Lord Potter-Black

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I will say this once and once alone. I wish I owned Harry Potter, but alas, I don't. If I did I would not have written that epilogue!

Harry let out a deep sigh. He wondered why he was still alive. It seemed cruel in a way that he was famous for living when he just wanted to be dead. His parents were dead. Sirius was dead. Everyone he cared about was dead, because of him. He was a freak. He had thought 'Freak' had been his name until he'd started muggle primary school. He was the reason why everyone he cared about was suffering. Hermione had almost been killed. Neville's wand had been broken, one of the only connections he'd had to his father, broken because of him. Ginny's ankle had been broken. He'd put all of them in danger. Because Harry James Potter was an idiot. If he hadn't have gone to the Department of Mysteries on the 18th of June, Sirius would still be alive. Hermione wouldn't be scarred. Neville would still have his father's wand. He should just do the world a favour and die like his godfather. He snorted. He shouldn't have been a Gryffindor. He was a coward. He was too scared to end things. He wasn't strong enough to end his pain. He was weak. He deserved to be miserable. Looking out of his barred window at Number Four Privet Drive, one last time for the night, Harry wiped away the lone tear that had rolled down his cheek before retiring from the world for the night.


He woke early the next morning and slumped down the stairs. It was Monday. That meant that his family would want eggs and bacon for breakfast. Over the course of his childhood, he'd become quite good at cooking. It was a natural talent. He was also quite adept at cleaning. 'I feel like Dobby,' he thought as he flipped the bacon over to cook both sides properly as the eggs were cooking in the other frying pan. The smell of the eggs and bacon wafted up the stairs, rousing the Dursley's from their sleep. They floated down the stairs in the direction of the scent and were soon seated at the table - complaining about how long it was taking. Harry hastily dished the eggs and bacon up onto their plates, before putting the pans in the sink to soak. He then went upstairs to make their beds. It was his daily routine. By the time their beds were made, they should be finished eating, meaning it was time for him to wash up. Then he would serve tea to his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon as she peered out the window and he read the daily paper they got delivered. Harry would then collect all the mail and give it to the appropriate person. On Mondays, he would spend the day mowing the front garden along with weeding it and watering it. If he finished that before one in the afternoon, he was allowed to go to the park at the end of the road, as long as he was back before five. At five he was expected to start cooking the Dursley's dinner. Today he was cooking them Shepard's Pie, but without all the added vegetables. Essentially, it was just mince and mash potatoes. The Dursley's were too fussy to eat anything else.

He was contemplating how much his life resembled Dobby's as he collected the post. There was a postcard from Aunt Marge addressed to Vernon. There were a few catalogues for Petunia, along with a few letters. There was a package for Dudley (it was probably new dirty magazines the boy hid under his bed). The most surprising thing he found though, was a letter for him. It seemed to have been sent the muggle way, which he was grateful for. The Dursley's always 'punished' him when he received mail the magical way. Not that he would tell Ron or Hermione that. He didn't know anyone in the muggle world though that would write to him. Until he turned the envelope over to open it, revealing the Gringotts crest on the wax seal that kept it shut.

Dear Mr Potter, it read.

We at Gringotts are saddened to hear the news that Mr (Sirius) Black has passed on. It is because of this we are writing to you, Mr Black has named you as a benefactor in his will. We cannot disclose what you may inherit in this letter, but we can inform you that the will reading will take place on the 31st of July 1996 at one in the afternoon. That was tomorrow.

We offer you our sincerest condolences.

Yours Sincerely,

Grapnor

Black Account Manager

How was he going to get to Gringotts? Perhaps, no it was impossible. Perhaps Vernon would take him. It wouldn't hurt to ask. The thought had barely crossed his mind before Dudley snatched the letter out of his hands. "Dad!" he shouted running into the living room, "Dad! Harry's got a letter!" handing the letter to his father.

Vernon choked back a laugh, "A letter? Who'd be writing to you?"

Harry winced. It was exactly what he had said when Harry had received his first Hogwarts letter. "Its from my bank," Harry explained. "My godfather died recently. He was murdered." His voice was emotionless.

"Bank?" Vernon laughed. "You have no money!"

"I have what my parents left me," he said before he could stop himself. He saw money signs practically fly out of his Uncle's eyes. "It's not much though," he lied. "Just enough to have an account."

Petunia scoffed. "Please Harry! Your father's family was rich! Even I knew that much."

'Shit,' he thought. "They left most of it to charity I guess. All I have is a few silver coins on the floor of my Gringotts vault. Sickles aren't worth much," the lies kept getting bigger. He didn't want them to take away the money he did have, which was actually stacks and stacks of galleons - there must have been about £30,000 in galleons in his vault. He was saving that in case he needed to flee one day. "You can have all the sickles I have though if you take me to London tomorrow," He bargained. "I will even see if I can stay at a friend's house for the rest of the summer. You won't have to see me until next year."

Vernon nodded. "That seems acceptable to me. Although, I wouldn't care if you were living on the street, as long as you're out of my house for another year. Now get started on the garden."

Harry did as he was asked. He didn't want Vernon to change his mind.


"Harry?" a feminine voice asked. "What are you doing here?"

He turned around to face his best friend. "The will reading."

"Of course! How stupid of me," the witch said, slapping her forehead.

He wrapped the witch in his arms in a hug, needing the support. "Stupid is the last word anyone would use to describe Hermione Granger."

She drew away from him, looking him dead in the eye. "How are you Harry? None of the I'm fine crap, tell me how you are really feeling."

"Dead. I feel dead. I feel numb," he ran a hand through his already messy hair. "I feel like I shouldn't be here. His death was all my fault."

He saw a hint of anger grow in her eyes. "Harry James Potter! Do not, for even a moment, think it is your fault! You loved Sirius. You went there to protect him! You knew what you were getting into. You knew there were going to be Death Eaters there because of your vision. Just like how Sirius loved you and went there to protect you!"

This was exactly what Harry had needed to hear. He pulled his friend into another hug. "Thank you," he whispered into her bushy hair. "Thank you." Tears were freely falling down his face now. She rubbed his back soothingly. "It's alright Harry. I'm here for you."

They remained like that for a few minutes as Harry tried to compose himself. Hermione never stopped rubbing his back. "The reading will begin shortly. If you two would like to wait inside," a goblin, who Harry assumed was Grapnor, instructed them gently. Gently, the thought almost made Harry want to laugh. Goblins were anything but gentle.


I, Sirius Orion Black, of sound body and mind, hereby declare this to be my last will and testament.

Firstly, to my cousin Narcissa Malfoy, I offer you the protection of the Black Family. That goes for you and your son, Draco Malfoy. If you wish to accept this protection please speak to the new Lord Black regarding the dissolution of your marriage.

Secondly, to Luna Lovegood, I offer you 20,000 galleons. Use it for whatever you wish, this is a thank you for being a true and loyal friend to my Godson. I know how hard things have been for you - but trust Harry and Hermione, they will never hurt you.

Thirdly, to Remus Lupin, my brother in every way but blood. I bequeath to you 50,000 galleons and the ownership of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Please cleanse the house of it's darkness and history. Raise little Remus' there and give the walls some good memories.

To Neville Longbottom, I leave you any and all pictures I own containing one or both of your parents, a pensive containing my memories of your parents and the key to your father's locker. I was your father's partner when we were both aurors together. He was a great man, you remind me of him. Your bravery is astounding.

To Hermione Granger, I leave you all books in the Black Family Library. I know they will not go to waste. I also leave you a selection of jewellery, and advice. Do not let him slip through your fingers, you'll regret it one day if you do.

To Fred and George Weasley, I leave the both of you all my pranking equipment as well as the book containing prank ideas.

Lastly to my Godson, Harry James Potter. I leave you everything else, the other Black Family properties and the Lordship of the house of Black. If you accept these things you will become legally emancipated, an adult. This would give you access to the Black Family Vaults - combined with the Potter Family Vaults, you would be the richest person in the wizarding world. These two things combined means no more Dursley's... ever.


"I told you Sirius loved you," Hermione said to the boy she was next to, squeezing his hand gently.

"I am the reason for his death, I practically condemned him, yet he is saving me from being a house elf." Harry was staring at the wall behind the goblin in shock.

"You were the closest thing he had to a son, Harry. I'm honestly surprised you didn't see this coming," Hermione noted. "You feel guilty don't you?"

Harry nodded. "I killed him Hermione. I killed him."

"No Harry you didn't," a different person voiced. "My sister killed him. Not you. Bellatrix."

"Mrs Malfoy-" Harry began.

"No Harry. Bellatrix killed Sirius. You were his family. The only family he had other than Remus. You will do well to remember that," the older witch demanded.

"But -" Harry tried again.

"There is no use trying to argue with her Potter," Malfoy snarled. "It's hopeless."

There was silence throughout the room until Luna broke it. "It is strange that Sirius didn't leave anything to Ronald and Ginny," she said in her airy tone.

Harry hadn't noticed it before, but now that he did, he couldn't help but think it was very strange.


A/N: So, here is the first part of my new Harry/Hermione story - I have a vague idea of where I want this story to go. So in this part all that really happened was Sirius' will being read. In the next part we should see things start to happen... Thank you for reading!