Barely Functioning, Deeply Loved by krosi
Summary: When six-year-old Harry Potter finds floo powder while cleaning the fireplace, he is accidentally sent over to Severus's Snape's house, where he discovers that Snape is his biological dad, he has a half-sister, and Aunt Petunia has been abusing him all his life. It's almost too much for little Harry to handle. Can Severus help this boy through the traumas he's suffered?
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape, Parental Snape > Godfather Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Original Character
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Snape is Kind, Snape is Loving, Overly-protective Snape
Genres: Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe
Takes Place: 0 - Pre Hogwarts (before Harry is 11)
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Out of Character
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 31 Completed: No Word count: 131786 Read: 47017 Published: 23 Jan 2021 Updated: 20 Mar 2024
Chasing Rats by krosi

The motorbike roared down the street as it nearly flew off the road toward a dark and silent house, half of the roof blown to bits. Sirius Black forced the bike to a sudden halt, causing it to swerve slightly before it fully stopped. He jumped off the bike and ran toward the house, tears already blurring his vision as he dropped to his knees next to the body of his best friend in the entryway.

               “James!” Sirius cried, cradling his friend’s head. “No, no, James!”

               Sirius mourned for several minutes over James’ body before he dared to glance into the house. He stood, withdrew his wand, and cautiously moved deeper inside, glancing around for any Death Eaters or worse, Voldemort himself. Sirius cleared the downstairs before taking careful steps up the creaky stairs. He found Lily’s lifeless body in one of the bedrooms and he moved inside, tears welling in his eyes again.

               “I’m so sorry, Lily,” Sirius said softly.

               The crib in the bedroom was empty, and Sirius feared the worse. Had Voldemort taken Harry? Was his godson dead and now some kind of trophy among the sick, demented Death Eaters? Where was the Dark Wizard anyway?

               There was one way to find out some of this information.

               A burn inside his chest lit, and his fists clenched at his side as a rage blazed behind his eyes. He was going to kill that rat.

               Sirius ran out of the house just as muggles were starting to approach the building, staring in bewilderment and awe. Sirius climbed on his bike and sped away, weaving past the muggles before pushing the bike to go faster down the road. He muttered a locator spell that would track Peter Pettigrew. Once he was away from Godric’s Hollow and out of muggle sight, he activated the bike’s flight mode and took to the sky, moving faster through the air. His wand jerked in the directions he needed to go, and Sirius kept an eye on the ground in search of his so-called friend, using a binocular charm he had recently learned. He still could not believe that Peter had betrayed them all. That lying, no good, son-of-a—

               There he was!

               Peter Pettigrew was walking swiftly down a muggle city street, trying to blend in with the crowd, no doubt planning his disappearance to avoid capture.

               Uncaring of the many muggles around, Sirius dropped the bike to the ground below, startling many muggles who ran out of the way, avoiding the bike as it landed heavily on the wheels, which thankfully did not pop from the impact. Regardless, Sirius jumped off the bike and aimed his wand at Peter’s back.

               “Peter!” he shouted. “How could you? They were our friends!”

               Several muggles moved aside to create a path between Sirius and Peter. Peter stopped, then slowly turned to face Sirius, his face white and his eyes flickering in every direction.

               “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter said. “You were the secret keeper, Sirius.”

               “That’s rubbish, you prick, and you know it. Where’s Harry? Where’s his body? At least tell me that.”

               “I can’t,” Peter said as he slowly withdrew his wand from his sleeve.

               Sirius took a bold step forward, jerking his wand at Peter in warning.

               “Stop! Don’t even think about trying anything! You killed my best friend . . . and his wife . . . and their little baby! You deserve to die where you stand and I promise you, I won’t make it swift.”

               There was a noise behind Sirius that sounded a lot like apparition, and a quick glance with his eyes told him a few aurors had arrived on the scene. Ignoring them, Sirius focused his wand on Peter, not caring if this action landed him in prison. He had nothing left to live for anyway. Peter deserved death for his betrayal.

               Before Sirius could utter a serious of curses, Peter whipped his wand out and pointed it down, keeping it close to his side.

               “Help!” Peter shouted. “Sirius Black betrayed the Potters and he’s come for me!”

               Then a blast knocked Sirius off his feet, sending him flying through the air several yards back, knocking the breath out of him and causing a ringing in his ears. Sirius groaned as he rolled onto his back, blinking his eyes to peer through the dust, just in time to see a rat scurry away into some bushes. The ringing kept going and Sirius tried to shake the feeling away, but he couldn’t help the maniacal chuckles that scaped his lips. Peter thought he was so clever. He had no clue what was coming for him. Just wait, Peter, Sirius thought, I will find you.

               The ringing faded away, and Sirius managed to push himself up to his feet, and it was then that he saw what damage Peter had caused.

               There was a massive crater in the ground where Peter had directed the blast. And worse, a dozen muggles lay dead between him and where Peter had been standing. Many were still bleeding where they lay, others crushed on impact from the blow, and still, a few with missing limbs. Sirius gasped at the sight before he was knocked to the ground from behind and pinned down.

                “Sirius Black you’re under arrest for several crimes tonight,” Barty Crouch, Sr. growled in Sirius’s ear as he placed magic restraining cuffs on Sirius.

               “I didn’t do anything!” Sirius argued as he was hoisted to his feet.

               “You’ll have plenty of time to tell it to a judge.” Barty Crouch, Sr. said.

              

               Sirius tapped his fingers on the table he was cuffed to in the interrogation room. After what felt like hours of arguing his case against Crouch, the auror had stormed out of the room exasperated, and Sirius had been left alone for several minutes. Precious time he could be using to hunt Peter before he could disappear for good.

               “Hey!” Sirius called out. “Is there a way we could wrap this up? You’ve got the wrong man and the real traitor is out there running loose still.”

               No one responded.

               Sirius huffed, tugging his hands against the cuffs holding him to the table.  

               “I will take Veritaserum if I have to; let’s wrap this up.”

               Another long minute passed, then the door opened, and a slender woman of average height stepped into the room. She wore a maroon robe and a black trenchcoat, the typical uniform of the Auror Detective Unit. Her deep brown eyes matched her dark brown hair which was pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head. Her black knee-high boots clicked as she walked across the room to the seat on the other side of the table. She leaned back in the chair and studied Sirius.

               After a moment, Sirius moved his hands in an impatient gesture.

               “Yes?” he asked.

               “Albus Dumbledore was so sure that you were the Potters’ secret keeper,” the woman said. “Do you mean to tell me that you were not? I mean, it seems like you were the obvious choice . . .”

               “Exactly,” Sirius said, cutting her off. “Too obvious. So James and I agreed that we would switch to Peter. Everyone knew James and I were like brothers, but Peter? He was more of a at school sidekick, you know?”

               “I see. So you’re trying to tell everyone here that Peter was a last minute secret keeper, gave the Potters’ location up to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and then faked his own death, leaving behind nothing but a finger?”

               “It’s not that crazy when you think about it.”

               “Peter Pettigrew was never an exemplary student. He had average grades, kept to a small group of friends, had no remarkable magical feats, and showed no interest in the Dark Arts. You expect us to accept your version of events?”

               Sirius sighed.

               “Look, Auror,” Sirius started to say.

               “Detective Svoboda,” the detective corrected.

               “Right, Detective,” Sirius said. “If it were me, if I had just remained James’ and Lily’s secret keeper, Voldemort would have had to kill me because there was no way in bloody hell I would give my friends up like that. And you can torture me, interrogate me, or drug me with veritaserum, but I am telling you the honest truth here. Peter Pettigrew is an unregistered animagus, just like me. James was one, too. He cast the blast charm and chopped off one of his fingers to set me up and he ran off in his rat form. He betrayed the Potters. And I have to find him and make him pay for what he’s done.”

               “You know I can’t allow you to do that,” Detective Svoboda said with a shake of her head. “What is your animagus?”

               “Why does that matter?”

               “If you and Peter were truly unregistered animagi, then I’d like to know what you were. Prove to me that you are telling the truth.”

               “I could show you,” Sirius said, tugging against the hand cuffs pointedly. “Might be more proof worthy than my word.”

               Detective Svoboda’s brows shot up, but she considered his words for a minute before raising a hand and motioning someone to come inside. Two aurors stepped into the room, wands pointed at Sirius. One of the aurors uncuffed his hands, freeing them from the table at last. Sirius gave his wrists a rub.

               “Do not try anything,” Detective Svoboda said. “Shift, then shift back.”

               Sirius nodded, then dropped down into his big black dog form, Padfoot. He barked twice and wagged his tail, before spotting the motion of his tail, which he growled at before giving it a chase. Detective Svoboda bit back a laugh, which did not go unnoticed by Padfoot, who grinned as he panted. This ought to put him in good books with the department, or at least the Detective.

               “Thank you, Mr. Black, that’ll do,” she said.

               Padfoot shifted back into Sirius, and he was quickly escorted back to his seat, but before the auror could cuff him, he asked, “Are these really necessary?”

               Detective Svoboda held up a hand at the officer, stopping him from putting the cuffs back on. She waved him back and the aurors stepped out of the room.

               “I’m inclined to believe you, Mr. Black. Veritaserum will not be necessary. Minerva McGonagall had a suspicion that you and your friends were animagi, so now that you have confirmed those, we will set an alert to all the Aurors to be on the look out for a suspicious rat.”

               “You think you can tract Peter?”

               “It will be hard. Animagi are difficult to track whether they are registered or not. And with Peter’s being a rat, this is no small task we have before us.”

               “But I’m free to go?” Sirius asked, tapping his fingers on the table.

               “Yes. However, we ask that you keep a low profile while we search for Peter. Not everyone is convinced that your story is the truth.” Detective Svoboda’s eyes hardened. “We also ask that you do not interfere with our investigation. You leave tracking Peter Pettigrew to the detectives.”

               “Of course. Before you go, did you find Harry?”

               “The baby? He’s alive. Albus Dumbledore currently has him.”

               Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. Harry was alive and safe. He would probably end up going to Severus Snape and his girlfriend, where Harry would at least have a chance at a normal life with parents and a sibling. Not that Sirius was fond of Dahlia in any way, but still, Harry would be all right. And he would visit. Soon.

               “Very well.” Detective Svoboda rose from her seat. She reached into her robe and pulled out a tiny roll of parchment. She returned the parchment to its normal size. “You may leave once you finish registering your animagus form.”

               “Are you serious?”

               “Yes. Being an unregistered animagus is illegal.”

               “Fine. This better not take long.”

               “It’s only one page.” Detective Svoboda pulled the red string free, and the parchment unraveled, rolling over the table and down to the floor, where it continued to roll until it was slightly past Sirius’s chair. “But I’d get started sooner rather than later.”

               Sirius grumbled under his breath as he took the parchment and a quill Svoboda summoned for him.

 

A Year Later:

 

               Sirius studied the wall of photos and leads he had collected through the year. Sightings, tips, suspicious acting rats—all dead ends. The latest tip was of a potential sighting in Diagon Alley, but Sirius had sniffed out the entirety of the alley three times. No sign of Peter.

               Sirius growled under his breath as he walked out of the back room of his house. He had inherited the home after his parents had passed, and had many plans of relocating and finding a new home that wasn’t marked by blood and dark arts. For now, however, he was on a mission, and the house would have to do.

               Sirius made his way to the kitchen, where he poured himself a cup of tea from the whistling pot. He sat down at the head of the table and sipped the tea, fiddling with a magical communication device he had stolen from the Auror Department when they had detained him as a suspect for the murder of Peter and several other muggles. It kept him in the loop of several cases, but his focus was on anything related to Peter. He also used his own knowledge of Peter from all the years they had shared a dorm in Hogwarts, and all the time they had hung out together. Some tips were ludicrous, stating ridiculous things he knew Peter would never do, such as infiltrate a muggle organization. That would draw too much attention toward him. No, Peter’s first move would be to find somewhere he could hide away for a while.

               The magical communication device remained silent, so Sirius turned his attention to the Daily Prophet, checking out the five day forecast predicted by the latest meteorologist seer. A side story with a picture caught his attention.

               “Ministry Employee Promoted to Office of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts.”

               The article talked about the large family—seven kids!—and how Mr. Weasley’s interest and growing knowledge in muggle technology proved to be of use in a recent incident with a jinxed television set hypnotizing muggles in a department store to act like ducks. Sirius snorted at the image that brought to his brain before looking at the family picture. Arthur Weasley was holding a small boy, perhaps three years of age. Arthur stood next to his wife, who was holding a baby girl, and the rest of their children stood in front of the parents, smiling and waving at the camera.

               Sirius’s eyes widened and he nearly choked on his tea. On the shoulder of one of the small boys was Peter Pettigrew! He’d recognize that rat anywhere. And he was pretending to be a pet? How sick. Just wait until he got to that house.

               Sirius jumped to his feet and ran to the library on the second floor. In a family focused on purity, every pureblood family and their information existed somewhere in the house. While the Weasleys were considered blood traitors by most purebloods now, there was a time they had not been such, and he was sure their details were listed somewhere.

               It took nearly an hour of digging before he came across the name “Weasley” in an old tome that updated itself regularly. He flipped through the pages and found the Weasley family tree, and at the very bottom, three locations of where the Weasleys’ had taken up residence. The last house was still listed as active, and Sirius wrote down the address on a scrap of parchment before running out of the library. He used his wand to lock up the house as he moved to the attached garage where his motorbike waited.

               Jumping on the bike, Sirius started it up before driving out of the garage. Once outside, he activated its flight and took to the sky.

               He landed a mile or so away from the Weasleys so as not to alarm Peter of his presence. Perhaps there was a better way to go about this, but if he attempted to explain the situation to the parents first, he was sure Peter would take that time to disappear. No, he had to get to Peter first and foremost before the rat could even think of running away.

               Hiding the bike and shifting into Padfoot, the dog ran the rest of the way to the Burrow, slowing down as the building came into view. He spotted two older boys de-gnoming the garden while two smaller boys ran around the gardens in some sort of tag game. Padfoot looked for a rat but did not see one among the boys. He scanned the yard, moving through bushes.

               Another young boy, older than the two little ones running around but younger than the two de-gnoming, was sitting alone at an outdoor table, his head in his arms and one hand stroking the fur of a scruffy, brown rat.

               Wormtail.

               Padfoot snarled, his fur bristling.

               Finally, he had found Peter and he would have his vengeance.

               Sprinting quickly, Padfoot ran into the garden, startling all the boys who stopped what they were doing. He could hear the startled squeal of Wormtail, who tried to jump off the table, only to be caught by the small child.

               “Percy, look out!” One of the boys cried.

               The child jumped up from his seat, prepared to run, but he tripped and fell backward as Padfoot closed in on him. The child screamed, as did Wormtail, and Padfoot pinned the child down and lashed out for Wormtail, trying not to bite the child, but the boy moved his hands around to keep the rat out of his jaws.

               Frustrated, Padfoot growl-barked at the child, hoping to frighten him enough into releasing Wormtail. Instead, the kid screamed again.

               “Get off him!” one of the older boys shouted, throwing a rock at Padfoot.

               “Get out of here!” the other older kid joined in, throwing rocks as well. “Scram!”

               The two smaller boys also began picking up rocks and throwing them.

               Padfoot winced as the stones struck him, and he backed off the boy a little, keeping an eye on Wormtail.

               “Ow!” the boy cried as Wormtail finally escaped and ran off. “Scabbers bit me!”

               Padfoot leaped over the child and chased Wormtail across the garden. The rat climbed up one of the older boys before Padfoot could grab him, and Padfoot barked in frustration around the child, who danced around as he tried to grab the rat crawling up his robe.

               Wormtail crawled through the boy’s sleeve and leaped off his hand with a wand in his mouth.

               “Hey, Scabbers has my wand!” the boy cried.  

               Padfoot and all five boys chased after Wormtail, the rat picking up speed and leaving the boys behind, but Padfoot kept at the rat’s heels. He lunged forward, ready to grab Wormtail at last and thrash him till he grew limp, but Wormtail dived into a burrow under a tree.

               Padfoot snarled and barked as he dug at the hole in the ground. He knew that burrows could go on for meters, and Wormtail could be anywhere underground right now. He also knew that Wormtail had no intention of coming back, seeing as he took a wand with him. He had lost the rat once more.

               Padfoot grumbled angrily as he turned away, looking back at the house to see the parents comforting the children as they explained what happened and pointed at him in the distance. Padfoot huffed and took off for the trees, running up a hill. He paused at the top and looked back at the house, now able to see the front.

               Detective Svoboda and an auror were knocking at the door, drawing the parents’ attention back into the house. They’re too late, Padfoot thought as he snarled down at the aurors, he’s long gone.

               With that, Padfoot took off through the trees, running back for his bike.

 

Two years Later:

 

               Sirius lived on the road for a couple years as he pursued every lead and tip he heard on the magical communication device as well as trying to figure out what Peter’s next move might be. He traveled on his bike through towns and cities, muggle and magical alike, resting in motels or sleeping under the stars as Padfoot on a good night. He found himself in Ukraine hot on Peter’s trail, having seen a glimpse of Peter shopping in a muggle city. And then he lost him. The more dead ends he came to, the angrier he felt himself become. Peter was out there running free and unpunished for the crimes he committed. His friends were dead because of this man. Harry lost his family because of this man. He would avenge his friends’ death and bring justice for Harry is it was the last thing he ever did.

               His latest tip led him to an underground tunnel system used by magical folk for dark arts and smuggling between countries. He parked his bike in the trees so it would remain out of sight while he investigated the situation.

               He followed a few suspicious men down into an underground subway, then watched them walk into a wall, disappearing behind it.

               Sirius waited a few minutes, then proceeded to walk into the same wall, glad that the wards did not keep him out. Clearly, the location was more the secret or the wards would have had more privacy protections on them. Sirius pulled up the hood of his dark gray cloak and walked down an alley filled with small shops while magical trains zoomed by, some stopping to pick up passengers now and then.

               Sirius looked around for Peter, ignoring the illegal dark artefacts or the caged magical beasts squalling as bidders shouted a price. A few people tried to lure him into their shop, offering enchanted lockets or dark, bubbly potions. Sirius didn’t say a word to anyone as he pushed his way forward. He had overheard a couple men explain how they had traded potions for a wand from a Pettigrew down in these tunnels. Peter was here somewhere.

               Sirius spotted a familiar red cloak several feet ahead.

               Peter Pettigrew was looking at one of the shops selling potions and herbs. Sirius frowned as he hastened his pace through the crowd, his wand tucked in his sleeve and ready.

               Peter was chatting with the shop keeper, a twitchy smile on his face as he looked over a bottle of a green glowing substance before his eyes glanced in Sirius’s direction. Peter’s smile fell as he quickly set the bottle down and turned, walking deeper into the tunnel system.

               Sirius kept following, and when Peter moved faster, so did he. They were leaving the more crowded sections and heading for darker tunnels that led to secret passages into different countries. Peter was nearly running now, straight for the tunnel leading to Russia, and Sirius ran after him.

               “Peter!” Sirius shouted, his wand pointing at the man’s back. “Face me, you coward! Or I’ll unleash my worst.”

               Realizing Sirius had his wand trained on him, Peter slowed to a halt and turned. Sirius could see his hand twitching to reach for something, most likely a wand of his own.

               “Don’t even think about it!” Sirius threatened. “You will pay for what you did!”

               “No one move!” another voice shouted.

               Detective Svoboda and five aurors all ran up to the two, creating a half circle around the men, wands pointing at both men.  

               “Both of you,” Detective Svoboda demanded, “drop your wands. You’re under arrest.”

               Sirius didn’t lower his wand.

               “Mr. Black. Lower your wand or I will stun you.”

               Sirius fought an exasperated growl, but he slowly lowered his wand. Maybe Peter would try a foolish move and get himself killed by the aurors.

               Suddenly, Peter threw an object down a tunnel, and it exploded, knocking everyone off their feet. Peter shifted into his rat form and ran down the collapsing tunnel, evading the crumbling walls and falling ceiling. Sirius jumped to his feet and ran for the tunnel, jumping back as a large chunk of rock nearly crushed him.

               “Sirius!” Detective Svoboda shouted.

               Sirius glanced back to see the detective shaking her head at him. Sirius gave her an apologetic look before he shifted into Padfoot, catching his wand in his jaws, and then he ran into the collapsing tunnel.

               He zigzagged through to avoid falling structures and rocks, dust kicking up everywhere and nearly blinding him as he followed the dark pathway. He yelped as stones collided into one of his paws, and he stumbled before catching himself and making one final leap out of the tunnel, tumbling into a snow-covered forest. He rolled over and looked back while panting heavily.

               The tunnel was demolished.

               Padfoot sighed and adjusted the wand in his jaws as he turned toward the white surroundings. Small rat footprints in the snow pointed him deeper into the trees, and he followed them, leaving his own pawprints behind him.

 

Three Months Prior to Story Events:

 

               Peter strolled through the town, glancing over his shoulder every now and then to make sure he wasn’t being followed. As he reached for the door to his temporary apartment, he heard a snarl and turned in time for Padfoot to leap on his chest, knocking the man to the ground. He raised his hands over his head to protect them from Padfoot’s teeth as the dog barked aggressively at him.

               Padfoot spotted the wand in Peter’s hand and he leaned forward and snatched it.

               Jumping off Peter, Padfoot crushed the wand in his jaws watching with satisfaction as the pieces fell to the sidewalk, small sparks flying as energy released from the wand. Padfoot shifted back into Sirius before he held up his hand, summoning his wand from where he had dropped it. He aimed it at Peter.

               “Please, Sirius,” Peter pleaded, rising up to his knees and folding his hands together. “Have mercy. I had no choice—he was going to kill me!”

               “I would have died for them!” Sirius shouted at Peter. “You should have been willing to do the same. But you betrayed them. After all James and I ever did for you, helped you through classes you were struggling with, bailed you out of detentions, stuck up for you when a prank went awry, we were all good friends! When did you change? How could you sell James and Lily to Voldemort!”

               “I didn’t mean to,” Peter cried. “You have no idea the weapons he possesses. You can’t mean to tell me that you wouldn’t have cracked even a little bit?”

               “Never!” Sirius exclaimed as he slashed his wand down.

               A cutting hex caught Peter’s cheek, leaving behind a large scratch that trickled blood in streaks like tears down his face.

               “You should have realized that if Voldemort hadn’t killed you, I would have.” Sirius stepped closer, touching his wand to Peter’s chin, tilting the man’s head up. Peter closed his eyes.

               “Sirius Black!” Detective Svoboda shouted as she ran up to Sirius, pausing a few feet away with her wand on him. “Lower your wand this instant!”

               Sirius didn’t budge, even as several other aurors appeared, some running up to stand next to Detective Svoboda, and some apparating into sight. They surrounded Sirius and Peter once more in a half circle.

               “Sirius,” Detective Svoboda started, “please. Lower your wand.”

               “He deserves to die,” Sirius growled through his teeth.

               “Maybe. But you don’t. I can’t let you kill him.”

               “Then you’ll have to kill me. I have nothing left to live for anyway.”

               “James and Lily wouldn’t want this for you. James Potter wouldn’t want you to throw your life away trying to avenge him. He’d want you to be there for his son, Harry. Think about Harry.”

               “Harry doesn’t need me,” Sirius forced out, even as he felt a clench in his chest. He had practically walked out of Harry’s life in pursuit of vengeance. Harry wouldn’t want anything to do with him now. He was sure of it.

               “Not true. Haven’t you heard the news?”

               Sirius had abandoned his bike and the magical communication device the aurors used back in Ukraine before the tunnel collapse, and as he had been on the move, he had not had a chance to look at the Daily Prophet recently, or even a muggle paper. Detective Svoboda continued.

“After James and Lily died, Harry was placed in the care of his muggle relatives. They abused him, Sirius. They hurt him in many ways and he needs all the support he can get. He’s with his father now, but he needs you, too. He needs you to help him heal.”

Tears welled in Sirius’s eyes at the news, and suddenly a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. The need to kill evaporated from him as he dropped to his knees himself. The aurors rushed in and cuffed Peter Pettigrew.

“I failed you again, James,” Sirius cried softly, even as an auror cuffed him. “I’m so sorry.”

“You haven’t failed him,” Detective Svoboda said. “There is still plenty of time to make things right. Starting with letting go of all your rage.”

Sirius said nothing and kept his head down as he was hoisted off the ground and marched away.

Later that evening, he found himself in the same interrogation room he had been in all those years ago, once again, cuffed to the table. He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently as he waited for someone to come tell him what was going on or why he was still there. Harry needed him. He should be on his way to save Harry, not stuck in the Auror department building.

Detective Svoboda walked into the room and she offered a small smile as she flicked her wand at the cuffs, freeing Sirius.

“We’re not interested in pressing charges,” she said. “We have captured Peter Pettigrew, which should stop your vigilante behaviors. If you promise to keep out of trouble, we’ll put this whole thing behind us.”

“How did you find us?” Sirius asked.

“Put a tracker spell on you,” Detective Svoboda said. “When you ran into the collapsing tunnel. Speaking of tracking, your tracking skills are pretty impressive.”

“Guess it comes naturally,” Sirius said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Have you ever considered a field in detective work?”

“You think I have what it takes to be a detective?”

“No,” Detective Svoboda answered with a laugh, deflating Sirius’s peaked interest. “You’re impulsive, impatient, reckless; you disregarded ever order we gave you, and that anger needs some management.”

               Sirius rolled his eyes.

               “But,” Detective Svoboda added, “you have a good heart, and you’re loyal to those you truly cared about. With the right training, I think you could be a great detective.”

               “Thank you,” Sirius said. “I never really thought about it before.”

               “Consider it.” Detective Svoboda reached into her robe and pulled out a handheld mirror. She offered it to Sirius. “And if you’re interested, give me a call. Just ask to see Detective Radka Svoboda, and it’ll ring up the other mirror.”

               “Ah, is this how women are handing out their numbers these days?”

               “Very funny, Mr. Black. Your motorbike is in the storage compartment downstairs.”

               “You found it? She better have been well taken care of well.”

               “Your wand, Mr. Black.” Detective Svoboda held the wand out to him. “And follow me to the storage compartment.

               Sirius followed the detective, planning his journey to the Snape family next, prepared to do right by Harry from now on. That was his purpose in life now—giving Harry the life he deserved, being the godfather Harry desperately needed right now.

 

Present Timeline:

 

               “Vroom, vroom,” Harry said as he sat on Sirius’s motorbike outside the Snape house. “Can I go for a ride on it?”

               “Ehh, not today,” Sirius said. “Your father said you’re still trying to get that asthma controlled.”

               “It’s controlled,” Harry argued.

               “Nice try, little buddy,” Sirius said. He lifted Harry off his bike and set him down. “Maybe another time. I don’t want a repeat of the last visit.”

               “Okay.” Harry accepted Sirius’s hand and walked back toward the house with him. “When I’m older, I’m going to have a bike just like you.”

               “Is that so?”

               “Joshua and me had a movie night at Terrell’s, and we watched this show called Street Hawk,” Harry explained. “And this superhero rides a motorcycle and its super cool! I want to be like that. Are you a superhero with your motorcycle? Do you save people?”

               Sirius chuckled, then thought about the offer Detective Svoboda had given him a couple months ago.

               “You know what, Harry. I do save people. Because I am a super detective.” Sirius tickled Harry.

               “Really? That’s super brilliant. Wait till I tell Joshua!”

               Sirius smiled as he walked Harry back inside the house. Severus was reading with Iris in the armchair and Harry ran over to his father.

               “Daddy, did you know Uncle Sirius is a super detective? Like in Street Hawk!”

               “No, I was not made aware,” Severus said with a smile at his son. He patted Iris’s back. “We can finish this in a few minutes. How about a snack now, hmm?”

               “Okay,” Iris said. “I’ll go pick one out.”

               Iris and Harry ran to the kitchen while Severus stood up and walked over to Sirius.

               “A super detective? You’re not lying to Harry, are you?”

               “Of course not. They offered me the job. I just . . . haven’t accepted it yet.”

               “Well,” Severus smirked. “It sounds like you’ve accepted.”

               Harry came running back over with an apple in hand, which he held up to Severus.

               “Can you cut this for me? And can I have the caramel sauce?”

               “Yes, have you said goodbye to Uncle Sirius? I think he’d like to head out.”

               Sirius kneeled and opened his arms, which Harry quickly fell into.

               “Bye, Uncle Sirius.”

               “Bye, kiddo. I’ll be in touch. You be good in the meantime.”

               “I’m always good.”

               Sirius gave Harry’s forehead a kiss before standing up. He gave a curt nod to Severus before stepping out of the house. Sirius hesitated for a brief moment, then reached into his robe and pulled out the handheld mirror. He stared into it as he walked down the steps and toward his bike, asking to speak with Detective Svoboda.

               The inside of the mirror developed a hazy look as the outer edge glowed for a moment before Detective Svoboda’s head appeared in the mirror.

               “It’s about time,” she said.

               “Yeah, err, is that detective offer still on the table? I’ve decided I’d like to give it a try.”

               “The offer still stands. What made you finally say yes?”

               Sirius looked back at the Snape house, smiling softly for a moment before saying, “Harry.”

               “Of course. In that case, you’re expected in my office tomorrow morning at eight am sharp. Do not be late, rookie.”

               Sirius agreed, and the call ended. He placed the mirror in his robe once more before climbing on his bike, sparing one last glance at the house before zooming away to a brighter future.

 

To be continued...


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