Chapter 2
At number 4 Privet Drive, in the cupboard under the stairs, a bruised Harry Potter lay curled up on the hard wooden floor with nothing but a thin sheet for warmth. The room was very small, but Harry was small in stature and didn't require much. It wasn't as though this supposed "family" cared for Harry's comfort anyway. The kid was feverish and sporting a split lip where Vernon had lashed out for talking back. Being at the freak school was making Harry bold. Harry's uncle didn't like that one bit.
Sure, Harry's friend Ron would inquire about Harry's health, pretty sure that was Mrs. Weasley, and to make sure that the Dursleys kept the bars off the window. The rest of the letters were filled with random information about quidditch and the Chudley Cannons. Harry didn't really care for the sport itself, but flying was truly one of the best experiences that Harry had ever had.
Hermione's letters are what Harry truly looked forward to. There was always something new to learn in her letters, and she really seemed to care about how Harry was. Ever since Hermione helped to save Sirius Black from the dementor's kiss, Harry had begun to think of the girl as more than a friend. She was closer to Harry than anyone had ever been before, and the youth wasn't quite sure what role Hermione would fill on the road ahead. Sure, Harry knew about boys and girls and had heard things from the older years at Hogwarts, but everything was just so confusing. Maybe one day, Harry would get it all figured out.
It was nearing the end of July, and Harry had not heard from Sirius for nearly the entire summer hols. Harry's Godfather said that he would keep in touch, but the only word from the marauder had been a single sentence one month past, "Be ready for anything." That was back in June. It was now the end of July. Ron's family was to pick young Harry up in just a few days, and all the youth could think about was Sirius.
Now, at nine o'clock at night, Harry had already completed the chores for the evening. Nothing should have interrupted the quiet night. But this is Harry Potter. If something can go wrong, it most definitely goes wrong spectacularly.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
There was a large knocking on the entry door of the Dursley home, and by the sound of things, they weren't going away.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" growled Vernon Dursley as he hefted his large frame from in from of the telly. "Who would come calling this time of night? It better not be one of those freaks!"
As Vernon waddled towards the door, Harry peaked down the stairs. Petunia was already in bed, having finished off a bottle of sherry, and Dudley was in his room playing his Sega Genesis with his headphones blasting. Harry thought the gaming console looked interesting but was never allowed to touch it.
When the door was finally opened, a great black dog came charging through, knocking the fat man down, and swiftly ran into the house. The dog ran everywhere as it sniffed around the first floor before stopping at the cupboard under the stairs and began to growl.
"What the ruddy hell is going on?!" Vernon bellowed. He grabbed a poker from near the fireplace and began to take threatening steps toward the black beast, but before he could swing his weapon, the shaggy dog turned into a man.
A very angry man.
"Dursley!" the enraged man growled. "What have you done to my Harry!?"
With his wand in hand, Sirius blasted the man into the wall with a bludgeoning hex and transfigured the plaster to hold him in place before silencing the squealing man. With his wand in hand, the angry Lord Black ripped the door from the cupboard off of its hinges and scooped up his pup, who was shaking on the floor.
"Don't worry, Harry," Sirius said to the fragile form in his arms. "I'm here now. Padfoot's here. You will never set foot in this house again."
As Lord Black, Sirius could have obliviated Dursley or destroyed the entire home, but this time he would put Harry first. His pup needed him now and he would do everything in his power to make sure that Harry was fit enough for his own retribution against this twisted family.
In a flash of black flames, Sirius Black and Harry Potter vanished from Privet Drive. On a certain headmaster's desk, several instruments were whirring and screaming into the night. Had there been anyone in the room, perhaps someone would have checked on the Boy-Who-Lived.
However, luck was on the side of Sirius Black. Albus Dumbledore was in Geneva at the ICW and wouldn't be back for days. The next time that anyone would see Harry Potter would be on September 1st. But by then, many things will have changed.
Wizarding Britain was in for one hell of a surprise.