A/N: Thanks to all of you for your reviews! I'm glad that you guys seem to be liking my story so far, at least as far as I can tell… Maybe you could try and give me some more constructive criticism, though? It gets boring if all I hear is that I'm doing great and should continue. Nice enough if it's true, good ego boost, but it's more fun if I get told something I can improve or am given suggestions along the way… That's one of the things I don't get much at home. I just get "it's good" or "it's bad." I'd rather, "it's good, but…" or "it's bad, because…" Constructive criticism presents a challenge, something for me to strive towards. I know I said that this was my first fan fiction, and it's true, but don't think that means you ought to go easy on me. I'm not a beginning writer by any means. I've been writing for the past 10 years- since I was six- and before that I was making up stories and acting them out w/ my brother's action figures. I'm not new at it, I'm only new at these particular characters. I turned to fan fiction because I wanted more feedback on my writing, not because I wanted to get big headed.

Anonymous: I'm glad for your input on the Weasley situation. You're probably right that a lot of people befriend Harry and Ron too early and that it's fake. I thought about the comment, in any case. However, that chapter wasn't really about Harry and Ron. It was about Arthur Weasley. I wrote it to show my belief that he would have been one of the first people to believe Sirius; nobody else was offering to let him into Diagon Alley. They were all staring at him, but Arthur helped him out. And I don't think that it's weird that Arthur would know him. I did explain that Sirius and Arthur didn't know each other well, after all. Rowling does show in her books that they know of each other, though, when Sirius is showing Harry his family tree. I didn't look at them as knowing each other well. I looked at them as being in acquaintance with one another. You don't need to be much more than that to help a person out if they need it. That's what I was trying to show with that particular scene.

Vernon Dursley stared, bug eyed, at his intruder. He had been so busy with his nephew that he hadn't even heard the man come in. Now he found himself faced with a madman wielding a wand as one would a sword. What was he to do? Curse Petunia for telling him to get rid of his gun (she had been afraid that Harry would find a way to use it on Dudley). Now he was left defenseless.

He summoned up what courage he had, raising himself to his full height and staring the man down, pudgy face red with indignation, "Who the hell are you? Get out of my house!"

Sirius, of course, had no intention of getting out of his house, nor was he daft enough to be intimidated by the daft man's loud voice, knowing full well that he was armed and Vernon was not. He didn't even bother to respond to Vernon's outburst but took a step forward, wand still pointed at Vernon, but eyes fixed on Harry, who was trembling. "It's okay, lad. I won't hurt you."

Vernon turned to Harry as well. He seemed to realize that he was going to have no luck in upsetting the angry man. Instead, he took his fright out on the one pitiful being he knew he could intimidate, shaking Harry like a rag doll in his massive hand, "Look what you did, you little freak! This is your fault, you know! Somehow you brought this man here, and now he's going to kill us all. This is what you do, isn't it? You summon these freaks to you whenever you get in trouble and they kill off the whole household of people. Huh?

Is that why your parents were killed?"

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I didn't mean to."

Harry was now visibly shaking. His face, if possible, was even paler than it had been before. He looked from Sirius to his uncle and back again. Something in the way that Sirius was wielding his wand must have triggered a memory, for he went sort of rigid, and his eyes got a glazed look about him. Then he began to twist and turn in his uncle's arms, and he gave a strangled cry that echoed about the cavernous room and resonated. For a moment it immobilized both of the feuding men, for neither had heard anything quite so chilling before. Harry was seemingly unaware of his surroundings as he continued the one harsh scream, a scream like death itself had come to him, and his body was soon drenched in a cold sweat.

"Enough!" Sirius shouted when he at last collected himself.

With a wave of his wand, Sirius thrust Vernon away from the child, who fell unceremoniously to the floor in a heap. Harry was startled from his reverie by the impact, but he continued to shake, and Sirius rushed forward to help the boy to his feet. At Sirius's touch, Harry jumped as if burned and backed himself into the farthest corner of the kitchen. The venomous look he shot at Sirius tore through his heart. He turned his face away to hide his pain, and spotted Vernon, whom he had forgotten, looking at Harry as though he were some sort of infectious disease.

"You don't deserve to live," Sirius said softly. In a moment, he was next to Vernon, his wand at the man's throat. Sirius was shaking in his effort to restrain himself, his hatred for the man was so profound. Vernon was crying, silent tears running down his beefy face and into his mustache, but Sirius felt no remorse. In the same silky voice, he whispered, "I'll spare you this time, Muggle, for I don't think Harry needs to see any more death in his lifetime. However, if you don't cooperate with me, I might reconsider."

Harry was watching the scene in front of him with a shrewd eye. He hated them both, though at four years old he didn't know how to say as much. As far as he was concerned, the two men in front of him were one in the same; hard, cold men who used intimidation as a means of gaining respect. One would expect that someone who had been bullied by his uncle for his entire life would be glad to see him taken down a notch, but Harry was not. He could care less about his uncle, but it wasn't in his nature to enjoy the sight of someone being threatened. He was all too familiar with how it felt to be in that situation.

Sirius stepped away from Vernon, leaving the man to massage his throat. He turned to Harry, who by this point had gotten shakily to his feet. Harry wasn't looking at Sirius, though. He was looking at his uncle… Was that pity in his eyes? Harry's voice was feeble as he said the only words Sirius had as yet heard come from his mouth. "Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I didn't mean to."

"Harry," Sirius said, drawing the child's attention from his uncle, "Get your things together. You're coming with me."

Harry didn't say a word, but he took a defiant step away from Sirius, towards his uncle. His bright green eyes were fixed and unforgiving. Sirius felt a wrench inside his soul. He had told himself that it might not be easy to get the four year old away from his relatives, but inside he had thought that it would be no problem. When he got here, it was evident that Harry had been abused. Why did he want to stay? The only reason Sirius could come up with was that, much as Harry disliked his relatives, he disliked Sirius more… It was a conclusion that rendered him devastated.

"Please, Harry," he whispered, "I won't hurt you. Come with me."

Harry made to take another step towards his uncle, but to Sirius's surprise, Vernon stopped the boy, raising his hand. "No, Harry. Go with him."

His uncle's voice wasn't what one would call kind, but it was the first time in Harry's life that he had been addressed by his uncle in anything other than a gruff bark. He stared in amazement, confused tears forming in his young eyes. His uncle was finally showing him

something akin to compassion, and it was the one thing that Harry had dreamed of for as long as he could remember. Why was it that it happened when he was going away? For Harry was a smart child, and he knew that, much as he tried to dissuade the strange man, he would wind up leaving with him today, one way or another. Especially since his uncle, for whatever reason, seemed to be agreeing with the man. There would be no battle in Harry's defense. With that knowledge firmly in his mind, he gave in, turning away from his uncle.

\"Good lad," Sirius said, the words strained in his pain at Harry's fear of him. "Let's get your things together. Bring me to your room."

At this audacious command, Harry stared at Sirius with understandable confusion. At least, it was understandable if you knew of Harry's current living situation. Sirius did not, and he was a bit impatient as he said, "Harry, bring me to where you sleep at night."

Harry nodded, for this was language he understood. He completely missed the warning look that his uncle gave him as he made his way out into the hall, for he had decided that it would be easier for him if he didn't look at the man- out of sight, out of mind. Vernon could do nothing but waddle anxiously into the hall after the pair and watch as Harry made to open the door to his cupboard.

Sirius stared at Harry, confusion and disbelief strewn across his face. He frowned when Harry tried to open the cupboard door and was unsuccessful. Vernon, watching these events, was well aware that Sirius did not seemed entirely convinced. Of course, he thought. It was really quite simple. He would convince the man that Harry was confused, and then lead him up to Dudley's second bedroom. Dudley wouldn't even notice if some of the items in that room disappeared, and the frightening wizard wouldn't hex him for mistreating Harry. In was infallible.

"He's confused," Vernon said, cutting in front of Harry, "That's the broom cupboard. I caught him sleeping in there earlier when he was supposed to be doing chores. That's what I was talking to him about when you came in. He must think that you're asking about that. His room is upstairs, I'll show you."

Sirius turned and began to follow Vernon upstairs, but it didn't take him long to realize that Harry wasn't behind them. He started to tell the child to come with them, afraid he would bold at his first chance, and instead found him standing as he had been in front of the closet door, pulling insistently at the knob. Harry hadn't missed the fact that his uncle had been about to cover up his actual sleeping arrangements. What he hadn't understood was why. On the other hand, he had been told his entire life not to lie, and as this stranger scared him much more than his uncle ever had, he wasn't going to risk him finding out that Harry had broken that vital rule.

Sirius glanced from Harry to Vernon before jumping the two stairs he had started up and approaching the cupboard. He motioned with his head for Harry to step to the side, and Vernon watched in horror as he raised his wand, sure that it was for some horrible curse. Sirius wasn't even looking at Vernon, though, but rather at the door. "Alohomora!"

With a click, the cupboard unlocked and swung forward on its hinges. Sirius peered curiously into the dark space, but despite Vernon's assurances that the cupboard held nothing but brooms, he was forced to deal with a far different reality. On the floor of the cupboard lay a nest of tattered blankets and a dingy pillow- a makeshift bed, of sorts. To the left of the pillow was a neat pile of tattered clothes similar to the ones Harry was wearing now, as well as a pair of peeling tennis shoes. To the right of the bed, he saw an assortment of random toys , not a one of which was in one piece. The sight was sickening, to say the least.

Sirius took a trembling step away from the cupboard door. Oh, that man would pay for what he had done to his godson. He would make sure of that. He took a menacing step toward the man, his throat reverberating with a low growl as he raised his wand, prepared to do his worst. What he was unprepared for was a sudden force colliding with the side of his body as Harry rammed his tiny body into him. Harry wasn't much of a threat to Sirius- he doubted if the tiny boy weighed more than ten or fifteen pounds- but the sudden impact caught him off guard. Harry took advantage of his momentary lapse and climbed, monkeylike, up his arm, sinking his teeth into the flesh near Sirius's wrist.

Sirius yelped, for that pain was incredibly prominent. His eyes watered for a few moments, but Harry was relentless, holding onto his flesh like a rabid dog. Sirius was at a loss. He didn't want to cast a spell at the child, for he mistrusted him enough as it was.

After a moment, Sirius gave in, "Alright, alright! Truce!"

Harry dropped instantly from Sirius's arms, landing as a cat would on his hands and feet. Sirius shuddered at the wild look in Harry's eyes and the animalistic way in which the boy conducted himself. What kind of world had he grown up in? The boy crouched protectively between Vernon and Sirius, and Sirius half expected him to begin to growl.

"I'll make a deal with you," he told Harry at last, crouching down so that they were at eye level. "I'll leave your uncle alone if you promise to come with me without a fight. Deal?"

Harry stared suspiciously at Sirius. Never in his life had anyone ever compromised with him. Could the man be trusted? Well, if he broke the promise, Harry supposed that he could always fight back. So he gave a tentative nod of his head. Sirius sighed, relieved that he at least wouldn't have to take the boy away forcibly, and massaged his wrist a bit. That was when Harry saw the blood. He winced, and then voiced the only words he had ever been taught to voice. They were the words he used every time he had this same feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach. "Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I didn't mean to."

Sirius frowned, but looking at Vernon he noted that the man seemed as confused as he. Sirius looked back at Harry, the confusion furrowing the edges of his black brows.

"Harry, my name's Sirius."

Harry nodded, but his eyes were glazed as if he didn't understand in the least. Sirius swallowed. Why was he suddenly thinking that he was in way over his head with this child?

He raised his wand to gather up Harry's few personal belongings. The boy was on him in a flash, his grubby hands digging into Sirius's open wound and yanking. Sirius hissed, immediately distracted by the torturous pain. "Harry! Harry, stop! I wasn't going to do anything to your uncle, I swear. I was just gathering your things together!"

Harry dropped away from Sirius again, shamefaced. He was sobbing now at the look of the damage he had done to Sirius's arms, so much so that he could barely choke out his words. "Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I… I didn't… Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I didn't mean to," he sobbed. Sirius's eyes widened as he finally realized the cold, hard truth. Although Harry understood the basic English language well enough when it was spoken to him, his vocabulary was limited to that one sentence.

"Bandages," Vernon choked, looking at the blood that was dripping from Sirius's wrist onto his crème carpet, "In the kitchen cabinet, above the sink. I'll pack Harry's things."

Sirius nodded at Vernon, whom he had once again managed to forget, "A sweatshirt, too, from your son if need be. Harry, come with me."

Harry followed obediently, his eyes locked on the grotesque gash in Sirius's arm. His mind was muddled, and having acted on pure instinct, he still hadn't quite grasped the fact that it had been he who had done that to the man. It was with a sort of morbid fascination that he watched Sirius awkwardly dress his wound with his left hand. Sirius muttered under his breath as he did so, "The bloody muggle way will have to work until I can get to Hogwarts. Kid obviously doesn't like wands."

Harry followed Sirius back to the hallway when he was done. He could tell by the look on both men's faces that he had done some grievous wrong, but had yet to quite wrap his mind around what it was. Strangely enough, neither man was yelling at him for it. He wasn't sure whether to be happy about that fact, or scared. He settled for shoving the thought from his mind entirely, using his powers of observation to try and deduce what was happening. Things were occurring too fast for his four-year-old brain to keep up.

As for Sirius, he accepted the duffel that Vernon handed him with a curt nod. He was beginning to get dizzy from the pain in his arm, and knew that he had to get out of here as soon as possible. With that thought in mind, he swung the duffel bag over one shoulder and reached a hand out for Harry, who instantly shied away.

Sirius's patience was by now gone entirely. "Harry, we made a deal."

Harry looked at him with confusion, the edge to Sirius's voice not getting past him. He could only think that Sirius intended to beat him, and as far as he was concerned he had conceded to no such thing. How stupid would he be to agree to that, anyway?

"You said you'd come with me," Sirius told the boy, trying to keep himself under control as he noted the child's obvious fear, "So come. I swear I won't hurt you."

Harry took two small steps forward. Without a second thought, Sirius wrapped his arms around the small child's waist and hoisted him up, sickened as he felt through Harry's overly large shirt the skin that clutched to his rib cage. Harry, meanwhile, had stiffened the second Sirius had touched him, and although he did not fight, as per their agreement, neither did he relax.

Out of Harry's line of vision, Sirius clutched his wand and apparated to Hogsmeade. The sensation was abnormal for Harry, who immediately began to shake and cry. Sirius made a halfhearted attempt to quiet the child, but his heart wasn't in it. He knew that he was losing too much blood to be worrying about whether or not the four year old in his arms was happy or not. At least he wasn't squirming, Sirius thought as he set off at a brisk pace towards Hogwarts.

"Albus!" he hollered the second he stepped into the entrance hall, "Albus Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore could have been anywhere in the school, of course, but Sirius knew that he had a knack of showing up wherever and whenever he was needed. Sure enough, he appeared a moment later at the top of the stairs, concern showing on his old, weathered face. When he saw Sirius with a bloody bandage wrapped haphazardly around his arm, and the beaten child in his arms, his concern deepened and he rushed down the stairs. Harry found himself being given to the old man, but as he had yet to have a grudge with this particular person, he didn't object. Dumbledore gave Sirius a questioning look, but Sirius shook his head, signaling that this was not the time to discuss anything, and started towards the hospital wing.

Poppy Pomfrey was reading through some of her medical books when she heard a great deal of clanging coming from the other room. Her lips pursed in anger at being disrupted, and she stormed from her office in a huff, "Honestly, is all this noise really necessary."

Sirius looked up, and gave a halfhearted smile at the mediwitch, "If it gets you out of your office that quickly, then yes. Now, normally I'd ask you to clean Harry up before me, but his injuries are mainly old ones that have clotted over by now, whereas I am still losing blood." He held his arm out expectantly.

Arahi; Please read and review. Hope you enjoy it, regardless.