Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm not making any money off of this, so sue me.
A/N: I've always been fond of the Sirius/Harry parent/child situation. It just warms my heart... so let's do it! Enjoy!
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Harry sat on one side of his bed, staring blankly out the window. His eyes burned with hot tears threatining to come out. The door clicked behind him and Aunt Petunia walked in.
"What are you doing, lazing around here all day? I have some work for you in the kitchen!" Aunt Petunia sceeched at him, pointing out the bedroom door. Harry slowly got up and shuffled his way out the door, keeping his head down.
When Harry arrived in the kitchen, a broom and mop with a bucket of water were waiting for him. Picking up the broom with a sigh, Harry began sweeping the floor. The broom reminded him of Quidditch...which reminded him of Cedric...which reminded him of all that he had tried to forget, and all that he was thinking about back in his room. Not realizing the tears on his face, Harry put the broom back and picked up the mop, dipping it in the bucket before thrusting it on the floor. Hearing footsteps, Harry looked up into the face of Uncle Vernon.
Uncle Vernon looked back into the tear-streaked face of Harry. "What's wrong with you, boy?" Harry, not realizing what his uncle ment, looked down and kept mopping. Returning his mind to is work, Harry shrugged off what Uncle Vernon had said. He was always pointing out something 'wrong' with Harry. But what came next felt like an electric charge.
"Just because you helped some 'evil wizard' back to power, and saw one of your freak friends killed, doesn't mean you can-" Uncle Vernon started, but Harry cut him off. "Y-you know what happened last year? How?" Harry was staring at Uncle Vernon, mop lay forgotten on the floor.
Uncle Vernon said the next words with disgust. "Your crackpot Headmaster came and told me the 'great ordeal' you went through last year. I told him I don't give a damn, and he said I was being an irresponsible guardian. And I said I don't care." He drew a deep breath "And if you think you can get all mushy on us, you've got another thing coming. Now get back to work!" And he walked off, leaving Harry alone with his abandoned mop.
Harry dropped to his knees. He felt like banging his head against something. Dumbledore, telling the Dursleys what he had been through, as if they could possibly comprehend what this meant, to both the Wizarding and Muggle communities! Shaking his head, Harry brushed away the tears on his face that he had just realized were there. He stood up, and began to mop the floor again, his hands shaking slightly. Now Harry wanted to throw up. Thinking about what happened last year always made Harry slightly sick, and he was always in fear of totally breaking down in front of the Dursleys (or anyone, for that matter).
Finishing the last of the floor, Harry tip-toed on the the spots he had done first on purpose so they would be dry back to the living room. Deciding that he would be safer from the Dursleys outside, Harry opened the door and proceeded outside, out to the open field behind the house. Settling on a grass hill, Harry sighed and looked calmly up into the vast expanse of the sky. It was so warm and cozy there...Harry couldn't help but feel a little drowzy. His eyes closing slowly, Harry let out a content sigh as he drifted off into a soundless slumber...
A skeletaly tall and thin man sat in an armchair, his pale fingers drumming impatiently on the arm rest. "Well, Wormtail? There must be some weakness to be found in the boy's defenses." The man's high, cold voice sent a shiver through his servant's body.
"Y-yes, master. B-but what?You k-know you can't even t-touch the boy where he is now. How can y-you get to him?" The cowardly short, bald man inquired.
"Never doubt me, Wormtail! Crucio!" The man pulled out his wand and cursed Wormtail, sending waves of horible pain through his rigid body.
Those same horrible waves of pain caused Harry to wake up from his peaceful slumber, clutching the scar that made him special, even for a wizard.
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Sirius Black grinned so hard, his face felt like it would split in two the whole way through. He walked out of the Ministry of Magic office, clutching two crisp pieces of parchment in a death grip. Sirius walked straight through the office, the long way, taking as slowly as possible, to the front door. People turned around and looked at him suspiciously, but none shouted "Oh my Lord! It's Black! Arrest him!" as they would have a few days ago. Sirius took pride in each and every step, gloating at all the office workers like he was their superior and they were all stickey stuff at the bottom of his shoe.
Sirius was about to exit the building, when he spotted a copying machine. Grinning, He paid the woman running the machine 2 Knuts to have his papers copied. After that was done, he pulled out a rumpled piece of parchment from his Muggle coat pocket, smoothed it out as best he could, and wrote:
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday! Sorry if it's a little late, I was really busy working on a project with the Ministry. I hope you like it, it took a lot of time, but it was worth it. Sorry it's not better then that. As always, be careful, and never stay too far away from the Dursleys, as much as you'd like to. I'll write back more later, I'm a little busy right now. Before you ask, yes, I'm alright. I'll see you soon.
Love,
Sirius
P.S. - If you'd like to stay, how's August 3rd, around 6? Write back soon.
Grinning still from ear to ear, Sirius took out another piece of parchment from his coat pocket, and layed it down with all the others. He stacked them so Harry would see the letter first, then broght them back up to the second floor. Arthur Weasley came striding to meet his, carrying a old, gray owl with him.
"Now, are you sure you want to use Errol? He's not very dependable." Arthur looked a little worried at giving his family owl to Sirius.
"Yes, I want these" Sirius held up the pieces of parchment, which had now been rolled up neatly "delivered to Harry as fast as possible." And with a sigh, Arthur opened the cage and let Sirius tie the letter and others to Errol. Both men watched as Errol took flight through an open window. Arthur turned and left, but Sirius watched until the owl vanished into the cloudles horizon. And Sirius Black, for the first time in many years, laughed.
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A/N: What do you think? Sorry it's so short, but I don't have an excuse! I know some of it's a little choppy. I might re-do the first part of Ch.1, but I like the rest, for the most part. I'll start on Ch.2 soon. Constructive criticism is appreciated, flames will be sent to Lord Voldemort. He knows where you live...