ON THE RUN

Barmy Ol Badger

June 2007

Welcome to my first fanfic ever... well enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Finding You

Harry Potter lay in his cupboard under the stairs, absently flicking away the spiders that lived with him. He was once again in trouble with his uncle for yet another unexplainable accident. This time all the pictures of Dudley had started making pig noises for no reason. Harry, being Harry got the blame. That was always how it was, some random, obscure something happened, Harry got the blame, Harry got punished, Harry in the cupboard with no meals for a week.

His hand absent-mindedly trailed over a purpling bruise under his cheek. His uncle had never hit him that high before; normally it was on his back, where no one could see it. But, he reasoned, as most six year olds do, that it was summer, so no one would see it. Except Mrs Figg, but Uncle Vernon would have some excuse ready made. He always did.

Before he realised it, Harry was being woken by the sharp screeches of his aunt, demanding he cook breakfast. Groaning as he got up, his called to he that he was up. In all honesty hearing Aunt Petunia screeching in the morning was almost like reassurance that he hadn't died in the night. Harry was seven today. Not that anyone would notice. His aunt and uncle knew, Harry knew they had to, but they ignored it, and Dudley wouldn't care unless the birthday of Harry Potter, the freak who lived in the cupboard, interrupted his daily tellie routine. He tiredly picked himself up off the floor and wandered into the perfectly normal kitchen to cook a perfectly normal breakfast.

Escaped convict, the betrayer and mass muggle murderer Sirius Black wandered down Privet Drive, Little Whinging Surrey without a care in the world. Anyone passing would not see the gaunt man on the wanted posters; there was no real resemblance between this Sirius Black and that Sirius. Although he may have seemed cool, calm and collected, he was nervous as all hell. And Sirius Black never, ever got nervous. It was unheard of.

'Prongs'd be having a fit if he saw me nervous' he thought, 'Moony would be shaking his head into his book and Wormtail, traitorous little sodding rat, would be trying so hard to keep the contents of his bladder where they belonged!' He thought with a snort because no, Sirius wasn't bitter toward Peter Pettigrew at all. After all, he only killed his best friend and his wife, destroyed his godsons family, murdered 12 muggles, framed Sirius and toddled off down the drain with all other sewer rats.

'He always did make a better rat than person' he chuckled as he reached number four.

Being a supposed mass murderer had its perks, like he was now able to make mental lists. Because only serial killers make lists. Or so Lily had told him. And did Sirius know not to argue with that redhead! He carried on past number four, sparing a hopeful, longing glance at the front room window. Unfortunately no Harry in sight, well he hoped that whale of a boy wasn't Harry. But it didn't look anything like the Harry he knew 6 years ago so Sirius carried on to an empty alley. He hid behind a dumpster and transformed into Padfoot.

After Harry finished breakfast he was packed off to his room to serve the rest of his punishment. The past four days had occurred in a similar fashion, he was only allowed out to cook and when his uncle got home. Harry blocked out any and all beatings from his uncle. The worst was the second day, when he accidentally let the bacon over-cook. That was four days ago and his punishment was over.

Harry preferred the cupboard to out in the house; it made him susceptible to the Dursleys. Thankfully, he was allowed out, and today he decided on going to the park. He had no idea why, but something was telling him to go to the park. So Harry, not being one to argue with gut instincts, tied up his trainers and left to the park.

'Finally' thought Sirius as he watched his godson come out of the house. He had all but given up hope that this was where Harry lived, but here he was.

'About time he came out! He looks just like Prongs too. Champion!' he did a mental jig, which stopped very abruptly when he got closer to Harry. Sirius noticed a small and almost faded bruise under his eye, as well as how skinny he was. And the clothes that were at least three sizes too big did not go past him either. Detective Sirius came out, and the ever-trusty Padfoot turned to follow Harry in the direction of the park.

When Harry got to the park, he immediately set off for the swings. They were his favourite, probably because they required more energy than the other play equipment, so Dudley would never go near them. Except if it was to play Harry Hunting. But Dudley had gone out with one of his friends so Harry was safe. He shut his eyes rocked back and forth on the swings, wishing he had someone who would push him really high, Harry could only get so far by himself. Just as he was about to give it all his might, he felt someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"Eeep!" he squealed, in a big boy kind of way, and promptly fell backwards off the swing. He immediately went rigid because he knew that he could never outrun Dudley now. But when no punches or nasty words came, Harry eased open his eyes.

Sirius, as Padfoot, dutifully followed seven year old Harry Potter to the park. His insides were squirming, from lack of nutritional food, or nerves he wasn't too sure, but it definitely wasn't good. Plucking up his Gryffindor courage, he transformed and walked over to Harry on the swings.

'shit shit shit shit, what if I scare him? What if he doesn't want to live with me? Worse… what if he doesn't like pranks, or Quidditch?' Sirius thought as began hyperventilating.

All too soon he reached Harry, and noticed that he had his eyes closed. He reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Deep breaths Sirius, deep breaths' he imagined Moony the psychiatrist telling him to lie on his sofa, causing him to chuckle. He was brought out of his daydream by a squeal and a thud. When he saw Harry lying on the ground not moving, he went into instant panic mode. Screw breathing deeply, he had just killed his godson. 'Shit! I killed the boy-who-lived'. He threw his hands up to his hair in frustration and bent over Harry's now dead body. So imagine Sirius' shock when Harry opened his eyes, picked himself up of the ground and started backing away.

"He's alive! I didn't kill him! You're alive!" Sirius shouted, which seemed to scare Harry even more.

"I mean, hello Harry, I'm your godfather, Sirius Black." That did it, Harry was frozen stiff.

'Ok, smooth Padfoot,' rung a little voice in Sirius' head, which sounded like James 'you could get any girl in school, but you have no idea on how to talk to your own godson? That's brilliant!'

"Definitely Prongs" he said aloud

"Sorry, but what do you mean? What's prongs?" asked Harry timidly

"Prongs was a friend of mine, and er... well, thats the nickname we gave to your dad when we were at school." explained Sirius, noting a look of excitement cross over his face before disapointment returned.

"Uncle Vernon said I have to be home soon. I'm sorry for bothering you" and with that Harry took off.

'shit!' Thought Sirius, 'lost him again! And what the hell is he on about? That fat muggle wouldn't know his arse from his head, actually I don't think many people would. Ah well, I best find him. Time for paddy I think'

Anyone looking out of his or her windows onto Privet Drive would see Harry Potter, that scruffy hooligan running from the direction of the park.

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The first chapter. It is a horrible cliche, and done so many times, but I was bored and on holidays with nothing but a notebook for company so this is my holiday lovechild. I am writing another story, which will be a bit more exciting than this.

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