direction of the girls' dormitories and frowned. The tower still smelled like Mia after all
these years. It was painful, and it took him a second to collect himself before
remembering why he was even there.
Wormtail. Wormtail. Must kill Wormtail.
Sirius silently crept up the stairs and into the room where the third years were
sleeping soundly. He used the now familiar scent of Harry to guide him. Unable to stop
himself, he first went to Harry's bed. Slowly and silently, he opened the curtains to look
down at the boy—his boy.
Almost grown up, Sirius thought to himself as he stared at his sleeping godson. The
last time he'd had a chance to do such a thing, Harry had been only a year old.
Sirius reached a hand out, tempted to brush the messy, black hair from the sleeping
boy's forehead, but he caught sight of his own hand in the moonlight. Filthy skin and long,
dirt-encrusted fingernails. He pulled his hand back, not wanting to taint Harry further by
his presence, let alone physical contact. He closed the curtain quietly and turned around to
face the other bed where the kneazle told him that the rat often slept with the red-haired
boy.
Hands shaking, Sirius gripped his knife tightly and, unable to stop himself, sliced
the blade straight through the curtains, pulling them aside in search of the rat. When there
was no sight of Wormtail, he panicked. No, no, no...
"Where is he?" Sirius growled under his breath, unaware that he'd done so aloud.
A pair of cerulean blue eyes slowly opened, and Sirius stared down into the face of
the boy who looked up at him with fearful recognition.
Fuck, Sirius thought, just as the young wizard began screaming.
February 6th, 1994Remus had thought about talking to Harry about Hermione during their anti-
dementor lessons, but he decided against being too personally involved. Already, Harry
was asking questions that Remus did not know how to answer. It was a constant struggle