Third chapter up! I hope you enjoy, read and review and all that good stuff. And thank you to all my reviewers! I'm glad you like the story! I'll try to get the next chapter up soon!
And I don't own Harry Potter.
"Merlin, no!" His voice caught in the back of his throat, watching the green haze slither in the distance. Horror unfolded in his gut as he descended his bike. "No!"
The motorbike landed roughly on the ground, causing the slumbering child to shift in his sleep.
Sirius took no notice to this as he sped down the road.
The home that he approached looked no worse for wear as he parked outside the gates, it looked just as it usually did, right down to the very last flower that Lily had insisted that James help care for. But it was enveloped in a green haze, a snake slithering within a skull, looking every inch as a toxic cloud.
His breath hitched.
They had to be alright. They just had to be. James had promised, he'd told him that he'd stay, that they'd stick together till the end.
This couldn't happen.
It wasn't allowed.
He slid off the bike, sprinting toward the house as he left his bike running. It didn't matter anymore. He was worrying over nothing, imagining things, hallucinating. He'll open the door and James would be laughing his ass off, as Lily attempted to maim him for bringing her baby home late. Both would be dressed in their pajamas, the worry sliding off their face as Sirius walked in the door–
But it wasn't going to happen. He was fooling himself, but…
He slid the door open. James laid there, glassy eyes staring skyward. It looked as though he was only star gazing, just like they used to do when they were young. The four of them had sat in the Forest, the Forbidden making all that more sweet, to watch the stars; more than once they'd attempted to join the centaurs, thought it'd be funny.
But James didn't blink, he didn't turn to laugh at some stupid UFO he was so fond of saying he found. He just lay there, head facing skywards, arms apart, his one leg twisted at an odd angle.
Fear flooded his senses, "James," he wasn't allowed to be dead, "James," he wasn't allowed to die, "James," he wasn't allowed to leave Sirius alone like this.
He stumbled forward, staring, not really seeing, Harry clutched tightly to his chest.
Shaking hands moved forward toward the mans neck. Sirius left them there, hoping, praying, but nothing happening; no pulse, no squealing that it was ticklish, nothing…
"No." Sirius' breathing accelerated, he'd wake up soon, knocked out from when Lily whacked him upside the head for even suggesting that he take her little baby out in the cold, dark, night… Lily…
If anything, Lily was smart enough. James wouldn't have died if he wasn't sure that Lily was safe.
Sirius just hoped that the numbness wouldn't leave.
He took careful steps away from his friend's glassy eyes, if he didn't see it, it wasn't there. If he didn't witness anything, he'd be perfectly fine in a few minutes.
Yeah, that was it.
He climbed the steps slowly, his mind whirling, but not thinking. No, it would hurt to think. Lily would think for him, she'd always said that she'd make all the decisions, she'd decide – she didn't trust his judgment, she'd said; time and time again, she'd told him that.
And she would tell him again. Tell him he was stupid, that James was fine… sleeping, only sleeping…
The house was too quiet.
"Lily," he whispered. It seemed as though the walls made his voice echo in the hallway. The stairs stood behind him, the photos lined the walls around him, and the door that led to the nursery was thrown open, a large crack down the center. As if he didn't care who died.
Sirius glanced down at the sleeping child. He held him close, horrified, mystified, and took a step into the little boy's room.
It looked nearly exactly how it always looked besides the door. The stars were shining in the ceiling, hiding the inky green haze that covered the rest of the house, they were Harry's nightlights. Lily thought them adorable. And his favorite toys were lined up on his dresser, the rest stashed in the toy box by his crib.
But now the small white crib was charred, the door broken in two, his dresser drawers thrown open in a haste, clothing hanging out, and Lily, poor little Lily flower, lay in front of the crib. Her hair looked like spilt blood, her green eyes just as glassy as her husbands, and her wand lay on the ground a few feet away.
Sirius couldn't take his eyes off her, reality starting to creep in on the numbness, the blindness that curled around his senses, and he held onto it, just a little longer…
He walked around her, an odd foreboding made him lean to look into the crib, Harry clutched tight to his chest. His breath caught in his throat.
If he hadn't been holding Harry at the moment… A doll lay in where Harry usually slept. It was transfigured hastily, a mess of inky hair, green eyes, just a quick, none too good, transfiguration. But Harry's favorite blanky was thrown back, burnt at the edges, a large charred hole in the middle, obscuring the inscription that Lily's mother had written as soon as Harry was born. The doll itself had a charred scab above its eerily green eye. Several slash marks marred its surface before–
Sirius stumbled back. It turned, facing him, a jarring expression on the twisted face of his godson. Its green eyes blinked, its mouth curved, and Sirius felt the need to run. "You're next."
He turned and dashed out the house, horror enveloping him. James, Lily, little Harry…
He grasped his godson tightly, leaping out of the house, not turning back, not wanting to see those glassy eyes again, not wanting to see that bloody hair, his godsons, Harry's…
Leaping onto the bike, he revved it up, leaving. He couldn't stay here. They'd be back. And he'll be damned if he let them take Harry from him, if he let them kill either of them…
And Peter, little, innocent Peter… Anger surged up through him. Peter would pay. Sooner or later, Peter would pay.
Now, it was only a matter of leaving.