And here's the continuation of A Different Story! I know, I tried to come up with a different title, but that's not really my strong suit. This chapter is shorter than the first, upsettingly, but I think it's still pretty good. I'll have the next chapter up soon.

And, once again, I don't own Harry Potter. I wish I did, but sadly, that cannot be.

Sirius sighed wearily as he hefted the child up onto his hip once again. He really didn't understand why he refused to bring the stroller with him – it'd have been so much easier.

"Oh! He's so cute! Is he yours?"

He gave the woman a drained smile, "Godfather," he said shortly, "I decided that he needed a day out on the town."

"That's so sweet," the woman cooed. She had a small brown haired two year old wobbling around behind her. Sirius felt the beginning of a head ache forming.

It wasn't because of the woman; no, he'd just met her a few seconds before. You tend to see a lot of people while trick-or-treating apparently. He probably should've known that. He'd had to approach a dozen strange houses, greet the homeowners, say that bloody catchphrase, get the candy, and go.

After the first twenty some houses, it got old.

And now here he was, his arms like lead, supporting the child in his arms, and standing in front of a young woman, maybe in her early thirties. She seemed sweet, he'll give her that. Brown ringlets falling in her chocolate colored eyes, a thin black dress on her person, and, if Sirius was correct, fangs on he teeth. She was either a vampire or pretending to be a vampire.

Sirius hoped it was the latter.

"What's he supposed to be?"

"A wizard." He answered swiftly. He glanced at the boy in his arms, a rush of affection welling up for him, no matter how much his arms hurt at the moment. Harry was dressed in one of his best wizarding robes, ones that Sirius assumed belonged to James when he had been a child. They were red – Gryffindor colors, James had boasted proudly – with a gold lining around them, successfully covering his ducky pajama's that Harry hadn't wanted to get out of. "I figured he'd like to be Merlin for the day."

She cooed at that, grasping her bushy haired child's arm before she could wobble away. "My little Greek Hermes was an angel earlier; she's only just come back."

Indeed, the girl was wearing a homemade dress (so it seemed) with a pair of golden wings on her back.

"I'm afraid she's got her fathers hair though," the woman sighed miserably. "I couldn't do anything with it."

He laughed, setting Harry down on the ground as the woman fussed with the girl's hair. The boy staggered over to the girl's side, tugging on the stand of hair that the mother was fussing with, Sirius snorted in amusement. "Br'n!"

"Good job buddy." He scooped the boy back up before the girl could hit him. "Sorry about that," he directed to the woman, as Harry pulled at Sirius' own black hair, "he has an odd fascination with hair."

"I can see that," she said, clearly entertained. "But I suppose you'd like some candy now then? I've held you up enough."

"Yeah," Sirius tried to keep the relief out of his voice as he glanced at his watch. It was nearly eight. The brown-haired woman grasped the bowl on the table beside her, one hand on her daughters shoulder, and gestured for the man to take one. "Thanks," he replied, lifting a black and red Mars Bar and placing it within his bag. "Have a Happy Halloween."

"H'ppie Hall'wen!" The young girl replied, smiling toothily, Harry attempted to copy her. The mother laughed, closing the door as he turned to walk down the street.

The head just didn't seem to want to go away…

"How 'bout we go and visit Uncle Wormtail before we head home hmm?" He asked Harry, the toddler just burrowed his face in the mans neck. "We've still got ten minutes left."

Harry didn't seem to want to move from his position, which was fine with Sirius. It'd make him easier to fly with by far.

Which was another reason he was glad that he'd decided to walk in a circle in this particular town; they'd managed to get enough candy to last them a month and by the end, they were back at the beginning, where his bike was.

And it was, thankfully, still in good shape.

…Especially after that one bloody snot-nosed brat decided that it'd be fun to play with. His eye unintentionally twitched. He'd remembered to put a notice-me-not charm on it this time when he'd park it. And he fully intended to put that charm on the bike each time.

Stepping into the alley, he looked both ways before approaching the bike, bringing the wards down wandlessly.

Harry didn't notice a thing.

Sirius shifted the boy slightly as he climbed onto the bike. He kept one hand on the child's back as he turned out of the alley, the boy had his arms wrapped around his godfather's neck as the cold air hit his back and one hand clasped a lock of the inky hair.

They were only a few minutes away from Peter's house, and Sirius had promised to check up on him anyway. He needed to be sure that everything was okay, for Peter's sake and the Potter's sake.

The cool wind blew in his face and Sirius was glad that he'd placed the warming charm on the toddler.

It wouldn't be good for anyone if Harry got a cold.

"Just a few minutes," he cooed, stealing a glance at Harry's emerald green eyes before looking back at the road. "We'll see Uncle Peter and then head back home."

But he couldn't get rid of that growing worry in his head. He felt something bubble in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't help glancing at the toddler every few seconds, as if to assure himself that he was still there, still breathing, still moving…

He sped up.

Pulling on the handle once he was sure that they were away from humanity, he flew through the air, going faster, holding the boy against his chest as he sped toward Grimsby, toward Peter…

With a lurch, he landed, the small child beginning to cry at the unpleasant sensation.

"Shh… it's okay Hare-bare." The boy didn't stop, and Sirius was vaguely surprised that Peter didn't come running out to see why Harry was here. He could be sleeping, it was a well known fact that Peter slept like a log… But at eight at night the little voice whispered cynically in his ear.

He shakily walked down the worn path, his bike left on, passing over the fallen leaves on the ground. He knocked on the door as he approached it. "Peter!" He shouted over Harry's cries, bouncing the boy to calm him down. "Peter, open up!" But nobody opened the door. The wood the only thing barricading them from inside the house, but even that was worthless as the door opened soundlessly. His unease ten-folded

"Peter?" His voice rose a pitch, glancing worriedly around the room. Nothing was out of place in his four roomed house. Each thing, right down to the parchment was deftly put back into its place.

Sirius stumbled out of the sitting room, glancing into the kitchen. No food was out, no Peter.

And a thorough search of the bedroom and bathroom led to nothing but a spotless countertop and a well-made bed.

This wasn't like Wormtail at all. He wouldn't just get up and go for a walk in these times. And even if he did, nothing would be this… spotless.

Sirius raced back outside, stumbling over the coffee table leg in his hurry.

Harry continued to cry.

"It'll be okay baby," he soothed, not slowing his pace. He applied a sticking charm to the child and reapplied the warming charm. He almost wanted to eat up his words as the child sniffled, stopping his cries to look up at him questionably. He didn't believe it one bit.

"It'll be okay," he repeated, climbing onto his bike and kicking it off into the air.

Sirius didn't know who he was trying to convince anymore. Harry or himself.