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Chapter Text

Sirius had never been good at the waiting game. He preferred to dive straight into the action. 

It was the reason why he hadn't been able to sit still ever since he sent the Patronus to Peter. He was too restless, too anxious. One moment he would think about what he would do to his former friend when he arrived here, and the next he would almost be chewing his fingers off wondering if Peter would even come here at all.

It was the kind of game that was almost torturous. 

It had been nearly forty minutes since his hour began. If Peter did not arrive in the next twenty minutes, Sirius....he didn't know if he would actually run.

He told himself that, tried to draw his resolve from that thought. He was innocent. Innocent men do not run. He did not have anything to hide. He'd request veritaserum, and give his truthful testimony.

Not that he preferred to do it.

Taking a veritaserum testimony wasn't as simple as one thought it was i.e., make someone drink the potion. It was a potion that was heavily regulated by the ministry, and extremely difficult to make properly. It wasn't so readily available, which was why the court had to carefully deliberate when exactly would it be best to use.

There was a procedure to administer the potion. First, the person must be checked for any potions inside their system, including the antidote. If they weren't, then they would be directed to flush the potions from their body and then appear for the next hearing. 

Next, the person would be checked for the presence of Occlumency. A skilled Occlumens could mitigate the effects of the serum. If the person is tested positive for Occlumency, then they would be bespelled with a variant of the Confundus charm, specifically targeting their Occlumency. It will forcefully dispel their psychic barriers, causing a mild headache.

Only after that will the potion be administered to the person. 

Sirius shuddered, remembering the feeling of the potion. It wasn't unlike that of the imperious curse, only he was fully conscious. Veritaserum wasn't mind control, but it did force one to truthfully answer whichever question had been posed to them. Try as he might, he couldn't lie at all. His mouth spoke without him speaking. 

It left him feeling absolutely violated.

He rolled his wand between his fingers, trying hard not to focus on the possibility that his trap might fail. Time seemed to be passing simultaneously very slowly, and very fast as well. The wait was getting on his nerves.

He sat down with a scowl on his face, angry at how he'd been forced into this....unjust situation. It was not fair at all.

With fifteen minutes left to the hour, there was a knock on the door. A timid voice called out. "Sirius?"

Sirius went very still. It had worked. It had really worked.

The rat had taken the bait. Had anyone seen Sirius at that moment, they would have run from just seeing the toothy, ear-to-ear smile on his face. He looked positively demonic. 

The bait had worked. Now it was time to spring the trap. 

Peter had appeared in an alley beside the building. He turned right away into a mouse, using forgettable form to check for anything out of place. It wouldn't do to walk straight into an ambush.

When everything looked fine, he slipped inside through a tiny hole in the door. He checked the hallway and once he confirmed no one was watching, he transformed back. He kept his wand hidden in his sleeve as he climbed the stairs. 

So far, he couldn't find any sort of trap. It had occurred to him that Sirius might simply be baiting him to capture him, but nothing in Sirius's voice had suggested that he was lying. Still, as Moody always said, constant vigilance.

He reached his flat and paused outside the door, drawing in a slow breath. The familiar weight of his wand in his hand steadied him, just enough to dull the edge of panic.

If anything felt wrong, if Sirius so much as looked at him the wrong way, Peter would run.

And if running wasn’t an option…

His fingers twitched.

Then he would do what survival required.

His fist came up to knock, and he couldn't hide the tinge of nervousness that crept into his voice. "Sirius?"

He heard footsteps and the door swung open, revealing his friend. 

Sirius looked tired. The kind of tired that was bone deep. Peter remembered that Sirius probably hadn't had time to rest after his shift, with what him helping in the Longbottom raid, then defending himself from a Death Eater attack, then going to check on Harry in Godric's Hollow. 

But more than tired, he looked relieved. For a moment, both of them just stared at each other with wide eyes. Then Sirius's words came out in an exhale as he almost fell on Peter in a bear hug. "Oh, thank Merlin you're alright, Peter."

Peter had almost cursed Sirius when he grabbed him like that, but he caught himself just in time to remember that Sirius believed him to be innocent, to be still his friend. Reluctantly, his arms wrapped around Sirius's frame. "I'm fine, Sirius." 

Sirius pulled back, eyes almost desperately roaming all over. "You weren't attacked, were you?"

Peter forced himself to relax with each breath and smiled, shaking his head. "I'm good at hiding, remember?"

Sirius released a disbelieving laugh, nodding. He seemed to pull himself together as he stepped aside, letting Peter in. "It's been a long night, Wormtail."

Yes, Peter had gathered that. He took in the sight of his flat, nose slightly wrinkling at the dust that had gathered. He hadn't lived here for a little more than a week now. "Are you alright, Padfoot?"

Sirius had locked the door and approached him. Something in his gait put Peter back on guard, his hand palming his wand as Sirius came to stop in front of him. He looked....well, serious. 

Damn unintended puns.

Sirius extended an arm. "Grab my arm. We're going to my place."

Alarm rose in his chest as he stuttered out. "Y-Your place? What's wrong with being h-here?"

Sirius smirked tiredly. "You wouldn't know, but when I arrived here there were two snatchers positioned outside the building across the street. I almost got cursed in the back." The smirk vanished. "This safe house is compromised. There's no telling when the next group will arrive, and in what numbers. We need to leave now."

A chill went up his spine. Snatchers had been watching his place? Why? He hadn't even been living here, or had they decided to kidnap Peter already to enact their revenge and believed he might come here?

Sirius was right. This place was no longer safe. He grabbed Sirius by his forearm, and felt himself twisted into a tube in a side-along apparition. 

They arrived right inside Sirius's living room. He immediately let go of Sirius's arm, watching him for any sign that this was a trap. But Sirius only turned away, heading towards his kitchen. Peter looked around. It had been months since he had been here. The last time he was here was when the four of them were celebrating Remus's birthday.

He heard the clanking of glass, and saw Sirius come out of the kitchen holding two glasses and a bottle of...alcohol, was it? It didn't look like firewhiskey. 

"Fancy a drink?"

Peter almost said no on reflex, but stopped. The night had been stressful, and he could use a drink to calm his nerves. "What's that?"

Sirius looked at him, slightly perplexed, but understood when he saw Peter looking at the bottle with confusion. "Scotch whiskey. It's a muggle alcoholic drink. Here," he poured a generous amount into a glass and handed it to Peter, "I think you'll like the taste."

Peter sniffed the glass. The drink had a strong, almost a smoky tinge to it. It smelled nothing like firewhiskey, but Peter hadn't tasted a lot of muggle alcohol before. He waited until Sirius had poured his glass and gestured for a toast. Peter gently clinked his glass with Sirius's.

"To James and Lily."

"To James and Lily."

He waited until Sirius had taken a sip, and only took his own when Sirius gulped it down. He had to be sure there wasn't any poison, but then he reminded himself. Sirius wasn't the sort of guy to do that. 

Living in a Death Eater safehouse had certainly intensified his anxiety.

His eyes widened slightly as he rolled the liquid in his mouth, and gulped it down. He looked at his glass in slight appreciation. "Quite the taste, it has."

Sirius smirked at him, his own glass dangling in his fingers as he rested back in his armchair. "James and I had a lot of fun experimenting with muggle drinks."

The slight cheer left his voice, and his eyes seemed lose their light. "It's been a hell of a night, I tell ya. To think James and Lily are dead...." Sirius's lip quivered, and he took a sip out of his drink.

Peter quietly sipped his own drink slowly. He was definitely feeling a bit better, but he had to watch his words. His mouth tended to race ahead of his mind when he got nervous, and he was feeling nervous right now. "To think that the dark- you-know-who," he hastily corrected, "could bypass the Fidelius charm."

The Order referred to him as you-know-who, deliberately not acknowledging the man as a "lord". Only his followers and some civilians called him as the dark lord. It was a testament to his terrifying reputation that no one in the order dare mention the name out loud, as though speaking it would summon him instantly.

Last Peter checked, there was no such taboo on his name, but people still held themselves from speaking it, likening it to inviting terrible misfortune.

Sirius shook his head. "I never would have imagined it." His eyes flicked to Peter. "Say Wormtail, did you feel anything, as the secret-keeper? Like the charm failing or something?"

Oh no. How was he supposed to answer a question like that?

He slowly took a long sip, taking time to gather his thoughts. Best to go with a non-answer that sounded like a truth. "Not particularly. Though I did wake up suddenly from my sleep, if that counts."

Sirius was frowning, probably turning that in his head. "I suppose it does....this is the first time this has happened really, so I don't know what the secret-keeper is supposed to feel."

His heart calmed down once again, and he sipped once more. So far, he was managing his nervousness well. He felt a little more appreciative of the drink. It was doing a good job of warming him up.

"Where have you been sleeping though, if not here? It looks like you haven't lived here in quite a while."

 Peter froze. For a moment, it felt like he had been caught. He quickly gulped down the rest of his drink and leaned forward to pour more into his glass. Sirius's questions were quickly proving to be a good counter to the whiskey's ability to calm his frayed nerves.

"A-Around, I guess."

"....around where?"

He sipped from his glass. "S-Sometimes at the Leaky Cauldron. Sometimes at Three Broomsticks. Sometimes I," he hesitated, and added on anyway, "Sometimes I slept in my a-animagus form too, in the sewers."

"You were sleeping, as a rat, in the sewers?"

He shrugged, trying to pass it off as normal. What he said wasn't completely untrue, just bits and pieces. "Merlin Peter, why didn't you tell any of us? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you, Sirius. You were already far too much occupied with you auror duties and all. Besides," he let a touch of indignance into his voice, "I c-could look after myself. I'm alive, a-aren't I?"

He could have told Sirius, and Sirius would have let him stay with him. Only he chose not to, as he didn't want anyone getting on his back for slipping out during the wee hours of the night to meet up with the Death Eaters. 

That would have been hard to explain.

"Still, you should have told me at least. I could have done something."

Peter kept quiet, unsure of what to say to that. He just sipped his drink and changed the topic. "Do you know were Remus is right now?"

Sirius thoughtfully took a sip from his own glass. "Last I heard, Dumbledore had sent him undercover to negotiate with the werewolves who hadn't thrown in their lot with Greyback. Keep them from joining the fight against us."

"That was around three weeks ago. I wager he's returned since then. It's only a matter of finding out where he's been staying."

"Can't we just ask Dumbledore?"

Sirius pursed his lips, a visible sign of his annoyance. "If Dumbledore knows where Remus is, he's not telling. He says that Remus needs to not be seen with any Order member to maintain his cover of separating from us."

That did make sense, he supposed. Dumbledore had that habit of not telling anyone everything. He practiced compartmentalization within the Order extensively. Still though, the notion of going behind Dumbledore's back- for him this would be the second time- wasn't exactly appealing to him. "Then we should probably listen to him, r-right? If Dumbledore thinks Remus needs to be alone, then he's p-probably right."

That did make Sirius glower at him, and Peter resisted the urge to change and run. "He also thought James and Lily would be safe under a Fidelius charm, but look how that turned out."

Peter wisely chose to keep quiet. Getting into an argument with Sirius about what he thought was right would get him nowhere. He sucked at arguing with Sirius anyway. 

"By the way, mind telling me when you got a second wand?"

This time, Peter choked and the alcohol went into the wrong pipe which burned. He nearly coughed his lungs out for the next minute or two before he finally caught his breath. "W-What?"

Sirius was patiently waiting for him to stop coughing. "I asked, when did you get a second wand?"

"H-How did you know?"

Sirius gestured with a finger. "When we hugged earlier, I felt something pointy pressing into my ribs. Something thin. I figured it was a wand. Mind letting me have a look?"

He could not show it. Definitely not. The dark lord's wand was as infamous as he was, with a bony snake-like handle and purely white in colour. It was a look that stood out, and everyone recognized it. If Peter showed Sirius the wand, then he would know that Peter had been to Godric's Hollow as well.

But he went for the wand, and didn't inform anyone about Harry? About James and Lily?

Uncomfortable questions would arise, the answers to which Peter could not give. Sirius would definitely figure out that the dark lord didn't bypass the Fidelius through some obscure mechanism, but simply by knowing of the secret through Peter.

If Peter didn't show him the wand, then too Sirius would get suspicious. After all, why would Peter make it such a big deal of not showing him a simple wand?

It seemed that Peter would have to run and hide, after all. At least he could frame Sirius along the way.

Sirius was comfortably leaned back in his chair, sipping from his glass and waiting for him to show him the wand. He was completely off guard. Good. Made things much easier.

Peter made a show of reaching with his left hand for his inner right jacket pocket and as subtly as possible, he slid his own wand into his right arm. Quick as a flash, he pointed the wand at his friend and before Sirius could so much as speak, Peter shouted. "Stupefy!"

Sirius had only been able to widen his eyes and was in the middle of uttering something when it struck him. The force of his stunning spell was such that it threw Sirius backwards, toppling the chair and sending him crashing into the wall. Sirius slumped to the floor, completely knocked out. The glass slipped and shattered on the floor, the alcohol spilling.

Peter breathed hard, almost unable to believe what he had just done. For a moment, the guilt struck again. He was about to condemn his friend to a lifetime of punishment. He buried it back once again.

Well, no turning back now. 

Carefully, he stepped over the shards of glass and knelt down beside Sirius. He lifted his arm and removed the wand from his holster. Then he proceeded to randomly fire spells all over the flat, knocking and breaking things. He even set the bookshelf on fire. He needed to show that there was a fight, and that Sirius was guilty of murdering his best friend.

Then he threw the wand a little ways away from Sirius, The next bit was going to be....painful.

He took out his own wand out, pointing it at his left ring finger. In a rare moment of humour, it occurred to him that if he had one, his future wife is going to have a problem.

But that was a problem for future Peter.

He cast a weak cutting hex, yelling in agony as his finger was separated into two at the middle. Blood poured freely from the fresh stump, and Peter hastily tore off a piece of his coat to wrap it around the remainder and stop the bleeding. He grit his teeth, whimpers escaping as the cloth rubbed against the exposed flesh. He wished he knew some charms to lessen the pain and stop the bleeding, but he didn't.

This would have to do.

He quickly crossed the living room and left the flat. He paused by the door once, looking back. Sirius was still lying unconscious, and it looked like a nasty fight had broken out. Peter was sure that the aurors would be here any minute. Magical disturbance in a muggle area was always investigated. His cut off finger would serve as evidence of his death. Sirius would be condemned and sent to Azkaban for his murder.

Peter did not feel bad, as he thought he would.

It was Sirius's fault for asking all those questions. Had he not been so curious, then Peter wouldn't have to do this. No, it wasn't Peter's fault at all. He was just trying to survive. 

He changed into a rat and made his way out. His heart didn't slow down until he was well away from the building.

Looks like he might be staying at the Weasley's after all.

"Oh Peter....did you really think it would be that easy?"

That voice came from all around. It almost vibrated with a dark fury promising untold pain. The voice froze Peter in his tracks, and he found out that he couldn't move.

The voice was Sirius.

In a single blink, the world changed entirely. It was a whiplash. Peter found himself not as a rat on the street, but still as a human sitting in the apartment with a drink in his hand. In just a single moment, Peter became aware of four things.

One, the apartment did not looked roughed up. It looked pristine.

Two, Sirius hadn't touched his glass at all. It was there on the table, still filled but clearly untouched.

Three, Peter's left sleeve had been torn open, revealing the shallow outline of the dark mark to the entire world. Also, his finger wasn't cut off.

Four, Sirius was comfortably seated in his chair instead of lying on the floor, looking like the cat that caught the canary. There was a dark satisfaction brewing in his eyes as he glared at Peter.

"Quite the imagination you have, Wormtail".

Casting illusions directly into one's mind via legilimency was extremely tricky, and it worked under the very specific condition that the target has to have no Occlumency at all. Practically useless against even a half-decent Occlumens but when done right, it stopped a fight before it even began. Sirius did it so he could get Peter to lower his guard and see how he would respond to a light interrogation. Would he come clean, or would he fight?

He certainly had his answer now. The rat even had the guts to cut his own finger off to frame Sirius for his death! Rather hardcore for someone like Peter.

Had Peter known Occlumency, Sirius's attempt at a Legilimency illusion would have failed. He'd have to subdue Peter physically and while he would have succeeded, it would have made a mess of his place.

Fortunately, Sirius knew for a fact that Peter possessed no talent for the mind arts. 

Sirius watched as his former friend came to his senses, and eyes widen as the realization set in along with the panic. He dropped his glass, causing him to spill the whiskey and break into pieces. He almost didn't catch his wand when it left his holster, and he pointed it forward, the first syllable of the stunning spell incantation on his tongue.

Sirius was faster. 

In one smooth motion his arm unfolded, his wand slid into his palm and just as his arm straightened to point, a silent disarming charm left his wand. 

The force was such that it sent Peter cleanly toppling over the chair and smashing into the apartment wall behind. It was just how Peter had knocked him out in the illusion. Sirius saw two wands thrown in up in the air- one that was Peter's, and the other was undoubtedly Voldemort's. 

He let them fall to the floor.

Sirius finally let the fury break loose.

He vaulted onto the table, cleared the chair in a single motion, and used the force of his landing to drive his fist hard beneath his former friend’s breastbone. He knew exactly where to strike. Knew exactly how it would hurt.

He took vicious satisfaction in the way Peter’s eyes squeezed shut, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as his body folded in on itself, instinctively trying to protect the source of the pain.

Sirius didn’t give him the chance.

It was a clean hit to the diaphragm. He had quite literally knocked the breath from Peter’s lungs. For the next several minutes, breathing would not come easily.

Good. It's the least he deserved.

Sirius forcefully pushed Peter straight up against the wall, not letting the man recover. Spit flew from his mouth as he snarled right in Peter's face. "You betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort! It is because of you that they are DEAD! YOU HEAR ME PETER?! THEY ARE DEAD! BECAUSE. OF. YOU!"

He was shouting by the end of it. Sirius pushed himself back, letting the man fall to the floor and curl up. He knelt down and grabbed him by his collar. "You knew what Voldemort wanted to do. He wanted to kill Harry, a baby. And you agreed to help him, you filthy coward."

Peter had tears in his eyes because of the pain, but Sirius didn't care. He shook him back and forth roughly. "What I want to know is why, why you would go and join that dark fucker. Why you betrayed us!"

Peter was wheezing now, dragging in air that refused to come. Each breath hitched and stuttered, his chest spasming uselessly as he clawed at the floor.

“I— I didn't mean to—” he wheezed, the words shredded between desperate attempts at oxygen. “I had— no— choice—”

He sucked in a thin, whistling gasp that barely filled his lungs.

“He would’ve— killed me—” Another broken inhale. “The Dark Lord— he would’ve—”

Sirius watched him without an ounce of mercy. Peter’s eyes shone wet and wild as he forced the rest out, voice splintering around the pain.

“What— what would you have done—” he rasped, barely audible, “in my place?”

"I would have died! I would have died rather than betray my friends!" Sirius yelled back, his own pain making itself known because why was that even a question?!

Peter coughed, a thin, broken sound, and forced the words out between ragged gasps.

“Th-then maybe—” he wheezed, clutching at his gut, “maybe you should’ve— been in my place— instead of me—”

The tears that came were not of rage. They were of sorrow. "Yes, it should've been me. If it was, they would be alive." He grabbed him by the collar again. He couldn't help it. He sobbed with grief, shaking him as if doing that would answer his questions, "You should have told me you couldn't do it, Peter. Why didn't you?"

But Peter, it seemed, was oblivious to Sirius's grief. "H-How-"

Sirius lifted his head, panting after all the yelling. "How...what?"

"How did- how did you...do that?"

For a moment, Sirius was confused. Then it dawned- Peter was referring to his illusion. He snarled. "You don't deserve any answers from me, Peter. None!"

'Ting!'

That was the timer he had set for his one hour. He scowled and roughly pulled Peter up. "We're late. Get up!"

He summoned the two wands to himself with a flick and put them in a plastic bag his pocket. With another motion his auror robe came flying, neatly settling onto him. He waved his wand towards Peter's hands, conjuring steel cuffs that swiftly bound his hands behind his back. Lastly, he pointed his wand towards Peter and enunciated clearly.

"Dolor Metamorphis." 

His twisted his wand towards the left, as if locking a door. Then he grinned, taking delight in the way Peter took a step back. "Try turning into a rat now. I dare you."

Should he do so, Peter would feel the immense pain of bones breaking, muscles tearing, nerves setting on fire, and skin splitting open. It wouldn't actually happen, but he would experience the sensation of it all. Such was the 

He then pushed him towards the fireplace. Peter whimpered. "W-What are we late for?"

Sirius threw the floo powder into the fire, turning it green. "We have an appointment to keep."

Sirius stepped out the atrium fireplaces designated for aurors and stepped to the side. A moment later, Peter came sliding out of the fireplace, soot all over him. Sirius dispelled the compulsion charm he had put on Peter to make him follow him and pulled him up.

"Come on. They're probably lining up as we speak."

"W-Who's lining up?"

"Aurors."

Peter was practically vomiting the words out. "Why would they be lining up?"

"To capture me probably. Moody thinks I betrayed James and Lily, and not you." Sirius roughly pulled him forward, motioning him to walk faster. "You're my ticket to innocence, Wormtail."

Peter looked like he wanted to say something, but Sirius hit him with a silencing charm. He was done listening. Peter was rapidly looking all over the place, as if he could find a way somehow escape from here. Up ahead, Sirius's thoughts were confirmed. The aurors were already marching in their direction, probably making their way to the fireplaces.

His heart hammered inside his chest. He knew he was a little late, but Peter was right in his grasp. Moody would understand. Still, the sight of so many aurors assembled, no doubt having been given orders to start the hunt for him, made his steps falter and hair stand up straight.

He took a deep breath and let it out, settled his mind, and drew on the courage of his Gryffindor heart. Then he marched straight, this time without hesitation.

The aurors all came to a stop upon seeing them, their leader motioning with his hand. Williamson was a jerk of an auror captain, but he knew his stuff, and he respected Moody enough to not undermine his authority by taking orders from someone outside the department. "You're late, Black."

Sirius shrugged, trying not to let his anxiety show. "Catching a rat this big isn't as easy as you think it is."

Williamson hadn't lowered his wand, but he looked contemplative. "I see. Badge and Verification?"

"31159, Delta-black 01."

Williamson held Sirius’s gaze a moment longer, then finally lowered his wand. He didn’t look convinced. He looked irritated.

Without taking his eyes off Sirius, he jerked his head toward one of the aurors. “Fetch Moody.”

The auror hurried off. Williamson turned back slowly, as though savouring the moment. “Care to tell me,” he said, voice edged with mock politeness, “why Moody’s got us gearing up to tear the country apart looking for you?”

Sirius didn’t blink. “I’m sure he told you everything you needed to know, Williamson.”

Williamson scratched idly at his ear with his little finger, expression deliberately unimpressed. “Oh, he did.” His mouth twisted. “Said you might be the reason James and Lily Potter are dead.”

He let that hang there, watching for a reaction.

“I’ll admit,” he went on, tone sharpening, “I wasn’t shocked. Black family pedigree and all that. Figured you’d finally stopped pretending and picked your side.”

His eyes flicked over Sirius with open disdain.

“So you can imagine my disappointment to see you actually holding true to your word of coming in. I was looking forward to hunting you.”

Sirius only grinned back at him, all too happy to hit back. "Moody must have been running short on qualified aurors if he picked you to lead the hunt on me, Williamson."

"Remind me again, who brought in the Lestrange brothers? Oh that's right, I did."

"Getting lucky doesn't mean you're skilled. You ran in the opposite direction screaming bloody murder when my cousin attacked your squad, if I recall correctly. The same cousin who I brought in tonight, along with Crouch Jr. and now this," he shook Peter's arm, "piece of shit single-handedly. "

"So forgive me, Williamson, if I'm not exactly impressed."

Sirius took a warm delight in how the other man's eye started twitching out of sheer frustration. Sirius had spent almost sixteen years sharpening his tongue to survive in the Black family home. Williamson was little more than a slightly irritating mosquito.

The rhythmic thunk of Moody's staff echoed in the space as the man swiftly walked up to them. "You're late Black!"

"Still going to arrest me?"

Moody rested both hands on the staff, both eyes fixed on him with an unsettling intensity. "Depends on his," his left eye shifted to Pettigrew's, "testimony."

Sirius almost rolled his eyes and moved Peter's left arm into the sight. The faint outline of the dark mark was still visible. "I believe this might settle it." 

He also pulled out the two wands out, making sure everyone could see Voldemort's. "He also had this wand in his possession."

Moody's eyes flickered to the mark, then to the wand, and his scowl deepened into a look of sheer fury so fast that it gave even Sirius whiplash. Moody turned around and barked at Williamson. "What the hell are yeh waiting for, Williamson? Take these men and get out of here! You've got Death Eaters to catch. Don't return until each of you has caught at least two of them! Now scram!"

Williamson directed a look of disdain upon Sirius as he motioned the aurors to follow him out, as if it was his fault for Moody yelling at them. Sirius waved him a goodbye with his free hand.

Moody hobbled forward and grabbed Peter by the collar. "You've got nerve, rat. To pretend that you were one of us!"

Peter whimpered. He was already a nervous person by nature, but Mad-eye's....well, mad eyes had him moving his mouth without any sound coming out. Sirius wondered if he would disgrace himself right then and there.

With a sharp yank, he tore Peter from Sirius’s grasp and hauled him toward the lifts, half-dragging, half-carrying him. The wooden leg struck the tiles in a furious rhythm as he went, low muttered threats spilling out under his breath like a promise.

It took a particular kind of rage for Moody to handle a prisoner himself. He usually preferred distance, control. This was personal.

Moody’s reputation wasn’t just theatrics. There wasn’t a criminal alive who didn’t fear him at least a little. Most feared him a great deal.

Five minutes later, he was standing outside an interrogation room with Moody. Peter was cuffed to the table, and was fiddling with them. Mood stood beside him. "I'm still having trouble believing that Pettigrew of all the people was a Death Eater."

Sirius shrugged. "I suppose the saying is true: it's always the quiet ones."

Moody snorted. "Fair enough. Though he's going to be singing now that he knows he's going to Azkaban."

"Actually, do you mind taking his testimony yourself?"

He couldn't do it. Sirius thought he could, but after all that had happened tonight, he just wanted to lie down and sleep for a week. It was far too much. Moody must have seen the pain and exhaustion in his eyes, for he nodded. "I don't mind. Might even have some fun, after all. I know that Albus would be surprised to learn of this."

Oh, that reminded him. He needed to get to Harry. "Right then.....good luck."

He turned and headed back to the elevators. "Where are you going, Sirius?"

Sirius sighed, head hanging low. He really was tired of it all. "Harry is in Dumbledore's care. I gave him to Hagrid before I left Godric's hollow. I need to take him back."

"You can't."

Now he was getting annoyed. "Why not?"

"For one, it's three in the morning lad. Everyone usually sleeps around this time."

Sirius paused, and looked at his watch. Huh. It really was that late. He should probably wait for a couple of hours then. Might as well catch some sleep back in the apartment.

"And two, you look like you woke up from a coma and are about to go back into it."

Sirius returned a dry look. "Thanks, Mad-eye. That makes me feel so much better."

Moody gestured with a nod. "Catch some sleep in my office. It's closer, and no one will disturb ya."

Sirius didn't have time to voice his confusion over the offer before Moody opened the door and entered in, making Peter go completely pale. Sirius knew what was coming, and couldn't find an ounce of pity for him. 

He turned and left. If Moody was offering his sofa, then Sirius wasn't going to refuse.

The Head Auror's office was a spacious one, decorated well. Which is why it didn't suit Moody at all. Sirius was always catching the man muttering about how he needed to retire as fast as he could before they made him the next head of DMLE.

His sofa was a well used one. Comfortable, cushy. Sirius let himself fall right onto it. He was out before he even hit the cushions.

Amelia glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Then she glanced at her dear colleague, Sirius Black, sprawled face down on the couch in a position that strongly suggested either deep sleep or a dramatic interpretation of his own funeral.

She wondered how he was even breathing while sleeping like that. 

She wondered why he was sleeping in the Head Auror's office in the first place.

She considered herself a hard-working woman, someone who was willing to go above and beyond in order achieve her ambition of sitting in the office of the head of DMLE. She was a believer in the notion that law, when enforced, could bring the necessary order to their world.

Which was why she would volunteer to Moody to help with his paperwork at least twice a week.

Having arrived at the office early despite the late night that she had, she was determined to climb the ranks as fast as she could. Moody and her had an established practice. He would leave whatever paperwork he needed taking care of on the desk for Amelia to handle. Amelia would come in early two days of the week and finish the paperwork before her shift started.

She hadn't been expecting to find Sirius sprawled out on the couch.

She shook her head, continuing to complete the reports. If Moody had seen it fit to let Sirius sleep in his office, then she wasn't going to complain. She would use this as blackmail later though.

Sirius's form jerked, and her eyes flickered to him just in time to see him tumbling off the couch, limbs flailing. She snickered as he groaned, rubbing his head as he sat up. Yes, blackmail was the right word here. "Are you always this elegant in the morning?"

Sirius slowly turned back at the voice, eyes squinting as if she were miles away. When he spoke, it was as if he had drunk sand the previous night. "Amelia?"

"Good morning, Sirius."

Sirius yawned, and rubbed off the sleep from both of his eyes like a child. "What are you doing here?"

"Moody's paperwork."

Sirius sat slumped on the floor, eyes still shut as if trying to sleep while sitting straight. It was very childlike, very adorable. "Trying to become the youngest Head Auror, eh?"

Amelia rolled her eyes as she signed another form. "And what if I am?"

"Then good luck with the paperwork. And to answer your question, you'd know how I wake up if you had taken me up on my offer."

She didn't even skip a beat. "Keep dreaming, Black."

Sirius smiled a little as he finally chose to open his eyes and did a surprisingly flexible stretch down to his toes. It was apparent that he still hadn't fully woken up judging by his half-closed eyes. "Right well....carry on with the....your paperwork. I'm sure Moody would appreciate it."

He stood up and almost walked right into the filing cabinet beside the door. Amelia rolled her eyes and stood up, walking up to him and steadying him. "And where are you going in your glorious state?"

Sirius glared at her....or at least attempted to. To Amelia, he simply looked terribly drunk. "To get my godson. He's with," he motioned vaguely towards the window of all things, "Dumbledore."

She frowned. "You have a godson?"

"Yes, I do."

"Someone named you godfather of their child? You, of all people?"

Sirius frowned and straightened up, looking almost indignant. "And what's wrong with that?"

Amelia would rather not start. Her friend's fragile ego might get offended if she did. "Never mind that. Why is he with Dumbledore and not his parents?"

The air around Sirius changed dramatically, and Amelia immediately wanted to apologize. She knew she wasn't going to like the answer. Sirius muttered, not meeting her eyes. "Voldemort killed them last night."

She flinched at that name, and spared a moment to marvel at how easily Sirius could speak it. "I'm sorry that I asked."

Sirius shook his head. "Don't be. James and Lily sacrificed their lives so their son could live. I'd rather honour that bravery than despair in their untimely end."

That was quite the noble perspective. She frowned. "James and Lily....you're Harry Potter's godfather?! The boy-who-lived?!"

This time Sirius did look affronted. "Is that what they're calling him? Lame title if you ask me....and offensive. Harry lost both of his parents last night, and they want to celebrating it."

Amelia pitied the poor child. For the day when his parents died to the darkest wizard of recent times to be a remembered as a day of celebration....the wizarding world was seldom sensitive to such matters. "Not that I'm defending the press, but your godson did kill you-know-who. His death is a cause for celebration, if not Harry's parents'."

A shadow passed over Sirius's face. "His death....yeah right."

That....did not sound well. "Is there something that I should know, Sirius?"

The shadow passed, and Sirius shook his head. "No, just....forget it. I need to leave."

She grabbed him by the arm. "When you say 'yeah right' in that kind of tone to you-know-who's death, then I'm not just going to forget it. You don't believe it?"

Sirius sighed and gently removed her arm. "We can talk about what I do or do not believe later, Amelia. Right now, I need to go and collect my godson."

Amelia pursed her lips. Sirius didn't sound quite right when he spoke of you-know-who's death, and Amelia needed him to elaborate. It was a matter of saving lives, after all. Maybe she could do something to keep him here just a little longer.

She looked him from top to bottom, and tsked. "You really think you're in any state to go anywhere, much less Hogwarts?"

Sirius frowned and looked genuinely confused as he glanced at his clothes. "I don't see anything wrong, Amelia."

"Your breath stinks." She said bluntly, ignoring the offended look. "Your hair is all over the place, you haven't freshened up at all, you're still half-asleep, and I'm pretty sure I heard your stomach growling just moments ago."

Sirius waved her statements away as if batting a housefly. "You heard wrong. Besides, Dumbledore won't mind. I'll eat something at Hogwarts."

This time, she was the one who was offended at his nonchalance. "Men....do you not care about how you present yourself at all?"

Sirius was about to answer, when his stomach made its emptiness known. Loudly. Sirius's 'tough face', as he liked to call it, became harder to take seriously with the blush on it. 

Amelia grinned. "You were saying?"

Sirius stayed silent.

Amelia snapped her fingers and pointed towards the loo. "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll have an elf bring you something to eat. You can leave after that." 

Sirius slumped and prowled off towards the loo, not unlike an angsty teenager, muttering obscenities under his breath. Amelia distinctly felt for a moment as if she were handling a man-child.

She went back to Moody's- to be hers in the near future- chair and sat back down, calling for a ministry elf and asking him to bring in some sandwiches and some juice. She carefully thought about how she would open her questions. Sirius was a highly competent auror and while he was a prankster, he wouldn't joke regarding you-know-who's death like that. He knew something that others did not.

She intended to find out what.

Twenty minutes later, Sirius walked out of the loo looking much more awake and presentable. He'd cleaned up his clothes with a cleaning charm probably, and the five o' clock shadow was gone too. He swiftly tied up his silky hair into a half-bun as he exited the loo. "I'll admit, I did need to clean up. I didn't know I was looking like that."

Amelia certainly did not get jealous over the hair. No one's hair should be that cooperative in the morning, least of all Sirius Black's. No one should look that good in the morning with barely any effort, least of all Sirius Black.

No wonder he was so proud of his looks. He barely needed to work on them.

She shook her head and motioned him to sit down in front of her, where a tray filled with some grilled sandwiches and a glass of juice was kept. "Help yourself, and don't mention it."

Sirius sat down and with barely any ceremony, started wolfing down the sandwiches. Amelia watched with morbid fascination at how he finished a slice in three bites, and move on to the next one. It slipped out before she could stop it.

"A dog has better manners than you."

She wasn't expecting him to burst into snickers, hand barely coming up in time to stop the food from flying out of his mouth. She watched as he laughed so hard that it had him choking on the food. He thumped his chest hard, and still kept snickering as he drank the juice.

"I have a feeling that I missed the joke."

Sirius shook his head with the grin still in place. "You did."

Amelia scowled as he refused to speak further. Never mind, she needed to speak with him about more important things than a joke about a dog's manners. "Last night was bad, I take it?"

Sirius chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. "Not necessarily. Not in the way you're thinking."

"You crashed out on Moody's sofa. Something bad happened."

She could see from the glint in his eyes that he knew exactly what she was trying to do. Still, he put the glass down and answered. "I wouldn't say it was a bad night. I caught three Death Eaters by myself, including Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Jr."

To say she was surprised was an understatement. "You caught Bellatrix? And Crouch's son is a Death Eater?"

Sirius's smirk was full of well-earned smugness. "Yep."

The son of the head of DMLE being a Death Eater was going to have long-lasting consequences, not to mention the potential implications. She knew there was corruption in the ministry, but it was mostly centred around purebloods wanting to make things easier for themselves. It was selfish, and therefore predictable. 

To think that a terrorist organization had infiltrated the ministry to such a high extent.....Crouch's son himself held a secretarial position in the DMLE. The information that he might have passed on from within....no wonder the aurors were always a step behind. Who knew how many other moles were there in the other departments?

"Bloody hell."

Sirius hummed. "You might have learned it the first thing when you came in, but it probably got overshadowed by the news of Harry surviving the killing curse."

That made sense. It was the bigger news, after all. "You said you caught three Death Eaters. Who was the third?"

Sirius's cheer dropped like a rock, replaced by a scowl. "My former friend, Peter Pettigrew."

Amelia faintly remembered the man. She was two years ahead of Sirius in Hogwarts, but it hadn't taken long for the Marauders to gain their notoriety. Sirius, along with James Potter and Remus Lupin, had far too much fun brewing chaos throughout the school. Pettigrew was the fourth member of their group. Last she heard, he was fighting on Dumbledore's side. She grimaced; for a close friend such as Pettigrew to have switched sides.....no wonder Sirius looked angry.

"How did you find out he was a Death Eater? Couldn't have been easy, I imagine."

Sirius wiped his mouth and leaned back. "Pettigrew was the secret-keeper for James and Lily when they were hiding from Voldemort. Last night I remembered where James was hidden, which shouldn't have been possible considering the nature of the Fidelius charm. I knew right away that the charm had been broken, and only one person was capable of doing that."

"Everyone else thought that I was the secret-keeper instead of Peter, which is what we wanted. Only it almost led to my own arrest since we kept everyone in the dark."

That was....tragic. For James and Lily Potter to be betrayed by one of their closest friends. Voldemort had gone to kill the Potter family and succeeded two-thirds of the way, only to be stopped by a baby. It was a miracle.

And their secrecy almost led the finger to be pointed at Sirius instead of the actual culprit.

"You went there, I take it? To their home?"

Sirius nodded, a storm visible in his grey eyes. "I investigated the scene thoroughly. Peter was there to collect Voldemort's wand."

Amelia tapped the desk with her fingers, gears turning. Sirius must have gone to the Potter home to secure his godson and find out if there was anything he could use to track down his former friend. "You investigated the scene and found evidence of Pettigrew being there. That means you tracked him down after that?"

As an auror, Amelia had to admit that Sirius had a great night. Catching Voldemort's right hand woman, as well as two of his moles that nobody had ever suspected, let alone known about by himself? Sirius might very well get an Order of Merlin for this.....and a fast-track to Head Auror, she admitted with a wince. 

As a friend though, he indeed had a terrible night.

Sirius folded his hands across his lap. "I did, after I passed Harry into Hagrid's care. Hagrid took him to Dumbledore, which reminds me...."

He stood up, clapping his hands. "Thanks for taking care of me Amelia, but I really must be off. Lots to do today."

Amelia sputtered. She hadn't even gotten to the part of Sirius doubting Voldemort's death. "Wait! I haven't finished."

"Oh, but I am."

“Oi! Absolutely not,” Amelia snapped, half-rising from her chair. “What about your shift? You are still employed here, in case you’ve forgotten mister!”

"Be a sweetheart and tell Moody that I'm taking today and tomorrow off, would you? He trusts my judgement. Deeply. Bye Amelia!"

He even had the audacity to blow her a kiss before disappearing around the corner.

Amelia stared at the empty doorway for a long, disbelieving moment before collapsing back into her chair with a long-suffering sigh. She rubbed her temples.

She honestly couldn’t decide which was worse: dealing with Sirius Black if he was her Head Auror, or dealing with Sirius Black if she was his.

Sirius appeared in Hogsmeade with a soft pop. He smiled at the bustling village, making his way to the castle through the crowd. Normally students took carriages from school to Hogsmeade and back in a twenty minute trip, but Sirius could use the walk. He needed to get his thoughts in order first.

He would probably know about Peter by now from Hagrid and if Hagrid hadn't managed to convince him (he severely doubted that), then Moody must have already informed him by now.

He also needed to inform Dumbledore of Voldemort's not-death. 

Sirius sighed, shaking away the possibility. How did one even survive the killing curse? It was probably because Sirius was the only one who knew it that no one else would pay attention, but Harry wasn't the only survivor of the killing curse. He was just the youngest.

Voldemort survived it too. 

He almost tripped when the tail of his auror robe got caught on a branch. Cursing, he glared at the cloth. Why did wizards have such terrible fashion sense? Why did everything have to be so flowy?

His wand slid into his hand and with a wave, he transfigured his robes to a simple shirt, jeans, and a trench coat. He silently thanked Lily for the day she had introduced him to muggle clothing. Simple, fashionable, and functional. Was that so difficult to take inspiration from?

No, wizards would die before they ever admitted muggles were ahead of them in anything. Sirius was all too happy to wear muggle clothes in front of those uppity purebloods, and especially his family. Anything to spit in their faces.

Soon, the gates of the school came into view. He could see students who had no classes roaming the grounds and some were even napping on the grass. He smiled, a tinge of nostalgia settling in. His own school days were some of the best of his life. The days where they had no responsibility except to be purveyors of mischief and chaos. 

Some students caught sight of him and began whispering amongst themselves. Sirius waved, and grinned when they quickly turned around and walked away having been caught. Teenagers really thought they were subtle with their whispering and their pointed fingers.

Not that most adults were especially competent.

Hagrid's hut came into view, and Sirius smiled as he saw his motorcycle parked just outside. That machine was a thing of beauty. He'd have to ask Hagrid if he had a smooth ride, or whether it was making any unusual noise. Neither Sirius nor James had rode it in a long time, so there might be some maintenance to be done on it.

He knocked on the giant door of the hut. "Hagrid! It's me, Sirius!"

Sirius waited, but no reply came. He frowned, and tried to open the door. It glided open, revealing the empty space of the hut. There was no sign of his friend nor of Harry. Sirius pursed his lips and closed the door as he left. 

Hagrid must have been out for work, which meant Dumbledore must have kept Harry in his personal care.

To the headmaster's office then.

The corridors of Hogwarts had remain unchanged for almost a thousand years now. They certainly weren't going to change from the last time Sirius had roamed in them. Only the students roaming these halls had changed. 

He arrived at the gargoyle and froze. Shit, there was a password to this, wasn't it?

As far as he remembered, Dumbledore preferred his passwords to be muggle and magical candies and sweets. "Lemon sherbet."

Nothing.

"Chocolate frogs."

"Acid Pops."

"Bertie botts."

"Kitkat."

"Sugar quills."

"Good morning Mr. Black."

That stern voice could only belong to one person. Sirius grimaced; he had left school years ago yet every time he talked to his old professor he felt as if a detention was coming. "Professor McGonagall."

She came to a stop, eyes boring into his. "May I ask what you're doing saying names of random sweets in front of the Headmaster's gargoyle?"

Trust McGonagall to come right to the point sounding as if no matter the answer he was getting a detention. "I came here to collect my godson, professor. There's also something I need to tell him about what happened last night."

As soon as he said the first statement, McGonagall blinked and for a moment Sirius could have sworn that his old teacher looked guilty. She broke eye contact and looked to the side with a frown. "Oh, I see. In that case, Mr. Black," she turned to the gargoyle, "Taz Bar."

Sirius blinked as the gargoyle moved aside. "That's a chocolate?"

McGonagall was still not meeting his eyes, and that was starting to make him concerned, but she answered anyway. "You'll find that the headmaster is quite the avid collector of muggle sweets. He knows of many that we do not know of."

"Oh....well, thanks Professor."

Just as Sirius was about to walk up the stairs, she called him again. "Sirius."

He turned, puzzled. McGonagall rarely ever called him by his first name. "Yes professor?"

McGonagall stood very still, her lips pressed thin, as though arranging her words with the same care she gave to a complicated Transfiguration. Guilt did not sit easily on her; it showed in the rigid set of her shoulders.

At last, she met his eyes.

“We all believed you were James and Lily’s Secret Keeper,” she said, her voice steady but quieter than usual. “After what happened last night, I…” She paused, visibly bracing herself. “I am ashamed to admit that I was among those who thought you had betrayed us.”

The words seemed to cost her something.

“I realized my error when Hagrid brought Harry to us and told us the truth. Nevertheless, it does not change the fact that I believed you capable of serving You-Know-Who, despite the faith they placed in you.” Her gaze did not waver. “Will you forgive me?”

Sirius stared at her.

It was not often he found himself caught off guard by McGonagall, but he had never imagined hearing her apologize to anyone, let alone him. Pride had always been one of her defining traits, worn as neatly as her tartan robes.

And yet here she stood, owning her mistake without excuse or evasion.

The sincerity of it warmed him more than he expected. Few adults he knew possessed the courage to admit they had been wrong. Fewer still would ask for forgiveness outright.

Sirius held her gaze, shoulders squared a touch too rigidly, as if bracing for something sharper than her words.

“You don’t owe me an apology, Professor,” he said, voice even, though not quite relaxed. “With what you were probably told… it was the reasonable conclusion.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, an old schoolboy posture returning without his noticing.

“I’ve never denied I can be reckless. I’ve made more than a few questionable choices in my time.” A faint breath escaped him, not quite a laugh. “But I was never that.”

The words came firmer than he intended.

“But it did hurt,” he admitted, quieter now. “Knowing how quickly everyone believed it. Knowing James and Lily aren't even cold yet and I’d already been sorted into the villain of the story.”

He met her gaze again, steady and sincere.

“So… yes. I forgive you. There’s nothing to forgive, really. You made the best call you could with what you had.”

A small pause.

“And for what it’s worth, it means more than you probably think that you said it.”

He was rewarded with a small, genuine smile from the stern witch. She gave tight nod and unless he was mistaken, her eyes were a little misty as well. "You've grown well, Mr. Black. If only it had happened while you were still a student of these halls."

That brought out a much more unguarded smile from him. "Where would have been the fun in that, professor?"

McGonagall smiled and walked ahead up the stairs. Sirius frowned, but followed her anyway. "Uh, professor? I was rather hoping to talk with him alone. Not that your presence isn't appreciated," he hastily added. 

"I'm afraid that regarding Harry, things are slightly more complicated than you think, Mr. Black."

Concern rose in him. "Is he alright? Is this about his scar? I did detect traces of dark magic in it. What did Dumbledore say?"

She knocked on the door. "I'm sure he will tell you himself. And there's the matter of his living arrangements as well."

"There is?"

Truth to be told, that matter had already been sorted out by James and Lily with him well before they had gone into hiding. He was Harry's oath-sworn godfather so naturally, in their absence, he would be Harry's legal guardian and therefore, Harry would be growing up with him. What was there to talk about?

She opened the door and walked inside, Sirius following her and closing it behind him. The headmaster's office looked as grandly academic as it ever did. The shelves were still there, as were the countless books. Portraits of headmasters who had held the post previously adorned the walls and one particular portrait caught his attention, as it always did whenever he entered the office.

"Ah, the worst disgrace of my family is here once more."

Sirius grinned. He was more amused than hurt by Phineas Nigellas Black's verbal barbs now. "At least I had the decency to disappoint the living, rather than hang myself on a wall and call it an achievement."

He laughed when his ancestor broke into yelling obscenities. "Try not to yell too much lest you give yourself a heart attack. Oh wait! You're already dead. Can you still die if you're a portrait?"

Phineas Black went into a solid crescendo of insults at that, and what was better was that Sirius's open disrespect had some of the other portraits look down at him from their spots. 

Clearly McGonagall wasn't happy because she remarked. "I take back what I said about your growth, Mr. Black."

Sirius just pointed back at his ancestor's portrait. "He started it."

He resisted on laughing at her disappointed look. He'd used that line so many times back when he was a student, from first to seventh year. It had stopped working after his fifth year, but that didn't stop him from trying.

That was when Dumbledore walked into view atop the stairs. For some reason, he seemed to believe that neon orange robes with twinkling yellow stars was the latest fashion sense for aging wizards. It hurt Sirius's eyes to look at him for long. 

"As charming as ever, Sirius, but please do refrain from poking fun at Phineas. It does take me a while to calm him down when he gets started."

Sirius dryly returned. "I'll keep that in mind, professor."

Dumbledore waved his hand and all the portraits froze. He walked down with an ease that belayed his age. "I must say that it is quite a pleasant surprise to see you in Hogwarts this morning, Sirius. Though I believe I already know what you wish to talk to me about."

He shrugged, sitting down in the chair in front of the desk. "I'd say it was rather obvious, wasn't it?"

Dumbledore smiled, as if enjoying a secret. "Quite."

He then turned to McGonagall. "Thank you for escorting Sirius here, Minerva. You may leave us."

McGonagall cleared her throat. "On the contrary, headmaster, I believe my presence will be beneficial to the conversation that you are about to have with Mr. Black."

Dumbledore's eyebrows slightly rose in surprise, and his eyes flickered to Sirius. Sirius shrugged again. "I don't have an issue with her staying."

Dumbledore smiled, and nodded as if Sirius had thrilled him in some manner. "Splendid. Please have a seat, Minerva."

McGonagall sat down besides him, and three cups and saucers as well as a teapot levitated into view, pouring each of them a cup. "Tea?"

Sirius waved his away. "No thank you. I take it Hagrid told you everything?"

Dumbledore nodded, the cheer dropping from his eyes as he took a sip. "Indeed. I must say that it was quite the extraordinary tale. I myself hadn't known that you had switched secret-keepers."

Sirius nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable at the gaze but held his ground. Dumbledore didn't need to say anything to convey his disappointment at not being involved in such an important decision. "Well, it was our intention to let as few people as possible. We didn't even tell Remus."

The aged wizard nodded. "Indeed, and while I can understand your intentions, it would have been beneficial for you if I, as you youngsters say, was kept in the know. It would have saved you the hassle of going after Peter last night to prove your innocence."

Sirius grimaced, scratching his neck with his finger. He still hadn't completely come to terms with the betrayal. "I take it Moody told you about last night?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Rather comprehensively, I must say. It's the reason I have been up since four in the morning. Alastor is a very dear friend, but he tends to get rather excited when it comes to bringing me up to speed with recent happenings."

Sirius nodded slowly. What does one even say to that?

"It also had the benefit of confirming Hagrid's version of events. It brought me quite the relief."

Sirius frowned. "You didn't believe Hagrid when he told you the truth?"

Dumbledore looked at him with a small smile. "I trust Hagrid with my life, Sirius. However, one cannot be too cautious in these times."

Sirius could believe that. 

Dumbledore raised his cup to him, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “On a brighter note, allow me to offer my sincerest congratulations on last night’s accomplishments. You duelled and apprehended Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr., the latter of whom, I confess, even I had not suspected of being a Death Eater. You also prevented what would have been a most tragic fate for Frank and Alice Longbottom.”

His gaze softened. “Because of your actions, Neville will grow up with his parents. That is no small thing.”

“And, of course, you managed to locate and capture Peter Pettigrew. All within the span of a single night. Few Aurors could claim such a record, Sirius.”

Sirius felt heat creeping up his collar. He shifted slightly under the weight of their attention, suddenly finding the grain of the wooden floor intensely fascinating.

“Indeed?” McGonagall said, brows lifting. There was open surprise in her expression now, and something like pride. She raised her glass toward him. “That is an extraordinary achievement. My congratulations as well, Sirius.”

If the floor had opened beneath him, Sirius would have welcomed it.

Praise had always sat poorly on his shoulders, and hearing it from former professors made it worse somehow. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare, unguarded gesture.

“I was only doing my duty,” he muttered at last, gaze still firmly averted.

Dumbledore chuckled and put his cup down. "Quite so. And speaking of," he leaned forward, "there are a few things I would like to know."

Sirius nodded, glad for the shift of the topic. 

"Can you tell me what exactly did you find when you arrived at Godric's Hollow, and how you managed to track down Peter Pettigrew?"

Starting with the big shots. Sirius appreciated that. He pulled out his wand. "It would be better if you saw it with your own eyes, professor."

He put it to his temple, indicating what he wanted to do. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise, but with a motion of his hand his pensieve came floating from the cabinet it resided. It landed gently on the table. 

Sirius concentrated on last night's memory and slowly pulled it out with his wand, feeling the slightest haze that accompanied a memory withdrawal. He put it into the pensieve, and stepped back. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not revisit it."

Dumbledore nodded and turned to the third occupant of the room. "Minerva?"

McGonagall pursed her lips, clearly not excited about seeing the memory. But she stood up anyway. "Might as well."

They both touched the surface of the pensieve, and he saw their eyes glaze over indicating that their consciousness had been pulled into the memory. He sat down to wait. 

Fifteen minutes might have passed when Dumbledore and McGonagall returned to consciousness. The former looked rather contemplative as he took his seat, showing little sign of being disturbed after witnessing the memory.

McGonagall on the other hand looked visibly shaken. There was a tremor in the voice as she addressed Dumbledore. "Albus....that couldn't possibly mean...."

"As much I would like to believe in the contrary, I'm afraid it does mean exactly that, Minerva," Dumbledore commented, fingers folded in front of him. He sounded quite grave as he eyed Sirius, but Sirius could tell that his mind was a thousand miles away trying to figure out the how of it. 

"I had my suspicions when he spoke of having achieved immortality during one of our confrontations. I wasn't inclined to believe his claims....until I saw Sirius's memory." He nodded towards Sirius. "Exceptional investigative work, by the way."

McGonagall's hand rose to her mouth in horror. "Then....what should we do, Albus? He must be preparing to regain his physical body, to come back!"

Dumbledore waved a hand, trying to dispense her worry. "While that is indeed a possibility, regaining a physical body is by no means, a simple task. The magic required to achieve that is extremely dark in nature, not to mention highly obscure. He will need to find the knowledge first. If he doesn't collapse first, that is."

Sirius frowned. "Collapse?"

Dumbledore nodded. "From what I saw, Voldemort is little less than a spirit as of now. Barely clinging to life, as it is. A wraith cannot maintain its structural integrity for long by itself. If he does not find a sustainable, if only a temporary form, fast, then even his spirit will not survive for long. And given the extremely toxic nature of Voldemort's magic, I doubt there exists any creature that can play host to it for more than a few hours.

"As it stands, this is checkmate to Voldemort."

Sirius nodded, feeling a weight lift off from his shoulders. That brought him much relief. "So what's our next move?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Move on with our lives."

"....come again?"

The aged wizard smiled. "Move on with our lives. We cannot forever worry ourselves over a mere probability of his return. Yes, we shall be on the lookout for anything that might point to it, but I see no reason to not look forward and focus on rebuilding our lives.

"The war is effectively over, Sirius. It is time to look forward now, instead of over our shoulders."

McGonagall was not so relieved. "You're implying that we do nothing?!"

"Minerva, please don't be alarmed. I will do everything in my power to ensure that the means that Voldemort will now seek to regain his physical form, if they exist anywhere, forever remain out of his reach."

Sirius could see that McGonagall wasn't completely relieved, but she would take his word for it. He cleared his throat. "Now that that is settled, there is the matter of my godson."

Dumbledore's smile dimmed a little. "Indeed. As you instructed Hagrid to tell me about it, I did check the scar. You were right, Sirius. There were indeed traces of dark magic in it, specifically the Killing curse."

Sirius leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. "Is there anything we can do about it? I don't like the idea that my godson will have to live with dark magic in his head."

Dumbledore shook his head. "While it is indeed dark magic, my scans revealed that the dark magic has become....dormant. It was quite weak to begin with. As it stands, Harry is in no immediate danger from it."

"Dormant? You mean it can become active in the future again?"

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "Not by itself, I believe. And not unless very specific circumstances are met under very specific conditions, the chances of which occurring I believe to be miniscule, at best.

"In fact, it is very much possible that with time, Harry's own magic will cleanse the scar of the dark magic."

"So Harry's safe?"

Dumbledore looked at him for a long moment and just as Sirius wanted to believe the answer was negative, he nodded. "Yes. He is safe."

Sirius let out a quiet exhale at that. Harry was safe. Voldemort was just about gone, and Harry was safe.

McGonagall spoke up, looking speculative. "Albus, do you know how, exactly, did Harry manage to reflect back the killing curse?"

Yes, that was a good question. Sirius wanted to know the answer as well. Dumbledore didn't anything for a few moments, but he smiled when he did. "I believe it was love."

Trust Dumbledore to confuse everyone with a single, mundane word. McGonagall wasn't faring much better. "Can you please elaborate?"

Dumbledore inclined his head thoughtfully, then rose from his chair and began to pace the length of the office, hands folded neatly behind his back. "Love is one of the purest forms of magic that exists. I believe that it was Lily's love that saved Harry from dying from Voldemort's killing curse."

He turned toward them then, and there was a rare intensity in his eyes, a bright, almost fervent light that surfaced only when he spoke of the subjects dearest to him. 

“Love is not easily wielded,” he continued. “It does not bend to incantation or wand movement. There are, however, a handful of circumstances in which it may manifest with… remarkable potency.”

His gaze sharpened. “One of those is an unconditional sacrifice.”

The words settled heavily in the room. “Lily chose to give her life for her son, not as a bargain, nor in defiance, but out of unalloyed love. A willing, unconditional sacrifice. That act conferred upon Harry a protection so ancient and profound that Voldemort, for all his power, could not overcome it.”

Dumbledore’s voice lowered slightly.

“It was that protection which rebounded the curse. And in attempting to destroy the child, he ensured his own destruction.”

Sirius swallowed heavily at the explanation. Lily's sacrifice was not something he had fully accepted yet, along with James's death and from the looks of it, neither had Dumbledore or McGonagall. 

Sirius felt his own eyes tearing up and hastily wiped them. "Lily was the brightest of us, after all."

McGonagall sniffed, and Dumbledore gently wiped a tear that had escaped from his own eye. "Indeed Lily was."

Sirius cleared his throat. "Now that that's over with professor, if you'll return Harry to me, we shall be on our way."

As soon as he said it, the air changed. Now both the professors avoided his eyes. Dumbledore coughed in the way that he was going to try and justify a complicated situation. Sirius was intimately familiar with it, having used it in his school years.

He discovered that he hated it when someone tried that on him. 

Dumbledore spoke first. "Harry is safe, Sirius. You have nothing to worry about."

Sirius nodded slowly. "We established that. Now return him to me, so we can be on our way."

This time McGonagall cleared her throat. Sirius felt his hackles rise up even more. "Mr. Black....Harry is not at Hogwarts."

".....that had better not be a joke, professor."

Dumbledore looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. McGonagall wasn't faring much better, looking guilty again. "I have placed Harry in an environment where his protection will be guaranteed."

Sirius was starting to see that all Dumbledore was giving him were non-answers. "And that place is....?"

".....I have placed Harry under the care of Lily's sister, his aunt Petunia."

Sirius tried, he really tried to keep his anger in check. Though he might not have been entirely successful in that regard. "And what exactly gave you that right, professor?"

He might as well have spoken the last word in parseltongue.

Dumbledore held up his hands in the universal gesture of asking Sirius to calm down. "She is Harry's last living blood relative, Sirius. I have used that connection to put specific wards in place that will protect Harry from Voldemort and his followers should they attempt to pursue him."

Sirius had gotten out of his seat now. That explanation might have satisfied everyone else, but he wasn't just everyone else. "You didn't answer my question, professor. I asked you, by whose authority did you decide to place Harry there? I know that Hagrid told you to keep Harry with you until I returned for him, didn't he?"

"....he did."

"And do you know that James and Lily appointed me as Harry's godfather?"

"....I do."

"Then you know what that means in this context."

".....Sirius, you have to understand that-"

"You had no right."

That effectively silenced Dumbledore. His eyes were pleading for Sirius to understand why he did so, but Sirius couldn't find it in himself to listen to him this time. 

McGonagall finally chose to speak up. "I'm afraid have to agree with Mr. Black this time, Albus. I was sceptical of your actions in the first place, but I did not contest them for you were doing so keeping his best interests in mind, and that you convinced me that Mr. Black will come to understand."

Sirius whipped around to glare at her now. "You knew, and didn't say anything, professor?"

McGonagall looked down in shame. "I tried to tell him that we should wait for you. I tried to tell him that the Dursleys are the worst sort of muggles imaginable-"

"Damn right they are!"

He whipped back to glare at Dumbledore. "You know professor, I may not fully accept your methods of guiding us through the war, but I can respect that more often than not they worked in our favour. What I do have an issue with, is that you tend to miss sometimes that not even you are always right!"

The last words ended up in a shout, and Sirius must have really been right for not even his old head of house reprimanded him. "You did not have the right to decide where Harry would stay! That belongs to me! His oath-sworn godfather!"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a scathing whisper. "Now I know that Lily made it clear that should anything were to happen to them, Harry was to be placed under my care. Under no circumstances, was he to be placed with her sister!"

"You knew that, and you ignored her wishes anyway because surely Albus Dumbledore is never wrong."

He spoke with so much scorn that Dumbledore flinched, if only slightly. "Sirius, I can understand why you're upset, and I agree that I have overstepped my boundaries. But you have to understand that I did not do so without reason. Harry's protection-"

"Is up to me. Do you know, Dumbledore, why Lily asked specifically for Harry not to be sent to Petunia?"

"....I believe it's because she shared a difficult relationship with her sister."

Sirius mockingly laughed. "Say it the way it is, Dumbledore. Petunia hated Lily. She couldn't stand her. Do you know what she said when Lily and James went to invite her family to their wedding?"

He leaned in. "Word to word, they told James and Lily to fuck off, and never bother them again. Otherwise, they won't hesitate in calling the police on them freaks."

McGonagall gasped behind them. "Surely not!"

Sirius nodded without turning back. "Yep. That's the family you just placed my godson in."

Dumbledore looked properly guilty now, and dared not meet Sirius's eyes. McGonagall had finally seemed to have found her courage, because she walked right up to him and hissed. "I told you, Albus! I told you they were the worst sort of muggles, and you didn't listen to me!"

Sirius felt a little better at having her on his side, but she had been a little too late. "Tell me where they are, and I will collect Harry from them."

Sirius shook his head. "My only concern is Harry. I couldn't care less about Petunia and her family. If you feel so strongly about it, then you can place them under your protection. Harry will be coming home with me."

Dumbledore's look of disappointment passed over him like a breeze. "The address is Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

Sirius tilted his head. "Thank you."

He started walking away, but stopped before he opened the door. "Did you ever think that they might not have needed the protection in the first place?"

He turned around, catching their furrowed expressions. "Petunia and her family were perfectly unknown in our world. Did you not think that by placing Harry with them, you might have directed previously ignored attention towards them?"

Seeing the flicker of surprise in Dumbledore's eyes, Sirius huffed and left the office. "Food for thought!"

Privet drive was a suburban neighbourhood with rows of identical houses on either side.

Sirius slowed down on his motorcycle as he arrived at the Dursley house. Number 4, Privet Drive looked exactly like the sort of place that would boast about its matching curtains.

Sirius stood at the end of the pavement and stared at the row of identical houses, each one pressed primly against the next, as though terrified of standing out. Neatly trimmed hedges. Polished windows. Lawns cut to millimetre precision. It was the architectural equivalent of clearing one’s throat before speaking and then deciding not to.

Four bedrooms on the first floor, one kitchen, one dining and living room on the ground floor. Perfectly systematic.

It was unbearably… beige.

Even Grimmauld Place, with all its darkness and ancestral hostility, had possessed character. It loomed. It brooded. It made no apologies for existing. This place, by contrast, seemed to apologize preemptively for everything, including breathing.

He could not imagine James lasting ten minutes here without attempting to charm the garden gnomes into tap dancing.

And Dumbledore wanted Harry to spend his childhood here. 

He snorted, getting off of his bike. Hell would freeze over before Sirius let Harry grow up without knowing the joys of magic.

The turtleneck was black, close-fitting without being tight, the fabric smooth and unadorned. It softened the sharp lines of his frame while still giving him a lean, composed silhouette. Over it, he wore a dark blazer, tailored enough to sit cleanly on his shoulders. The trousers matched in tone, charcoal bordering on black, falling neatly over polished shoes that made no unnecessary statement.

Sirius thought he'd fit in with the muggles quite well based on his sense of clothing.

He walked up to the door and pressed the doorbell, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his pocket.

"One moment please!"

He had promised himself to be on his best behaviour, if only for Lily's sake. But it was hard not to groan in irritation when he heard the overly saccharine voice from behind the door. 

He hadn't forgotten what this bitch had said to Lily and James.

The door opened and Petunia came into view. Petunia was quite tall for a woman, probably an inch taller than even him. While Sirius appreciated height in a woman, Petunia unfortunately couldn't back her height up with the proper looks. In fact, she looked like the human cousin of a starved horse with an unusually long neck.

Sirius had only met her once and it had resulted in a shouting match so intense that James and Lily had to pull him and Petunia away respectively. She was the only muggle that Sirius had come closest to cursing out of sheer spite.

"May I help you, sir?"

Sirius blinked. Had she really forgotten him? Oh well, time for unpleasant re-introductions.

"Petunia, it's me," he pointed at his face with a frown, "Sirius Black."

He almost laughed at how her pleasant expression changed to a scowl in an instant. It was like watching a cartoon in real life. "You!"

"Yes, me," he deadpanned.

"What are you doing here?!"

Wow, just his presence had her hair standing up. "Even I'm not exactly thrilled to be here, Petunia. I'm here to collect Harry. May I come inside?"

Instead of replying, Petunia chose to attempt to slam the door in his place. Rude.

Sirius quickly stopped the door from shutting with his foot. "Now, is that any way to treat a guest?"

She hissed like a cat. "Go away!"

"Not without Harry."

Petunia nervously looked around behind Sirius and for a moment, he was worried that it was the police. But a look behind told him that the commotion was being observed by some of their neighbours, who were clearly talking about them. 

"Alright fine!"

She opened the door fully. "Come inside fast!"

Sirius obliged. Stepping in, Petunia shut the door behind him briskly. "Why are you here?"

Did he not just tell her? Had she gone deaf or something?

A man's voice came from the behind the transparent door that probably lead to the kitchen. "Who is it, Pet?"

Sirius fought the urge to snicker. Her husband's nickname for her was pet? Compared to his own, it was utterly unimaginative. 

The door opened, Sirius fought to gape at the utter....thing, of a man that emerged from the living room. This was her husband? And she had the gall to insult Lily in her choice of men.

Petunia nervously stepped closer to her husband, skirting around Sirius as if he were infectious. "Vernon, this is....one of my sister's friends that I told you about."

It was rather fascinating to see how quickly the man's entire face went from white to red. He spoke quite heatedly. "Your kind is not welcome in this house! I demand that you leave at once, sir!"

Holy Merlin, now Sirius was starting to get annoyed. "I will once you have returned my godson to me." 

Didn't they understand that he was trying to, quite literally, take a load off their hands?

Vernon Dursley lost some of his anger, and shared a nervous look with his wife. She then turned to Sirius, trying to put up a brave face. "That headmaster of yours said we had to take care of him, and in turn we will be protected."

Sirius released a breath, trying to remain patient. "The headmaster," he heavily emphasized the word, "had no right to place Harry under your roof. In fact, Lily had quite clearly expressed that as Harry's oath-sworn godfather, he will be placed under my care should anything were to happen to her and James."

"But what about our protection?"

"You don't need protection."

That had Vernon spluttering, and Petunia looking an odd mix of hopeful and afraid. "W-We don't?"

Sirius shook his head. "Not at all. In fact, Harry's presence might attract attention that you don't have the ability to fend off. The wizarding world doesn't know of you, but if Harry were to remain here, they will."

By now, Vernon was looking quite thoughtful. That expression didn't sit well on his beefy face. "When you put it that way...."

Sirius tapped his feet impatiently. He did not have time for this muggle's drama. He started making his way up the stairs, ignoring their indignant stuttering. "You don't have to trouble yourselves. Just tell me which room Harry is in. I'll collect him and we'll be on our way."

For the second time, they shared a look between themselves. This one carried more anxiety than before, and perhaps a hint of guilt? Sirius didn't like that.

Petunia cleared her throat, trying her best to meet Sirius's eyes. She gestured him towards the front door. "If you'll wait outside a moment, I'll fetch Harry for you."

That....didn't sound well. Sirius slowly made his way down the stairs. She was hiding something. "Where is Harry?"

While Petunia tried to herd him towards the door with weak platitudes, Sirius happened to glance behind her at Vernon. Vernon had glanced at the cupboard under the stairs, then back Sirius. Then he did it again.

A cold feeling settled in his gut as Sirius realized the implication of that unconscious behaviour. He pushed past Petunia and opened the cupboard in one smooth motion, freezing in his tracks once he glimpsed inside it.

There, on a makeshift cot, lay Harry asleep. He was still wrapped in the blanket that Sirius had put around him last night. There were some other objects kept in there, but judging from the dust inside, the cupboard hadn't been touched for a long time. There was no light inside either.

Sirius did not attempt to look in further to see if it was comfortable. He did not need to.

Fury pressed hard against the thin veneer of Sirius’s restraint as he turned his gaze on her. “You put your sister’s child,” he said slowly, each word precise, “in a cupboard.”

For a flicker of a second, Petunia’s composure cracked. Guilt flashed across her face before she gathered it back up, wrapping herself in brittle indignation.

“It’s only temporary,” she insisted, lifting her chin. “Until we arrange something more suitable.”

Sirius did not trust himself to respond immediately. Ordinarily, he respected the sanctity of another person’s mind. But this was no ordinary circumstance.

His focus sharpened.

In the space of a breath, he saw it. Not inconvenience. Not hurried improvisation. Irritation. Resentment. The cold certainty that his boy would be tucked away where the disruption to her neat and tidy world would be minimal.

His hand snapped up, finger pointing at her before she could draw another breath. His voice, when he spoke, was terrifyingly calm.

“So your solution was to hide him in a dusty cupboard.”

His eyes hardened.

“And don’t insult me with that lie, Petunia. You meant for it to stay that way.”

"Get away from my wife!"

Sirius heard him move before he saw him. In one swift motion, Sirius turned and ducked low, his fist colliding with the point beneath Vernon's breastbone. The man's punch was too slow to reach him. 

Petunia shrieked as Vernon fell on his back, almost folding in half. The noise was loud enough to raise Harry from his sleep, and he began crying from within the cupboard. Sirius hurriedly reached inside and carefully picked him up. His wand slid into his hand and cast a silencing charm on them both. It was a good thing because Petunia utterly lost it at the sight of his wand and yelled.

With no sound. Then she paused, horror encompassing her face as she patted her mouth and throat. Then she yelled again.

He put it away. "Don't worry, it's only a silencing charm. It'll wear off in an hour by its own," he said, rocking Harry gently. He felt a little bad about using magic to put Harry back to sleep again, but it was better if Harry woke up in a safe environment than here. He put a silencing charm around him to be safe.

Sirius could only handle one at a time, and right now he needed to conclude his business with the Dursleys.

He locked eyes with Petunia. He had intended to be civil throughout, no matter what she said to him. But now all the bets were off. "You know Petunia, for all that you hated your sister, Lily never once spoke anything bad about you."

The mentioning of her sister had Petunia frozen, and he could see that her eyes were slightly moist. "Had anything happened to you and your husband, and your son passed into her care, she wouldn't have hesitated in treating him as one of her own. She was just that kind."

"But you're not, are you?" Sirius didn't care if she felt bad at this point. She fully deserved this. “You’re selfish. Jealous. Hateful. You’ve carried that bitterness since the day Lily got her Hogwarts letter and you didn’t.” His jaw tightened. “You hated her for being born with something you weren’t.”

“I wonder,” he went on, the words sharp and controlled, “did you even grieve when you heard she was dead? Or did some part of you feel vindicated?”

She shook her head frantically, but he pressed on.

“When Dumbledore left Harry here, you saw an opportunity. A way to settle a score with someone who can’t defend herself anymore.”

"You decided to punish your sister....through her son."

His lip curled with disgust. “I’ve known petty witches and wizards,” he said. “People who’ve done awful things out of pride or fear.”

He shook his head. "You've managed to make them look generous."

That was the last straw, being compared with the people she and her husband considered freakish and coming out worse. She soundlessly sobbed into her hands, kneeling on the floor beside her husband who had yet to get his breath back.

He turned and walked to the door, opening it and stepping outside. Before closing it, he looked back and spoke to them one last time. "If anything, I pity your son that he has to grow up with you and your husband as his parents."

With that, he left, closing the door behind him. 

He smiled at the sight of his godson curling into his chest. He looked up, taking a moment to rest against his bike. 

A lot had happened since last night. Most of it bad, some of it good. His closest friends were either dead, imprisoned, or alienated. Sirius intended to make up with the last one.

He'd saved two people from being forever separated from their son. He'd saved Harry from becoming a product of an abusive household.

Whatever lay forward, Sirius would make sure that Harry had the opportunities to make only the happiest of memories. 

"Come on, Harry. It's time to go home."