Summary: Welcome to the life of Fiona Black. Hardly normal on a good day, but now that her father has escaped Azkaban, she has begun to wonder if her life will ever return to normal. What secrets will she discover? And will she be able to keep her own secrets hidden? This story is slightly AU, with my OC, lots of Ginny, a bit of Draco, lots of Remus, and of course, Padfoot.

Disclaimer: I own none of this. If I did, then I would be the one rollin' in the mad cash. Instead, the greatness that is Missus J.K. Rowling is. Oh well, onward towards this meager fan's fiction.

A/N: Years ago I write on this site, but again, that's been years. Any errors are completely mine, and I'd love it if you pointed them out!

Prologue

THE SUN HUNG bright, and promising in the sky on the afternoon of November 1st, 1989. Despite the fact that it was the middle of fall, the weather had chosen to be uncharacteristically warm and sunny - - not a single cloud hovered in the sky above London, making many people felt as though nothing, including the weather, could dampen the feeling of overjoyed relief that the wizarding world was feeling on this day. Voldemort had been defeated the previous night, by the unlikely candidate of a nineteen-month-old infant, Harry Potter. How could this be? No one was sure, although all of the wizards in London had their theories. Some said that Harry was predestined for greatness, given the Potter lineage. Others spoke of ancient magic, and Karma punishment having been in store for the dark wizard from the get-go. Hundreds of witches and wizards conspired their theories about what, exactly, had caused the wizard his demise - - but no one knew the truth. Despite the joyous celebrations happening this day, the fact remained that many lives had been destroyed on the night of October 31, 1989.

James and Lily Potter were dead, murdered by the dark lord who their son had destroyed by way of their sacrifice…not that anyone left alive was aware of this. Love carried its own magic, and Lily Potter had loved her son unyieldingly. She was the honest-to-Merlin reason why the wizarding world was no longer trapped under the dark lord's régime, although her sacrifice was unrealized by most. In addition, Molly Weasley had lost two of her most beloved brothers, Gideon and Fabian. Dozens of Voldemort's solders had cornered them, and - - recognizing the situation they were in - - chose to make their final stand without fear. Yes, the Prewett twins were dead, but so were almost a quarter of the dark lord's puppets. Of course, there were in no was the only lives touched by the hand of Fate on that fateful Halloween night. As in all wars, lives are lost.

A prime example of a life being lost, could be found in one, Sirius Black.

"He had always been a devoted friend, that Sirius Black. Who would have ever imagined! Selling out the Potter's like he had…James had been like a brother to him!"

Those words were said again, and again on that bright November day. Sirius Black - - the maniac! - - had been chased down by quite little Peter Pettigrew, who was grief stricken over the loss of James and Lily. Poor Peter never stood a chance against the experienced Arour, is what they all said after the fact. Sirius blew Peter up, along with thirteen innocent muggles, and an entire London block. When Ministry officials apprehended the - - obviously insane - - man, who had until that point, been the head of the Arour department at the ministry, all that they could find of poor little Peter was one single finger. How brutal, really.

Times were dark though, and although Voldemort had been confirmed as dead, Aurors were still scrambling to apprehend the remaining Death Eaters before they were given the chance to re-group their forces. Because of this panic, no trials were given to the accused 'dark wizards'. Rumor was twisted and tangled from person to person, and then handed to Ministry officials; who would then rubber stamp the rubbish and file it away under the false pretense of 'truth'. This was how the wizarding world came to fear Sirius Black, and believe his as being one of the most murderous wizard in all of London - - possible in the entire world. No one seemed to care that the Sirius that they had attended school with and worked alongside of would never - - could never - - betray tow of his best friends, as well as sentence his own godson to what should have been his own execution. Indeed, times were dark.

As Sirius Black spent those first early hours in Azkaban Prison, huddled against the cold, and the dementors that stood guard over him - - who promised unspeakable terrors in that strange, strangled speech of theirs - - he was unaware of many things. For example, the man did not know that his beloved godson was at that very moment being sent to live with Lily's horrible muggle sister and her hateful family. Of course, he would have assumed this, had it not been for the fact that not only did Harry Potter have a godfather, but a godmother as well. This brings us, to number two on the list of things that Sirius Black was unaware of, as he bathed himself in sorrow in the depths of Azkaban. Although young Harry had a godmother…as of 9:08AM on the aforementioned bright and sunny morning of November the first, he no longer has one. But Sirius had no way of knowing this, because he was also unaware of the fact that as of that same time, on that same day, he had become a father. Furthermore, the man did not know that while he was just beginning his life-long sentence at the prison, his unknown daughter had been born two and-a-half months premature, and that her mother - - the only woman that Sirius had ever honestly loved - - had bled out shortly after the complicated delivery.

Amelia Dawn Lupin was dead before her daughter had been fully cleaned of her own birth fluid. The too-small wriggling form seemed to be somewhat predestined for a terribly hard life, or at least that was the only clear thought currently going through her only surviving relative's head. Remus Lupin had never really considered himself to be the father type; he wasn't even sure that he should be allowed to try to be a father. But, as he sat there holding his tiny niece for the first time as nurses threw a sheet over his little sister's lifeless body, he realized that he was really the only person in the world that she had. As the nurse finished filling out the infant's chart, she asked Remus what the baby's name would be. Suddenly, he realized just how accurate his previous thoughts had been. Remus licked his paper-dry lips, and readjusted his niece's small form, so that she was now positioned upon his shoulder.

"Fiona," he said decisively. "Fiona Mae Black." The nurse looked at him sharply, and with a look of resigned horror growing on her face. "But sir - -" the nurse started, but Remus just solemnly shook his head at her. "It's the name that her mother would have wanted for her, recent events be damned." Even if Sirius had betrayed two of their dearest friends, he had not always been evil. Amelia had loved him, regardless of the things that had transpired between them. She would not hide who her daughter really was, so neither would her brother.

Remus patted the back of his softly snoring niece, as the still skeptical nurse walked out of the room, softly muttering about unfit parents. As the door shut behind her, Remus stood, gently swaying to sooth Fiona's slight fussing. Walking to the window, he looked down and towards the visible entrance of the Leakey Cauldron. People were rushing in and out of the entrance, and Remus was sure that so many witches and wizards had not been seen out strolling for at least the past year. Yes, the wizarding world had been saved, but at what price? Remus was alone once more - -

No, a voice inside his head reminded him. You have Fiona now, and just as you are all that she has. Remus smiled as the thought registered more solidly upon his mind, and he looked at the sleeping infant in his arms. "Sweet Pea, I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I think that you may well be stuck with me." The words were said softly into the girl's thick, already half wild hair. However, it didn't escape the man's notice that when he laid a gently kiss to her temple one miniscule fist was brought up to his own hair, and firmly tangled itself around one of his own stray locks of hair.

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER a haggard man sat, leaning against the bars of the cage that held him. A lonesome ray of light stretched through the only window that ornamented the prison cell, almost making the man smile at its welcome warmth. Sirius Black stretched his once-muscular arms, which had grown weak from lack of use, above his head. Yawning, he turned towards the bars at his back, and surveyed the cellblock in front of him. Prison cells stretched along the walls as far as he could see, each one more woe-be-gone than the last. His own cell, number 667, was located in the ward of Azkaban dedicated to the 'criminally insane'. This section of cells warranted the highest level of security, meaning that the majority of the dementors were stationed there. Yes, Sirius thought tiredly. 'Criminally insane' described his personality to a tee. And it certainly might, if he had indeed committed the crimes that he had been imprisoned for; and of course, if he did not have the ability to take on his other from: Padfoot. There was absolutely no doubt in Sirius's mind that if he were not an - - thankfully unregistered - - animagus, than his mind would have left him years ago.

Suddenly, Sirius was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of the cellblock's gates churning open, and footsteps approaching. He straightened, craning his neck to see which ministry official was paying Azkaban one of its seldom visits.

"Well minister," this was the unmistakable booming-voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt. "As you can see, the prisoners as all quite insane, so I really do not see any reason to upset them with your presence."

Once upon a lifetime ago, Kingsley had been Sirius's second-in-command in the Arour department. Now it seemed as though the man had been demoted a few times, seeing as he was the person in charge of regulating visitors in and out of the prison.

"Be that as it may Mr. Scattleblot - -"

"It is Shacklebolt, sir - -"

"Yes, yes, yes, of course. Nevertheless, I would still like to see for myself what state the inmates are in. It's kind of a part of standard procedure, as I am sure you know." This voice made a deep scowl set into Sirius's face; he had instantly recognized it as belonging to Cornelius Fudge, the so-called, Minister of Magic. Their footsteps finally reached the threshold of cell 666, which was located directly in front of Sirius's cell. The two officials stood there for a moment and discussed the current state of it's unfortunate evil soul, who was curled into the fetal position and humming what to Sirius's ears sounded like, Hells Bells. Odd. Sirius surveyed their backs for a moment, before his eyes landed on the newspaper curled in the minister's fist, and he chose to speak.

"Oi, minister, spare me that paper?" The two men started at the voice, and spun around quickly to find the origin of the voice. As Sirius's eyes locked into a gaze with the minister's, the man before him visibly paled and swallowed with a chocked sound.

"Sirius Black? Wha….?" Fudge seemed to have lost the ability to speak at the moment, so the other man elaborated on his request.

"The paper? In your hand? I haven't had anything good to read in ages, and one can only count the number of bricks in the wall for so long." Fudge glared a bit at his tone, and flexed the hand holding onto said paper, easing it out of the white-knuckled grip it had assumed. He pulled a face, somewhere between incredulousness and embarrassment, and held the paper out to the inmate.

"Yes, of course, of course. Enjoy it, there are a few interesting comics towards the back; I myself found them quite amusing…" His voice trailed off, and giving Sirius - - who was resisting the urge to roll his eyes - - a curt nod, he and the silent Kingsley left the cellblock, each walking at a slightly rushed pace.

Sirius readjusted his position against the wall, and with a small, bemused smile - - more of a smirk - - he unrolled the newspaper in his hands. He scanned the front page quickly, gathering that stocks were up, intelligence was down, and the Daily Prophet was indeed still printing the same garbage they had been thirteen years prior. His eyes then fell on a picture of a family that he had once been on fairly good terms with. It seemed as though the Weasley's were doing fairly well, judging by the article. Arthur had been promoted, and the family had won a free trip to Egypt. He scanned the moving picture trying to determine whether or not they had added any more children to their clan - - which they had - - and his heart nearly stopped beating. Here, the usually unaware Sirius Black became painfully aware of two epic facts. The first was that not only was Peter Pettigrew still alive - - and perhaps even kicking - - but the little rat-bastard was perched upon the shoulder of Arthur Weasley's youngest son! Although Peter was in his anamigus form, Sirius would still have recognized the treacherous little piece of filth anywhere. As his eyes continued to sweep across the article, he read off the names of the people shown in the picture. From left: Arthur Weasley 42, wife Molly 42, twin sons Fred and George 15, youngest son Ronald 13, daughter Ginny12, 'surrogate' daughter Fiona Black 12. Sirius held his breath. Fiona Black? Fiona Black. But there were no more Blacks! With Regulus dead and him imprisoned, there were no more Blacks to speak of. Unless…

Sirius examined the girl in the picture. She and the Weasley girl were standing slightly apart from the rest of the family, and they each had an arm slung across the other's shoulder. The Weasley girl - - Ginny? - - was laughing, and Fiona could be seen whispering something to her causing it. She herself wore a huge grin, and her eyes - - no, Sirius thought with a growing numbness, HIS eyes - -were dancing with mirth. Her hair was well past her shoulders, and it hung in wild chestnut waves. She was a bit taller than the other girl, but could not have possibly been above five feet and inch or two. She was slender, but she already had curves. She was wearing worn jeans with the knees blown out, and a black shirt with thin straps. Looking at her face, Sirius's head began to spin. Although he was looking at his eyes in this girl's face, he was also looking at the lips, cheekbones and nose of Amelia Lupin.

Sirius sat back heavily, and laid the newspaper aside for a moment. When he read the girl's name underneath the picture, Sirius allowed himself a bit of skepticism. But, after examining the picture and being met with his own eyes, and the face of the woman Sirius had loved so long ago…there was no doubt left in his mind. Sirius had a daughter, and her name was Fiona. He had to see her! He had to speak with her! What was she like? Did she hate him? Did she even know about him? As Sirius wondered about the enigma of his daughter, wheels began to turn in his head - - a plan had formed. He would escapee Azkaban, and he would find the damnable little rat. Then, his name would be cleared, and he would be free to know Fiona Black.

A/N: So there's the prologue. Chapter One will be up shortly. Also, please do review. I need to keep my lil' inspiration bunnies a-hoppin', and for that I require food-for-thought. Love it, hate it? Lemmie know! Just click that little button…coz you know you wanna…'click'….'click'…'click'…do it!