“Be on your best behavior Harry, this is Sirius, your godfather. He’s a very good wizard, and the best I can think of to teach you magical combat. His house is very big, so don’t go wandering around or causing trouble, okay?” Lily asked.

“Okay, I won’t.” Harry promised, staring at the house, if it could be called that. 12 Grimmauld Place was a mansion in it’s own right, dwarfing the Potter’s home by several times. It looked imposing enough on the outside, and Harry could hardly wait to get in. Magnus’ stories of the house seemed spun from the threads of stories, and it didn’t disappoint. Already he could see the massive doors that led inside, almost as if daring them to enter.

“Sirius!” Lily called, knocking on the door. “Sirius?”

They waited, but no answer came. Lily sighed. “Kreacher?”

Harry’s eyes widened as the door opened and the head of an elf appeared. It looked wrong. Face human but not human, skin so wrinkled it seemed like paper. It was short, almost Harry’s height, and it’s arms were so stubby and small they reminded him of tree branches. He knew what they looked like, of course, but this was his first look.

“Mistress Potter?” Kreacher squeaked, his face brightening. “Oh, Mistress has finally visited Kreacher! Come in Mistress!”

Lily offered the elf a smile. “Hello Kreacher, it’s good to see you too. Do you know where Sirius is? I’m looking for him now.”

Kreacher flinched. “Mistress, would you like some soup? Show the young master to explore the old nursery? Kreacher can clean, Kreacher can help him.”

Lily’s lips compressed into a line. “Did something happen to Sirius?” She asked.

Kreacher lowered his head. “Master Sirius did not wish to be disturbed.” He said.

“Can you tell me where he is, Kreacher?” Lily asked.

Kreacher looked at the floor. “He is in his sleeping chamber, Mistress. Please, do not go. Master is unwell.” Kreacher froze, and began slapping himself, squealing, “Bad Kreacher, bad Kreacher, master said not to tell!” His blood began splattering on the steps on the stairs.

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“Stop!” Lily gasped, hurrying forward. “Ferula.” She said, pointing her wand at his face. The wounds mended.

“Thank you mistress, Kreacher will stop.” He said, his hand lowering.

“Don’t do that again.” She said, pointing her wand to the ground. “Scourify.” The blood vanished.

Lily felt Harry tug on her arm. “It’s fine, Harry. Sirius is just, not himself sometimes. Here, Kreacher can show you the nursery, go play there, okay? I’ll go talk with Sirius.” And find out what’s wrong with him, she added silently.

Kreacher almost jumped, running forward to grab Harry. “Yes, yes. Follow me young master. Kreacher will show you the nursery, all of the old master’s toys. Yes, Kreacher can show the young master what to play with.” Lily chuckled, handing her wand to Harry.

“Wait for me, okay? Mommy will see you soon.” She promised. Taking a breath, she walked into the Black family home.

It had been two years since she had last visited. She still remembered Sirius, smiling as they showed him Harry. He and James had looked almost older on that day, but she knew better. A front they showed her, if she were to guess, and they would be back in trouble the moment she turned around. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, they were still the same foolish boys she met at Hogwarts. A small smile crept to her lips.

They were inseparable, him and James. If he grew to be like that with Harry too. Lily shook her head. No, one young boy would be enough for her to deal with, she would not look after two, she would not! If only James was here. James would… Lily’s smile faded. How long was it since she last saw him? Two years? It seemed like two lifetimes. It was as if a part of her she had known since childhood had just disappeared, and not even a trace of it remained.

Sometimes she expected him to apparate right as she was playing with Harry, foolish grin on his face as always. He would explain that it was a long, elaborate joke, and he would laugh as Lily scolded his stupidity for the next year. But of course she knew that was impossible, he was dead. Killed by Voldemort’s hand, and if she wasn’t careful some death eater would find his son for revenge.

That was why she was here, she reminded herself. Harry needed a better teacher. She walked through the hall, ignoring the cries of mudblood and filth from the painting of Walburga Black that rained down on her head. She moved past the silken carpets and polished marble until she finally found an ornate door of oaken wood. Sirius’ room.

Inside, she could hear violent crashes, shattering of glass, and was that sobbing? A frown came onto Lily’s lips. She grabbed the doorknob and jerked, poking her head inside. A bottle struck her head, and she stumbled back, grasping her face as she heard him roar. “You're late! Stupid elf, I said two minutes!”

Lily stumbled inside, wishing she had bought her wand. “Sirius, it’s me.” She said, rubbing her swollen eye.

Her breath caught in her throat. “Sirius? Oh Sirius, what happened?”