Title: Just Like His Father
Author: waiting4amadmanwithabox
Rating: M
Summary: When Harry goes to live with Sirius instead of the Dursley's, the summer before 6th year, he discovers Sirius is not the man he thought he was, and Harry is altogether too much like his father.
Warnings: Child abuse, rape, AU, suicide, Blind/Idiotic!Dumbledore.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, do you really think I would be posting about them on fanfiction? Hell no! I'd be making thousands of dollars instead. Which I am not, therefore they aren't mine.
A/N; I hope you enjoy, and review. :) Much thanks to A Lonely God With A Box for writing parts of the first chapter and betaing.

Harry sat alone in the living room in Grimmauld Place with a book in his lap. He had begun dozing since this was his transfiguration text and the house was so quiet. Every so often the house would get busy, usually when Dumbledore called an Order meeting, but unless it was going on, everyone was back at their own houses. The Weasley's were at the Burrow, Hermione was back with her family, Snape was at Spinner's End, and so Sirius Black had taken Harry in to be away from the Dursleys. Harry was grateful for this. It was his first day with his godfather, and Sirius had pretty much ignored him the whole day.

"He's probably just giving me my space," Harry thought. "Probably just doesn't know what to say or something." Harry got up, and laid his text aside. After searching the house for a few minutes, he discovered Sirius in the kitchen.

"Hi, Harry," Sirius said. "Want to help me out with something?"

"Sure," Harry agreed. "What?"

"I need you to dust the library." Sirius handed Harry a dusting rag and pointed him in the right direction. Well, that was certainly a big enough job. The library only was the biggest room of the house and was only overfilled to the point of almost needed an expansion charm. Harry swallowed his instinct to snort at the request. But, it was his godfather. And surely the man knew what he was asking so he wouldn't mind if he just dusting the front of the shelves.

A few hours later, Harry came back and found Sirius reading the Daily Prophet with a cup of tea.

"All done," he said.

"That was fast," Sirius said. "Let me check." Sirius led the way to the library, Harry following still carrying the dust rag. Sirius pulled some books off a shelf and ran his finger behind them. Pulling it back, he stuck it under Harry's nose.

"See that?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, confused.

"That's dust. That's a dust rag. A dust rag is meant to pick up dust. I suggest you start doing it." And then Sirius cuffed Harry on the ear. Harry stumbled to the side. It was so unexpected. He looked up at Sirius with disbelief. His godfather had hit him? Over a little dust? Harry looked darkly at Sirius. It was a combination of fear and suspicion. Of course, that little cuff hadn't hurt that much at all. It was the principle of the thing though. If Sirius was willing to cuff his ear, knowing his background, was that just the end of it? Could Harry be sure?

"Start now!" Sirius said, as he saw Harry just stare at him.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, and set to work, chancing a glace over at Sirius as he left the room.

Harry turned and began dusting. It was a fairly mindless job really. So his mind began wandering over the past days, weeks, months, even years.

Sirius had asked Dumbledore - no, actually more like begged and pleaded, - that Harry come stay with him. Harry began to look back at what he knew of the conversation. Of course, not having been there, he couldn't know everything that had happened, just what Sirius had told him.

*flashback*

"Albus Dumbledore!" Sirius roared. "I know about the blood wards! You don't need to lecture me like a school boy!" He stood up and raised his arms in emphasis. "Do you know what the Dursleys do to the boy though?" Dumbledore sighed, and his shoulders sank.

"Yes, Sirius," Dumbledore said, "I know. Harry has told me. He's begged not to go back. He's asked to be taken in by any of the professors or even students - if he could just get away."

Snape had snorted at this, and muttered, "I bet he would have rethought that if I had volunteered to take him," along with his usual sneer. But his comment went ignored, except for a glare from Sirius.

"And why didn't you comply?" Sirius challenged.

"Because he needed the blood wards," Dumbledore said. "I needed to keep him safe."

"How is it safe that he go back to the Dursleys? If you know what they did to him, how did you think that was...safe?" His voice dropped dangerously low at the end. "I can take Harry in, Albus. Let me take him."

"Because living with a fugitive is such a safe life," Snape sneered.

"I can offer him enough to eat! I can offer James' son someone who loves him! Please, Albus, I know I can't offer him everything, but I can offer him more than the Dursleys are willing to give. Just give me a chance. Just give me till the beginning of the school year."

"Alright," Albus sighed in defeat. "You can have him."

"Albus!" Snape growled, standing up and glaring at the headmaster. "You can't do that! You can't give him to the mutt! I'd take him before that." Snape was seething with anger. "You never listened to what I had to say about his condition, but you listen to his godmutt? How is this going to be a...safer...situation than with the Dursleys?" His voice went very quiet, and only Albus could hear the words. "Black isn't all right in the head. He'll think Potter is his father."

Dumbledore cast a disapproving look at Snape. "And you are a shining example of that yourself, Severus." He admonished quietly. Snape snarled.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," Dumbledore said. "My decision stands."

"Hmph," Snape had said, twirled his cape, and left the room, as a very satisfied Sirius smirked after him.

*end flashback*

Well, of course Snape had wanted him to go back to the Dursleys. Snape would always want him back with the Dursleys. Harry had been so glad when he heard that he could finally leave that accursed house, and live with his godfather. Anything would be better than being locked in a room and given scraps of food through a cat door. But now he wondered. Would it really be better? Sirius had hit him. He tried to remind himself that it was only the first day, and that it really hadn't hurt that much - physically. But then another part of his brain responded that if Sirius knew his situation at the Dursleys, why would he raise his hand to him at all? It was all so confusing.

Harry's mind continued to race like a hamster on a wheel until the whole library was dusted, which was the middle of the night.

Things progressed through the week, with Sirius giving Harry progressively harder and more chores, with a cuff or smack to accompany anything that was not perfect. It wasn't as bad as the Dursleys per say, but it wasn't what he was expecting from Sirius.

Though Harry was starting to have a sneaking suspicion that Sirius wasn't quite….right in the head. There had been times when he would walk past Sirius and overhear him muttering about 'must tell James,' and the next full moon.

It was the Monday into his third week when he knew Sirius was worse news than the Dursleys. He was cooking breakfast and had spilled some porridge on the floor. It was a small amount, and he had started to clean it up, but Sirius had exploded. Raving about making "this dump filthier than it already was and ruining good food." That was the first time Harry had truly felt scared of his godfather. He had drug him up the stairs, muttering about worthless brats, and tossed him into his room against the wall, causing him to lose consciousness. He woke an hour later with a burning sensation in his brain and Severus Snape standing over him, holding a vial of smelling salts under his nose.

"Potter! What in Merlin's name happened?" The hooked nosed man barked.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked groggily.

"What do I mean? Care to explain Mr. Potter, why I came up here to find passed out against a wall, having obviously hit your head against said wall?"

"I tripped." Harry stated flatly, used to coming up with believable excuses after the Dursleys.

"Over what?" Snape asked disbelievingly. "This room is as spotless as the Malfoys Manor!"

"My feet. I'm having a growth spurt." Harry said.

"Is that so?" Snape drawled, obviously not buying it, but he left it at that. "Be as that may, Mr. Potter, you are obviously in need of some healin-"

"NO! I'm fine." Harry spoke quickly.

"Good Lord Potter, I was just going to offer a potion for that lump on your head."

"Oh, thanks." Harry blushed sheepishly.

"No harm, here." Snape thrust a vial at him, waited till he had downed it, and then walked off.

"Potter, if you ever need to talk to someone, I am willing." Then he turned on his heel and left.

Harry was puzzled. 'That was an incredibly strange conversation. Not only had Snape acted decently, but he had offered him help. But he would ponder it in the morning, as he was really tired right now.

The week went by, and Harry was steadily collecting more bruises from being shoved into walls and smacked across the face. Sirius was getting more and more violent, but Harry just knew he wouldn't be as bad as Uncle Vernon. That was, until today.

"HARYY JAMES POTTER! GET YOUR SORRY ARSE DOWN HERE NOW!" Harry sprinted down the stairs. Whatever had Sirius that pissed had to be bad.

Sirius was at the bottom of the stairs glaring. "How- how DARE you?" Harry stared at him puzzled.

"How dare I what?"

"You went in my bedroom!" Sirius shrieked.

Harry was shocked. "I did not! I don't even know where your bedroom is! I was not in your bedroom!"

Sirius gave an unholy smirk of glee. "You don't know where it is, then allow me to show you." Grabbing Harry by the arm, he drug him up the stairs, with Harry kicking and dragging his heels all the way. "Stop it you little bastard!" Sirius wacked him against the wall to prove his point and Harry fell still, waiting with an anticipatory dread for whatever Sirius would do to him now. It couldn't be worse than the belt, could it? But he was wrong, so wrong when Sirius threw him onto the bed in the room they had just entered.

"I think it's time you learnt a lesson Harry. Strip."

Harry gaped at Sirius. Surely he did not mean that. "But- but-"

"I said STRIP BOY!" Sirius hollered at him, and trembling, Harry did so. "All of it." Sirius growled when Harry paused at the elastic waist of his pants, and he did so, praying all the while this was just a nightmare, and he would wake up in Privet Drive. Sirius cleared his throat expectantly, and Harry straightened up, fully nude.

"On your knees, boy. And don't you dare bite." Sirius snarled, and Harry sank down in a daze. It seemed an eternity before Sirius jerked him off his cock and onto his feet. "On the bed." Harry complied, knowing that deep down, nothing could stop this, and fighting would only make it worse. But when Sirius entered him with two quick thrusts, he couldn't hold back a scream as he felt himself split in two. Ages later, when Sirius finally stiffened and came, Harry was hardly surprised when he whispered "Oh James." Under his breath.

It seemed Snape was right after all, he was too much like his father.