Harry Potter A New Sirius Black

But it seemed as though the man knew exactly what Harry was trying to do, because he gently put his hand on his chin, lifting it up so he could look into the bloodshot emerald eyes. "Harry," he said softly, "I know what you're thinking, and by Merlin, please don't. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Look at me," he urged as Harry attempted to look down to the ground again.

"Harry, I am here for you. I know I haven't been in the past, but everything's going to change now. From here on out, I am here for you. I know things seem really, really bad right now, and words can't even describe what you've been through. But I promise you now ... I'm never leaving you alone again. We'll get through this together." He tenderly put his arms around his godson again, and Harry, somehow going against everything he'd been taught about affection, accepted it willingly. As he sank into the coccoon of security and protectiveness Sirius provided, a wave of exhaustion hit him, and he knew, without knowing how, that the sleep he would fall into now would be one without nightmares.

But before he succumbed to the sweet release of unconsciousness, free from the guilt and grief that overwhelmed him, he had the energy to mumble softly, "Why did you say no to Professor Dumbledore when he asked you to run those errands for him?"

And Sirius's answer came just as quietly as he cradled the child in his arms. "The answer to that is simple, kiddo. I told you before, I'm never leaving you alone again."

And with that, Harry let his eyes fall closed, and he let the familiar, rhythmic sound of Sirius's breathing lull him all the way to sleep.

...

Sirius's heart ached as he continued to hold Harry close to him. The boy's breathing was now deep and even, and Sirius knew he had fallen asleep. He lifted up one hand and soothingly ran it through Harry's hair, hoping that the gesture would keep the terrifying nightmares away from his mind. He'd known instinctively that the Dreamless Sleep potion, which was supposed to have kept Harry asleep nightmare-free, had not had the desired effect. It was only three o'clock in the morning, and it was plain to see that Harry had suffered all night.

He had realized, after looking into Harry's eyes the moment after he awoke, that instead of giving him a night without dreams, it had trapped him in his nightmares for a long time without him being able to wake up. It was obvious that even though the dose had been strong enough, Harry's mind had been too riddled with nightmares for the potion to truly do its job, and it had ended up having entirely the opposite effect on him.

And Sirius knew all about that. Since Dumbledore had found out the truth of his innocence, he had discreetly sent Sirius some Dreamless Sleep potion, and it had the same result for him as it had for Harry. He had only used the potion once, and after cycling through seeing the lifeless bodies of Lily and James over and over again, followed by hearing the horrific screaming and violent, wretched cackling of prisoners from his memories of Azkaban, he'd never taken the potion again. If he was going to have nightmares, he surmised, he'd rather wake himself up naturally than be trapped in them for hours without end.

He felt sick to his stomach to know that his young, innocent godson had to suffer that fate as well. He hadn't even asked Harry what the potion had done to him; the answer was written all over his face, and he knew that all the boy needed at that moment was to be comforted. Talking about the nightmares would come later. After Harry had fallen asleep again, he knew his decision had been the right one. Harry had already been thinking himself weak for sobbing; he couldn't stand the thought of his reaction if he asked about his nightmares.

A new bout of fury flooded his veins as he remembered the shame in Harry's eyes after he'd sobbed his heart out. Growing up in the Black family, he was all too familiar with the mindset of how tears were a weakness. After all, Walburga had screeched it in his ear often enough, and Orion had drawled it in a bored, uncaring voice as he locked him in his room, telling him to think about how he was besmirching the Black family name.

It was only when he had been exposed to the people who would become his best friends that he realized those words were a falsehood, and even then, it had taken him a long time to accept it. Looking at Harry, who was now peacefully sleeping, he knew those Dursleys had been just as foul as he'd always assumed they'd be.

Guilt choked him in its stranglehold again; it was all his fault that Harry had had to grow up with them. He vowed that he'd get to the bottom of the damage those beasts had done to that child. Nausea gripped him as he hoped, with everything he had in him, that it was not worse than what it seemed on the surface ... and what was on the surface was bad enough.

As the minutes ticked by, Sirius reaffirmed the vow he'd made to Harry. He knew that he hadn't even begun to scratch the surface of the boy's guilt. He knew that simply saying, "None of this was your fault, Harry. Cedric's death and Voldemort's return weren't your fault," would not help in the slightest.

Merlin knew, he would always wrestle with that particular demon himself when it came to Lily and James. And oh, God, Lily and James ... Harry had seen them as mere echoes coming out of Voldemort's wand. Even in death, they had been there for their son. He knew that for Harry, this would be one of the hardest things to process, and Sirius told himself firmly that he would never, ever let Harry see the pure, unadulterated jealousy that had flared up in him when he had found out that for a very short time, Harry had seen their faces, had gotten to talk to them.

Sirius would have given anything, anything, for that chance ... the chance to look at them once more, to hear their voices again, to apologize to them for being such a fool, to promise them that he'd take care of their son ...

Viciously, Sirius forced those thoughts out of his head. His feelings on the matter were irrelevant; he needed to help Harry process all of this rather than focus on his own selfish wants and desires. Lily and James were counting on him, and he knew that feeling jealous of Harry, even for just a split second, was despicable. The boy had been through enough to last a thousand lifetimes, and Sirius would see him through the healing process every step of the way.

And as Sirius continued to stroke Harry's hair, he felt sleep closing in on him as well, and knowing that the boy was safe for now, he let it take him into its hold.