An idea that just... you know appeared to me at night while I couldn't sleep. Please, if you liked it R&R

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its character. They belong to the wonderful J.K Rowling!

Prologue.

Harry Potter was more than pleased to be back in Hogwarts (even though it was just for a fast meeting with professor Dumbledore) walking through the dark hallways, just a month after what had taken place in the Ministry of Magic during the end of the school year, as he tried to stop the memories of that particular day from flowing freely through his mind.

Remembering the fight led him to remember Sirius' death. It was aching and something he tried to forget with all his might, repressing the images of his Godfather falling through the veil after being struck by Bellatrix's curse. He hated that day, as another loved one had been taken away from him; the man who had been the closest thing to a father to him was now gone.

It killed Harry to know, despite whatever Hermione had to say, that it was his own fault. He was the one who had led his friends to the Ministry of Magic in the first place, thinking naively that what he had witnessed inside his head was absolutely real, and Sirius was being tortured by Voldemort himself. He had been so innocent believing his stupid judgment, and so foolish and stubborn by not listening to Hermione and her less mistaken suggestion about the situation.

He had not just led his Godfather to his sudden death, but he could have been mourning over his friends' demise too. He could have gotten himself killed, but unfortunately it had been Sirius the one to leave and not him.

"Shall we, Harry?" said Mr. Weasley, sided by Tonks, taking the silver knob and pushing the door open.

The situation reminded Harry about the last time he had been in the headmaster's office, when he was told about the Prophecy and his future as 'the chosen one'. However, this time Dumbledore had asked him to come for unknown reasons, as he hadn't explained much in his latter:

Dear Harry,

If it is convenient to you, Mr. Weasley and Miss Tonks shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Saturday at eleven p.m. to escort you to the castle, where I intend we two discuss urgent and important things. I shall explain this more fully when I see you.

Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Saturday,

I am yours most sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

"Harry," gritted the old man, smiling and watching him from behind his half moon glasses. "I guessed you would be arriving soon. How are you? Has your scar been hurting at all?"

Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed the lightning-shaped mark.

"No," answered Harry truthfully while he made his way towards the empty spot before the headmaster, Tonks and Mr. Weasley fallowing close behind, "and I've been wondering about that. I thought it would be burning all the time now Voldemort's getting so powerful again."

"I, on the other hand, thought otherwise," said Dumbledore wearing a satisfied expression. "Lord Voldemort has finally realized the dangerous access to his thoughts and feelings you have been enjoying. It appears that he is now employing Occlumency against you."

"Well, I'm not complaining," said Harry, who missed neither the disturbing dreams nor the startling flashes of insight into Voldemort's mind.

"So Harry, I can guess you were surprised when you received my sudden latter," said professor Dumbledore. "But this meeting could not be postponed to the beginning of your school year, as we must discuss a few things that can no longer wait. First thing, I will ask you, Arthur and Nymphadora, to wait for Harry outside, please."

Tonks looked at the old man, confused.

"Professor Dumbledore…?"

"Please Dora," repeated the headmaster, calmed as always. "I absolutely appreciate that you two safely escorted Harry here all the way from Private Drive, but the things said tonight inside this office are meant for Harry, and Harry only, though he can later choose who to tell and who not." At this, Tonks and Mr. Weasley left the room without a word, as Albus turned to Harry. "You must be wondering, Harry, why didn't I just appeared at Privet Drive instead of making you travel to Andromeda's to take that portkey –well, you must forgive me, but I have to attend an imperative task here in the school, which requires my full attention. You shall understand more about that at the beginning of the course."

Harry just nodded, not really mad to leave Privet Drive even if it was for a few hours.

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, turning toward him, "a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. If you are agreeable, I would be glad of your assistance in this matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the Burrow in a few weeks, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays."

Harry could just nod once again.

"I'd like you to accompany me to the charming village of Budleigh Babberton. We must persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."

"How can I help with that, sir?"

"Oh, I think we'll find a use for you," said Dumbledore vaguely. "But you will know more about that later. Now I must tell you that Sirius's will was discovered a week ago."

Dumbledore made a pause.

"You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Giringotts," Dumbledore went on, "and Sirius also left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place, which meant a slightly problematic part of the legacy, as the Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of 'Black.'"

"Meant, sir?" Harry asked, confused. "Isn't that a problem anymore?"

There was a long silence, in which Harry watched as the old professor tried to find the right words.

"You see, Harry," he finally said. "While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood. If such an enchantment exists, then, as the Black family tradition decrees, the house is handed down to the next male with the name of 'Black', and if there is none, finally the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange."

Without realizing what he was doing, Harry sprang to his feet. Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius's killer, inherit his house? "No," he said firmly.

"Don't worry, Harry," reassured Dumbledore with a smile. "As I said, it is no longer a problem."

Harry sat back down, confused at the situation in hand.

"I don't quiet understand, sir."

"Let me read you the testament, I believe it will make things easier for you to comprehend," said Dumbledore, taking a large paper in his hand and then saying aloud:

The will and testament of Sirius Black

"To Harry James Potter, I leave the former house of the Black family and so Kreacher the house-elf, in the hope he may one day call it his home (…)"

Dumbledore made a puase and looked at Harry over his half moon glasses before continuing.

"To Rabazthian Magnus Black, I leave all the Black Family's possessions at his hand, in the hope he will find a deeper value in them than I ever did (...)"

"Rabazthian Magnus… Black?" Harry mumbled to himself, as he looked at Dumbledore in astonishment. Black? Harry thought. As in Black, like Sirius? It had to be a joke, a really bad joke; but Dumbledore did not seem to be jesting.

"Yes, Harry, there is another member of the Black family alive," Dumbledore said calmly. "And as the next male with the name of 'Black' he made sure that you were given the house as Sirius' will dictates."

Harry was indeed very surprised at this revelation, but still didn't quiet understand a few things, like why hadn't Sirius told him about this other Black male? Or why hadn't he showed up, why hadn't Harry met him before?

"What-? But who's- who's Rabazthian Black?"

"That would be me," said a male voice behind him, and when Harry turned he was greeted by a tall young man around his age standing by the door, short brown hair, icy-blue eyes, and wearing muggle clothes, a small smile and a bandage covering his left wrist held against his chest. "I'm Rabazthian Black, is nice to finally meet you Harry."

Please, tell me what you think about this :D