Chapter 10
Sirius gave up all hope of getting some sleep somewhere around 2am. The wind was moaning in the windows like a broken hoover, and the rain was thundering down on the roof so hard she thought the roof tiles might start sliding off. Harry had mercifully slept through all of her frantic pacing, and didn't stir now when she gave up and sat down on the bed next to his to watch him for any signs of distress, wanting to be ready if he had a nightmare.
It occurred to her after a while, with a twisting sensation in her stomach, that she wasn't even sure if one-year-olds could have nightmares. It seemed like such a simple thing to know, but no matter how much she wracked her brains, she came up empty.
You want to raise this kid, she berated herself internally. You're going to raise him, and you have no idea if he's developed the capacity to dream yet.
Prongs would have known. Lily would have known. They'd spent a sizeable chunk of Lily's pregnancy wrapped up in a haze of baby-induced panic that manifested as frantic studying; being at their house was like being back at Hogwarts during OWL season. Sirius had lost count of the number of times she'd turned up at Godric's Hollow to find Prongs snoring on the couch after pulling an allnighter, hands covered in ink and bits of parchment stuck to his face, with Lily rolling her eyes at him even as she reached the last page of her pregnancy book and immediately restarted it. By the due date, they'd known so much that they got kicked out of their first (and only) attempt at covertly attending a birthing class for smugly correcting every other thing the teacher said.
Sirius only knew what she'd picked up from being around them, occasionally quizzing them when they asked, and later from watching them bring up Harry. She hadn't studied anywhere near as much as they had - she'd never even had to babysit. James and Lily had never been away from Harry long enough.
But, she acknowledged grimly, even if she had, she wouldn't know what she needed to know now. Somehow, even when James had asked her to be godmother with that look in his eyes, the one that said he was anticipating the very real possibility that Sirius might have to be more to Harry than his fun auntie who taught him about music and pranks, that she might have to raise him - somehow, she'd never thought to find out what to do with a baby who saw his parents die.
Harry snuffled in his sleep, and Sirius was seized with a torrent of grief so sudden and fierce that she doubled over, sobbing far too hard for any noise to come out. Her head rang with the unfairness of it all, that Lily and James didn't get to hear Harry's adorable noises while they rocked him to sleep, that Harry didn't get parents to sing to him while they tucked him up in bed. He didn't get the quidditch-themed mobile or the moth-eaten teddy bear that had been Lily's when she was little. He didn't get the warm home and the cozy nursery that got repainted five different times while James and Lily argued about gender roles (Prongs had been adamantly against painting it blue or pink and Lily had agreed with him in principle but James that shade of yellow is objectively hideous just look at these swatches please-)
Harry didn't get to have a mum and dad. Instead he got random hostels and suspiciously stained mattresses and long cross-country journeys on stolen brooms. He got fascists trying to kill him and the people trying to kill the fascists trying to send him to live with shitty relatives who'd probably make him live under the stairs or something. He got emotionally-constipated godmothers with a plethora of their own issues to work through, who could only just trust each other enough to keep all of them safe, who were just barely rebuilding the relationship that Sirius had torched...
When she was younger, all Sirius had wanted was a proper family. People who loved her, who wanted her around, who didn't fluctuate between icy silences and apoplectic rage whenever she was in the room. When Harry was born, she'd thought that she would finally get to see it. They all had - James and Lily, still mourning their own parents; Remus, so tired of going home to see her father flinch away from her rather than look at her scarred face; Peter, too terrified of losing his mother to risk contacting her. They had all said it at the time, that they would do it right, that they'd give Harry everything they were missing out on.
Only Sirius had fucked it up. She'd fucked absolutely everything up. She suggested switching secret-keepers. She failed to see Peter's betrayal coming. She alienated Remus.
She didn't get there in time to save them.
She'd fucked up, irretrievably and unforgivably.
Tears poured hot and fast down her face as her breath caught in her chest and burst out in ragged, gasping sobs. She heard herself whine - small and sad, like a wounded animal, grabbed a pillow to bury her face in and, very quietly, let herself wail.
She must have slept at some point, because the next thing she knew, she was jerking up from being slumped back against the wall behind her with a crick in her beck and the damp pillow in her lap. Her eyes were sore, crusty with dried tears. Her head hurt. The room was still dark, and deathly quiet.
She scrambled up, panic plunging her heart into her gut, and flung herself across the narrow space, hand flying to her wand, ready to-
Harry was still curled up under his blankets, breathing slow and steady. All the wards were still in place. A huff of relief punched out of Sirius and she collapsed back into her bed like a marionette with its strings cut. She reached across the gap between the beds and stroked Harry's wispy hair back from his forehead, reassuring herself with the warmth of his skin and the way his fingers twitched occasionally in his sleep, like he was catching tiny snitches. As she watched, he stretched and kicked his feet under the covers before settling back down. A little bubble of love burst in Sirius' chest, washing back some of the heaviness, easing the tightness in her throat.
This is one thing you can do, she told herself. This is one thing you can salvage.
She sat there for a long time, watching over Harry and trying to clear the clouds in her mind, until she noticed the faintest tinge of light creeping in through the gaps in the blinds. Frowning, she checked the time - it was almost 7:30.
The moon must have set hours ago.
Remus should have been in contact by now.
Sirius closed her eyes and took long, deep breaths until the encroaching panic retreated enough for her to think properly. She took careful stock of her options and fumbled for the plans she'd been sketching out in her head before her sobbing fit.
The rain had stopped at some point; when Sirius looked out of the window, it was to find half-frozen puddles and a man in a huge coat shivering violently as he hurried down the otherwise empty street, blowing into his cupped hands, breath misting in the air like cigarette smoke. No amount of warming spells would make her feel okay about taking Harry with her to search the mountains. She and Remus had already agreed that his safety had to be prioritised over absolutely everything else.
Nothing for it, then. She'd have to take him somewhere safe and go from there.
Everything hurt.
It took Remus a moment to realise she was human again. Her entire body ached with bone-deep exhaustion, her head was pounding and something was wrong with her left hand, something was incredibly fucking wrong-
She blinked hard and tried to focus. It didn't really work. She was vaguely aware of her surroundings, a small, bright space with a low ceiling. She was propped up on a soft surface, wrapped up in a heavy blanket that smelled and felt entirely unfamiliar.
Someone else was in the room with her. She jerked, yelped when it made her arm seize horribly with pain, ignored it to try and struggle upright. A hand landed on her shoulder.
"Calm down, it's okay," said whoever it was, quiet and soothing with a lilting Welsh accent. "Judd's just gone to call an ambulance, they'll be along in a tick, you need to keep that hand still-"
Remus didn't hear the rest of what they said. Her head felt like it had been replaced with a balloon, full and bursting and far too light. Nausea roiled in her gut and blackness pulled at the edges of her vision. She was only aware of being lowered back down onto the pillows before she passed out.
Minerva McGonagall took a lot of pride in her spellwork. Even though charms weren't her forte, that was somewhat relative; one didn't become the first woman featured on the cover of Transfiguration Today without a strong knowledge base for every area of magic.
It was for this reason that she had to take a moment to stop and rub her eyes incredulously when she opened the door to renew her external wards not long after sunrise, and found Sirius Black outside her front gate with a broomstick and a sleeping baby in her arms, mostly concealed by a disillusionment charm.
"What in Merlin's name..."
The wards really must have needed recasting, because Black jerked at the sound of her voice and sighed with relief. "Oh thank fuck," she said. "I wasn't sure if I had the right place, these wards are-"
Minerva jerked the barrier aside with her wand. "Get inside, daft girl," she hissed, pulling the door open wider and stepping aside so Black could jump the gate and scuttle over the threshold. She took another moment to send a few detection spells into her front garden and the street beyond it, but no threats seemed forthcoming. She recast the wards, slammed the door and turned to face Black, who was backed up against the stairs in the hallway, disillusionment charm gone, clutching Harry against her chest and staring at her shoes like a chastised schoolgirl.
"Take that look off your face," Minerva said. "You were never properly ashamed of yourself when you should have been, no need to start now."
Black flushed but looked up to meet Minerva's eyes. "Professor, listen," she said. "I know what you must be thinking but you need to let me expla-"
"I don't need to do a damn thing, Miss Black," Minerva said briskly. "Stop hovering in my hallway like a frightened doxy and come with me - and take your shoes off, did you wade through a swamp on your way here?"
With that, she strode through to the kitchen at the back of the house. She lit the range, started some water boiling and rooted through the cupboards for everything she needed while Black clumped about in the corridor removing her mud-encrusted boots. She appeared a few moments later, still holding Harry like she expected Minerva to grab him out of her arms and run.
"You're going to squeeze all the air out of the poor lad," Minerva told her. "Sit down, get yourselves warmed up."
She flicked her wand and the old iron radiator by the table clanked to life. Black cautiously lowered herself into a chair and woke Harry so she could get him out of his hat, coat and mittens, murmuring reassurances to him when he started to fret. Minerva kept her back to them and concentrated on what she was doing. Neither of them said anything until there were two cups of tea, a jug of milk and three bowls of porridge on the table. Minerva piled some cookbooks onto a chair so Harry could reach the table on his own. She watched while Black fussed over him, making sure he wasn't going to tip out of his seat, stirring his porridge to cool it down and digging a baby cup out of her rucksack to fill up with milk for him. The child's forehead was almost blurry with concealment charms. Minerva waved them away so she could get a proper look at him. Black froze.
"From the attack?" Minerva guessed, eyeing the scar and assessing the scope of the damage as she pushed Black's teacup towards her. Black added milk and took a hasty sip without bothering to stir, as if to fortify herself.
"Yes. We've done our best with healing spells, but it hasn't faded. He hasn't showed any signs of internal damage, we'd have turned ourselves in straight away and gotten him to hospital if he had."
Minerva held eye contact for a long moment, and nodded shortly. "Alright then."
She drizzled some honey into her bowl and started to eat. Black gaped at her.
"Are you seriously - you're just going to sit there and eat porridge?"
"What else am I meant to be doing? It's not even nine in the morning."
"Professor."
Minerva sighed and put down her spoon. "Whatever you have to say for yourself, it can wait until we've all got some food in us."
"What I have to say is urgent, Professor."
"I am perfectly capable of reading context. The kind of day you're about to have, you'll need your strength up. Eat your breakfast, Black."
"I... fine. Merlin, fine."
They ate quietly; only Harry broke the silence with occasional mumbles and disjointed words while Black fed him one-handed, gulping tea at the same time.
"Dat," he said when his bowl was empty, pointing at the salt shaker in the middle of the table.
Black emptied it with a wave of her wand and handed it to him. He immediately threw it onto the floor and then reached for it with a whine when it skittered away across the tiles.
"Well what did you expect?" Black asked him, exasperated, but she summoned it back anyway. "Is it alright for him to play for a bit, Professor?"
"Yes, just keep him away from the oven."
Black nodded and charmed the shaker so it sprouted legs, then put it and Harry down on the floor. The skater scuttled off towards the pantry. Harry toddled after it with a shriek of laughter.
"Now then," Minerva said, scraping the bottom of her bowl. "About your situation."
Black groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. "Look," she said. "I'm not sure why you haven't stunned me and called in the Order yet-"
"Do I need to?"
"No."
"Are you working for the Death Eaters?"
"No."
"Well then."
Black stared. Minerva gave her a look.
"We may be occasionally slow on the uptake, Miss Black, but we're not entirely useless," she said. "We've been gathering information for weeks, we're perfectly aware of your motives. You just wanted to stop us sending him to his aunt and uncle, yes?"
"Yes. That and keep him safe from the Death Eaters. We weren't sure if you'd - I mean, we were hoping you'd figure it out, but..."
She trailed off.
Minerva sighed. "May I address the hippogriff in the room?" she asked. "I'm assuming Miss Lupin's absence - and your sudden emergence from hiding - has something to do with last night's full moon. Am I correct?"
"Yes."
In the background, Harry chased the salt shaker into the living room, chortling.
"What is it you need from me, Black?"
"I need you to look after Harry. Keep him safe while I find Remus. She - she went out into the mountains alone last night, she didn't have a choice, there was nowhere to lock her up and I couldn't-"
Black stopped talking and clapped a hand over her mouth. Minerva elected to ignore that for now.
"You're concerned that she's injured herself in some way?"
"She told me she'd send a message as soon as she came back to herself and got hold of her wand. That should have happened hours ago. Something's gone wrong."
Minerva nodded. "Alright. But you wouldn't be making a face like that if your only request was that I look after the child."
Black chewed her lip. "I need you to not tell the Order. Or Professor Dumbledore. At least not yet. I know you said you're aware of my motives, but... I also know Dumbledore has is own plans, and I know he has some very specific reason for wanting to send Harry to his blood relatives."
"He does. I'm not going to tell you the details."
"Didn't think you would." Black sighed and finished her tea. "Will you do it?"
Minerva considered her options and didn't answer for a long moment. "You'll notice that I'm not asking why you haven't suggested that you take refuge here with Harry while I search for Miss Lupin," she said. "And I'm not asking how exactly you plan on finding her."
Black eyes were wide as she stared at Minerva, frozen. "You're not asking," she repeated.
"No. And I'm not asking how much you know about certain aspects of Peter Pettigrew's current circumstances, regardless of whether you really did convince the Potters to make him secret keeper. How he has continually evaded capture when he is not nearly as skilled in concealment as you or Miss Lupin, for instance."
Black breathed in and let it out slowly. "You're not asking," she said again. Then, "You put veritaserum in my tea, didn't you?"
"A very small amount. Just enough to ensure that you wouldn't outright lie to me. I am certain you understand why."
"I do. I think I'd have been more surprised if you hadn't." She paused. "For the record - while this stuff is still... while I can't lie, I want you to know that I would have died first. Before betraying Lily and James, I mean. I would have looked You-Know-Who in the eyes, dropped my wand and let him kill me, if that was what it took to keep them safe. I thought it would come to that, and I was prepared for it. I suggested the switch, suggested Peter keep the secret, because I didn't want there to be any chance of him finding something when he came for me. Legilimency, the cruciatus curse - I was prepared for all of it. That's why I did it. And the fact that I didn't anticipate what Peter would do... I'll never forgive myself for that."
Minerva studied Sirius' face. She fought against the urge to start crying for these children, these soldiers. For what the world had forced them to become, so quickly and so brutally. When she spoke, her voice didn't tremble. She was rather proud of herself for that.
"Go and find Miss Lupin," she said. "I will keep Harry safe. I won't tell the Order, or Albus. I give you my word."
Sirius closed her eyes and nodded, face tight with emotion. "Thank you."
It looked like it might rain again, by the time Sirius apparated into the mountains. She'd have to work quickly. Looking around at the continuous rolling hills, dipping up and down on all sides like waves, the peaks dropping away sharply into the valleys, she allowed herself a moment to shiver in the cold, to let the worry and then the resolve settle into her gut. Remus was here somewhere. She just had to find her.
She clamped her wand between her teeth and transformed without letting herself dwell any further. Her thoughts settled, simplified, and Padfoot sniffed the air, searching for even the faintest trace of a scent to follow.
Find Remus, was all that ran through her head. Find Remus.