Sirius did not dare apparate with Harry, he did not know how such a traumatic journey would affect the boy's undeveloped body. Instead, he climbed aboard his motorcycle and sped off into the sky, little Harry clutching to the front of his jacket and whimpering softly, frightened by the loud noise and great height. The heavy weight in his chest seemed to grow denser with every mile they traveled, with every town put between them and Lily and James. Sirius rode towards the only place that both he and the boy would be safe and prayed that his remaining friend was unharmed. Unharmed and in a mood to forgive.

He didn't know how long the pair flew, only that, at some point, Harry had fallen asleep huddled in his Godfather's jacket, shielded from the biting wind and snoring his exhaustion away. While the child slept, Sirius wept.

He couldn't stop. Couldn't stop the regret dripping from his eyes, the misery heaving his chest, nor the terrified trembling that raked at every fiber of his being. It was exhausting torment, yet he could not rest. They deserved every ounce of strife he suffered for them.

Down below, cities and towns fell away into dense woodland pocketed with grassy fields. They were nearing their destination.

Sirius wiped his eyes to clear his vision and descended so that they puttered just above the canopy. He could see a thin plume of chimney smoke billowing slightly west of them and veered towards it, landing the bike with a spray of dirt and grass blades.

"Harry," he croaked, throat raw with exhaustion. He gently pet the sleeping boy to rouse him from his slumber.

Tired eyes riddled with sleep blinked up at him, accompanied by a squeaky yawn. "Uhm?" The boy perked up and looked around, suddenly eager and apparently wide awake. Sirius thought he must have recognized the glade after previous visits to Remus.

"I need you to..." his voice broke and Sirius coughed a few times to clear it, suddenly aware of how very tired he was. "To stay here. Just for a minute, okay? Can you do that for me?"

But Harry was already struggling to find a way off the bike. He fumbled with his unsteady feet and Sirius had to catch him when he nearly slipped. Slowly, he lowered the boy to the ground and watched him stumble unsteadily off to a cluster of glittering mushrooms and start banging them together, giggling at the gentle, bell-like ringing every-time they collided.

Sirius left him entertained, stumbling halfheartedly to Lupin's door. Before he even had the chance to knock, the door swung inwards on un-oiled hinges, revealing the concerned and yet bewildered expression of Remus Lupin. Without hesitation, Sirius dragged his remaining friend into a despairing embrace.

...

Remus lifted his head from his hands, glancing over his shoulder at Sirius's sleeping form. He sat on the floor of his humble living room, back resting against the couch on which his friend slept with the child he had supposedly 'rescued'.

He pawed at his itching eyes, inhaling deeply. Sirius had appeared at his doorstep, apologizing profusely for deeds that Remus did not find out about until a good ten minutes into their meeting. He was all worked up, ranting about misplaced trust and betrayal of friendship. Remus had been more frightened than confused at first, worrying for the spark of instability in Sirius's eyes and the unbalanced way in which he moved. It wasn't until Sirius choked through his tale of the happenings several hours previously that he understood.

And yet, well, none of it seemed real.

Lily and James had always been a part of his world, there since his early childhood days. To have them apart from the world was unthinkable. Within the coiling depths of his subconscious, the werewolf still expected to see his friends strolling up to his front door, coming to run with him under the influential light of the full moon. He still expected to receive his letter for the month regarding the antics of everyday, suburban life. He could see them Christmas day, standing hand in hand and surrounded by adoring friends. He could clearly picture Jame's mischievous smile when he would tell some awful joke. He could describe in full detail Lily's stern look, with its underlying fondness, when Sirius and her husband came home, drunk and laughing at some entertaining recollection of their school years, with Remus keeping both of them from crashing into some mirror or tripping over the stairs.

He could not see them as Sirius had described, limp and lifeless.

With a heavy sigh, he allowed his head to loll back onto Sirius's thigh, gazing at a moth perched on his ceiling. Little Harry stirred behind him, muttering something incoherent

"Mumumum," he called, lifting his head to search the room. His large eyes, wet with sleep and red around the rims, fixed on Remus and he gurgled, stretching an arm to swat at his uncle's face. Remus gently took the boy's hand to protect himself from have an eye swiped out and nosed him gently on the forehead, bringing forth a complaining giggle.
Harry seemed eager to be off the couch, using Remus as a climbing frame to get himself to the floor. Remus held back assistance until it seemed the complexity of climbing was going to bring forth too much frustration and he helped the child to the ground.

Eagerly, Harry began crawling off, constantly with calls of "Mumumum," and "Daaaa."

It wasn't long before the calls grew panicked.

Harry began to cry.

Heart in his throat, Remus stalked off to attempt to sooth the child.

...

Morning found Remus slumped in the corner of his kitchen, his toes under vicious attack from a one-year-old infant. He stirred and strained to lift his eyelids, which seemed to weigh at least thrice their usual burden. Harry sat with his legs sprawled to either side while he battered and swatted at the lower leg of his uncle. Remus lifted his head from against the unforgiving kitchen cupboard, suddenly aware of the contorted, uncomfortable angle of his body. His stiffed muscles groaned their complaints and he stretched painfully to ease them.

Harry had apparently become bored with his uncle in waking and had crawled off eagerly to find something else worth his attention.

Remus rubbed the hair from his face and wandered into the living room, intent on waking Sirius and discussing how they were going to deal with the kidnapped boy.

Only he found it empty. All that remained to indicate Sirius had ever been there was a torn sheet of paper, scrawled handwriting glaring innocently up at Remus.