A/N: Here is the second chapter in my story. I hope you are all enjoying it. There isn't much that happens when Harry is a baby, so there will be time jumps soon in the story. I know this makes Lily look a little like a damsel in distress, but she just lost her husband and was almost murdered. She will be dealing with some PTSD after such an occurrence.

As always, I do not own these characters. There will slowly be some original characters added in to add some flavor and fill in some blanks while Harry is in the muggle world. I will also be introducing some fan favorites as well!

Please enjoy and review!

Sirius, Lily and Harry arrived in a suburb of London. Sirius was not altogether sure where exactly. He pulled out the parchment Dumbledore had given him. It wasn't too far now. He pulled Lily close to him as they made their way down the sidewalk. The sun was starting to rise in the east, the birds were chirping, the sleepy neighborhood was starting to wake up as the day started, he heard a dog barking in the distance.

Lily was silent as she walked beside him, holding a sleeping Harry on her hip, his head on her shoulder. She looked catatonic, and she looked nothing like how Sirius felt inside. A storm of pure fury was raging inside him. He couldn't believe Dumbledore said to lay low, to not go after Pettigrew, to wait until the right time. He felt the rage starting to bubble to the surface. He had moved so swiftly from shock and despair to anger that he didn't know where to put it. He buried it down as deep as he could. Lily needed him to keep his head right now, needed him to get her safe. Her catatonia had him concerned and it further fueled his anger. He walked up to the door of a quaint little house at the end of the lane and pulled out a key and opened the door, flipping on a light just inside the door. Lily followed in beside him, still quiet. He closed the door behind her and looked around. The house was starting to brighten with the morning sun, smooth hardwood throughout made the home even warmer.

He led Lily up the stairs and into a bedroom, he sat her down on the edge of the bed, taking Harry from her arms and over to a crib he saw in the corner. He walked back over to her and pulled the sweater up over her head and set it aside. His eyes strayed to the starburst mark upon her breast above her heart. He felt a surge of fresh rage at the sight of it.

"Lily, do you want to take off your pants… or sleep in them? Sweetheart?" She didn't respond but she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, looking so small in her camisole and jeans. She shook her head as the tears started to fall. He pulled her closer to him and embraced her as her arms came around his waist. He held her for a moment before he pulled out the sleeping potion.

"Lily, please drink this, it will make you feel better, please?" She pulled away and silently took the potion from him and drank it down. She pulled her legs up onto the bed and curled into a ball and tucked the blanket up to her chin as she drifted to sleep. Sirius sat next to her for a moment, brushing the long auburn hair away from her face, before standing and making his way back down the stairs to the kitchen. The sun had fully risen now and the kitchen gleamed in the early morning light. He drummed his fingers along the counter, his mind racing with one singular thought, Peter.

He listened to the silence filling the house and then made up his mind again. He stepped out the back door and took a deep breath of the cool November air, a look of determination in his face as he set out, disapparating at the edge of the yard.

Sirius appeared outside of Peter's house, going in and looking around, some of his clothes were missing, his traveling cloak as well. He pulled out his wand and whispered a spell. A wisp of footsteps appeared, racing towards the door and out into the street, he saw the place where they stopped and the dead end. He had apparated from this spot. He swore under his breath and walked back into the house, wrenching open cupboards and drawers, searching through papers. He gave up suddenly. He knew Peter. He would be hiding in plain sight for sure. He would never hole himself up somewhere where there was no protection for him.

Now, witches and wizards were gathering all over the country and the center of London was no different. Sirius was loping down the street as a great black dog, listening, waiting and watching. Wizards were everywhere, huddled in alleys and talking in hushed, excited tones:

"The boy lived?"

"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard—"

"- yes their son, Harry–"

"Yes yes, the very same, You Know Who gone–"

Sirius wasn't surprised to hear these things, no doubt the news had spread like wildfire that Voldemort was gone, but it was as he trotted down a side street he heard what he was really interested in.

"Bloke said he was looking for the one who dunnit, turned 'em over to You Know Who–"

"He finks he can take 'im down? Sirius Black–?"

"He does indeed! Thinks he can take 'im down single handed for turnin' the Potters over ter You Know Who—"

"Find it hard to believe that! Black was such a good friend of the Potters! Makes little sense, but someone had to betray them—"

Sirius crept closer still.

"He was walkin' 'round not too far from 'ere, in that direction last I remember it—" Sirius stopped listening and raced out into the street, sniffing along the ground trying to catch a scent. He looked up abruptly and tore off into an alley and transformed back into a man and walked out into the street, spotting Peter immediately, walking just ahead of him.

He strolled casually up alongside him.

"Fancy seeing you here, Peter. Lovely morning, isn't it?" Pettigrew stiffened and attempted to make a break for it, but Sirius grabbed him by the collar as he started shouting. Peter shoved him away and started to back away from him.

"Sirius, how could you!" He pointed his finger at Sirius and Sirius froze as muggles turned to look at the commotion. "How could you, Lily and James?! They were family!" Tears were running down his face but Sirius wasn't buying it. He lifted his wand and pointed it straight into his face, a look of mania on his face, but then all hell broke loose, an explosion from behind Peter went off, blowing up half of the street. He shielded his eyes, coughing and looking around frantically, looking at the ground in front of him, a single finger lay on the ground amidst a set of bloody torn robes. The shock hit him like a ton of bricks. He was aware of commotion, of screaming and shouting, around him as he started to laugh maniacally, staring down at the finger, sinking to his knees.

Brilliant really, he thought to himself and tears from the manic laughter streamed down his face, very bloody brilliant.

He felt hands grabbing him and pulling him to his feet, he saw bodies all around and laughed even harder. The little rat. It was quite brilliant. He was dragged away, still chuckling, unable to do anything else, the helplessness of his situation was much too comical. He had never failed quite so spectacularly. He didn't think Peter had it in him. It was so simple in its brilliance. His laughter died as the aurors that had hold of him stunned him and he blacked out.

Sirius awoke in the dark, his body aching from the position he had been laying in on a damp, cold stone floor. He shivered, freezing to the bone as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could hear screams of despair from all around him. A slow realization of where he was came to him and he sank into a corner, shivering, his own despair taking over him again as he closed his eyes. A thought came to him then, maybe I deserve this. Maybe being locked away was how it was supposed to be. His guilt over the death of James fresh in his mind, the sight of his unseeing eyes swam into the front of his mind and he whimpered softly. It was his fault. He might not have been the one who betrayed them, but it was on his advice that Pettigrew was made secret keeper. It was his stupidity and thirst for revenge that brought him before Peter, wanting to strike him down that caused the death of all those people in the street. He slumped even further, head in his hands as all his transgressions bombarding him.

Lily had awoken to Harry fussing. She sat up and looked around, afternoon sun streaming in through the windows, and then went to her son, picking him up and snuggling into him. She walked from the room into the hall and stood there, listening. It was silent and still within the walls of the house. She could hear the sounds of the neighborhood outside and the hum of electricity throughout the house, but still suffocatingly silent. She walked to the other bedrooms.

"Sirius?" She opened a door to an empty bedroom and moved on to the next. "Sirius, where are you?" Empty, again. Her breath quickened as she made for the last door, a bathroom. Again, nothing. She walked down the stairs, panic setting in, her nerves fried from the past 24 hours.

Harry was still fussing, she set him in the empty living room and went to the kitchen and pulled open the icebox. There were cheese cubes and grapes which she grabbed and then opened cupboards finding crackers. Slicing everything, she placed it on a plate and brought it to Harry who picked at it. Her breath was increasing in pace again as she stared around the empty house, feeling like the walls were closing in on her, with the fear of where Sirius might be or of what might have happened to him. He left no note, nothing to tell her where he was, nothing to assuage her fear for his safety. She tried to take calming breaths and picked Harry up after he finished his snack and took him up to the bath and ran the water, cleaning him. Taking comfort in something so routine. She was just wrapping him up when she heard the front door open. Relief filled her as she made her way down the stairs again.

Sirius, she thought as she readjusted Harry in her arms, finally.

It wasn't Sirius at the door though. Instead, Albus Dumbledore shut the door softly behind him and turned to her, sadness and irritation in his wizened face.

"Where is he?" Lily demanded, defeated, mirroring that of Dumbledore. "What has happened? I can't take any more, Albus, I really can't…"

Dumbledore sighed, stepping forward and signaling Lily to follow him into the living room

"He went after Peter Pettigrew and was caught…." his voice faded into the background, his words making no sense to her. Words like "muggles" and "crossfire" and "Azkaban" registered slowly in her mind. She interrupted him suddenly as it started to sink in.

"He killed him? He killed Peter?"

"It appears that way," Dumbledore said quietly.

"When is his trial?"

"They haven't set one, Lily, the evidence is overwhelming. The death of 12 muggles and one wizard was witnessed by a whole busy London street–"

"Sirius wouldn't kill that many people, Albus. He wouldn't kill anyone! That isn't him. They aren't going to give him a trial to explain?" She could feel the panic creeping up again.

"Sirius made a rash and unplanned decision, before I could make any argument for his innocence. It all points to Sirius black murdering 13 people and betraying his friends. The ministry was already searching for him, assuming he was your Secret Keeper and that he betrayed you. If he would have just waited a few more days, Peter Pettigrew would have been in custody as a traitor and Voldemort supporter. I will work to do everything in my power to ensure he gets a trial, and a fair one. I will go and speak with him as well. Voldemort's supporters cannot know the whereabouts of you and Harry, Lily, you will need to be separated from this, yours and Harry's safety is of utmost importance. I will do what I must, I will hear him out. I must go now. Stay safe and stay inside as much as you can. There is a grocery not far from here, there is cash in here," he handed her an envelope, "I will be back to check on you in a few days. Remus will also be by to check in. You are not alone in this." Dumbledore stood and turned to her, "I will do what I can."

And he walked out the door, leaving Lily alone again.

Time passed slowly for Sirius, he didn't know what day it was, if it was even daytime. From the growth of facial hair, he assumed it had to have at least been a week, if not more. Everything hurt, mentally and physically. Dumbledore had come by, he barely remembered what he said, but that he had asked him to think of things before taking the memories from him and then leaving again. Leaving him alone in his agony.

Days passed again, perhaps weeks or even months, he was shivering uncontrollably, the dementors affect on him making him barely able to lift his head. Searching his mind for any sort of escape, he transformed into his animagus form and the relief, while imperfect, was instant. His thinking was clearer. He got shakily to his feet and paced the small space, cowering away as the dementors passed by. One thought remained in his head, he was innocent. It wasn't a happy thought, it was a conviction. Something that the dementors could not take away from him. Peter had escaped, he needed to get out and find him. It would be fair if he had actually committed the crimes he was convicted of. He found that these moments in his other form helped to organize his thoughts, keeping him sane and cognizant. He watched as people were brought in screaming, dragged into a cell and thrown there to rot, just like him. But unlike them, he had his wits, and a thought, a mantra, that the dementors couldn't take away from him. He was innocent. A plan started to form.

It was quiet, for once, except for the muttering and shuffling of the other prisoners, lost in their own world of despair. He sat and watched as the dementors passed his cell, timing it the best he could. Watched as the food was delivered. Counted the seconds between each moment that he was locked up. It was now or never. He was never going to be free. He had to do this now. As the dementors slipped open his door, he slipped out, them not noticing in his animagus form. He slipped down a hallway and then another and then another. Seeing an office to the side he slipped in. Shelves and shelves of wands lay in front of him. He looked for the number that was tattooed on him and grabbed his wand and limped out, losing precious energy from the meager food that was provided to him in his imprisonment. He made it out, somehow, through a door that he felt ought to have been shut, if not locked, and he felt an achingly cold wind tear through his fur. He ran with what little energy he had into the night, to the edge of the sad graveyard and transformed back into a man. He looked back for only a moment and then turned on the spot and was gone, the sound of his escape covered by the roaring of the wind.

Sirius landed in the backyard with a soft woosh and fell to his hands and knees, exhausted, shivering in the cold winter air. He could feel himself losing consciousness as a light shone on him.

He let the darkness take him.