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The effects of Veritaserum took some time to wear off, and Sirius still felt the compulsion to tell the truth in all things as he traveled to Hogwarts following his interrogation into James and Lily’s deaths and Pettigrew’s eventual escape. He was thankful the interrogating wizards had been willing to use the potion on him when he requested it – at the beginning, they had been bound and determined to treat him as the guilty party, not only for James and Lily, but for Pettigrew as well.
That could have gone a lot worse. He shuddered to think of the consequences of the crimes for which he had been accused. A lifetime in Azkaban, most likely. And then who would take care of Harry and the rest of James and Lily’s affairs, not even withstanding the waste of his own life?
Harry can’t go live with those Muggles, he thought as he flew his motorbike north. He can’t be separated from his heritage, and he can’t be expected to be a part of a family that rejected his mother because she was a witch and married a wizard. He had told Dumbledore as much when he was about to leave the baby on the doorstep – the doorstep! – of the house on Privet Drive, but it had only been the irrefutable fact that James and Lily had wanted Sirius to take Harry in the event of their deaths that had stayed the old wizard’s hand. Dumbledore had taken Harry to Hogwarts instead, saying only that he would wait until Sirius had cleared his name before making a final decision on Harry’s fate.
Sirius had done as he had been asked to – with the use of Veritaserum at his interrogation, he had managed to convince the Aurors of the switch in the Potters’ secret keeper and of the fact that Pettigrew had managed to escape.
Sirius shuddered as he thought of the scene of the final confrontation between himself and Pettigrew. Pettigrew, secure in the knowledge that no one knew he was an animagus, had transformed after blasting half the street apart, killing twelve muggles in his bid for freedom. Even after being part of the Order of the Phoenix and fighting Voldemort’s forces since he had left school, Sirius had never seen anything like it.
The cat’s out of the bag now, he thought, making a slight adjustment in his course. The Ministry not only knew Peter was an unregistered animagus, but that Sirius was, too. He had been required to pay a hefty fine before he left the Ministry, and he had suspected from the smug looks of the Magical Law Enforcement wizards that they had been almost glad they had pinned something on him.
Like the vista of a long-forgotten dream, Hogwarts castle rose before him in the semi-darkness of the early evening. Seeing the glow in the windows, he wondered if any of the students in the castle knew that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was residing with them at that very moment.
***
“It is a matter of the boy’s safety,” Dumbledore said calmly, steepling his long fingers under his chin. “The enchantments – “
“You would be condemning him to years of mistreatment for no other reason than because of who he is, of whose son he is,” Sirius countered. “You haven’t heard Lily talk about Petunia and Vernon Dursley like I have. They despise everything about the magical world. When Harry’s powers start to show – “
“You would leave him exposed to Voldemort and the Death Eaters?” Dumbledore was still so damned calm, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to find a way to wipe the placid look off his face.
“Of course not,” Sirius said, growing heated. “We would go into hiding ourselves, even use the Fidelius Charm if you thought it necessary, to keep anyone from finding Harry. And Voldemort is gone, you said so yourself.”
Dumbledore considered the man in front of him. He knew as well as anyone that the effects of the truth-telling potion he had been given might not have worn off yet, but even if they had, he knew Sirius was in earnest. Every word he said dripped with his desire to provide safe harbor for Harry Potter.
“You are the keeper of James and Lily’s wills, are you not?” Sirius asked.
Dumbledore sighed. “I am,” he said.
“And what do they say about custody of their son in the event of their deaths?” Sirius already knew what it said – they had consulted him before making the change in their wills.
“Harry is to go to you,” Dumbledore replied, looking grave. “And that is binding.”
“It is – “ Sirius began.
“But I am asking you, as Harry’s legal guardian, to send him to safety at the Dursley’s house. I can ensure no one can touch him there, and he will be safe.”
“He will be safe with me,” Sirius argued. “You know he will be. Come, Dumbledore, you know this is what James and Lily wanted, and you know this is what will be best for Harry. I will raise him as if he were my own, and keep him safe along the way, until it’s time for him to go to school.”
Dumbledore sighed again, knowing what he had to do. Speaking to one of the portraits on the wall of the Headmaster’s office, he said, “Derwent, will you please inform Professor McGonagall that it is time to bring Harry to my office?”
The tiny man, a former headmaster himself, exited his frame to the left and disappeared, presumably to visit a portrait in Minerva McGonagall’s office and pass along the message.
“There is nothing I can say to change you mind?” Dumbledore asked, seeming sad and careworn, as though he had just aged ten years.
“Nothing,” Sirius confirmed. “This is for the best, Dumbledore, you’ll see.”
***
Sirius arrived at the small garden cottage in Windermere two days after his meeting with Dumbledore, laden down with a large pram and several bags of supplies for Harry. He hadn’t been able to resist replacing the toy broom he had given Harry for his first birthday along with a toy wand and a few other playthings, but most of the bags were filled with articles he had never had to use before: nappies and baby clothing, a dummy and flatware with an Unbreakable Charm, and a high-chair and a crib, both of which had been magically shrunk to fit in the shopping bags.
All-in-all, Sirius thought he was to be congratulated on his preparation. On his first full day of caring for Harry, he felt that he had all that he needed – and with Harry sleeping peacefully in the pram, he felt that parenting was a lot easier than he had been led to believe.
As he opened the door to their cottage, Sirius quietly pushed the pram into the small sitting room, leaving Harry sleeping inside while he put away the shopping. He bustled about in the miniscule kitchen, thinking he would make himself a nice lunch after he had finished unpacking – as Dumbledore had promised when he had told Sirius about the protected hideaway, the cupboards were full of Muggle groceries as well as some magical ones, and he would be able to provide for himself for some time with no problem.
Yes, he thought. This will do nicely as a place to raise a child.
A small cry came from the sitting room. Harry was waking up. Though he thought a little ruefully of all the setup he had to do, he was eager to interact with the toddler and see more of his personality and abilities than he had in the short visits he had been allowed once Lily and James went into hiding.
With a grin, Sirius hurried into the sitting room to collect his godson. Harry was just waking up, seeming confused by his surroundings – at least, he was fussing as his eyes went from the sides of the pram to the ceiling of the cottage and back again.
“Hello, Harry!” Sirius boomed cheerfully as he bent to pick him up.
Harry stopped fussing and looking into Sirius’s face with a look of concern. Sirius wondered if the constant changing of his caregivers in the past few days had been confusing, but he didn’t worry overmuch about it. Harry would adjust quickly, he was sure.
“Dada?” Harry said, thrusting a fist into Sirius’s hair.
That flummoxed Sirius for a moment. Was Harry asking for his father, or did he think Sirius was his father? Or was it just baby babble? He decided on the truth, crossing the room with Harry in his arms to sit on the sofa.
Settling a still-sleepy Harry into his lap, Sirius faced him so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “Dada can’t come, little one,” he said, his voice gentle and serious. “Dada and Mama can’t come anymore. But you’ve got me, and you’ll always have me. Can you say ‘Sirius?’”
Harry didn’t really respond to anything he was saying, but just gazed at him curiously.
Sirius made a funny face, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes. Harry laughed, and the sound of it was just as delightful as he had remembered from his visits to Godric’s Hollow. “You like that, huh?” He pulled another face, puffing his cheeks out and wrinkling his nose. Harry laughed again.
Sirius realized there were things he had to do with his godson other than make him laugh, although that seemed to be the best part of the day so far. With a determined expression, he took Harry to the small bedroom that would belong to him as soon as Sirius got the crib set up, and laid him on the small bed currently occupying the space. It took him a few tries to get the nappy pinned correctly, but he was proud of himself that he had done it without sticking Harry.
He looked at the soiled one with disgust. What was he supposed to do with that?
“Tergeo,” he muttered, pointing his wand at the nappy. The mess mostly came clean, but he reckoned he was going to have to do the kind of laundry Kreacher used to do for the family in order to have clean things for Harry. Why can’t they find a magical way to do that, he wondered?
That unpleasant chore done, he put Harry down on his little stockinged feet and watched him toddle toward the door. According to Lily’s letters, he had learned to walk just after his first birthday. Sirius was surprised at the speed with which Harry went through the door and into the hall. He followed quickly, chuckling at the sight of the baby, barely knee-high to him, charging down the hall back toward the kitchen.
“Well, little Prongs, it’s about time we had some lunch anyway. You’ve got the right idea,” Sirius said, springing forward to scoop Harry up and take him the rest of the way into the kitchen. Closing the door behind him, he put Harry back down and got the shrunken highchair out of the shopping bag.
“Engorgio,” he said, smiling in satisfaction as the chair grew to its normal size. He placed Harry in it, lowering the tray over the baby’s head so it sat in front of him. “What do you want for lunch, eh?” he asked, as though Harry would be able to answer him.
Opening the cabinets, Sirius found dried pasta noodles and a tin of Bolognese sauce. Deciding that would do, he set two pans on the stove and looked at the knobs on the Muggle contraption doubtfully. He had learned a bit about cooking while he lived on his own, but he had never had a Muggle appliance before. Shrugging, he lit the burners with his wand, eschewing the knobs, put water and the dried pasta in one, and the sauce in the other.
Just as he was pointing his wand at the pasta pot to start the water boiling, Harry let out a shriek and banged his tiny hands on the tray of his highchair. Whirling around in genuine alarm, Sirius looked wildly around the room for the source of Harry’s distress. Seeing nothing, he frowned at Harry in consternation. What was the problem?
“Do you want this?” he asked desperately, tugging the dummy out of a shopping bag and offering it to Harry.
Harry continued to scream and batted the dummy right out of Sirius’s hand. Sighing, Sirius retrieved it from the floor. He wasn’t sure if Harry even used one anymore, to be honest. He just remembered seeing him with one when he was a very small baby.
“What do you want, little Prongs?” he asked, leaning over to pick him up out of the chair.
As soon as he was in Sirius’s arms, Harry quieted. It seemed as though he just didn’t want to be in the chair. Sirius put him down on the floor to toddle around while he finished the lunch. That idea seemed to have some merit, as Harry didn’t resume screaming upon being put down. Satisfied, Sirius turned back towards his pots.
Just as he had started the water bubbling in the pasta pot, Sirius whirled around again as he heard a crash from behind him. With horror, he realized Harry had pulled one of the bags of shopping off the table and onto himself. The toy broom and other playthings were scattered over the floor, and Harry was wailing once again. “No-no!” he cried, though Sirius wasn’t sure who he was talking to.
Sirius rushed to him. “Are you hurt?” he asked anxiously, looking Harry over for signs of injury. It didn’t appear that anything had hit the baby hard enough to cause injury, but Sirius shuddered when he realized how much worse it could have been. I can’t take my eyes off him for a second, he realized. But then, how am I supposed to do anything?
Picking Harry back up, he kissed him on the forehead and made a funny face again, hoping to stop the wailing. This time, it didn’t work. “There, there,” Sirius muttered, bouncing Harry slightly on his hip. “It’s all right.”
Harry eventually quieted, but Sirius was afraid to put him down again, so he instead finished the lunch one-handed with Harry balanced on one hip. He didn’t know how, exactly, but he eventually got it done. Settling Harry back into the highchair, he presented him with a cup of milk in the No-Mess, No-Spill cup he had bought at the children’s shop on Diagon Alley. Harry seemed happy with this, grasping the two handles of the wooden cup and drinking noisily. Sirius grinned – the boy had just wanted something to drink. Easy enough.
While Harry was occupied with his milk, Sirius served up two plates of spaghetti Bolognese, one on the unbreakable flatware he had bought for Harry. He almost put the plate on Harry’s tray before remembering that he probably ought to cut the food into small pieces so Harry could eat them. Would he use a spoon? Did he know how? Frowning, Sirius got out the child-sized spoon from the set and placed it and the meal in front of Harry.
With a sigh, Sirius sat down with his own meal. It had seemed that preparing it had taken hours, even though he knew it hadn’t, and he was hungry. He sat at the table next to Harry’s highchair and began eating, noting that Harry seemed happy enough scooping up the bits of spaghetti with his hands and cramming them into his mouth. He was making a mess, but Sirius didn’t care so much about that.
After he was finished eating, more to delay the inevitable washing than anything else, Sirius took up his wand and made different-colored puffs of smoke come out of it for Harry’s amusement, remembering seeing James do this very thing. It worked, and Harry’s delighted laughs filled the kitchen. Sirius grinned, feeling that he was doing something right.
After that, Sirius undressed Harry right there in the kitchen and plopped him down in the sink to wash him down. He wondered what he was supposed to do with Harry after that – he remembered something about an afternoon nap, but surely Harry hadn’t been awake long enough to need to sleep so soon, and besides, Siris hadn’t set up the crib yet.
He sat Harry on the floor with some of his new playthings while he cleared up from lunch, feeling stressed. He just wasn’t sure how he was supposed to get everything done when he had a baby around, a baby who seemed to want his attention constantly.
***
By nine o’clock that night, Harry was finally asleep in the newly-constructed crib in his little bedroom, a new teddy clasped firmly in his chubby arms.
Sirius was more exhausted than he could ever remember being in his life. He had managed to get the shopping put away, Harry’s room set up, and dinner for the both of them, but everything had seemed to take ten times longer than it should have. He had enjoyed playing with Harry, though.
He smiled as he thought of Harry zooming about the sitting room on his toy broomstick, his toes brushing the floor as he seemed to change direction by instinct. Sirius wasn’t sure if he was just feeling pride in his godson or not, but he thought Harry was going to be a great flier when he was old enough. The thought made him grin – it would be right for James’s son to be a whiz on the Quidditch pitch, and he knew he would buy Harry a real broomstick the very second he was old enough for one.
He flopped back onto the sofa, wondering ruefully how he was going to manage raising Harry on his own. He reflected how, when he had visited, James and Lily had acted as a seamless team with Harry, with one taking care of household tasks and the other focusing on their small son. He wanted Harry to have the best of everything, but how was he to achieve that when it was only him?
As if in answer to his question, a knock sounded on the door, and Sirius bolted upright in genuine alarm. Only a few people knew where they were, and the Fidelius Charm along with other protective measures should have kept everyone else away.
Before he had a chance to see who was at the door, he heard Harry start to cry in his room – the knocking at the door had woken him. Damn, damn, damn, Sirius thought.
He went to the door – security was of utmost importance, and he couldn’t tend to Harry first in this instance.
“Homenum revelio,” he whispered, waving his wand at the door. He had to know how many people had come, first and foremost. The markers left by the spell told him only one person was outside of it. “Dumbledore?” he called uncertainly.
“Remus,” the voice on the outside answered calmly. Sirius could only just hear him over Harry’s wailing from the other room.
Remus Lupin was one of the only three people that knew the location of the cottage and could access it, having used it to go into hiding himself when it had been necessary nearly a year before. Sirius had not been expecting him, though. He hadn’t seen Remus in several months.
Cautiously, Sirius opened the door, his wand held ready in case of some kind of trick or attack. The person on his doorstep did appear to be Remus Lupin, his robes frayed and patched, a large traveling case in his left hand.
“I am also called Moony, and am a werewolf,” Remus told him reassuringly. “Aren’t you going to let me in so you can tend to Harry?”
Sirius opened the door and said a hurried greeting to his old friend before racing back to Harry’s room to pick him up and, hopefully, soothe him back to sleep. He heard the door close behind him and knew Remus had let himself in, but what he didn’t expect was for Remus to follow him to Harry’s bedroom.
Sirius picked Harry up, rocking him awkwardly in his arms to try to calm him. It worked almost immediately, with Harry closing his eyes and seeming to drift back to sleep, but Sirius was afraid to put him down so soon, that he would start crying again.
Behind him, he heard Remus chuckle. “It’s going to take some time before that looks natural,” he said with amusement. “But I think you’re doing fine.”
Sirius turned, and when he saw the face of his old friend in the soft light of the candle he had left in the bedroom for Harry, his heart skipped a beat.
Remus looked careworn and even more tired than Sirius felt, premature lines on his face making him seem much older than the age Sirius knew him to be, only a few years out of school. But the face, however tired it seemed, caught in the glow of the candlelight, seemed the most beautiful thing Sirius had seen in a long time.
Suddenly, the grief of losing James and Lily, the stress of his interrogation at the Ministry, and the shock of Peter Pettigrew’s betrayal all crashed down on Sirius as he stood in that tiny room in that tiny cottage, rocking his best friend’s baby in the crook of his arms. Tears came to his eyes as he looked at Remus, and the look of concern on his friend’s face told him that his distress showed plainly.
“Remus, I – “ Sirius began in a whisper.
“Hush,” Remus replied. He stepped forward into the room, setting his traveling case down. In a motion both bold and tender, he took Sirius into his arms, pulling both him and Harry into a close embrace.
Sirius pulled away first, looking searchingly into Remus’s eyes, but it was Remus who spoke into the silence. “I have loved you for years,” he said, his voice gentle. “Will you let me love both of you now? Could we possibly be a family?”
“Yes,” Sirius whispered, feeling a rush of emotion course through him as he thought of all the times he had wanted to say very similar words to his friend.
In the quiet of the secret cottage and the light from the single candle, Remus raised his face to Sirius and kissed him softly.