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 but…but 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 needed…he looked back at the house and whistled for Buckbeak. It was time to retreat to the one place Sirius had never called home.
They landed in the back garden of 12 Grimmauld Place. Everything was overgrown and unkempt; a wild tangle of tall grass, weeds and flowers that had escaped their beds and meandered all over the once pristine lawn. The old trees that bordered the property created dark imposing shapes in the night. The protective statues were pale lumps of marble. They didn't wake with his arrival and Sirius breathed out in relief.
The house was under a Death Fidelius. He'd known that being a Black was enough to see the house but he'd been unsure that the actual wards around the property would accept him. He had been an outcast because of his allegiance to the Light – to the Potters – and had been worried that there might have been something to keep him out specifically.
He threw a look at the neighbouring houses. He knew the spells disguising the garden and house would mean muggles and other wizards would skip over Number 12 and see the next house along. "You can stay in the garden, Buckbeak, or go on your way." He said fondly. "You've saved my life and I thank you."
Buckbeak bowed low and Sirius did the same. The hippogriff turned and launched itself back into the air; a couple of sweeps of its powerful wings later and it was out of sight.
"Safe travels, my friend." Sirius murmured in the darkness. He made his way to the house, taking the side path to the steps down to the back door that led into the basement, the old merchant's entrance.