Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter. Doesn't that suck? Guess I'll just have to come up with my own genius, millions-making story idea, but in the meantime, I'll just stick to writing fanfiction.

A/N: After a very long absence, I'm back! In the past three months I've graduated from college, moved, and started a new job, so as you can probably imagine, real life as been very stressful and a bit insane.

I've decided that Marvolo is way, way too nice in this story (and let's be honest, Harry and Sirius are seriously outshining him), so the Dark Lord will be playing a much bigger role in my next fic (TBD). Speaking of which, there are only a few chapters to go, so vote on the poll in my profile! I'll be closing it soon.

Chapter 26

Following the Quidditch win against Slytherin, Harry's peaceful spring term continued. Until the Easter holidays rolled around.

It was time to go to Godric's Hollow.

Sirius met Harry at the train platform and escorted him out before side-along apparating him to Grimmauld Place. "Sorry for missing the game against Slytherin, but I heard it was good. It was worth it to just see Lucius foaming at the mouth at Draco's loss."

"Are we going to the cottage now?"

"I thought you'd like some lunch first."

"I ate on the train."

"Pumpkin pasties and chocolate frogs don't count as lunch, Harry." Sirius gave him a nudge in the direction of the kitchen. "Food should already be on the table, I'll be right there."

Harry went to go eat, while Sirius made a pit stop by his study to double check a few documents. They were from the goblins, of course. He had acted as Harry's guardian to ensure that more secure wards were placed around the cottage and the land that it occupied. He didn't trust Fudge's competency.

"Sirius, come eat! Your soup's getting cold!" his godson yelled up the stairs.

"Coming!" Sirius shouted back.

When he made it to the kitchen, Harry was already almost done eating. "So when are we leaving?"

"Soon, I promise. Why don't you go change and put on something older? I still haven't been inside, so I don't know what kind of state everything is in."

"Got it." Harry slurped down the rest of his soup, ignoring Narcissa's voice in the back of his mind and the phantom stinging in his hands and dashed up to his room.

Harry was back downstairs in less than five minutes?"

"Can we go now?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Dudley's hand-me-downs. I kept a couple things after we went shopping just in case I needed them."

Sirius eyed the rolled-up jeans, the belt wrapped twice around Harry's waist, and the jumper that was sagging off his right shoulder. "Remind me to light a fire tonight. And we definitely need to have that talk about those Dursleys. Are you ready to go?"

Harry gave a quick nod. "Ready."

"We'll be apparating. Remus will meet us there a little later."

When they arrived, Harry was relieved because the memorial was gone. Now it was just a sad, sad house that had been a home. The first thing Sirius did was wave his wand to set the door to rights.

"I guess that'll need a new coat of paint."

Sirius looked down, although not too far, since Harry was growing like a weed, at his godson. "I guess you're right." That was an understatement. There were deep gouges in the wood and what was left of the dark green paint Lily had chosen was peeling.

"And it'll have to be landscaped, too. I can do the weeding."

"I'm sure there are plenty of companies that do it. We'll just have to find the right one."

"It's fine. I used to weed…" Harry trailed off.

"We'll talk about it later." Sirius then cast a quick reparo on the broken front window and there was a light clinking sound as the glass reassembled. "Ready to go in?"

"I guess so."

Sirius gently pulled open the just recently fixed front door by the tarnished handle. The lock had been obliterated. "Stay by me Harry. You never know what we might find. And watch were you step."

"Ok."

There was some light coming through the windows in the front room, but not a lot. The old couch was still there, except it's studding was strewn across the room. The beige carpet was dirty and scorched, and the remnants of what had probably a vase were all over.

"I think Petunia gave Lily that for Christmas one year. I don't think she'd mind if we didn't fix it." But Sirius did fix the couch, righted the coffee table, cleaned the rug the best he could, and vanished the broken bits of ceramic.

"Sirius, look."

Sirius looked up to see more damage, mostly evidence of spell fire, including one particularly large hole that, if he remembered correctly, went straight through the floor of bathroom. "I'll get it fixed. Should we do the kitchen?"

The kitchen was pristine.

There was a slight layer of dust on the tile countertops, but otherwise, it was as clean as the night that Lily and James had last used it.

"Do you think the food's any good? The power's not working."

Sirius shook his head. "I probably wouldn't eat it. Food's not supposed to be under stasis for twelve years. I'll remind Remus to bin it."

"What was my dad's favorite food?"

"If it was food, James would eat it."

"What about my mum?"

"She could eat treacle tart like there was no tomorrow. She always hogged it when we had it for dessert. The one's she made were always delicious."

"So, what's next?"

"There's not much else down here. The dining room looks fine, from what I can see. I guess we should go upstairs."

They heard a pop.

"Hello?"

"We're in the kitchen!"

They heard the creaking of the front door and then footsteps. It was Remus. "You doing alright Sirius? You look a little…"

"I know. We're doing upstairs next."

"Oh. Harry, why don't we go check the cupboards in here quickly while Sirius makes sure that it's safe to go up there. He might have to repair the roof."

Harry's quiet agreeance was enough to propel Sirius out of the room and to the stairs. The last time he had stood here, he had seen a pale, bare, unmoving foot.

And then a leg.

And then torn pajamas.

And then a dropped wand.

A frozen hand.

Askew glasses.

Glassy hazel eyes.

And a look of silent, complete, and final horror.

Sirius was shaking by the time he finished ascending the stairs, and hadn't even noticed that he had been crying until something very wet and salty began to drip from his chin. He allowed himself a few sniffs and a few moments before soldiering on.

All of the doors in the corridor had been blasted open at one point, each bearing large, singular holes. There was no point of checking the guest room, but he felt wrong entering the bedroom that James and Lily had shared.

The bed had been lifted and smashed against the opposite wall, and downy feathers littered the room. A quick glance into their closet revealed that everything else had been spared.

The bathroom was unsalvageable – the curse through the living room ceiling had ensured that.

Next was the nursery.

Sirius steeled himself.

More light was coming into the room through the whole in the roof, making it light and cheery. But if he thought hard enough, he could still see Lily laying on the ground, her hair fanned around her head like an angry halo.

"Can we come up?" he heard Remus shout up the stairs.

Right. Harry and Remus.

"Su—re." He cleared his throat after his voice cracked mid-word. "Sure. Remus, I think I'll need your help here."

Together, Sirius and Remus patched the gaping hole the best they could, at least until they could find someone better equipped to repair massive structural damage from curse backlash.

Sirius turned around to see Harry tracing a path in the dust along the rail of his former crib. "Was I really this tiny?"

"You were tinier. About this long," Remus said, gesturing with his hands, "but you were heavier than you looked."

"Is this where my mum died?"

"She was protecting you. I promise you, she tried her very best."

###

They were back at Grimmauld Place a few hours later. They had taken anything truly valuable, such as Lily's jewelry box and both of Harry's parents' Hogwarts trunk, and would go back to do a more through inventory. Not to mention that there was still a ton of repairs left to make.

Sirius, Remus, and Harry were sitting in the living room, each with a cup of hot chocolate and a small plate of snacks.

"This is way better than dinner," Harry remarked as he tore into a slice of treacle tart."

"I told you," Remus murmured to Sirius, "Kids are resilient. Just look at me." In a slightly louder voice he said, "Hopefully, dessert instead of dinner doesn't happen too often around here."

Sirius shrugged and sent an exaggerated wink in Harry's direction.

"So, Harry, Sirius mentioned something about the Dursleys?"

"Seriously? Not you too! It's fine, really."

"Then either you're unreliably minute, which I doubt, or your cousin is the size of a baby elephant."

"I mean, he probably is now. His school nurse put him on a diet, and Aunt Petunia made him follow it, but Uncle Vernon would always sneak him takeaway and crisps."

"Is that the same one that Lily described as being a cross between a grumpy walrus and an angry bear?"

"Sounds about right."

"Harry, Sirius also said something about you having to do chores? Like weeding gardens?"

"Aunt Petunia was really proud of her begonias. She had me weeding the planting bed all the time."

"And what did Dudley do?"

Harry looked at Sirius like he was mad. "Dudley never had to do chores."

"Doesn't that strike you as a bit unfair?"

"Uncle Vernon called it 'earning my keep'."

"So, they didn't tell you that they received funds for taking care of you and declaring you a member of their household?"

Harry just shook his head. "They called me a burden."

"Harry James Potter, you have never been, and never will be, a burden to anyone, least of all a man with a walrus man and his elephant of a son."

"Creative insults."

"Thank you; I tried."

Remus continued with his questions. "What else did you have to do?"

"I made breakfast, I dusted and vacuumed, washed Uncle Vernon's car, once Aunt Petunia had me repaint the shed, mowed the lawn, weeded the plants, and trimmed the hedges."

Sirius' and Remus' eyebrows rose higher and higher as Harry's list went on. "And when did you start doing all of these things?"

"I started with dusting the things I could reach when I was five, then I started doing breakfast for Uncle Vernon and Dudley when I was about seven, and then the yardwork when I was eight. Before that I spent most of my time in my cupboard."

Remus looked confused. "Your cupboard? Like a little hideaway or play space?"

"No, my room."