To Build A Home

Summary: A simple raid at 12 Grimmauld Place ends up changing the lives of two families as Mr. Potter finds an injured child and his terrified brother. The Potters take Sirius and Regulus in and the brothers soon realize that there's a difference between a house and a home.

This is a place where I don't feel alone…

This is a place where I feel at home…

Chapter One

The day started off like any other.

Mr. Potter happily ruffled his son's hair before giving his wife a peck on the cheek. She flushed, as she always did, and asked if he could stop at the Apothecary to pick up some herbs before he came home. He said that he would and added that he was just doing raids today—that it should only take a few hours. He then told his son that the two of them could fly around on their brooms after dinner, weather permitting. He briefly considered taking the day off so that he and James could spend all day flying. He decided against it. It wasn't worth the row with Fudge. And so, he grabbed his briefcase, gave his wife another peck, and Apparated away.

He landed right in his cubicle and was amused to see that the other Aurors were already there, waiting for his orders.

"Sorry," Mr. Potter apologized, "Elizabeth made pancakes."

"And you think that excuse your tardiness?" Alastor Moody growled.

"Ah," Mr. Potter slyly aid, "But they were banana nut pancakes."

"Well, that's different then," Moody snorted, "Any extras?"

"In a tin on the counter," Mr. Potter replied, "Stop by for dinner and I'll give you some to take home. We're having meatloaf."

"I'll take you up on that," Moody agreed.

Mr. Potter beamed before suddenly becoming very professional, "Alright, men! You all have your itineraries. Move out!"

"Yes, sir!"

He proudly smiled as many of the Aurors Apparated away. Two of them stayed behind, aiming to go with him.

They would be visiting the Black family at 12 Grimmauld Place today. Mr. Potter had heard about the Blacks' reputation but he had never dealt with them personally. He hoped that they would be reasonable.

A few moments later, he watched as the house unfolded itself before his very eyes.

He climbed the front steps and smartly knocked on the door.

It flew open to reveal an angry house-elf.

He surveyed Mr. Potter for a moment before snapping, "Yes?"

"Is the owner of the household present?" Mr. Potter professionally asked.

The house-elf's frown deepened and he spat, "Who wants to know?"

"My name is Benjamin Potter," Mr. Potter quietly explained, "I am a Lieutenant at the Auror Office at the Ministry for Magic. This is a surprise raid."

He held up both his shield and the warrant.

"MISTRESS!"

Mr. Potter jumped at the house-elf's frantic shriek.

A woman hurried into the foyer and pushed the elf aside. She would have been quite beautiful, with a flawless complexion, ebony hair, and a beautiful set of dress robes. Yet her face seemed to be pulled into a ugly scowl.

Sure enough, her tone was less than pleasant as she snapped, "What do you want!?"

Mr. Potter repeated his statement, held up the evidence, and added, "Are you Walburga?"

"I am," Walburga declared, "And you have no right to enter my house!"

"As previously stated," Mr. Potter patiently said, "This is a surprise raid."

"We didn't receive any notification!"

"Yes," Mr. Potter agreed, "That's why it's called a 'surprise raid'."

For a moment, she looked like she was going to slam the door.

At long last, she snapped, "Fine! We have nothing to hide!"

Mr. Potter entered the parlor and quickly performed several spells. He came to the conclusion that the parlor was clean, though there was definitely evidence that dark magic may have occurred here. Unfortunately, unless he found solid evidence, he couldn't make an arrest.

He made his way upstairs, routinely checking every room. The other two Aurors did the same, bagging and tagging any evidence that they found.

Mr. Potter finally made it to the fourth floor.

He opened the door on the left and gave a start.

It was a bedroom and it was not unoccupied.

A boy was sitting on the bed.

He couldn't have been older than five; maybe six. His skin was very light. Mr. Potter was pale himself, but he could see the blue veins beneath this boy's skin. The boy had a thin face—perhaps a bit too thin—with fine features. There was not a single black hair out of place. His eyes were silver and dull. Mr. Potter immediately thought of James. His hazel eyes were always sparkling with adventure. Every child's eyes should have a spark. And yet, here the boy sat, looking absolutely miserable. Mr. Potter realized that this could be attributed to the boy's scratchy clothes. Despite the summer heat, the boy was wearing heavy dress robes.

"Hello," Mr. Potter cheerfully said, "My name is Benjamin Potter. I'm an Auror."

He took out his badge and handed it over. The boy's eyes momentarily sparkled with curiosity. He then tossed it away, as though it burned his hands.

Mr. Potter picked it up, befuddled, before gently asking for the boy's name.

The boy didn't provide one and instead continued to sit in silence.

Mr. Potter knelt down next to him and whispered, "Can you speak?"

The boy stared at him but made no attempt to respond.

"Bite your tongue, boy!"

Both the boy and Mr. Potter jumped at the hiss.

Mr. Potter leapt to his feet and turned.

A man was standing in the doorway. He was tall with broad shoulders. His black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Like his wife and son, he was wearing dress robes. Yet, Mr. Potter hardly cared about what he was wearing. He was too focused on the man's expression.

Orion Black looked furious.

"He hasn't said a word," Mr. Potter coolly pointed out, "Not one."

Orion surveyed him for a moment before nodding.

His tone was slightly calmer as he asked, "Are you finished?"

Mr. Potter hesitated. There was no trace of dark magic in the bedroom. He would send the Magical Child Protective Services a tip for good measure. Just in case…

But yes, at the moment, he was finished.

He nodded and Orion quietly said, "I'll show you out."

He turned on his heel and stomped away.

Mr. Potter sighed and went to follow him.

At that moment, however, someone tugged at his sleeve.

He looked down and realized that the boy was pointedly staring at him.

"What is it?" Mr. Potter whispered.

The boy said nothing.

Instead, he lifted a shaky finger and pointed to the door across the corridor.

Mr. Potter glanced back and forth before murmuring, "Do you want me to go in there?"

The boy nodded and sat back down on the bed.

Mr. Potter curiously went over to the door and turned the doorknob.

It didn't budge.

"Oi," Orion snapped, "You keep out of there! You're not allowed to enter locked rooms!"

Spoken like a man who was used to the raiding process.

Unfortunately, Mr. Potter had to reluctantly agree.

He would need a stronger warrant to search that room.

Unless…

He could hear something from behind the door.

He strained his ears…

It was faint but there was no mistaking it.

Somebody was whimpering in pain.

"Alohamora!" Mr. Potter cried, slashing his wand through the air.

The door flew open and he hurried inside.

He found himself standing in another bedroom.

A lump stirred beneath the blanket on the bed. Black hair fanned the pillow. It was matted with dirt and grease. Could this be the boy's sister?

No. As Mr. Potter drew closer, he realized that it was another boy. He looked slightly older than the boy in the bedroom. His eyes were tightly closed, his mouth pulled into a frown.

His cheeks were raw.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Potter whispered.

He reached up and gently rested his hand against the boy's forehead.

He woke with a retched scream. Mr. Potter leapt back but the boy continued to cry in agony. Tears spilled down his face and he rolled right off of the bed.

"There, there!" Mr. Potter cried, "It's alright."

The boy curled into a ball, shaking and moaning.

"What ails you, child?" Mr. Potter asked, "What's wrong?"

He was in too much pain to speak. All at once, he fell limp. Mr. Potter cried out in shock and knelt down next to him, quickly checking for a pulse. There was one, though it was weak.

He scooped one arm beneath the boys' knees and wrapped the other arm around his shoulders. He took a deep breath before jumping to his feet, carefully cradling the child.

"Lieutenant Potter?"

The two other Aurors entered the room, waiting for a command.

"This boy needs to be taken to the hospital at once," Mr. Potter declared.

His apprentice—Kingsley Shacklebolt—nodded. The man was in his early twenties and had only been a member of Mr. Potter's division for six months. He was always quick to side with Mr. Potter, especially when children were involved.

Unfortunately, John Dawlish—a man in his mid-thirties—hesitated. He cleared his throat and said, "Sir, you need a court-order to remove a child from his home."

"There's no time," Mr. Potter remarked, "He's fading away. I'll Apparate him to St. Mungo's. I want you and Shacklebolt to finish securing this house."

"Yes, Lieutenant," Kingsley immediately replied.

John hesitated before saying, "Yes, Lieutenant."

Kingsley abruptly spoke up, "Sir…"

He jerked his head towards the doorway and Mr. Potter realized that the other child was standing there, worriedly gazing at him.

"Come here, child," Mr. Potter softly said.

The boy hesitated before racing forward.

"Your brother is going to be fine," Mr. Potter assuredly said, "I'm going to take him to the hospital. If you hold onto my elbow, I'll take you with me."

The boy hesitated before reaching up and holding onto him.

"Hold on tightly," Mr. Potter warned, "Don't let go. Alright?"

The boy nodded and Mr. Potter turned on the spot.

The two landed on a sterile floor in the middle of a hospital ward. The boy stumbled away from Mr. Potter, his eyes wide with shock.

"Help!" Mr. Potter barked, "Help this child!"

Several Healers raced over.

One conjured a stretcher and Mr. Potter gently set the injured boy down. He was whisked away almost immediately.

His brother charged forward, alarmed yet still speechless.

Mr. Potter caught him and gently said, "It's okay. He's going to be okay."

Unfortunately, the boy burst into tears.

Mr. Potter tightly hugged him and whispered, "There, there."

The boy glanced up at him, his eyes saying what words couldn't.

"I'm not going to leave," Mr. Potter assuredly said, "I promise."

And Mr. Potter always kept his promises.

Author's Note: Let me start off by saying that I've had this idea for a while! I really love writing stories about children, especially Sirius and Regulus. As of right now, Sirius is almost seven and Regulus is five. The story will follow the next five years of their lives. There are a lot of sappy moments, a lot of happy moments, and some dramatic moments. The point-of-view is going to be fairly flexible. Unlike Blackbird, where I had the odd chapters be from Sirius' POV and the even chapters be from Regulus' POV, this story is going to be from a third-person POV that focuses on different characters as the scene permits.

Without giving too much away, I promise that there will be a happy ending to this story! But honestly, it doesn't matter if I reveal the ending. After all, this story is about the journey!