The Hidden House

It had been over a month since Sirius and Remus had moved into the Hidden House, and they had already weathered two full moons. The bomb shelter was repurposed during the full moon to accommodate Remus. The pair transfigured the shelves into chains that would prevent him from being able to escape and wreak havoc. Remus insisted that he was not bothered by the setup, but Sirius could not help but think back to their time at Hogwarts when the four friends would go galavanting through the forbidden forest so that Remus wouldn’t have to stay locked up in the shrieking shack. 

Remus did not share Sirius’s sentiments, as for the first time since they had all left Hogwarts, he was not alone on the full moon. Both nights Sirius had joined him in the bunker as Padfoot and stayed by his side until he was no longer a werewolf. The transformations were still as painful as ever, but at least when he came back to himself, he wasn’t alone. In many ways, the past month spent in hiding with his best friend had been the best he had had in the four years since he had started fighting in the war. 

James and Lily visited as often as possible, though they had only brought Harry over once. He was still thrilled to have had the chance to meet the tiny version of his friends. Harry was the spitting image of James, right down to his fondness for troublemaking. He had spent the entire day zooming around on his little toy broom, forcing the nearest person to read to him, or asleep in Sirius’s arms. After meeting Harry, Remus understood why Sirius was so willing to give up everything to protect him. He was only one year old, but he had the four of them wrapped around his tiny finger. 

Sirius had noticed that the Potters seemed to have been doing better since he and Remus had moved into Hidden House. He had been worried that James might do something stupid and get himself killed for a while, but now that he was allowed to leave his cottage, even just to visit them, he seemed more like his old self. 

He would be lying if he said he was not feeling better being around James. While he was restless and often found himself dodging sleep by inspecting his motorcycle in the living room, he felt less restricted now than he had two months prior. While he had not been in hiding then, he had been alone. Now he was surrounded by his friends, and though he still woke up from nightmares almost every night, Remus was there with chocolate when he did. They were still recovering, but there was peace in knowing they were not recovering alone. 

He hated that they had not been able to share the location of the Hidden House with Peter. It was a comfort to know that Peter was safe at Dumbledore’s side, but he did not trust Dumbledore with his safety. He wanted more than anything to have Peter over for dinner, but if he told Dumbledore that he knew where Sirius was, he could lose the protection that came with being in charge of all of Dumbledore’s intel. 

Tonight was Halloween, and although he would be able to celebrate with Remus, James, and Lily, he wanted Peter to be there as well. As it was, James had told Peter that he and Lily were going out looking for Sirius, and they needed Peter to babysit. It was Lily’s idea, but Sirius did not love it. Still, he understood why the Potters needed a break from being parents for one night, and what better excuse was there to let loose than Halloween? 

It would not be the most elaborate celebration, just lots of food, firewhiskey, and butterbeer shared by a fire, but it was a break all the same. They were all looking forward to an opportunity to pretend the war wasn’t happening. James and Lily would be arriving in an hour, and Remus and Sirius were enjoying cooking the feast. It was more of a mix of whatever they knew how to make. Neither of them was a very good cook, but the shepherd's pie smelled good, and so did the popcorn. Once they had enough firewhiskey in them, they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference anyway. 

Remus had music playing from a record player that had been left by the muggles Sirius had bought the house from. The sound of the Beatles filled the house. The pair was so caught up in singing along that they did not notice the arrival of Lily and James until they joined in with the song, James pulling Lily into the living room to dance with him. Sirius had not listened to any muggle music since Hogwarts, and he had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. 

Together they shouted the words to “Here Comes the Sun” and danced their hearts out. When the record ended, Sirius went looking for more music to fill the air. He shouted triumphantly as he pulled out the Dark Side of the Moon album from Pink Floyd. “Us and Them” started playing first, and James pulled Remus into a slow dance as Lily joined Sirius in singing along while he pulled the shepherd's pie out of the oven. 

The rest of the night followed the same theme, with music filling the air and each grabbing bites of food and shots between songs. It was nearing 10 o’clock when they finally collapsed together on the couch, laughing and pleasantly drunk. It was 10:30 when they all shot awake at the horrifying sound of wards going off. The sound was blaring from Lily’s wand, and Sirius had not even processed what that meant before she and James took off down the hallway to the bunker. They were already halfway there when he realized that the wards were not going off at his house but in Godrics Hollow. 

Sirius jumped off the couch, Remus on his heels. They reached the apparition point less than a minute after James and Lily. Remus grabbed Sirius’s arm tightly and closed his eyes; no idea where they were going but hoping they all made it back. They arrived in what looked like a warzone. The cottage had been ripped in half and was still smoking. James and Lily were both lying on the street outside the house. The only thought on Sirius’s mind was Harry. 

“Remus, go check on them! I am going after Harry!” Sirius took off running inside the house, leaping over the rubble. There was no sign of Peter as he sprinted up the stairs. Nothing could have prepared him for the scene before him as he entered Harry’s bedroom. Voldemort was lying dead on the ground, and Harry was standing in his crib, looking up at him with clear green eyes and blood trailing down his face. 

He did not stop to think about the repercussions of what that cut might mean before he scooped Harry up in his arms and ran back out of the house. He did not trust the floor not to fall from beneath him as he ran down the stairs. It wasn’t until he was back outside the house that he realized he had been holding his breath. He hurried toward where Remus was crouching over James and Lily, not letting himself look at their faces, prepared for the worst. 

“Are they?” Sirius couldn’t finish the sentence. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking.

“They’re alive, Sirius. They’re just unconscious. It looks like they must have arrived right at the moment the house exploded. It must have knocked them back pretty hard, but they’re still alive.” Sirius let out a breath, trying to understand what could possibly have happened. Peter was missing, Voldemort was dead, Harry was hurt, and Lily and James were unconscious outside. 

“Okay, you stay here with James and Lily. I am going to go find McGonnagal. She can take the three of them to St. Mungos. When she arrives, you go back to our house and stay there until I come back.” Remus just nodded back to him, taking Harry from his arms. Usually, he would have made a wisecrack about Sirius giving orders, but they both understood the gravity of the situation. Sirius turned on his heel and disappeared. 

After the familiar feeling in his gut, Sirius found himself appearing in Hogsmeade. He wished he could have simply apparated into Hogwarts, but now was not the time for wishing. He shifted into Padfoot and took off running toward the school, faster on four legs than on two. It felt as though it took him an hour to reach the school. All he could think about was how cold his friends must be on that street in Godrics Hollow. Harry might still be bleeding. That and the words that Lily had spoken in comfort after she had cast the Fidelius charm. A secret keeper could only share the knowledge intentionally. It could not even be forced out by torture. Peter had betrayed them.

When he finally reached McGonnagals office, he shifted back to his human form and pounded on the door. He was screaming and must have looked insane from the expression on McGonnagal’s face. He did not care if he looked insane; he trusted her and needed to know the Potters would be safe. 

“Sirius!” She exclaimed, “What are you doing here? You’ve been missing for a month! It’s the middle of the night!” She was frantic, which he knew was his fault. He wouldn't need to calm her down now if he had taken a moment to calm down himself before pounding on her door. 

“Minnie!” He knew the name would shock her into listening to him, “The Potters!” He shouted as soon as he knew he had Minerva’s undivided attention. “Voldemort showed up. They’re alive, Remus is looking after them, but he’s not allowed in St. Mungos. You need to get them to safety!” McGonnagal patted his face and nodded before running down the hall, her nightdress trailing behind her. Sirius knew better than to follow her. She would take care of his friends. He needed to take care of his new enemy. 

***

It was well past midnight when Sirius finally cornered Peter on a busy street in London. He knew the pubs that Peter frequented. He had taken him there several times himself. The rat had the audacity to go out drinking and shouting about how the war was over. Sirius caught him just as he was stumbling out of a pub. 

The moment he saw him, the image of Harry’s bleeding head popped into his mind, and he blinded him. He was moving before he was even aware of what he was doing, charging down the street with one thought on his mind. Peter Pettegrew had to die. He was so focused on ending Peter’s life that he didn’t notice that Peter was suddenly standing still. In fact, once Sirius was close enough to curse him, he realized that Peter did not look drunk at all. 

Peter Pettegrew was not an exceptionally skilled wizard when it came to most topics of study, but if there was one thing that he had always excelled in, it was survival. He had witnessed the explosion at Godrics Hollow, and he had known what it had meant. His master was dead. When he saw James and Lily appear just as the house blew, he knew that Sirius Black would not be far behind and disapparated. Peter had witnessed the rage of Sirius black back at Hogwarts. Snape was the target back then, but Peter had recognized the threat. 

He had disapparated to one of his favorite pubs, knowing he had a few hours at most before Sirius realized what had happened and went looking for him. He used his time wisely. It had taken him twenty minutes to realize that Dumbledore still believed that Sirius Black was the secret keeper for the Potters. An hour later, he realized that even if the Potters had survived to tell the truth about him, Sirius Black could still be sent to Azkaban if Peter framed him for murder. 

It would be simple to do. Sirius wanted to kill him anyway. All he had to do was make his location obvious in a pub where Sirius knew to look for him, pretend to be drunk, and wait for Sirius. He arrived an hour after Peter, and the look on his face made Peter question his plan for a moment, but it was too late to change his mind. He pulled out the knife he had hidden in his pocket and quickly sliced off his ring finger, doing his best not to scream at the pain. As Sirius charged down the street toward him, it was time for the final step of his plan. 

“James and Lily, Sirius! How could you!” Peter screamed just as Sirius drew his wand to attack. That was the final piece he needed. Just as Sirius opened his mouth to kill him, Peter pointed the wand he had hidden behind his back at the nearby group of Muggles and blasted a crater large enough to kill nearly all the bystanders. 

Sirius watched Peter transform into a rat and scurry away, helpless as the explosion blew him down the street. His head hit the pavement and knocked him out before he could do anything to stop the damage that Peter had left in his wake. He had a sinking feeling that he had done exactly what Peter had wanted him to, and now his former friend was free.

The first thing that Sirius noticed when he opened his eyes was chaos. The road had been blasted apart by Peter’s spell, and there were bodies everywhere. The sound of apparation filled the air as aurors arrived on the scene. They cast calming spells everywhere, and the sound of screams slowly faded as the spells took effect. Sirius slowly stood, looking at the horror that Peter had left in his wake. It had not been enough to betray the Potters. He had now murdered so many muggles. Sirius felt hysteria rise in his chest as he looked around, terrified laughter pouring out of him. He had trusted Peter, had insisted he be the secret keeper, hadn’t thought twice about him babysitting Harry, and now he had done this. 

The aurors noticed him as he lay on the street, still laughing. He briefly considered explaining what had happened to them, but he didn’t get the chance. The auror pulled out his wand and stunned him before he had an opportunity to say a word.     

The next time Sirius opened his eyes, he wished he hadn’t. He didn’t need the auror to tell him where he was. He had visited it often enough in his worst nightmares. The feeling was enough to give it away. Even thinking about how James, Lily, and Harry were still alive was not enough to reduce the weight on his chest. 

“You deserve this, you know. Pretending to be their friend all those years only to betray them like this. Your master is dead now. You lost. I hope it was worth it.” He didn’t recognize the auror who spat at him as he left, but his words cut him to his core all the same. He couldn’t help but feel himself agreeing with him. He had failed them. He was their friend, and he had set up the circumstances that would’ve killed them. Then he failed to avenge the betrayal. 

He leaned against the cell's back wall and slid down it until he was seated. It was filthy and damp. All he had was a twin-sized mattress in the corner and a tiny toilet against the wall. His window was only six inches wide and was slightly jammed open, just enough to let in the cold November wind. He let his head fall into his hands, the pressure in his chest growing as the reality of his situation hit him. He would die here. They had brought him here without a trial, half the order hated him for his name, and nobody left Azkaban once they entered. 

The pressure kept building, and he found himself wishing he could cry if only to relieve some of it, but the tears wouldn’t fall. Instead, he found himself struggling to breathe in the cell's darkness. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know when the dementors were passing by. It could be because he was the newest inmate, but they seemed to be paying him special attention. He pushed himself back into the darkest corner of the cell and pulled the blanket off the bed and over himself. He counted the seconds between the horrors that the passing evil forced him to relive. 

When he had left Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night and found himself beaten and bloody on the doorstep of the Potter residence, he had vowed never to speak of what had happened. James had never questioned that, never pushed him to tell him what had led to his arrival. He had only taken him inside and brought him to Fleamont and Euphemia, who had healed his wounds and escorted him to his new room. The dementors wouldn’t let him relieve that part of the memory. He wasn’t allowed to see the witch and wizard, who he considered his real parents. He wasn’t allowed the comfort of his best friend helping him to recover. 

Instead, he was back on the drawing room floor, hearing his mother’s hate-filled voice scream “crucio,” followed by the thud as his head was thrown back into the wall. He witnessed his name being burned off of the Black family tree over and over and over. He thought he would eventually grow numb to the memories, but that wasn’t happening. The only comfort he found was laying flat against the cold stone floor and letting his body grow cool, the physical discomfort grounding him in reality.