This is a Harry Potter/Twilight 'Harry Black' Challenge made by AbNaGbEyL:
Instead of handing Harry over to Hagrid that night, Sirius keeps him and doesn't go after Peter. Unfortunately, the Rat get's away and he is still blamed for his best friend's betrayal. Upon realizing this, Sirius flees to America where his -very- distant cousin and last respectable family member lives.
Billy Black had been born of a squib line that started a few hundred years before, but he happily accepts his cousin into his home and agrees to help him raise young Harry alongside his own son, Jacob.
Naturally, Jacob and Harry grow up as best friends and brothers...but will their bond hold when Harry falls in love with a vampire fifteen years later?
If anybody's interested, I've tried to work out their ages so it's as close to cannon as possible. Rebecca and Rachel Black are both 11 at the start, and Jacob is 10 months old, while Harry is fifteen months old at the beginning of the story. Sirius Black is 22 years old at the beginning, while Billy Black is 34 and Rachel Black is 32.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or Harry Potter; they are copyrighted by their authors and are not owned by me; I'm not making money off this.
Billy Black's day started as any other day would have. He woke up to the about-to-blare alarm, gently shook his Sarah, his wife, awake, and took his morning shower. He roused Rebecca and Rachel awake in their bunk beds (earning a lovely bruise on his forehead for his efforts) and strutted his way down to the kitchen. Bacon sizzled when he plucked Jacob, his ten month old son, from Sarah's arms. His two daughters tromped their way down the stairs and shuffled ungracefully in seats. The identical twins drooled as their mother served the customary but never-tiring bacon. Both their parents were under the impression the pair were carnivores and sugar addicts, but somehow inherited some mutant ability that refused weight. Sarah was equally jealous and grateful for their metabolism, but Billy waited for the day he would hold his favorite Bowie knife against an arrogant boy who thought they were good enough for his daughter.
Jacob settled in his blue high-chair, and the family sat and ate breakfast. Sarah soon shooed the girls into the car, kissed Billy goodbye, and his girls went their way to school. Sarah as a kindergarten teacher, and his daughters as middle school, seventh grade students.
Billy spent the entire day with Jacob, making a strange attempt at lunch (in the end, he'd given up and fed the kid some strawberry jam that was meant for toast), and making himself some noodles to appease his stomach. By the time four o'clock rolled around, his daughters hopped off the bus and raced inside. Rebecca was eager to dump her school things on the ground and race up and hug Jacob. Rachel picked up her sister's discarded bag and walked upstairs to put them both away. "How's your day been, dad?" She asked.
"Been good," he replied. She looked suspiciously. "What did you guys eat? Mom didn't leave leftovers 'cause we took them to school."
"Well, I ate noodles.." Rachel glared at her father. "And what did Jacob eat?"
"Uh...well....he ate strawberry jam."
"DAD!" He winced. His daughters inherited their lungs from their mother, he swore. He wasn't really worried about their yelling; it was nothing compared to his wife. He prayed that they didn't tell their mother, otherwise, he would be sleeping outside in the rain, covered in mud and in the literal dog house. He snatched Jacob from his daughter's arms and held him up to the yelling girls in some sad hope of escaping spittle. Jacob laughed in delight and clapped his hands, cooing over his sudden height. In the entire fiasco, the phone rang. Billy set Jacob on the ground in confusion. His daughters looked strangely at the phone, before running over the phone. "We don't know the number," they replied. "Must be for you dad!"
'Now, who would be calling?' he wondered.
With the thoughts still running through his head, he picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Bill?" An unfamiliar accented voice.
"Who is this?" He asked in suspicion. His phone number wasn't handed left and right. Neither was his name. His children looked up in curiosity, but he waved them off. The pair began to entertain Jacob by playing with his squishy blocks.
"It's Sirius," the man on the other line coughed. Billy heard a faint wailing of a baby. "Do you remember me?"
Sirius. Sirius. "You're in England," Billy replied, thoughtfully. "I haven't talked to you since the wedding! How have you been?"
"Sort of a bad time for pleasantries," Sirius murmured back. "It's sudden, but please, can we live at your place?"
"My godson and I. H-his parents," the man struggled with the words, "died. Just a few hours ago..."
"I...I'm sorry," Billy said, unsure of how to act. "Did I know them?"
"James Potter and Lily Evans..." the man replied, as if in a daze. "I..I need a place to hide out for awhile, Bill. Please."
"You can, don't worry about that, but why?" Billy asked. "I don't want to have policemen at my door arresting me for association or something," he joked.
The other line remained silent. "Uh, Sirius, don't tell me you actually...killed someone?"
"No, no.." Sirius said distractedly. Billy worried; it sounded like he was hyperventilating, and the baby was still wailing, but quieter. "You just got awful close to the real answer. They think..they think I killed Harry's p-parents. I didn't, I swear!" Sirius started to sob frantically. "I didn't, I didn't!"
"I believe you, I believe you," Billy assured. Charlie had given him lessons on dealing with panicking people when Sarah had freaked out on being pregnant. "I believe you, Sirius. I believe you. If the police come knocking--" Billy thought it wise not to mention one of his best friends was the police chief, "--I won't let them get you. I promise, Sirius. Now, how are you going to get here?"
"Portkey." He replied promptly. It was the only thing that he sounded completely sure of.
"Where will it go?"
"You..you live near Forks, don't you?" Sirius stammered.
"Yes. In the Indian Reservation, in La Push. Does the portkey go to Forks instead?" His daughters looked in confusion at the strange word, but took little notice to his conversation. They assumed it was an "adult" conversation over adult things.
"The beach in La Push," Sirius jabbered. "Only place I can remember right now near you..pick me up there?"
"Yeah, it's fine. When?"
"In the next hour or two." He heard the sound of cracking glass, and the wailing became more pronounced. "See you soon," Sirius said, hanging up.
Billy turned towards Jacob. Sirius was coming. "What have I gotten into?" Billy asked the baby boy. Jacob cooed and waved a hand of spit at Billy. He needed to call Sarah soon. No need for him to be sleeping on the couch after all....
Sirius scrambled from the shattered phone booth, ignoring the nicks and cuts he gathered when he accumulated. Harry was covered with a protection charm. There was nothing that could hurt him apart from dark curses, and his old teammates chasing after him were too scared that he'd use Harry as a shield. Not that he would ever do that. What self-respecting godfather would?
The dark-haired man darted down the street, scraped around the corner, and raced into an alleyway. Unfortunately for these Aurors, Sirius knew London like he knew Hogwarts. As such, he had no problems scaling a rusty fire escape, leaping across three roofs, and diving into the sewer to charm an illegal Portkey. However, it hardly meant that Harry didn't have a problem with it. Sewer rats shed away from the artificial light shining in from the street lights, and the smell stunk worse than troll puke. Harry wouldn't stop crying; Sirius gathered it was either from the stress of the night or the stink. Maybe he was hungry or had gone in his diapers, but that was something Sirius couldn't solve at the moment.
Sirius could hear the Aurors, stomping over the cement above him as he wandered around in the sewers with his wand to light the way. During Auror training, he realized many inconsistencies and holes that Aurors never really thought about. Underground, for one, was something that was never approached until the end. Sirius and James were the Auror prodigies because they thought about every sort of attack, from above to below. They'd really only learned through pranks; wizarding kind only saw back and front. When they attacked from different angles, wizards were thrown for a loop. On top of that, Aurors didn't know anything about the Muggle world. A few dedicated ones took the time to understand a bit of the more important things and how to disguise, but few really knew how it worked. It was too easy to get them lost in muggle London, highly-trained special forces or not.
"Tempus," Sirius murmured. It had nearly been an hour since he had called Billy; time to make that portkey. Sirius looked around for an object, any object. In the end, he pulled a small sheet of metal from the rotting wall. Infusing his magic, and with a wave of his wand and a mumbled "Portus", he easily made a portkey. The Ministry boasted about how difficult it was, but he'd easily flirted one of the portkey makers, who revealed it was just like Apparation, only infusing the ideas and thoughts during Apparation into an object. 'Not too difficult, but an awful like charming something inanimate to think,' Sirius recalled.
He tucked the metal into Harry's baby blanket, cradling Harry in his arms as he waited for portkey to activate. It was almost 3 in the morning; seven at night, Billy's time. He desperately hoped he wouldn't be causing too much trouble for his cousin.....they hadn't been in contact for a long while. He'd stopped calling when the war had started catching up and calls could be traced, even if wizards didn't think much of it. Voldemort was a half-blood--he knew these things. The combination of a genius, insanity and magic was never good, and Sirius had always worried he would find a way to break the Marauders apart, either through death or grief. Sirius wasn't stupid; if Billy and his Squib family were killed, Sirius would be out for at least a month mourning. And so, in a rare act of personal protection, he had burned any bridges that tied him to the Black family in the United States.
The Aurors were tromping about, yelling orders above his head. He thought it would be inevitable until a muggle-born pointed out he might've gone in the sewers, but it would be a while before they thought of it. And hopefully, he would be long gone. He awaited the portkey, counting seconds.
Just as the Aurors had decided to check the sewers, dropping their heavy weights into the green water, the portkey activated. With a flash of blue, Sirius Black and Harry Potter left England.
Billy wasn't sure what to think. Sarah had come home, and he had explained the situation to them as best he could.
"It's my cousin from England," he explained. "He's the main branch of the family and he said he's in trouble."
"But why does he have to live with us?" Rachel, his smart daughter, asked.
"I'm the only cousin who likes him that isn't living in England or the Isles," Billy responded. "If I'm remembering the amount of family members that like him, it's only about three out of the entire bunch." Here, he shrugged. "They don't really like me either, so no harm, no foul."
Sarah walked up behind his chair and hugged him. "By any chance, was this the man at our wedding who thought it would be funny if he stole your tuxedo the day you were supposed to walk down the isle?"
Billy laughed. "Yes. Sirius is going to be coming here with his godson. I'm sorry for not saying so earlier, but he was distressed and I got the call today. He'll be here in the next hour or two. Is it..alright with you all?"
His family wisely kept silent at his words. It was physically impossible for a man from England to arrive in less than three hours, Rebecca thought. It was another thing that the twins would be hashing out late at night. "It'll be fine," his wife assured. "We have the guest room. How old his godson?"
"Just a little older than Jacob."
His daughters cooed and gossiped, acting like expecting mothers. Another poor boy to suffer under their attentions, Billy thought. His wife smiled cheerfully. "That's good; we won't have to buy another bed at least. We still have the extra cradle, and the playpen's big enough for Jake and Harry. It's all going to be fine. And look, we won't have to search for a friend." She tugged lightly at his shoulder-length hair, wrapping her arms around Billy's wide shoulders. "It's all good. Are you going to go pick them up? I'll get everything set up and cook some more dinner."
Billy nodded distractedly. His family was the greatest, he decided, to be so accepting of people they'd never really known about.
In a short span of time, Billy drove out to the beach he had brought Sirius cliff-diving, and climbed down to the rocks. It had been awhile since he had come around here. Everybody was a bit busy raising the next generation of Quileutes to have the month bonfires nowadays. The sky was overcast and the waves were rough and harsh tonight. He wasn't really sure where Sirius would pop up; the beach itself wasn't all that big, but he was desperately hoping that this was the one Sirius meant because otherwise, there was more than enough coastline that it would take him all night to find him. Not to mention, some of it was on forbidden Cullen territory, and even if they weren't residing right now, he loathed to step in it.
Fate seemed to be smiling on him today; Sirius appeared a hundred yards away, tumbling to the ground with a small bundle in his arms. Billy heard the clack of metal as Sirius struggled to stand. Billy raced towards him. "Sirius!"
"Bill?" Sirius seemed disorientated, wobbling on his unsteady legs. "Nice to see you."
Billy shuffled the man into his the old red truck, strapping him in with the seat belt (Sirius hadn't know what a seat belt was the first time, and in this state, wasn't likely to remember) and hopped into the driver's seat. He backed away from the cliff and onto the road. "Are you alright?"
Billy looked at the bundle. "Your godson, right?"
"Harry James Potter," Sirius croaked. He struggled to unravel the blanket with his shaking fingers until a baby's head with a dark black mop of hair and pale skin was visible. His face was red, and Sirius carefully wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks. He was sleeping and sucking on his thumb like any other baby.
"He's cute. Sarah and the kids'll love him." Billy said, hoping to ease Sirius' fears. "We've got a lot of baby supplies because of Jacob, so it'll be fine."
The man nodded distractedly. "Cousin," Billy continued, worried. He wasn't seeing much of the kid he recalled back in high school. "What's been happening in the Wizarding World?"
"You don't keep up with it?" He inquired. Billy shook his head. "Sarah knows I'm a squib, but we haven't really told any of the children, apart from old tales and traditions. Until they've got to know, they're better off in the dark...being muggles."
Sirius nodded. He found it similar to Lily's attempt to protect her family by pushing them away. He personally didn't agree with the sentiment, but Lily had thought it was for the best, even if it broke her heart. "Sirius?" Billy asked, bringing Sirius back to the present.
"War broke out," Sirius replied harshly. "Dark Lord Voldemort rose to power in 1970."
"The terrorist? You told me he just murdered a few people here and there and that you'd all catch him soon enough though," Billy argued.
"He gathered followers. It's generally hard to catch one wizard when there are ten raids over the country," Sirius countered, tilting his head forward until his chin touched his chest. Sirius was tired of it all, his mind couldn't keep up. James was dead, Lily was dead...Harry was with him, they were running from the Aurors.....
The rest of the ride was silent. Billy didn't think it wise to confront Sirius and assure him it hadn't been his fault. Sirius was nothing but hard-headed, and would need more than kind words. Sirius was drowning in memories and regrets. If only he'd asked the Potter family out to dinner that night like he had planned....if only he'd gotten his sense of mind and trusted Remus Lupin.....if only he 'd hadn't chosen Peter...