Chapter 2

Disclaimer:

This story is based on the Harry Potter series belonging exclusively to J.K. Rowling and her publishers, and no profit is made from it.

Harry looked up from the letter and gulped.

"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school," said Uncle Vernon, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes. "Forgot to mention it…. Slipped your mind, I daresay…."

He was bearing down on Harry like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared. "Well, I've got news for you, boy…. I'm locking you up…. You're never going back to that school…never…and if you try and magic yourself out-they'll expel you!"

And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Harry back upstairs.

(Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, chapter 2, page 21, US version)

Uncle Vernon shoved Harry roughly into his room and with one last parting smirk, shut the door and locked it harshly. Harry could hear him huffing down the stairs and then his gruff voice as he comforted Aunt Petunia.

For a moment, all Harry could do was stare blankly around at his bedroom, allowing himself to process everything that had happened in the past few hours. He did not doubt that Uncle Vernon was telling the truth. Now that he knew that Harry could not defend himself, he would imprison him in this bedroom and limit him to the most basic necessities. He had done it often enough before Harry had received his Hogwarts letter, locking him in the cupboard for weeks at a time and only letting him out to go to the bathroom.

But, back then, Harry had no friends to miss, no life to regret not living.

If he didn't do something quickly, find some way to get out of here, he would never return to Hogwarts and never see Ron and Hermione again. But the door was locked, and the only way he knew to open it was with magic,and he couldn't do any of that without his wand, and it was locked in the cupboard under the stairs with all his other magical things. Even if he somehow managed to retrieve it and used it to escape, the Ministry would expel him before he could explain.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh and collapsed onto his bed. He could hear the sounds of gunshots and squealing car tires from the T.V. downstairs. Mr. Stevens, who lived across the street, was taking out the trash, the plastic containers shuffling roughly across the gravel. Harry got up to watch him. He had stopped to yell at a man who had left his dog's mess in the middle of the sidewalk.

He couldn't go back to this life, this meaningless, bitter life, without magic, without anyone who cared about him. He wouldn't. There must be some other way. If he could get out of this room, then maybe he could figure out a way to send a message to the Weasleys, or, better yet, to call Hermione.

He broke into a smile for the first time in weeks. Dobby would probably intercept any magical type of communication, but he hadn't stopped Ron from calling earlier in the summer, and if he could just get to a phone and call Hermione…

Harry appraised the area outside his window more closely. It was a fifteen-foot drop, too far to jump, but if he was very careful, he could swing himself onto the porch roof and find some way to get down from there. But once he did get down, how was he going to ever get to his trunk? The Dursleys always locked the front door before going to bed.

His neighbor was still arguing with the dog walker. They were both yelling and gesturing emotionally while the man's bored German shepherd sniffed the Stevens' roses.

He looked to be around forty, good-looking in an intelligent, sophisticated, mature way. He was dressed nicely in a dark blue button down shirt with rolled up sleeves, beige corduroy pants, and brown dress shoes. He had neatly trimmed facial hair and wore a black fedora. During a pause in his tirade, when he had accepted a baggie from Mr. Stevens and was bending to scoop, his dark eyes met Harry's, and he winked at him.

Actually winked!

Then he twitched his sleeve slightly and an inch of polished dark wood slipped into his hand. Harry's eyes widened and he leaned as far out of the window as he could without falling into Aunt Petunia's hydrangea bush.

A wizard! A wizard, in Little Whinging. It was unbelievable. He doubted that there had been any others since Dumbledore left him here as an infant, and to be doing something so normal as walking a dog…

But, perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised. Dumbledore was an influential wizard, wasn't he? Maybe he had somehow heard of the Ministry letter and had sent someone to check on him, or maybe the Ministry itself wanted to monitor his behavior more closely, in case they needed to expel him. Whoever he was, though, he might be able to help Harry escape, or at least contact the Weasleys for him. It crossed his mind briefly that this wizard might somehow be connected to the danger that Dobby had mentioned, but he dismissed it immediately. Dobby was irrationally paranoid, and this man certainly seemed harmless. He even had a feather sticking out of the side of his fedora.

Harry flung himself into the seat at his desk and scribbled a quick note describing the situation and pleading for the stranger's help. Then, the paper scrunched into the hood of one of Dudley's broken toy cars, he turned to the window, to throw it to the man, but the street was empty. Both the wizard and Mr. Stevens had disappeared. Harry banged his fist against the windowsill in frustration and chucked the car at one of Mr. Stevens' trashcans anyway. It wouldn't do any good now, but he was too agitated to care.

His earlier burst of optimism had died out and his plan to leap across the side of the house seeming more and more idiotic. Harry glared at his locked bedroom door. If only he could pick locks! Fred and George probably knew how. If he ever got back to the magical world, he would be sure to ask them to teach him.

He turned off his desk light and slumped into the narrow bed. Hopefully, the wizard had realized some extent of Harry's predicament, although how he had no idea, and would return to rescue him. If not, then maybe Dumbledore would come when he didn't show up for the start of the school year. If only he had shouted at the man, or done something…

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by the soft thud of something landing on the sheets next to him. He felt around for a moment before his right hand touched the cool metal of Dudley's tiny red Chevy. He hurried over to his desk and switched the light on again, popping the hood open as he did so. His note was still there, but someone had responded on the other side.

I understand and will help as much as I can. Be ready. I will come when your Aunt and Uncle have gone to bed.

-An old friend and ally

Harry felt let out a sight of delighted relief and quickly checked the window to see if the man was outside. He was there, standing beneath a dusty streetlight, but he was now without his dog. When he saw Harry, he gave him an exaggerated then apparated away with a soft pop. Harry's heart beat unsteadily in his chest as he gathered his muggle clothes into a pile on his bed and wrapped the sheet around them. It was almost ten O'clock now. The Dursleys would go to sleep at exactly eleven. He went around his room and stuffed the few possessions that the Dursleys hadn't locked up into the bundle on his bed. When he had finished and the room was completely devoid of Harry Potter clutter, it was 10:05, so he sat down impatiently at his desk to wait. He frowned enviously at Hedwig who was still sleeping soundly in her cage. She hadn't stirred once since before Dobby arrived.

The program downstairs had changed to something quieter, and Dudley soon came up to play one of his videogames. Harry wandered restlessly over to the bookshelf and grabbed Dudley's discarded copy of Treasure Island to pass the time.

Just as expected, at precisely eleven O'clock, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon came trundling upstairs, and with a quick goodnight to Dudley, entered their bedroom. Five minutes later, heavy snores reverberated from both sides of the house.

Harry stood expectantly. There was a light tapping on his bedroom door. He hadn't heard any footsteps.

"Come in."

There was a click as the lock was undone, the door swung open, and the wizard entered with a flourish.

"Harry Potter," he stretched his hand out for Harry to shake, "it's a pleasure."

Harry shook his hand, feeling uncomfortable. He still wasn't accustomed to how people reacted to him the first time they met him.

"Umm…it's nice to meet you too, sir."

The man was watching Harry carefully. Harry just smiled and nodded politely, unsure of what he should say. The man seemed much thinner up close, almost emaciated, and his face was gaunt and shadowed. He looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. If Harry were honest with himself, he found it a little bit intimidating.

"What happened to your dog?"

"Oh," He smiled wickedly, "you mean the Shepherd." He shook his head at Harry. "That was no dog, but rather a transfigured house mouse. Quite well done I must say, except for his tendency to spontaneously leave droppings everywhere, as you saw for yourself. It got your attention though, didn't it?"

He regarded Harry with amusement for a moment, but when he noticed that his attention was making Harry uncomfortable, he focused on the sheet-encased mound on the bed.

"So, I see you have all your things together."

"Uh…yeah…well, everything except my school books and cauldron. They're locked up in the cupboard under the stairs."

Sirius frowned understandingly at him.

"After tonight, you won't ever have to return to this place again."

His voice was calm and deeply confidant, his eyes locked with Harry's.

"I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, leaving you with them…"

Before Harry could stop him, he poked menacingly at Harry's sheet mound and it shrunk to the size of a grapefruit.

"What did you do that for?" Harry looked angrily at Sirius, and he looked blankly back.

Then, with a raised eyebrow he said, "Well, obviously, because it makes it easier to carry. Everything would have fallen out if I had just tried to lift it with that flimsy knot you tied-no offence."

"Didn't you read my note!? I got in trouble with the Ministry because a house elf did a hovering charm here, and they thought it was me. They threatened to expel me if there was any more magic done here. You were supposed to help me, not get me expelled!"

He looked expressionlessly at Harry for a moment and then burst into laughter. Harry was more than a little offended by the inappropriate emotion and briefly worried that the noise would wake Aunt Petunia and Uncle Dursley. That's all he needed now, for them to come in here and gloat and tell him once more how much a failure he was and then maybe what freaks his parents had been.

"Don't worry kid. As soon as the Ministry realizes that I'm the one doing the magic, they'll have more important things to worry about than expelling you."

What was that supposed to mean?

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He looked grimly at Harry for the first time.

"Harry, I…there's something I need to tell you before you agree to leave with me, because, once I do, I don't think you're going to want to be anywhere near me."

He was gripping the doorknob tensely, as though preparing to flee as soon as he had spoken.

"My name is Sirius Black." He paused here, watching Harry warily as though he expected him to react in some way.

"Y-you haven't heard of me?"

"Uh, sorry, but, no. I've only just entered the wizarding world, you see. That's one reason I'm so eager to stay in it. There's a lot I don't know."

The man, Black, seemed to be debating what to say next, but then, in a soft, croaky voice he said, "I-I'm your godfather, Harry."

"What? No, no that's not right." This didn't make any sense. "If I had a godfather, if you were my godfather, then surely someone…Dumbledore would have told me. I wouldn't have had to live with them my whole life. I-I would've…."

Black looked sadly at him, hopelessly shaking his head. "I'm so sorry Harry. I never meant to leave you, but I didn't have a choice. Please, please believe me."

Anger was steadily replacing disbelief.

"You're not kidding, are you? This is for real. I…why didn't anyone ever tell me? Why didn't you ever visit me? All this time, I could have lived with you, instead of…" He gestured vaguely at the wall. "…Instead of with them."

"Harry, I swear to you, I wanted to, I wanted to so badly. I thought of you all the time: what had happened to you, what you might look like, who might be taking care of you instead of me. I never imagined that Dumbledore would bring you here, though. I wanted so bad to be there for you Harry, I really did, but I couldn't, not until now, I couldn't…"

"Why not?! You could have at least sent me a letter, or something, a quick phone call, you know. I don't need much. I've learned to be self-sufficient, I've had to, living with the Dursleys."

"Because…because, for the past eleven years, I've been locked away…in Azkaban."

"Where?"

"Azkaban. It's the wizarding prison."

"So, what, you're some kind of criminal?" Harry was nonplussed. Maybe this was the Dursleys' idea of a sick joke, to punish him even more for not being able to do magic. It did make a bizarre kind of sense, that if there were link to his parents it would be in the form of a mad escaped convict. It fit the pattern of his life.

"No!" Black darted toward Harry, his hands reaching out to him, but at Harry's startled look, he paused. "I'm innocent. I was framed Harry, you've got to understand."

Harry couldn't take much more of this. It had been an emotionally exhausting night, and he felt as though if he were told anything more, he would burst. His eyes flicked to Black's clothing, his feathered mobster hat, and suddenly he looked ridiculous, a mockery of his words.

"If you just escaped from prison, they why are you wearing those clothes. They don't exactly seem like standard prison uniform."

Black was legitimately flummoxed, and then obviously embarrassed.

"Well, I had to steal them, didn't I? I couldn't go around in the tattered robes I was wearing. They would have discovered me, and then, what would have been the point of escaping. I'm not proud of what I've done Harry, but I didn't commit the crime that I was imprisoned for."

"Why should I believe anything you say?"

"If I had wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already. You're unarmed and virtually untrained."

Harry fidgeted. That certainly didn't make him feel anymore secure. Black tried again, gaining momentum as he spoke.

"Your parents trusted me, enough to make me your godfather. I was friends with them at school, your father's best mate. When your parents got married, he chose me as his best man. I was the third person to hold you as a baby, the one who convinced your dad to buy you your very first broomstick. They loved you so much Harry. I wish you could know that."

Harry didn't know what to say. There was a part of him, a very large and Hermione-like part, that was screaming at him not to trust the escaped and possibly deranged convict, but another, growing part was urging him to trust him, to just…go with it. He had always fantasized about a long lost family member to sweep him away from the Dursleys, and although he had imagined that it would be someone more like Arthur Weasley than a recently escaped convict, it was what it was.

Besides, he looked so desperate that Harry couldn't help feeling sorry for him.

"Please…believe me…" Sirius clenched his fists and looked around frantically. "Can't you just believe that I would never hurt you? I don't have any proof now, but I can get it…if you'll just come with me. I promise I won't hurt you. That's the last thing I'd do…"

Harry's first reaction was a vehement no. Even if he was a friend of his dad's, maybe he had betrayed them and that's why he was in prison in the first place…but if he stayed, he would be locked up again in this tiny bedroom, never to see Ron or Hermione, or anyone magical ever again. He would rather face the unknown than that horrible fate.

"Alright."

Black took a step back in surprise, his eyes wide.

"I'll come with you, but on one condition. Promise, if for whatever reason I decide to leave, you'll let me, without trying to stop me."

Black grinned at him.

"I'll do better than that." He grabbed Harry's hand and raised his wand above it.

"I solemnly swear, upon my life, upon Merlin and the Marauders, that I shall never consciously hurt Harry James Potter and that, should he ever wish to leave my company, I shall let him go freely." He tapped Harry's hand, and he could feel a burst of something in his chest telling him that the magic was true.

"So, um…did you have some plan for getting us out of here?"

Black was still somewhat gaping at Harry, and it was unsettling, to say the least.

"Yeah…I have a, a uh, a portkey, somewhere in here." He rummaged through his pockets for a moment and finally pulled out a crumpled candy wrapper. "Ah, here it is."

"A candy wrapper." Harry was beginning to question Black's sanity in addition to his innocence.

"What, haven't you ever seen a portkey?" Harry shook his head.

"Well, they're a bit unpleasant at first, but you'll get used to it, and they go much farther distances than apparition."

"Where, exactly, are we going?"

"Oh, just an old family property." Harry wondered whether he was being purposefully vague. Black had grabbed both Harry's handful of laundry and Hedwig's cage and swiftly moved out into the hall. Harry was quick to follow. This wizard might have his eccentricities, but anything was better than life at Four Privet Drive, and no matter where they were headed, at least it couldn't be worse than life with the Dursleys.

By the time Harry caught up with Black, he had already unlocked the cupboard under the stairs and unloaded Harry's trunk. He glanced up at Harry as he stepped off the stairs.

"Do you mind if I open your truck for a second…just to put this in." He gestured at the sheet lump. Harry shook his head, and he quickly dropped the package into Harry's trunk.

"Alright," he said, standing and facing Harry, "whenever you're ready…" He held the empty candy wrapper up to Harry.

"Can I just…if you expect me to trust you, then you should at least let me get my wand."

"Of course." Black stepped aside and allowed Harry access to his trunk. He snatched it out quickly and pushed it up his shirtsleeve as he had seen Black do earlier.

"So, if you're ready now, just grab hold of the wrapper and make sure that you've got a good hold on your trunk…there, that's right."

Black smiled at Harry as they grasped the two ends of the small piece of plastic, their hands bumping awkwardly together, and he couldn't help but smile back, despite the strangeness of the situation.

"Ready?" Harry nodded, and Black, holding Hedwig's cage clutched under his elbow, tapped the candy wrapper lightly with his wand.

A/N

Thanks to Ilene, ams71080, adenoide, xdreamlessxvoyeurx for reviewing, and for everyone else just for reading. I hope that neither Sirius or Harry come across as too OOC in this chapter.