The night was dark, a silencing cloud covering the stars as Harry Potter stepped into the shadows of the alleyway. He heard the soft scrape of boots against cobblestone, the low, angry murmur of voices on the streets beyond. The war was still raging, but the world was quiet here—quiet, yet dangerous.
His breath was heavy, each step feeling like a heavier weight than the last. He had learned the hard way that being a war hero didn’t mean you were invincible. He was tired, worn out, and though he fought it, he could feel the toll on his body, on his heart, on his soul. The scar had stopped hurting but the ache of everything else? It never stopped.
Harry wasn’t alone.
A few paces behind him, his bodyguard followed. The presence of Sirius Black, Harry’s unofficial guardian, was a comfort, but also a burden. Sirius had taken on the role of protector after Cedric’s death, after Harry’s parents, and after everything had shattered into pieces. Harry’s life had changed overnight when he learned that Sirius wasn’t just his godfather; he was now the closest thing to family Harry had left.
Still, that didn’t mean Harry wasn’t aware of the risks. He had always been aware, but tonight it felt more pressing than ever.
Sirius had insisted on going with him. He had insisted, as he always did, on being there in case things went wrong. But things were already wrong, and Harry had a sinking feeling that this night would only make them worse.
They were in Knockturn Alley, a place Harry had always avoided, but tonight they were here on business, searching for something that could help them in the war effort. They didn’t speak as they moved, and Harry appreciated that. There was no need for words in a place like this, not when every shadow felt like it might be hiding someone with a wand pointed directly at them.
“Keep your eyes peeled, Harry,” Sirius said quietly from behind him, his voice a rough whisper in the gloom. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“I know. Just keep close,” Harry muttered. His eyes darted around as they continued down the alley, both of them knowing that at any given moment, someone could emerge from the shadows with a curse on their lips.
Suddenly, the hairs on Harry’s neck stood on end. He froze.
Sirius did the same, his hand instinctively going to his wand. Harry glanced back at him, his heart hammering in his chest.
“Do you feel that?” Harry whispered.
Sirius nodded. His face hardened, but there was something in his eyes that made Harry uneasy. Something darker.
“Get down,” Sirius ordered.
Before Harry could react, the world exploded into chaos.
A spell shot out from the darkness, narrowly missing Harry’s head and embedding itself into the stone wall beside him. He ducked instinctively, pulling Sirius with him into the nearby alcove.
“Dammit!” Sirius cursed, eyes scanning the area as he whipped out his wand. “Stay low.”
Harry was too shaken to protest, too accustomed to danger to let fear paralyze him, but even so, his mind was racing. Who had found them? And why now?
He was about to ask when a cold laugh cut through the air. A figure stepped out from the shadows—tall, cloaked, and bearing a wicked grin.
“Looks like we’ve found our prey,” the figure sneered, and Harry’s blood ran cold. The voice was unmistakable.
"Malfoy," Harry spat, anger surging through him. Draco Malfoy stood there, flanked by two Death Eaters who were cloaked and ready to strike.
Sirius gripped Harry’s shoulder, pulling him back further into the shadows. “Not now,” he said, voice strained. “We need to get out of here.”
But Harry wasn’t listening. His chest was tight, his heart racing. Malfoy’s smirk deepened, his eyes flickering to Sirius.
“Well, well, the traitor himself,” Malfoy said with a sneer. “Come to rescue your precious godson, Black? Too bad I’m afraid that’s not in the cards tonight.”
Harry raised his wand, ready to fight, but Sirius gripped his arm tighter.
“Harry, don’t. Not yet,” Sirius warned.
But Harry’s temper was already flaring, the same fierce determination that had gotten him through so many battles taking over. “I’m not running, Sirius.”
“I’m not asking you to!” Sirius snapped, his voice sharp with urgency. “But you can’t fight them both at once! Not in this state—you're exhausted!”
“I’m fine,” Harry ground out, already stepping forward, his wand raised.
“You’re not fine!” Sirius barked, moving in front of Harry, his hand forcing Harry’s wand down. “Quit trying to die for me, Harry!”
Harry’s pulse quickened, the fire in his chest flaring again. “It’s my job,” he said, voice tight. “To protect everyone. Even you.”
“It is the opposite of your job!” Sirius shot back, his eyes blazing. “You’ll be a shit bodyguard if you’re dead, Potter!”
Harry blinked, taken aback for a moment. But the realization hit him hard—Sirius had always been there, always fighting for Harry, always willing to put himself in harm’s way. Harry had never once considered what that did to him, how much of himself he had to give up. But this wasn’t about that. Not this time.
He stepped back, trying to get his bearings. “I’m not letting them hurt you, Sirius. I won’t.”
Before Sirius could respond, the Death Eaters lunged forward. One cast a curse, but Sirius was quicker, knocking the spell aside with a flick of his wand. “Go, Harry!” he shouted, pushing Harry out of the way.
“No, I won’t leave you!” Harry protested, but Sirius was already moving, drawing the attention of the Death Eaters.
“You will if you want to survive!” Sirius growled, blocking another curse. “Get out of here!”
“Not without you,” Harry retorted, stepping forward to help, but Sirius knocked him back again.
“Quit being a hero!” Sirius shouted, anger and desperation in his voice.
But it was too late. The world seemed to slow as Harry’s eyes met Sirius’s. Time stretched between them, and in that moment, Harry understood.
Sirius would fight for him. Always. But he couldn’t do it alone.
A sharp cry rang out as Sirius was hit by a stunning spell, collapsing to the ground with a thud. Harry’s heart dropped, a cold wave of fear flooding over him. He raised his wand, fury boiling inside him as he turned to face Malfoy and the two Death Eaters.
“I’ll kill you,” Harry muttered, voice thick with rage.
Draco’s smile faltered for a split second before he cast a spell. But Harry was faster, deflecting it just as he had countless times before. He fought with everything he had left, every ounce of strength in his bones pushing him forward. But all he could think about was Sirius lying there, motionless.
“Expelliarmus!” Harry shouted, and Draco’s wand flew from his hand.
The two Death Eaters backed off, wary now of Harry’s power. But the real battle wasn’t over. They still needed to get out.
Sirius stirred, groaning as he slowly got to his feet, his eyes meeting Harry’s with an almost weary look.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Sirius said, though his voice was strained. “You’re not ready for this.”
“Then teach me,” Harry said, voice firm. “Teach me how to protect you too.”
Sirius chuckled weakly, stumbling forward. “You’ll learn, kid. But for now? Get us the hell out of here.”
Harry nodded, grabbing Sirius’s arm and pulling him toward the alley’s exit. Together, they ran, knowing the battle wasn’t over yet, but for now, they had each other.
And that was enough.
As they finally made it back to the safety of their home, Harry and Sirius collapsed on the couch, breathing heavily, both bruised and bloodied but alive.
“Promise me,” Sirius said, voice hoarse, his eyes meeting Harry’s with a tired but firm expression. “Promise me, Harry, that you won’t throw yourself into danger like that again. Not for me.”
Harry hesitated, looking at the man who had given up everything to protect him. He had learned a lot tonight—not just about the fight ahead, but about the strength that came from caring for those around you.
“I promise,” Harry whispered.
And for once, that was enough.