Harry Potter A New Sirius Black

Hermione turned into Ron, burying her face in his neck so the others couldn't see her renewed flow of tears. Ron hugged her close, his own eyes full of pain. "Harry?" he murmured, his voice thick with suppressed emotion. "Aren't you going to fight this?"

Harry's emerald eyes met Ron's blue ones, exhaustion and grief plain to see in their depths. Sirius's heart literally ached; he had been observing Harry for a long time, especially during his third year, and he'd seen the boy's strong spirit and willing eagerness to fight and win against any struggles that pursued him.

But the boy clinging to him now had none of that zeal in him. He looked frail, guilt-stricken, and exhausted, and Sirius's mind flashed back to the days of the First War when he, James, Lily, and the other Order fighters had returned from battles looking like that. A wild anger roared to life in Sirius again; how was it at all fair that his fourteen-year-old godson had to live with the same burdens? If anything, he had it far worse due to what the wizarding world thought and expected of him.

But Sirius decided, then and there, that he would fight twice as hard for Harry now. He swore he would return the spirit back into Harry, and he knew that the first step in this process was to allow Harry to be the child he never had the chance to be. He would take him away from all of this for a while, and fulfill the role James and Lily had trusted him with.

In response to Ron's desperate words, Harry just continued to look at him, those green eyes conveying everything he was feeling. Sirius realized that Lily and James had been open books, just like their son; their emotions were never hard to read.

"He needs to be taken care of right now, Ron," Sirius said earnestly, his voice quiet. "I promise you that I will do so. He needs to be looked after. The best way to help him right now is to support my decision."

Ron's expression didn't change, but Hermione's and Ginny's did. They caught Harry's eyes, their faces full of understanding. "We're here for you, Harry," Ginny whispered.

"We'll take care of everything here for you," said Hermione, tears still flowing freely down her face. "And don't try to stop us. Where are you taking him?" she asked Sirius, her eyes boring into his.

Sirius hesitated. He had trusted the wrong person before, someone who he thought had been one of his best friends. Did he dare do so again when it came to the well-being of his godson? Yes, Grimmauld Place was unplottable, but he still felt that the less people who knew Harry's location, the better.

Hermione saw the conflicted look on Sirius's face, and after a few seconds, she nodded. "It's okay," she said. "I know he'll be safe with you. Harry?" She turned to her best friend, who had been still and silent this entire time, still trembling. "Write to us when you can, won't you?"

Harry finally spoke. "Be safe," he said desperately. "Please be safe."

Ron looked as though his entire world was spinning. "We will, mate," he managed to say. "We're going to fight for you. We won't let them get you," he said, his face pale as he referred to the Aurors.

And then, Sirius made his move. Grasping Harry tightly, he permitted both of their hands to grasp the Muggle money. "Safety," he said, feeling a surge of irony at the single word. Grimmauld Place, safe. But, as the saying went, desperate times called for desperate measures. The last thing he saw before he and Harry were whisked away was Harry's three friends holding tightly to one another, both girls still crying and Ron looking dazed and numb. And then, they were gone.

They landed in the parlor of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry still clutched protectively in Sirius's embrace. As soon as they arrived, Harry scrambled away, and was violently sick all over the floor. Shocked, Sirius instantly waved his wand, removing the mess. "Harry? he whispered in worry. "Harry, what's wrong?"

But before Harry could answer, it hit him. The Portkey. Harry and Cedric had been taken away from the Hogwarts grounds by Portkey, and Harry had returned with his dead body to Hogwarts by Portkey. It had been less than twenty-four hours and he had already been forced to endure another one.

"Oh, Merlin," Sirius breathed, feeling like the world's worst person. "I-I'm sorry," he gasped, quickly conjuring a glass of water and handing it to Harry, who gulped it down. "I'm so stupid. God, I'm so sorry."

Harry was shaking worse than ever, but he immediately attempted to make Sirius feel better. "It's okay," he murmured. "It was probably the only way to get here, wasn't it?"

Unfortunately, Harry was right. "It was," he answered, still feeling awful. A surge of irony washed over him again; Floo travel to and from Hogwarts was very restricted, and Apparition was out of the question because time was of the essence.

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