A/N: Harry Potter is J.K Rowling's, that clever lady. But these words are mine.
Thanks angelcity and dempi for your reviews. It does mean a lot that you like it so far, hope this doesn't disappoint.
It was good to be in the fresh air. To be able to see the sky. He hadn't seen sky for twelve years. He had never realised how much he missed it, its potential, not being fenced in. Trapped.
He'd always been active, he'd always been fit. But now his body felt old and frail. Wasted. For the first time he'd seen his reflection. He hadn't recognised the face staring back at him. The gaunt, skeletal features. The dead eyes. It would have mattered to him twelve years ago. He would have cared then.
Now the one thing he cared about was Harry. Harry who was the last part of James left. Harry who he could protect as he'd failed to protect James. The last thing that mattered. And he was in the same place, or would be, as Peter.
The date on the paper he found was mid July. That meant in just over a month Harry should be boarding the Hogwarts express due for school. But so would Peter. The man who had everything but murdered Harry's parents. Murdered James. The rat who had been the cause of so much death and so much pain.
Sirius first instinct was to go to Dumbledore. But then reason, for once, had prevailed. Dumbledore believed him to be a mad man, a murderer and a traitor. Dumbledore would kill him or incapacitate him before he could even open his mouth.
Then he thought of Harry, of convincing his Godson of his innocence. But Harry would have only heard the official story. Would hate Sirius Black. Would probably want to kill him for handing his parents to Voldermort.
Moony? His old friend Remus? He had believed him to be the traitor, believed the worst of him. So there was an almost certainty that his fellow marauder would have believed the worst of Sirius in return. Especially with so much evidence against him.
Without proof, he knew no would believe him. And the only proof he had was that Peter was alive. The he had been for these last twelve years, while he'd been safely locked up in Azkaban; Peter had not shown himself. Had hidden. That was his proof. And he knew exactly where his old friend would be on September 1st.
He knew he would have to stay in the shadows. Bide his time and when he had the opportunity, kill the worthless rat. Now he thought about it, Peter's animagus had been so appropriate. As if a bit of fore-shadowing had been going on all those years ago.
So, Hogwarts it was. But he had one thing he had to do before setting off on the long journey.
888
He crouched in the shadows as Padfoot. He'd arrived at Privet Drive to find a great deal of commotion. Wizards and witches everywhere, at first he had thought the worst. That something had happened to Harry. But then he over-heard one bald black wizard mention Harry to a blonde witch.
"He's gone. That fool Dursley let him just walk out. Alone. With Sirius Black on the loose!"
Sirius slunk away, worried. Harry had run away? He had heard a lot about Lily's silly sister and her fool of a husband, but let him leave in the middle of the night?
Then he picked up a scent which made his nose twitch. Sharp, like sawdust and yet with a softer note of... sweet flowers? Harry. It had to be. He smelled like James and Lily. Following it he padded softly, through the pristine streets. Finally he ducked into some bushes.
A little further ahead a boy was sat on a large trunk staring about as if in a daze. Sirius felt a tightening in his chest, then the boy looked in his direction and he couldn't breath.
If he hadn't seen James' lifeless body he would have believed it to be his closest friend, except when he was thirteen. His black hair stuck up in the same, messy, unrulely way. He slouched his slim frame in the same slightly dejected way.
His height was almost exactly the same as James had been then, he had the same thin pale face and even wore the same style glasses…
Except, now he looked closer. There were differences. His nose. And. Oh God. His eyes.
Even as Padfoot he felt his heart tighten and his stomach drop. He had Lily's eyes. Soft, almond shape and brilliantly green. And there marring his forehead was a lightening shape scar. The scar. The only mark left on him from Voldermort's killing curse. The same curse which had killed James and Lily.
And with that he felt such an overwhelming anger surging through him. Made stronger by the dog shape.
Harry was the truly innocent one in all this. And here he was, alone, no parents, no Godfather, completely vulnerable and with a scar on his forehead. A permanent reminder of what Peter had done. Such hatred was coursing through his veins, like a torrent and he knew if Peter were here he would gladly kill him with his bare hands. Kill him like he should have all those years ago. Those two words would come so easy to him now.
He must have made a sound because Harry was on his feet with his wand in his hand.
"Lumos." And a light shone on him.
And then Sirius knew James was still alive. In his son. Because Harry stepped forward. Stepped forward towards the unknown. Towards danger. Just as his father would have done. Then he seemed to trip over his trunk, his wand shooting out of his outstretched hand.
A loud bang startled Sirius as a purple triple decker bus appeared out of thin air. Seeing Harry clamber up he decided he would have to make do with that glimpse of him before he started North.
Disappearing into the undergrowth he found a soft spot under a tree and slumped down. Harry. He had never imagined he would look so like James. With Lily's eyes.
And for the first time in twelve years Sirius cried.
