Chapter One.
"You know what, fuck you all, you dumb ass mother fuckers" Harry cackled manically, walking out of the wizarding bank Gringotts hands in the air, his leather jacket catching on the sudden breeze of the ornate doors slamming shut. His silver chains draped over his arms swung down and clashed with each other.
The wizards in the ally turned to him in confusion and disgust. Harry was not a common sight in a place well known for there traditional wear and medieval whimsy.
Because Harry you see was no regular wizard, he was a wizard raised by a Black and due to this fact, his attitude and behaviour was far from ordinary or mundane.
He had just left a meeting with the goblins about his family's estate, it appeared that a few of his family's belongings had been confiscated by Albus Dumbledore and his little order, harry was furious.
The heels of his dragon hide boots made a distinct click as he walked down the stairs and though the crowds of people that had gathered for their yearly shopping trip for school supplies.
A conniving smirk formed on his sly lips as thoughts about what he would do to the old codger slythered through his head.
What you don't know about our dear Harry and neither does the wizarding populous, is that he isn't just any boy, His name is Hadrian Sirius Potter Black heir to the most ancient and Nobel houses of Black and Potter as well as the one and only saviour.
When Harry was just a tot his parents were murdered in front of his cot with Harry watching over, he didn't cry he just watched.
The dark lord then walked over to the prophesised child to defeat him and aimed his wand, green light flashed but instead of poor little Harrys imminent death the dark lord disappeared that night injured and ashamed to be beaten by a mere child.
Harry sat in the destruction quietly, his bright eyes taking the whole image in, waiting for rescue. Minutes later Sirius Black arrived at the property, just a glance at the home told him all he needed to know, the Potters had been located and murdered.
With a deep sigh he held back tears, Blacks do not cry, a message engraved in him by his mother from a young age. He walked up across the threshold, lowering the hood of his coat, releasing is unrulily mane.
The buckles on his leather boots chimed wit each step as he made his way through the destruction.
Beams had fallen and books lay scattered, they had put up quite the fight.
He walked his way upstairs noticing that the Harrys door was the only one still on its hinge, Sirius's hope lifted.
He heard soft breathing as he pressed his pierced ear against the oak.
Sat in the old cot was a motionless Harry, his parents corpses below, his green eyes unwavering from their cold faces.
Sirius released the breath he didn't know he was holding.
Harry was okay, a little scared maybe, but alive.
Sirius was horrified by James and Lily's fresh corpses on the floor, but he held it together enough to walk over to Harry and enclose him in his safe arms.
"Hey Prongslet, it's all going to be okay, Uncle Paddy has you now". Harry snapped out of his daze and registered his uncle and started to softly cry into his shoulder.
At this point Sirius lost all composure at the weeping child in his arms and fell to the floor clutching harry close and struggling to breath, his best friends were gone. Murdered in cold blood by the dark lord because they wanted to protect their only child.
He would have to live for the both of them. He struggled from the floor, steady tears falling down his face. Harry was his life rope now, his only reason to live.
Sirius knew for a fact that Dumbledore would try and take Harry from him, with that in mind he payed one last look at his best friends and apparated out of the home with Harry clutched to his chest.
He went to the only place he could think of, a place he swore years ago that he would never return to, 12 Grimmauld Place, the home he ran from.
He reappeared on the street of his ancestral home, the gloomy nature had already set in, but maybe that was just the bad memory's coming back to haunt him.
Harry has slipped into the arms of Morpheus as they walked up the gate.
At Sirius presence the buildings moved to reveal number 12, the muggles residing at Grimmauld place had long accepted that the street went straight from 11 to 13, "its just one of those funny things." They would say in passing.
The house looked dark and dusty, haven been under serious neglect due to the insane house elf Sirius's mother had insisted in keeping due to its devotion to her.
Manoeuvring the sleeping child so that he had access to one hand to open the door, Sirius slipped though trying not to wake the poor boy. But that dream was destroyed by the vicious cursing and slander directed at them both by the talking portrait of Walburga Black from the first landing.
The sudden elevation in noise startled poor Harry confusing and scaring him further.
Finding the behaviour unacceptable Sirius gently placed harry on the floor before storming up the creaking stairs, wand in hand and anger evident as he grasped his wand so hard his knuckles whitened.
"Shut your disgusting mouth Mother or I will burn you where you hang" Sirius snarled at the painting of his late mother who looked truly disgusted by the notion.
"How dare you scum" she screamed.
"My heir and I will be living here for the foreseeable future either you behave Mother, or I will destroy you in your own home" Sirius snarled, baring his sharp teeth.
"Your heir? I have a grandson?" Walburga's painting looked at him in confusion,
"You mean you Sirius Black haven't completely failed this family and provided an heir for the direct line of Black and not just any heir a son…" She looked so ecstatic she would climb out of her frame.
"Hold your horses you crazy oil bat, Harry is my heir, but he is not my son he is the Potters he will always be" Sirius spoke, knowing that no one could possibly replace James and Lily.
"Scum, Traitors, Mud bloods, Idiots" Walburga's yelled at Sirius, her shrill tone echoing off the walls of the old house.
"that's it!" Sirius yelled in rage and did the one thing he had always dreamed of, lighting his mother on fire.
Her terror filled screamed filled the house as the flame travelled up her portrait, Sirius having enough of scene whispered a silencing charm.
They wouldn't hear her voice ever again.
Harry sat patiently on the floor, seeing Sirius he lifted both arms to be picked up.
Sirius held his godson lovingly as carried the child that had seen far too much up the stairs and into his old room.
Nothing had changed, having had used a permanent sticking charm on the posters on his wall, Gryffindor flags hung from the ceiling and various posters of bands, Motorbikes and Chicks where glued to the walls, with a large moving picture of him and his Hogwarts friends on his desk.
Harry this is your home now, he muttered to the child as he placed him on the ed and wrapped him in a blanket. You will be safe here.
Little did Sirius know; the order had arrived on the scene of the Potters residence and turned the place upside down looking for any evidence of Harry on Dumbledore's orders. They found nothing, assuming that he was killed or taken by the dark lord the order was at a loss. There supposed saviour was gone and so was the dark lord, and they had lost two of there best members all in one night.
And so, It was known throughout the wizarding world, that the chosen one Harry Potter would return to save them from the dark. The papers portrayed the boy as a young version of James with lily's eyes, they wrote story's about the boy and sold merchandise, Harry potters name was famous. But who he actual was and where he was, was a complete mystery.
As for Sirius Black no one has heard from or seen him since the incident on Hallows eve, its assumed by many that consumed with the grief of all of his close friends and family dying he spent all his time at home.
No one really questioned where he was, which is just as well.
To be continued?