To Walk Through Fire
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and the characters associated with him. They belong to J.K. Rowling. I am not making money off of this story. So please don't sue.
Chapter XIV: Sirius Conversations
Fudge looked at the numbers once again. They were incredibly high. Too high for an attack on a bunch of outlaws. If any of the others working at the Ministry were to see those numbers he would lose his job faster than he could apparate. No, he couldn't allow anyone to discover the truth, no one. He would have a bonfire tonight and destroy the condemning documents. Most of those who had died did not have a family to go home to. Their deaths would be easy to cover up. It would be difficult to cover up the deaths of the ones who did families. Well only three with families had died. That was quite a few men dead for a bunch of outlaws, but not enough to be seriously questioned. He would just remind the people how dangerous "Sirius Black" was. He would make a powerful speech about their deaths and support their families – everyone would think he was so honorable and kind if he did that. But he had to stop the Aurors deaths before the public realized that they were up against more than a bunch of renegade Death Eaters led by an escaped criminal. But what would he do about Azkaban? Abandoning it was out of the question, the public would certainly notice that.
He put the report down. This was an assignment for his good friend. She would be able to cover it up, allowing for the public to think that everything was dealt with, and perhaps that Black was in jail. Then he could have several anonymous employees look for Black and bring him in, disguised of course, back to the Ministry where he Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, could deal with the escaped, innocent convict as he wished.
A knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts.
A young blond girl, newly graduated from a private wizarding school entered. He had hired her as his secretary. She was intelligent and loyal enough not to be a spy, yet she wasn't brilliant enough to piece everything together and start to reveal truths that were better left hidden.
"Minister Fudge, sir." She said brightly, smiling at him. He ignored the urge to roll his eyes and smiled back at her. Sometimes her bright positive attitude annoyed him to no end. It almost made him consider placing young Percy Weasley in her place. He was loyal, and intelligent, with an ambition to prove himself, but Fudge did not know exactly where the boy's loyalty was. Was he loyal to Dumbledore, to his family? Or was he loyal to the Ministry? And the ambition that the young Weasley had frightened Fudge, the boy could desire his position as Minister of Magic. It would not do. He wanted to keep the position. So he had kept Synthia Lemming, the smiling, bubbly blond girl as his secretary and tolerated her optimistic attitude. "Your 1:00 appointment is here, sir."
He almost scowled at her as she declared those words happily. Next time he hired a secretary it would be a mute.
"Thank you Synthia, please send her in." He kept the smile plastered on his face.
"Yes sir." She gave another bright smile before closing the door and walking away.
A few seconds later the expensive oak door opened once again. This time it wasn't the smiling, bubbly secretary, but his best friend and confidant. "Please come in and have a seat." He motioned to the comfortable chair in front of him. No other words were wasted on greetings, neither felt the need for it.
"I have an assignment for you." He said once she was seated. "I want you to cover up the attack on Azkaban and make it look like we put the renegades down. I have lost too many Aurors to continue this little fight. And do be quick about it, I can't afford to lose anymore Aurors, it would become apparent if I did. Somewhere in this attack I would like to see Black's dead body. I don't care if you use a glamorie spell or transfiguration, just something that looks like Black will do. If the public believes that he is dead, they will believe that we have solved the problem, and they will have more faith in us." And then he would let it slip to Albus at their next meeting that the Death Eaters had the prison.
The figure across from him grinned maliciously, she seemed to love the political scandal. "Yes sir, I'll get to the work immediately."
"See that you do, for I'm going to call the Aurors off Azkaban today. I'll have you adjust their memory to allow for them to remember the truth of what really happened."
The figure stood up gracefully. "Oh, and could you gather a group of men to capture a living Sirius Black for me, preferably ones that won't babble the truth. I don't want any stray wizards to see him."
"Of course sir." The figure grinned once again and left without another word.
***************
She grinned as she walked out of the Ministry building. Her Master would be so proud of her, Fudge was going in the direction the Dark Lord wanted him to, without even realizing he was following the Dark Lord's plans. Surely she would be greatly rewarded for this . . .
***************
Peter Pettigrew stared at the castle in front of him. He could still remember when he had first came to Hogwarts, how excited he had been. It had been here that he had befriended three of the best people in the world – James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. Granted he had never been as close to them as they had been to each other – James and Sirius had been inseparable – but they had been his best friends. They would have done anything for him –
NO!
That was not true, they would never let him make any decisions, well none of the big decisions. With them he had never had any power, he was always shy little Peter Pettigrew. He had certainly proved them wrong. A malicious smile appeared on his face. Now he was the personal servant to the Dark Lord. Part of him wondered if that was so much better, but he ruthlessly squashed it. he would always be loyal to the Dark Lord, not even his Wizard's debt to Harry Potter would stop him. Harry Potter was dead – food for the worms!
Slowly the small, furry creature approached the castle. He had been slowly moving towards the wards that guarded the school all morning, afraid that he would set them off. His Master had said that he should be able to slip through them, but that he should be wary, there was no knowing if Dumbledore had placed more wards and spells around the castle that not even Snape knew about. Wormtail shuddered. That man gave him the creeps still, even after all these years.
He knew that that man still hated him, and the rest of the Marauders with a passion. Especially after they had . . .
No! Don't think about them. He quickly squashed his thoughts about the Marauders. They were his past, Potter, Black and Lupin were his past and they would remain that way. He would stop thinking about them.
But he had betrayed them . . .
They had deserved it!
He forced himself to keep moving. It seemed to take forever to transverse to the front entrance of the castle, especially as a small rat, but he made it without any mishaps – unless he counted the number of little sharp objects he had stepped on. At least his feet were not bleeding. Or he hoped they were not bleeding. If they were he would be in trouble, he should have just put up a sign instead saying "Peter Pettigrew was here" and let Black hunt him down. Black could – in his animagus form – smell his blood from almost a mile away.
Turning as best he could in his rat form, he checked his feet.
Nope.
No blood.
That was good. He squeaked happily and started to move into the castle once again. Being a rat had its advantages, and all those years of hanging around the Weasleys had allowed him to explore parts of Hogwarts he had never seen before, from the perspective of a rat. He knew that there was a small hole near the large doors of the castle, just big enough to allow him to crawl through. No one, not even Black and Lupin knew of the extensive maze of rat sized passages that existed throughout Hogwarts.
He laughed. Well it sounded more like he was coughing in his rat form, but it meant all the same to him. He had, for once, out thought Black and Lupin; neither would ever think that there were hundreds of passages that only he could fit through. Nor would they be able to find him, they would not think that he would come here like this. His master would be so proud of him. He would be able to here everything that was going on and no one would be the wiser. He would be the Dark Lord's most trusted Death Eater, second in command . . .
Peter Pettigrew, even greater than Lucius Malfoy!
It was perfect.
Now if only he could find where Black and Lupin were currently staying. Or where Albus Dumbledore was. The Dark Lord had told him that if Black and Lupin weren't in the castle then the old headmaster would know where they were, and perhaps he would tell someone else. Or have the information hidden in his office. If not he could always eavesdrop on the old man, no one would notice a rat hidden in the corner, they would not be looking for him here. No one would think that he would dare enter Hogwarts as a rat.
Slowly he crept through the halls, towards the direction he believed the headmaster's office to be in. Hopefully the man was discussing something important when he arrived so he would not have to keep the Dark Lord waiting.
Although why the Dark Lord wanted for Peter to listen to Black and Lupin –
especially Black – Pettigrew had no idea.
Nor did he dare ask.
***************
Sirius stared at his son, who lay ghastly pale on the bed. He wished that he could take the boy's place there, he would give anything to remove the pain that his son had suffered. It was all his fault that his son had suffered the life he had. If only he hadn't been a fool and trusted Pettigrew to be the secret keeper. If only he had not gone after Pettigrew – then he would have cleared up everything, or he would have had a slight chance for a fair trial. He should have taken Harry away from his relatives, should have let Harry stay with him and Remus over the summer, even if the last Marauders had an assignment to complete, which they still hadn't, at least then his son would not have had to suffer any of this. Harry did not deserve anything he had suffered. He didn't deserve the life that Sirius' mistakes and the choices of others had forced upon him.
He should not have had to grow up with relatives who did not care about him.
Nor should he have had to suffer Voldemort's wrath.
Or the results of Fudge's scheming.
He wished to go back in time now and fix his mistakes more fervently than ever. He would give his life to save this boy from every little wound he had suffered.
If only he had listened to the words of his father and not married Lily . . . but no then his son wouldn't be here, the boy would never have had a chance at life.
If only . . .Sirius stopped himself. Moony kept pointing out to him, it was no use wishing for a different past. He had to look towards the future.
Look forward to what he was not sure.
Harry might never want to speak to him again. Voldemort was killing people again. Not to mention that his wife was dead. And his best friend. He was a criminal on the run. The only thing he had left was one of his best friends, Remus Lupin. But Remus could be killed because of his friendship with Sirius, and although he did not know if he live without his friend, Sirius knew that he had to somehow put a space between him and Moony. If Voldemort believed that he and Remus were no longer best friends, then the Dark Lord would no longer go after Remus. He would have no leverage against Sirius to gain his support.
No. He couldn't look into the future. Unless some miracle happened, which he knew it would not, the future was bleak. Too bleak to contemplate.
For now he would only concentrate on the moment. Every moment spent with his son was more than he deserved. And it was something he would always have to treasure in his heart. Even if the boy was lying pale in bed.
Nearly dead . . .
Sirius clutched the boy's hand softly and watched the boy's chest rise and fall. Just watching the small child's chest rise and fall was relief. The boy's breathing was still shallow, but Madame Pomphrey had assured him that Harry would be alright. Sirius was still worried about it though. Every time the boy's shallow breathing had stopped for a second he was ready to shout for the nurse, only to be, thankfully, thwarted when the boy's chest rose again.
Up.
One.
Two.
The boy's chest slowly rose and began to fall again.
Down.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
The boy's chest did not immediately rise again.
Sirius jumped up and was about to yell for the nurse when the boy's chest suddenly rose again.
The dark haired man let out a relieved sigh and sat back down again.
Madame Pomphrey had assured him that his son would be fine. Her judgment was usually correct – she had healed him enough times and from certain serious injuries that he still winced at remembering. After the fifth time he had called her over because he thought that Harry wouldn't inhale any more air – it had been three whole seconds before Harry's chest had risen again! – Madame Pomphrey had lectured him in a loud whisper and told him that if he didn't stop calling her then he would have to leave the infirmary. He had no doubt that she would force him to leave – murderer or no (neither he nor Albus had bothered to tell the nurse the truth of his criminal record, the nurse would never tell the Minister anyways, she did not like the man). She had told him that he had to wait at least five seconds before calling her over. Then she had gone off muttering about over concerned parents, which would have, at another time, caused Sirius to burst into laughter, the nurse was a mother hen to any who needed her services as a nurse, whether they wanted it or not. There was no way that he was leaving his son along in the too bright hospital wing, so he had listened to the school nurse and decided to wait five seconds before calling her over.
Gently Sirius took the boy's hand back into his own. The hand he had dropped so that he could stand up to yell for the nurse if he needed to. It was too bony, in his opinion, but then again his had been too. After those years in Azkaban, and eating rats afterwards without any good meals for a long time – until the end of Harry's third year when he had stayed with Remus. But still . . .the boy's hands – no his body – shouldn't have been as bony as it was after only a week of barely eating anything. Sure he would have lost some weight, but he shouldn't be as thin as he was should he?
That concerned Sirius to no end.
He had a feeling that Poppy Pomphrey was going to fatten Harry up in no time, which he would be grateful for. She had already attempted to force feed him – attempted being the key word – but he had refused her ministrations. She had not taken it kindly, but there was nothing she could do. Or perhaps she knew that there was nothing she could do at the moment, not until Harry was better. Then he had a feeling both him and Harry were in for it. And they would both find out the reason why Severus Snape refused to stay in the hospital wing even though he was nearly falling over in exhaustion and pain.
Sirius stopped that line of thought.
He really did not want to think about Severus Snape now. That topic was too confusing.
Up.
One.
Two.
Down.
One.
Two.
Three.
Up.
Harry's chest slowly rose and fell. It had a great calming effect on him, watching his child breath – especially with the glamorie spells off so that the boy no longer looked like his best friend. He would not have been able to handle it had Harry looked like James and been that pale. The last time he had seen James that pale was the last time he had ever seen his best friend, during . . .that night. Sirius shuddered softly. It would be too much for him if Harry had looked like that. Even the paleness in the child was frightening enough . . . Lily had been so pale as she had lain there . . . Images of that night flooded into his head. He had seen those images every night since it had happened.
He had been a fool. He should have trusted Remus, but all signs pointed to his werewolf friend as the traitor. How was anyone to suspect that quiet, timid Peter Pettigrew was the traitor?
Because of the signs. Pete – no Pettigrew had always been sneaking around. Once Sirius had caught him lurking in Lily's garden. The rat had claimed that he was looking for something he had lost. Spying for his master was more like it. Pettigrew had probably been trying to eavesdrop on Lily and James, although Harry's frustrated cries had thwarted his efforts.
Sirius gave a sliver of a smile. As soon as he had caught Pettigrew and stopped the rat from listening Harry had stopped crying – almost as if he had known what was going on, what Pettigrew had been doing. And Pettigrew had left immediately on some – probably imagined – errand that he had forgotten. He should have realized it then. Realized what Pettigrew was doing. Why would he have believed Pettigrew about it anyways? Because, a small voice in his head whispered, he wanted to believe that Peter Pettigrew was still your friend, he wanted everything to be the same as it was. Because it was so hard to believe that a spineless, bumbling fool like Pettigrew could ever work for Voldemort.
That was until that night.
Sirius shuddered and ignored that thought.
Up.
One.
Two.
Down.
One.
Two.
Three.
Up.
Harry's chest kept rising and falling. It was shallow and slow, too much so for Sirius' liking, but it was better than nothing.
Sirius felt his eyes start to droop. After not sleeping for a couple of days he was exhausted. He pinched himself and forced himself to stay awake. He couldn't fall asleep, not until he had seen that Harry was okay, not until Harry woke up.
He sat up straighter in the uncomfortable hospital chair, which despite it's best attempts to keep him awake was beginning to fail miserably, trying to find a position that was a little more comfortable, and yet would help him stay awake. It was useless, he knew, he had already tried finding a comfortable spot a couple of hours ago and had yet to still find one. He would bet that Madame Pomphrey had hexed the chairs to make them uncomfortable so that the visitors would not stay long. Sirius still refused to leave Harry's side, uncomfortable chair or no.
Suddenly footsteps broke through the sterile silence.
Sirius tensed.
He hoped that it was only Madame Pomphrey, but he didn't think so. The footsteps sounded masculine, someone who weighed more than the lithe – yet commanding – nurse did. Sirius listened as they approached closer, prepared to change into a dog in an instant. As much as he wanted to stay with his son, he knew that he would put Harry in more danger and he would never do that if he could help it. Especially if the unknown stranger approaching was Fudge . . .
He listened closer to the sound of the footsteps. Madame Pomphrey would usually stop anyone wanting to come into her domain, unless they had a good reason to enter. She would definitely stop anyone, except the Headmaster, from entering the curtained enclosure that hid him and his son. But what if she had left to go eat, or . . . do whatever the nurse usually did during the day when she wasn't tending patients?
Somehow he knew that the owner of those footsteps was coming to him and Harry. Sirius forced himself to slowly breath out. He had to keep his head about him. The owner of those footsteps could just be that of . . .Albus? No the headmaster barely made a sound as he walked. It didn't sound like Fudge's footsteps – Sirius knew the sound of those footsteps well, he had listened for them every year in Azkaban. Who else did he know that was male and would be walking around in the hospital wing? Where had he heard those footsteps before? It was definitely someone he knew.
Who was it?
The footsteps now were just outside of the curtain surrounding him and Harry. Sirius could feel his heart beat faster. He didn't want to leave Harry for a few minutes, nor did he have the desire to be attacked by a soul sucking dementor – although the Ministry probably wasn't using them anymore, they'd probably still execute him though – and leave his son alone forever.
Sirius was just about to change when the curtains were pulled back. Sirius, in an impromptu attempt to protect both himself and his son, grabbed his wand and stood protectively in front of Harry. He would rather die fighting, protecting his son than go meekly like some small pup to his death. And he would not reveal the fact that he was an illegal animagus.
As soon as Sirius saw who it was he let out a relieved sigh and a small grin slowly appeared on his face. He should have known whose footsteps those were. He had heard them for nearly half his life, not to mention the fact that he had always listened for those footsteps during his visits with Lily, afraid that the kind, haggard man who now stood in front of him would betray both him and his family to Voldemort sending them all to a horrible death . . . or something even worse.
Sirius placed his wand back on the table that held Harry's wand and barely stopped himself from collapsing in relief. Several days – very stressful days with hardly any sleep was almost too much for him to handle – it was making him skittish. Perhaps he should take Poppy's advice and sleep for a couple of hours . . .but no, he did not want to leave his son alone – not after what Harry had to go through.
The man before him hardly looked like the friend he remembered from his days at school. Remus was haggard and looked exhausted. Dark circles under the man's eyes, despite the amount of sleep the man had, was the only colour decorating his face. The brown hair that covered the man's head was bespeckled with premature gray. The worry lines did nothing to help his friend's appearance, only made the man seem older than he actually was. Much older. The years had definitely not been kind to Remus Lupin.
Immediately he realized that his friend was trembling, Remus had just suffered through a full moon after all. Sirius put his wand down, beside Harry's and walked over to his friend.
"Come Moony, come and sit down, you look terrible." He pulled his friend towards the uncomfortable hospital chair that he had been sitting on. The fact that Moony did not protest told him how exhausted he was even now, after being unconscious for a long time after a transformation. He hated offering his friend the uncomfortable hospital chair, but it was all that he had to offer Remus, he did not think that the man could stand much longer. The werewolf collapsed gratefully onto the hard chair.
Sirius slowly sat down on Harry's hospital bed, careful not to move the boy. Luckily the hospital bed was big enough to allow him to sit down beside his unconscious son. Harry did not even seem to realize that someone had sat down on his bed. Sirius once again took his son's hand into his own. He felt that he was doing something when he was his son's hand.
"How is he?" Remus asked looking at the small, too pale boy on the bed. Sirius looked at his son. He wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. Harry couldn't be good, he was unconscious and pale, not to mention his breathing was too shallow.
"He's still alive," he whispered softly brushing an awry lock of hair off Harry's forehead. That was the best answer he could think of. He knew that Harry was not alright. But at least his son still lived, despite his failures to save Harry.
"He will come through Padfoot, just give him time." Remus said softly, looking back and forth between father and son.
Sirius did not look at his friend, but kept his eyes on Harry. He wished there was something he could do. Anything.
He felt his friend's eyes fall on him, and he became
tense. This was the first time he had
seen his friend since the truth had been revealed. He knew that seeing Harry – without the glamorie spells – and him
together would prove the truth of Sirius' story. Slowly he looked up into his friend's eyes, frightened of what he
would see there. He expected to see
betrayal, or even worse . . .hate. But
he saw none of that in his friend's eyes.
There was only pain and friendship written on the werewolf's face. His soft, brown eyes spoke of love and
trust. Moony didn't think he had
betrayed him? Perhaps Remus had
forgotten what he had told him just last night.
Had it only been last night?
"Moony," he said taking a sudden interest in the floor – which was, thankfully, stone gray, unlike the white of the rest of the hospital wing. "I'm sorry for not telling you earlier about – well, the truth." He muttered. "It's just that . . ."
"Padfoot."
"I . . .well . . .I thought you were the traitor and I didn't – "
"Padfoot!"
"Tell you earlier because I thought that Harry should know first and I really didn't want to tell you about the . . .well my relation to Voldemort . . ."
"Sirius!"
Sirius remained completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend was practically yelling his name. He continued to babble on, unable to stop himself. "And if Harry didn't want me as his father – which he probably doesn't – I really didn't want anyone to know. It would be the least I could do for him, so that no one would ever suspect a thing, no one would ever bother him about his relation to me, unless all those glamorie spells wore off. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, those spells should have stayed the same. Harry shouldn't have had to go to Azkaban, it's all my fault. He's going to hate me, more so than you – "
"Sirius Black!" Remus snapped loudly.
Sirius suddenly realized that Remus was yelling his name. His eyes snapped up to look at his friend – well he hoped that Remus would still be his friend. He didn't know if he would be able to stand losing both his son and his last friend.
Remus was looking at him calmly, his expression hadn't changed from what it had been. He did not look angry or mad – a little frustrated, but that was probably because Sirius had been babbling on – again.
"Sirius relax, I understand why you didn't tell me. I do not hate you, nor could I ever. You are my friend, no matter what your parentage. But please could you stop babbling, it makes you sound like a madman, and I know you aren't crazy, yet."
"But . . ." Sirius began, completely ignoring the joke that Remus had attempted to make. Why was Remus doing this? Wasn't he supposed to feel betrayed that he had never heard the truth before, that Sirius and James had never trusted him enough to tell the truth? Shouldn't Remus be afraid of him, or disgusted by him, he was Voldemort's offspring after all – he shuddered at that thought. Sirius was about to ask his friend if he had gone mad, but Remus spoke before he could say another word.
"Sirius calm down. I do understand why you didn't tell me any of this. I do not care if you are Voldemort's son. However I don't understand why you believe that Harry won't want you as his father." Remus stated calmly.
Padfoot realized that his mouth was hanging open and immediately shut it. Remus didn't care that Voldemort was related to him. His friend understood why he hadn't told him about . . .well . . .all about him and Harry. Remus didn't care! Sirius smiled, but the small hand clasped in his stopped him from jumping in joy, things were far from alright, however they had become better with Remus' words.
Remus still accepted him for what he was, for what he had done . . . but would Harry accept him as a father?
Probably not.
Sirius knew that Harry, who was so desperate for a parent that he had wanted to live with a man he had just met, would never forgive him for not speaking the truth sooner. Harry would hate him for it.
"Sirius." Remus broke into his thoughts. "Why would Harry not want you as his father? He already sees you as a father figure, he's the one he wrote to last year when his scar hurt – like any child would tell their parent. He's desperate for any love and affection that a parent could give him. He jumped at the chance to live with you when he first met you, even though he had only known you a couple of hours."
"Cause I never told him the truth." Sirius muttered softly into his lap. He didn't dare look up at his friend's face. He did not want to see what was written there. "I never took the initiative to tell him."
"But you never really had time to tell him. The Shrieking Shack definitely wasn't a good place, and you couldn't send this in a letter. Nor did you have time last year because of the tournament. If Harry had been distracted, and not concentrated on the tournament he could have been hurt, or even worse. So when did you expect to tell him Sirius?" Remus asked calmly and logically.
Sirius didn't look up at his friend. "Last year I could have when he came to that cave just out of Hogsmeade – "
Remus interrupted him. "But Ron and Hermione were there, you wouldn't have wanted them to know too, would you, the fewer people who know a secret the better it's kept. Harry would probably prefer to learn about his parentage without them around anyway, then he could have told them when he wanted to."
"I could have told him at the beginning of summer," Sirius looked up for the first time and glared at his friend. It was partially Moony's fault that he hadn't gone and rescued Harry from the Dursleys. "Then none of this would have happened, I could have rescued him then. I'm his father, I'm supposed to protect him from things like this. He's going to hate me Remus." Sirius muttered voicing his fear aloud. The floor once again became very interesting. "I failed him in every possible way I could. I left him to the mercy of those muggles, those relatives of Lily's, whom I have a feeling have treated him worse than he has ever told anyone. Then I failed to keep him out of Voldemort's reach – not once or twice, but three times! And I've failed to keep him out of the Ministry's hands. And then I left him to rot in a cell in Azkaban! In Azkaban, Remus, a place I swore I'd never let anyone I loved suffer there. That dreadful place! The place I still have nightmares about. He had to suffer in Azkaban for a week! I should have stopped them. I should have gone in there to rescue him, I shouldn't have listened to Albus. What parent would allow their child to rot in Azkaban? For even a day, much less a week?" Sirius muttered. "He's going to hate me, if he doesn't already."
"Sirius listen to me. Harry doesn't hate you. Nor will he. It wasn't your fault that you couldn't save him from Azkaban. If you had gone there the Ministry would have found you and then both of you would be trapped in Azkaban. And what help would you have been to Harry then? Or worse if Voldemort had caught you? We couldn't take Harry with us when the summer holiday began, remember what we were doing Padfoot – Harry wouldn't be safe with us at that time either, none of us knew what was going to happen. It was not your fault Sirius." Remus said firmly before his friend could protest.
Sirius sighed. No matter what his friend said it was still his fault. How could he make his friend understand? "It's my fault. I should have told Albus from the beginning. I shouldn't have gone after Pettigrew. I should have trusted you. I should have been Lily and James' secret keeper. Everything comes back to the mistakes I've made."
"What about me Padfoot? My mistakes have come to this as well. I should have begged for a trial – a fair trial – for you. I should have fought harder to adopt Harry. I should have protested when the Ministry sent Harry to prison, I should have worked harder to come up with a solution." Remus said tiredly, shifting slightly in the chair. Sirius felt a wave of empathy for his friend sitting in that horribly uncomfortable chair. "And what about circumstance Sirius? If any of the Death Eaters found out about your connection to Harry and Voldemort . . .And what about going to Azkaban – that was beyond your control – they would have sent you there had you gone after Pettigrew or not. So is the fact that you're an escaped – although innocent – convict whom the Ministry is trying to hunt down. Not to mention that Voldemort's back and wants – wanted Harry dead." Remus shook his head, his mussed brown, silver-speckled hair flopping about. "If you were to blame anyone, it would be the fault of circumstance. It would be everyone's fault for making the decisions that they did. And Harry won't hate you for that. He's desperate to be loved, Sirius, he hasn't had many people love him and he wants it . . .no he needs to be loved. He won't reject anyone who loves, or is willing to love him."
Sirius couldn't argue with that. He knew that Harry was desperate to be loved, he had seen it in the boy's eyes when he asked Harry if he would live with him, just over a year ago. Maybe Remus was right, perhaps he was just being foolish. He didn't reply to Remus' words. He didn't need to reply. From the look in Moony's eyes, his friend knew that he had accepted those words. Although there was still a nagging sense in him that feared Harry would never forgive him . . .
The room fell silent.
Sirius turned his eyes back to his son. Perhaps he wouldn't be banished when Harry woke up. Harry would want his love and attention. Harry would want to have him as a parent figure. But could Harry forgive him for not telling the truth?
He certainly wished it would be so.
Up.
One.
Two.
Down.
One.
Two.
Three.
Up.
One.
Two.
Down.
One.
Two.
Three.
Up.
Harry's chest continued to rise and fall with his slow shallow breathing. That worried Sirius more than the deathly paler of the boy's skin. Madame Pomphrey had told him that it was normal for someone in Harry's situation to be breathing like that. Sirius was still worried.
"Why did James do it?" Remus broke the silence. Sirius looked up at his best friend in curiosity.
"What?" he croaked out.
"Why did James pretend to be married to Lily? He could have married another, someone that he loved more than anything, or at least gone out dating with more girls. It had to have been a sacrifice for him." Remus smiled his eyes had a far away look as if he was remembering happier times.
"I know it was." Sirius said softly. "As for the reason why, I think only he knew. He never told me, or Lily. It was partially out of friendship to the both of us, but as for the other reason, I don't know. I can speculate why, but when I asked him fro the truth he just pushed me away." Sirius swallowed. Out of all the years he had known James – and he had known James since he was four – that month, when James had pushed him away, had avoided him so that Sirius wouldn't ask that one question – why – had been the worst months when they were together. It had been awful. Remus and Pettigrew had been avoiding them because of the recent prank they had played on several Slytherin third years, which both had completely disagreed with. Then he had asked James why and had been told coldly to go away – James had never pushed him away like that before – and to mind his own business. Then James had avoided him for an entire month. Only Lily had spoken to him during that month, everyone else avoided him as if he had the plague. The only advantage was that his marks had miraculously increased, there had been nothing else to do but read, although he did think up several creative pranks – which several Ravenclaw fifth years had the honor of receiving later. Sirius shuddered. He would have given all those marks back just to have had James and the rest of the Marauders speaking to him – even Peter Pettigrew!
"What do you speculate?" Remus asked sounding genuinely curious.
"Remember Laurel, you know that Slytherin girl that James asked out during our fifth year, just before Christmas?" Sirius began.
"The one who he was mooning over, who refused to even look at him? I thought you were too wrapped up in Lily's charm to even notice." Remus smiled as if he was once again caught up in the memories.
Sirius nodded, though he doubted that his friend even saw that movement. "I think that he had other motives than being our friend when he dated Lily." Sirius looked at his friend with a shadow of his conspiratorial smile.
"You mean he did it to make Laurel jealous." Remus smirked. Sirius nodded again. "Well it certainly worked. She was always throwing hateful glares Lily's way . . . And then there was that explosion in potions class. You know, when Lily and Laurel were paired up. I think Laurel caused it to get Lily in trouble."
Sirius snorted. The explosion had been spectacular, destroying the entire potions' classroom. The class had been cancelled for several days afterwards, much to the Marauders' delight. Although Lily hadn't been happy when she received a weeks detention with Laurel for it.
"I remember that. And I have a feeling that James began dating her and she believed that Lily was a cover up for her. Her parents definitely would not have been happy to hear that she was dating a Slytherin so she accepted it." Sirius moved slightly to look at his son for a second.
"So James was using Lily as a cover for her and you were using James?" Remus speculated. "Interesting."
But why hadn't she used anyone as a cover? Sirius had always wondered that. The boys had chased her up and down. In fact he was certain that Snape had been in love with her.
"I'm only hypothesizing why." Sirius shrugged.
"Why wouldn't he tell you though? That's not like James, he told you everything." Remus muttered, almost as if to himself.
"I don't know Remus," Sirius answered unnecessarily. "Only James would know the answer to that question. It could have been because she asked him not to, and he swore that he'd do anything for her. It does explain why he was so distraught when she died. Remember that night, a couple weeks before James' 'proposal' to Lily, when he was drunk. You and Pettigrew thought it was because he had a fight with Lily, but he ignored me and Lily when we asked him." That distant James Potter had scared Sirius more than he was willing to ever admit – James had always been so full of life. He had been extremely happy when the old James had come back – although he had been a little more solemn, much to Lily's delight and Sirius' disapproval.
"Yes that does fit." Remus nodded and leaned back in his chair, his eyes closing for a second.
"Remus, you look like you could use some more sleep." Remus opened his eyes and studied his friend "Why don't you go rest before Poppy decides to drug you." Sirius suggested. As much as he needed his friend's support, he knew that Remus was exhausted, and it worried him to see his friend so wearied.
Nor did he want Madame Pomphrey's wraith upon him.
"In a bit Padfoot." Remus whispered looking past Sirius to where Harry lay.
They sat together in the comfortable silence of two friend who didn't need to fill in the silence.
Sirius tried to keep his eyes on both Harry and Remus. He wouldn't – couldn't lose either of them. Remus and Harry were the pillars in his life. He knew he couldn't stand losing either of them. They were his family, the only thing keeping him from going insane, from turning himself back into the Ministry just to end it all. He found it quite difficult keeping his eyes on the both of them, and he seriously wondered how Molly Weasley was able to keep an eye on all seven of her children at once, especially since it was so difficult to keep his eyes on two people – who weren't moving – at once.
"Padfoot, I'm not going to faint you know, I've had worse transformations than this one." Remus whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice, probably at seeing Sirius fidget so often trying to find the perfect spot that allowed him to watch both his son and his best friend.
Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but seeing the look on his friend's face – the 'do not argue with me' look – Sirius quickly closed his mouth. He decided the wise thing to do would be to turn his eyes back to his son, who lay beside him so still . . .
"Harry will be fine Sirius. He has a stubborn will to live and he will pull through. Look how he rose to the occasion during the tournament, no one thought he could do that . . . Or escape Voldemort a third time, hardly scathed." Remus said reassuringly, although Sirius didn't know if Remus was trying to convince himself or Sirius.
"Madame Pomphrey said he'd be fine. But he's so pale Remus, just like James and Lily were after . . .And he's been unconscious for such a long time." Sirius looked up at his friend, worry dancing in his eyes.
"If Madame Pomphrey said he's going to be fine, then I can promise you he will be." Remus sounded confident, but Sirius still refused to completely believe either of them. They had never been to Azkaban, never seen what it was like, never had to suffer under the cruel reign of the dementors. Nor had they almost lost everything important to them – Remus had almost lost everything, but not as Sirius himself had. Not to mention the fact that he had a feeling that the Dursleys' home hadn't exactly been paradise. "And Padfoot, at least now Harry won't be Voldemort's number one target anymore. And Harry never has to go back to the Dursleys."
"Nor will he ever be able to go on as Harry while Voldemort still exists. And he will still be hunted, even under a different identity. He doesn't look exactly like Lily, you know."
"At least he's safe for now." Remus, who had always been logical, pointed out.
"Safe maybe for the moment, but what about when school starts? He needs to go back, if not to learn, then to regain a certain sense of normal. And what about his happiness Remus? Will he even still be there when he wakes up? Or will he be raving mad like so many of the others. They threw a man in a cell across from me once, within the day he was absolutely nuts. Harry's just a fifteen year old kid, Moony. He should be worrying about girls and what pranks to pull, just enjoying his summer holidays." Sirius took a deep breath to calm himself down and stop himself from yelling at his friend and waking other residents of the hospital wing, although he was certain that Pomphrey had put a silencing charm around the curtain to stop any sound coming out – expect for if her patient was in trouble. "I'm sorry for snapping at you Moony, it's just that I'm worried about Harry.
"I understand Padfoot."
Silence lapsed between them once again.
"What's going to happen now Moony? Harry's never going to be able to go back to his old life. Will he still want me in his life? And what about Voldemort? Do you think he knows that Harry's alive?" Sirius suddenly blurted out, unable to remain silent. Any longer.
"Not again Padfoot!" Remus groaned rubbing his temples like he had a headache. "Of course Harry's going to still want you around. He loves you Padfoot, and trusts you. He might be angry that you kept the truth from him, but Harry will forgive you. Just explain everything to him."
Sirius decided not to argue with Remus on that point, even though inwardly he still disagreed. Harry would hate him. How could the boy not after everything that he had been through? He had never made time to tell his son, when he should have. He should have put more effort into trying to tell his son. But deep within he had been afraid – and still was – of Harry's rejection. After twelve years in Azkaban he found it hard to hope for anything, hard to believe that anything good would ever happen to him. And the fear remained strong as ever. Sirius would definitely not tell Remus that, or the werewolf would knock him over the head – or argue him into the ground.
Instead he chose, wisely, to change the topic.
"Do you think that Voldemort knows that Harry's alive? Can he feel it?" Sirius gently touched the lightening bolt scar, a memento of that terrible night – a scar that connected Harry and Voldemort. "I mean Harry can – " Sirius stopped. He could have sworn that he heard the squeak of that traitorous rat. His head spun in the direction that he had heard the noise. He didn't see a rat with a missing toe. He did not see any rats at all. His sense of smell wasn't very good as a human, but he could have sworn that he smelt a rat.
Remus didn't say a word instead he looked over to the place where Sirius was looking. Sirius could hear his friend shift subtly in the direction, as if trying to catch a whiff of the perpetrator.
"What is it Padfoot?" Remus asked after a few moments had passed.
Sirius snapped his attention back to his friend. He was about to answer that he had thought for a moment that he had heard the familiar squeak of a rat, but he quickly decided against it. Remus would know he had heard something, especially when he had paused for such a long time. Wormtail, if he had truly heard the rat, and if it hadn't been a figment of his imagination would not suspect that he thought the rat was still around, well the old Peter Pettigrew he knew wouldn't have. All he had to do was change the direction of their conversation.
"Nothing." He responded quickly, fast enough so that Remus would know that there was something going on. "I thought I heard someone coming this way, but I must have been mistaken." He looked up at Remus who nodded slightly in acknowledgement to the fact that he had sensed something as well. Now he had to change the topic of the conversation. But what could he change it to? Without revealing anything about Harry, or the goings on of Albus and those who opposed Voldemort.
"So what's been going on in Quidditch?" He asked with a faint hint of amusement in his voice that not even Remus, with all his werewolf senses would be able to catch.
Neither of them knew a thing about the goings on of Quidditch at the moment.
But they would have fun creating the news.
And it would allow them to keep eyes, and ears out for the traitor.
***************
"Do you think he knows that Harry's alive?" Sirius' voice echoed in his head. Peter stopped in the tunnel and held his breath. He was sure that was Sirius' voice, it couldn't be anything but. Slowly he inched towards the place where he had heard the voice.
"He might be angry that you kept the truth from him, but Harry will forgive you. Just explain everything to him." Remus' voice was saying.
Peter frowned – as best as he could in rat form. How could Harry be alive? The boy had been stone cold when his master had looked at him. Peter Pettigrew was sure of that. He was positive the boy had been dead. Even the Dark Lord was positive – that's why he had sent the body back to Dumbledore to frighten the foolish old man.
And what truth was Remus talking about? Sirius didn't have any secrets that would cause Harry angry – unless they were talking about their days as the Marauders and some of their adventures. But he was sure that Harry would have, by now, heard the worst – or best, depending on one's point of view – pranks and adventures. The boy wouldn't be angry at those adventures, he would probably be shocked, but not mad.
"Do you think that Voldemort (Pettigrew shivered at the name of his master, no one should speak of the Dark Lord in such a way) knows that Harry's alive? Can he feel it? I mean Harry can – " Peter squeaked at hearing that – he had never heard that before. Harry could feel the Dark Lord? How very interesting – and instantly regretted it as Sirius stopped talking. He held his breath. Even if Sirius didn't smell or hear him, Remus would. The werewolf always had keen senses, especially before or after the full moon – and today was only the second day after the full moon.
He slowly started backing away, careful not to make any noises on the hard stone as he moved. One loud noise and they would be on him so fast.
And there would be no mercy for him, who they believed to be a traitor.
He vaguely heard Sirius deny that he had heard anything, which he knew was a rouse to trick him into staying there. To make him relax and believe they did not suspect him to be there. But he would not fall for that. He would not stay around and lose his skin.
He had survived all these years, and he refused to die now.
Especially at the hands of his ex-best friends.
Once he knew that he was out of earshot of the two men he ran as if the grim reaper was after – which in a strange sense, he was. He didn't take any notice of the turns that he took, he just kept running, turning this way and that. He knew, from experience, that this was the best way to become lost, but after several years of wandering the endless tunnels in Hogwarts he had learned quite a few of the paths.
He didn't know how long it was before he stopped running, nor did he care to know at that time. But when he stopped in the eternally dark tunnels he was completely out of breath, and completely sure that any weight he had gained from the Dark Lord's frugal meals was gone.
He didn't care about that though.
He had enough information to earn him a place even greater than Malfoy's! Meals would be plenty now.
His master had seemed very interested in Black. The news alone that Black had a secret – which he hadn't told Harry that included the boy – would earn him respect amongst the Death Eaters. The respect he had lost when he had disappeared after killing the thirteen muggles and imprisoning Black. But the news that Potter still lived would – well the Dark Lord would have to give him the position as a general in the war, commander of half the army of the Dark. In addition to the news that Harry Potter could somehow 'feel' the Dark Lord, he would be the greatest Death Eater ever . . .
Peter Pettigrew smiled.
Now he had the tools to become even greater than Malfoy and nothing would stop him.
***************
End Chapter Fourteen
A/N: Sorry this chapter was so long coming. Real life has been a little hectic and I could only write for a few minutes here or there. I hope the chapter is alright, I know it isn't the best chapter, but at least it is done. The pace of the story will be picking up within the next chapter (Harry's going to wake up). If there are any mistakes or things that don't make sense, please tell me so that I can fix it now. Thanks.
Thank you so much to all who reviewed you guys encouraged me to continue to write this difficult chapter. Thank you : - )