1- 31th October 1981
The morning of the 31th of October 1981 was a normal one: Sirius had woken up late, hungover from his late night drinks at the nearby pub, and he’d found Moony slouched on the sofa reading some order papers while sipping black coffee.
Everything was ordinary and Sirius loved it. He deeply loved how, in the midst of all the chaos the war brought, they managed to carve their own stable space. There were of course disagreements and sometimes they fought, but in the end it all came to those slow mornings. Sirius would toss himself on the couch still half asleep, he would tuck his naked feet under Remus while stealing his coffee, refilled already for that exact purpose. He could always find a warm hug and a soft smile awaiting for him. He thought that probably his afterlife would be full of these small moments.
However, they usually didn’t last long. He was almost always on order missions elsewhere and it seems mad-eye Moody was doing everything in his power to deprive him and Remus some alone time together, always dispatching them in opposite places at odd hours.
As if Remus could hear his thoughts, he rose from the sofa, and went to the bedroom to get ready for yet another boring recognition mission. The weather was not kind either as outside his window he could hear thunder roaring, and Sirius could see from Remus’ walk that his joints were affected. Once more, he dreamt of a time without war, in which he could be with his grandson at halloween, dressing him up as a small ghost and chase him around the house. Sadly, that was not the reality. His halloween would probably be spent getting soaked, guarding god-only-knows-what and, if he was lucky, watching a horror movie with his Moony fast asleep on the sofa during the night.
Sirius was right, he got drenched and stared at a door on a red-bricked wall for hours: no one was getting in nor out. That was the depiction of boredom in his opinion: alone, staring at a wall; if he had told 18-years-old Sirius that he would have to do that to fight in the war, he would have laughed in his face, but thankfully he had acquired a small capability for patience in these three years spent fighting.
He was daydreaming about a cottage in the trees where he could run around as Padfoot, when he saw from the corner of his eyes a silver figure approaching. He turned around and in front of him stood a Doe and from her inside three words arose “Sirius, help us”. Sirius would have recognized Lily’s Patronus everywhere, what he couldn’t fathom was the tone in Lily’s voice, so scared and subdued. In that moment, no order mission was more important than the safety of James, his brother, Lily, his best friend, and Harry, his Godson. He didn’t even think of warning the order, nor Moony. He just disapparated in Godrick’s Hollow, and, knowing that by sending the Doe Lily had opened the wards to him, he run, following the Doe in front of a building. He did not know the house they were hiding, but from outside it seemed so ordinary and non-conspicuous.
The door was open. Only a few steps in he realized what had happened. James laid on the ground, his glasses just a few steps ahead of him, the right lens broken. He was pale and for a moment Sirius hoped it was all a big halloween prank. That James would soon rise to his feet, laughing at Sirius’ reaction. Instead, James remained there, dead in front of him. A corpse, devoid of the joy and excitement that always kept him buzzing.
Sirius took some small steps in the house. He could feel his mind detaching from the situation; he was floating as he climbed up the stairs. The door to Harry’s nursery was open. They had decorated the door all together, the four marauders and that was probably why James had brought it in their new home. It had the same designs of the marauders map but featured Padfoot, Prongs, Moony and Wormtail running around a small stag, still uncertain on his feet. They had made it so that it would grow with Harry, reflecting as well the nature of its participants. Now, James’ stag laid on the ground, it looked fast asleep, only Sirius knew the truth.
At that moment, Sirius felt in a limbo, so long as he was outside the nursery Harry was still alive. He did not want to face the truth, yet he could not keep hesitating.
He slowly opened the door. Harry was seated on his bed, his eyes fixed on the floor, unseeing. On the floor rested Lily, her hair crowning her as one would see in pre-raphaelites’ paintings. She looked peaceful, yet it was clear that in her final moments she was trying to protect Harry.
When he set foot in the room, Harry raised his eyes onto him and it seemed like a veil was lifted from his eyes as he started to cry.
Sirius immediately went towards his crib and lifted him up in his arms, wrapping him up in his blanket. He could not feel the weight of Harry in his hands, nor the sheer cold that surrounded the house, he only knew he had to protect his Godson.
Then, without thinking, he disapparated home. With Harry still bundled in his arms, shakingly, he lowered himself on the corridor’s floor. His eyes unseeing, his ears deaf to Harry’s cries.
It was like this that Remus found them a couple of hours later. By then, Harry’s cries had subdued, leaving him fast asleep in Sirius’ arms. Sirius had not moved a millimeter since he crashed on the floor. His eyes, unmovingly staring at his black Converse, left there to dry just the day before. They had been a gift from James, he’d gifted a pair to every marauder at the end of 5th year: black for Sirius, brown for Remus, orange for Peter and red for himself.