Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Shorts

Wow. It's been much longer for me since I've last updated anything than I normally ever go. School started, and then my old computer died, so posting on this one is a little bit different, so I just...haven't. I've hardly written, though luckily I have actually done some writing.

Here's the chapter we get to see Harry. I hope you all are excited! (I am)

Chapter Nine: Lightning's Kiss

Every neighborhood has that one odd person on the street, that one house full of secrets, that mysterious old dog that wanders from house to house. Every neighborhood is unique. In the case of Privet Drive, that one odd house was that of number four. From first glance, the family that lived there was as normal as could be. In fact, to the Dursleys, all they ever wanted to be was completely normal. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were two people that would never stand for nonsense.

The oddity was certainly not them or their spoiled son, Dudley, but a small dark haired boy who also lived there. In fact, he was the reason Mr. and Mrs. Dursley tried to act so normal. Because if there was a word to describe Harry Potter, it was not normal. At the age of one his parents died and he was left on the Dursleys' doorstep. The Dursleys, who hated abnormality, tried to hide him away, forcing him to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. He wore overly baggy clothes that were once his cousin's, he had a mop of black hair that stuck out in every direction, and he had a peculiar lightning bolt scar.

Harry had always made odd things happen. He once turned his teacher's wig blue. Just because of that, the boy was sentenced to a week in his cupboard. The black-haired boy grew out his hair over night to avoid being laughed at the next day. He accidently levitated himself onto the roof of the school building running from Dudley and his gang…The list goes on and on.

Harry had a long, thin face with a straight nose. He was very small for his age, and he had a large pair of round glasses, taped together numerous times from where Dudley punched him on the nose, that obscured bright green eyes. But one thing about his appearance made him additionally strange, and that was a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. It was the one thing about his appearance that the boy really liked. He had it for as long as he could remember, and the first question he ever remembered asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."

Don't ask questions—that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Still, although his aunt said that the scar was a result of a jagged shaped, stray piece of glass, Harry dreamed that it had a different origin. Sometimes when he thought about it, he would see a flash of green light—he didn't like that light, but assumed that it was from a traffic light. Since the green light was unpleasant, Harry made up his own stories for the scar—his favorite being the one that it was a result of a kiss on the forehead from a lightning spirit. He never told his relatives his secret stories. That was another rule that was pivotal in the Dursley household—any talk of anything strange, magical, or mystical was doubly forbidden.

But, Harry soon found his life changing. Those rules were forgotten, and it all started with the strange man that came to visit.

*~B~*

With Pollux's decreasing health, the entire family was reminded of how limited on time all of the Blacks were—they were all beginning to get quite old, and the Blacks did not have the best track record for producing wizards with exceptionally long lifespans. Because of this, and the worry of Arcturus's death, Regulus finally began looking into the circumstances of his brother's condemnation.

He knew that the family wanted Regulus to be the Head of Family following Arcturus's death, but he also knew that the magic would not recognize Regulus as Heir until Sirius was dead. Since he also knew that Sirius was innocent—or he was at least highly certain—he wanted his brother to inherit the well-deserved title.

As Winter melted into Spring, Regulus's first order in business was a visit to the ministry. In the company of his paternal grandfather, the Black asked the people that had been involved what had happened. He was told by Madam Bones of Fudge's account of that night—Sirius's mad cackle of his best friend's death, and the street of Muggles being blown up. She also told him of Barty Crouch Sr.'s policy of throwing the more dangerous Death Eaters in prison to await a trial.

Regulus saw one obvious flaw—his brother did not have a Dark Mark, so really he should not have been sent to the prison in the first place. However, he would have to do this delicately. Sirius had been in prison for nine years now. No one in the Wizarding World questioned his guilt. His name was used as a bogey-man to scare children into compliance.

The young man knew that he could have Sirius freed easily, but his brother would still be reviled by the public. Knowing that Sirius Black had not been a Death Eater, and therefore had more than likely not betrayed his best friends, Regulus knew that he could to prove Sirius's innocence to the world. Instead of being seen as a pureblood abusing power, he would be seen as a poor lost, mistreated lamb.

Regulus's second order of business was a visit to Gringotts to check over his brother's inheritance. While he was there, he poked through the Black vaults a bit. Then, he asked the goblins about his brother's properties. One thing that sparked Regulus's interest on the list he was handed was the wills of James and Lily Potter.

Regulus, of course, knew about their deaths. He also knew that their son had allegedly defeated the Dark Lord. Curious, the young man had the goblins read the will to him. Afterwards, he was very glad he had. Stated very clearly in the will was that upon his parents death, Harry should be entrusted to either his godmother, Alice Longbottom, or his godfather—Sirius Black.

*~B~*

The moment Regulus told his family about the will, the Blacks went wild. Once more, they gathered together in order to squabble excitedly amongst themselves. Like before, Arcturus and Melania were there, the former in charge of the meeting. Pollux, Irma, Cassiopeia, Cygnus, Druella, and Narcissa were also there. The only difference was that this time, both Regulus and Marius were present.

Regulus, because it was he that had made the discovery about Harry Potter. Marius, on the other hand, was there as the boy's great-uncle.* Although he would have no say in the meeting, he too was intrigued.

Once again, as they argued, their voices overlapped each other.

"If he's been left to the Longbottoms, we can't just take him!" Melania exclaimed.

"She is correct," Pollux wheezed. "As loathe as I am to admit it, it would be quite difficult to wrangle my great-nephew from such a prestigious family."

"No one has seen the Longbottoms in nine years," Druella pointed out. "They must be hiding something."

"We still do not know for sure of anything," Narcissa pointed out. "Much less where the boy was placed."

"Well I think we should have rights to the boy," Marius grouched. "He is related to us by blood, after all."

"Why don't we figure out where he is and then worry about obtaining him?" Regulus asked.

"I agree with my nephew," Cassie said. "We need to figure out what happened that night."

"Seconded," Arcturus raised a hand.

"It's decided?" Pollux asked. "Very well, then."

They all seemed satisfied with their current course of action.

*~B~*

After an in-depth investigation that required all the finesse of a Black, they discovered that Harry had in fact been taken by Dumbledore after the death of his parents. On paper it made sense—the boy's godfather had been thrown in Azkaban and, after much inquiry, it was discovered that Alice and Frank Longbottom had been hospitalized. But, being the lead dark family, they knew that the man must have had an ulterior motive to becoming the boy's guardian.

One obvious one was that as the boy's guardian, Dumbledore gained the right to vote in the Potter's seat in Wizenagamot. Another good reason was that he had access to, and by extent could control, the Boy-Who-Lived—the Wizarding World's most iconic present figure.

The only problem was figuring out exactly where Harry had been placed. They knew that he wasn't with the Chief Warlock himself, nor any of the Hogwarts staff. Dumbledore had no relatives, so it was safe to assume that Harry might have been placed with his own relatives. Unfortunately for Dumbledore, the boy's only living wizarding relations were the Blacks. Which left the Muggle world. As they came to this conclusion, the Blacks realized that it made the most sense—it would keep the boy out of the public eye until he came to Hogwarts. It was effective for both protecting the boy and controlling who he interacted with.

After further digging, they discovered that Harry's Muggleborn mother had one living relative—her sister Petunia. They knew that that must be where the boy was. They knew that Dumbledore had more than likely employed some sort of protection on the boy's residence, and that the Blacks would certainly not gain access to the address through the Wizarding World, so with Marius's help they found the address of one Petunia Dursley by Muggle means.

*~B~*

Regulus rang the doorbell of number four, Privet Drive. The young man waited on the porch impatiently, leaning forward from his heels to his toes. Then, the door opened. The black-haired man was greeted by a tall thin woman who had large hands and a horse-like face. Slightly behind her stood her whale of a son who looked to be about Helvetica's age.

"Welcome, Mr. Black," the woman—most likely Petunia Dursley—said.

"May I take your coat?" the son asked. There was a tone of arrogance and boredom underneath his polite act.

Regulus took his traveling coat off to reveal the suit he had worn to the Muggle restaurant. Petunia ushered him into their home and to the sitting room. The first thing he noticed was that despite the three Dursleys being present, their nephew, Harry Potter, was nowhere to be found.

"Please make yourself comfortable," she said.

Then, Vernon walked in and shook his hand. Regulus resisted the urge to wipe it on his shirt. Instead of sitting, as the Dursleys did, Regulus remained standing.

"I came to talk about Black Inc.'s proposition," he said. "At Black Inc. we make a product called the Black Box, which is able to do practically everything. It has been widely popular in the United States of America, and we were wishing to expand into the United Kingdom."

Regulus took a Black Box out of his pocket that Marius had given him and showed it to the Dursleys. Then, he turned it on and played a commercial for the Black Box. He continued explaining what Marius had told him about the Black Box and the story he and relative—with the help of Marius—had set up. Then, as it started getting late, Vernon said, "Look at the time! Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Regulus, who had expected (and initially planned) for this, agreed readily. As they sat down at the dinner table, Regulus took note of the many pictures of the Dursleys' son. There was not a single picture of a boy that resembled the Blacks in the slightest. Deciding to probe, he gestured to one of the pictures.

"What a fine son you have," he said politely. "Do you have any other children?"

"Oh, no," Vernon replied with a chuckle. "It's just Dudley."

"What about other family?"

"I have a sister, Marge," Vernon answered.

"She breeds bulldogs," Petunia said.

"Really?" Regulus asked, feigning interest. "How interesting."

"Yes, she often brings one or two over while she visits," Petunia stated. "I, of course, have no siblings but Dudley is quite happy with his one aunt."

Regulus's eyes hardened when he realized that Petunia didn't admit to having a sister, but the Muggles didn't notice. It seemed that the Muggles didn't want to accept any magical family. Petunia served them pork chops a moment later along with a glass of wine. After he finished his glass, Regulus asked, "May I use your facilities?"

The Dursleys looked surprised a moment before Petunia said, "Of course. The bathroom is upstairs; the first door on the left."

The dark haired man nodded and excused himself from the table. He set out to poke around the house as quickly as he could. He grimaced as he went back out into the hallway and headed for the staircase. The young man would have to do this carefully so that the Muggles did not throw him out before he found anything of value. However, he soon found that he had no need to worry.

As he passed the cupboard under the stairs, he heard a cough which was followed by a gasp and a small scuffling sound. Regulus stopped and looked at the cupboard. Did he really just hear someone inside it? The young man squatted down to where he was level with the cupboard. Then, he pulled the door open.

What Regulus saw inside was certainly not what he had expected. Inside the dark cupboard was a small boy. He was curled up in the back of the confined space with his head tucked in between his knees.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon," the boy said in a weak voice. "I didn't mean to make a noise. Please don't hit me."

"I'm not going to hit you," Regulus replied softly.

The boy looked up in shock to see not Vernon, as he had expected, but a strange man. The man that he knew Vernon was trying to impress. The boy tried to press himself more firmly into the wall behind him. His eyes were fixed on Regulus with fear.

"Don't worry," Regulus said in a tone that he often used to comfort Kreacher. "I won't hurt you. Can you come out?" The boy shook his head. "Why not?"

"Not allowed," he replied quietly.

"Well, what's your name?"

"Harry," the boy said quickly before diverting his eyes from the young man.

Regulus reached inside the cupboard and scooped Harry out. As the boy stood up, his fringe parted to reveal the infamous lightning bolt scar. Regulus glanced inside the cupboard to see a thin mattress that the boy had been sleeping on. The Black looked Harry up and down, noting that he looked more like a seven-year-old than the nine-year-old boy he was. He was even smaller than Helvetica had been when he had first seen her.

Regulus then bent over to where he was at eye level with the boy.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Come with you?" Harry asked incredulously. "Where?"

"To live with me. You would never have to see your—relatives again."

"Never?" Harry breathed.

"Never."

Harry paused, looking around before whispering, "Yes."

"Okay, then!" Regulus said, taking Harry's hand.

Then, he returned to where the Dursleys were sitting.

"I will be taking Harry with me," he stated.

Instantly, Vernon was on his feet. A vein was pulsing in his forehead from anger.

"You can't—!"

"I think I can," Regulus replied. "I am his uncle, after all."

He handed the obese pig's wife a formal sheet of parchment.

"Sign here," Regulus instructed her, quite glad he had brought custody papers with him. She signed it obligingly, as she noticed the mildly threatening tone he used. As Regulus took Harry's hand and opened the front door to the Dursley residence, Vernon asked, "You're one of their lot aren't you?" he asked.

Correctly guessing that "their lot" meant wizarding kind, Regulus replied, "Yes, and if you tell anyone about this, I will turn all three of you into the pigs you are."

And with that, he and Harry left Privet Drive, never to return again.

*~B~*

When they arrived in Grimmauld Place, it was rather late. Regulus glanced in the sitting room to find it empty—he assumed that Helvetica and Cassie were going through their usual evening ritual. Regulus knew that Helvetica loved Cassie fussing over her very much, happy to get attention that she missed as a child. Briefly, Regulus wondered if he should start his own bed time ritual with Harry—perhaps he could read to the boy.

The young man shook these thoughts off and herded Harry to his new room. He was glad that the boy had come to the townhouse now, and not several years earlier. Helvetica had insisted that the elf heads be taken down, and Regulus thought that Harry would have been traumatized by the shriveled heads.

Harry's room was the guest room beside Helvetica's. The family had remodeled it, styling it much like his cousin's, only with green accents instead of pink. There were already new clothes for the boy in the wardrobe and dresser as well. There were robes in the wardrobe, and nightgowns in the dresser, along with play clothes that Helvetica had picked out, insisting that the boy needed some.

They made it to the second landing, and Harry's bright green eyes fixated on the plaque that read, "Helvetica's Room" with curiosity. Deeming to leave explanations and introductions for the morning, Regulus herded him passed it and to the door next door. On it was a brand new plaque that said, "Harry's Room."

"I have my own room?" the boy asked. "Upstairs?"

"Of course," Regulus replied. "Go on in."

The boy hesitantly opened the door and peeked inside. Then, he eased his slim body through the cracked door. Regulus followed. Harry took in the room with amazement. He gasped at the four poster canopy bed with green drapes, inspected the black wallpaper and carpet, and drug his feet across the green rug. He glanced at the thick green curtains that hung over the window and inspected the dark furniture. Above the dresser was a shelf full of old magical toys that Kreacher had found around the house, and a bunch of child-safe books.

"It's wonderful!" Harry finally exclaimed, throwing his arms around his uncle's middle. Regulus was surprised. It was a very different reaction than the one that Helvetica had had. She had been so solemn and unhappy with everything when she had first moved to Britain. Harry, on the other hand, seemed very glad that he was away from his relatives. Regulus hugged him back, knowing that those people had hell to pay for what they did to an innocent wizarding child, and Harry let go.

"There are clothes in the dresser that you might want to wear," Regulus informed him. "For now, you can change into your nightclothes."

"All right," the boy grinned.

Regulus left the room to allow the boy to change in privacy and leaned against the railing of the hallway. Minutes later, the door opened again to reveal Harry in a white night gown that nearly reached his ankles. He was messing with the sleeves and touching the fabric. The boy gave Regulus a dubious look.

"I'm sure they're probably not what you're used to," Regulus said, "but it's what we have."

His aunt probably would have given the poor boy a spiel on proper pureblood dress and etiquette, but the young man's answer seemed to have satisfied the boy, for he smiled warmly and said, "That's all right. I'll get used to it."

"Now," Regulus said. "Let's get you ready for bed."

He had the boy brush his teeth, and then saw him to bed. Instinctively, he began tucking the boy in, brushing back his unruly black locks with a single hand. He turned to make his way out of the room, and caught sight of a book on the shelf—it was the Tales of Beetle the Bard, a book that Regulus had been read as a young child. Deciding that this boy deserved a good childhood, Regulus grabbed the book and brought it over to read the boy a story about Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump.

*A/N: I do realize that in canon, Harry's grandparents are Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, but for this story I needed him to have a deeper connection to the Blacks. Therefore, in this version of Harry Potter, the boy's grandparents are Charlus and Dorea Potter—nee Black.

After getting used to writing Draco and Helvetica, writing Harry felt very weird to me, to be honest. He is such a cinnamon roll, especially when he's young and innocent. Next up: Harry meets the cousins. *rubs hands together maniacally* Actually, it's not that eventful but it was fun. Don't forget to review! Let me know if I'm keeping the characters' personalities intact. ;)

~LittleMissMycroft