Chapter One London





"But I - "

"No excuses!" For the first time ever in the house of number four Privet Drive, Harry Potter was not the person to blame.

"You've cost my firm a major client, and tried to blame it on him!" Uncle Vernon roared at his son, pointing furiously at Harry. Dudley cowered, his watery blue eyes beginning to feel with tears. Harry ducked out of the house to start laughing. Dudley had been punching Harry in the back when a client arrived for dinner. The client left, saying that Dudley was an uncivilized disgrace to Uncle Vernon. Harry, however, had been very polite, and for once, Uncle Vernon lied and said that Harry was his son and Dudley was his mentally-challenged nephew.

Mrs. And Mr. Dursley had finally accepted the truth: their son was a bully. Beating up Harry in front of a client was not a wise thing to do. After having so many notes sent to them from Smeltings about their son, and Dudley's suspension, they had morosely recognized the problem.

After all this, Aunt Petunia scheduled a month-long cruise to get Uncle Vernon's mind off of losing a major buyer, leaving Harry with Mrs. Figg until the end of the summer.

It was a pleasant summer night, and Harry was glad to be out of the house - away from his babysitter. She was a sweet old lady, but was quite boring after a while.

Harry sat down on the garden bench and closed his eyes. He traced the scar on his forehead with his finger. He was surprised that it had stopped hurting, as it had been burning for most of his summer so far. He recalled waking up almost every night, drenched in sweat, and whipping out his wand. His nightmares grew more and more vivid. He, Hermione, and Ron were allowed to use magic over the summer to learn new curses and spells. Everyone was worried about Harry, but no wizard or witch would be brave enough to take him in. They all wanted to use him. They wanted to have him around to ward off Voldemort, but not close enough to them that they can be killed.

Harry had to protect himself.

Harry looked at the sundial. It was nearly eight o'clock. Harry fingered his wand and began to stand up. There was a rustle in the bushes behind him. He whirled around quickly, wand raised. A dark shape crawled out of the brush. Harry stood frozen as it looked up at him. It was a dog - a big, black dog.

"Snuffles," Harry whispered, "is that you?" The dog nodded its head. Harry watched as the dog grew into his godfather.

"Harry!" Sirius said. "Give your godfather a hug!" Harry hesitated. How did he know this was really Sirius?

"Sirius, if this is really you, I'm sorry about this," Harry said, not lowering his wand. "Stupefy!" Sirius' body fell to the ground, unconscious. "Identidem." The words Sirius J. Black formed in smoky letters above the limp body. Harry sighed with relief and walked over to his godfather. "Enervate." Sirius sat up and smiled.

"Good thinking, Harry," Sirius said, smiling. Harry shrugged.

"You can't be too careful," he said. Harry helped Sirius up and hugged him. Harry was nearly as tall as him. Sirius let go, his eyes sparkling in the starlight.

"We need to leave," Sirius said, suddenly very grave. "Now. Where are your things?" He started walking toward the back door.

"Why?"

"Never mind that. Where are your things?"

"They're in the cupboard under the stairs," Harry said. "And Sirius, my neighbor is taking care of me. She's a bit old, so try not to scare her too badly." Harry gave Sirius his wand. Sirius nodded as they walked in through the door.

There was a shriek.

"Who are you?" Mrs. Figg squeaked. Sirius put on the insane leer that he had when Harry met him in his third year.

"Sirius Black," Sirius said eerily. His voice was so strange that it sent a chill down Harry's spine. "I've come to take Harry. It seems you - " The old woman slapped Sirius across the face.

"Sirius Black, you stop that this instant!"

A bewildered look spread across Sirius' face, and then a look of amazed realization.

"Miss Figg!" Sirius stuttered. "Arabella Figg! What are you doing here?"

"Babysitting," said the old woman, "and you are not supposed to be here for one week."