Harry stared down at the crumpled letter in his hand. Sirius wasn't even cold yet and already the Lawyers and Goblin's of Gringotts were summoning him to the reading of the last will and testament of one Sirius Black.

"Dear Mr. Potter,

Our records indicate that last Blah, Blah, Blah Sirius died, come collect his stuff Blah, Blah, Blah. We request your presence on the 8th of July, 1997. We would be pleased to review the will and handle all the transferences and legal aspects of following out Mr. Black's last wishes. Blah, Blah, Blah. Please be present at our offices on the date indicated. Thank you for your consideration and please accept our condolences for your loss. Blah, Blah, Blah.

Sincerely,...

That is as far as he had gotten before crumpling the note. In hindsight maybe he should have read the whole thing first. He really shouldn't be surprised he thought blearily. They would have known the moment he died. I am surprised they waited a whole week to send it. Harry glanced at the calendar, he had been back at the Dursley's for about six days.

"Wow, they waited a whole ten days, Hedwig." Since his exile back into the Muggle world, Harry had taken to talking to Hedwig more and more. Even though she was an owl, he felt that she understood more than more people.

He didn't really want Sirius's gold or his house. He wanted Sirius back. It wouldn't have bothered him quite so badly if that had been the only correspondence he had waiting for him when he returned from school. Unfortunately, it wasn't. He also had a very wordy message from the new Minister of Magic wishing for him to become the poster boy of the new war against Voldemort, as well as a series of condolences and platitudes from his many friends, teachers, and babysitters.

If he could have found the energy he would have told them all to go to hell, but he couldn't. He barely had the energy to open the many letters. So far he had opened four, the main two from the Ministry and Gringotts, one from Dumbledore reminding him to stay at the Dursley's and a combined letter from his two best friends. They had recently decided to take their relationship a step further and are now officially together. They figured he would want to share in their new found happiness despite his recent tragedy.

The letter had definitely been written by Hermione. He felt sick and couldn't finish it. He had read about the stages of grief; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Acceptance. However, he was past Denial, Anger, and sadness. He had moved on to numb, whatever stage that was. He knew there were so many things he needed to do, so many people counting on him, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen one, Harry Potter.

There was only one problem, he didn't want to be Harry Potter. He wanted nothing to do with him or any of his responsibilities. Why should he have to fight Voldemort. Why should he be faced with the decision to kill or be killed. It wasn't fair, he knew life wasn't fair but this on top of everything else was the final straw. The carefully constructed mask he had work all his life was cracking under the pressure. Little fissures had been appearing since he learned he was a wizard. Cedric's death put the first large crack in it, and every hurtful insult and friend who turned on him had only made the gap wider. Sirius' death had split the mask in two, the prophecy caused spider web cracks. These letters were the final push.

His mask was completely useless. He had no time to rebuild it, everything was moving forward. It had taken years at the Dursley's to create it, the two months before school would not be sufficient to put it back.

'Oh look, another letter.'

The owl that landed in his window was almost as beautiful as his own. A regal looking eagle owl. It handed him the letter and settled in to await his reply. Harry didn't recognize the owl. It didn't have a seal like the owls from the Ministry and Gringotts. No one he knew had an eagle owl, except Malfoy, and this wasn't his owl.

Harry felt something he hadn't in a long time. Curiosity. His name was formally written on the front, in a handwriting also unfamiliar to him.

Dear Mister Harry James Potter,

I am currently a stranger, unknown to you. I would like to change that. My name is Rosaleen Hewlin. I am sure you don't recognize my name, and I can think of no reason why you should. However, my father was Declan Black. A name I am sure you do recognize as my nephew is your Godfather, the now late Sirius Black. I am sorry for your loss.

I had recently heard of both yourself and Mr. Black though a mutual acquaintance Mrs. Apolline Delacour, mother of Fleur Delacour. Whom is known quite well by yourself. I quickly fire-called my great-niece Andromeda, and she confirmed everything, as well as telling me that Dumbledore has sent you back to your relatives, something she considered unwise. She seems to have a low opinion of both Dumbledore and your relatives. I am not one of Dumbledore's people, but I do know a bit about what is going on in his circles.

I had written to Sirius several times since he broke out of Azkaban, but I never received a reply. My last letter returned unopened. I don't know if he didn't get the letters or wanted nothing to do with me but I do know that he named you his heir. I failed Sirius when I didn't help him when he was disowned, or thrown into Azkaban. I never had the opportunity to fix those mistakes but I hope you will allow me to help you in his place. If you decide you are willing to meet me, send me a letter with the time and place you would like to meet and I will be there no matter what.

Sincerely,

Rosaleen Hewlin

Another member of Sirius' family. Since she is in contact with Andromeda Tonks, she must also have been disowned by the Blacks. I know I shouldn't contact her or leave the house but maybe she can help me since no one else seems to want to.

Harry quickly pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and a quill.

Dear Mrs. Hewlin,

I would be delighted to meet you. I will be in Diagon Alley on July 8th. I have a 10:30 appointment at Gringotts but will meet you at Ollivander's as soon as my business concludes.

Regards,

Harry Potter

He gave the letter to the waiting owl and watched him fly away. A plan slowly forming in his mind. The longer he sat there the crazier Harry's idea seemed, and the more determined he was to do it.

"Hedwig, I need you to take a letter to Hogwarts, I need you to take it straight to Dobby, make sure only he receives it. No one else must be aware of it okay, girl?"

Harry quickly wrote a short note to Dobby and then got ready for bed. There was nothing left to do but wait.