Hello there

Yes, new story! The plot bunny for this one came jumping on me quite suddenly after I had read fanfictions in other categories, too and it just stayed in my mind wanting to be written down.
For you who know my story "Somehing more": it is still going on, I'm waiting now for the document to come back after my old computer died... and I survived the shock of thinking I lost everything. What did I learn? Always make a copy of everything, always.

Disclaimer: All the characters, places and copyrighted things do not belong to me but to the awesome J.K. Rowling, only the plot is mine. (Although I'm not that sure I'm the first one writing something like this... what do you know in nearly 650'000 stories, I seriously didn't look them through...)

Then let's get this started, have fun!

SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPES AZKABAN!

Known mass murderer and loyal follower of you-know-who broke out of the seemingly inescapable prison of Azkaban...

The headlines of the wizarding newspapers were for the informed wizard shocking and made some lighter hearted individuals faint, but not so the wizard inhabiting 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

He had heard of the escaped convict in Muggle news and was not so concerned about an escapee with a gun. Of course Harry Potter did not know that said escapee was a wizard and had broken out of the most terrible and best guarded prison in the whole of wizarding Britain, if not the whole wizarding world. Of course he also did not know that Sirius Black, mass murderer and you-know-whose follower, was after him.

Harry Potter had different sorrows than the wizarding part of Britain had; he was more worried about supper this evening. His aunt (or rather Dudley's aunt) was coming over and he didn't particularly like this relative of his, and to top it off the feeling was mutual. After her bulldog Ripper had chased him onto a tree and wouldn't let him come down until told so by said aunt; he liked Aunt Marge even less.

So it was no wonder that he dreaded the coming evening. However, the allowance to go to Hogsmeade, a village near his school Hogwarts, depended on how well he behaved, meaning there should be no outburst of accidental magic. And this depended heavily on how Harry felt, with Aunt Marge in the house Harry was not so sure he could reign his feelings in enough to not accidentally do magic and thus lose every hope of going to the only one hundred percent wizarding village.

It came how it had to come. The evening was quite pleasant, because no one really minded Harry and only told him to do the dishes and bring out the food. He was used to do the chores and thought nothing of it. He was standing behind the counter when Aunt Marge started mouthing off.

"Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia, but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us."*

It was this comment that started a row of several unfortunate accidents. If Aunt Marge had left it as that and had not felt the need to push her luck further, for you can only call it this with a wizard in your vicinity, she might not have been blown up like a balloon. She didn't know of Harry's powers and even though she must have felt something she pushed it to her own power and so she ended up floating in 4 Privet Drive.

Harry knew he had just done something quite bad and might even be suspended from Hogwarts, however right then he felt very frustrated and just wanted his Aunt to shut up and never ever talk about his parents in such a way. After all they had made the greatest sacrifice one could do for another human being and here he was still living and fighting. He would not tolerate her talking badly about his parents and his magic reacted accordingly.

He left in a hurry. After he had seen what he did he ran up the stairs and down the corridor to his tiny room, threw his school stuff and some spare clothes into his trunk, took his wand and rand down the stairs to the foyer. Uncle Vernon stood there before him, face almost purple from anger and ready to explode; Harry thought he saw Dudley grinning behind Uncle Vernon. Then again Harry didn't have the nerve to deal with his fuming Uncle. He held his wand to said person's forehead.

"You aren't allowed to use that outside of school!" his uncle yelled, although Harry saw the fear behind the anger in Uncle Vernon's small eyes.

"I don't care right now. I can't stand it here for another moment, I'll leave" Harry said. He noticed he sounded more convinced and threatening than what he had aimed at, well, that was okay.

To that Uncle Vernon didn't say anything, just stood there like he had seen a ghost or walked right through one. This was Harry's cue to leave. He threw the door open and hoisted his trunk into the cool night and was off. He made a quite funny picture the way he was walking his anger out and dragging his big trunk and owl cage with him.

Suddenly it became clear to him that he didn't know where to go now. He had walked to Magnolia Crescent and only now he started to think about the consequence that leaving his relative's house meant. He had nowhere to go to and he had no money for a ready use, except for some Silver-Sickles and a few Knuts. Wizarding money wouldn't help him in the Muggle world at all, Harry thought as he dejectedly sat onto his trunk. He had been sitting there for some minutes, when he heard something across from him. There were some bushes, but behind or within them was something that made the leaves rustle.

It was a black, shaggy dog. It looked at him as if it would know him. Harry started to panic, he had never once in his life seen such a big dog and the way it looked reminded him of pictures of hungry wolves. The dog was seriously undernourished and made an overall sickly impression, but that didn't make it any less frightening. Then Harry heard the dog whine softly or at least he believed he had heard a whine. The dog was now slowly making its way to where Harry was sitting. The thought of jumping up and running crossed the young wizard's mind, but he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, so he just sat there and waited for the dog to come.

What struck Harry as even odder than the appearance of the dog, was the fact that the black mutt seemed to look before crossing the road. Slowly it traversed the street and came standing before Harry, its eyes seemed to be kind of happy. Harry felt somehow understood and involuntarily reached out to pet the dog. It whined softly and laid its head on Harry's knees.

"Now, what do I do? Can you tell me?" Harry asked and felt unbelievably stupid. Here he was, sitting on his trunk some hundred meters from his relative's house and talked to a stray dog. Some wizard he was.

However, the dog had understood and was now nudging his wand-hand.

"No, no, no. Don't do that, dog," Harry said and lifted his wand up higher so that the dog wouldn't reach it.

In that moment the dog yelped happily and there was a loud bang! and before him stood a three storey bus in a shade of purple that reminded Harry heavily of a very sappy sundown. Out of the bus came a very young man who had pimples all over his face and salad leaves for ears.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, Stan Shunpike my name and your conductor tonight. Where shall we bring you and your dog?" the man said in rapid succession so that Harry had trouble following after the surprising appearance of the bus. "What is your name?"

Here Harry was fast, he knew he couldn't give his real name. "Neville Longbottom" he said. It was the first name that popped in his mind.

"Okay, Neville," Stan said and looked him over, straying to his forehead and Harry self-consciously brushed his bangs in front of his scar. Stan didn't seem to notice anything strange. Then he looked at Harry's stuff and lastly at the dog. "Does the dog come with you?"

Somehow it disturbed Harry when Stan said dog, it sounded derogatory and the dog had been nice to him. Without it Harry wouldn't have found the Knight Bus. Harry simply nodded, he had to think of a name for the dog if he was keeping him.

"Then get in, get in. We're leaving shortly," Stan ushered and as Harry wanted to lift his trunk Stan shoved him aside. "I'll do that, go in, get in."

The dog had already jumped into the bus and was now looking expectantly at Harry. The boy just rolled his eyes and also went in. He just had thought of a name for the dog. He had glimpsed at the night sky and seen one of the most prominent constellations even in the Muggle world.

"You take that bed there," Stan said suddenly from next to him. "Where you going, Neville?"

"The Leaky Cauldron, London," Harry answered. "Which bed?"

Stan told the driver something and now could answer the question: "The one down there on this floor, we don't want dog hair on the upper levels… that makes eleven Sickles for you, 'though if you want to have hot chocolate it's thirteen and for the dog…"

"It's Orion," Harry interrupted. "The dog's name is Orion."

Stan looked at him as if he was insane and then continued: "Well, six Sickles if he behaves and ten if he doesn't, sounds okay for you?"

It wasn't a question and Harry didn't understand it as such. He took his wallet out and counted some of the silver coins into Stan's hand and then trudged to the indicated bed. The dog was lying on the floor next to the bed and was watching Harry move.

"It's okay, right? Your name?" Harry asked and tried to tell what the dog was saying to him. The dog simply yapped once and wagged its tail, Harry understood it as 'it's okay'.

They had driven some way and let an elderly woman out of the bus, when Harry saw the newspaper in Stan's hands. On the first page was the picture of a man with a gaunt face and longish black hair; he had once been very handsome Harry could tell, but something had made him lose all that. Only his eyes didn't fit in the picture, they were much too clear and had some kind of purpose lighting them up. The headline was:

SIRIUS BLACK –STILL NOT FOUND!

The name rang a bell somewhere in Harry's mind. He remembered, it was in the news a few days ago. Some escaped convict with a gun… but that did not make sense. Why would the wizarding news bring something about a Muggle? What if he was a wizard, who was so dangerous even Muggles needed to take safety measures?

"That man on the newspaper… I saw him in the Muggle news," Harry began tentatively.

Immediately Stan leaped into action. After admonishing Harry about how little he knew of the wizarding world and its happenings, from Voldemort's fall –he had had quite the shock when Harry had spoken the name –until the day Sirius Black was arrested and put into Azkaban. Harry felt the mood sink when they spoke about the wizarding prison, it felt as if there was an unnamed terror lurking beneath the very existence of Azkaban. Even Orion made the impression of being haunted by some nasty memories.

All too soon they had reached the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the landlord stood outside, as if he was awaiting Harry's arrival. He took Harry's trunk and, after stopping a car alarm nearby, led Harry and Orion inside the dusty pub. It was eerily still compared to his last visit a year ago, there were only some already snoring people in. Tom waved him upstairs and Harry felt dread settle in his stomach; he was happy for Orion's company. The landlord stopped before a door that stood out from the others in the way it had carvings in it; the door seemed to be there only for important business. Harry gulped and hoped for the best, but was expecting the worst.

Tom opened the door, ushered Harry in and closed it again. The room was truly impressive, with its ornate walls and the actually well-preserved rug, the tall windows opposite the door and the massive chairs and the heavy desk. There, leaning on that dark desk, was Cornelius Fudge in his capacity as British Minister of Magic in person. The lime green bowler appeared worse for wear and the way in which Fudge looked at Harry made it even worse.

Orion next to him was growling lowly and moved so that he was in front of Harry. Harry briefly wondered what made the dog so protective of him, but then he saw Hedwig sitting on a post and couldn't suppress his joy. He reached over to her and she faithfully flew to him and nibbled his ear in a loving way. He had worried that Hedwig wouldn't find him after he left the Dursleys but seeing her now made all his worries unnecessary. He truly had an intelligent companion.

The minister cleared his throat and Harry immediately went back to his more panicky state. What if he was expelled and his wand snapped? What should he do then?

"It is nice to see you, Harry Potter, whole and healthy," Fudge said. "After your rather adventurous journey here it is good to see you in one piece…"

Had he expected Harry to die? "Mr Fudge… am I going to be expelled? I used magic in front of Muggles…" Harry asked quetly and tried to look as innocent as possible, first things first, he could always ask about the strange greeting later.

Fudge was surprised and Harry saw that. "No, of course not, that was accidental magic and can happen even to the best of us. On that note it may interest you that we successfully de-inflated your aunt and modified her memory so that she cannot recall your magical outburst."

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Orion before him also relaxed and stepped back beside him, but still looked at the minister as if he was only waiting to bite him. Harry petted the big dog's head and Orion settled on the floor. All the while Fudge had looked worried at Harry, the boy didn't know in what kind of predicament he was in and it was his duty as Minister of Magic to ensure the Boy-Who-Lived's safety.

"What am I going to do now?" Harry asked. He absolutely didn't want to go back to the Dursleys.

Fudge said: "You are allowed to stay here at the Leaky Cauldron until the new term starts, or you can go back to your relative's if you like. The only restriction that comes with staying here is that you are forbidden to go out at night without anyone with you. Daytime is no problem, but stay inside at night."

Harry felt compelled to nod his agreement, for once Cornelius Fudge really felt like the authority person his position required. The atmosphere in the room was immediately much more relaxed after Harry had agreed and only now he noticed the stiffness that had been in the posture of the minister. Fudge put his impossible bowler on his head and left the room with Harry and both animals in tow. Then he left Harry in Tom's care and departed for the ministry. Somehow Harry had missed the opportunity to ask why he shouldn't have arrived in one piece…

Tom showed Harry his room where all his stuff already was and asked if Harry wanted anything. Harry politely refused saying he would call if he needed anything and collapsed onto his bed, a disgruntled Hedwig flying onto the windowsill. Orion sat beside the bed and looked at Harry. He smiled and patted the dog's head and was rewarded a happy bark. From somewhere Harry could pull the energy to leave the bed once more and change his clothes and brush his teeth. As soon as his head touched the pillow Harry was asleep.

It was dark and cold, something crept underneath everything. It was nothing but a hunch, a vague feeling of dread and hopelessness. He soared over it, carried only by his will and the will of something dark. The dark didn't want him to drop and be swallowed by the creeping fears under him in the fleeting world. It was as if the dark would protect him from all harm the despair wanted him to feel. He felt the dark's soft clothing flutter around him.

He knew he was dreaming. The moment this sunk in there was a whisper around him. It came and went like wind and was like a sigh, only a breath in nothingness. The dark whispered to him. It was soothing and calmed his erratic mind. He had suddenly felt the endless depths under him, the ravenous blackness he felt pulsing. The dark was not the same as the void of blackness underneath.

He sighed and continued soaring the endless places he was in in his dreams. The dark accompanied him for the whole journey and held him up, it made him feel as if he was floating. It was a feeling of calmness and a strange sort of feeling to belong while he was carried by the dark.

It was cold. The dark was breathing coldness, helplessness. It made his skin crawl and his nerves flatter, there was a scream buried underneath the endless blackness. He didn't fall, but he was now only held by the dark; it prevented his falling into the depth of nothing but fear and despair. The dark held him and whispered soothing nothings in its cold voice. He didn't understand what was said, but he felt the pull of the nothingness that a dream's end brought. The dark steered into that direction and helped him find the calmness of a nothing.

It was neither black nor white; it was neither big nor small; it was full of colours and empty of all colour; it was full of noises and quieter than the early hours of a day; it was full of smells nice and disgusting and it had no smell at all. It was nothing. He was unaware of everything around him and slept dreamlessly.

The dark went back to its resting place in the blackest parts of his mind, even deeper down than the valley of hopelessness and dread. There was no need for it to come forth just yet, it had not been summoned yet. The dark could still sleep in its nest of ice and despair.

Its king would call him when the dark was needed. He would understand the murmuring coldness sooner or later. If the protection for the king's mind could do it, the protection would prevent the call from reaching the dark. The dark although knew better; its king had been and still was protected and had not felt the dark in his waking, but he would sense the dark and all its followers sooner rather than later. Soon the peace would be broken by the summoning and the king could finally wield all his terrible powers.

The king still slept dreamlessly.

*taken directly from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling

I hope you liked the story so far and will accompany me on the journey writing this story will be. :)
RedMamba