Well-Intentioned Consequences

Well-Intentioned Consequences

It is not a moment of great decision

Or an hour of great turmoil

That tell The Wise Ones who we are

But the small moments that do not define us

Are the ones that send us to our graves

Or take us to our glory

Peter Pettigrew was an odd shade of purple.

Harry Potter decided to have a food fight. Only it was a one-ended fight, because the contents of a jar of plum baby food were covering his "Uncle" Peter.

One-year-old Harry Potter squealed with glee, and Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, wore an amused smirk.

"See?" Sirius said with an air of triumph, "he's not the only one who thinks this is funny."

"That could be because you and he have the same I.Q." Peter scowled.

"I'm the one smart enough not to be covered in purple gook," Sirius answered coolly.

"You had to tell them to go for a night out," Peter growled. " 'We'll watch Harry,' you said. 'I want some quality time with my godson.' you said. 'Stay out as long as you want' you said. They've been gone for half an hour, and I can't get a bite of food into his mouth! If the Death Eaters take them while they're gone, and raising him is up to you and me, this kid is going to parish from starvation before he holds his first wand."

"So you're an unfit uncle," Sirius said, shrugging. "there's a lot worse things you could be."

"I've got better things to do with my night than try and force-feed Prongs Junior."

"No you don't," Sirius said. "Hey, Pete...wait a second mate. Sit and have a cup of tea."

"I'll need something stronger after that disaster," Peter grumbled.

"Think James has some Ogden's lying around here somewhere?" Sirius asked, rifling through the cabinets with Harry still in the highchair.

"I've been thinking," he said, finding what he was looking for and plunking a bottle of Ogden's Old-Fashioned Fire-Whiskey down with a cup in front of Peter. "You know how we all agreed I would be James and Lily's Secret-Keeper?"

Peter eyed him warily, pouring himself a glass and taking a long draught.

"You are? They're Secret-Keeper, I mean?" Peter said, trying not to sound hurt.

"They didn't tell you?" Sirius asked as he assessed Peter's betrayed expression. "No, I suppose they didn't. Damn."

"Having second thoughts on taking that risk? I don't blame you for being scared. The Potters are two of my closest friends. I love them dearly, and I love their son as much as my own, but you must admit they have their enemies."

"No." Sirius said too quickly for Peter to think it was a lie. "You know I'd put my life on the line for any of you without regretting it for a second." He glanced over at Harry, who had, evidently, made the plums come to him, and was currently licking the contents from the jar with his fingers. Sirius got his wand from his belt, but Peter stopped him.

"Leave it, Sirius," Peter said. "He's eating."

"I was thinking..."

"Is this your way of telling me the world is about to end?"

"Look," Sirius said irritably. "They chose me as Harry's godfather. It doesn't take a calculating spy to..."

"...figure out who they trust the most? No." Peter said crisply. "It certainly doesn't!"

"Pete...that's not what I meant."

"No. You know perfectly well that was exactly what you meant."

"Oh, come off it, Peter! We're brothers here. Nobody wants anyone to be killed. All I want to do here is save The Potters' life. I don't want Harry to grow up an orphan."

"You know I wouldn't wish a place like that rat-hole I grew up in on anybody." Peter said solemnly.

"What do you think about talking it over with James and Lily about being the Secret Keeper instead of me?"

"Why? Because I'm expendable?"

"Peter, would you quit being such a whiney prat for two sodding seconds? Moony can't be the Secret-Keeper for obvious reasons. The only reason I was made their Secret-Keeper was because I am an Auror and knew inside information to protect Harry. I can pass that along to you. Lily and James trust you. Why do you think they left you here with a confirmed bachelor like me who knows nothing about babies?"

"Quit trying to make me feel better, Padfoot. You're failing miserably."

"I'm NOT playing the sympathy card here. Prongs Junior doesn't stand a chance if we don't play as a team. Don't go off half-cocked because you think you're not important or expendable, because we need you on our side for this."

"Sirius, would you stop calling him Prongs Junior? The poor kid is going to get kicked around like a football if that sticks. You're a damn fool if you think the four of us are enough to keep Harry from someone like Voldemort. And if Voldemort doesn't get to him, who's to say something else won't do him in? I can't pretend James brought Harry into a world worth living in, and I can't pretend we're the ones who can make it a world worth living in!" There was an abrupt pop, and Peter was gone.

Which sent the infant into a fit of wailing.

"Shit!" Sirius Black swore when Harry Potter wouldn't stop crying. "Sorry mate," he apologized to the screaming infant in his arms. Until then, Sirius Black did not realize that the human voice could reach that decibel. "Forgot the virgin ears."

The infant continued to wail. "Tell me, James," he said to the absent father, "how do you turn it off?"

He got a brilliant idea.

He rummaged around till he found James' old broom, and suspended it in front of Harry.

Harry's emerald eyes were fixated on it.

"The principles of riding are quite simple. It's like riding a bike."

Harry toddled over to it, not paying any attention to his godfather's lecture.

"Wanna go for a ride?"

Harry clapped his hands in response. Weird how he seems to understand everything, Sirius mused as he went to the front coat closet for the baby pouch and strapped Harry in it.

"We can't go outside. Wouldn't want the Muggles' world turned upside down if they saw a guy with the baby next door on a broomstick. That'd be like finding out George Michael was gay."

He glanced up. "Well...the ceilings are high."

He got on the broom and pushed off. He zoomed through the living room to the kitchen and through the den and then up the stairs not without busting into a few chandeliers.

Harry made gleeful gurgling sounds the whole way, clapping his pudgy hands in delight.

He flew through the house ten times before he commenced to magically repairing the damage he did.

"Your Mum is never going to leave me alone in her house again. I don't think we'd better do that anymore," he informed Harry, who scrunched his face up in protest, and began to grow increasingly redder.

"Oh bloody hell, no. You're not starting THAT racket again." Sirius ordered. He looked around everywhere for inspiration, and an idea finally dawned on him. He whipped out his wand. "Ferre quo Vita!" He said, and animated the butterflies in the carpet so that they floated.

When Harry couldn't catch them, he started crying again.

"Hey now, hey now...let's not start that again," Sirius cajoled him, bouncing the baby around. He'd never held a baby before he met Harry. It should have been an awkward thing for him to do, but it just seemed so natural. He was as at ease with Harry as he had been with James from their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express.

He backed his way to the couch, and took the baby pouch off and unfastened Harry from it. Harry's entire body seemed to wriggle in protest, but Sirius lay back on the couch and rested Harry on his stomach. He raised Harry above his head, giving him raspberries every so often, making them both laugh.

Sirius remembered suddenly that babies needed to be burped after they ate. He laid Harry on his shoulder, and got frustrated when Harry wouldn't burp.

But the frustration subsided into relief when he realized that Harry was sound asleep.

"Do you want to play a little game called captive audience? I guess you can't protest much, huh?"

The baby wriggled slightly in response, but settled back down, so Sirius continued.

"There is a reason why I haven't got a family yet, Harry. I don't know a thing about babies. Actually, I don't know why your parents decided you would be a good idea. Think of all the mischief the Marauders would have made if you weren't taking up so much of our fearless leaders' time. Not that we've done all that much mischief since our Hogwarts days...but still, it's the principal of the thing you know."

Sirius shifted so that he was stretched to his full length on the couch and ever-so-gently moved Harry from his shoulder to his stomach.

"Any ideas on what to do about your Uncle Peter? He seems to think he's not important, and that we can't do anything to fight what's coming. How about an offer? I'll work on your parents towards convincing them to get your Uncle Pete to be their Secret Keeper and making sure you're safe. You work on convincing Uncle Pete that there's something worth fighting for."