The Original Trio of Tricksters Part Three (The Epilogue): When I’m Not With You, Think of Me Always
Story Summary: Let it never be said that Harry Potter’s parents were ones to half-ass shenanigans. This is the story of the rise and fall of the original trio of tricksters.
This is the epilogue! To start at the beginning of the story click here.
Disclaimer: I’m a smart cookie, but JKR and Queen came up with some of these things before I could.
A/N: I’d apologize for crushing your hearts but y’all signed up for a canon compliant Lily/James/Sirius fic, what did you think you were in for? Thanks to Transreal_Clouden and cyborg_goddess for betaing and also for making sure that I did things other than write fanfiction during NaNo like eat and sleep.
October 31st 1981
Sirius had gone out for the evening, retrieving a few bits and bobs they had left at their old flat before moving in to Godric’s Hollow. James and Lily were staying with Harry. Harry Potter . Their son. Sure, he had James’s name, but they had gone through a blood adoption process after he was born, and he was now equally the child of all three of them. That was his happiest memory. All of his happiest memories were of James, Lily, and Harry. It was just as Sirius was fishing out a loose sock that had gotten wedged under their old dresser that he received what was a panicked patronus message from Lily.
“Sirius! He’s here, oh gods, Sirius, Voldemort is here! James is already dead. I’m going to do the ritual, I’m sorry. I love you.”
Sirius’s heart dropped in his chest. How long had it taken her patronus to get from Wales to London? How little time did he have? With a crack he apparated to the front gate — there were anti-apparation wards in place that stopped him from entering the house like he had intended — and he saw an explosion on the upper floor, just where Harry’s nursery was. He tore through the house, sparing one agonized glance toward James’s body, and up the stairs to Harry’s room, where to his relief he found a wailing Harry, and to his despair he saw Lily’s body, glassy-eyed and still, her hair spread out around her like a halo. They were only twenty-one. They deserved more time . As he cradled his son, Sirius wept, and, shifting Harry gently into one arm, he carefully levitated Lily’s body out of the room, realizing that the house was structurally no longer sound. Their home , was destroyed. I will destroy your everything . Voldemort had said, even before the prophecy. He carefully, lovingly, laid Lily and James’s bodies out on the lawn, and was surprised to find that Hagrid, of all people, had arrived.
“Hagrid, what are you doing here?” Sirius asked, bewildered. So much of this was strange, and wrong. Lily and James were dead, the loves of his life. Harry, thankfully, had quieted, and was sleeping peacefully on his shoulder.
“Dumbledore felt the wards he helped place here fall, sent me to investigate. What happened?”
“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, attacked, I think. I was out of the house, or I could’ve — I could’ve done something, but I was gone and they died , and it’s my fault and Lily went through with —” Sirius stopped. “Harry’s OK though, he has some kind of scar, I think from when You-Know-Who attacked, before Lily’s protection stopped him. I saw no trace of Voldemort —” Sirius ignored Hagrid’s shiver, too angry, and what use was avoiding the taboo now? Lily had said it, it had been one of her last words to him, before she said I love you .
“Is Harry alright? How did he survive?” Hagrid asked.
“Something — something Lily did I think.” Sirius ran his free hand through his hair. “Look, Hagrid, why don’t you take my bike back to Hogwarts, get Harry checked out by Madam Pomfrey? I trust her, and I trust you. I need to track down Peter, find out what happened, how, how did Vold- sorry, You-Know-Who find us?” Sirius started to mutter after gently tucking Harry into Hagrid’s arms, kissing him on the forehead, unaware that would be the last time he would do so for a long while.
TOToT TOToT TOToT
The unfortunate thing about Azkaban, and about dementors, is how they feed upon your memories. They don’t just suck the happiness out of you, they take the very memories of happiness, so that you can’t even remember what made you happy. Sirius stayed sane, or a version of it anyway, because he remembered he was innocent, he remembered that he didn’t betray the Potters, that it was Wormtail who did so. But he didn’t retain the happiest of the memories. He didn’t remember the affection that the elder Potters had for him, or how they treated him like a son, only the pain of his birth family, the Blacks. He didn’t remember the strength of the bonds he had with other students at school, only his hatred of the Slytherins and the misery they caused. And worst of all, he didn’t remember the love he shared with Lily and James, he didn’t remember that their son Harry, was also his own, all he remembered was pain upon pain, and betrayal after betrayal, and that righteous anger, was what led him out of Azkaban and in search of a rat he saw sitting on a boy’s shoulder in Egypt.
A/N: I do apologize for being so incredibly cruel to this Sirius. I’m halfway serious about starting that “Sirius Black deserved better holy shit” club because honestly. If you want to read Sirius’s not really a happy ending but it least it isn’t this goddamn sad, check out the main fic in this series A Trio of Tricksters: Eclipse the Past, Usurp the Future. The whole dementors eating happy memories and stopping you from being able to remember happy things is from this chapter’s FIC RECOMMENDATION Messing With Time on AO3.