Disclaimer: Harry Potter's world isn't mine.

His uncle's open hand cracked against his face, the sound echoing through the kitchen. It hurt. Cheek aching, he blinked back tears, bowed his head and tried to keep all mutinous thoughts from appearing in his expression.

"I told you to have breakfast ready by 6:00 A.M., not 6:03 A.M."

Harry nodded and said, "I'm sorry Sir."

"Worthless boy," Vernon muttered and sat down to eat a mound of bacon and eggs. "If I'm late to work because of you, I'll take it out of your hide tonight."

Harry had not doubt his 'uncle' would do just that as he nodded again and said, "Yes, Sir."

Turning to the grease spattered stove, he grabbed the frying pan and poured the grease into a jar. Holding in a smirk, he put the grease inside the fridge. Vernon loved everything he ate to be fried in bacon grease. Harry, hoping the fat fuck would die of a bacon grease induced heart attack, indulged his uncle's preference every chance he got. Dumping the dirty pan a sink of soapy water, he began his morning ritual of scrubbing pans and wiping down counters. It was useless wiping down the stove, he had to fry another pound of bacon for Dudley in an hour.

Ever since he was introduced to the Wizarding World his life had taken on a disturbing pattern: winter terror at Hogwarts with a side of summer servitude and violence at the Dursley's. What a wonderful life he lived. And, according to Sirius' letters, he had to thank Dumbledore for his particular lot in life. He's the one who didn't give Sirius a trial in the past and currently wasn't advocating for a trial now. This led to Harry's current situation at his so-called-family's house.

Gritting his teeth, Harry tried to calm the anger that boiled under his skin. It wouldn't due to have a bout of accidental magic…it would only lead to more beatings.

###

"Professor Dumbledore wants to cast the Fidelius Charm tomorrow."

"I can cast it myself, Remus," Sirius replied dully. He watched his old 'friend' from the corner of his eye…Remus was unaware of the muggle sleeping pills he'd ground up and put in the whiskey. Sirius was pretty sure the whole bottle wouldn't kill him when diluted by a liter of cheap whiskey, but he hadn't really tested it before trying it. Here's to hoping werewolf stamina would kick-in. If not, Remus would be on to the 'next great adventure'.

Remus snorted blearily and downed another shot of firewhiskey. "Yeah. And be your own secret keeper. What if something happened to you here? No one would be able to find you. Think of what that'd do to Harry."

Grey eyes flashed as he gritted his teeth. Sirius could not believe his friend was lowering himself to guilting him about Harry. Remus never bothered with James' son before—and Sirius was sure he didn't give a flying fuck about Harry now. The only person Remus cared about was Dumbledore. Hell. He wouldn't be surprised to find out Remus was blowing the old codger under the headmaster's desk. Anything to repay the old goat-fucker for letting Remus into Hogwarts.

Like his mood, dark and dreary, the shadows seemed to seep forward from behind them. Sirius watched Remus shiver. It was impossible for a non-Black to be completely safe in the Black Family Home, and he was sure his 'friend' could feel the wards tasting him, testing him and finding him wanting. Trying to hide his smirk, he watched as Remus did another shot.

Sirius lifted his drink but, shot midway to his mouth, he paused. He scrutinized Remus as the man slumped forward, head thumping hard on the table as the werewolf passed out. Looked like the sleeping pills finally worked. Slowly, he put his shot down and smiled. Dumbledore had Sirius watched every minute of every day. It was either Remus or Tonks babysitting him to make sure he didn't do something that'd go against Dumble's plan…you know…for the 'greater good'.

Fuck the greater good and fuck Dumbledore.

"Harry is living with your sister, Lily. That bitch and her lard-ass husband are abusing him as I speak. I'm going to save him. I'm going to be the godfather you and James need me to be," Sirius said to empty air. He knew they'd approve of what he was about to do. Sirius had a plan. An Epic Plan. A plan to end all plans! And it all started tonight.

"Kreacher!"

A soft pop and his house elf stood before him.

"Is the ritual room ready?"

"Yes, master."

"Excellent. I'm going to raze the order to the ground, Kreacher. I'm going to bring glory to the Houses of Potter and Black. It's going to be bloody fantastic."

If Sirius had a mirror, he would have seen a silvery glow around his gray eyes. The fanatic gleam would have reminded him of his mother at her craziest and he might have taken a moment to rethink his Epic Plan. Lucky for the world, Sirius had no mirror.

Kreacher nodded, inspired to obey his Lord's order by Sirius' sudden resemblance to Mistress Walberga. "As Master requires."