Chapter - 13 : Trust and Truth

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"Look, I'm telling you the truth, I swear," Harry insisted. "I wouldn't lie to you. In my world you were the only adult I ever truly trusted, even though I only knew you for a few short years. You broke out of Azkaban to protect me when I was thirteen years old but you never managed to prove your innocence and were killed just two years later. I... well, I want to change all that. You're not my Sirius, but you deserve to be free and happy, and with my knowledge from my old world I know how to make that happen."

Sirius still looked deeply sceptical, an expression which didn't change as Harry continued trying to convince him. Harry tried relating everything he knew about his godfather, but no matter what he said, Sirius didn't seem willing to believe the admittedly outlandish story. Mere words weren't going to be enough, Harry realised.

Suddenly Harry sat up straight and snapped his fingers excitedly. "Oh, there's my Patronus!" He hurriedly drew his wand again, focusing on how happy he was sitting here next to a Sirius who was alive and free. "Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, pouring his magic into the spell and hoping desperately that his erratic control would be enough.

It took longer than normal for the silver light to coalesce into a solid shape, but in the end the glowing form of Harry's stag Patronus pranced proudly around the hospital room.

"Prongs…" Sirius whispered, staring at the echo of his best friend.

Harry took several big gulps of air, breathless from casting such demanding magic.

"Remus... Remus taught me that spell in my third year. I didn't even know about the Marauders or anything back then, but my Patronus still took the form of a stag."

"It's incredible," Sirius said hoarsely, still staring. Slowly the Patronus faded away, Harry's magic unable to sustain it any longer. Sirius turned back to look at Harry, seeming to have come to a decision. "I'm not sure if Azkaban managed to drive me insane or what, but I - I think I might believe you. I need to be sure though. I need to know you're telling the truth."

"Well, I suppose there's always Veritaserum," Harry said doubtfully. "I don't know how we'll get our hands on it though, since it's restricted."

"No, not Veritaserum," Sirius said. "Legilimency."

"You want to see my memories?"

"Yes. There's no way anyone could fake memories of an entire life."

Harry hesitated for a moment; memories were such personal things that the idea of sharing them with a stranger felt wrong. But Sirius wasn't a stranger, at least not really, so in the end Harry agreed, even lending Sirius his wand in order to cast the spell. "All right. Go ahead," he said, taking a deep breath to prepare himself.

Sirius met his gaze and raised the birch wand. "Legilimens!"

Compared to when Snape or Voldemort had invaded his mind, it hurt less but lasted a lot longer. Harry could sense Sirius inside his head, moving from one memory to the next, and had to suppress the instinct to use Occlumency to force him out. Instead he concentrated on the first time he had met his godfather, remembering his fear, anger and hope during the confrontation in the Shrieking Shack. That memory lead to a cascade of others - the dementors, the Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort's return, the Deatheaters, and finally the disastrous fight in the Department of Mysteries.

Sirius abruptly ended the spell, leaving them both shaken. "I believe you," he gasped out. "I saw it, I saw myself, I saw Voldemort. He really returned?"

"Yes, and the same thing could happen here," Harry said grimly. In short, sharp sentences he told Sirius about the years following Voldemort's death, not sugar-coating the terrible truth that the Death Eaters had won the war. Sirius listened grimly but didn't look terribly surprised. Harry supposed if anyone knew the corruption of the Ministry and the power of the pureblood ideology, it would be Sirius.

When Harry finally finished speaking, Sirius reached out to touch him on the arm. "I'm sorry you had live through all that, Harry."

Harry shrugged, not wanting to dwell on the horror of those last years. "Yeah well, I hope to stop it all from happening here. But you do believe me, right - you believe I'm Harry Potter?"

"Well, I suppose I do," Sirius said, examining Harry from head to toe. "Though I have to say I thought you'd look a bit different. My godson had green eyes."

Harry had completely forgotten about his changed appearance and quickly explained how he was using glamours. "I can't afford to be recognised - I hated being the boy-who-lived in my old world and there's no bloody way I'm going through all that again."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at that. "So I suppose that's why you're pretending to be my illegitimate son?"

"Ah, yes, about that…" Harry shifted awkwardly in his seat. "I'm really sorry about the whole thing, but well, would you mind terribly if..."

If you kept up the whole charade?" Sirius finished his sentence for him.

"Yes," Harry admitted. "You see, I know I can take care of myself, but the Ministry won't see it that way."

He quickly explained the back-story he had invented for himself involving Evelinda Aubrey. Sirius confirmed that he had known her ("Let's just say I wasn't too surprised to hear she was the mother of my child") and overall thought the plan should work, although wondered if the surviving members of the Aubrey family would kick up a fuss.

Harry just shrugged in response. He hadn't been able to find out much about the Aubrey family; there might be a few old relatives floating about and Bertram Aubrey was apparently still alive, but none of them seemed to appear much in public. Whatever the case, Evelinda had been disowned so it was unlikely that any of the Aubreys would care about her supposed son.

"I've got say, so far no one's questioned my being your bastard son from one of your many illicit affairs," Harry said with a sly smile.

"Ha!" Sirius barked out, laughter lighting up his face. It was startling how much younger he looked when he smiled. "I suppose I had a bit of a reputation back in the day."

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