Bless anyone who actually takes the time to read this!

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns all rights to Harry Potter. I have simply changed the story to suit my creative mind. (If thats

what you want to call it, though many would beg to differ). I own nothing. :(

Orphaned

A giant of a man appears outside of a house in ruins. He merely stands there for a moment and stares

as he remembers the once beautiful home where so much love and happiness had resided. He pulls

himself together, wipes his red, swollen eyes on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and enters the

home. Inside he immediately lays eyes on the man with jet black hair lying dead on the floor. And another

man with long, black stringy hair grieving over his best friends body.

"Sirius", he said in an unintentional whisper. He watched as Sirius jumped up at the sound of his name.

" Hagrid, you startled me." He said trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. "What are you doing here"?

" Professor Dumbledore sent me ter take Harry to 'is Aunt and Uncles." he sighed heavily and

added " poor little thing".

" But... Hagrid I'm Harry's godfather I'll take him there's really no nee...

Hagrid cut in, "I'm s'rry 'bout all this Sirius, I have me orders straight from Dumbledore".

"Dumbledore has his reasons I'm sure it's fer the best".

" But... what about... oh never mind I'll go fetch him, I at least want to say goodbye." Sirius said.

Sirius brought Harry down stairs with tears in his eyes once again.

" Now you be a good boy for the muggles Harry, everything will be o.k.," he hugged the child

and then handed his godson to Hagrid.

" Take my motorcycle Hagrid I won't be needing it anymore," Sirius said.

" Well tha's right kind of ya Sirius... are sure." Hagrid ask trying to hide his slight excitement.

Sirius nodded and watched as Hagid and baby Harry rode away. When they were out of sight

Sirius turned and ran back into the Potter's desecrated house and up the stairs into the nursery. Inside the

closet was a hidden entrance to a tiny room. Inside the room wrapped in a warm red blanket lay the

Potter's two month old baby girl, Rose Marie Potter.

As he lifted the baby gently into his arms he whispered, " I wish I could raise you as my own,

Rosie, but I can't let that traitor get away with this. But I know where you'll be safe."