This is my very first Harry Potter fanfic, so I'm pretty nervous. I've always loved the idea of Sirius and Remus raising a little Harry, so here goes!
Warnings: Slash, Child Abuse
Pairings: Sirius/Remus
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Harry James Potter was eight years old when the strange men came for him.
He was in his cupboard when the doorbell rang. He gave a little start, blinking his scratchy eyes open. It had been a very long day, and he was quite tired; Aunt Petunia had woken him very early in the morning so that he could begin cleaning the house. That had taken most of the day, and then he'd had to cook dinner for the Dursleys. He'd been sent out to weed the garden while they ate, and then he was escorted back to his cupboard with a piece of buttered toast. It was the only thing he'd eaten all day.
Harry tensed as he heard his uncle's heavy footsteps pass his cupboard. Sometimes, if he wasn't very careful while he was cleaning, or if he wasn't being quiet enough in his cupboard, Uncle Vernon would smack him. He was probably safe right now, though, he thought, relaxing. Uncle Vernon didn't like for his guests to know about Harry.
He heard the front door swing open, and then there was a moment of complete silence. Harry's eyes began to drift shut again; he tugged his blanket higher about his shoulders.
The silence was broken by angry voices. Harry flinched. He probably could have heard what they were saying if he concentrated, but he was so tired.
All of a sudden, the door slammed shut, and Uncle Vernon was bellowing. "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I PHONE THE POLICE!"
Harry jolted upright, fully awake now. His heart was pounding against his ribs. The only time his uncle used that voice was when he was mad at Harry. There was another angry murmur, a stranger's voice, what sounded like a threat. All Harry could hear now was his uncle's harsh breathing.
Suddenly, the locks on his cupboard were being undone, and Uncle Vernon was looming in the doorway. Harry cringed away as his uncle's meaty hand closed around his upper arm, squeezing harshly against old bruises. He was dragged out of his cupboard and thrown against something that was hard and soft all at once. Glancing up, he found himself face-to-face with the scariest-looking man he'd ever seen.
"Well, if you want him that badly, you can have him," Uncle Vernon snarled.
That...was not my best writing. Oh well. Review?