Godfather: a Harry and Sirius AU

A Sad Beginning

A huge motorbike landed with a crash outside Godric's Hollow on Halloween night. Sirius Black stared at the house where his best friend had lived with his wife and young son, feelings of regret, dread, sorrow and guilt growing in his stomach. His whole body began to tremble and all colour drained from his handsome face as the reality of what lay before him sunk in; the right side of the top floor of the ancient cottage that stood before him had been completely blown apart.
"No," he breathed, the pain in his voice a mere inkling of how he truly felt.
His thick, shoulder-length black hair flailed in the Autumn breeze as he approached the front door he had entered so many times previously. He turned the cold brass door handle and entered a small living room. Across the room he saw the door to the dark hallway slightly ajar. He crossed the threshold and reached the door, dreading what was waiting for him on the other side. Slowly, he pushed it open and looked at the foot of the stairs. A sob issued from his quivering lips.
"James," he cried over and over, "James, James, James..."
Lying motionless at the foot of the stairs was James Potter, Sirius Black's best friend. There was no sign of a tousle, no blood, no weapons, in fact, this man looked to be in perfect health (apart from the terrified expression on his face). But, Sirius knew he would find no pulse, because his friend had been murdered, murdered by Lord Voldemort.
Had it not been for the faint sound of crying that brought Sirius back to his senses he would have stayed in a shocked stupor for hours, staring at his best friend's lifeless body. Slowly, he stepped over his friend and descended the stairs, still shaking. The crying grew louder the closer he got to the second level, and when he reached the landing he realised it was coming from the right side of the house, which was now in ruins. He crept towards the door he knew led to the room of James' son, Harry, who was also his godson, where the crying baby seemed to be. The door had been blown off its hinges. Sirius' eyes caught sight of vivid red hair fanned across the floor. He knew without looking at the woman's face that it was James' beautiful and studious wife, Lily. Like James, she looked to be in perfect health, apart from the expression of true terror on her young face. And there, standing in his cot and looking down at his mother's body, was baby Harry Potter, who looked just as Sirius had last seen him, excepting the curious lightning-bolt scar marking his forehead. The pain in his eyes turned to shock as he took a step towards the cot and the boy looked up at him; how had baby Harry survived the killing curse cast upon him by Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark sorcerer of all time? The moment he laid eyes on his godfather Harry stopped crying and reached up his arms, this was a man he knew almost as well as his own parents. Sirius picked him up and held him for a long time, what seemed like hours, until the boy was asleep and his arms were aching. Still, nothing could distract from the pain of losing his best friend and his best friend's wife. As he rocked Harry, Sirius heard movement downstairs. Not wanting to wake the baby he stayed still and alert, ready to put down his godson and grab his wand if it was Voldemort or one of his followers back for a second round. The person, or persons as it sounded, were coming up the stairs and Sirius felt his muscles tense. They had reached the landing. They were walking towards the open door, squinting in the darkness. He couldn't quite make out who it was, but he was sure he could see a long, silvery white beard.
"Sirius?" said a voice he knew well.
"Remus!"
Sirius put down the sleeping baby and embraced his other best friend, Remus Lupin. There were tears streaming down his solemn face.
"Professor Dumbledore," Sirius bowed his head to the old man with the sweeping silver beard and half-moon spectacles also standing in the doorway.
"I thought it was you who sold the Potters out to Lord Voldemort, but am I right in thinking I assumed wrong?" Dumbledore said to Sirius, peering at him over his glasses with piercing blue eyes.
"Me betray my best friend! How could you even consider it?" Sirius replied, offended.
"Yes I did think it was rather shocking, which is why I believe whole-heartedly that you are telling the truth when you say you didn't. I do however, have one question, if not you, who?"
Remus stepped out of the shadowy doorway now and spoke for Sirius.
"I believe, please correct me if I'm wrong Sirius, that you handed your secret keeper duties over to Wormtail because you thought that it was too obvious the Potters would have chosen you?"
"That is correct."
"And I think I am also right in saying that you did not choose me to be secret keeper in your place because you believed that I was the spy?" He stated, the long scars marking his face illuminated in the moonlight streaming through the crumbled ceiling.
At this Sirius' face fell.
"Please forgive me Remus, if I had known..."
"No harm done old friend," he replied with a sad smile.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"With that sorted, I think it best we alert the authorities that Mr Pettigrew is out there and capable of murder, and take poor Lily, James and Harry to somewhere safe. I understand you will want to have a proper funeral?"
"Harry?" Sirius asked, a look of confusion mixing with the sadness on his face, "Proffesor, I don't know how, but Harry is alive! Something truly obscure must have happened, because he seems to have come out unscathed bar a lightning bolt scar on his forehead!"
Amazement dawned on both the other men's faces, although the older of the two seemed to understand something the younger didn't.
"Saved by a mother's love," he smiled sadly, "so long as Lily's blood runs through his veins, Voldemort cannot touch Harry.
"This is not all good though. While it is a happy miracle that young Harry survived, he will need to be housed somewhere out of the public eye. Everyone in our world will soon know the name of Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and it is best we keep him out of all this, for until we know of Voldemort's whereabouts and condition, who knows who or what might try to harm Harry."
"Surely he would be safe with Remus and-"
"'No Sirius," Dumbledore cut him off, "it's just too dangerous. He will stay with his aunt and uncle until the time comes when he is old enough to start school, then he can live with you."
Sirius didn't know whether to be angry, sad or happy; his best friend and his wife were dead, but his godson would come and live with him, however he would have to wait another 10 years until Dumbledore would let that happen. He looked at his sleeping godson, who looked just like a tiny version of James, and a wave of gut-wrenching sadness pounded over him once more. What was life without your best friend? He may have Remus, but he wasn't like James, wasn't as carefree or lighthearted.
"I guess I'll have to look forward to the future," he thought, memories of his friends playing in his mind.