A/N Hello everyone! I'm sure that many of you are just thoroughly disgusted with my lack of updates recently. I have not abandoned the story. A few weeks ago we sold our business and moved out of state. While it was something that we had wanted to do for quite some time, it was a very lengthy and time consuming project and I just didn't have the ability to give any real attention to writing. It took quite a while to unpack and get settled into the new house and it was ridiculously problematic getting the Internet hooked up. I've been going absolutely crazy! With the holidays going on and a flu that would just not go away, it felt like I would never get back to it.
But, here we are. I hope that those of you that are still with me enjoy the new chapter and now that things are getting relatively back to normal, I'll be able to update much more frequently.
Thanks to everyone who messaged me and let me know that my return would be welcome!
*****************
Although mere seconds had passed, it felt like an eternity to Sirius and Harry as they each stared at the other.
Sirius desperately wanted to get Harry, not only out of the antechamber, but out of the castle completely before this whole situation took on an even deadlier tone that it already had.
Every fibre of his being left him unable and wholly unwilling to trust anyone, especially the assorted few gathered behind them. With his back to a group of potential enemies, any of whom could have been the mastermind behind tonight's fiasco, he raised himself to his full height, ever so imperceptibly spreading his arms at his sides in defense of the boy standing in front of him. There was no mistaking the implication of just who they would have to go through to get to Harry.
But even as he maintained his defensive stance, his wand at the ready, cat-like reflexes tensed for any sudden threatening movement, his eyes pleaded with the boy's for understanding. His beloved child stood in front of him, posture slumped, pained pools of emerald green poised to undo Sirius completely in their devastation. He would have done anything, anything at all to keep that kind of look off of Harry's face, and here he was, the one that had caused it, and the knowledge that he wasn't planning on rectifying the reason gutted him.
"Sirius...please..."
Harry was blinking back tears, even as every muscle in his body was tensed with emotion. Sirius swore softly under his breath, convinced that he could actually hear the audible confirmation of his boy's heart shattering. He knew that if he did this, Harry was unlikely to ever forgive him for it.
"Harry, obey me, please. Go and pack your things. I'll be there directly to collect you," he instructed in a voice that sounded significantly more firm than he was currently feeling.
"This is nonsense, Mr. Black. The rules are very clear. The boy's name was pulled out of the Goblet. He must compete."
At the sound of Bartemius Crouch's pompous pronouncement, Sirius whirled around in a fit and threw a glare so intense in heat at the man, that everyone in the room was surprised when Crouch did not spontaneously combust.
"My godson must do whatever I decide he is to do, Mister Crouch," Sirius seethed, his tone so deadly that it dripped poison.
Crouch shrunk back ever so slightly, the sight of the significantly taller and monumentally enraged wizard annihilating any shred of self preservation that he possessed. Sirius advanced upon him, like a predator stalking his prey and, for half a heartbeat, Harry forgot his own miserable predicament and worried for an appearance of Padfoot. His godfather definitely had the look in his eye that decreed it all too possible.
"I am well aware of your willingness to send innocent young wizards to fates that they do not deserve, Mr. Crouch," Sirius hissed, not so subtly reminding everyone of Crouch's prominent role in his own false imprisonment, "but, I assure you, that my godson will not be a lamb sent to slaughter solely because you are incapable of seeing anything further than the end of your own nose."
An uncomfortable hush fell on the antechamber as the assembled viewed the confrontation, more than one hand firmly gripping the wands in their possession. The room crackled with electricity and only Dumbledore was attuned enough to see the slight lifting of Sirius' hair from his shoulders, as if a light breeze was hitting him, all too clearly recognizing it as the black winged precursor of a magical explosion.
"Sirius, please," Albus spoke gently, "you are not the only one worried about young Harry's safety."
Sirius didn't take his eyes off of Crouch, even as his lips twisted into a grim spectre of a smirk.
"Albus, the only thing Mr. Crouch has to worry about is covering his own hide once I put the full weight of the House of Black behind an inquiry on how something like this could even happen. Too long have the actions of this man gone unchecked, and I refuse to have Harry embroiled in anything he has a hand in."
Crouch's eyes popped wide in their sockets at Sirius' words. Completely affronted, he raised his wand hand to respond, only to be held back by strong grip on his sleeve. Turning, he saw the stern look of Minerva McGonagall dressing him down as if he were once again a student.
"I wouldn't, if I were you, Barty," she advised in her no-nonsense voice.
Sirius had had enough. Precious moments were slipping by and he was still no closer to getting his godson home under the safe protection of Celestial Court.
"We're done here," he announced, spinning back around to face Harry. "Now, Harry James. I promise that you do not want to test me on this."
Harry held his godfather's stare for another second before storming out of the antechamber, slamming the door behind him. The cacophony of rising voices from the chamber clearly echoing against the walls of the Great Hall as he stomped down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables.
He strode determinedly forward, noticing neither the accusing hissing coming from the Slytherins and the normally affable Hufflepuffs, nor the incredulous rapid fire questioning from his fellow Gryffindors. He barely even had any sense of his two best friends hurriedly nipping at his heels as he stomped towards Gryffindor tower, both extremely concerned by his silence and his positively magenta face.
Stomping up the tower stairs to his dormitory, Harry practically caught Hermione in the face with the heavy oak door, even as Ron took the inopportune time to once again gripe about the double standard of girls being allowed in the boys dorm, but not vice versa. Both stood shell-shocked as they watched Harry begin to fling books and clothes into his trunk with vicious force.
"Harry? What happened? What are you doing?" Hermione asked worriedly. She was struggling to keep her tone gentle, so as not to provoke an obviously furious Harry even further, but his actions were genuinely frightening them and the slight waver in her voice betrayed this. Harry kept his back to them, working feverishly and managing to drop a full bottle of ink on the floor in the process.
"Harry?" she tried again, even softer when no response was forthcoming.
They watched as Harry's shoulders suddenly slumped and he hung his head, letting the button down in his hand fall to the bed. Hermione cautiously walked closer to him and reached out a tentative hand. When he didn't flinch from the impending contact, she took the initiative to intertwine her fingers with those of his right hand, giving him a supportive nudge.
"Sirius is pulling me out of school," he answered after a fashion, not failing to notice neither the sharp intake of breath from Hermione nor the protesting squeak from Ron. "He says that I'm in danger from whoever put my name in the goblet and I would be safer at home."
Hermione clucked her tongue in sympathy as she sidled up closer to Harry, gripping even tighter to his hand. From behind them, Ron stood with a mask of confusion on his face.
"So...you didn't do it yourself, then?" he asked incredulously. The idea of participating in the tournament so enticing, that the thought of Harry not entering himself in it was a bit hard to grasp for the redhead.
Harry threw daggers at him, his face flushing in another bloom of anger, but paling in comparison to Hermione's agitation at her oft clueless boyfriend.
"Ronald, honestly!" she snapped. "Harry knows better than to do something so monumentally stupid. Haven't you listened to Sirius at all when he talks about the tournament?"
Cowed by the furiousness of his girlfriend that rivaled any redheaded Weasley woman, Ron choked for a second before sputtering a quiet "Yeah, alright."
Hermione gently pulled Harry down to sit on his bed next to her, Ron joining them and putting a supportive arm around Harry's shoulders. The trio sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Harry could find his voice again.
"It's not fair," he whispered quietly. "I didn't do anything wrong. I shouldn't have to leave school when it wasn't my fault."
"Maybe Sirius will change his mind," Ron suggested in what he hoped was a cheery voice. "He won't want to keep you out of school forever."
Harry lifted his head long enough to throw Ron a baleful look and then returned his attention to the floor. His godfather certainly would keep him away from Hogwarts permanently if he thought that Harry was endangered there.
Hermione and Ron tried to comfort their friend as best as they could, but just a few minutes later, there was a sharp rap on the door preceding Sirius' determined arrival into the dorm room. Seeing his godfather enter, Harry jumped to his feet and resumed pitching his possessions in the trunk.
"I'm going, I'm going," he spat out, unconcerned for the sharpness of his tone with his godfather. He may not have the courage to defy the man, but no one said that he had to make it easy on him either.
Sirius chose to ignore his godson's blatant disrespect. Under the present circumstances, Harry's attitude was far down on the list of his priorities. What's more, he didn't really blame the boy for being upset.
"Ron, Hermione, could you excuse us, please? I need to speak to Harry in private," Sirius asked quietly.
The two friends looked first to Sirius and then to Harry, uncomfortable about leaving their best mate alone at a time like this. When Harry finally nodded his assent at them, they moved to the door, but took a few long seconds to do it, finally shutting the door behind them.
Harry resumed his hostile packing practices, unable to see the pained expression on his godfather's face. When Sirius couldn't take it anymore, he reached out and gently grasped Harry's arm.
"Harry, stop," he pleaded, his voice cracking. When Harry stilled his movements and turned to face him, Sirius had to choke back a hitch in his throat at the look of despondency on the boy's face. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled Harry into his chest and wrapped his arms around him, relieved when his godson didn't resist the embrace.
Harry buried his face into the crook of Sirius' neck. His anger at his godfather wasn't soothing the fury he felt at the situation, but the warm hug he found himself in reminded him of how much Sirius genuinely loved him, effectively taking the wind out of his sails. He slumped against Sirius' chest, content to stay there for a few minutes while he let his blood cool.
Sirius anxiously pressed his face into the top of Harry's black mop of hair. He would do what he needed to do to protect his boy, but his heart would be shattered beyond mending if he lost Harry's love in the process.
"I don't want to have to do this, little one," he said, his voice pleading for understanding. He held his breath, feeling Harry stiffen in his arms briefly before relaxing again.
"I know, Sirius," Harry whispered. "It's just that Hogwarts was my first real home. I don't want to leave it. Before you, all of my happy memories are of being here."
The words hit Sirius like a kick to the stomach. He knew exactly how Harry felt. It had been the same for him as a boy and he felt like the world's biggest heel. If anyone had tried to take Sirius away from Hogwarts and his friends, he knew he would not have taken it quietly.
The fact that his godson was clinging to him like a lifeline, even as he was depriving him of the one constant comfort the boy had ever had, was practically enough to bring him to his knees. He gripped Harry tighter and brushed a kiss across the top of his head.
"I just want to get you home safe, Harry," he whispered. "I promise that we'll sort all of this out."
He pulled back a little and tipped Harry's face up to his own, trying not to crumble when he took in the sight of the unshed tears in his godson's eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly.
Harry nodded, pulling in a jagged breath of air. "Yes, sir."
Sirius released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding as he gave Harry another fierce embrace before pulling back again. "Don't fuss with your things now. We'll worry about them later. Just put your cloak on. It's been a long night and I think it's time to go."
Reluctantly, Harry nodded and obeyed. Sighing in resignation, he threw a sorrowful look around the room that he had called home since he was eleven and allowed Sirius to put an arm around his shoulders. Sirius led him gently down the stairs and into the common room where Ron and Hermione were pacing like expectant parents. If the situation hadn't been so sad and ugly, Sirius would have laughed.
Both of their faces fell when they saw that Harry was dressed for travel, but Sirius hurried to assure them, mindful of the fact that his godson would most likely be unable to do so himself.
"I'm not taking him away from the two of you," he said kindly. "We'll figure something out."
Ron stood gobsmacked, and it was Hermione that squared her shoulders and rose to the occasion. "Then we won't say goodbye," she stated firmly and the forcefulness of her tone made Harry smile in appreciation. Words failing miserably, he just gave them a quick nod before allowing Sirius to guide him out of the tower.
Moments later, they had apparated home.
***********
Sirius stirred fretfully in his chair in the study. The large tumbler of firewhiskey in his left hand remained largely untouched, providing little but cold comfort tonight. Harry was upstairs in his room, having gone directly there upon their arrival at Celestial Court. Swirling the contents of the crystal glass enough to make the cubes of ice clink against the sides, he leaned back against the padded silk, feeling ten times his actual age.
Earlier, he had floo'ed Remus and explained the events of the day. His old friend had immediately offered to come over, but Sirius had declined. He would be poor company this evening. Not that Remus needed to be entertained, but Sirius just wanted to wallow in his own solitude for a while.
Harry had been disquietingly accepting of the whole situation and that fact above others pained Sirius greatly. While dealing with a protesting and defiant godson might have been more challenging, he thought that he almost might prefer it to the sad, resigned child that he had upstairs now. Just one more thing that Harry was being deprived of, just because of who he was.
The spectre of Voldemort and all of his ilk continued to destroy Harry's life long after his attack on him as an infant.
The question was, how long could he continue to keep his godson under lock and key? Even Celestial Court, protected as it was by hundreds of years of intricate spellwork by some of the darkest and most paranoid wizards known, would not completely guarantee his safety. If this fortress were to fall, what then? Where would they go? Would he have to keep on the run with Harry forever?
His head throbbing, he lifted the tumbler up to his temple and pressed the icy glass against his skin in an attempt to alleviate some of the numbing pain. He sat like that for a few moments until he heard the unmistakable popping and hissing of his fireplace coming to life. Dropping the glass to the floor with a crash, he whipped his wand out of his pocket and sprung to his feet, previous ennui forgotten in his single minded desire to eviscerate whatever was intruding.
On the verge of snarling, he stared at the hot coals until he saw the ever familiar face of Albus Dumbledore placidly looking up at him.
"Merlin's beard, Albus!" he admonished. "A little warning, if you please."
Albus' face fell contritely. "My deepest apologies, Sirius. May I come through for a moment?"
Sirius hesitated the briefest of seconds before nodding his consent. While he waited for Albus' full emergence, he took the time to repair his glass and clean the golden liquid that threatened to stick to his wooden floor. Crossing over to his decanter, he poured two more glasses, pressing one into the headmaster's hand as he approached.
"My decision hasn't changed, Albus," he stated, without looking into the damnable twinkling eyes. Ever the respectable host, he motioned for Albus to take the chair next to his before resuming his seat.
Sinking into the armchair with a grace that belied his tall stature, Albus took a small sip of the firewhiskey. "Sirius, I implore you to see reason," he said softly. "Whether we like it, or not, Harry's name being pulled from the goblet signifies a binding magical contract. You know the risks of breaking it. To Harry, as well as to yourself."
Sirius counted to ten in his head. If nothing else, he would keep his temper in check during this conversation. Albus had the all too infuriating skill of provoking him into a heated argument and, this time, Sirius would lead with his head and not with his heart.
"Albus," he started firmly, "what good would it do either Harry or myself to keep our magic intact if he is not alive to use it?"
Albus squared his shoulders just a fraction as he looked meaningfully at Sirius from above the rim of his glass. "What good would it do either of you if you save Harry from this threat, only to be powerless to help him in the face of the next one."
Sirius turned steely gray eyes towards the headmaster but, in truth, he did not have a counter point for Albus' statement. It was a thought that had been plaguing him every second since he had made the decision to bring Harry home.
"We'll deal with that when the time comes, Albus. This threat is here, now, and I have to do what I feel is best in this moment."
Albus stared at Sirius over the rims of his half spectacles, the twinkle in his eye decidedly absent. "Sirius, you are Harry Potter's guardian. You cannot afford to be shortsighted where his future is concerned. Let him come back to school. We can protect him there well enough."
Slamming his tumbler onto the small table next to his chair, Sirius turned the full force of his fury on the bearded man next to him. "Really, Albus? Really? You can protect him there? I suppose you can. As long as there are no trolls, or acromantulas."
Sirius shot to his feet and planted his hands on his hips.
"Or how about three headed dogs? Or giant basilisks? Or werewolves and escaped convicts, for that matter?"
At this, Albus rose as well, keeping his face calm, but a slight tremor of irritation making his hooked nose twitch.
"Or what about dark wizards and horcruxes, Albus," Sirius continued coldly. "What is your great plan for keeping my child safe from those?"
Albus looked at him sadly at these words, the weight of them pressing down on the older man more than Sirius would ever know. "I can't change what has happened in the past, Sirius. Merlin knows how much I wish I could. But I cannot stress enough the importance of Harry keeping his magic intact and I am willing to entertain any request you may have regarding his safety if you bring him back."
Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. In his wildest imagination, he would never have expected to hear Albus Dumbledore sound this broken about anything. It nearly wore down his resolve but, as much has he had always respected the headmaster, Harry came before everything. Turning around, he made his way over to his desk and sat down heavily.
"I'm sorry, Albus, but my answer is no. Please leave us alone."
Sirius did not even look up from the random stack of papers he had grabbed as he heard Albus take his leave.
*************
It was no wonder that neither Sirius nor Harry could sleep that night. So when Sirius tossed and turned until well after three a.m., his nocturnal visit to his godson's room did not come as a surprise to either of them.
Harry sensed his godfather's presence long before the soft noises of his movements announced his arrival. So when Sirius sat down on the edge of the bed to card his fingers through Harry's thick hair, Harry allowed it, relishing the comfort it brought him even as his heart bled.
"I love you, little one," Sirius whispered into the darkness of the room. "You know that, don't you?"
From underneath his hand, he felt Harry nod briefly, even as the boy leaned into his touch. "I just want to keep you safe, Harry. I know what Hogwarts means to you, and I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Sirius," Harry said quietly, defeat in his voice.
Sirius felt physical pain from the listlessness in his boy's tone. It wasn't okay, and they both knew it. Sirius just hoped that Harry would understand why he made the decision that he had. He would make sure that he did.
He spent another couple of minutes stroking Harry's hair before leaning over to brush a kiss on the pale forehead. Harry curled up further into his blanket, keeping his head turned away from his godfather and effectively ending the quiet discussion.
Sirius stood and slowly walked out, knowing that slumber would still prove to be most elusive tonight.
Harry listened motionless as his godfather shut the bedroom door. He buried his face further into the pillows, willing himself to stifle the scream of outrage that was just below the surface of his emotions. For all of his failings, Harry was nothing if not a clever boy.
He knew very well how much it pained Sirius to take him out of school, and he knew how deeply worried his godfather was about what had happened in the Great Hall. In all truth, Harry was a bundle of nerves himself. The certain knowledge that someone was indeed plotting against him chilling him to the bone.
***************
Sirius was already sitting at the dining room table when a very disheveled looking Harry trudged in. Quite frankly, he had not expected the boy to put in an appearance this morning, given the late hour of their talk last night, but he was pleased to see him just the same.
He greeted his godson as cheerfully as he could under the circumstances with Harry just grunting in assent. The boy was not a morning person under the best of circumstances and this particular morning didn't promise a bright and happy day.
Within moments, Bicky was placing plates in front of them groaning under the weight of their traditional Sunday breakfast and Sirius noticed, without any sort of satisfaction, Harry obediently swallowing his vitamins without a word of complaint. Although his godson was going through the motions of eating, it didn't take long for Sirius to realize that the bits of waffle and sausage that Harry was fussing with never actually made it to his mouth. With that observation, Sirius decided to just call an end to the useless meal.
"If you are finished eating, I would like you to get washed and dressed. I want to take you somewhere this morning," he stated cryptically.
He was pleased to see that Harry was at least somewhat interested as the boy cocked his head to one side and peered at him with mild curiosity.
"Where are we going?"
Sirius paused for a moment, unsure as to how much he should say about their destination. He had struggled with the idea all night and was even now having second thoughts. But, he realized that his godson had to understand exactly why his over-protectiveness had kicked into high gear. Since Harry was being more than understanding about the whole situation, Sirius felt that the bare honesty of his fears was nothing less than the boy deserved.
"I want to show you why I'm so worried for you, little one," he said softly.
Harry could see the naked pain in his godfather's eyes when he gave his answer. Not sure as to whether or not he really wanted to know what had Sirius so spooked, he decided that the least he owed his godfather was the chance to present his case. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he stood and climbed the stairs back to his room.
Twenty minutes later, a noticeably more awake Harry joined his godfather in the entryway. Sirius held out his cloak, draping it around Harry's shoulders and fastening the clasp. Harry tolerated his godfather's affectionate ministrations good naturedly. It was quite obvious that Sirius was feeling rather guilty about removing him from his school and, as a result, was acting a bit more clingy than usual.
He followed along dociley as Sirius led him outside to their usual apparition point, taking his godfather's offered arm silently and preparing himself for the sickening feeling of the travel.
******
Within seconds, they had landed hard on the cobblestone path running along the high street of a quaint little town. Harry took a minute to get his bearings, the method of travel upsetting his stomach as usual. Coming so soon after the trip last night made him a bit queasier than normal and he fought to keep down the few bites of breakfast that he had managed.
Sirius rubbed his back soothingly, patient as always for the boy to catch his breath once again. Once the flash of green had passed over Harry's face, his godfather gave him half a smile and silently inquired with a tilt of his head if he was ready to proceed. Nodding, Harry took a deep breath and paused for a moment to take in his surroundings.
There wasn't much to the town. Harry could make out a small post office to his right and a pub to his left. There were a few assorted other little shops and bits littered around the town square. In the center of the square was an obelisk, but what it commemorated, Harry couldn't tell from the distance. Behind the main business area, a few streets spread out in various directions dotted with cozy looking cottages. As strange as the circumstances were, Harry couldn't help feeling an inexplicable affinity for the little village.
Sirius stood by, quietly observing and letting Harry drink his fill. It pained him more than he could ever describe to watch Harry take in these particular surroundings in such a fashion. When it began to be too much to be born, he slung an arm around the boy's shoulders and gently led him down the high street towards the church in the distance.
Harry didn't comment as they walked. Their shoes crackled against the brittle fallen leaves along the path, the morning air crisp. Every so often, a deep exhale from the black haired boy produced a small wisp of steam as it mixed with the coldness surrounding him. It did not escape his notice that it was unseasonably cold for the first of November. Although he had not asked Sirius for a location, there was no doubt in his mind that they were still somewhere in England.
Harry noticed, as they got progressively closer to the church, that Sirius seemed to tense up the further along they walked. It wasn't until his godfather led him through the wrought iron kissing gate of the churchyard that he realized they were heading towards a cemetery. Startled, he stopped short, causing Sirius to turn abruptly to look at him.
"Sirius, where are we going?" he asked quietly, already guessing the answer in his head.
Pausing for moment, Sirius' eyes softened with sadness, confirming what Harry already suspected. "To see your Mum and Dad."
Harry sucked in a harsh breath, his heart racing in panic. It wasn't as if he had never thought about his parents and whether or not there was a grave to visit. He had thought about it, quite a lot actually, as a small child.
He had even had the courage to ask Aunt Petunia about it once, only to have her screech at him over the freakishness of his parents and how she neither knew nor cared where they were laid to rest. The tongue lashing she gave him was so ferocious in nature that he had never had the strength to ask again, preferring to keep his own ideas about it over the reality.
To have the answer to years of questions so close in hand excited him, but he was more overcome by the crushing emotion of making his first trip to the site. Especially given the fact that it had only been yesterday that marked the thirteenth anniversary of their murder. It was almost too much to take.
Sirius watched his godson struggle and was seriously contemplating giving up the whole thing as a bad idea and taking the boy home. Perhaps it was too much right now for Harry to deal with. He wondered if he would ever stop making these kinds of mistakes. But when he caught Harry taking small peeks at the headstones behind him in the distance, he decided that it might just be what they both needed.
Sirius reached out to brush some stray hair from Harry's forehead as he looked into the green eyes, questioning Harry's willingness to continue. When he saw the boy nod slightly, he dropped his hand close to Harry's own, pleasantly surprised when he felt the small slightly cold fingers slip themselves into his grasp. Gripping his godson's hand tightly, he led them through the long aisles between headstones, confidently making his way towards the two they sought.
Although he had only had a few occasions to visit, the precise location was burned into his memory and it didn't take long for them to reach it. Over the short period of time between his release from St. Mungo's and Harry's arrival at King's Cross, Sirius had made this trip almost every day in some desperate need to make up for all of the years that he had been unable to properly pay his respects to his best friend and his beautiful wife. He was ashamed to realize that, once Harry had arrived, he had not had the time to think about doing so again.
It had never really dawned on him that Harry would not have been afforded the opportunity to see where his parents slumbered for eternity and he felt another wave of crushing guilt for not having facilitated this visit sooner under less dire circumstances. It would have been hard enough for the boy in the first place.
Harry clung to his hand like it was a lifeline as they weaved in and out of the rows of headstones. When they finally arrived, Sirius stopped and stood, squeezing Harry's hand a little tighter, letting the boy take in the site at his own pace. He felt Harry first press up closer against his side, breathing heavily, but it was just another minute before he backed away again and began to tentatively approach the twin granite stones, releasing Sirius' hand as he walked.
Sirius watched as Harry knelt down on the hard ground between the stones, reaching out a hand to gently trace the letters spelling out first James' name and then Lily's.
"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death," he murmured, reading the inscription on the headstones, just before turning a distraught face up to his godfather. "What does that mean, Sirius?" he asked tearfully. "Are they still being pursued by evil, even here?"
Rushing over to where his godson was hunched over, he dropped to knees and took the boy in his arms. "No, Harry. It means that, as long as we keep them alive in our hearts and minds, they will never truly die."
Harry turned and buried his face into Sirius' broad shoulder, his small chest heaving with the exertion of pushing back the sobs that threatened to escape. He refused to cry, he wouldn't! For Sirius' part, he just held the boy as tightly as he could until the hitching motions stopped and Harry pulled away, giving him a baleful look.
"Why did you bring me here, Sirius? Why now?"
Sirius gazed at him sadly and slowly withdrew his wand. With two small flourishes, the dead leaves and debris that littered the grave site whirled upwards in a mini tornado and proceeded to blow away, tidying up the area below.
"You know how I felt about your parents, Harry," he stated matter of factly. "Your father was the closest thing to real family that I ever truly had." Turning his wand's attention to James' headstone, he began to clean the small patches of dirt that had accumulated in the grooves of the engraved name and dates.
"I never thought I would ever feel more love and affection for a person than I did for James.....and then Lily as well." Sirius' wand now made a pass over Lily's headstone, magically scrubbing away the months of neglect since his last visit.
Harry watched as Sirius' eyes went hard for a minute and then dropped in sadness again as he continued to fuss.
"They are here because of my foolish belief that we were invincible," he muttered quietly. "They are here because we were all young and ignorant enough to believe that we knew everything, that we could take anything thrown at us and come out on top. We were so naive."
Sirius stood and made his way over to the small empty space to the right of James' headstone. Swirling his wand over the ground, he began to remove the debris from the surface of the ground there as well.
"When your father died, Harry, it shattered me. I was out of my mind with grief and it cost both of us thirteen years of your life. Now, all I have of him to spend time with is a plot of land and a stone. A poor substitution for the brother that I adored."
As Harry continued to watch, a horrific awareness dawned on him when he realized just exactly what his godfather was doing.
"When you came to live with me, and we got to know each other and spend time with each other, I discovered that, as much as I loved your parents, it paled in comparison to how much I love you."
Sirius' wand stilled over the now completely cleared rectangular patch of ground. He stared down at it sadly, a lone traitorous tear sliding down his face.
"I won't make the same mistake again. I will not sit idly by and watch you walk into harm's way until all of have of you is another plot of land."
Harry jumped to his feet and threw his arms around Sirius, both clinging to the other in their shared pain and grief until the brisk wind bit into them. With Harry still firmly in his embrace, Sirius apparated them back to the comforting confines of their home.
******
In the encroaching darkness, Sirius found himself once again sitting in front of his fireplace, clutching a tumbler of liquid courage. It had been a strange quiet sort of day after their return from Godric's Hollow.
Harry had asked no further questions, although his godfather was sure that he had something on the tip of his tongue several times throughout the day. But the boy had merely contented himself to keep as close to Sirius as his teenaged pride would allow. It was no sacrifice on Sirius' part to allow this. He had "tucked" Harry into bed about an hour earlier and now, in his solitude, the sorrow that had threatened to engulf him all day was finally making a strong appearance.
He stared absentmindedly into the crackling flames, reminded painfully of Lily's fiery hair, only to be brought out of his musings by the sound of feet padding softly across the hard wood. Turning, he saw Harry standing hesitantly at the door in his tee shirt and pajama pants, feet bare on the cold floor.
"Everything okay, Harry?" he asked worriedly.
Harry nodded and crossed the length of the room, dropping quietly into the chair next to his godfather. They sat in silence for a moment before Harry finally spoke.
"I understand why you want me to stay here, Sirius. I really do, and I wanted you to know that."
Sirius looked at the boy quizzically, pleased by the admission, but confused as to why Harry still looked pensive. He waited a few seconds and was not disappointed when Harry continued.
"But, I'm just hiding here. My parents were hiding too, and it didn't stop them from getting killed."
Harry's frank words startled Sirius, almost to the point that the tumbler in his hand made a return trip to the floor. He opened his mouth to speak, but his godson beat him to the punch.
"If you truly think that I'm better off here than at Hogwarts, I'll believe you. I'll stay and I won't complain. But, Sirius, whoever is coming after me, they are just going to keep on coming whether I'm here or at school. Maybe this time, it might be better to meet them head on instead of sitting around and waiting for them to come here. Because....I think we both know that it will never stop. Will it?"
In the darkness of the library, godfather and godson stared at each other, each one more determined than the other to make sense out of madness.
****
Monday morning, the students of Hogwarts streamed into the Great Hall, eager to partake of the magnificent breakfast supplied by the house elves. Thoroughly engaged in chatter and gossip, hardly anyone paid attention to the late arrivals at the door.
Albus, standing in the dizzyingly high entryway about to make his entrance, watched the approaching pair with no small measure of satisfaction. As they drew ever closer, he also could not help but take notice of the cold stare of the younger man, determination hard set in the steely gray.
"Sirius, Harry. I am so very pleased to see you both this morning," he greeted in his usual lilting tone. "Do I take your presence here to mean that young Harry will be allowed to stay?"
Sirius made him wait an agonizing moment before nodding his confirmation. "It would seem that my godson is inconveniently talented in preparing convincing arguments against me," Sirius stated, dropping his hard glare to gaze fondly at the boy. He ruffled Harry's hair affectionately and prodded him gently towards the room. Harry threw back a large smile and then strode happily towards the Gryffindor table.
"And the child grew, waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom," Albus muttered, almost too softly for Sirius to hear.
"Hmm?" Sirius asked absentmindedly, still too absorbed in watching the enthusiastic greeting that Harry received from Ron and Hermione to really pay attention.
"It means that soon I think Harry shall be educating us, and not the other way around," Albus replied, his twinkle making a grand reappearance.
Sirius turned and once more focused hard gray against twinkling blue.
"If this is going to happen, Albus, it is going to be on my terms," he stated firmly.
"Sirius, my boy, I have no doubt of this," he answered, happy once again to lead the younger man towards the professor's table.