Title: The Last Black
Author: Snowkat88
Summary: How was he supposed to know that, in truth, the last Black lived?
Disclaimer: As much as I would like to believe these characters were mine, the credit goes to the amazingly talented JK Rowling for anything you recognize.
A/N – this first part is rather short; it's just kind of an introduction for the rest of the story. The next part will be up shortly – in the meantime, please leave comments, but while constructive criticism is welcome, no flamers. Thanks – hope you enjoy! (
Prologue
For once, the sound of voices shouting in the distance did not bother Harry Potter. For once, he did not hear them and wish to be somewhere, anywhere else. He was content to lie there in his bed, aimlessly staring up at the ceiling, ignoring the nearby row between his so-called family, in his so-called home. But, he was content to have it that way.
For once.
Night fell, but Harry did not notice. He was absorbed in his thoughts, though if you were to ask what they were about, he would not be able to answer. He would not know himself, but for the fact that they all would somehow connect back to Sirius. And after telling you this minor bit, he would break eye contact, not wanting you to see the tears glistening behind the coldly shielded green emeralds.
How was he supposed to know that he was not alone in mourning the loss of a man who had been like a father to him? How was he supposed to know that in truth, the last Black.....lived?
Author: Snowkat88
Summary: How was he supposed to know that, in truth, the last Black lived?
Disclaimer: As much as I would like to believe these characters were mine, the credit goes to the amazingly talented JK Rowling for anything you recognize.
A/N – this first part is rather short; it's just kind of an introduction for the rest of the story. The next part will be up shortly – in the meantime, please leave comments, but while constructive criticism is welcome, no flamers. Thanks – hope you enjoy! (
Prologue
For once, the sound of voices shouting in the distance did not bother Harry Potter. For once, he did not hear them and wish to be somewhere, anywhere else. He was content to lie there in his bed, aimlessly staring up at the ceiling, ignoring the nearby row between his so-called family, in his so-called home. But, he was content to have it that way.
For once.
Night fell, but Harry did not notice. He was absorbed in his thoughts, though if you were to ask what they were about, he would not be able to answer. He would not know himself, but for the fact that they all would somehow connect back to Sirius. And after telling you this minor bit, he would break eye contact, not wanting you to see the tears glistening behind the coldly shielded green emeralds.
How was he supposed to know that he was not alone in mourning the loss of a man who had been like a father to him? How was he supposed to know that in truth, the last Black.....lived?