All We Need

AN:

This is my first ever fanfiction story so try not to judge the writing of it too harshly (I know it won't be great). Constructive criticism is welcome as I am looking to improve my writing skills, but please try not to comment any hate – if you don't like it, stop reading.

Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter; all rights and characters belong to JK Rowling.

Chapter 1 – A New Purpose

It was a dark Friday night in late October that found a nine year old boy by the name of Harry Potter sat on a swing, staring up at the sky. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight, but Harry shivered slightly in the cold autumn air. A passer-by might wonder why a young boy with unruly black hair and damaged glasses, who looked no older than seven or eight, was sat on his own in Little Whinging park at 11 o'clock at night, with not a parent in sight. Not only that, but sitting there in just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts which looked more like jogging bottoms on the scrawny boy. However, there were no passers-by at this time on such a cold night – Harry was completely and utterly alone.

The feeling of being alone was not a rare feeling for Harry, nor was it unwelcome given the company he had to endure most of the time he wasn't alone. Despite this, he couldn't help but feel lonely as he slowly swung back and forth on the swing.

He shouldn't even be out here in the park at night – if his 'family' found out they would be furious and throw him back into his cupboard with the promise of no meals for a week. Then again, they'd already done that earlier the very same day, so they'd probably decide to give him an even stricter punishment.

Earlier that day, at lunch time in his primary school, Harry had been running from his cousin Dudley and his gang, which was a very common occurrence in his life, when he'd suddenly found himself cornered between two walls and some bins. Knowing he had to somehow escape or hide, or else face another beating at the hands of his whale of a cousin, he tried to jump over some bins to hide behind them. However, something very strange happened: one moment he was leaping over the bins, and the next, he was landing on the roof of the school kitchens.

Harry for the life of him couldn't explain what had happened – he figured that some freak gust of wind had caught him mid-air and blown him onto the roof – he was certainly light enough for something like that to be possible. Unfortunately, the head teacher didn't seem to believe him and decided to inform Harry's Aunt Petunia that her nephew had been climbing school buildings.

His aunt had acted completely calm and reasonable in front of the head teacher but as soon as they had got home, she had snapped, shouted at her nephew and forced him to do some very unsavoury chores. Harry had obliged and got on with said chores while his aunt watched him smugly throughout, sipping her cup of tea.

That, Harry could deal with, even if it did fill him with hateful anger at his unfair aunt. It was his uncle's punishments that he dreaded most. As soon as his Uncle Vernon had walked through the door after finishing work at his drill company (Grunnings), his Aunt Petunia had loudly told him what had happened at school today and that was when Harry knew he was screwed.

His uncle had stormed over to him and roughly threw him to the ground before removing his belt and standing over Harry's prone form menacingly. The pudgy but strong man had delivered strike after strike after strike with the belt to Harry's body until Harry was left crying on the floor with horrible red welts all over his body. Vernon had then delivered a hard kick to his chest, where Harry felt some of his ribs crack, then grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and threw him roughly into his cupboard, whilst informing him he was allowed no meals for a week.

Harry had silently wept for hours, as his body shook with pain, both physical and emotional. Why did his aunt and uncle hate him while doting on his cousin? Why did he even still live with his aunt and uncle when they made it so clear they wanted him gone? What had he done to deserve this being his daily life?

Hours later Harry had heard his aunt, uncle and cousin going to bed. His injuries had healed over the last couple of hours – he didn't know how they did so – he was sure that cracked ribs were supposed to take far longer than a couple hours to heal, but his injuries always healed abnormally quickly. His aunt and uncle put it down to his 'freakishness'.

Harry waited another five minutes without hearing a sound to make sure they wouldn't be coming back downstairs, then as quietly as a mouse, he pushed open his cupboard door, closed it behind him and tiptoed towards the kitchen. Once he was inside, he set about grabbing some food for himself – he hadn't eaten anything since the half of a ham sandwich with no butter which had been his lunch for the day. Harry had become quite accomplished at discreetly stealing food in the last few years, then again it wasn't too difficult – if his Aunt Petunia noticed any food had gone missing, she just assumed her obese husband or son had eaten it. Harry grabbed a packet of crisps, a chocolate bar and a banana before silently letting himself out of the house.

Recently, Harry had begun sneaking out almost every night after his relatives were fast asleep. He did this for a number of reasons: one of these being that he didn't have to worry about eating quietly outside and another being that it just felt nice to be in the fresh air once in a while, as opposed to the stifling environment of his cupboard. However, the biggest reason for Harry was that it just felt good to go behind his relatives' backs and do what he wanted for a change, even if he had to face the consequences if he was caught.

So that was how Harry found himself sitting alone on a swing in Little Whinging park at 11 o'clock at night in late October. He had just finished his food and was now just having some time with his thoughts as he stared up at the sky and enjoyed the cold, starry night.

Should he just run away? He didn't know where he would go but anywhere would surely be better than having to endure constant neglect and beatings from the Dursleys. He wondered, as he had so often over the last few years of his life, if there was somebody, anybody out there who knew Harry and was trying to find him and rescue him. Surely he had to have some family members remaining besides the Dursleys – or even some friends of his parents before they died who knew of his existence and cared about him.

Harry shook his head dejectedly. Of course there wasn't anyone. Nobody cared about him because he was a freak. Yet still Harry couldn't help but hold onto a tiny sliver of hope that someone cared for him and would come to rescue him from his abusive relatives.

A quick movement in the sky caught Harry's eye. It was a shooting star. Harry heard from one of his teachers at school that when you see a shooting star, you should make a wish and that wish would come true. He doubted it. But still he made the wish before trudging back to his cupboard for the night.

He wished that somebody would come find him so that he wouldn't be alone any longer.

-o0o-

On the very same night, albeit many miles away from the town of Little Whinging, a wild storm raged around a menacing, dark building on a small island in the middle of the North Sea. The temperature around this island was also far colder than the temperature in Little Whinging, although the inhabitants of this island were very used to these conditions – they had been the same for as long as any one of them had been imprisoned there on this island.

The building on this island is known as Azkaban Prison.

There were many prisoners on this island, most of these could be found in the lower security wings of the prison, where prisoners have a horrible time of things but are usually at least still sane when they are released back into the wizarding world.

However, a select few prisoners were unfortunate enough to be placed in the high security wing of the prison. Few return to the wizarding world at all from there and even fewer return sane. The high security wing is the part of the prison which is inhabited by dementors at all times. Dementors are soul sucking creatures that feed off happiness and force a person to relive their worst memories, therefore being exposed to them 24 hours a day for years on end will more often than not, drive a person to insanity.

If a person were to walk through the high security wing of Azkaban on this night, they would see a whole lot of dark witches and wizards reduced to nothing more than shells of their former selves. They would also see dotted about, stronger individuals, who while they have not remained fully sane, have still managed to cling onto their minds throughout their stay in Azkaban. This group is largely made up of some of Lord Voldemort's most fearsome and powerful former followers, including Antonin Dolohov and the Lestranges. Lastly, and most strangely of all, they would see a great big black dog sat in a cell deep in thought.

This dog is not an ordinary dog – it is in fact an animagus form of one Sirius Orion Black: a man locked up for being a high ranking follower of Lord Voldemort as well as the murder of 12 muggles and one wizard, named Peter Pettigrew. However, this man currently in the form of a dog was, unbeknownst to almost everyone in the wizarding world, innocent. On top of this he was, for the first time in a long while, thinking clearly – and he wasn't going to waste a minute of it.

Sirius had been able to transform into a dog for the first time in weeks because the dementors had left him alone to pay some particularly close attention to one of his fellow inmates, meaning Sirius was able to regain enough strength to perform the transformation.

Due to the fact non-humans are less affected by dementors, as a dog Sirius was able to get a reprieve from the constant assault on his mind and actually think for a while, until he runs out of strength and is forced to revert back to his human form.

Sirius' thoughts, as they so often were when he was able to think, were fully focussed on the occurrences that saw him end up in Azkaban in the first place. Every night and day for the past eight years, Sirius had been plagued with immense guilt at the role he played in the deaths of James and Lily Potter. It was all he thought about whenever he could think and it was all the dementors reminded him of when they attacked him. It was his fault James and Lily were dead.

However, it was not his fault in the way that most people thought. The belief in wizarding Britain was that Sirius was James and Lily's secret keeper when they went under the Fidelius charm whilst hiding from Lord Voldemort and his followers, and that he had sold out their locations to the dark lord, sealing their fates. That couldn't have been further from the truth – Sirius would never have betrayed James and Lily – but he still blamed himself for their deaths.

It was Sirius who had refused to be their secret keeper, it was Sirius who advised they make that rat Pettigrew their secret keeper, and it was Sirius who had not even been able to avenge their deaths and had let the traitorous rat escape while he himself had been carted off to Azkaban. It was all Sirius' fault.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, while Sirius' thoughts were still focussed on the deaths of Lily and James Potter and the role he had played in them, tonight he was thinking more clearly.

Many times over the last few years, Sirius had tried to figure out just what possessed him to ask the Potters to make Wormtail their secret keeper instead of him. In his right mind he would have never turned down the opportunity to be his best friends' secret keeper – he knew he would never betray them, not even while being brutally tortured – he was toughened up against that due to his unsavoury upbringing. And even if Sirius were to turn down the chance to be their secret keeper, Sirius would have suggested Remus Lupin be the replacement, for Sirius had had doubts about Pettigrew's trustworthiness for months. It didn't add up. So why did he do it?

Then suddenly, everything clicked into place for him.

Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore was the person who had performed the Fidelius charm on the Potter's residence in Godric's Hollow in the first place. Originally it was just the headmaster, the two Potters and Sirius in attendance but Sirius' abrupt change of heart meant that Peter Pettigrew was fetched for the casting of the charm too. That meant that Dumbledore knew that Peter was the secret keeper, not Sirius, and that Sirius was innocent. So why was Sirius still in prison eight long years after he was thrown in his cell without a trial. And why was all of this only occurring to him now?

Memory charms, Sirius realised. Albus Dumbledore must have placed a memory charm on him to forget that Dumbledore had been the caster of the Fidelius on the Potters. The memory charm must have finally stopped working as most of them do when something so important is erased from a mind – usually somebody would recast the charm if they really didn't want someone to remember something. Dumbledore probably just didn't bother with Sirius because he figured that he would go insane in Azkaban anyway and even if not, nobody would believe anything Sirius said.

So Dumbledore had messed with his mind, thought Sirius, then who's to say he only did so once. What if Sirius' sudden change of heart that possessed him to suggest Peter as the Potters' secret keeper was down to the old man's meddling as well. Surely the great Albus Dumbledore, leader of the light, wouldn't have cast the Imperius curse on Sirius?

How many times might the old wizard have meddled with Sirius' mind? Sirius racked his brain, trying to think of anything else he may have suddenly remembered which had been erased all those years ago.

Suddenly his blood ran ice cold.

Harry.

That old meddling bastard had wiped any memories of Harry Potter's existence from Sirius' head. Sirius was beyond furious; he felt a rage beyond anything he had felt since he first realised Peter had betrayed the Potters eight long years ago. But he also felt something else – something he hadn't felt in just as long: a purpose.

His godson had lived through eight years of his life with no parents, presumably with his fate decided on by none other than the bastard that was Albus Dumbledore himself.

Sirius needed to help him. Wherever Harry was, Sirius would bet all of his remaining sanity that Harry wasn't where his parents intended for him to be. That's even assuming that the boy was safe, Sirius prayed to whatever god that may exist that his godson was at least alive and well.

But to help his godson, Sirius had to escape from a prison so impenetrable that nobody in its history had ever broken free from it. Dumbledore clearly had faith that the prison was easily secure enough to hold Sirius, that showed in the old man's decision to not recast the memory charms. But Dumbledore hadn't accounted for one thing.

Sirius' canine face lit up in its first grin in eight years. Dumbledore didn't know he was an animagus.

With the greatest burst of energy Azkaban had seen from any living creature in its history, Sirius jumped to his feet, squeezed between the bars and ran down the corridor at the fastest speed his dog form would allow, stretching atrophied muscles that had been unused for years on end.

He had rushed down staircase after staircase before he eventually saw some human guards on the ground floor: aurors. There were two of them, one was a woman who looked to be in her early twenties while the other was a man who seemed to be around 60. Both of them were stood shivering, quietly talking to each other, clearly not enjoying their task of being stationed at Azkaban. The man stood with his wand in his right hand, but the woman's wand was lying discarded on the table behind them.

Sirius slowed down and silently crept towards the wand, keeping to the shadows. If possible, he wanted to just take the wand and go but if the situation arose, Sirius would use any force necessary to escape, including lethal force. This was too important – failure wasn't an option.

He was so close to the wand when all of a sudden, he saw the woman's eyes widen as she spotted him approaching. In an instant, she reached for the wand as Sirius jumped for it – but she got there first.

Sirius landed and skidded to the side before standing up straight again and turning to face the two aurors, both of whom were now facing him with their wands raised.

"A grim," said the man fearfully.

"Stupefy!" shouted the woman.

Sirius jumped out of the way to avoid the woman's spell then charged towards the aurors as quickly as he could. The woman moved to fire off another spell, so he jumped and sank his teeth into the woman's forearm. She screamed loudly and the male auror fired a cutting curse towards Sirius.

Unfortunately for the female auror, Sirius released her arm from his grip between his teeth so the man's cutting curse sliced cleanly through her wrist, severing her right hand.

If the woman's scream before was loud, it was nothing compared to this one as she held the bleeding stump of her right arm, rolling around hysterically. The man, seeming horrified at what he had done, froze momentarily and that was all the pause Sirius needed. He leapt back up and sank his teeth into the male auror's thigh. He screamed out in pain and kicked out at the dog that caused him the pain and sent Sirius flying where he landed on top of the female auror who had passed out from either shock or blood loss.

Sirius went to move when his one of his feet knocked into the woman's dropped wand which rolled across the floor. While the man was still recovering from the bite, Sirius transformed into a human and dived for the wand on the floor, grabbing it and standing up straight facing the man.

Upon seeing Sirius, the man's face paled considerably and said "You?" in horror.

"I don't want to hurt you," said Sirius slowly, "Just let me obliviate you and I will leave in peace."

The man didn't seem to get the message and fired off a spell, which Sirius dodged.

"Fine," croaked Sirius, "Have it your way."

The two men began exchanging spells back and forth, both using an advanced repertoire of spells and blocking expertly. The problem for Sirius was he was quickly running out of energy; he hadn't used any magic for eight years and now he was throwing around spells at a lightning quick pace. Sirius knew he had to end this quickly before he passed out from magical exhaustion, so he made his move.

One thing Sirius had noticed about the man's fighting was that he had not dodged once. Whether this was just how he fought or if it was due to the injury to the man's leg, Sirius did not know, but either way he was going to use it to his advantage. Sirius sent 3 spells in rapid succession, meaning the man had to focus on how to block all three rather than just sidestepping the lot of them. While he was distracted, Sirius moved to the side and fired a blasting curse right at the man's midsection.

The auror had just managed to block the three prior spells but couldn't to anything to prevent the blasting curse from striking him in his abdomen, exploding his midsection in a shower of blood and guts.

Sirius grimaced as the man slumped to the floor dead. He hadn't meant to put that much power into the curse but now his body was feeling the after-effects of it and all he felt lie doing was curling up and going to sleep. But Sirius refused to give into the feelings and refused to stop, especially when he was so close to escaping.

He turned to the woman who was unconscious and obliviated her so she could not remember what had attacked her – this way his secret of being an animagus would stay intact. He hoped that the woman was found before she bled out on the floor of Azkaban prison.

Without further ado, Sirius turned and out of the buildings and towards the sea. As he got to the edge of the land, he couldn't see a boat and some dementors were beginning to converge on him. There was only one thing for it: he would have to swim for it.

Sirius placed the woman's wand into his mouth, transformed into a dog and waded out to sea before paddling away from the island as fast as his body would allow him. The water was ice cold and choppy and the dementors around made him want to give up, but he persevered and swam on.

Eventually, he felt himself swim past the ward barriers so he turned into a human, took the wand into his hand, and apparated away.

So, that was chapter 1…

Review and let me know what you thought of the chapter if you have the time, and let me know what I can do to improve my writing skills too because that was probably not great.

Also, let me know what you thought on the chapter length, I wasn't sure how long to make it but I felt that was a good place to end the first chapter.

Thanks to anyone who took the time to read it and I'll see you again if you're still here when I upload chapter 2.