Sirius walked slowly up the spiral staircase, the knife held tight in his hand. He moved so quietly, it was as if he were a ghost. Finally, he reached the door. The Gryffindor Third-Year Boys dormitory.
The door eased open without a sound and he stepped inside. All five bed curtains were drawn shut.
He's here… Sirius thought maliciously.
His heart pounded with revenge, but he did not want to cause uproar. He'll have to be very careful.
Slowly, he walked up to the first bed and opened the curtains. He did not recognize the boy so he shut the curtains. The next bed was just as disappointing, as was the next one.
Sirius pulled open the fourth bed and froze. His eyes, which were first narrow with fiery rage, softened almost instantly. His mouth hung slightly open in surprise. His heart gave a huge pound, not with anger or revenge, but with both happiness and grief.
The boy's face was almost an exact match to his father with the untidy black hair to compliment it. His round glasses lay on a small table next to the bed. The boy did not notice the intruder at all and slept on.
Sirius took a step forward, nearer to the boy's bed and stopped. It had been so long since he had seen his own godson this close. So much had changed. His heart began to ache. It was as if he was looking at his best friend again.
Twelve years… Sirius thought. Twelve years have passed since I last saw you properly, Harry.
Harry turned over in his sleep. Sirius was scared he might wake up, but was thankful he didn't.
Sirius's eyes were full of sadness as they looked at Harry.
He felt a sudden urge to wake Harry and prove his innocence, but it was a stupid idea. With all of those wanted posters of him and the stories of him being a "mass murderer", he knew it would be useless.
He must have heard what everyone has said I am… If only he knew the truth.
Without Pettigrew as proof… the true traitor…
He felt his heart pounding with rage as the name reentered his head, but he had to remain calm. Otherwise, all of it, the escape, the hunting of the man who ratted out his best friend, trying to clear his name… all of it would go to waste.
Sirius took a deep breath to calm him and looked at his sleeping godson. He carefully reached forward, grabbed the blanket and pulled it up over Harry's shoulder to keep him warmer. He laid a gentle hand on Harry's arm and sighed.
"I'm sorry, Harry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry, for everything."
Sirius stood back up and closed the curtains to Harry's bed. His eyes turned to the final bed. The bed of the red-headed boy.