Three Hallows' Eve || Harmione & Jily

Chapter 1.2

Something was very wrong, Sirius Black realised once he'd finished searching Peter Pettigrew's house for his missing friend. He racked his brain trying to think of the last time he'd seen or heard from the younger man, settling on the fact that it had been nearly a week now. A bead of sweat ran down Sirius's spine. If Peter had been captured... it didn't bear even thinking about.

In an instant he turned on his heel and apparated to just outside of Godric's Hollow, quickly looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody had borne witness to his sudden appearance. Satisfied that he'd been neither noticed nor followed, he set off on a quick march into the village. The bells of the church, St Jerome's if he remembered correctly, tolled as he paced around the corner of Church Lane onto Ash Close, at the end of which was the Potters' cottage.

He moved to the end of the street at a near run, but stumbled and his progress halted the moment he laid eyes on the small house. The chimney stack was still dutifully expelling smoke from the fire and the kitchen lights were turned on. That was about all that looked regular about the house though. The front door was missing - its frame shattered and splintered, and the wall around it cracked. Worse still, almost half of the thatched roof was completely missing above the nursery.

The nursery. Sirius's blood ran cold. Harry.

At the thought of his godson having come to harm, he sprinted up to the house, wand in hand. On reaching the now empty door frame, he found the door itself in pieces lying up to ten feet into the hallway. On the floor of the small living room at the back of the house lay James, perfectly still, his lifeless eyes facing the stairs. Sirius felt his heart fall through his feet and tears began to stream down his face. Numbly, his feet carried him upstairs towards the nursery.

The nursery door had been shattered in much the same way that the front door had been, and the sight caused Sirius's tears to make themselves known as choked sobs. Almost reluctantly, he approached the room. While seeing the state of the door had nearly brought the man to his knees, seeing the scene inside definitely did.

Lily lay on the ground, eyes pointing towards Harry's cot. She looked as graceful as ever, even in death, which had him struggling to see through the blur of his tears. To her right lay one of the many escape bags he knew were dotted around the house, and one of the ruby brooches he knew to be an emergency portkey was sitting loosely in the palm of her hand.

To her left lay a cloaked man, whose wand was in three pieces beside his hand. The hood of his cowl had fallen back to reveal chalk-white skin stretching horribly over a hairless head, a serpentine nose and blood-red eyes. The monster was certainly dead - of that there was no doubt - though that was of little consolation to Sirius who had turned to face the cot.

Harry was still sitting upright, leaning back against the side of the cot which stood flush with the wall. His bright green eyes, so like Lily's own, looked to be staring up at a point above Sirius' head, obviously where Voldemort had been standing before him, but they held none of the laughter, none of the childish joy nor the cheeky glint he'd come to recognise. Tonight they were completely dull and empty. On his forehead above his right eye was a bleeding cut shaped like the Sowilo rune.

Sirius crawled across the floor to the cot and cried out in anguish, reaching in to pick up the toddler. Desperately, he checked for a pulse but, as expected, found none and just held him tightly to his chest, swaying and murmuring apologies for what might have been an eternity. He gently closed Harry's eyes and brushed his hand through his thin hair before placing a delicate kiss on his forehead.

As his sobs turned to sniffles, he rose to place Harry back in his cot, before covering him with his blanket. Into the silence, he whispered hoarsely, 'Goodnight, Pup,' and turned to face Lily. Wiping his face, he absently thought he'd never be able to cry again after the amount he had cried tonight.

'Na-night, Pa'foo,' a small voice responded, and in his grief Sirius very nearly missed it. Nearly falling over himself, he turned on his heel to find his godson rolling onto his front sleepily. As it happened, he definitely did still have more tears left to cry.

-oOo-o-oOo-

Author's Notes: Thanks for reading this first chapter of Three Hallows' Eve. This is going to be a long story with plenty of regular updates, so be sure to follow so you don't miss out.

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