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Two Dogs and Their Boy | ||||
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Category: Pre-OotP, Alternate Universe Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Comedy, Drama, General, Humor, Romance Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Mental Abuse, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use, Rape, Sexual Situations, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse Rating: G Reviews: 3 Summary: If Sirius hadn't been so rash that night and followed his brain rather than heart; if he had told Dumbledore that Pettigrew was the secret-keeper; so much would have changed. In fact, Sirius may have even gained custody of Harry! But wait a second..he can't raise Harry on his own..so he enlists Remus to help him. Together, the two raise Harry as he grows into a prank-loving, fun, boy. Hitcount: Story Total: 3402 Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work. Author's Notes: Er, yeahhhh, this is my second fanfic and the first fanfic which I'm going to complete..so..Enjoy! |
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Two Dogs and Their Boy Chapter 1: Death, Darkness, and Damningly Greasy Hair 31st October 1981, 12:00 AM IT was a rather cold beginning to Halloween on October 31st, 1981. The air hung heavy over south England as lightning struck on the stroke of midnight and the church bells began to chime; a beginning to the day that would leave some people in joy, some people in sorrow, and some people in rage. Chime. Chime. Chime. Chime. Chime. Chime. Chime. Chime. Chime. Chime. Chime. Chime. In a hidden cottage in Godric’s Hollow, James Potter woke up with a start, sweating feverishly at the sound of the distance church bells coupled with the lightning. He reached out to his nightstand for his glasses and hurriedly glanced to his left, as if to make sure that his wife of two years, Lily Evans Potter, was still there. At the sight of his beautiful wife in peaceful slumber, he relaxed, contented, until he remembered that he had to check on his son. He silently tiptoed out of the bed and walked over to the crib, adorned with red and gold hangings with pictures of quaffles and snitches on them, and gazed upon his son. Harry James Potter was one of the two lights in his life, the other of course being his wonderful wife. He had James’ shock of raven colored hair on his head — that much was apparent, even while the 1-year old baby was sleeping. Well, James fondly mused, he was now 1 and a quarter of a year old. He’d teasingly suggested to Lily that they have a party to commemorate the quarter year since his 1st birthday, but alas, Lily had shot that idea down. Something to do with not spoiling the baby and giving him as much of an overinflated ego as James himself had had — however, James failed to see how the two correlated. As well as the fact that only one person could even enter the house, given the Fidelius Charm on it — Peter Pettigrew. Yet even though their safety was in the hands of one of James’ trusted friends, he couldn’t help but worry. If questioned, Peter wouldn’t be able to keep the secret. He shook his head, deleting the possibility that his friend could betray him from his mind, and crawled back into the bed, snuggling into his wife, and whispered, “I love you,” before promptly falling asleep. ------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---- Ironically, the rat in question, Peter Pettigrew, scurried — in Animagus form — towards the illustrious mansion that lay ahead of him. He transfigured back into himself, startling the dazzling peacock that had been impeding his path. He opened the great rusty gate and strode forward, collecting himself as he prepared to betray James and Lily Potter — for the last time. --------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- --- 31st October 1981, 11:00 AM Lily Potter woke up, taking in her surroundings. She heard the contagious laughter of her son and the deep chuckles of her husband echoing throughout the house — no doubt Harry was up to some sort of antics on his tiny racing broom. Her hypothesis was proven correct as she walked down the stairs into the living room and saw Harry flying around the room, giggling with hysterical laughter, with James chasing him. “James Fleamont Potter, I thought we agreed that he couldn’t fly unless we covered everything in the room up. Good lord, do you want our entire house to be destroyed by tonight?” At the sound of the harsh but amused tones that filled the room, he stopped chasing Harry and instead, in one swoop, lifted the boy from his broom, cradling him to his chest, and swept through the room towards Lily, kissing her soundly on the lips. “Of course not, love, but with my impeccable Quidditch talent it’s safe to say he won’t destroy too much, and even if he does, we are ‘freaks’ who can repair whatever he breaks,” he said, smirking. “Merlin, you prat, with the size of your ego you’ll break the roof through its sheer size!” “No thanks Lils, I’m much happier with a roof over my head — wait,” he paused to think, “wait — I’ve got a genius James Potter Plan!” For those who aren’t aware, the last genius James Potter plan involved James receiving a blow to the head and sleeping on the couch for a month after he gave Harry two drops of Firewhisky — of course, that was really a poorly-concocted Sirius Black plan. “Err, no. Most genius James Potter Plans end up with an intoxicated Sirius and a half-naked Snape, two sights which I don’t want to see.” “But Lily–” “No.” “But–” “For Merlin’s sake, no!” “But you didn’t hear my idea!” the young wizard said, pouting at the fiery redhead — who he now noticed somehow had managed to extract Harry from his embrace. “You nearly dropped Harry with excitement over your obviously ridiculous plan!” “Well, um…uh…that’s not the point!” “Oh, well, before you get us all killed, just say your idea!” “Well,” he started in a tone of great grandeur, “let us entertain young Mr. Potter with a taste of extraordinary magic!” Lily shot him an incredulous glance, but Harry burst out into uncontrollable laughter as his father sent up smoke rings towards the ceiling. “Da!” cried the infant, reaching out towards his papa, who scooped him up, and smirked at Lily. “At least someone has good marauding taste here,” he said dramatically, storming out of the living room with a giggling Harry on his shoulder towards the kitchen. Even though she was annoyed at James, she couldn’t help but crack a smile at both of the pair, who were so obviously happy even in a time of such stress and despair. Merlin knows that smiles were necessary, cooped up in the small cottage for a week with no outside communication, and they were working their best to maintain the smiles. And today was going to be a day full of smiles. She could tell. 31st October 1981, 6:00 PM While life was all happy, giggly, and dandy in a small cottage in Godric’s Hollow, miles to the east in Wimbledon, an outskirt of London, there was one much less contented person, strolling towards a darkened alley. With dazzling grey eyes and shoulder length black hair, and an infectious grin, he was elegant in every sense of the word. But underneath his grin, Sirius Black was worried. Worried that he’d made the wrong decision in making Peter the Secret-Keeper. Worried that James and Lily, his best friends, were going to die, because they all knew Peter couldn’t hold out if he was suspected. Sirius entered the lantern-lit alley, recollecting himself, and apparated to the outskirts of Tinworth, and hurriedly walked towards a small, run down, cottage. He entered the cottage, which seemed to be in perfect shape. He opened the door to the bedroom, eyes frantically searching for something, someone– “Peter?” No response. Growing more anxious by the minute, he paused to think. Peter had agreed to be here at this time, yet he wasn’t. Which meant that Death Eaters had come. But there were no traces of any recent magic, any struggle, which meant– And then it dawned on him as to who the traitor was. “Fuck you, Peter Pettigrew,” he snarled. And then he sprinted away, into the night. 31st October 1981, 6:10 PM Rubeus Hagrid held the tiny egg in his hands, cooing gently and whispering sweet mutterings towards it, when he thought no one was looking. “Hagrid! Hagrid!” yelled a voice from the distance. Hagrid carefully put the egg out of sight as a tall, elegant figure, came sprinting, came closer and closer until he was in viewing range. “Sirius Black!” “Nice to see you too, Hagrid, but I haven’t got time to catch up. Listen, I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore, right now. Urgent Order business.” “Not James —? Lily—?” questioned the half-giant. “No, but they could be by tonight if I don’t get to Dumbledore in time.” Hagrid ran off towards the castle, and Sirius prayed that it wasn’t too late. But even so, he knew it was a lost cause. No one knew where the Potters lived, except for one man, and that one man was a Death Eater — the very thought of who the traitor was brought grief and anguish to his eyes. Voldemort could be arriving any time, and he was powerless to stop it. He sighed with relief has two tall figures emerged from the castle, briskly walking towards Hagrid’s hut. The smaller, older, one beckoned for the larger one to go back into the castle, while the older one himself walked towards the hut at great speed. “Ah, Mr. Black. What troubles you, my dear young man?” enquired Albus Dumbledore, as he swept into the hut. “Well, you see, Professor, I’ve made a grave mistake. And it may cost James and Lily their lives if we don’t do something about it now.” “What do you mean?” “I suggested to James that he make Peter the Secret-Keeper, and he did, and now I’m fairly sure the sodding rat is the spy! I checked on him tonight, and he wasn’t there, and there was no trace of magic or sign of a struggle, even though we’d agreed that he would be there so I could check on him! And that led me to one conclusion — that Peter is the spy. And now James and Lily may well be dead, and IT’S ALL MY FAULT. It’s all my fault,” he said in a broken tone. Dumbledore gazed into Sirius’ grey eyes with his wizened blue eyes and saw nothing but truth and despair. “Sirius, look at me. It’s not your fault that they might die. In fact, I think that appointing Peter as the Secret-Keeper was rather shrewd thinking; it is his fault, for being too weak to resist Voldemort.” And even though, deep down, Sirius knew the answer, he held on to the hopes that a little boy would have, asking, “Is there any way we can stop Voldemort now?” And Dumbledore said one of the hardest things he’d ever had to say in response. “I think not.” 31st October 1981, 9:30 PM “Oy, Lils, pass me Harry for a bit before you take him up to bed,” said James cheekily. “What am I, a postman? Come get him yourself, you prat!” retorted Lily, although her mock affront was easily seen through due to her grin. James held out his arms for Harry, who contentedly settled himself inside the strong embrace of his father. He shot up a couple more smoke rings and puffs for the little one’s entertainment, and Harry giggled. He set down his wand at the table and brought Harry into his heart. “You’re so precious, you know, Harry,” lovingly murmured his father, looking into green, almond-shaped eyes, “and I love you with all my heart,” he said, feeling oddly sentimental. A tear glistening in his eye, he hugged Lily and whispered, “I love you. I love both of you so much.” “I love you too James. With all my heart.” They kissed, and then she walked upstairs, cradling Harry to her breast. And then the door banged open– James was rooted to the spot, paralyzed with fear, wandless, staring into the slits which held Lord Voldemort’s red eyes. And then he thought of his wife, and his son, and gathered his courage, and yelled, “Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off —” And as Voldemort raised his wand for the death blow, he thought of Lily and Harry as memories flashed before his eyes — arguing with Lily, kissing her for the first time, marrying her, and holding Harry for the first time. And he stood, proud and determined, to meet his fate– “Avada Kedavra!” Lily heard the killing curse yelled from the bedroom she was hiding in, and prayed that it had missed, that this was a nightmare, but even so, she knew. The love of her life was — gone. She tried — once — twice — to apparate out of the house, but she was only met with failure and agony. She had one chance to protect Harry from death. She lovingly put Harry into his crib, and then she faced the door, ready to die protecting her son, as the door flew open, overcoming what little resistance was stacked against it, as Voldemort entered the room. “Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!” she cried. “Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now.” “Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead --” “This is my last warning --” “Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy … Not Harry! Not Harry! Please — I’ll do anything…” “Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!” He waited for a few seconds, and then pointed his wand at Lily, and yelled “Avada Kedavra!” as the beautiful figure of Lily Potter fell to the floor, lifeless. And then he looked at the baby in the crib, bawling his eyes out. He hated crying, and so he decided to get this over with as quickly as possible -- and then he raised his wand, to kill his pathetic supposed “foe”, and then– He was nothing. 31st October 1981, 6:40 PM Four wizards stood in one hut as memories of a beautiful cozy cottage flooded into their brains. The tall, scarred, brown-haired wizard was the first to speak. “So, are they — dead -- now?” The shortest man in the group — who was in fact 6’1” — spoke next. “When I find him, I’m going to murder him.” The huge man offered no discernible speech, only crying into a handkerchief. The three younger wizards looked expectantly at the older wizard, who said nothing, but merely beckoned for the other three to follow him. They walked out of the school grounds and from there, they apparated to James and Lily’s cottage. The shortest man let out a gasp at the sight of the wreckage that had once been the cottage and the Dark Mark hovering over the house and sprinted inside. He spotted the body of his best friend, the person who had taken him in when he’d had nowhere to go and let out a strangled sob, unaware to the scarred man’s cry of, “Sirius! Wait!” However, while the younger wizards all looked disconsolate, the older wizard had a twinkle in his eye, which the scarred wizard was the first to notice. “Albus, why is your eye twinkling now, of all times?” he said, curious and angry at the same time. “My dear Remus, listen closely.” Remus Lupin strained to hear and then he heard something. It was very faint, but he recognized it. It was crying, the crying of an infant–Harry? “He’s alive? But how?” “I’m afraid that that remains a mystery, although I do have a suspicion.” He sprinted upstairs towards the bedroom and opened the door, Sirius at his heels. He stopped at the sight of Lily Potter’s body, tears forming at the edge of his eyes as he looked at the woman who had always been there for him. He knelt to close her eyes– “Reemsh! Siri!” Remus swiveled his head and saw Harry, silently crying in his crib, and walked over and firmly lifted Harry from the crib. Merlin, he looked exactly like his father, but he had his mother’s eyes, thought Remus as he ran down the stairs, holding onto Harry. As the two turned to exit the room, he noticed a robe, forgotten amidst the wreckage. It was a robe as black as the night, and something about it exuded darkness. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, the huge man turned and looked at him. “'Arry - alive? Is Lily?” Remus shook his head. “No. She’s — gone. As for Harry, I’m not sure either, but I noticed a man’s robe on the floor, and I don’t think it was Prongs’ — I mean, James’” Albus chuckled and spoke. “Do you see the scar on Harry’s forehead?” Three wizards nodded. “That is a curse scar, but a curse scar that large can mean that it is the remnant of an exceptionally powerful curse — given that we are dealing with Voldemort, most likely that of an Avada Kedavra. However, the killing curse does not leave scars if it works effectively. And given that Voldemort’s robe — yes, I am aware that it is his — has been found on the floor, I believe that his killing curse rebounded. As to how, I am not sure at present, but I have a few ideas, which will be said all in good time.” “You mean Voldemort is dead?” “Unfortunately, Voldemort is too inhuman to be destroyed by the killing curse; he is mostly destroyed, yet not completely. He will bide his time, and unfortunately, I do believe that he will someday return.” “Now, we must set out and fulfill our duties. Hagrid, I want you to take the baby to No.4, Privet Drive. It is the house of Harry’s only blood relative,” he continued, on a lighter note. “You mean Petunia Dursley? Albus, you can’t do that! She despises magic! She despised Lily, who absolutely no one despised! She and the fat whale of a husband she lives will mistreat him terribly!” said an outraged Remus. “My dear Remus, I was not aware of just how much the Dursleys hated magic. However, he must stay somewhere. What do you suggest?” “Well–” began Remus, before Sirius interjected. “I want him to stay with me, of course! He’s my godson, and he and I are distant blood relatives — Dorea Black-Potter was my dear mum’s aunt. And Remus can stay with us and teach him how to be moderately responsible!” “Are you sure that you are ready for the responsibility of parenthood, Sirius?” “We said the same thing to James, but he turned out to be a wonderful father,” interjected Remus. “Very well; however, I am entrusting the two of you with finding Peter for now. However, where shall we leave Harry?” The large man, who had had very little to say so far, looked up and said, “Let me keep the little ‘un for now.” Sirius moved to respond but Albus cut him off. “That is a wonderful idea, Hagrid. Now, Sirius and Remus, go track down Peter. With any luck, we can capture him before the corrupt portion of the ministry interferes. I will go and catch the Order up on recent events.” 1st November 1981, 6:00 AM Remus and Sirius silently crept down the street. “Mate, we’ve been nonstop searching for the bastard for 11 hours. Can we take a break?” complained Sirius. “I think I’m starting to agr–” “Mate?” “He’s close by. I smell his scent.” Remus started to break into a run, but abruptly stopped just before the corner of the street. “Mate, this is it. He’s around the corner.” “If he transforms, how do we catch him?” “Hmm...well…we could probably use a Summoning charm on him,” whispered Remus. The two wizards turned the corner and spotted a rat scurrying down the street — he was at the end of the street, he was nearly gone– “Accio Peter!” cried Sirius, and the rat came flying towards them and was caught by Sirius. Another few flashes of wandlight found Peter in his human form, tied to the wall, and wandless. “You–fucking–bastard! How could you betray the two people who were kindest to you?” yelled Sirius as he put the tip of his wand right between Peter’s eyes. “He forced me, Sirius! Remus, he forced me! You wouldn’t believe that I, your friend, could betray you! Have mercy!” squeaked Peter. “Save it for someone who cares, mate. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you, you rat bastard,” snarled Sirius. “Because–” interjected Remus’ quiet voice from behind the other two, “–it’s not what James would have wanted. His best friend, to become a murderer by murdering one of his other, admittedly former, best friends.” And so, the two wizards escorted a bound and gagged Peter Pettigrew to the Ministry, where he would be held in custody for a week before his trial. 1st November 1981, 12:00 PM Sirius crossed the threshold into the ruins of the Potter’s cottage, Harry in his arms. By now, the entire world was celebrating the ‘demise’ of Voldemort, without a regard to the two wonderful people who had died. None of them would ever know how kind Lily and James were; how James could always make anyone laugh, and Lily could always make anyone feel better; how high Lily’s voice could reach when she was annoyed or how low James’ voice could go when he was confiding in them; and how much they loved Harry. Speaking of Harry, he was squirming in Sirius’ arms, crying out, “Prog! Pad! Moon!” Sirius smiled, thinking of Harry’s three — well, four — stuffed animals, who were named for the four marauders. Coincidentally, Harry had never liked his stuffed rat — or Peter himself, for that matter. Baby knows best, thought Sirius. He and Harry moved through the house, salvaging various items from it; Prongs, Padfoot, and Moony (Wormtail ended up in a sewer); Harry’s toy broomstick; various photos of James and Lily; and lastly, a letter which Sirius had found in Lily’s dresser drawer. He unfurled it and read the beautiful handwriting of Lily Evans on the page. Dear Padfoot, If you’re reading this, James and I will be gone. I’d been reading for a few days about powerful protection magic, and I’d found something on protection through love. The book, Powerful Forms of Magical Protection, stated that if a mother dies for their child in love, a powerful, ancient form of magic is evoked where the child’s blood is protected and thus cannot be harmed. And if I die, I do sincerely hope that this protection worked. That Harry survived. Secondly, you’re Harry’s godfather, and I want you — not Petunia — to become his guardian. Tell that to Dumbledore when he goes on his spiel about blood protection and staying with Aunt Petunia. But as much as you may love the idea, I refuse to allow you to make my son a complete troublemaker, like you. I’m sure Remus, Emmeline, and Hestia can help with that. Oh, and by the way, get your head out of your arse and figure out that you can stay with a woman longer than a week Please give Harry the best possible life you can and tell him that we love him so much. Every day. Make sure he never loses sight of who his parents were, don’t spoil him as much as James would, and do not let him get his head turned by fame. Love, Lily P.S. Hey Pads — there’s a few things you must do to make sure Harry turns into the best Prongslet and Marauder he can be. Firstly, don’t raise Harry all by yourself, because I shudder to think what he could become if you raise him by yourself. Secondly, ask Professor Dumbledore for my invisibility cloak. Thirdly, get the Map from Filch’s office! Love you, you immature first-year (no, I’m not going to run from Lily to be with you, I’ll be dead when you read this) Prongs P.P.S. If you raise Harry incorrectly, I’ll have Moody murder you. P.P.P.S. Our cat is currently with Emmeline, if you ever want the orange furball back. Sirius hated to the cry, but it seemed he’d done an awful lot of crying in the last few days. When he’d been beaten by his parents so badly he’d run away, he’d not cried, he’d just had a sort of hollow look about him. But reading Lily and James’ letter made him cry, and he hated it because it made him feel weak — like he wasn’t going to be able to honor their wishes. He folded the letter, put it in his pocket, placed the other items into his rucksack, and portkeyed out of the house to Gringotts, where Remus was organizing a couple things — where Harry, Sirius, and Remus would live (Sirius had to convince Remus that he would be welcome), and James and Lily’s funeral. “Hey Padfoot,” said the Marauder in question, “I’ve been talking to the goblins about the best environments for Harry — you know, a place where he can grow up with wizarding children and a place where he can have the best childhood a child could wish for — and I’ve definitely figured out the community. Ottery St. Catchpole’s, in Devon. A few families we know live there — the Diggorys, Weasleys, and Lovegoods. There’s one house I’ve found within the neighborhood that I think works the best for us.” He showed Sirius pictures of the hole; it was a large house on a quiet country road, with a pool and a Quidditch pitch (which of course was the main factor in warming Sirius to the idea of the house) and woods stretching around the back of the pitch — perfect for the full moon, thought Sirius. “Alright ickle Moonykins, let’s get the house!” “I’m sorry, what did you just call me, you dog?” “Why! I never! I have never felt so thoroughly insulted–” “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Black,” drawled a new voice, “but I’m ready to finalize the buying of the house. I am Griphook, the Potter and Black family agent.” 2nd November 1981, 11:00 AM “Attention! ATTENTION!” yelled an angry voice, which Sirius recognized to be that of Bartemius Crouch. The Wizengamot immediately quieted, although there were still many restless warlocks dispersed through the court. “We are here today for the trial of one Peter Benjamin Pettigrew, of Tinsworth.” Crouch continued to talk for a bit, and Sirius finally tuned in when a Ministry official stepped forth with a vial of clear liquid. “Mr. Pettigrew will shortly be administered with a strong dose of Veritaserum, to ensure that we hear only the truth in this trial.” As soon as Crouch said this, the Ministry official stepped forth, opening Peter’s mouth and watching as the rat swallowed the truth potion. “Now for the interrogation, Chief Warlock Dumbledore, if you will begin the questioning.” “Most certainly, my dear Bartemius,” began Dumbledore. “Now, what is your name?” “Peter Benjamin Pettigrew,” said the shivering wizard monotonously. “Where do you live?” “5 Meadows Lane, the outskirts of Tinsworth.” “Were you a spy for Voldemort?” Collective shuddering filled the room at the sound of the name, causing Sirius to look around with disgust. “Yes.” At this proclamation, the room became deathly still. “For how long?” “I was a spy for two years.” “Why did you become a spy?” “He offered me a great standing and great power, something I had never had before.” “Who were the Potter’s Secret Keepers?” “They originally appointed Sirius Black, but he suggested they switch to me because he was their obvious number one choice and Voldemort had ways of getting the information out of him.” “When did you tell Voldemort where the Potters were hiding?” “The day they were killed.” “And lastly…do you regret your actions?” “No.” “Well, Bartemius, I believe that I am finished questioning young Pettigrew here.” “Very well,” replied Bartemius, “All in favor of sending the accused to Azkaban for life?” The entire court raised their hands. And thus, Peter Pettigrew was confined to an Azkaban cell with the highest security measures possible. But little did anyone — except for two individuals who would one day rue this mistake — realize that he could escape whenever he wanted; but he was just biding his time, waiting for a sign. 7th November 1981, 9:00 AM Sirius paced around the grounds, his black robe swishing behind him as he muttered to himself. “I can’t. I won’t. I don’t want to. I must. I don’t want to.” “Mr. Moony wonders what on earth has driven Mr. Padfoot to such extreme levels of insanity,” said an amused Remus, dressed rather similarly to Sirius. “I can’t give a speech about James and Lily because I don’t know what to say — I feel that nothing I say can ever truly honor James and Lily. There are so many people, dammit! Thank god Harry didn’t have to be here and that old Mrs. Figg agreed to look after him.” “Look, mate, it’s alright that you don’t know what to say. The fact that you could even be here, so soon, is enough to them — and that you’re going to raise their child.” “But what if I raise him badly? He could turn into one of my cousins! Did you hear what darling Bellatrix did to Frank and Alice the other night? What if he hates me and runs to the Death Eaters?” “Padfoot, slow down. This is Lily Evans and James Potter’s child, not a Black. And I seriously doubt an Evans-Potter could possibly turn dark.” “I s’pose you’re right. Sorry, mate, I’m just on edge.” “It’s fine, we all are. Harry will be fine with us,” said Remus. The two wizards waited in silence, choosing seats, and then the grand double doors of the castle swung open. Around 10-15 people had come for the funeral (Sirius and Remus decided James and Lily wouldn’t want a funeral full of people who didn’t care about them), all of them Order members or Hogwarts teachers; Petunia Dursley had been invited but had not RSVPed to the invitation. As people filled in, Sirius craned his neck to get a good look at the crowd; there was Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Horace Slughorn, Hagrid, Emmeline Vance, Hestia Jones, Mad-Eye Moody, Sturgis Podmore, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Dung Fletcher, Aberforth Dumbledore, and — Severus Snape? Insides burning with fury, Sirius made to go and punch Severus to death, but before he could get up, Remus put a relaxing arm on him. “Padfoot, what’s wrong?” “The fact that the air smells of greasy Death Eater.” “Snivellus? But what would he be doing here? Is he not a Death Eater?” “‘Course he is, filthy piece of vermin.” “Unless —” Remus paused to think, “Snape was the spy.” “You’re bloody kidding, right?” “No, I don’t think I am. Plus, weren’t he and Lily very close for 5 years?” “Until the piece of filth called her a Mudblood to her face.” “Yes, but he still tried to be friends with her. She didn’t like him.” While Sirius had no response to that, he kept on shooting baleful looks towards Severus for the entire funeral (which were of course returned) — until it was his turn to speak; lost in memories, he hadn’t paid attention to Remus’ eulogy, which had brought the congregation, it seemed, to tears. It took Remus’ three nudges to get Sirius’ attention. “Sirius, get up, you’re being disrespectful and wasting time!” “Okay, Professor Moony,” he drawled back, receiving laughs from the crowd. He made his way up to the podium and began to speak. No sound came out. He tried again. His mouth refused to say anything. He just couldn’t speak. “Mr. Black, is everything alright?” questioned Minerva McGonagall. “It seems that Mr. Black is about to cry that the little girl that he no doubt is,” voiced an unpleasant tone which Sirius knew to be that of Snivellus–no, Severus–Snape. “Severus–" Dumbledore said, but was cut off by a bang and a squeal. Where Snape had been there was a ferret, jumping up and down. Sirius looked around for the spellcaster and was met by a wink — which was awfully creepy — from a certain Mad-Eye Moody. His eye twinkling, Dumbledore spoke. “If you will, Sirius.” Finally, he knew what he had to say. “I first met James Potter when I was 5 years old. We were at a pureblood class — one of those stuck-up ones where you learn ballroom dancing — and we both despised the classes. So, what did we do? We had the same idea at the same time. We pranked the hell out of everyone. We picked the people at the classes we least liked and pranked them. My mum thought he was an awful influence on me and after the dance classes finished, we didn’t see each other for 5 years. Whenever my parents berated me, I thought of the inspired young boy with a shock of black hair and would figure out how I could get my revenge, instead of being like my brother Regulus, who submitted to the reign of terror that was Walburga Black. “You see, what I most admired about James then is that he knew what he wanted, and he got what he wanted, almost every time. And in going for what he wanted, he usually made the right decision. “Nothing had changed when we met on the Hogwarts Express when he was 11. He saw Lily Evans and commented to me that she was very pretty. By 12, he thought that she was ‘the one’ for him, and Remus and I thought that he was out of his bloody mind, especially seeing as Lily Evans hated him. “I didn’t like Lily for a long time. She always hurt Prongs and she stole Prongs’ attention from me (as I was his one true love). I didn’t like her even after James finally got the girl. I began to like her a lot when I realized how happy James was with her and how kind she was of a person underneath her exterior. “James was an absolute madman, but a madman with a knack for getting — and knowing — what he wanted. When we were 16, I ran away from my parents, beaten and bruised. Where did I go? Potter Manor. James healed my injuries, and his parents let me in.- “James and Lily were two of the most genuinely kindhearted people I’ve had the privilege to know. When I lost Marlene McKinnon, who was then the love of my life, they consoled me. When Remus and I fell out, they comforted both of us, made both of us realize we were idiots, and we became friends again. “But I think the best thing they did was create Harry. Yeah, yeah, yeah, he’s the Boy-Who-Lived, but that’s not what’s important. He carries both James and Lily in him, and always will. He looks exactly like James and has Lily’s eyes. And I am incredibly proud to be their son’s godfather. “So, here’s to Lily and James Potter, the two most badass, stupidly loyal and kindhearted, wonderful, people I have ever had the privilege to know.” |
| Reviews 3 |
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