Sirius frowned at Arthur's reply. After almost a week there were no signs of anybody even taking a nibble of the bait. Tailing Burke and cronies didn't win Sirius any new leads either. Could Peter have known he was after him? No, that would mean Peter has an informant in the DoM, or somehow got the information out of Weasley. It would need some more investigating.
Giving it up as a bad job, Sirius stood up and made his way to the DoM apparition point. Being completely honest with himself, he admitted he had avoided going back to Privet Drive. He said more than he should have, although, Harry knew less than he should have. He might need to consult with Dumbledore about that. He knew about the powerful protection magic Harry could only enjoy – bad choice of words, maybe – while living with blood relatives, but there must be some way to intervene if the abuse were half as horrible as Sirius suspected.
Harry was laying on his bed in the cupboard beneath the stairs, watching a spider construct his web in a corner. He wondered if Sirius had come back, if Sirius had forgotten about him. How did Sirius know his parents? What had his parents done to the Dursleys that they hated them so much? Maybe Sirius wasn't coming back. Maybe he abandoned him. Maybe he died, just like Harry's parents, and left him here, with the Dursleys, for the rest of his life.
There was a knock at the door. Harry listened listlessly. Dust floated down over him as uncle Vernon's heavy footsteps came down the stairs. He heard the door open.
"Sergeant! How are you?" Uncle Dursley welcomed the visitor in.
"Dursley! It seems my grass hadn't been cut for a week now! What on earth is going on?"
Harry perked up when he heard Sirius's voice.
"The boy has committed… grievous acts of… we had to punish him! We can't have…" Uncle Vernon floundered a bit.
"I paid to have my grass cut and my yard tended to! Punish insubordination however you like, but do it on your own time, not time I paid for!"
"I understand your frustration, but you'll have to have words with the boy after he's served his punishment." Uncle Vernon said, attempting to close the issue.
Sirius's voice got dangerously low. "I've had more words than I care for. Now, bring me the boy, or mow my grass yourself, Dursley, but never waist my time again!"
Harry heard footsteps approaching. The cupboard door swung open, and uncle Vernon's face appeared, more purple than usual.
"Get out of here and go mow the sergeant's grass! And if you ever embarrass me like this again, I'll turn you over to him for disciplinary action!" Uncle Vernon looked a bit more pleased with himself after passing the blame to Harry. Harry, however, saw something in his uncle's face. Could he be afraid of Sirius? "Get moving!"
Harry ran out of the cupboard and ran after Sirius, who were already walking stiffly down the street.
"I hope it wasn't too bad," Sirius whispered through the side of his mouth, without turning his head or changing his gait, once Harry caught up to him. "I should've been back sooner."
"At least they leave me alone when I'm in the cupboard," Harry replied.
Sirius fixed Harry a meal and a glass of lemonade once they reached his house. Harry was bursting with curiosity, and started questioning Sirius immediately.
"Calm down, Harry. I'll tell you the basics, but I can't tell you everything. You'll have to promise me to be smart about this. If you reveal your hand, your aunt and uncle may consider it a risk to let you come here."
"I promise," Harry answered, immediately.
"You cannot tell them anything, not in anger, not in fear, never show you caught them in a lie."
"I promise," Harry said again, but considered it more earnestly this time.
"Your father and I were at school together. We were best friends. Your mother also attended the school, but we didn't become friends until later. Your father's parents took me in at a time when life was too difficult to bear in my own home. They were wonderful people. Your parents were wonderful people. They named me your godfather.
At the time, there were a group of people who wanted control. They wanted to subjugate people they considered their lesser. A sort of terrorist organization. A secret war was raging. Your mother and father, along with a few others, actively fought against this group. The nature of the war going on made it difficult to know who to trust.
Your mother and father had to go into hiding. They wanted me to keep the secret of their location, but I declined, thinking it would be too obvious. Instead, I convinced them to trust another friend, while pretending that I was the one who knew the secret, so that they would come after me and the secret keeper would be safe. Unfortunately, we all put our trust in the wrong person. He betrayed us, and your parents paid the price. You're still paying the price.
That same night, the leader of the terrorists was vanquished. Some of his followers remained, and I've spent my life hunting them and criminals similar to them down."
Harry sat in stunned silence for a minute, digesting this information. "Can I come and live with you?" he finally asked.
"I'm sorry Harry, but no. The people who murdered your parents might still be out looking for you. As someone who actively works against them, I already have a target on my back. The nature of my work prevents me from reliably being around. I'm afraid, as much as you don't want to hear it, the safest place for you is with the Dursleys."
Harry was silent again. Sirius were impressed with the maturity Harry seemingly had, dealing with these revelations.
"When will I be old enough to know more?" Harry asked.
"On your 11th birthday, I will tell you everything." Sirius promised.
After finishing up, Sirius helped Harry mow the lawn, for the sake of pretense. Harry remained quiet through the afternoon. Sirius wondered if he did the wisest thing. Harry needed to hear something, and Sirius wouldn't have been able to lie to him. Harry deserved more than that.
"What are you insinuating?" Croaker asked Sirius.
They were sitting in the head of the DoM's tastefully decorated office. Sirius had informed him of his concerns about the bait not being taken.
"I'm saying he knows. He's been tipped off, or he has a mole somewhere."
"I'm assuming it wasn't you. I assume you wouldn't accuse me. Are you saying it's Arthur Weasley?"
"Does Arthur Weasley look like he's making a lot of money from underhanded dealings? I doubt it would have been him."
"Then what are you saying Sirius?" Croaker asked. Before Sirius had a chance to reply, Croaker continued, "Maybe Mundungus sold you out. Have you thought about that? He knows your past with Pettigrew, he knows you're investigating Peter, he always knows a way to make a Galleon. Have you thought about it from Peter's perspective? He sells a few things he, or someone, stole from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts evidence locker and suddenly there's not only a market for stolen Black family heirlooms, but the Black family home is raided? He hasn't escaped you for six years by being stupid! Maybe you blew it, maybe you caught a whiff of Pettigrew's stink and through all caution to the wind. Have you ever thought about that?"
Sirius shook his head. Looking back, he saw the flaws in his original plan.
"Now, I think we both know this case has just turned cold again. The human trafficking vampire case is red hot, so as of now, you're being reassigned. Report for duty when you have your affairs in order, I'll hand the Pettigrew case over to someone else for now, but you are of much more use to me in the field than behind a desk."