Oh, My Godson

Sirius dwelt on his memories of Harry's birth so often that it seemed to him that it had all just happened days before. He'd been on a date with Catriona Macnair, more to irritate the girl's parents than out of a real interest in her. Catriona came from a family which staunchly believed in blood purity, and Sirius, an outcast of the Black family, was not good enough for their daughter. The challenge was, of course, too much to resist, and it wasn't hard to charm the girl into defying her parents and spending a night with a blood traitor. Sirius was more than half-sure that her brother, Walden, was a Death Eater, and he was hoping that as an added bonus, he might glean some information to pass back to the Order.

He'd taken her to the best wizard restaurant in London. All the waiters had been wearing pristine, understated dress robes. They'd greeted the couple with the customary obsequious sneers and served them fancy gastronomic concoctions in portions so tiny, Sirius knew that he would have to eat again as soon as he escaped the fair lady's clutches. Catriona was playing the cool, disdainful pure-blood, and if Sirius was honest with himself, he'd been bored. Catriona was obviously enjoying going slumming, but she had about as much wit and intelligence as a Remembrall. The entertainment of deceiving her parents was well and truly wearing off, and he was even losing the desire to kiss her at the end of the date.

In an attempt to stop himself from laughing at the girl's inane comments, Sirius was gripping the tablecloth hard with one hand. The other was under the table, wielding a fork. He periodically poked the tines into his wrist to keep himself focussed on the conversation. This was really one of the worst dates he'd ever had.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and James appeared, his black hair even more untidy than usual. The music and the low murmur of conversation in the room stopped. As if they were all controlled by the same Imperius Curse, every waiter in the room turned and glared at them. There were no Anti-Apparition Jinxes on the restaurant, but it was clearly understood that some things were just not done in this place. The manager advanced on them, his expression thunderous. The head of every diner swivelled in their direction.

Without more than a passing glance at Catriona, and with no heed for the commotion he had caused in the rest of the restaurant, James grabbed Sirius's arm and hauled him to his feet. "It's happening!" he gasped. "Sirius, you've got to come with me. It's happening right now!"

Sirius was still gripping the tablecloth. As James pulled him up, it was dragged with him, and everything on it crashed towards Catriona. Red, green and brown sauces spattered all over her pure white gown. Wineglasses slid off the table and smashed on the floor at her feet, splashing red wine all over the delicate fabric of her shoes. Crockery shattered. Cutlery scattered everywhere.

"Siriuuuuuuuus!" Catriona drew his name out in an outraged shriek. "How could you do this to me? My dress! My shoes!"

"Your hair!" Sirius finished for her, fishing a long piece of spaghetti out of her elegant coiffure. He grinned at her impudently, winked, and pressed his lips to her cold, sauce-stained cheek. "You are an awful mess, aren't you?"

James seemed too distracted for contrition. "It's happening now, Sirius!" he hissed urgently, ignoring Catriona.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Sirius grinned, emptying a pile of gold from his pockets onto the bare wood of the table. "I'm sure that will cover the bill. Use any left over to buy yourself a new dress, Catriona. Later!" As an afterthought, he wiped the sauce from her face off his mouth.

Perhaps the most satisfying part of the evening was the outraged expression on his date's face as she stared at the pile of gold. As he Disapparated, Sirius smirked. The Macnairs prided themselves on their large fortune and were quick to take offence at even the most imagined of slights. Suggesting Catriona couldn't afford a new dress was the worst sort of insult he could have come up with. He'd succeeded in irritating the Macnairs without even having to sleep with the girl. He hadn't obtained the intelligence he had hoped for, but otherwise this date was a complete success.

James, however, seemed not to have registered that there'd been any sort of commotion at all. The two men re-Apparated inside the lounge room of his house. Normally, Lily kept the house pristine, despite James's tendency to toss things about the place, but that day, it showed signs that her attention was otherwise occupied. A pair of shoes lay carelessly tossed upon the floor, a cloak had slid off the coat-rack, and in the kitchen, just visible through the doorway, there were signs that a meal had hastily been abandoned.

"It's happening now?" Sirius asked. A stupid question, really, as he'd reminded himself every time he'd relived the moment. After all, James had already said so.

"Right now," James had hissed. "Madam Pomfrey is up there with her. Sirius, I feel like I should be doing something. Boiling water or anything, except Poppy said that wouldn't do any good and that I should just stay out of their way."

James was normally the picture of elegant self-possession, but that day, he'd been agitated, barely able to stand in one spot for more than a split second. "What if something goes wrong?" he'd demanded.

"She'll be fine," Sirius assured him. Truth to be told, he was almost as anxious as the father-to-be, but for James he put on a confident air. "Madam Pomfrey knows what she's doing. Remember how many times she fixed us up at school?" Desperately, he searched for something, anything, to take James's mind off what was happening upstairs. "Remember the time you caught that Bludger in the head? She mended your skull without breaking a sweat."

That produced a grin. Sirius rather thought it might. Quidditch was usually good for cheering James up. "Ha. That wasn't nearly as bad as the time Snivellus transfigured your hand into a scorpion..."

"...and I came up in boils when it bit me," Sirius finished for him, grinning. "Remember, she had to use three different potions on me before they all went away."

"That's only because you tipped that first one down the sink when she wasn't looking!" James teased.

"Well, she told me it would give me a permanent case of acne!" Sirius defended himself, laughing. "My handsome face! What would you have done?"

"Not diluted the second one with pumpkin juice, that's for sure," James smirked.

"You didn't have to taste it!" Sirius reminded him. "Ugh. I still have nightmares about that stuff!"

That evening was one of Sirius's favourite memories. It was one of the last times that he and James had been so relaxed together. They'd opened a couple of bottles of Firewhiskey and settled in for a serious evening of drinking. The stories, remembered antics from their school days together, had become wilder and wilder as the alcohol took its effect. By the time Lily's birthing cries, muffled by the firmly shut door, drew James inevitably up the stairs, he was so tipsy that Poppy's admonishment to go outside and de-gnome the garden produced only drunken grumblings.

"You are going to be in so much trouble when Lily's had the baby and she wants you," Sirius had snickered. "When she sees how drunk you are, she's going to hex you so badly you'll wish you had been bitten by my scorpion hand."

"Lily would never do that," James protested. "She loves me."

But Sirius noticed he didn't touch the Firewhiskey after that.

It had seemed forever before Poppy descended down the stairs. Her eyebrow arched at the two men lounging around the room. Hastily, Sirius had pulled his feet off the couch. Even James straightened up.

"Well," Poppy said in a disapproving tone. "You are going to have to clean yourself up a bit, James Potter, if you're going to present yourself to your son."

"I have a son!" James yelled, jumping up and wrapping his arms around a rather startled Madam Pomfrey. "A son! Did you hear that, Sirius?"

Sirius had never smiled so widely in his life. "A son," he repeated. "He'll be a Quidditch player like his father, I bet. I'd better teach him about girls though, Prongs. You're hopeless with them."

Releasing Poppy, James aimed a cuff at Sirius's head, which he ducked easily. "Come on, Dad," Sirius urged. "Let's go see this son of yours."

They found Lily looking tired, but triumphant. The baby was cradled in her arms, wrapped tightly in a shawl. Sirius would never forget his first glimpse of James's son. Even as a newborn, he had a remarkable shock of black hair just like his father's. His eyes were sleepy and half-closed, his skin still a bluish red hue, and his head was oddly squashed, a side-effect of the birth, Poppy informed them, which would go away within days.

James had taken one look at his wife and son and swooped down to embrace them both. There were tears in his eyes, and tipsy though he was, there was warm sincerity in his voice as he murmured how much he loved them. Sirius felt a little choked up himself.

"Let's call him Harry," Lily had whispered, her lips against James's hair. "Harry James."

"Just as long as we name our daughter after you," James had insisted. "Merlin, Lily, you're so beautiful, and he's just perfect." Gently, he pulled one tiny hand out of the shawl and began examining each of the five fingers. "Our son," he murmured.

For a long time, James and Lily just held one another, the baby between them in a protective embrace. They hardly spoke. Lily bent her head and kissed the tiny forehead.

Sirius began to sneak out of the room to give the pair a moment of privacy, but before he'd gotten very far, James looked back at him, grinned, and asked, "Would you like to hold Harry, Padfoot?"

Sirius nodded speechlessly.

James was so gentle, supporting the baby's head as he lifted him into Sirius's arms. The baby was so tiny and so light. Sirius was almost afraid to move, just in case he broke him. James and Lily smiled fondly, watching him with their child.

The new parents exchanged a significant look. "Sirius, we have something we want to ask you," Lily said. She smiled as Sirius tore his gaze away from Harry to look over at her. "Would you be his godfather?"

"Me?" Sirius couldn't have said why he was surprised. After all, he and James had always been closer to each other than they had been to either Remus or Peter. Nevertheless, the question stunned him. "Are you sure?"

"Are we sure?" James laughed. "Of course we're sure. I can't think of anyone who'd care for him like you would. Remember, you've already promised to teach him about women."

"It'd mean a lot to both of us," Lily said.

"Of course I will." Sirius didn't even need to think twice before giving his answer. He stared down at the baby in his arms and whispered, "I'll always be there for you, Harry."

If only he had been able to keep that promise! If only Peter hadn't betrayed Lily and James and framed Sirius for his murder! Sirius had spent too much of Harry's life locked in a prison cell, despairing of ever being able to see his godson. Since his escape, he'd tried to make up for all those lost years, but he hadn't been able to stop Peter's escape, nor Voldemort stealing Harry's blood. He'd had to sit idle whilst Snape had taunted and bullied James's son, and now finally, the Potions master had injured him, maybe even killed him.

Harry lay in the midst of the debris from the duel. His eyes were closed. He was limp, and blood was seeping through his robes. In an instant, Sirius was by kneeling down beside him. Sirus's bruised ribs felt as though they were on fire, but he ignored the pain. It was trivial compared to what had happened to Harry. It could wait.

Close up, he could just make out the shallow rise and fall of Harry's chest. "He's alive!" he cried. "Harry, can you hear me?"

"Of course he's alive," Snape sneered. Both he and Minerva joined Sirius at Harry's side. "Do you think I'm foolish enough to try and kill you, Black?"

Narrowing his eyes, Sirius lifted his gaze to that of the Potions master. "Not with Minerva as a witness, at least," he said, enunciating each word clearly, infusing each with all the hate that boiled inside of him.

"Stop this ridiculous bickering!" Professor McGonagall snapped, glaring at both men and pushing past Snape to get closer to Harry. "Whilst you two are arguing, Harry is bleeding! We need to get him to Poppy right away. I'm ashamed of both of you. Of all the times to indulge in such stupidity! Don't you realise that Dolores is patrolling the corridors? Sirius, you at least should have had more sense. If she catches you, she'll do everything in her power to have you executed!"

"I don't care," Sirius growled. "We have to get Harry to the hospital wing. If I have to die getting him there, I will."

"Harry certainly won't thank you for that," Minerva scolded, disgust dripping from every word.

.

"And despite your... heroics, once again you are completely unnecessary, Black," Snape sneered. "Potter is in no danger, I assure you. I can stabilise him easily."

At any time, it would have boiled Sirius's blood to ask for help from Snape, but after what he'd just done to Harry, it was almost too much to bear. Fortunately, Minerva took the necessity from him.

"Well then, do it!" she snapped. "And hurry! We've still got to get Sirius out of here!"

"I won't leave until I know Harry's going to be okay," Sirius said. "I'm not sure we can trust you, Snape."

"Trust me, or don't," Snape said uncaringly. "I will perform my duties as a teacher at this school."

He bent over Harry, opening the boy's robes so that he could peer at the wounds. "I'll need some water," he said, glaring over at Sirius. "There's some in that cupboard. Go get it." He gestured towards the cupboard in the corner of the room where Sirius's wand had lain.

"I'm not leaving Harry's side," Sirius barked. "Who knows what you'll do to him when my back is turned?"

"Sirius Black!" Minerva snapped. "Need I remind you that I will be here with Harry? I am quite capable of protecting him myself." She narrowed her eyes at Sirius, at that moment every inch Dumbledore's second in command.

Snape smirked at Sirius. Sirius clenched his hands by his side and glared at the Potions master. He stood, refusing to give Snape the satisfaction of seeing him brace his aching ribs, and made his way over to the indicated cupboard.

There were jars, bottles, and bundled herbs lying in neat piles on the shelves. Each was precisely ordered and meticulously labelled. Aloud, he read, "Distilled water."

"That's it," Snape said impatiently. "Bring it over here."

Sirius glanced over at the two Hogwarts teachers. Snape was waving his wand at Harry and muttering an incantation. It was only Minerva's unconcerned presence beside him that stopped Sirius from cursing Snape right then.

Grabbing the bottle of water, Sirius was just about to return to Harry's side when a small bottle of clear liquid caught his eye. 'Veritaserum,' he read. Glancing behind him, he noticed that the attention of both Minerva and Snape was occupied by the prone form of his godson. Furtively, Sirius slipped the bottle into his pocket. One never knew when such a thing might come in handy.

Returning to Harry's side, Sirius thrust the bottle of water at Snape. The Potions master barely favoured him with a sneer as he poured the water on Harry's chest, chanting an incantation under his breath.

Gradually, the bleeding slowed, and Harry's white face took on a slightly more healthy hue. Snape looked up, addressing his words to Minerva. "In an hour, we'll be able to give him a restorative, and then he should be walking well enough to get him to the hospital wing without arousing too many of Professor Umbridge's suspicions."

"So we just have to wait?" Minerva snapped, frowning.

"Unless you want to risk his health further," Snape said smoothly, aiming a smirk towards Sirius. A wave of his wand dried the water from Harry's clothes.

"We'll wait," Sirius growled. "And don't even think about suggesting that I escape before Harry's recovered, Minerva."

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing," Minerva replied, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Well, since we've got an hour to wait, how about we have a drink?" Sirius suggested. He fingered the stopper of the little bottle in his pocket. Perhaps the potion would come in handy.