Just a little one-shot based on my idea of Harry being named after Sirius in some way.

And I'll probably end up rewriting my one story Sirius as I don't exactly like where that one is heading… Any suggestions would be welcome.

But this is just an amusing idea that I had. Nothing big.

And, just in case I need to, although I really hope that I don't have to:

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

"It's because Harry always seems to find trouble."

"No," Harry piped up with an outraged sniff, "trouble always seems to find me."

"Sure," Hermione told him with a roll of her eyes, she patted his shoulder over-indulgently, "Whatever you say Harry."

"What if I told you that Trouble is my middle name?"

"I'd say that you're an idiot."

"One can have multiple middle names."

The bushy haired girl looked up toward the sky. Why did she put up with this when she should be studying for exam…? "I'm sure, than what should I call you? Harry Trouble James Potter or Harry James Trouble Potter? I need to know for when I need to call you the full three."

"Err…" Harry twisted sheepishly, pulling at his robes as he grinned at the girl. "Well, actually–"

"Oh dear God, what now?"

"My middle name isn't James."

A sudden silence descended across their corner of the common room. Ron and Dean looked up from their game of chess, Hermione stared at him from behind her pile of books, and Fred and George glanced over from their scheming. "What do you mean?" Ron asked, maneuvering in his seat as he turned to the boy. "Every book, and every one, always said that your name is Harry James Potter."

"Well, yeah," Harry rubbed the back of his neck as a few other Gryffindor's began to pay attention to their conversation. "My dad didn't want to get in trouble with my mum, so he lied."

"Your dad, lied?" Angelina Johnson asked, "On a birth certificate?"

"Err… well, no." He twisted uncomfortably. "He lied to the world – birth certificates are private. They're not open to the public, so people just had to assume that whatever my mum and dad said was right…"

"So… How do you know all this?"

Harry scoffed at Dean's question. "My aunt told me," He said, "she told me that it was the stupidest thing that anyone had ever done. And she only knew because the goblins told her, who were told by my dad."

… A small silence engulfed them as people tried to digest that statement. Harry wondered what they would say to the – "Harry?" Hermione broke it. "What's your name then?"

"Well," He brought himself to his full height (which wasn't that tall…) as he realized that practically all of the Common Room was listening to them. "My full name is," the thirteen year old gulped, "Harry Sirius Potter-Black."

The quiet was suddenly oppressive.

"As in," Fred put in with a small quiver, "Sirius Black?"

Ah, the escaped convict. That Harry (The-Boy-Who-Lived) just so happened to be named after. The boy who defeated Voldemort was named after his number one man. How ironic.

"Yeah," He pulled at his hair, "Aunt Petunia told me that my dad was writing down my name – Harry James Potter – but he'd only gotten Harry down before Sirius Black stole the quill he was using and wrote Sirius after it, then my dad got into a scuffle and wrote down Potter before Sirius managed to add the Black to it. My mother was asleep during the entire thing. So they lied. The goblins said that they thought it was great fun."

No one had anything to say to that statement. Ron stood there, his mouth hanging open (although he wasn't the only one, Hermione's kept opening and closing as if she couldn't find the words to say) and Fred and George merely stared at Harry with identical (shocked) expressions, Dean seemed close to laughing, Seamus was staring at him in horror, and Angelina… well he was pretty sure that all their Chasers felt that he was making a joke.

That's great. He probably shouldn't have said anything.

"And…" Oliver Wood cleared his throat, "Well, I don't see why we're all sitting around here – it doesn't hurt our team, so we shouldn't think too much of it–"

"Wait a minute," Katie Bell held up a hand, "wait just one minute – how did your dad and Sirius Black know each other?"

"Apparently they were best friends; at least, that's what the goblins told me. Sirius Black's my godfather. He left me heir to his estate. That's why Black is apart of my last name."

"But," Hermione approached her subject cautiously, "wouldn't the sorting hat have known…"

"Oh, it did, but McGonagall will only call out the names that the person answers to, and I never answer to Harry Sirius Potter-Black, only Harry Potter, since it's easier that way. And every just assumed that James is my middle name, so…" He shrugged, taking a seat across from Hermione.

Hermione obviously didn't want to leave well enough alone, "And why did your aunt tell you this? I thought she hated magic?"

"Oh, she does," He nodded knowledgably, "but she said that if my godfather ever gets out of prison then I was to go and live with him, no ifs ands or buts."

"… Does she expect you to live with him now?" Angelina asked wearily.

"Probably." Harry shrugged. It wasn't as if he knew, although he'd find out in due time, like when he arrived at Kings Cross and his Aunt and Uncle weren't there. Maybe he should try to find out where his godfather was… Maybe he'd find Harry first, everyone did seem to think that he was after his godson… "I expect that I'll find out soon enough."

Hey, maybe living with some deranged mass-murdering godfather that supposedly wanted him dead would be better than living with his mother's sister. For all Harry knew, Sirius Black could've sent him the Firebolt… Now that'd be interesting…