby back to Hagrid. He stepped back to give Hagrid room to take off.

"Thanks again, Sirius," Hagrid said as the bike's engine roared to life.

"Don't mention it," Sirius replied.

Hagrid took off, taking the bike into the air. Sirius watched until Hagrid activated the invisibility function. He raised his hand to wave, knowing that Hagrid and Harry could see him, even if he couldn't see them.

He waited only a second longer before transforming into the great, bear-like dog. He had a hunting mission to accomplish.

Upon leaving Voldemort's office, Peter realized that his options were limited. He could not possibly go back to his friends; Sirius and Remus would never understand. They didn't know the Dark Lord as he did. They didn't know the terror of being threatened by death like he did. They didn't understand his past, his struggle for his father's acceptance, or anything else that had gone into his decision. They would only understand that James, Lily and Harry were gone, and that he, Peter was responsible.

He had to get out before they found him.

He went straight for Muggle London. Once Sirius and Remus realized what had happened, once they discussed everything, they would both know what had happened. They had always been more intelligent than him; they would realize in an instant that he had been the spy they had all been seeking for nearly two years. And once they had put all that together, they would start searching for him in all the normal wizarding haunts. They wouldn't think to look for him among Muggles.

But where could he go? Should he try to book a passage on a train to another part of England? Should he find a way to get to Continental Europe? He could get lost in Germany, in Spain, in France . . . no, Dana was in France. She would find him. He shook his head, trying to think of a way out. There had to be something he could do.

"PETTIGREW!"

Peter jumped and turned at the sound of his name. The bellowed name seemed to echo off the surrounding buildings. Peter looked for who could have called for him and felt his heart stop. Sirius was standing not ten feet from him, his expression showing rage like Peter had never seen before, not even when Sirius and James had battled over Olivia and Lily in their sixth year.

"Sirius," he breathed. "How – what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Sirius hissed menacingly as he made his way down the street, knocking people out of his path. "Where were you headed, Pettigrew? Going to make a run for it, I assume? Were you thinking of England, or all of Europe? You know, the Ministry has contacts in every country – it wouldn't be that hard to track you down. Anyone can smell a rat."

"You obviously couldn't," Peter said without thinking. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized the truth. He had, for the first time in his life, managed to deceive his friends. He had proven that he was just as clever as they were, if not more. He had pulled the wool firmly over their eyes, making them trust him when he was completely untrustworthy. And they had never suspected, never thought . . . He grinned maniacally.

"What are you on about?" Sirius asked.

"Do you realize how long I've been a step ahead of you?" Peter asked. "You never thought that I would amount to anything, did you, Sirius? But now look at us! You trusted me, didn't you? You did, James did, Lily did . . . You thought that Remus was the spy! You never guessed that it was me!"

"You call that brilliance?" Sirius scoffed. "You think it's impressive that you sold your best friends to Voldemort?"

Peter winced at the sound of the name. "Don't, Sirius . . ."

"Haven't you heard?" Sirius laughed. "It was all I heard about when I was tracking you. Yeah, you sent old Voldemort over to James and Lily's house, and he killed them – just as I'm about to kill you for what you've done – but he didn't kill Harry. Did you know that, Peter? Harry's just fine!"

"He's alive?" Peter asked, his eyes widening.

"Alive and on his way to live with his aunt if you don't convince Dumbledore that you were their Secret Keeper," Sirius hissed. "Which you will, because I'm going to give him my memory of this entire conversation after I kill you. But back to our story . . . Yes, Peter, Harry is fine. In fact, it appears that he may have destroyed Voldemort."

"Harry – Harry destroyed the Dark Lord?"

"Yes, he did. Right now, wizards all across the country are singing his praises . . . And you can just bet that the Death Eaters are going to be searching for your head. Wouldn't you far rather lose your life to a beloved friend than to the faceless minions of a defunct Dark Lord?"

Peter turned pale. Sirius was right. If the Dark Lord was gone, destroyed, the Death Eaters would be after him in force.

Sirius laughed at the sight of Peter's face. He raised his wand. "Just one question before I kill you, Peter – why did you do it?"

"Why?" Peter asked. "You should have learned by now, Sirius. Have you never thought about why I do anything?"

Sirius looked at him blankly. It was Peter's turn to laugh.

"No, of course not! You and James were always so obsessed with how wonderful you were, how powerful you were, how clever you were, you never even stopped to think about me at all, did you? And Remus never knew, either . . . he was always buried in his books, shutting himself away from the world . . . None of you ever realized that it would come to this, did you? You never knew and you never saw it coming because you never really took the time to get to know someone who you always said was one of your best friends!"

"You're using some pathetic argument to turn this around and make it my fault?" Sirius laughed. "Don't you think I blame myself enough already?"

"You never could see your own faults," Peter replied. "I'm just pointing them out."

"Are you quite through?" Sirius hissed.

"No," Peter said. "It's time for my final act." He pulled out his own wand, and raised his voice. "LILY AND JAMES, SIRIUS! YOU'VE BETRAYED THEM! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR BEST FRIENDS?"

Then, without warning, he shot a curse behind him that ripped the street apart, killing everyone within a ten-foot radius of him. He held up his hand and used his wand to cut off his finger, yelling in pain as the appendage fell to the ground. Then, with one last look at Sirius, one last smirk that said that he was the cleverest of them all, he transformed into his Animagus form and sped away down the open sewer drain.

Sirius looked at the spot where his former friend had stood, trying to comprehend all that he had seen, all that had happened over the course of the past few hours. Peter's betrayal of their trust, James and Lily's deaths, Harry stolen away from Sirius and sent to Lily's horrible sister, Peter killing all those people without blinking, Peter transforming, Peter running away, Peter faking his death . . .

He had seen too much. He had been through too much. He couldn't cry anymore. He did the only thing he could think to do.

He started laughing.

Like hysterical sobbing, his laughter became uncontrollable. He couldn't stop, not even when Cornelius Fudge and twenty Aurors and Ministry officials swooped down on him. He couldn't stop when the dementors were called in to lead him away. He couldn't stop, because if he stopped, he'd have to think about what happened. If he thought about it any more, he'd start crying. And if he started crying, he knew that he would never, ever be able to stop.

"Where is he?"

"Cell twelve," the guard replied.

Frank Longbottom and Alastor Moody made their slow progress down the hall of Azkaban to cell twelve. Frank stuffed a chocolate bar into his mouth, trying to fight off the affects of the dementors. He offered a piece to Moody, who shook his head.

They finally arrived at Sirius's cell. He was sitting by himself in the corner, staring blankly at the wall. He looked up as Longbottom and Moody came in, but couldn't seem to muster the energy to stand to greet them. He tried to smile, but failed. Any time he started to smile, the dementors were there, stealing any happiness that would have been necessary to make him smile. Even after only an hour in Azkaban, he had learned that much.

"What?" he asked, far more rudely than he had intended.

"Sirius," Longbottom sighed, sitting down across from him. "We've come to question you for the Ministry."

"Oh," Sirius said bitterly. "Well, you're wasting your time. There's no way Crouch will let me out. My God, he has everyone convinced that I killed thirteen people with one curse! Now, I ask you, who could possibly do that?"

"A very powerful wizard," Moody growled. "And we all know that you are indeed very powerful, Black. What doesn't make sense to me is why you did it."

"You think I did it?" Sirius asked.

"Until you tell us otherwise, we have no choice," Frank said. He ate another piece of chocolate. "All the evidence suggests that it was your doing."

"Well, then why are you here?" Sirius snapped. "You have 'all the evidence;' I suppose that my story counts for nothing."

"All the evidence says that you betrayed James and Lily Potter," Frank said slowly. "It also says that you killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles. Would you like to respond?"

Sirius buried his face in his hands. "James and Lily . . ." He looked up with misery in his face. "That is my fault. I killed them."

"You killed them?" Moody asked in shock. "No, that's impossible – Voldemort killed them."

"But it's my fault," Sirius moaned. "If I hadn't done . . . it was so stupid . . . I can't believe I trusted him . . ."

"Him?" Frank frowned. "Voldemort?"

"It's all my fault," Sirius moaned again.

The dementors were obviously taking their toll. He began to rock back and forth, repeating the same four words over and over.

"We're not going to get any more sense out of him," Moody said, taking a bite of his own chocolate bar. "Come on, Longbottom, let's get out of here."

Frank nodded, and stood to his feet. They walked back out of the prison, both silent until they were on the mainland again.

"I can't believe it," Frank muttered. "I never would have thought it possible. He was one of the best new Aurors we had. I was sure he'd be one of the best members of the force."

"I was going to ask him to help with the training program next year," Moody said bitterly. "Him and Olivia Alexander. I thought they'd be good at it, having completed it so recently . . . I don't know how he managed to fool us all like that."

Frank shook his head. "I thought he was so different from the rest of his family."

"Some things are just bred into a person," Moody replied. "I was like you – I thought that he was opposed to his family enough to have shaken off their obsession with the Dark Arts. I guess I was wrong." He laughed mirthlessly. "His parents must be so proud."

"We're going to have to be more careful in the future," Frank said. "We have to make sure we don't let anyone else like him into the program. Think of what he could have done, what information he had access to. He could have destroyed the Ministry if he had wanted to. He had everything he needed – all he had to do was to give it to Voldemort."

"I'm surprised he didn't," Moody said thoughtfully.

"Why do you suppose he didn't?"

"I don't know," Moody said, shaking his head. "After all these years of work, you'd think I'd know how the dark wizard's mind works by now." He looked furious with himself. "I can't believe he had me so convinced that he was on our side."

"He had all of us convinced." Frank glanced at his watch. "As much as I'd like to continue this circular conversation of how unobservant we've been, I need to get home."

"Date with the family?"

"Yeah. Alice and I are taking Neville camping for the weekend. We're leaving in the morning."

"Finally think it's safe to leave the house?" Moody asked, knowing that the Longbottoms had been protected by a Fidelius Charm for quite some time.

"Finally," Frank grinned. "I need to get home to pack."

"Well, have a nice trip," Moody said. "I expect you in on time on Monday morning."

"I'll be there," Frank promised. "And, Moody – don't beat yourself up too much over this Black thing. None of us realized what was going on. You're not the only one."

"No," Moody replied, the bitterness returning to his tone. "But I'm the only one who's never been fooled before."

Frank sighed, and shook his head. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Have a fun weekend," Moody replied.

Frank raised his hand to wave, then Disapparated. Moody stared at the spot where he had been for several moments, then Disapparated as well. He wanted to get home, where he could brood in peace.

Frank did not come to work on time on Monday morning. After leaving Moody that night, he returned home, where he and his wife were attacked by four Death Eaters who were searching for information about their presumed-dead master.

The next time Moody saw Frank Longbottom was during a visit to his room in St. Mungo's. He was so appalled by what he saw that he could never summon the strength to return to visit his colleagues again. But he did return to work, filled with a new passion to rid the world of Death Eaters. After what Sirius had done, after what those four people had done to Frank and Alice, Moody felt for the first time that Death Eaters did not have hearts. For the first time, he started to think that Barty Crouch's harsh policies were right on track. And after being so fooled by Sirius, he lost faith in nearly everyone. He could never bring himself to fully trust another person again.