Disclaimer: This is a fan fiction using characters, settings, and plot lines from the Harry Potter world owned by J.K. Rowling. I own nothing except original characters.

September 20th, 1990

Two sets of eyes glazed out of the bay window in their dining room. The woman clutched her bone china teacup to her chest and shifted her eyes back to her husband. Her husband sat across from her and his fingers flexed over the landline receiver that sat between the two. It could as well have been a bomb that there was no movement from either figure except for quick shallow breaths.

The man dragged his glaze from the window and turned his head a fraction to regard his wife.

"It's happening Tuney, they promised us it wouldn't happen! They said it was impossible!

His voice came out smooth and measured with only the slight hunch of his shoulders betraying his thoughts.

Tuney set her teacup back in its saucer, the clinking of china helping her focus back on the matter at hand. She retuned to looking outside and felt her lips pinch into a thin white line. Her mother had always dissuaded her from such a facial expression saying it made her look disagreeable. At the moment, she didn't care. "It changes nothing

"But –

"NO Vernon! It changes nothing" Tuney turned back to her husband and leveled him with a glare before continuing in a softer tone " he's still the same boy that you took camping, he's still the same boy you taught to ride to ride a bike. He's just different now.

Tuney raised her tea back up to her lips.

Vernon hunched further into himself and drew his thick eyebrows together "alright so he's different, but Tuney – he's not special, there's no medication or therapy to fix this." His large meaty hand came up to gesture wildly at the window before continuing. "shouldn't we find his people? We're not equipped to handle this Tuney."

"and if we find his people? What then Vernon? I'll tell you what then. They'll take him away from us!" Tea splotched around the edges of Tuney's cup and gathered on the table underneath. "he's mine – our – son. I won't see him taken away by those people when he wasn't good enough for them to keep in the first place!"

"They'll find him eventually Pet; we can't hide him away forever"

Tuney shook her head vigorously "I don't care; he's ours and I'm not giving him up until I have to"

Vernon sighed and shifted in his seat "so that's that"

"so that's that" Petunia echoed

They returned to looking outside where two young boys wrestled in the grass. The larger of the boys would gain the upper hand only to have the smaller boy slip from his grasp and dance around him. Overall, they were evenly matched for while the larger of the two boys was assuredly stronger the smaller was quick and nimble.

Vernon felt the corners of his mouth twitch "Blue hair huh?"

"bright blue hair" Tuney agreed

"well – I always said she was a bit of a twit"

"quite right. In fact, she probably deserved it"

"oh yes, most assuredly"

The man and woman glanced at each other again and shared a secret smile. And the two boys continued to roll around the garden oblivious to the conversation that just took place.

October 31st, 1981

Sirius slunk through the alleyways of the busy metropolitan city dodging cat piss and homeless beggars wandering hands with the dogged determination of a man betrayed. He stopped briefly at the mouth of an ally and deeply breathed the night air making sure he had not lost the scent of his quarry. With an animalistic growl he disappeared back into the alley, the smell of rat burning his nostrils.

November 1st, 1981

Peter hurried through the early morning traffic of downtown London. He had been awoken by the shrill scream of one of his monitoring devices signaling that The Potter's wards at Godric Hallow had fallen. Peter smiled grimly as he skirted a woman and her squalling brat. He needed to get to the Leaky Cauldron and floo to Hogwarts. He needed to find out what had happened. Already owls could be seen shooting overhead in droves with the only question being the news they carried. Who won? The Light? Or the Dark? To be honest Peter didn't have much confidence in the Light. They were too soft, too morally upright for a war. It was at times like this he wished he lived in a wizarding district. It would be so much easier than slumming it in the muggle world. Unfortunately, he had to at least keep of the appearance of hiding, even if it did seriously limit news from wizarding world.

Suddenly several screams filled the air behind him. Peter glanced behind briefly, for while he certainly viewed himself as separate to muggle affairs, he also did not relish the thought of getting assaulted by muggle weaponry while at unawares. However, that glance turned into a shocked double-take at the scene behind him. Muggles backed away from a man that wielded a pipe and a thin piece of wood. His eyes roved crazily in his face and froth like that of a dog's hung in strips from his mouth. Both his head and body were covered in ash and plaster. In fact, looking past the insane appearance and excessive grime he almost looked like –

"Sirius?!" Peter swung his body fully around and ignored the chattering of the muggles as he focused his full attention on the deranged man in front of him. Sirius's eyes locked on Peter's and he felt a shiver of fear at the look of utter hate in them. "What are you doing here? What's happening?"

"What's happening? What's happening? Oh! that's rich!" Sirius began to laugh; his usual warm baritones making way for a hollow hacking Cackle. "They're DEAD! The house went up like a fucking matchstick!" Peter's wand hand flexed. James. Lily. The Brats. Dead. Then the Dark Lord was victorious. A macabre smile cut across his face as he whipped his wand out.

"You TRAITOR!" Peter charged at Sirius brandishing his wand in front of him. He briefly noted Sirius eyes widen in confusion. No matter. As if he would waste time explaining himself to the mutt. "What? Did the Black family madness finally get you too?" Peter dogged a sickly yellow spell flung by Sirius and retaliated with his own barrage of spells. But he knew he was outclassed. Peter had never been the strongest wizard and he was not too proud to admit it.

Quickly glancing around Peter sought a means to escape. With adrenaline buzzing through his veins he dived to the ground as pulsing magic flashing overhead. There were too many people. An Anti-Disapparition Jinx had been cast. There was no escape. There was – there. The London sewer system. Peter quickly rolled to his feet and snarled at Black. He hoped the mutt got caught in the blast. Raising his hand Peter slashed his wand at the street "ConFRINgo!" at the same time Black let loose a powerful cutting hex. As the earth exploded debris rained down from the sky a jet of magic shot through and hit Peter's hand. Hissing he cradled his injured hand and the world warped around him.

When the dust had settled no one could say they had seen a small brown rat slip into the sewer system.