The Road Not Taken

Prologue: One Choice
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There was a strange silence, though many others would have sworn the sounds of screams, breaking wood and distant sirens filled the air. A cold breeze swept up the road, encircling the trees and moving swiftly between houses, cars and street lamps. It rushed through the garden that had once been filled with lilies of every color and size, into the smoldering ashes of what had recently been a two story cottage with pale yellow trim and a wrap around veranda. In response the flames grew higher, melting and destroying every piece of wood, plastic and metal within its reach. Every memory, every toy, everything....

A man stood next to the destruction. Observed from afar, there was nothing characteristically different about this man than any other. Tall, broad shouldered, short hair, a trim cut goatee and piercing, brilliant blue eyes. The kind that most people saw first, when faced with this man. Next to him, dropped haphazardly on the ground, lay a giant black motorbike, forgotten. The silence stretched.

And then, as if stepping out of a trace, the man rushed forward, heedless of the burning wreckage that he plowed through. He upturned smashed pieces of wall, pictures and furniture until he came to a sudden halt. There, laying face down, with his arm twisted in a painful looking position, lay a man. His messy black hair was filled with dust and dirt, his clothes torn. In his hand he still clutched a long wooden stick. Sirius Black stepped forward, his mind screaming denial. Under his feet was the soft crunch of breaking glass, but in the silence that had engulfed Sirius' mind, it sounded as loud as a cannon. He jumped back, bending down to kneel at the man's side and picked up the round rimmed glasses. "Reparo." The whispered instructions caused a faint light to emit from the wand Sirius held, and the glass jumped back together with the illusion that nothing was amiss.

Sirius again drew his attention to the man. With a shaking hand, he touched the man on the shoulder. "Prongs?" His voice was a soft murmur, deep with emotion that threatened to make it crack. "James?" he repeated, louder this time. With an angry surge of strength, he turned the man over. "Damn it, James, you can't be..." he hissed. But there it was, before him. Open eyed and lifeless: James Potter. A sob rose up in Sirius' throat and he coughed violently, vomit rising up to burn his throat and spill into his mouth. He swallowed it, and a tear slipped down his face.

Leaving the body, he stood up, though his stability seemed to have left him. He stumbled through the wreckage, burning his hand on a piece of hot metal and ignoring it. Towards the back, where the back door had once stood, lay another body. This one that of a woman. Sirius rushed over, falling over the remains of a table and stumbling back to his feet. "Lily?" he called, falling to his knees next to the woman. Like her husband, she also laid on her stomach, deep red hair fanning out around her. Sirius grabbed her shoulders, turning her over.

Large, horrified green eyes stared back at him and Sirius nearly did throw up. Knowing it was fruitless, he shook her slightly. "Lily? Lily, please... James is... and... Oh God," His body shook as another sob rose in his chest. "No. No. NO! Please..."

Gently he raised Lily's body and carried her, sobbing and half stumbling, to the side of James where he lay her down. Mr. and Mrs. James Potter. His best friend and his wife. Dead. Sirius started to weep, but a strange hatred had grown in his chest at the sight of James and Lily's bodies. Peter. Peter had done this. Betrayed... he was the spy... how could he, Sirius, have been so stupid? Of course Peter was the traitor. He had always been so sneaky, staying close to wizards bigger than himself in order to stay safe. And of course he would go to Voldemort, thinking he was stronger than James and Sirius now.

Still clutching the black rimmed, round glasses in his hand, Sirius started to walk away. They had a child, a year old. But Sirius couldn't search for him. He knew that if he saw Harry's body, crumbled and... and so innocent, dead, he would loose it. Completely. And he had to find Peter.

Had to make him pay for betraying them.

With James' glasses clutched in one hand and his wand in another, Sirius started out of the wreckage and towards his motorbike. He would find Peter, and kill him with his bare hands. Sirius never thought himself capable of killing, until tonight. When he saw the eyes of James and Lily, horrified and dead, then he knew without the shadow of a doubt that he had it in him to kill and there was only one person who would be on the receiving end of that rage.

And then, out of the ringing silence that had engulfed Sirius' world, something penetrated. Through the crumbling wood and burning fire around him, through the hatred in his heart, came the small cry of a baby. And it grew louder until Sirius stopped, turning and squinting back at the rubble. Again and again, wave after wave of terrified crying and Sirius' heart nearly jumped into his throat. Shoving things out of his way, Sirius made his way back into the destroyed house, past the lifeless bodies and to the remains of a small room just off from the back door. There he searched, picking up fallen wood and throwing it aside carelessly until he found the source of the noise.

There, blood dripping down his face, lay James and Lily's only child, his green eyes blood shot from crying. "Harry," Sirius called, falling to his knees by the infant. "Harry, you're alive," he repeated, over and over, as if convincing himself it was true. At the sound of the voice, the infant stopped his crying and reached his arms out towards Sirius. Blood stained hands that were trembling, begging for comfort. In an instant the wizard scooped Harry up, hugging him close to his chest and crying all the more. "Thank God, you're alive... I don't know how... I don't CARE how..." he muttered, hugging the child close.

"Sirius? Sirius Black?"

Sirius' head jerked up at the voice and he held Harry closer, as if someone were trying to pry him away. He stood, turning towards the road where a giant of a man stood. This giant was clearly having no problems getting through the rubble, as it crushed under his dolphin sized feet as he walked over to where Sirius stood. "Hagrid?" Sirius asked when the giant was close enough. Not many times had Sirius Black been known to be speechless in his life, but with his best friend dead, standing in the midst of his destroyed house, this was one of them. "What...?"

Hagrid wiped his large hand over his face to clear away the tears. "James an' Lily..." Hagrid waved his huge hand to where they lay. "I can't believe it," he sobbed. Then, as if just realizing it, he leaned forward. "Is... is tha' Harry? He's alive?"

"Yes," Sirius replied, hugging the child closer. But Harry, having heard the other voice, peeked his head up to see who it was.

"Dumbledore said it. Said he'd lived, dunno how he knew. But he did." Hagrid gave a short pause, looking as if he were building up his courage. "Said for me to take him, Sirius," Hagrid explained, as if telling a small child. "Got to take him to his aunt an' uncle's."

Sirius looked bewildered for half a second, hoping he had heard wrong. From the way Hagrid was holding out his hands, Sirius supposed he wasn't. "No."

The giant looked dumbfounded. He scratched his beard uneasily and took a step forward, Sirius took one back. "Now, Sirius, I've got me orders an' Dumbledore..."

"I don't care," Sirius repeated firmly. "Check James and Lily's official documents, in their Gringott's vault. I'm Harry's Godfather, I'm his guardian now."

Hagrid stood, completely unsure as to what to do now. But Sirius didn't seem to be sparing him the moment to decide. He bent down, picking up the blue blanket Harry had been sitting on, and wrapped the child in it. Then he stepped out of the rubble and around the house to where his motorbike sat. At the last second, he seemed to remember something and he turned to the giant, who was still standing in the middle of the once beautiful house. "Tell Dumbledore I wasn't the secret keeper. Tell him that, will you?" And without waiting for a response, Sirius tucked Harry into his arms and started the bike.

As the motorbike rose into the air and blasted out of sight, Hagrid opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and said, "Damn it."

--End Prologue.