Our Father's Sons // HP

Chapter Three

Sirius Black thought that he had left Number 12, Grimmauld Place behind him forever when he had run away at the age of 15.

Well, at 15 he had thought a lot of things to be true. He thought that he would never be Lord Black, that he would be an Auror.

That he and James Potter would be brothers forever.

But all that changed one Halloween night. He had gotten a Patronus message from James, one that he had never expected to receive - Peter had betrayed them to Voldemort.

He had arrived at Godric's Hollow as quickly as he could, apparating just outside James and Lily's house. The cozy home where he had spent so many evenings was a wreck, half the roof blown off. James and Lily were on the front lawn, with Albus Dumbledore.

"He's gone, Padfoot!" James had cried out triumphantly. "He tried to kill Adam, but it didn't work! He's dead!"

Sirius hadn't understood. And when he did, he had to sit down and take a breath. Voldemort, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, dead. And somehow Adam had done it. It was some kind of magical phenomenon, some kind of miracle.

It seemed like it would be one of the best nights of Sirius's life. But then James and Lily had taken the twins to St. Mungo's, to make sure they had no damage.

That was the last time he had seen his godson.

Later, when the parties were over, when the damage to Godric's Hollow had been mostly repaired, when he was done with his shift at the Ministry, he had come back to them. He wanted to see Harry and Adam, to see if they were hurt from You-Know-Who's attack. But Harry was gone.

They had sent him to the muggles, like so much trash.

"He's a squib, Sirius," James had said. "It will be better for him to be with his own kind."

Sirius had broken his nose, stormed off, and found Remus.

Remus had been just as outraged, naturally. Since then, he had barely seen James or any of the other Potter's. He had resigned as an Auror and gone to speak to his grandfather.

Because if anyone could get Harry back, it was Lord Black.

Old Arcturus had been thrilled to know that Sirius was willing to take up the mantle when he passed, and hadn't even minded that Sirius was looking for his squib godson. It had helped that Sirius had confided in him that he doubted that Harry was actually a squib, that he had seen him do accidental magic already.

He later found out, when he had gone to confront Albus Dumbledore, that the theory was that in his efforts to defeat the dark lord, young Adam had used all of the magic available, including his brother's. Such incidents of sharing magic weren't unheard of, especially among twins. But the Killing Curse was so powerful, it took all the magic available. Even Adam had been drained.

It was bullshit, Sirius was certain of it. But even if it was true, he wasn't going to abandon Harry. He would live as a muggle, if he had to, because Harry was his world.

Unfortunately, James wouldn't tell him where Harry had been placed.

"He's my godson!" Sirius had argued. "My responsibility, if you won't care for him."

James had spoken to him as if he was a child.

"He's a squib, Sirius. If he grows up in the magical world, he'll just resent us all. It's better for him this way."

And that was the last time he had spoken to James willingly. Oh, they ran into each other in the Wizengamot, of course, once Sirius took over for his grandfather. But Sirius was never swayed by James' attempt at friendly overtures. He knew the sort of man James Potter had grown to be. And it wasn't one he wanted to associate with.

He had, of course, attempted to find Harry. Legally, he had little recourse. James and Lily had signed over custody to someone, and that was that. Sirius didn't really care. If he had to, he would kidnap Harry and take him out of Britain, somewhere they couldn't be touched.

But it had been ten years, and he'd had no luck. Magical means lead to nothing, leading Sirius to assume that Harry was behind a ward of some kind. He'd even hired a muggle private investigator, through an intermediary of course, and still, nothing. Harry Potter had disappeared. Perhaps Sirius didn't have enough information - after all, he had no information besides Harry's full name - Hadrian James Potter. He had no idea where he might have gone, or who his new guardians might be.

Still, he refused to give up. He had a muggle private investigator on retainer, and if anything came up, he would know. Until then, he did what he could to distract himself from his missing godson. He worked in the Ministry, took care of House Black, and married Remus.

It wasn't enough.

He had moved back into Number 12, Grimmauld Place when his mother died. There was something therapeutic about it, about taking down her portrait, about renovating the place and tearing down the remnants of his wretched childhood. Remus helped. And he was even getting along with Kreacher these days. He had come to understand that the house elf was even more under his mother's thumb than he was, and was to be pitied rather than resented.

He was having breakfast when the owl came. At first, Sirius and Remus both ignored it. After all, Sirius got a great deal of mail, and Remus had his share, and it was hardly ever something urgent.

But the owl kept bothering them, even when Sirius tried to feed it a bit of bacon. So he opened the letter and promptly spat out his coffee on the now ruffled owl.

"Remus!" he cried out, a joyous look on his face. "It's from Harry! He's written to us! Merlin, he's going to Hogwarts!"

Remus reached over to read the letter, but Sirius tugged it out of his grasp.

"I'm not finished!" he whined.

"Then read it aloud," Remus demanded, as eager as Sirius was for word of his cub.

"Alright, alright. Dear Mr. Black,
My name is Harry Potter. Professor McGonagall told me that you were my godfather and that you were looking for me. She came to tell me about Hogwarts. I live with my aunt and uncle, the Dursley's. They don't like magic much.
Professor McGonagall is going to take me to Diagon Alley today, where I can send the letter at the post office. She says that wizards use owl's for letters. I think that's brilliant. Much better than the postman.
If you want to write or visit me, I live at Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
From,
Harry
P.S. Is it true you punched my dad after he sent me away?"

Remus was the first to recover.

"Trust old Minnie to tell him that story," he said, chuckling a little, before sobering. "But his aunt and uncle? That must mean -"

"Lily's sister," Sirius finished. "He was right under our noses, this entire time. I never imagined she would send him to her, after the fight they had in our seventh year. Do you remember? Lily was all tears on the Express."

"What was the sister's name again? Some kind of flower," Remus added. "She hated magic. More than anything. Called Lily a freak, I remember."

"And she sent her son to this woman?" Sirius said, horrified.

"Apparently."

"Well, we have an invitation to visit. I say we do it."

"Agreed. What's James going to say when Harry shows up at Hogwarts, though?" Remus asked, worried.

Sirius barked out a bitter laugh.

"Merlin, he's going to be horrified. Probably worried about the bad publicity, the prat. But I'm going to see if Harry would be my heir. If he agrees, I'll adopt him. Magically."

Remus whistled.

"You have it all planned out already, don't you Padfoot?"

Sirius smirked.

"I've got my godson back, Moony. We've got Harry back. Nothing can stop me now."