Disclaimer: No, they're not mine *sighs longingly* Warning: This is SLASH. Homophobes, shoo. There's nothing for you here. You were warned so don't come moaning to me if it's not to your taste. That is all.

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It was a quiet summer in Privet Drive. The heat was keeping everybody indoors, as it was much cooler inside than out. The few people that were outdoors were children, squealing as they had a water fight, or hot, sweaty workers cursing the failing air-conditioning in their cars as they arrived home from work.

A thin boy with a mess of black hair and vivid green eyes was wrestling with a lawn mower, putting it back into the shed after spending the afternoon mowing his aunt and uncle's lawn. Famous Harry Potter, treated no better than a house-elf, he thought bitterly, going inside and helping himself to a cool glass of water.

"What do you think you're doing?" shrieked his Aunt Petunia, a thin, horsy woman with a long neck. "You're shedding grass cuttings over my floor! Go up to your room, and don't come back down until you look presentable!"

Harry tramped upstairs to his room without complaint. *It'll take me years to become presentable by her standards,* he thought without bitterness.

Once inside his room, he locked the door and flung himself onto his bed. He was idly flicking through Quidditch Through The Ages when he heard a tapping at his window. He turned and saw that his owl, Hedwig, had returned. He dashed to the window and let her in, eagerly ripping open the letter she had been carrying for him.

It was from his godfather, Sirius Black, a man who everyone bar a select few thought was a mass-murderer. He was the only person ever to have successfully escaped from Azkaban and current intelligence was that he was hiding somewhere in Africa, a fact that Harry knew to be completely false.

Harry, he wrote, sorry for not writing for ages, but I've been busy with Dumbledore and Remus. I've found a good hiding place, completely safe, and once we've finished everything here I'm going to ask Dumbledore to let you come and stay for a bit. I can't tell you where in case this letter is intercepted (Mad-Eye's here and frightening everyone with thoughts of ambush, as usual) but I hope to see you soon. I'll let you know what Dumbledore says.

Love, Sirius

Harry read the letter again, grinning. He hoped that Dumbledore would let him go, and personally he didn't care if Sirius was living in a swamp; anywhere would be better than staying at Privet Drive for the rest of the summer. He scribbled a few lines in reply, then flopped back down on the bed.

He didn't bother to ask what Sirius was up to with Dumbledore; he had asked before and been told to keep his nose out. Although he was slightly annoyed at being kept in the dark - he was sixteen now, and had faced Lord Voldemort countless times - he knew that he would be filled in when the time came.

It would be great to see Sirius again. He was the closest thing to family Harry had - he didn't count the Dursleys as family, not by a long shot. He didn't even like them, much less love them, but Sirius . . . he cared deeply for Sirius.

Despite the fact that Harry had only known Sirius for three years, due to the fact that Sirius had been incarcerated in Azkaban for twelve years for a crime he did not commit, Harry trusted him like he trusted no other, not even Ron and Hermione, not even Dumbledore. In the last year since Voldemort's return, Harry, acting on Moody's advice, had made a decision not to get too close to anybody in case they could be used as a means of getting to Harry - which already made Ron and Hermione prime targets anyway - he couldn't help feeling the way he felt about Sirius.

Sirius was more than a godfather to him. He was the only person to whom Harry felt he could tell anything, even things that he had kept from his best friends. And Sirius cared for him, cared in a way that his relatives never had. Sirius was the only person he felt he could be truly close to. Sirius was the only person that he loved.

He knew that the feelings he had towards Sirius weren't exactly how you would normally expect to feel about your godfather, but then, he mused, I've hardly had what you might call a normal life, have I?

Sirius was a wonderful man; in Harry's eyes, he could do no wrong. He could hardly wait for Sirius to be cleared so he could go and live with him - what with the Ministry of Magic now being forced to acknowledge the overwhelming evidence that Voldemort was back, then it was only a matter of time before Sirius' name was cleared. He had a vision of himself and his godfather battling side-by-side against Voldemort, and smiled grimly. That moment was not far off; Voldemort was gathering his army and the focal point of his plans was Hogwarts. While Harry didn't think that Voldemort would be stupid enough to attempt to attack Hogwarts directly, not with Dumbledore there, nevertheless he had a feeling that it would all boil down to a final battle in the grounds.

But still, he wasn't overly concerned. He had lived with the threat of Voldemort so long, he often wondered what it would be like when, if, he was finally defeated. What would he do then?

Whatever I do, he thought, it will be with Sirius. Sirius will always be there for me.