November 8, 1997

4 Private Drive, Surrey England

When Petunia Dursley discovered her nephew on her front doorstep the morning after Halloween, there were a list of things she could have done and said, but deciding to give the child up for adoption was easily the smartest thing she did. It was better than allowing the child to remain in her home and taint her precious Dudders. It was better than spending good money on the frogspawn of her wretched, abnormal sister. The same sister who had managed to go and get herself blown up by one of her own kind.

The services had come to pick up the child and Petunia was able to pretend that the child had never existed. However somewhere, in the back of her mind, Petunia Dursley knew that it was come back to haunt her. Her actions, that is.

"Never mind that Dumbledore; My Family comes before any filthy wizard." she said as she pounded the dough for her homemade bread for the cooking contest.

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June 18, 2007

Milton Primary School, Cambridge, England

Harry Cullens sat in the back of Mr. Cattermole's class, fidgeting in his seat. Luckily, he wasn't the only one…at least not today. It was the last day of school and, in true Milton Primary style; they had to sit in class and work. Harry wasn't like the other children and didn't mind doing class work in the least but he was equally as anxious to get out of class. His mom was no doubt waiting for him and Hermione out in the parking lot. Today was special for Harry because today was his adoption day. June 18th, 1998, when he was a month shy of being two years old, his mom Elizabeth Cullens, had officially taken him home and called him her son. This day was almost more important to him than his birthday.

Often on this day, he, his mom and his best friend, Hermione Granger, had an intimate little dinner at his mom's self-titled café, Elizabeth's. Harry stared at the clock that hung above the blackboard and actively droned out Mr. Cattermole's voice.

3:18

That meant that there were two more minutes until the bell rang. Mr. Cattermole's voice rang above the rustling of the children in their seats. "Okay class, it's almost dismissal. I must say that you are the most patient class that I've had in sometime and I hope that you will all participate at the end of the year celebration tomorrow. We're two minutes to the end of the last day of classes so I'm going to tell you all to pack up and make sure you've everything before the bell rings."

Harry already had his things virtually in his lap and counted down the seconds until the bell. When it finally rang, Harry sprang like a frog and ran out of the building to his mother's car. He ran over to her window where she sat in the driver's seat reading a writer's magazine.

"Hey mom," he greeted. She looked up from her magazine and pecked him on the cheek.

"Hello Harry how was you last day at school?" she inquired, closing the magazine. "Fine mom, I'll tell you more, when I get in the car. Pop the trunk first." Harry replied, dramatically displaying all the bags and posters he had collected over the past school year. Elizabeth reached over into the junk compartment and pressed a button unlocking the truck. Just as Harry finished loading his things, Hermione vaulted over with her own arms full of belongings, particularly books.

Both children hopped into the car, Harry riding shotgun and Hermione in the back seat. Once they we're buckled in, his mother drew out the parking lot and reiterated her question, this time to the both of them.

"It was nice really, but I couldn't wait to get out of that place." said Harry, "I mean schools fine and all, but summer's way better. I will miss the piano classes though. What about you 'Mione?" Harry saw her frown at the nickname in the rearview mirror and couldn't help a snicker. Hermione hated the nickname.

"It was okay I guess. I mean, I'm really going to miss that place." she said with a sigh. "Hermione, only you could manage to be sad on the start of summer vacation," Harry said with sarcasm. "Well think about it Harry, This was our last day in primary. After this summer, we won't be going back. We'll be in secondary."

Harry hadn't actually thought of that. That meant that he wouldn't be with all of the same classmates and possibly with Hermione. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to go to secondary. He knew Hermione was sure to go, but Harry wasn't a very studious person, he would rather focus on music and do solitary study. Harry also knew that despite what he wanted, his mother wasn't giving him any slack. He was going to secondary whether he wanted to or not.

His mother, Elizabeth Cullens, wasn't a very strict person. In fact many would consider her a very lenient parent. As long as he wasn't in danger or a hazard to any one else, she often allow him to go about his own. Elizabeth Cullens was a kind, quiet woman. Despite her quietness, she was quite outgoing and very ambitious. She was also very intelligent and well rounded and insured that her surrogate child was as well. Greek in ethnicity, she was raised in a typical Greek family and despite her mother's numerous marriages she had remained well grounded. Elizabeth was also a very nice looking woman. While on the short side, her looks way outshined any offsets.

She had shoulder length blonde brown hair and dark blue eyes that mesmerized many of the men she had encountered. Harry would call her thin, but not horribly so, more…Elegant. She carried herself in a confidant way that made many drawn to her. Even with her looks, she had avoided marriage, which was the story behind her adopting. Apparently, As Harry heard so many times before, she had decided to forgo the entire fall in love, get married, push out a baby routine. She had attempted to go in that direction, but it hadn't worked out so well so she decided to skip all of the former and do the next best thing: Adopt. That however, didn't go as planned. She had wanted to adopt a newborn, but when she had gone to pick up her prospective child, she discovered that the biological parents decided to keep the baby. The agency had just received another child and didn't have room and asked her to reconsider going for a newborn since there was always a chance that the biological parents would change their minds about giving up the child. That's when Harry came into the picture. Elizabeth saw him and fell in love. She decided at that moment that she wanted him to be her son and petitioned for his adoption. Six and a half months and piles of paperwork later, Elizabeth was officially a mother.

Hermione had been his friend since he began school. She was kind of a know-it-all, and many kids refused to make friends with her. Harry couldn't understand why that would stop anyone from being friends with her. She wasn't horribly ugly; she wasn't the most gorgeous duck in the pond either. She had long, curly, dark brown hair and big, round, brown eyes. She also had a bit of an overbite. Harry discovered that she had a tendency to be quite bossy. But Harry, being raised by his mother to never wrongfully judge people, decided to try and make friends with her. He was quite surprised to find that the class know-it-all was simply lonely. They had been friends ever since. The two were almost joined by the hip, practically like brother and sister.

Harry had drifted so far off into his own thoughts that he had missed the remainder of the conversation and indeed the remainder of the car ride. They had pulled up in front of Elizabeth's. It was a small café located in what most of its residents called "The heart of Cambridge". From the outside it was a small brick building with a flat above it. The only indicator of what it was were the small menu sign that sat to the right of the door and the neat cursive script painted onto the shop's window that read Elizabeth's and under it café and pastries.

"I see you plan on joining us on planet earth Harry," said Hermione, unbuckling. She climbed out of the car and Harry followed her actions, the Trio entering the place. His mother immediately put on her apron that hung near the door and went to work, taking orders. It was particularly packed today, no doubt from people stopping in for a cup of tea before heading home after a hard days work. Elizabeth's was quite a relaxing environment. There was dim lighting inside, most of it generated by the fireplace, where Harry and Hermione spent many a day reading. There was plenty of seating in the place some located by tables and some of it sofas near the window. There was a long bar that separated the employees area from the customers from which Rachel and Maria, some of his mother's closest friends and fellow employees served and prepared the food.

While Hermione went to finish up a book near the fire Harry decided that he would finish up a long overdue game of chess with one of the regulars, Benny Garret. He was an old black man that had been frequenting the café since it had been opened. He sat in the same spot everyday and played chess, most of the time with himself. Not that anyone minded. He had really been a help, keeping the shop when Harry and his mother had spent a very brief time as residents of New York City (Something that explained Harry's lack of a British lilt.) during her time as a magazine columnist.

"Hey, Mr. Garret," Harry greeted the older male as she took a seat across from him. Mr. Garret smiled and set up the board. "Hey kid, and how have you been?"

"Alright, today was the last day of school. How 'bout you?" said Harry, making the first move. "Well I ain't in school no more, so I can't say I got much exciting news, but I been fine." he replied, moving one of his pawns. Harry only nodded in response and neither said any thing else as they finished their game, Harry losing horribly, as he always did. They had been in the midst of a second game when his mom had announced that she was closing up. Mr. Garret cleaned up and prepared to leave while Harry and Hermione assisted his mom in straightening up in order to get everyone else out as quickly as possible.

When the last of people had vacated the café and the other staff had left, Elizabeth disappeared into the back and brought out of the kitchen a beautifully decorated cheesecake.

She sat it on the coffee table near the fireplace and Harry rushed over to plop down on a seat next to Hermione.

"Okay, so you both know why we're here." started his mom, "Nine years ago today, I made Harry Apollo Potter-Cullens my son. And every year, this day, we come together and celebrate this day, because, to me, today is his birthday. Today is the day that he was born as my son."

"Yeah, and she became a mom." added Harry, "Minus all the pushing and the nine month waiting period." His mom shot him an odd look and Hermione snorted, something that she only did when no one but the two of them were around. His mom pulled out a bottle of apple cider and pored it into wineglasses. "To family," she announced.

"To family," the two children repeated. Soon, Hermione's parents, both of them dentists, arrived to pick her up. With a hug for both Harry and his mom, she gathered her things and headed out the door. Harry and his mom cleaned shop and went up stairs into their apartment. For an apartment in England, it was quite large. There were two bedrooms, Harry's room and his mothers. There was also an intimate living room, a decent sized kitchen and a miniscule bathroom. There was also a dining room, but it was so small that his mother used it as a storage closet for their bikes. The minute they had entered the house, his mother started on dinner and Harry went to wash up. When he'd come back to the kitchen, his mother was already done making the instant macaroni and cheese (baking she could do, any other cooking…Not so edible.)

"Wow mom, what's the recipe for this stuff?" Harry asked sarcastically as he sat down at the kitchen table. His mother rolled her eyes. "Is it necessary for you to be so damn sarcastic?" she asked. "Tisk, Tisk, Mommy dearest, watch you language in the presence of children." teased Harry. She swatted at him, which he made a show of avoiding. "I'd like to see you cook, Mr. Funny." she said indignantly. Harry simply laughed. He was no better at cooking than she was. At least she could make a round pancake. "Yeah, I thought so. When you finish your Mac and Cheese, go to bed Harry." it wasn't said with any annoyance, but Harry could tell that she meant it. His mother often sent him to bed early when she wanted time to think.

Or smoke… Harry thought angrily, though he didn't outwardly show it. He hated that his mother smoked and while she had stopped doing it in front of him, it still bothered him a lot. He could smell it and was afraid that his mother would get sick from smoking. But he never said anything anymore because he hated to upset her. So when he finished his dinner, he kissed his mom goodnight and headed to bed. His room was something of his mother's imagination.

She had thought she was going to be adopting a girl and had gotten the walls decorated with all sorts of fairytale creatures like unicorns, centaurs and phoenixes. When she had ended up with Harry, however, she had never gotten around to changing the room. Not that Harry minded though. He believed that the creatures were real. Somehow he just knew. And as he climbed into bed that night, he dreamed of flying alongside the phoenix that was painted on his bedroom wall as it trilled a chilling song.

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Elizabeth climbed out onto the fire escape of her small Cambridge apartment atop her quaint Cambridge café. She pulled her overly large purse in front of her and picked up a carton of cigarettes. Lighting up, she took a long drag of what Harry called a "Cancer Stick", releasing all the stress of her day along with the stream of smoke that filled the air around her like the sticky summer heat. This day had more significance to her than just Harry's adoption day. It was the day her entire life changed. It was the day that so many things were set into motion.

Harry had really changed so much since she had adopted him. Once a quite chubby child, playful and smiling, he was now tall, wiry, and mature, for his age. Perhaps growing up without a father figure had done the latter, Elizabeth didn't know. She had done all she could to give him a normal childhood, but perhaps he was just naturally conducted. His hair was now so long that she didn't bother telling him to get a hair cut. His bangs fell in front of eyes and his hair fell just below his jaw line. He was almost up to her chin in height and she was 5'7, so she was pretty sure that in a few more years he would pass her in height. His face had become more angular in years and his eyes were taught, almost Asian-like, but wide. His lips were full and Elizabeth knew that when he got a little older, the girls would fall over him if they weren't already. She highly suspected that Hermione would keep that in check though, as well as keep his head from getting inflated. It was amusing that her son's best friend was a girl and that Harry was so mature as to not mind the teasing of other children when others brought up that fact. The only things that had not changed were his eyes and the odd scar on his forehead. Particularly the scar which looked the same as the day she had first seen it. It hadn't even faded. When ever she asked him where he'd gotten it, she was unable to answer. Even that horrid aunt of his couldn't answer that question. The aunt she made sure her son knew nothing about. Putting out her cigarette, she climbed back through her window and went to tuck in her son. He was already sleeping, his chest heaving softly, up and down. she planted a kiss on his head and turned out his lamp.

He was a different sort of boy. He was special. He was going to be something. What that was, she couldn't place just yet.

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July 1, 2007

Elizabeth and Harry's apartment

It was a weird dream. He was lying down and standing above him was a woman. She was beautiful. She had cherry red hair and bright green eyes. Like his. She smiled and stoked his cheek with the back of one of her fingers. And she began to hum a song. Harry knew that he had heard the song before, but couldn't trace the tune. Then a man; He had short, messy raven black hair and hazel eyes. He cooed at him, but for the love of him, Harry couldn't figure out who they were. He knew, though, that they were family. But did they actually exist?

Harry woke up quite dazed. However he didn't move. He had learned from his mom long ago that if e didn't move when he woke up, he would be able to recall his dreams in better detail. However he really didn't need to do that for this dream. He had had this dream more or less once a week since before he could remember. It wasn't always the same, sometimes It would be a different man or he would be sitting up in the dream, but it was always the same room, the same woman, the same tune.

Harry rolled out of bed and washed before going into the kitchen. It was two weeks since school had let out and he was still waking up early.

"That has to stop," he thought aloud as he swung the refrigerator door open. He pulled out the milk and took out the box of Fruity Pebbles. As he sat chewing, Harry began to mull things over in his head. That dream. He was quite sure that the woman in his dreams was his biological mother. After all, they had the same eyes. But that was as far as it went. He always asked his mom what she knew about his blood family, but she never had much of an answer, saying that she had never come in contact with any of his relatives. Harry knew that she could simply call the adoption agency and ask for any information, or even a number, and was quite sure that she knew as much. He knew, however, that she was uncomfortable with doing so, so he didn't push the issue. She was on the "I'm your family now." note, and Harry was fine with that, but that didn't stunt his curiosity. Today, though, he wasn't doing to drop it as easily. He wanted to know.

He was washing out his bowl when Elizabeth finally woke up. She emerged in the kitchen, her hair stick up at odd angles with one eye half open and one completely closed. "I see you decided to join us in the land of the living mom." Harry said. She ignored him and started some water for her tea. Once she had settled and began sipping her peppermint tea, Harry began. "Hey mom, I want to find out about my biological parents."

She nearly choked on her tea, some of it flying out of her mouth as she struggled for air. Harry pounded her back several times to assist her in clearing her air ways. Once she was able to breath, she looked up at Harry, staring deep into to his eyes. Harry prepared to defend his position. He was surprised when she muttered, "Okay."

"Huh?" he said, as he was prepared for a fight. "I said okay Har-Bear. I think that, with your birthday in less than a month, you deserve to know and your old enough." She rose from her chair and walked back toward the end of the house, where her room was, beckoning for him to follow.

Harry hardly ever came in this room. It was simply off limits. Her bed sat in the middle of the room, and almost every thing in the room was an appealing red. The furniture was black. Harry truly believed that at one point in her life, his mother was Goth. He sat down on the edge of her bed while she went rummaging through her closet. She returned with a small cardboard shoebox. She spilled it out over her bed. Out of it spilled a series of unopened envelopes and slips of papers and a photograph folder. Harry reached for the latter, but she slapped his hand away.

"No Harry. I think we should read the letters first before we look at any pictures." she said quietly.

"You haven't read the letters mom?" asked Harry.

"Wasn't my place; they probably pertain to you and most of them were addressed to your some lady, I figured that it was only right that you see them first."

If possible, Harry's respect for his surrogate mother when up another level; She had actually saved the shoebox items for his eyes only. She had respected him enough to do so. Harry picked up a random letter, addressed to a "Petunia Dursley," and ripped it open.

Petunia,

You may or not know of me, though I'm sure you heard of me from you sister lily. My name is Albus Dumbledore. Whether or not you care to know, you sister, Lily, just had a bouncing baby boy. He was welcomed into the world at 12:10am, July 31st 1996. I'm not yet sure of his exact weighing in, but I expect that at some point in the day Lily will send you a letter similar to mine. I am alerting you because at some point in the future, you may encounter this child and not under the best circumstances. Trust that I will be corresponding with you in the following months.

Albus Dumbledore.

So now I at least have a name. Harry thought, fighting a grin. "Mom, I know her name." he said quietly, to Elizabeth, who was reading over his shoulder. "Lily," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "That's quite a pretty name. I suspect that the two sisters didn't get on well, from what this "Albus" character says." His mother picked up another letter, this one with a date. It was written on old parchment, much like the letter before, and was quite worn.

September 14th, 1996.

Petunia,

I hoped that it wouldn't come to this, but alas, it has. Your sister, her husband, and her son, Harry, have been forced to go into hiding. There is a dark entity after them and I fear the worst. I must be assured that you know the depth of the issue. Your sister is not just being searched after, she is being hunted. If she should die in this madness, I cannot guarantee that her son's godfather will be capable of such a responsibility as caring for a child. I understand you have a son of your own and I feel safe in saying that should Lily become incapacitated, you would be happy to take in your nephew. This is not a request.

Albus Dumbledore.

Harry was beginning to wonder just who this Albus character. While the first letter seemed seemingly harmless, the second sounded like a gentle threat. Harry was starting to think that the writer of said letter wasn't quite nice. My mother was hunted. Harry didn't quite understand that part. If they were in such danger, why not go to the police. Was his family in some kind of trouble? Why would they go to this Dumbledore character? He must have held quite a strong base. Maybe he was the leader of what ever my bio parents were apart of…Harry was stunned that he was thinking of his parents being apart of some sort of gang. The only way to get either an affirmation or a refutation of his assumptions was to read the next letter. However, when Harry picked it up his mother stopped him with a hiss.

"Harry, these letters are quite deep, if the second one was any sign. Are you sure you want to read the next one?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. Harry nodded and opened the letter. This one began quite differently.

Petunia,

You're sickening, do you know that? That you couldn't even come and see you own damn nephew? On his birthday no less! It was the only day we were allowed out of the house. Lily is your sister for heaven's sake. She loves you, misses you, she never stopped. You don't even respond to her letters. I don't put it past you to burn them. Petunia, you're pathetic. One day, you're going to feel bad about the way you treated her. By then, it will be too little to late.

James.

The letter was written in an untidy scrawl and on a sheet of notebook paper. Harry guessed that the author of this letter might have been his father, but he wasn't to be sure. His mother looked a bit shocked after she finished reading the contents of the paper. She had come to the same conclusion as Harry about the letter being from his bio father. Harry reluctantly moved along to the last letter. He had a feeling that after he read that one, he'd either be really sad or really confused. This letter was quite different from the others simply in its preparing. While the others had been rolled into scrolls and tied, possible wrapped in fabric, this one was encased in an envelope and had a old styled wax seal on it with no distinction as to who it was from. Harry carefully opened this one and read the neat handwriting on it.

Petunia Dursley,

It is with my deepest apologies that I must contact you again with such saddening news. While relaxing in her home, your sister, Lily Evans Potter, was announced deceased at 9:52pm, October 31st, 1997, at the age of 21. Her husband was pronounced dead at 9:34pm, October 31st, 1997, at the age of 21. As you may have discovered, Harry survived. I am not completely sure of the hows to that. We have corresponded on this subject several times, though I haven't given much detail. My reasons are solid on that point. What I do, however, require of you is that you care for your nephew the way you would your own child. Unfortunately, every one here has their hands tied and we've no way of getting in touch with his forenamed godfather, who has been missing in action since an hour after their deaths. Petunia, this is my last letter to you for now. I trust that you'll heed this warning: Care for him as if he was yours or you may be sorry for it later.

Albus Dumbledore.

Harry couldn't shed a tear. Somehow, he had known what the letter was going to say. He placed it down on the bed and reached for the photo folder. Slowly, he pulled out the photograph contained with in it. Several people waved up at him lifelessly from the paper. It was a photo of him as a baby. His eyes passed that aspect and fell on the woman.

"Mom, its her." his mother leaned across the bed to look at the picture at the woman Harry was pointing at. Harry just knew that he had found her. She had miraculously long, stick straight, cherry red hair and blazing green eyes. Harry noticed that he had inherited her full lips and almond shaped tilted eyes. In most other aspects he resembled one of the men in the picture; it had to be his father. He had the same type of messy hair that Harry had, albeit it was cut way shorter than Harry's and stuck up in the back; Near them, in the other corner of the picture, sat a man with long, inky black hair and grey eyes. He was looking at baby Harry. One of the other men had a clean cut look, with mousey brown hair and blue eyes. He had a series of scars on his face, particularly leading from his eye down. He was smirking at James.

The last man in the picture seemed out of place amongst the beautiful people in the picture. He was not ugly, but not what one would classify as handsome. He simply didn't stand out. He had short dirty blonde hair and thin nose. His lips were thin and he looked sickly and confused, shying away from the camera. Harry wondered who had been behind the camera and if they had noticed what he had. Carefully, Harry placed the photograph back in its folder. When he was about to close the folder, he noticed something written on the flap of it.

On his eleventh birthday, all this will be explained. Make no effort to contact me. I have changed my number.

P.D.

So now he had his answers. But he also had so many more questions. His mother neatly packed away all of the papers and placed them back in her closet, save for the photo.

"Keep it," she said. "Now, even I want to know who these people are. That photo may help us." Harry looked up at her in disbelief. "You're going to look for them; Albus and the other men?"

"No, She said on your eleventh birthday, it will all be explained. So, we wait." said Elizabeth with some regret in her voice. Harry nodded with a sigh, "We wait.

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July 15, 2007

Sirius's office, Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Sirius leaned back in his office chair staring at the piece of parchment on his desk. Harry's Hogwarts letter; Dumbledore had told him that if he'd wanted to include a personal letter, he could. Sirius didn't know if he wanted to or not. He didn't want to get his hopes up and spill his heart out like he had foolishly done so many times before, only for the delivery owl to return with an unopened letter. Sirius picked up his quill, than thought better of it. A big red and gold phoenix flew in through his window and landed on his desk just as he had made his decision.

"What are you doing here Fawkes?" he asked the bird, petting his head. The bird trilled and nodded at the letter. "Oh, you've come to deliver this? You can find anyone." Sirius tied the letter to Fawkes' leg and petted his head one more time. "Be on with you. If any one has a chance of finding Harry, it's you." The phoenix bobbed its head and disappeared in a plume of flames. The minute the bird had disappeared Sirius went over to the fireplace near his desk and, sprinkling some floo powder over the flames and calling to Remus.

"Hello," came his old friend's voice.

"It's me, Sirius. You mind if I stop in for a visit?"

"Not at all Padfoot, Come right through." Sirius stepped into the fire and called our Remus' address. He spun around some, before landing in the man's fireplace. He climbed out of it and into Remus' sitting room where he sat sipping his afternoon tea. "By the looks of you, I say you needed a break from the Hogwarts scene?" murmured the werewolf. Sirius threw him an empty glare. "The Hogwarts letter for this years batch of first years went out, the group that Harry's supposed to be joining in September."

Remus' eyebrow's raised and he nodded in understanding. Two seconds silence passed between the men before Remus spoke. "How about we go out for some tea, I dare say, Elizabeth's has the best in Cambridge. Have I ever taken you there?" Sirius shook his head. "Okay, then it's settled."

Remus grabbed up his wallet and he and Sirius headed out into the afternoon sun. "We'll be walking of course. It is muggle owned. And I've got no car." It seemed to Sirius that Remus was simply talking to break the silence. Inside the man probably felt the same as he did; Scared, Hopeful and doubtful all at the same time. Remus hadn't given up hope as easily as he had though. Sirius believed there was no way. Having Fawkes deliver the letter, however, made a glitter of hope shine in his heart. He told this to Remus after a minute, hoping to get the man to shut up so he could sort his feelings. Remus was never this talkative, ever. Indeed, his comment caused Remus to quiet down. Sirius was hoping that Harry got the message and came to Hogwarts in September. But if he had been adopted, that meant that he was going to spend the holidays with his surrogate family. That meant that the only time he would see his Godson was as a teacher, and hardly then, since he taught third year and up in physical transfiguration (McGonagall taught the first and second years and she only taught the upper years theory). He would never really get time to bond with the boy. Even Remus, who worked as a therapist at the school would see him more.

Sirius was brought back from his musing as the arrived at Elizabeth's. It was a small, quaint corner café. He and his friend stepped inside of the place and Remus led him to a table in the back away from the three other patrons' in the shop. They sat near a young boy, whose face neither man could see as he was facing the fireplace. They didn't make an effort to. They both sat in silence occasionally commenting on the school or the weather. Suddenly there was a disturbance. The young boy by the fire yelped suddenly. Sirius peaked around the chair to see if he was okay only to see…

"FAWKES!"

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Author's Notes:

Yes, I did it. Sorry it took me so damn long, too. But this story is like a mash up of all my other stories, so I had to make some adjustments. I also didn't like making anyones life easier than it should be. Because this is AU, Harry is not going to be like CANON!HARRY. He is a diffrent character in this story. Also, I thought making Hermione his friend from the get was interesting. In Canon, It seems as if Harry really can't stand Hermione most of the time. If you don't belived me just go read one of the essays on the Harry Potter lexicon. I decided to twist things around because in this fic, Hermione's even closer to Harry in canon and has put up with her nagging ways and bossiness for so long it doesn't bother him.

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