A/N This book begins at the end of Harry's third year and without giving to much away this fanfic will divert from the cannon story fairly quickly, without spoiling to much I can tell you that there will be a Harry/Daphne pairing later into the book, but elements such as the Triwizard tournament and the DA will stay the same. But the major difference will be Sirius become a pseudo-father to Harry.

Hope you enjoy and please leave reviews, it is the best thing you can do to support a writer.

July 2nd 1994, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, England

Despite it being august, the night was as cold as any other winter night, but whilst the cold night was a break from the normal routine for most of Privet Drive, the night was the same as all the others for one boy. And that boy was Harry Potter.

His second-hand room in the Dursley's house was beginning to look slightly better than it had done in previous years. Harry now had an alarm clock by the side of his bed, displaying the time 5:29 AM. Some of Dudley's junk had been sold or thrown out meaning there was now a little more space in the room, not much but enough. His trunk was still packed and shoved into a corner of the room. The walls had also been repainted from the sickly peach that Aunt Petunia chose. To a much nicer pale blue. His window was now replaced rather than the metal bars which had confined him over the previous year's summer.

Whilst most of the street were shivering from the cold, Harry shivered from his fears, it was another nightmare. Ever since he had felt the dementors, every night had been a battle just to get himself to fall asleep whilst the horrible thoughts of the previous years plagued his mind.

It had been the worst year yet, and the cruellest. He had been given the opportunity for a better life, one without the Dursley's, a life where he could live with another wizard, Sirius Black. All Harry had ever wanted was a real family, and there was his opportunity for one, and to hear stories of his parents that no one else would tell him. Had he not been tortured enough already in life. In one move everything he had ever wanted had been ripped out of his hands, the rat had simultaneously stolen an innocent man's opportunity for freedom and crushed Harry's heart.

It was what he had thought about every night since it happened, the way the Dementor's made him feel as if someone had stabbed him with a dagger forged from ice. The way his heart ached for a real family. The way he felt he should have done something differently, how if he had done things right then Sirius wouldn't be imprisoned. Why did he allow himself to get sucked into his dreams when he should have focused on making that dream a reality? Why wasn't he looking at Pettigrew? He knew that he was an Animagus, and he could have transformed. Or why didn't they chain him a way that made his transformation was useless.

He had nearly died that night, he had nearly gotten Sirius killed to, and his friends.

There was one hope for Harry though, he had found a letter lying on his bed in the cramped second room of the Dursley's house once he had returned to his room. The envelope was in poor condition, and there was something bulging out of the envelope. Inside had been a Hippogriff feather and a scrap of paper saying, "Be ready. I'm coming. 6AM sharp."

Then the alarm clock next to the bed started to beep, it was 5:30, half an hour before the letter said he would arrive. Harry quickly darted out of his bed and silenced the alarm before any of the Dursley's could hear it and get angry with him. Harry took a long and deep breath. He was still shaking.

That nightmare had been the worst yet, he was completely frozen still as the dementors swarmed Harry and Sirius laying down, he couldn't do anything. The hooded creatures made everything around them freeze. But this time there was no Patronus to save the day. He had to sit and watch as Sirius Black had his soul sucked out of him for the Dementor's meal. It had felt as if Sirius' screams were being carved into his skin, making a mark that he could never forget.

Harry moved himself to the newly replaced window that was hanging open, but the chill of the night did nothing to drag Harry's thoughts away from the nightmare. Surely this year would be no better. How could he hope for a normal year when every year he got dragged into battles against Dark Wizards or was in constant fear of a mislabelled mass murderer. Who knew how many times the student population would turn on him this year, he could go from the hero who saved the day to a muggleborn killer in the blink of an eye. He could go from someone who killed a 70ft tall basilisk but the next day he couldn't walk to a village without parental permission.

He closed his eyes tightly. He was doing everything he could to stop the tears rolling down his face. He was so weak. He got lucky year after year or got carried by his friends to another supposed victory. A victory that drained him mentally.

Harry glanced up to the sky and saw the moon shining down on his face. He had to fight to stop himself thinking about the full moon which had ruined a potential future. He tried again to stop the tears. But they just kept coming. Eventually he just fell into a state of despair, he lost all track of consciousness and just sat with his misery.