Prologue.
Thunder sounded like the crack of a hammer on rock as flashes of lightning lit up the night.
With an explosion of sound louder than that of the storm overhead, a man appeared in a torrent of water.
It splashed down to drench the sand beneath his feet and Sirius Black could not help but notice the spreading pool of red that coloured the sand below him. He winced as he held a hand to his leg where one of the Aurors had clipped him with a cutting curse, dimly he recalled a simple spell that would seal the cut and it took him a few heartbeats of searching before he remembered the words. Dragging his stolen wand's tip along the gash in his leg, he howled as the wound quickly cauterised before rapidly healing until an ugly red and puckered scar was left in its place. It was quick battlefield healing and it had been a literal lifesaver during the war, he had lost count of the times either he or James had treated each other's wounds, but it had only cemented the bonds of brotherhood they had always shared. He collapsed to his knees as his fingers dug into the soft sand and despite the stinging pain in his leg he began to laugh. It was a pure sound, for the first time in over a decade he felt free.
He knew with utter certainty that he was going to be a hunted man for the rest of his life, but right now he did not care.
Staring at the sand that had clumped in his hand, he raised his wand and began to focus on what he wanted. The sand had mixed with his blood but he did not care as he watched it begin to move. Slowly at first, it began to swirl as if caught in a whirlwind before it began to fall back into itself, Sirius watched with a small smile as the sand began to stick together as a cherry red glow began to emanate from it as he channelled more of his Magic into his spell work.
After several seconds the glow faded and he was left staring at a small blood-red glass bead the size of his little fingernail, he had not intended for the colour but he could only shrug his shoulder as he held it up to the wan light.
A peel of thunder almost directly overhead brought him back to reality with a start.
Giving a quick shake of his head he took a moment to focus. He had never thought to make it out of the prison alive, it had been sheer desperation and desire to see this Callian Blackwood who he had sired without knowing. He felt a small nugget of fury take root in his heart at the thought of the boy, he had become an occasional lover of the young daughter heir of the Blackwood whenever their paths crossed during the war. They had fought, bled and grieved together many times for friends and comrades lost, yet she never once had mentioned that he had given her a son.
An angry hum emanated from the wand in his hand as his thoughts lingered upon Amerytha. More than that, the boy had been accepted as Heir of House Black. Arcturus Black had been a staunch traditionalist and a royal bastard whenever he had met the man and had been quite vocal about the failings of his sons and Grandsons. Yet, it seemed that he had found a worthy successor in Callian, something that did not fill him with confidence in his son's character.
He would find the boy and Harry, he would see them with his own eyes and ensure they were well. He had a small fortune squirrelled away and he had never trusted the Goblins with his gold, he would use every last coin of it to ensure that the boys would never want for anything.
He just had to find them first.
The Blackwood Forests were known to the Magical world as a place not to be entered lightly. Denevan had long ensured that any trespassers were dealt with harshly, after all, it would only invite trouble if others believed the old Wizard had grown weak.
A part of him was tempted to wait until they returned to Hogwarts, the school was far from impregnable as he had discovered in his younger years. A smile flittered across his face as he thought back on those times when he was young, dumb and full of the foolish confidence of a child.
Lost in memories of some of the best times of his life, he watched as James and Remus dragged a scared and blubbering Pettigrew down one of their favourite hidden corridors. He remembered shaking his head at the panicking boy as he deftly wove his wand in a complicated pattern, adding the finishing touches to the spells they had layered over the second-floor corridor. A hand on his shoulder and he turned to see the grinning face of James Potter as his friend pulled him deeper into the shadows of the secret passage as the gravelly voice of Argus Filch, the school's caretaker could be heard heading in their direction.
They watched in glee as the pop and crackle of their spell traps firing filled the air as the foul man stumbled into one after another.
All of a sudden a loud squawking filled the air as the man was transfigured into a six-foot tall featherless and rather ugly-looking bird.
The now avian caretaker took off down the corridor at a surprisingly fast pace.
With a bark of laughter, Sirius called out to his friend. "Good one, James!"
Yet as he turned he found only the cold and crashing waters of the North Sea and the peal of thunder booming overhead.
He steeled himself against the pain of the loss of his dearest friend before he looked to the south. He had made a desperate and nearly blind apparition jump that had brought him to the shores of Scotland, if he was not mistaken he was near Aberdeen. He vaguely recalled the place from when he and James had skipped a few days of school, and gone camping in the wild during their sixth year.
Focusing his mind with some effort he pictured his old flat in muggle London. He had bought it as soon as he had graduated and had Warded it with all the protective Magics he and his fellow Marauders could muster. It was also not on any of the Ministry's lists. He may not hold many of the same values as his family, but his father and mother had instilled it in him to be wary of the Ministry and the bookkeepers.
As such knew it would be one of the few places he could hold up for a few nights while he figured out how he was going to see his son and Harry.
A sudden chill found him then, its icy touch seeming to leech all the warmth from him and he watched with dismay as the shallow waters along the shore began to turn to a slush that quickly thickened into a small layer of ice. With a growl he scanned his surroundings, searching for the dreaded cloaked forms of the foul enemy that had haunted his every waking moment for the past ten years.
He saw them then, still far out at sea but visible only due to the sheer amount of them clogging the skies. It was like a low black cloud that radiated an aura of fear and menace even over several miles, he knew by the way they were skimming over the waters they were hoping to pick up his scent.
Their powers of hunting their prey were almost mythical, but right now he could have done without seeing first-hand just how good they were to have gotten this close already. Taking a steadying breath he focused on a destination and with a deafening crack disappeared from the sandy beach, determined to throw them from his trail before he sought out his old home.
The night was fast closing in as Sirius appeared with a deafening crack within the shadows of an alleyway. He could see a few muggles crossing the alley's entrance; one couple gave a start as they peered into the dark. His keen ears caught the worried question the young woman asked her partner. "Was that a gunshot?!"
The man, with a gaunt and pinched face, worriedly shook his head. "Nah love, just kids being stupid I think. Come on let's get out of here."
He watched them hurry away and could not help the small grin that tugged at his lips, he had forgotten how jumpy the Muggles could be.
He quickly shook his head as he focused on the task at hand and quickly the change came over him. Fur sprouted from his body and he felt his bones begin to ache as the transformation took hold, and for a few heart-stopping seconds he hovered on the brink between man and beast. If someone had come into the alley then they would have run in terror at the sight of him.
He knew that he looked like some pale imitation of a Werewolf, during their younger years when the Marauders had been learning to control their transformations they had met with several difficulties. He and James had both struggled with getting past this point, in fact, it had taken him the longest to learn to fully transform into his animagus form.
Yet, there was a part of him that wanted to linger on that brink, to straddle the divide between man and beast. It filled him with a strength that he did not feel as either a man or dog and he knew that Moony, Remus' other half had prefered to run with him like that.
With an effort, he urged the transformation to be completed and he gave a relieved yip before hurrying out onto the street. On the few times that he had allowed himself to dwell in that strange form, he had been nearly as feral as Remus. James had barely made it out of the forest alive when the two of them had gone after him. It was only thanks to the fact they had crossed the Ward line and he could apparate away that saved his friend from a grizzly end.
Quickly he crossed the road and tried to avoid the pools of orange provided by the streetlights; it would not do to scare the Muggles with the sight of a giant wolfhound bounding through the city streets.
He was near now, the area around him looked exactly as it had been before his incarceration and he quickly made his way up the old iron stairway and ducked into the recessed entryway that led to his flat.
A quick look revealed that no one was watching him, and in a matter of moments he was a man once more. A few cursory examinations revealed that the wards he and Lily had worked to protect the place still lingered, if somewhat weakened, without maintenance for over a decade. It was a testament to his friend's skill with Magic, many others would not have been able to erect wards that could last a year without falling let alone over a decade.
Thinking about Lily just reaffirmed his need to see his boys, but first, he needed food and rest.
Tapping out a rhythm on the antique brass knocker with his pilfered wand, the door opened without a sound. A flick of flame at the nearest light gas lamp and the hallway was bathed in amber light.
Stepping into his old home he felt a weight leave him as for the first time in ten years he felt safe. The door closed with a faint click behind him could feel the ambient magic of the flat stirring at his return, it seemed to settle about him like a familiar blanket. It did not have the same sense of alertness that his old family home or even Hogwarts possessed but it was comforting and soothing.
He let out a sob as his bare feet sank into the soft chocolate brown carpet, the faint traces of a warming charm still lingering about the floor. Making his way into the modest lounge, he fell onto the small sofa he had 'borrowed' from Hogwarts with ragged sobs as the emotions of his turbulent flight from Azkaban caught up with him. His leg throbbed, but the wound he had received had not reopened, which was a small mercy considering his hectic flight from the Dementors. He tried to push himself off the sofa but found he had little strength remaining to him and he found his head falling back as his body finally gave in to the call of sleep.
His last thoughts before he fell into the darkness of sleep were of a son he did not know and a boy he loved more than anything.
