Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Wednesday sat down in the cold metal chair on one side of the glass and lifted the phone receiver and held it to her ear.

“Who is Garret Gates and why have you been arrested for his murder?”

Father winced, his eyes betraying his soft heart that ached at the thought of needless slaughter. “You must understand, my deadly viper, Garret died a very long time ago.”

“He was murdered a long time ago,” Wednesday corrected her father. The bright orange jumpsuit and chains he wore on his wrists were eyesores and Wednesday couldn’t stand to look at them. “Tell me what happened.”

All Wednesday knew of Garret Gates was that he was the normie boy who had died and ended the Nightshades twenty years ago. And now her father had been arrested for his murder - a false imprisonment, Wednesday was certain.

“I killed him,” Father said. He smoothed his fingers over his mustache and looked at a point just over Wednesday’s shoulder.

Father was an atrocious liar; there was a reason why Wednesday beat him at Russian Roulette every time they played. Yet Wednesday sat quietly to allow him to tell his story.

“Garret was in love with your mother, he was obsessed with her. He used to harass her, it was as if he were torn between despising her for being an outcast and wanting her for her beauty. Your mother was terrified of him.

“He showed up, on the night of our Rave’N, screaming at her. He chased us to the balcony, driven mad by rage at seeing me with your mother. We fought, and ultimately, I won. It was an accident, but in the end, I drove a rapier blade through his chest and he fell from the balcony.”

Father lowered his head and sighed deeply before looking back up at Wednesday with remorseful eyes.

“I am sorry, you deserve better, my viper. I have let our family down.”

“Have you?” Wednesday asked. She considered Harry’s father, who lingered in the shadows and allowed his son to live a life unfit for him. She thought of Pugsley, who had wept when Father had been taken from Nevermore in handcuffs. Wednesday thought of Father teaching her to fence, to look for answers when she required them, and to stand in the face of adversity and never compromise who she was.

Wednesday got to her feet with a surge of determination to clear her father’s name.

“You have your flaws, Father, but letting our family down has never been one of them,” she told him with a stern look taken directly from her mother’s face.

And, apparently, being a killer was another flaw that her father didn’t have, which meant that Wednesday was going to have to clear his name.

After she found Harry and had a chat with the sheriff, not necessarily in that order.

“Do you- do you remember me?”

Harry had scrambled as far away from the man as he could and was pressed so hard against the trunk of a tree that he could feel bark digging in the skin of his neck. He started to nod - was he ever even a custodian?! - then realized he had no idea what was happening and shook his head instead.

The man was on his knees on the ground and his long, scraggly, black hair hung in his face, hiding part of his features. Harry saw that he looked thin beneath his leather jacket and jeans, dirty too.

… as if he’d been living in a bloody cave.

The man reached out for Harry, causing him to press himself even further away in a panic, then he dropped his hands.

“You- why were you…” The man trailed off and sighed before sitting back on his heels and pushing his hair out of his face. Harry looked him over quickly and there was something familiar in his eyes…

“You’re Sirius Black,” Harry whispered, finally finding his voice, as hoarse as it was from screaming before. The man was much older than he’d been in the photos, looking just as he had when Harry had met him at St Brutus’.

“I’m nobody. Are you nobody too?”

“I am,” the man, Sirius, said in a raspy voice. “Who were you expecting?”

Harry couldn’t even process what was going on… the custodian that taught him to play piano was also the dog that bit Chase one time… and the dog that ripped out Rowan’s throat… and he was the bloke in the photographs with Harry’s dad…

And he wasn’t Harry’s dad.

“Is my dad dead?” Harry asked, squeezing his eyes shut, preparing himself for the answer.

It came swiftly, like a knife to the stomach.

“Yes.”

When the sob ripped its way through Harry’s chest, there were suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling him against a shaking chest.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius cried, clutching Harry tightly while he shared Harry’s pain. “I’m so sorry.”

Wednesday crept quietly through the police station, sticking to the shadows and evading the nosy questions of the officers and staff.

She would speak only to the sheriff who arrested her father, none of the others would suffice.

Yet, as soon as Wednesday stepped in Sheriff Galpin’s office, the first question out of her mouth had nothing to do with her father.

“Harry is missing,” Wednesday said, causing the sheriff to spin around in his chair and gape at her like the unintelligent homo sapiens she suspected him to be.

“Have you seen him?” she asked when the sheriff was unable to articulate a response to her first statement.

“Harry Potter? Yeah,” he said gruffly. Galpin scooted up to his desk and busied himself with straightening papers on his desk. “He was at the Weathervane this morning, just before the coroner shot himself.”

“The coroner shot himself?” Wednesday repeated, momentarily sidetracked. “This morning?”

Wednesday just saw the coroner last week when she had broken in his office to steal his reports on the victims of the monster. He had been elderly and had tickets to a cruise in his desk alongside an approved request from the city for retirement.

It seemed a peculiar time to commit suicide.

“Yeah, and his note is what helped me solve this case,” Galpin said smugly. “For twenty years he’d been covering up Garret Gates’ murder, I guess the guilt finally got to be too much for him.”

Wednesday’s brows furrowed together. “Is it not incredibly convenient, even to you, that the coroner claimed to have been covering the truth of a murder and then confessed to that crime the very weekend that my father came to town? Your only suspect?”

“You think it’s convenient?” Galpin scoffed. He slapped a hand on a folder on his desk and glared at Wednesday. “Garret’s entire damn family is dead because of your father, girl.”

That was news to Wednesday, she thought the only charge was a single homicide.

“Oh?” she asked curiously, enraptured by this tale of a family falling dead in one fell swoop.

“Garret’s mom killed herself the day after she buried her only son, his dad drank himself to death not ten years later. Garret even had a younger sister, Laurel, she went to live with an aunt upstate after her mom died and she died, drowned in the ocean. They never recovered her body.”

Galpin stood and seemed to be attempting to intimidate Wednesday with his superior height and the firearm he carried on his hip. “Your dad didn’t just kill Garret, he destroyed an entire family that night. If it were up to me, he’d be on a quick trip to the electric chair.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing it isn’t up to you,” Wednesday said coolly. “My father is innocent and when I prove it, I expect a formal apology for the slander against his name.”

Galpin barked out a harsh laugh. “Alright, you prove his innocence and you’ll get that apology. Now, is there anything else I can do for you, Addams?”

“Yes,” Wednesday said primly. “I need your address. Harry is missing, I need to ask your son if he’s seen him and Tyler isn’t at work.”

Galpin laughed again and sat down heavily in his chair. “Sure, yeah, I’ll give out my home address to the daughter of a murderer. Get back to your school, girl. If I see your friend I’ll tell him to call you.”

“Suit yourself,” Wednesday said with a smirk.

Perhaps if the sheriff truly valued his privacy, he wouldn’t leave his drivers license with his home address in his wallet on his desk where Thing was able to snag it during his tirade about the Gates family.

Pity.

Wednesday knocked briskly on the Galpin’s door and looked around their plain and boring yard as she waited for Tyler to answer. They lived in a modest sized single story home, painted a shade of white to match the neighbors. Nothing stood out as remarkable in any way, from the cleaned gutters to the simple blue shutters on the windows.

Tyler’s vehicle was in the driveway, a silver car that Wednesday had frequently seen at the Weathervane. There laid a bicycle with muddy tires against the garage and a flower bed with nothing but crispy leaves littering it.

All in all, it was about as unobtrusive and lackluster as a home could be.

Tyler opened the door, a puzzled frown already on his lips.

“Wednesday?” he asked, surprised. “What- what are you doing here?”

“Looking for Harry,” Wednesday informed him, standing straight and craning her neck to look over Tyler’s taller shoulder. “Is he here?”

Tyler held the door more widely open for Wednesday, offering her entry with his outstretched arm.

“No, but feel free to check, I could have him hidden under a couch,” he said drily. “I haven’t seen him since this morning. He seemed pretty upset, has he not made it back to school yet?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Wednesday scowled. It was the first time that she cursed herself for her aversion to technology. It would be rather simple to call Enid and check if Harry had returned or not. Tyler seemed to be tracking her thoughts, because he pulled a silver cell phone from his back pocket.

“Want me to call Xavier, see if he’s seen him?” Tyler offered.

“Why do you have Xavier’s number?” Wednesday asked suspiciously. As far as she was aware, according to Enid and her endless outpouring of adolescent gossip, Tyler and Xavier were bitter foes of a sort. Even if they weren’t, anyone who had a possibly cannibalistic monster on their speed dial was someone to be wary of.

“We’re friends, I guess,” Tyler grinned and ran a hand through his curly hair, a move that Wednesday had heard Harry describe in excruciating detail before. One that did nothing for her except rise her disdain for nearly the entire male population.

“Do you want me to call or not?” Tyler asked.

“Yes,” Wednesday said after a moment. Thus far, Xavier hadn’t harmed Harry in monster or human form, she merely had to hope that the trend had continued and Harry hadn’t become monster food while she had been distracted by her father’s arrest.

A fear that sent a true shiver through Wednesday’s entire body while Tyler called Xavier.

“Hey, man, it’s Tyler. So, Wednesday is here looking for Harry. I haven’t seen him since this morning, have you?” Tyler frowned while Xavier spoke, an obvious response. “Okay, well I’ll circle back to the Weathervane and see if he’s there. If you see him, will you give me a call? Alright, cool, thanks.”

Tyler shook his head when he hung up and snagged a jacket from the hook just inside his front door.

“Xavier hasn’t seen him since this morning either,” he told Wednesday, as if she had been unable to divine that from his part of the phone call. “You want to ride with me? We can go check the Weathervane and drive around town?”

“No.” Wednesday backed up when Tyler stepped out on the porch and pulled his door shut. Her eyes roamed to where the bike was leaning against her garage. “Loan me your bicycle.”

“Uh… sure,” Tyler shrugged. He held up a set of keys and jingled them annoyingly. “It’ll be faster in my car though.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. For the son of a police officer, he clearly had no idea on how to begin a proper search.

“It would be quicker if we split up,” she told him, speaking slowly so his small brain could track her idea. “You drive around town, I’ll take the woods.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea,” Tyler agreed quickly, bobbing his head like an obedient dog. “Do you have a phone? So we can like call each other if we find him?”

Wednesday once more cursed her lack of owning a cell phone. A wrong she would have to rectify, apparently. It would be rather convenient to merely call Harry and find his location without involving others.

“If I don’t find Harry in an hour, I’ll return to Nevermore and have Xavier check with you,” Wednesday decided. “If you find Harry then take him to school and I’ll meet him there.”

“Got it,” Tyler said. “Hey, if you find him first, will you tell him to call me? He, uh… I don’t know, he seemed pretty down this morning.”

“Touching,” Wednesday sneered, nauseated by the blatant concern shining in Tyler’s eyes. “Yes, I will tell Harry to contact you, though it is his choice if he does so or not.”

“Thanks.” Tyler flashed Wednesday a smile before climbing in the drivers side seat of his car. “See ya.”

“Goodbye and good riddance,” Wednesday muttered. She secured her bag more tightly on her back before climbing on Tyler’s worn blue bicycle and ignored the sidewalks to travel directly toward the woods.

If Xavier had hurt Harry, then Harry wouldn’t be walking around town, he would be in the woods somewhere.

And if Wednesday found his body, then Xavier had seen his final sunrise that morning.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” Harry said, struggling out of Sirius’ embrace once he’d thoroughly destroyed the man’s jacket with his tears and snot. “Why- why are you here? You’re a dog? But you followed me? Why?”

There were too many questions in Harry’s mind for him to bite his tongue. Not this time. Not when his dog turned out to be a custodian who turned out to be best mates with his dad who turned out to be dead.

Harry thought he might need Wednesday’s board to keep all the strings of that train of thought straight.

Sirius hopped up on the fallen tree trunk and wiped his own tear stained face on the grey shirt he wore beneath his jacket.

“It’s a long story,” he croaked, his eyes distant and hazy. He patted the trunk beside him and gave Harry a faint smile. “Come on, sit with me, kiddo, I’ll tell you everything if you promise to let me finish once I start.”

Harry, who had always wanted answers and never been given leave to seek them out, only hesitated for a moment. He warily climbed up on the trunk and sat out of Sirius’ arm each.

“I promise to listen,” Harry told him softly. He looked down at his lap and twisted his dirtied school shirt in his hands.

Sirius sighed and Harry wondered what would be so hard to explain after telling him his dad was dead. Surely that had to be the worst of it.

“First, I’m sorry you thought I was James,” Sirius said, sounding earnest and pained. “I never meant for you to think that. And I’m- fuck, Harry, I’m so sorry.

“Your dad loved you so bloody much though and if I could trade places with him I’d do it in a heartbeat to give you your dad back. James was a good man, the greatest mate I’ve ever, or will ever, have.”

Harry wanted to smile. He wanted to laugh and be happy that his dad was a good man. But how could he?

Harry didn’t get to ever meet him and now he knew for sure he never would.

Sirius was oblivious to Harry’s crushing heartache when he went on. “I don’t know how much you know, but I’m assuming not much… but your parents were killed by a wizard, and- and you’re a wizard.”

Harry blinked, momentarily unimpressed. He already knew that, kind of.

“Lord Voldemort?” Harry asked Sirius, glancing up for a moment, long enough to see Sirius grimace. “Is that who killed them?”

Sirius nodded slowly, “Yeah, how’d you know that?”

Harry shrugged, unwilling to share until he knew what all Sirius knew. Sirius inched over closer to Harry’s and heaved a loud sigh.

“Well he tried to kill you too—”

Twice, Harry silently corrected him.

“—but for some reason, you survived. That green curse you used on your classmate? There’s no way to survive it, but you did.”

Harry jolted, stunned and suddenly terrified. He’d forgotten, in his shock, but if Sirius had been a dog the whole time, then he’d seen Harry kill Rowan.

“Rowan survived too,” Harry said quickly, stammering in his haste to evade arrest. “He was fine.”

Sirius frowned. “No he didn’t? I saw him die, so did you, Harry.”

Harry shook his head, sending his hair to fly around erratically. “No, he’s alive.”

“He’s dead, Harry. That principal of yours called his dad, they came and got his body directly from the woods.”

“ROWAN IS ALIVE!” Harry screamed at Sirius, his fear shaking itself and twisting until it was fury. “I DIDN’T KILL HIM!”

Sirius stared at Harry for a long moment, shadows shifting in his eyes.

“Not like those other boys then?” Sirius breathed, showing he knew much too much about Harry while being a stranger to Harry. “I hung around that old school of yours, you know, I heard things.”

Harry clasped his hands together tightly on his lap, shaking and concentrating very hard on not exploding as he had with Lucas, Brian, and Matt. Sirius had information on Harry that would send him to jail for the rest of his life, but he also had answers to all the questions Harry could never ask anyone before.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry said as calmly as he could. “I want to hear your story first.”

“That’s fine,” Sirius said. He ran a hand through his hair, clumping the dirty locks together. “When I’m done, I don’t think you’ll worry so much about me knowing about you, kiddo. I’m not exactly likely to go waltzing in their police station and turning you in.”

Harry raised a brow at that, but then he sat quietly while Sirius talked… and talked… and talked…

Sirius described a war with wizards and magic, one that sent James and Lily Potter and their newborn son into hiding. He talked about James trusting the boy in the photos, Peter Pettigrew, with their location. Sirius said that Peter betrayed them - he gave their location to Lord Voldemort.

Harry would have vowed to kill Peter, but apparently Sirius beat him to it.

“I was locked up, they thought I was the secret keeper, but Peter framed me,” Sirius told Harry, another shared pain they had, apparently. Except Harry hadn’t been framed.

“I escaped when you went missing.”

“Went missing?” Harry asked sharply. He gave Sirius a look of confusion with his brows drawn low and his nose crinkled. “I’m missing?”

“Not anymore.” Sirius laughed, a hollow sound that sounded half-mad. “When you didn’t show up to Hogwarts, the Daily Prophet reported you as missing. So… so I broke out of Azkaban, the prison, to try and find you.”

None of that made sense to Harry, not Hogwarts or Harry being missing, but especially not Sirius escaping jail to go find him. But Sirius kept talking, so Harry remained silent.

“You remember when we met?” Sirius asked Harry, his voice warm and nostalgic. “I couldn’t bear being so close, so damn close, Harry, and not talking to you. It was stupid, risky, to go in the school, but I had to meet you, even if I couldn’t tell you who I was.”

“You said you were nobody,” Harry reminded him, the words that had stuck in his brain for years. “You asked I was nobody too.”

“An old poem, one Remus used to read,” Sirius nearly smiled. “I didn’t know how much of the muggle world would recognize me or broadcast my escape, I couldn’t risk you telling anyone you saw Sirius Black in your school.”

Harry jerked his chin in a type of nod. He wouldn’t have, if Sirius asked him not to, but Harry could see why he didn’t want to risk his freedom on the word of an eleven year old.

“After I found you, I went to Hogwarts, that’s the school for witches and wizards. That’s where I went to school, your mum and dad too. I knew Albus would know why you never showed up, when you were obviously not a squib like the paper reported.”

“Who’s Albus?” Harry asked, no longer feeling restrained from questioning Sirius.

“Albus Dumbledore, he’s the wizard who runs Hogwarts,” Sirius said. “So I went to question him and that’s when I found Peter.

“I killed him.”

Harry felt a wave of savage pleasure crash over him, glad that the man who was responsible for his parents’ death was gone.

“Good,” Harry snarled quietly. He twisted his shirt especially hard and winced when he ripped a button off the bottom of the shirt.

Sirius smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Albus believed me, when I brought him Peter’s corpse, I killed him as a rat, and that’s the way he’ll stay for an eternity. Then I asked about you, kiddo, asked why you weren’t there.”

“And?” Harry asked, every muscle in his body tense.

Sirius sighed. “And he said you were too dangerous to have at Hogwarts.”

It was a mad reaction to have, but Harry had never laughed so hard in his life.

Wednesday nearly swore when she returned to the school only to find Xavier shaking his head at her.

“Harry’s not here,” he said. He stood at the gates with his cell phone in hand and his lip pulled between his teeth. “Tyler hasn’t found him either. Should we get Weems? It’s nearly dark.”

Wednesday went to push roughly past Tyler, knowing Weems wasn’t who she needed.

“As long as you’re here, Harry is safe,” she said harshly, willing the words to be true.

Because if she was wrong - if Xavier wasn’t the monster - then it could be anyone at all.

And it could have already made a snack of Harry’s internal organs.

Xavier grabbed Wednesday’s shoulder, spinning her around to glare in her face.

“I don’t care if you think I’m that monster or not,” he said darkly. “Harry’s my friend, and if he’s missing then I want to help find him.”

Wednesday ripped her shoulder from Xavier’s grip and pulled herself to her full height to scowl in his face.

“If you want to help then stay out of my way,” she warned him. “I know who can find Harry, and it isn’t Weems.”

As far as Wednesday was concerned, Weems was a useless entity, a pretty figurehead who cared more for the school than the students.

“I’m coming with you,” Xavier said stubbornly, falling in step beside Wednesday when she began storming to the main building of the school. “If we don’t find Harry in an hour, I’m getting Weems and telling her he’s missing.”

“Fine,” Wednesday snapped. “But my mother will find him more quickly.”

Xavier looked curious at her statement, but Wednesday had neither the time nor inclination to explain further. Pugsley was sitting outside, entertaining himself with piecing together what looked to be a squirrel skeleton.

“Where is Mother?” Wednesday asked him.

Pugsley looked up and Wednesday saw the puffiness around his eyes that betrayed his ‘feelings’ about their father’s arrest.

“She said she went somewhere to be alone,” Pugsley said with a pathetic and grating sniffle. “I miss Dad, Wednesday, when’s he coming back?”

“Never if I don’t clear his name,” Wednesday said truthfully. “But first, I have to find Harry. Xavier, go fetch me something of Harry’s from his room, meet me in the Nightshade lair.”

“How do you know that’s where she’ll be?” Xavier asked.

“Because it’s my mother and I know her,” Wednesday drawled. “Go, quickly.”

Wednesday gave a final glance toward her brother. She gave in to a moment of nostalgia through their shared childhood and brushed her fingers on his shoulder before leaving to go find Mother.

“I’ll get Father home,” Wednesday promised. “He’s innocent, I just have to prove it.”

Pugsley gave Wednesday a smile, the same smile he gave her before she released piranhas in the pool of boys who had stuffed him in a locker. It was a smile of trust, one that the boy Wednesday tortured for fun should hardly give her.

It was a burden of a gift.

“I’m not surprised you’re a Nightshade,” Mother said, her fingers trailing the books on the shelves as she roamed the circular library of Nevermore’s secret society. “You’re a brilliant girl, a legacy as well.”

“I told them no when they offered,” Wednesday told her simply. “They wouldn’t make room for Harry and we left.”

Mother chuckled quietly, evading Wednesday’s gaze. “Your brilliance is rivaled only by your loyalty.”

“Speaking of my brilliance,” Wednesday stepped forward and stared hard at her mother until she looked at her with dark eyes that were a cold mask for some underlying emotion that wanted to break through, “who killed Garret Gates?”

Mother smiled, her lips curling up at the edges.

“I did.”

It was unsurprising. Father would never confess to a murder unless it protected the one he loved and cherished more than any other- his wife.

“Why?” Wednesday demanded. She had time for the story while she waited for Xavier to return with something of Harry’s.

“Garret attacked us, your father and I, on the night of our final Rave’N here at Nevermore,” Mother said softly, her voice a gentle wash over Wednesday. “When he was beating your father, I was terrified that he would kill him. Garret looked possessed, he was rabid and foaming at the mouth. I drove the sword through him, pushing him from the balcony.

“Larissa had been in the courtyard and screamed, your father ushered me inside and took the blame.” Mother paused and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief monogrammed with a black G.A. “I knew then that I would never live without him. The man who took a murder charge for me? It was the most romantic thing I had ever, or will ever, see.”

“You had me until you brought up romance,” Wednesday said drily. “I can’t focus on Father’s innocence until I’ve found Harry, and I need your assistance to do so.”

There was something wrong about Mother’s story, something that didn’t fit, but the solution evaded Wednesday, drifting in the shadows of her mind, overpowered with the prickling concern of Harry’s whereabouts.

“Of course, my darling,” Mother said. “I wasn’t aware he was still missing, I apologize. Do you have something of his?”

“I do!” Xavier stormed down the stairs in suspiciously excellent timing. He had a green stocking cap in his hand, one that Wednesday would prefer to be on Harry’s head. It was chilly out and Harry was thin, he was constantly cold.

“Thank you,” Mother said, accepting the cap when Xavier tossed it to her. “Excuse me.”

Wednesday refrained from commenting on Mother’s dramatics when she plucked a candle from a bookshelf, lighting it and placing it before her on the ground. Mother sank to her knees just behind the candle and closed her eyes while she held Harry’s hat.

“Is she a psychic?” Xavier whispered to Wednesday.

“Close, she’s psychotic,” Wednesday said. Mother was also psychic, but if Xavier didn’t extrapolate that from Mother’s actions then he was unintelligent as he was possibly cannibalistic.

Mother’s body seized, as Wednesday’s did when she was plagued by a vision, and it felt as if an eternity passed before her eyes flew open with a shuddering gasp.

“Your Harry is in the woods, just north of the town square,” Mother said. “He’s alive.”

Wednesday released a breath, her tense body relaxing.

“He’s with a man, long dark hair, pale.”

“His dad!” Xavier crowed excitedly. “He didn’t think he was coming!”

Mother’s brows pulled down and she turned Harry’s hat around in her hands. “I don’t believe so, I didn’t sense any strong link to our family in the man, not like I did Harry.”

“But Harry is safe?” Wednesday asked, not liking the tightness in Mother’s lips.

Mother looked at her and shook her head. “He won’t be, not if we don’t hurry. I saw the monster you described earlier, he’s headed directly for your Harry.”

Wednesday didn’t even have time to hear Xavier’s whispered, “I told you it wasn’t me,” before she turned on her heel and fled.

It was getting dark out and Harry knew he needed to return to Nevermore soon. If he wasn’t already past curfew, he was close to it.

None of Harry’s muscles seemed to cooperate though after Sirius finished his tale and they sat in a heavy silence.

“Why now?” Harry eventually asked. “Why not tell me all this before?”

“I was ashamed,” Sirius said baldly. “I was ashamed because you could have had a different life, a better life, if I had made different decisions.”

“How?” Harry asked him. He turned on the tree to face Sirius full on and saw true sadness in Sirius’ eyes.

“When you were born, your dad- your dad named me godfather,” Sirius whispered to Harry. He reached out, scrambling to grab Harry’s hand while Harry rocked backward by yet another life-altering secret revealed.

“If I hadn’t went after Peter in the beginning, if I hadn’t killed him after I escaped, we- we would be a family now.”

Harry closed his eyes and allowed Sirius’ hands to squeeze his tightly.

All he’d ever wanted was a family, people who cared about him, loved him.

He’d thought for the last week that he had his dad back and that they’d be a family, but it wasn’t real.

And now, faced with a godfather, Harry wouldn’t have him either.

What good was freedom if Harry was always going to be alone? He was just as isolated then as he was in the 8’x8’ cell he’d lived in.

“Harry? Kiddo? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Harry nodded, jerking himself away from Sirius and nearly falling off the tree trunk.

“Fine,” Harry gasped, a lie he didn’t know why he bothered to say. “I’m fine.”

Sirius looked like he didn’t believe him, but it seemed like there were more surprises in store for him. Before either of them could say another word, a terrible snarl ripped through the woods, sending Harry and Sirius both flying to their feet.

“Shit,” Sirius swore, “the Hyde.”