I don't own Harry Potter.

My Godfather?

As Sirius and Buckbeak flew away, Harry Potter just could not believe what he had learnt and what he had seen.

He had a godfather.

How many times over the last twelve years, when he had been lying awake, writhing in agony, terrified of whimpering in pain from the injuries inflicted by Vernon and Dudley whenever they beat him up and he was trying to stay quiet because he had learnt the hard way but he had learnt his lessons well to remain silent so he didn't get another beating from the filthy muggles, wishing for a relative or someone like a relative to whisk him away from the Dursleys?

When he was a kid, it was one of the hopes he had to keep himself going and get through each day. It wasn't until he was six, seven, or eight before Harry realised those hopes were for nought.

There was nobody looking for him.

There was nobody who wanted to adopt him and take him away from the Dursleys.

He was alone. Once he had accepted that, he had learnt to live with it. He had no choice. The Dursleys were not his family, and they never would be family regardless of what that senile old fool Dumbledore claimed. What Dumbledore thought and what was real life were two totally different things. But as he watched Sirius fly off on Buckbeak's back, Harry was delighted that he and Hermione had saved the Hippogriff's life from the Ministry; in truth, he had been planning on freeing Buckbeak and save him from that evil little bastard's plan to cause pain and misery to Hagrid anyway, and he had almost succeeded but Hermione and Ron had foiled that plan, but thanks to the Time Turner they had succeeded.

After all, the Ministry couldn't kill a Hippogriff if he wasn't there and while the executioner would likely try to kill another, Harry doubted that idiot Fudge would want to go that far. For Fudge was a squeamish bastard, one death was likely more than enough.

This whole year had been a rollercoaster of a nightmare; Harry had hoped that after the misery from last year, he could have a break, and while he hadn't had an adventure as 'involved' as the last two years at his poxy school, the encounters with the Dementors had caused a lot of pain and grief, especially as he heard his mother's voice for the first time, to say nothing of his father's. But what he hadn't expected was the discovery that his parents had been betrayed by one of their friends to Voldemort.

As much as it had horrified him, Harry had to admit that he found the idea of them being betrayed made so much sense. He had wondered how the Potters had been killed, but now he knew the truth. And he had met the man responsible for it, and it wasn't the bastard everyone else believed it to be.

Finding out his parents had questionable friends wasn't a surprise either to him, since he had the same problem since he had friends who spied on him for Dumbledore, who got jealous about him being richer or famous, and the other went behind his back over little things.

Harry looked up in the air, unable and unwilling to take his eyes off of Sirius even if he could barely believe the fact he had a godfather. And for the first time in his life, Harry let his battered heart hope for a family after being denied one all of this time. Harry had spent much of his time asking Dumbledore if he could visit his parent's graves, but the old fool refused.

Who was Dumbledore to refuse an orphan who wanted to see that?

What scheme was he playing?

But at the same time, as he felt hope that he could leave the Dursleys at some point, that was if Sirius pulled his finger out and actually did something constructive to prove his innocence and win his freedom after spending so long in prison, Harry couldn't help but feel negative doubt seep through at the same time.

What if Sirius proved to be as much as a disaster and a positive letdown as everyone else in Harry's life?

Everyone walked away and left him at some point, or they betrayed him and wanted to kill or harm him.

On the list of those who walked and left, Harry thought of the names which came through his mind so fast.

Lily and James Potter. They trusted Dumbledore too much, and they had made the stupid mistake of not leaving the country. Sometimes Harry wondered, really wondered, if they had loved him at all, or if they had thought about getting him shoved into an orphanage. Sometimes he wished that had happened, and he could have grown up without knowing who he really was. The reality was significantly worse.

Remus Lupin who had never checked on him once; that werewolf excuse was pathetic.

Sirius Black, who had gone after Pettigrew without thinking once about him; even when cornering Pettigrew, Sirius had cared more about dealing with the little rat.

Those who betrayed him.

Ron.

Hermione.

Dumbledore.

McGonagall.

Hagrid (he lied when he had said he would be happy here; he wasn't, especially after how everyone turned on him last year).

The students.

The staff.

Those who wanted to kill him.

Lord Voldemort.

Snape (?)

Malfoy was definite, although in Harry's mind the blond was nothing more than a petty little pest.

Those who wanted to harm him.

The Dursleys.

The students whenever he did something wrong, or everything was out of control.

The Ministry of Magic didn't seem to care one jolt who they hurt.

But as Harry thought about it, he wondered what Sirius would do. He really had enough hope left, but if Sirius blew it, where would he be? As he watched his godfather fly away, Harry wondered if Sirius would let him down.