A/N Dear all, The Basilisk King here, this story just wouldn't get out of my head so I had to start putting it down on paper, and I hope you enjoy it. For those of you who have rad my other HP story, don't worry it isn't abandoned I've just hit blot and RL troubles and am only no just getting back into fanfiction. Please enjoy the tale, oh and the usual I own none of the characters aside from my OC's and Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

Chapter 1: Letters

Number Four Privet Drive was quiet nothing out of the ordinary happening, there were only a few lights on indicating that some of the occupants were awake, the flickering blue light spoke of the fact that they were watching a television set, something of a religious practice in this household. However the four occupants were all doing something vastly different to the other, a large walrus like man was sitting watching a political program detailing the influx of refugees from the continent all the time muttering about 'bloody foreigners', the woman, who bore a surprising resemblance to a horse was cleaning her kitchen, not that unusual for a suburban housewife, except that this was the fifth time this kitchen had been cleaned that day.

One of the younger males, the one that resembled a slightly overweight killer whale, was sitting at his computer playing a game that appealed to his small oafish mind; he was playing a game that the entire point was to kill things with a variety of brutal weapons, not something that would appeal to the more gentile members of civilized society. The other boy however was a different matter all together, he had longish unruly black hair, glasses, a lightning bolt scar, and the greenest eyes that anyone could have, and his name was Harry Potter.

Harry was no ordinary boy, he was a wizard, a wizard that had just completed his fifth year of schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he was also a wizard who was in mourning for the only true father figure he had ever known, the recently deceased Sirius Black. Tears slowly slid down the face of the Boy Who Lived, the prophesised saviour of the wizarding world; although there were few saviours in the history of wizard or muggle kind that looked like Harry did at this exact moment. He was lying face down on his bed his arms pillowing his head as he tried to fight away the pain, both from his memories and from his back, Harry's back was in pain s it was split open from what appeared to be dozens and dozens of lash marks, a gift from his Uncle Vernon.

Ever since that night in the Department of Mysteries Harry had been plagued by nightmares of seeing his Godfather falling through the Death Veil, a look of surprise adorning his features as his life was stolen from his by none other than his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, and every time that Harry woke up screaming his uncle would come bursting through the door and begin to beat Harry wherever he could with a large leather belt with a brass buckle, a memento from his own boxing days at Smeltings.

Now the reason that Harry's magic had not taken drastic action against his uncle was that he thought he deserved the punishment, Harry blamed himself for the death of his beloved Godfather and as such thought that he should somehow atone for these perceived sins by accepting the beatings of his uncle, for without an emotional focus point his magic could not react.

Although despite these feelings there was another emotion that was coursing through the Boy Who Lived, and that was pure rage, this wrath was directed at one target and one target only, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. The man who had been running Harry's life like on big puppet show ever since they had first met, and now barely hours after Harry had lost his Godfather the old man had the audacity to tell him a prophecy that stated he was the one that was destined to vanquish Voldemort, or be killed by him.

After that particular revelation Harry lost any faith that he had left in the old man, and had started suspecting that he had been lying to him about many things throughout his whole life, not least his family status, as his 'best friend' Ron Weasley had often mentioned with no small amount of jealousy that the Potters were one of the oldest, purest and richest families in the wizarding world. Yet Harry had never received any bank statements detailing his wealth from Gringotts, and if his family was so well off, why was he sent to live with horrible relatives, surely there must be some wizards and witches that were able to care from him, these were questions that Harry wanted answered.

Another factor that Harry was holding against Dumbledore was that, yet again, Harry had received no owl-post from his friends, which lead Harry to believe that the Headmaster was withholding his mail, probably telling everyone that it was for 'The Greater Good'. The main reason that Harry thought that the headmaster was interfering with his mail was the fact that he had received one letter from his best female friend Hermione Granger, a letter via muggle post. The letter asked Harry why he had not replied to any of her letters, along with telling him that she did not blame him for the injuries that she sustained during the battle of the Department of Mysteries and giving her condolences' over Sirius' death.

Hearing it from his best friend had made the event more real for Harry, but making it more real did not change his guilt over the situation. Until this night, at least, for it was this night that would change Harry's life in more ways than one.

As Harry was lying on his bed continually going over the death of his godfather he heard an owl tapping on his window, glancing up he saw an official looking barn owl with a medallion around its neck sitting on his windowsill with a roll of parchment clutched in its powerful talons. Sighing Harry dragged himself from the position he was in on the bed and took the missive from the owl, only noticing while he was standing in front of it, and just before the owl flew off, that the medallion that was hanging around its neck bore the crest of Gringotts. Perplexed Harry took the letter and unfolded it upon his small desk, only realising then that there were two letters contained with the package.

The first letter stated

Dear Mr Potter

It is with regret that we inform you of the denial of your request concerning the will of Lord Sirius Orion Black, your request for Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore to take control over the matter of the inheritance left for you by the recently deceased Lord Black.

Due to stipulations left in the will of the late Lord Black you are required to be at the will reading in order for it to be read, therefore your presence is requested to be at Gringotts on the 22nd day of August this year.

Thank you for your cooperation, and again we are sorry to be unable to help you with your request, and of course for your loss.

Sincerely

Lord Goldspear

Account Manager for the Black Family

Gringotts Bank London

Harry was livid, he had sent no such letter to Gringotts saying that he wanted Dumbledore to take care of the inheritance left him by Sirius, the old man had been controlling his life, trying to make him into the perfect weapon. Harry's thoughts whirled, so much that he forgot the other letter that had arrived with the first, and from these whirling thoughts came a startling realisation, that it was Dumbledore that was to blame for Sirius's death, for it was Dumbledore that had instructed Snape to 'teach' Harry the art of Occlumency, lessons that had apparently failed, allowing Voldemort to give him the false vision of Sirius being tortured.

Once Harry had calmed down slightly he remembered that there was a second letter that he had to read, and with shock he realized that it was from his godfather, Sirius Black himself.

Dear Harry

If you are reading this then it appears that I am dead, I never wanted to leave you alone in this world Harry and I am going to assume that the manner of my passing was in protecting you, and that my life was given to ensure your survival. Harry this is something that I do not regret, from the moment I saw you on the day you were born I loved you like a son, if I did pass away protecting you then you are most certainly not to blame.

As I sit here writing this letter Harry there are so many thing that I would like to talk to you about but alas I shall have to confine myself to a letter. Harry I do not believe that you should put a great deal of trust in the Order of the Phoenix, during the first war we were a much more effective fighting force than we are today, we actually fought Death Eaters instead of just spending all our time planning and discussing things.

As such I believe that aside from a a select few there are not many Order members you could put your trust in, especially Dumbledore, I know he seems to be the great 'Leader of the Light' but some of the things that he has done paint a much darker picture. For example leaving you with those muggles, I refuse to call them your family, they treated you worse than the Malfoy's treat a house elf and Dumbledore knew. Before your parents went into hiding he pulled the lot of us, Moony, Prongs, Lilly, the Rat, and myself, oh and you were there too pulling on Moony's hair if I remember correctly. Anyway, Dumbledore told us that no matter what happened to all of us he would be able to look out for you, he had a load of Administrolae in his office, they look like little silver spinning instruments or gadgets, and they are charmed to monitor one person's mental and physical health. Which I believe means that he wanted you beaten and bloodied so he would seem to be a grand saviour every time he 'rescued' you from Privet Drive.

As much as I hate to say it Harry but I don't think that you can trust the Weasley's either, they are too far under Dumbledore's thumb to even think a negative thought about the man, unfortunately that goes for McGonagall too, but keeping with the Weasley's I know a few things about this family that I think you should know, firstly that I believe that a love potion was used on you to get you to have feelings for Ginny, the way that your romance developed seemed to planned and orchestrated to be real, and Ron just reminds me of a certain Rat that we all love to hate.

Finally Harry there are a few people that I know that you can trust, the fist is Hermione, that girl is the single smartest person I have ever met, and I went to school with your mother remember, keep her close Harry she is a true friend. The only thing that I question about her is her taste in wizard, I think that she maybe suffering the same thing that you were with Ginny, if these speculations prove wrong then I am sorry, but when you can, possibly at my will reading please have yourselves checked, the Goblins owe me a favour or two.

Secondly, believe it or not, is Hagrid. I know what you are thinking, that Hagrid is one of those who is also under Dumbledore's thumb, but believe me Harry, the way the man talks about you, you have a real friend in your corner there. Hagrid is a man who makes friends easy, laughs loud and is impeccably loyal, he does not give his trust and loyalty lightly, and I think he would stand with you if push came to shove.

There is also Remus and Tonks, they will stand with you no matter what, if Remus starts that whole werewolf bit again tell him 'the Marauders stand together' he will know what it means. Look after him and Nymmie won't you? They need someone to look after them, oh and Nymmie and any variation of was my nickname for Tonks when she was little, use it well.

Harry this is the second to last thing that I'm going to talk to you about, your inheritance from me. Firstly, as I am sure that you would have received a letter from the Goblins by now, know that I was Lord Black, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. This means that I had a lot of money, a lot being a far understated term in this case, and have several properties around the world, aside from a few bequeaths I'm leaving it all to you Harry. The fortune the houses the title, everything, I want you to be able to do do whatever you want, support a family, buy a quidditch team, hell buy all the quidditch team, be yourself Harry. Be Harry Potter.

Finally there is only one last give this old Marauder can give you, I found some people Harry, they are relatives of yours, oldrelatives, I haven't mentioned anything before because I was trying to get to know them. Don't judge them Harry, you looked past Remus' exterior and made friends with him, give them a chance, they should be contacting you this summer.

I love you son

Sirius 'Padfoot' Black

Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black

Marauder

P.S You will find out more of what I know at the will reading, there was too much to put in a letter.

S.B

Harry let the tears flow, to have the comfort of having his godfather tell him that he loved him, even if it was only though letter form, was something that eased the burden on his soul. Wiping his eyes he saw something that chilled the blood in his veins, even more so that hearing about the possible manipulation of the interfering headmaster. A tall dark cloaked figure was moving down the pathway that lead to the front door, a figure with the hood of their cloak raised hiding their face. Grabbing his wand he dashed out of the room, not noticing that the door opened itself via a feat of wandless magic.

Pertunia Dursley heard the doorbell ring and got up to answer it, ready to give whoever was calling at this ungodly hour of the night a piece of her mind, she had just gotten Vernon settled after he disciplined the freak and she too was ready to sit down and enjoy her evening, and now some caller was here to disturb her.

Opening the door she prepared to tell the person standing there to leave when the breath stilled in her throat. She wanted to scream but no sound came out, and then the figure spoke to her in such a deep melodious voice she couldn't help but obey.

"Mrs Dursley, can you please step aside? I am here to speak to one Mr Potter if he is available."

Pertunia couldn't speak, all she could do was move out of the figure's way "Stop right there, who are you?" came a voice from the top of the stairs, and their stood Harry, blood still staining his shirtless torso, and his wand pointing unwaveringly at the intruder.

The cloaked figures hands moved to his hood and lowered the cloth so his face could be seen. Harry gasped, there stood a tall figure with long white hair tied in a ponytail, strong although young aristocratic features, and faintly glowing golden eyes, and shockingly white skin.

"Hello Harry" the man said "My name is Lucian Von Mandrell, and we are cousins of sorts."

Harry was shocked and the only words that could come out of his mouth were "You are not human are you?"

The only response was a slightly flaring in Lucian's eyes, as though lit by a golden flame and a smirk the spoke of unfathomable knowledge. No one moved, not even Vernon who had managed to drag his bulk from the family room to see what was taking his wife so long.

Lucian appeared to notice Harry's emaciated form along with his injuries and he sent a withering glare at the two Dursley's that made their blood run cold and a shiver run donw their spines.

"Harry, we need to talk. There are things that you must know, about your heritage, about your family and about your destiny."

A/N There we have it, the first chapter of my new story, please leave me a review I love hearing from anyone who reads my stuff. Please no flames but constructive criticism is always appreciated. Thanks again TBK