Part 1: Initiating Operation Pronglet (The Lord Padfoot Prank)

June 9th 1994

Sirius landed by the ruin of the Potters' home in Godric's Hollow. He dismounted
the hippogriff, fighting against the urge to get back on and continue flying. The
hippogriff snorted and backed away, heading towards a nearby puddle of water for a
drink. There had been no clear destination in mind when Sirius had flown away from
Hogwarts but something had pulled him to the Potters' old home.

The house was a crumbling wreck, shrouded in darkness. The cottage had been a
wedding present from James's father to his son, an acknowledgement that unlike
times of old, the newly married couple were not expected to live at Potter House
with James's father, his mother having died when James was seventeen. Sirius could
see in his mind's eye the way it had looked in its prime; the outside walls covered
with ivy with the whitewashed stone peeking out in between the green periodically;
the tidy front garden with its lavender and honeysuckle; the gleaming windows
underlined with their boxes of flowers and herbs Lily's pride and joy.

He let out a shuddering breath, a sob catching at the back of his throat. He
shouldn't have come back, Sirius thought tiredly, but where else was there to go
when there was nowhere else to go but home. And the cottage with its bright blue
door with the griffin knocker had once been his home as much as James's and Lily's.
He had always been welcome there; had lived there for a time while he recovered
from tangling with Death Eaters and almost dying. Of course when James had lost his
father, he'd moved himself, Lily and Harry to Potter House, but they had soon moved
back when they'd needed to go into hiding.

Sirius closed his eyes against the wave of memories; the bright sunny rooms, Harry
in his crib gurgling with laughter, James grinning about some prank, Lily teasing
them both with a glint in her eye

He rubbed at his forehead. It felt like years of fog were beginning to clear.
Twelve years in Azkaban had left its mark, Sirius determined, that and his own
blind rage at Peter. And that had started right where he was standing.

The memory of that night cut through his mind; sharp images of loss, the
overwhelming panic when he'd realised Peter was missing; the shock of grief and
terror at the sight of the house, and James deadJames, his best friend

The grief sent him to his knees again just as it had on that terrible night.

Then, there had been Hagrid with Harry and orders to take Sirius's godson to
Dumbledore and Lily's sister, Petunia. In hindsight, Sirius should have gone with
him and told Dumbledore about Peter. He shouldn't have let Harry out of his sight.
But he'd truly believed Harry would be safe with Dumbledore, and he had been
fiercely pleased that it left him free to go after Peter. He'd been so stupid.

He opened his eyes and took in the sight of the battered house again. "I screwed
up, James. I suggested Peter as Secret Keeper and he knew I'd come after him for
betraying you. He was ready for me."

He shook his head. He could remember the confrontation as though it had happened
the day before; the cold of the air, the smell of rain, Peter's smug expression as
he'd made his accusation and the heat of the explosion.

He'd been blown backwards, landing in a heap, blood pouring from a wound on his
head. Had he actually been concussed? His thoughts had been cloudy and muddled, all
over the place. He couldn't remember much of anything eithercouldn't remember his
trial had there actually been a trial? couldn't remember anything except waking
up days, weeks, maybe months later in Azkaban with no way of contacting anyone who
might have helped him. He'd taken refuge in the knowledge that he was innocent and
the small comfort that Harry was safe. And he'd lost track of time after that
untiluntil the Minister had stopped by and actually given him a newspaper. After
that, his only thought had been to protect Harry from Peter.

Sirius paused for breath, realising belatedly that he'd continued talking out loud.
"Talking to yourself first sign of madness, isn't that what you always told me,
James." He said softly. He sighed and stared blankly at the ruined house. He could
feel the urge to leave nudging at him again; to get back on Buckbeak and head for
somewhere warm and sunny where he could recover from Azkaban. But that would mean
leaving Harry

"Harry's living with your sister, Lily," Sirius said, "I went to see him there when
I got out of prison." It had been the first thing he'd done he'd wanted to check
on his godson before heading North to wait for Peter at Hogwarts. Seeing Harry
running away had changed his plans. "He'she's not happy. I mean, he's brilliant,
James; really brilliant he saved my life! But he'she's too thin and small. He
wanted to come and live with me straight away! Who wants to live with someone they
don't know unless they hate where they are? I think your sister and her family
treat him badly, Lily. I need to get him away from them. Of course, I can't until
I'm cleared and no longer on the run, and that's not likely to happen any time
soon."

He got to his feet, crossed his arms over his chest and pushed the urge to leave
away again. He frowned, his brow lowering as he mulled over the issue.

"The problem is that, as much as I hate to admit it, I've been acting too much like
a Gryffindor." Sirius said with a huff of exasperation. "I went running off after
Peter when you died, and this year all I've done is try and get to Peter again even
if it was so he wouldn't hurt Harry. And I failed both times." He sighed heavily.
"If I want to protect to Harry properly, I need to start thinking and stop
reacting."

The niggle at the back of his mind to leave Britain, to leave Harry, shivered and
disappeared abruptly. He'd shaken off a compulsion spell, Sirius realised. Probably
Dumbledore. The old coot had no doubt thought compelling Sirius to get as far as
possible was for his own good so he wouldn't get caught by the Ministry. Or maybe
so that he wouldn't stay too close to Harry.

That thought arrested him for a long moment.

He shook himself as though he was Padfoot, trying to dislodge the idea. But he had
promised to start thinking and so he did, pacing back and forth to give into his
need for movement.

Why would Dumbledore want Sirius to stay away from Harry? OK, Sirius could
acknowledge that he needed to heal from the effects of Azkaban and that there could
be reasonable doubts about his ability to care for a young teen. But, Sirius was
Harry's godfather.

He could understand Dumbledore taking baby Harry with Lily's sister in the
immediate aftermath of James's and Lily's death had even reluctantly agreed with
the plan by handing over Harry to Hagrid in fact. Very few people had known where
Lily's sister resided in the muggle world and Sirius knew Lily had placed wards
around the place. He could also understand why Dumbledore had left him there once
Sirius was imprisoned and Harry's godmother, Alice Longbottom, had been attacked.
There was an automatic belief that blood relations were best and maybe Dumbledore
had assumed that Petunia was the named guardian for Harry Sirius couldn't
remember if Dumbledore had ever seen the Potters' will. Dumbledore probably had
little knowledge of how much Petunia disliked magic, and even if he had, he'd
possibly made the assumption that Petunia would care for Harry regardless because
he was family. Still, Sirius mused thoughtfully, it didn't excuse Dumbledore for
seemingly missing all the signs of an abused child when Harry had gotten to
Hogwarts or, worse, disregarding them and leaving Harry with the Dursleys anyway.

He stopped pacing. Why would Dumbledore have disregarded signs of abuse? No. Sirius
couldn't believe that. He could believe that abuse had been missed hadn't his own
abuse at the hands of his dear mother been overlooked until he'd run away from
home? But he couldn't quite dismiss his underlying notion that Dumbledore wanted
distance between Sirius and his godson. Possibly Dumbledore thought Harry's muggle
relatives provided a safer environment than Sirius and OK, it wasn't as though
Sirius could provide a home while he was on the run.

Or Dumbledore might just not trust Sirius.

Which sounded more likely because Dumbledore had always had trouble seeing beyond
the Black name Sirius carried.

Wasn't that why he hadn't even rated a visit from the leader of the Order of the
Phoenix after being imprisoned? Everybody got a second chance with Dumbledore
except for Sirius it seemed. Sirius wondered if Dumbledore would have stood by and
let him be kissed. Certainly it seemed like the kids had gained some kind of
approval from the Headmaster to save him butbut just why was it that the kids had
needed to save him? Why couldn't Dumbledore guarantee him a fair trial? Wasn't he
the Chief Warlock? Sirius was aware that the old wizard didn't like to wield the
power the wizarding world had given him too often but he had power.

Power was something that the House of Potter and the House of Black had once
enjoyed; magical power aplenty certainly, but both families had also built
financial and political alliances. And it was that kind of power that Sirius truly
needed if he was going to protect Harry; from the Death Eaters, from Peter, from
the possibility of Voldemort rising again. It was that kind of power which would
get Sirius what he wanted from the Ministry, namely his name cleared and
guardianship of Harry so he could ensure his godson had everything he needed
love, happiness, fun, security.

And he evidently needed that same power to ensure that Albus Dumbledore couldn't
stop Sirius from being with Harry, if that was Dumbledore's plan.

Sirius looked up at the night sky and shook his head in denial of where his
thoughts were leading him.

A rush of wind touched him and he breathed in the scent of lilies. At least he knew
he had her approval. "You always said that you would do anything to keep Harry
safe, Lily-flower. I always said I would do the same but I didn't get it until now
that anything means anything."

Another breeze brushed over him. It felt comforting and familiar; affection, safety
and family all tangled together in a way that spoke of love.

Sirius closed his eyes again, grief rocking through him. James. He gave a short,
humourless laugh. "You shouldn't approve too soon, James, because you're not going
to like my plan. Merlin knows I don't like my plan."

But if it was power Sirius neededhe looked back at the house and whistled for
Buckbeak. It was time to retreat to the one place Sirius had never called home.