Sirius had been around Harry for a few months now and he was an integral part of Harry's life. He had even managed to sneak into Harry's cupboard on a number of occasions, to both Harry's and his delight. The only problem was that he was getting impatient. Although he enjoyed being around Harry, making friends with him, watching him grow and protecting him from harm, he wanted to make friends with Harry, properly make friends. Not just a boy and dog friendship. Sirius had been battling with himself for quite sometime, should he reveal himself? Would the sight of his trusted companion turning into a man scare him off? And, the question that he wrestled most of all, should he attempt to take Harry away with him? He knew Harry was safe here, he had felt all sorts of protective spells around Harry that were linked with this house, this family. Sirius longed to whisk Harry away from his oppressive family, teach him about the wizarding world and his parents. Help him grow as the father figure Sirius longed to be, but Harry, although miserable, was safe here. That was the great problem he was battling with, the one thing that he was going over and over in his mind. If he took him away he would put Harry in danger from all sorts of things. It wouldn't be an easy life, it would be a life on the run, hard and difficult, with little food or comfort. Sirius eventually decided to show Harry his true self. If Harry wanted to stay here, he would be contented to stay his friend. If Harry wanted to run away with him, he would be ecstatic. If Harry rejected him Sirius knew he wouldn't cope, but he was prepared to take that risk.
One fairly ordinary day Harry was playing with Padfoot when he beckoned Harry to follow him. They had worked out a fairly complex sign language over the months and Harry immediately understood. Harry followed. Padfoot took him into the woods, further away from the Durleys than they had ever been before without permission, when he stopped abruptly, and sniffed the air, checking for any other people. He then turned to Harry, seeming apprehensive, if it was possible for a dog to be apprehensive, signalled to Harry to stay still and started to change. Harry's instinctive reaction was to jump back, run away from whatever was happening, but, as he was sprawled on the woodland ground, he paused in his desperate attempt to escape and began to watch out of a morbid fascination. Soon, a man stood before him. He had shoulder length hair, which looked like it had been cut with a pair of kitchen scissors, as Harry's often was. He wore mismatching clothes, a long, oversized, pinstriped jacket which billowed about him, a black shirt, some tatty jeans and boots. Harry couldn't help but notice that he, for a man, looked extraordinarily like a dog. He looked at Harry with a nervous air, awaiting his approval or rejection.
"A - are – are you ... Padfoot?" he asked the man and the man, Padfoot, nodded, watching him closely.
"I can explain," said Padfoot, in a hoarse voice that sounded like it hadn't been used in a long time.
"Go on then," replied Harry, thinking that if Padfoot managed to explain that then anything was possible.
"I'm a wizard and I'm an Animagus, that means I can turn into a dog when I want to," replied Padfoot, "you're a wizard too, Harry, but you've been living among Muggles, that's our name for non magic people," he stopped, Harry had started to shake his head, disbelieving.
"No no, I'm not, I - I can't be. If I was a wizard then Dudley and his gang wouldn't bully me, I'd just ... just magic them away or something. You've got the wrong person," Padfoot, to his surprise, laughed.
"That'd be some pretty advanced magic, but, just think. Has nothing ever happened when you were angry or scared. Like the time the kitchen blew up. Something you couldn't explain, something the Dursleys punished you for even though you were sure it couldn't be your fault," at this Harry jerked up.
"They know?" Padfoot nodded, "All this time and they didn't tell me? Why?"
"They're a rotten lot, the folks you live with. If I had my way you wouldn't be with them at all. Your mum was a witch born to a family of Muggles, it happens sometimes, we call them Muggle-borns. Some people," at this his face darkened, and his voice was bitter, "some people think that Muggle-borns are somehow inferior to them and call them Mudbloods, but don't you go listening to them. They're the biggest idiots you'll ever come across, and that includes Dudley. Lily was one of the most extraordinarily gifted witches I've ever come across, and one of the kindest people I've ever had the fortune to meet. Anyway, your mum was a Muggle-born and her sister, your aunt decided she was a freak, so they fell out. That's why she hates you. Your mum went to the wizard school called Hogwarts and that's where she met your dad," Padfoot grinned, "he was my best friend and partner in crime, was James, we were like brothers. He was the greatest man I ever knew. You're are like him in so many ways, and believe me, that's the highest compliment I can give you. Anyway, we left school and there was a war. There was one wizard, he was evil, more than. He was gathering followers and taking over everywhere. We decided we had to fight, your mum and dad, me and a couple of other friends. I'll tell you about them later. Then … then there was this … the wizard decided to ... kill them. No one survived once he decided to kill them, no matter the protections. We tried, but we … I … failed," there were tears in Padfoot's eyes, "no one except you, that is, no one knows why. That night something about you stopped him, the curse that was meant to kill you rebounded on Voldemort, that's evil wizard's name, though most people don't like it if you say it, and no one's heard or seen him since. Every now and again there'll be a rumour that he's in Albania or something but that's all. Some say he died, but that's just wishful thinking, he's out there, barely alive. That's how you got that scar of yours. You and that scar are famous in our world. I expect that Dumbledore, that's the Hogwarts headmaster, and the greatest headmaster there has ever been, has a few ideas, on how you survived and what happened to Voldemort. He usually knows more than the rest of us, but he keeps that information to himself."
Padfoot took a great, rattling breath and was obviously trying to reign in tears. He gave Harry a watery smile as Harry struggled to take everything in, "And so to me. Padfoot isn't my real name, it's just a nickname I had at school. It's a long story, I'll tell you it sometime. My real name is Sirius Black. Like I said, I was you dad's best friend, I was best man at your mum and dad's wedding and I'm your godfather, if you'll have me. Anyway, I was framed for betraying your parents to Voldemort, and murdering a bunch of people. Muggles mostly, but I was framed, it wasn't me," he looked at Harry desperately, "you do believe me?" Harry nodded, after all, if he couldn't trust Padfoot who could he trust? "The man who really betrayed your parents was another old school friend and his name is Peter Pettigrew. Most people think I killed him, I wish I had, the little rat. Anyway I escaped from Azkaban, that's the wizard prison, and I'm on the run. I had to see you Harry."
"You escaped from prison just to see me?" asked Harry, amazed, Sirius chuckled.
"Yeah," Sirius hesitated, then he said, very quickly, "I was wondering, I mean I'd understand if you didn't, I wasn't planning to, but it'd be wonderful if you did, obviously," he took a deep breath, "I was wondering if maybe you might want to come live with me?" Harry jumped up.
"Are you kidding? Of course I want to live with you, I hate it here, you know I hate it here. Have you got a house? When can I move in?" Sirius suddenly looked very serious.
"It wouldn't be an easy life Harry, I told you, I'm on the run. It would dangerous and difficult. Also, you're safe here, whilst you are with the Dursleys it would literally be impossible for anybody to harm you. I need you to be sure."
"Of course I'm sure," replied Harry, "besides, you're my godfather, that means you have more of a right to look after me than the Dursleys do, and anyway," he grinned, "what's life without a little risk?" Sirius grinned back.
"You know James would have said the exact same thing. I don't know if anyone's ever told you Harry, but you look so much like James, except for your eyes, you have Lily's eyes."
Their discussion continued for hours, but they barely noticed the time passing. Sirius told Harry of the Marauders and of how it all started, after getting Harry to swear never to tell another living soul. Harry readily agreed, after all, even if he wanted to, who would he tell? Sirius eagerly listened Harry's tales of his silent rebellion against the Dursleys and proudly pronounced Harry a fine Marauder in the making. Harry had swelled with pride and asked whether that meant he got to learn how to change into an animal, Sirius had laughed and said that Harry was aiming high, that would come later, and besides, they had only managed it in their fifth year. Harry had pouted and so Sirius promised to buy him a broomstick.
Harry was given a sharp whack when he eventually arrived back to the Dursley's and was sent straight to the cupboard with no food but he didn't care. He had Sirius, he had someone who cared for him, someone who loved him and he had the hope for a better future. Harry drifted off to sleep, his head filled with dreams of the wizard world, of Diagon Alley and Hogwarts. He dreamed of spells, flying and Quidditch. He dreamed of adventures with werewolves and of his parents.
Professor Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and popped a lemon sherbet into his mouth. Sirius Black hadn't been sighted in quite some time and Dumbledore felt sure that if he was planning something he would have attempted it by now, nevertheless it was always good practice to remain vigilant, as Alastor had reminded him the other day when he had suggested the possibility of lowering the defences. Alastor had given him quite a stern lecture and Dumbledore felt every bit the naughty pupil, it was a feeling he hadn't had in a long time and he had quite enjoyed. Nevertheless, Dumbledore conceded, he had a point, even if Alastor was a touch paranoid.
Dumbledore had kept in constant contact with all of Black's old friends and allies on the off chance that he might come to them for help. A few months back, when he had just escaped, Remus had reported that he had seen him, but that he had probably just imagined it. Dumbledore had agreed with him, but Remus' manner had alerted him to a much deeper problem. Remus never put forward and opinion unless he was entirely sure of it and was always in complete control of his emotions, both traits a result of living with his condition. So to see Remus as he had appeared that day, distracted, near collapse and unsure of what he had seen had distressed Dumbledore greatly. Remus had taken so long to get over Sirius betrayal, and Dumbledore didn't think that he had ever truly recovered. Now Sirius' escape had brought up all those old feelings in Remus. Dumbledore had made sure he visited Remus regularly after that and slowly he had pieced himself back together. If Dumbledore had retained any of his fond feelings for Sirius they were now completely crushed. Sirius had destroyed his friends so completely Dumbledore could feel nothing but anger towards him.
On the positive side, he was sure that Sirius couldn't get near Harry. He had checked regularly to see if Lily's sacrifice was still protecting Harry, and was pleased to see that it was, not that he had expected any different. If he was right, and he usually was, Harry would be protected until his seventeenth birthday. Nothing that wanted to seriously harm Harry could get near him. He had refrained from checking on Harry himself, but merely assured himself that Harry was alive and well enough, for fear that he might be tempted to take the boy away with him. If Dumbledore had checked up on Harry personally he might have noticed a certain big black dog that had made firm friends with Harry, but he didn't, so he remained unaware of Sirius and Harry's friendship, and of their plans to run away.