When the war took all that he knew, Sirius became a husk. A husk that purely existed to live, live for Remus, live for… he couldn't remember what else. When Peter had been made the secret keeper a gut feeling in Sirius told him that this was wrong, that he should have been made the secret keeper instead. But the war had separated them more than Sirius would have liked to admit at the time. Doubts poisoned the well of friendship and James drank from the well. He thought that Sirius loyalties didn't lie with the Order anymore, simply because of the house that he was now thrown from. So harmless, harmless little Peter had been made the secret keeper.
How wrong they had all been.
Sirius' bike had just been finished and he had been flying towards Grimmauld place when his gut wrenched, something was wrong. Something to do with the Potters. Although the Fidelius charm was the best charm that they could use to protect the Potters and their new child, Sirius had placed upon his own powerful wards on the house; the Black house was notable for its wards after all.
Even though the wards belonged to the Potters, Sirius would still be able to feel if they had been broken, and that day as he was flying through the clouds, his head feeling clearer than it had in months, the sudden loss of the wards that coated his magic thrummed through him.
Sirius paused in midair. Had he really felt the wards break, wards that even Dumbledore approved of? Sirius pressed on the throttle and went as fast as his bike could manage, his heart racing with terror and anticipation, his mind reeling with doubts and fears.
By the time Sirius made it to Godric Hollow, he could see the house that he knew he shouldn't be able to see—the Fidelius charm had been broken, the Potters were dead. Sirius landed not even bothering for a smooth landing, the door was no longer, busted open with a spell. Sirius dreaded what he knew he was about to see. Perhaps he could stop here. He didn't have to know. He could run away and never return.
Then crying echoed down the stairs. Sirius, empty of breath, thudded up them and nearly ran into the body of James, protecting the door to his son's nursery. A violent sob burst out of him. Sirius leaned down over James' body, his face so usually full of laughter and mischief. A face that led him into hidden corridors at Hogwarts, a face that could tell a thousand stories at once, a face that could make you want to die for this man in a heartbeat. Now that face was devoid of anything. A face that used to belong to the man that Sirius called his best friend, his brother, said nothing.
"Oh James, I'm so sorry," Sirius choked out. With shaking hands he brushed his fingertips gently over James eyelids and closed them, but forever he knew he would always see those empty hazel eyes burned into his memories. The crying still echoed from the nursery and Sirius had to step over James' body to get into the room. He pushed open the door and a fresh wave of tears burst through. Lily's body lay next to Harry; even through death she protected him. Her face had been frozen into one that he saw so often throughout the war, a face that said she was ready to do anything possible to protect her family and the ones she loved. That face that said it would be okay, for she was here now.
Harry wiggled in her arms, his cheeks flushed red with the rivers of tears that he was crying, Sirius gently released Harry from the tomb of Lily's arms and rocked him in his own. When Remus arrived, everything within him broke. The walls that usually held so much love felt suffocating, Remus' broken face of agony carved a scar along his heart. Remus stepped towards Sirius, his face so riddled with a grief that he hadnt seen on him since the day that Marlene and her family was murdered and leaned down to close the eyes of Lilys.
Sirius from that day onward vouched to protect Harry, protect him like his parents would've wanted him to. When Dumbledore asked to take Harry, let his mother's last act of love protect him forever, Sirius denied it. Moody stepped forward ready to intervene if he had to, but Remus pressed his wand against his throat and Moody had no choice but to step down.
"He's staying with us, Dumbledore, I'm not letting some muggle family raise him." Sirius pressed the infant tighter to his body. Harry had calmed down now and was sleeping soundly in his arms.
"You're grieving Sirius, let me take the child to a family that can protect him." Dumbledore looked down to Harry and his eyes darkened; darkened with ambition, an ambition that Sirius didn't want Harry to become.
"Just because we are in times of war doesn't mean we are in times of lawlessness. If you want Harry, get a lawyer," Remus spoke up, and suddenly Sirius was in love with him all over again.
Remus picked up his bike and, with a disappointed Dumbledore and silently observing Moody, Sirius and Remus flew off into the sky, Harry pressed tightly against Remus' shirt. They were going home.
When the war ended with the death of James and Lily and the myth of Harry becoming the Boy Who Lived, Sirius and Remus had no idea what they were going to do. Neither had any parenting ability whatsoever. Remus grew up with a father who abandoned him and a mother who was barely home, and Sirius… well Sirius grew up in the Black house and was sorted into Gryffindor, that said enough.
When the lawyer showed up on their doorstep, Remus instantly sent him away with the number of their own. They were going to fight for Harry with every tooth and nail that they had. When the courts ruled Sirius the new guardian, Sirius stuck the bird up at Dumbledore and waltzed out of the room, Harry watched along with his infant eyes, clipped in a baby carrier on Remus's chest. Remus apologised for him, but that victory smile still stayed on his face as they walked out of the courtroom.
Time grew on and Harry grew up, Sirius and Remus experienced his first words, his first steps, his first fall, his first heartbreak (a little girl from his kindergarten who rejected his flower). Of course there were stumbles of their own, such as how does one potty train a kid, what do you do to keep a fever down? Molly was an angel sent down from heaven during those times.
When Sirius had to go back to work and had to begin to provide for Harry and Remus, he worried that he wouldn't be able to handle the pressure, but soon he found work to be a fulfilling job that he never expected it to be. A job where he could make a change in the world where the war had destroyed so much, that money that was collecting dust in the vaults could finally be put to good use.
Charities began in his name, business opportunities grew, investments were made and soon the name of Black was beginning to be seen as a name beyond its dark arts affiliations.
Sirius proposed to Remus on the day that they had first met, on the day when he fell in love. The sunset washed over the clothes lines with clothes swaying in the soft breeze, the small lights that he and Harry had hung together twinkled with the stars beginning to shine through the embers of the dusk. Sirius cried, how was he not supposed to? Remus took the ring with such gentle hands and kissed him so ferociously that Sirius questioned himself all over again as to how he had gained such a man as his lifetime partner.
When Harry jumped into their arms, the five year old also crying they all huddled together, tears mingling with the cooling night air, everything felt okay again.
The wedding was held in Molly's backyard—she had insisted—and Sirius couldn't have thanked her enough. Molly walked Remus down the aisle with tears brimming in his eyes. Arthur had offered to be a groomsman but no-one was beside Sirius nor Remus as they stood side by side. However, everyone knew that James stood next to Sirius with that mischievous but proud grin on his face and Lily stood next to Remus, her tender smile lighting up the room. They were there with them in their hearts and that's all that mattered.
Their vows were quick but heartfelt and Harry kept telling everyone he knew that Uncle Remus and Uncle Padfoot were married now, that same proud smile of his father's plastered on his face. Their honeymoon they spent at home, for Harry was their home now and being all together was the only place of happiness they needed.
The years went by, the domesticity of family life quickly wrapped them in blankets of warmth and forgetfulness, and by the time that Harry had left the station towards Hogwarts, Sirius was reminded.
That Harry wasn't just his son. He was the boy who lived.