A/N: Full summary, as promised: How would Harry's life have been different if Sirius raised him? Find out here. Sirius is released from Azkaban as Peter is caught. He goes to collect Harry from the Dursley's with Dumbledore. How would the events that follow be different than the actual novels? A story about Harry growing up under the watchful, yet slightly indulgent eye of Sirius Black.

Chapter One: Flying Motorbikes and Salad Sandwiches.

Sirius sat rocking in his cell in Azkaban, sure that today was the day, today was the day he would finally go insane and die or something as equally as horrible.

He pressed his fingers in his ears, sure that his father and mother were standing over him, shouting about their pureblood nonsense.

'Sirius!'

'No,' He groaned. 'No, no…'

'Sirius!' This time the loud call meant something else. He relived the scene in his mind. James and Lily: dead for hours, the house in ruins, searching frantically for any sign of life, the baby, Harry Potter, taken from his grasp, falling into an icy cold blackness as the Dementors swarmed him. Hagrid, yelling out, taking his flying motorbike, the baby wrapped in his arms, and being shoved into a dank damp cell, left to relive the worst night of his life all over again.

He whimpered, the vision over, the aftershocks ebbing through his mind. 'Sirius Black!' The voice sounded old, familiar.

He opened his eyes a crack hesitantly and saw Albus Dumbledore before him, holding a key ring full of old fashioned brass keys.

'Hello, Sirius,' said Dumbledore gently, reaching out to pull him to his feet.

Sirius swayed unsteadily, leaning up against the wall. 'Professor,' he rasped in greeting.

Dumbledore jangled the key in the lock, and the joyous sound almost made Sirius pant in celebration.

'Now, Sirius,' Dumbledore said. 'I'll explain in full later, but basically you're released and Pet…'

All sound faded away as Sirius fainted from shock, and standing on his feet too long. Azkaban had taken its toll.

***

Sirius woke with a start. He'd had the weirdest dream. He'd dreamt that Dumbledore had come and he'd been released from Azkaban.

He opened his eyes to a blindingly bright room. He supposed he must have still been dreaming. He wasn't sure where he was, but it sure wasn't Azkaban.

It was in fact, Madam Pomfrey's house. She'd always had a soft spot for Sirius Black, as had many others of the staff, no matter how much of a troublemaker he was, and when she had heard he was being released from Azkaban had insisted he come to her home, for he would be, "too fragile for a hospital environment."

Albus and Madam Pomfrey fussed over him as he recovered, though the first question he asked every day was, 'How's Harry? Can we go get him now?'

Dumbledore, who would always have been sitting by his bedside for hours, would roll up his newspaper, smile gently and say, 'Not yet, Sirius. You must recover.'

This day was no exception. Though after the usual round of questions and answers, Sirius became more urgent. 'Really, Dumbledore,' He said urgently. 'Those Muggles are horrible. Lily told me stories about them that would…'

'Alright, Sirius.' Dumbledore said gently. 'When you are ready. When you're ready, we'll go get him.'

'I'm ready!' Sirius told him, infuriated that Dumbledore was keeping things from him and restricting him from doing things, just like he was a pesky child.

'Not yet, Sirius, not yet,' Dumbledore said, infuriatingly calm and wise.

***

The next morning, Sirius woke early. So early it was dark, and Dumbledore had not arrived yet. He crept out of bed silently, hoping not to wake Madam Pomfrey, who, from years of working in the Hospital Wing, had a sharp ear for wandering patients.

He looked through the drawers, and grabbed a blue shirt, rummaging through for pants. They were nowhere to be found.

'Really funny, Dumbledore,' He muttered, irritated.

He stole into the bathroom and got dressed, with what items of clothing he had with him.

When he emerged it was light, and Dumbledore was sitting in his usual chair. He held out his arms, as if to show off his ensemble. A blue shirt, and black and navy blue plaid boxers, and no pants.

'Funny, Professor,' He said sarcastically. 'Really hilarious.'

'Ah,' Dumbledore put down his paper, and peered over the top of his half moon spectacles. 'I expected we'd run into something like this. I took the liberty of…'

'Hiding my pants,' Sirius cut in after the silence stretched out, no need to sugar coat anything.

'Well, yes,' Dumbledore said, amusement contained in his voice. 'No matter,' he continued. 'You'd better get dressed. The Dursley's are expecting us.'

Sirius pushed down his excitement and nervousness to say, as politely as he could manage, 'Professor, you…'

'In the drawer,' Dumbledore pointed and the draw slid open and a pair of pants flew at Sirius.

He caught them and stomped into the bathroom, hiding his nervousness with bravado.

***

Sirius took a deep breath and shook his head, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling of having a tightening metal band around his head after Apparating to Little Whinging, more precisely, the end of Harry's street.

He and Dumbledore continued down the way, stopping at Number 4 Privet Drive. He steadied himself, gave a weak smile in Dumbledore's direction and continued up the drive.

He banged on the small nondescript knocker, and considered running away, and pretending it was a pesky child joking around, but Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder and said reassuringly, 'I sent them a letter. It'll be fine.'

Fro inside there was muffled shouting. 'Boy! Boy! Get the door, boy!'

A small boy opened the door for them. He was tiny, dressed in a large flannel shirt and baggy worn pants that were rolled up at the cuffs. The boy had a sweet innocent face, and his glasses were set askew on his face, Sellotaped together. 'Hi,' he said in a polite tone. 'I'm Harry.' He continued in a cheerful voice.

He looked to be about three or four years old. 'Your beard's long,' He observed, pulling the end of Dumbledore's beard, which was tucked into his belt.

'It is,' said Dumbledore, laughing. 'May we come in, Harry?'

'I suppose,' said Harry uncertainly. 'Who are you?'

'I am Dumbledore,' he said. 'And this is…

'Boy!' a voice called angrily. 'Boy! Who's at the door?'

'Dumbledore's here!' Harry shouted, tripping off down the hall and motioning for them to do the same. 'He's got a beard too! It's long! And there's another man too…but he doesn't have a beard! Or a name.' Harry finished, as he stepped into the kitchen.

Vernon and Petunia Dursley were standing in their kitchen, with pursed lips and uptight expressions. 'Why, hello!' said Dumbledore pleasantly. 'I trust you received my letter.'

'We did,' She hissed. 'Take him, take the boy! And then get out of my house, you horrible abnormalities!'

Harry bent his head, looking rather forlorn, and Sirius felt horrible all of a sudden. How could these people be so cruel to him?

Sirius bent down to eye level with Harry. 'Hi, Harry,' he said softly. 'I'm Sirius Black.'

'Hello, sir.' He said respectfully.

'Just Sirius,' he told him. 'I was a friend of your mum and dad's.'

'Hi Sirius, a friend of my mum and dad's.' he greeted.

Petunia was arguing with Dumbledore, but Harry stood with Sirius. 'I'm your godfather, Harry.'

'I'd be glad, if I knew what that was,' Harry told him seriously.

'It means, if anything ever happened to your parents, I would look after you.' Sirius told him, feeling sentimental. 'I've been…otherwise occupied –' after all, how was a child supposed to understand being wrongly imprisoned and then released again. '- I'm back now, and would like to keep my promise to your dad. Would you like to came and live with me?'

The boy stared at him, his eyes wide beneath his glasses. Sirius hurried to say, 'I'll understand if you don't want to leave your aunt and uncle…' though he couldn't really. These people were awful.

'Are you joking?' Harry asked in an absurdly grown up voice. 'Maybe if I live with you my glasses wont get broken all the time. Dudley sits on them sometimes,' he told Sirius confidentially. 'While they're on my face.'

Sirius was appalled.

'You seem nice,' he continued cheerily. 'And you were a friend of my mum and dad's. Uncle and Auntie weren't. Uncle said dad was a drunk, and Auntie said my mother was a freak.'

Sirius felt angry and tears threatened to escape his grey eyes. 'Well, your mother Lily wasn't a freak, and your father, James was not a drunk.'

'I believe you,' Harry said sincerely, his eyes behind his glasses looking wiser than his five years.

Sirius stood up. 'Should we go get your things then?' He asked.

Harry led him out into the hall and Sirius went to the bottom of the stairs while Harry hung back, by a cupboard door. 'Is your room upstairs?' Sirius asked, friendly.

'Gosh, no!' said Harry surprisedly. 'I'm not even allowed up there.' He opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs and gestured to it proudly. 'This is my room.'

Sirius felt like he was choking. They made him sleep in a cupboard? What were these people?

Sirius stalked down the hall to the kitchen and banged open the door. Harry trailed off his voice quietening. 'Don't you want to see my…?'

In the kitchen Sirius boiled over with raw anger. 'Excuse me, Albus,' He said politely before launching into a tirade. 'This is abuse, you know! He's wearing clothes miles too big for him, his glasses are broken because your pig of a son sat on them, while they were still on Harry's face!'

Dumbledore looked shocked and Vernon opened his mouth to say something, but Sirius carried on. 'He sleeps in a cupboard, for crying out loud! The boy has never known love! He'll be emotionally scarred! And you,' here he waved his finger at the Muggle couple warningly. 'Lily and James Potter were not freaks and they were not drunks!' Sirius took a deep shaking breath. 'How dare you?'

He banged through the kitchen door once more, regaining control of himself enough to say, 'Harry! Sorry, mate, do you need me to help you pack anything?'

Harry lifted a battered blue rucksack off the ground. It was not very full at all. Sirius knelt in front of him. 'Can I have a look?'

'Okay,'

Harry handed him the bag and Sirius looked through. 'I'll tell you what,' he said. 'I think Professor Dumbledore in there may have done a little shopping, so we have some clothes that will fit you.'

Harry nodded and took out some shirts and pants. Now all that was left was a tiny baby outfit and a drawing, albeit a very wonky drawing in faded black pen.

Sirius squinted, and so as not to hurt the boy's feelings, he lied, 'my eyes aren't so good. Can you tell me what this is?'

'It's okay,' Harry sighed. 'I know it's bad. I just didn't want to forget.'

Sirius laughed softly. 'What didn't you want to forget?'

'The dream,' Harry told him. 'I had a dream about a flying motorbike. And not only was there a flying motorbike, but I met a giant. It was strange.' Harry seemed about to say something else, but he didn't. He had the strange feeling the man, Sirius, had been in the dream as well, but he didn't want Sirius to think he was crazy. After all, this was his only chance to get away from the Dursley's.

Sirius felt the familiar tightening in his chest at the mention of that night. For that was what it was of course. A recollection of the night that Harry survived meeting You-Know-Who. 'Ah,' Sirius said lightly, trying to regain his composure. 'Was it fast?'

'You're different to other grown ups,' Harry observed intelligently. 'I said that to Uncle and he yelled at me about how flying motorbikes aren't real. You just want to know whether it went fast. It did.'

'I like motorbikes,' Sirius said, laughing.

'Okay,' Harry jammed his glasses back onto his face and Sirius held out a hand.

'Can I fix those for you?' Sirius asked gently.

'If you can,' Harry said doubtfully.

Harry's eyes were pretty fuzzy, but it looked like Sirius pulled out a brown stick, said 'Reparo,' and then handed Harry's glasses back to him, mended.

He put them back on in time to see Sirius slide the wand into his pocket. 'Was that…?' he trailed off in awe.

'A wand,' Sirius said casually. 'I'll let Dumbledore explain all that to you, though.'

'Okay,' Harry said again, dubious.

Dumbledore walked through the hallway, a smile on his face. In his wake, he left two very frightened Muggles behind. 'Harry,' he said. 'Shall we go?'

'Yes,' said Harry, quite excitedly.

'Would you like to say goodbye to your cousin?' Dumbledore said.

A fat, pink boy stumbled down the stairs at that moment. 'Bye, Potter,' He said meanly.

'Bye Dudley,' Harry said quietly, looking down at his scuffed shoes.

Dumbledore leant through the kitchen door. 'We're leaving now.'

'Good riddance,' Vernon snarled, his courage returning.

'Wont you say goodbye to Harry?' Sirius said.

'Just take him,' Petunia hissed angrily again. Harry, waiting out in the hallway, looked small and alone, the tips of his ears were red and Sirius had no doubt in the entire universe that he had heard what this vile woman had said.

'I will,' Sirius said, his black shoulder length hair falling in his sad grey eyes as he approached. 'He'll be happier with me than he ever was with you and your ignorant Muggle beliefs.'

Petunia stepped back frightened, eyeing the wand in his pocket. Vernon stepped in front of her, but Sirius brushed his hair back and stalked out of the kitchen.

'C'mon Harry,' He said cheerily. 'Let's wait outside for Professor Dumbledore.'

The stood outside in companionable silence as they waited for Dumbledore. Dumbledore strolled out a few moments later, raising a thin grey eyebrow at Sirius. He shrugged. 'Maternal instinct, I s'pose,' Sirius joked, his hand on Harry's shoulder.

'Very well,' Dumbledore held out his arm to Harry, who took it hesitantly. Sirius then took Harry's arm and they made a strange sight before they disappeared with a small pop.

They appeared in Grimmauld Place, a small square near London. Dumbledore and Sirius turned to watch Harry as he recovered from the shock of Apparating. He leaned over the gutter, looking slightly green.

'Are you alright, Harry, m'boy?' Dumbledore called, clapping him on the back and standing him up straight.

'Fine,' Harry gasped as he was wrenched upwards and then the nausea vanished quickly afterwards. 'What did I just do?'

'You Apparated,' Sirius said sympathetically, leading him over to a set of steps leading to a house. 'We'll explain when we're inside.'

'Okay,' Harry said, slightly overwhelmed.

He led Harry inside and down another set of steps, into a warm, large if slightly dusty kitchen. Sirius sat him down at the table and Dumbledore sat down opposite him.

'We're wizards, Harry.' He said.

'Wizards?' Harry said, astonished. 'Magical?'

'Yes,' said Dumbledore kindly. He pulled out a stick, this one a little longer than Sirius' and said, 'This is my wand.'

'Wow,' Harry said. 'Can I hold it?'

'Be careful,' Sirius added as Dumbledore handed it over.

Harry took it gingerly, and waved it a little. A red spark shot out the end, heading straight for Sirius. Thankfully he ducked in time, though a jar next to the sink cracked and fell in.

Harry gasped and put it down on the table. 'Sorry, sir!' He said, his back ramrod straight, his face scared.

Sirius began to get an inkling of how it had been with the Dursley's. 'It's fine, Harry.' He told him, leaning against the sink and whispering a spell to fix the broken jar.

Dumbledore took his wand off the table, and smiled gently. 'It's alright, Harry.'

'I broke a jar.' Harry said, as if it were the end of the world. 'I'll never be able to be a wizard like you.'

'You will,' Dumbledore assured him. 'Because this is my wand it got confused when you held it. You'll eventually have your own wand, which will obey only you.'

'Okay,' Harry said again, doubtfully this time. 'And Ap-Apparating?'

'A quick way for wizard's to get around, although some prefer brooms even though they're slower.'

'What do you say, Harry?' Sirius asked, 'Shall we go see your room?'

Dumbledore stood. 'Well, I'll go Harry.' He said pleasantly. 'I hope we meet again.'

'Thank you Professor, it was nice meeting you,' Harry said, respectfully shaking Dumbledore's hand.

'Goodbye, Sirius,' Dumbledore said kindly. 'I took the liberty of moving your things from Poppy's place to your room here.'

'Thanks,' said Sirius gratefully.

He stood with a hand on Harry's shoulder, the picture of fatherly love, watching as Dumbledore disappeared with a small pop.

'Shall we go and see your new room, Harry?' Sirius offered jovially.

'Okay,' Harry said quietly. He felt odd, like when you're invited over to play at someone's house that you don't know very well. Not that Harry had ever been invited anywhere, and if he had been, the Dursley's would never have driven him anywhere.

'Come on,' Sirius said, leading the shy boy up the stairs.

Sirius took a left, and opened the door of Regulus Black's old room. House elves had been in to clean up while he had been recovering. His mother's portrait had been removed; very strong house elf magic had been needed to do that, and the house had been redecorated to be warmer and more inviting. Unfortunately, Kreacher was still there, though he didn't do much cleaning, merely sobbed in his cupboard under the sink, begging for his mistress.

The room had been cleared of all the old things, now stored up in the attic, and the room was painted off white, a single bed in the middle, with a blue bedspread. There was an empty bookcase on one wall, white to match the wall and the chest of drawers at the end, and beside the bed.

'Wow,' Harry breathed. 'This room is huge!'

'I'm glad you like it,' Sirius laughed. Then he felt nervous again, like he was a little child as well. 'The bookcase is empty. We, uh, thought you might want to choose some for yourself. We can go tomorrow, if you'd like.'

'Yeah,' said Harry, who was walking around the room hesitantly as if worried he would ruin something.

'It's all yours,' Sirius told him. 'Knock yourself out.' He wasn't sure if that was the greatest parenting technique ever, but the kid deserved a little fun.

Harry placed his grubby rucksack on the white dresser and emptied the contents into the empty top drawer.

'Oh, yeah!' Sirius remembered. He opened the doors to the cupboard and Harry stared in awe. 'Dumbledore got them for you. He helped with redecorating the house too.'

Harry nodded, too shocked too say anything. In the cupboard were clothes. Heaps of them. Harry had only ever had two pairs of pants and three shirts, and he'd never had them first, Dudley had always worn them first and stretched them out. Not to mention Dudley was quite a lot bigger than Harry anyway.

'Well,' Sirius said lightly. 'My room is across the hall if you ever need anything. I'm going to go down and make us some sandwiches for lunch.'

'I'll help,' Harry volunteered.

'You don't have to,' Sirius told him kindly, 'you can stay up here if you want to.'

'I'd like to help,' Harry said softly.

'Okay,' he let Harry through the door first. 'Let's go.'

In truth, Harry was slightly nervous of having Sirius out of his sight, even for a few moments. He was worried it could all be snatched away from him, this big room, this amazing house, and this man who could tell him about his father and mother, would all be taken away and he'd end up back in his cupboard, Sellotape holding his glasses together.

Down in the kitchen, Harry washed lettuce, standing on a chair at the sink, his pudgy hands red from the cold water.

Sirius observed them, amused. He had no idea how it happened, because he'd certainly never had children himself, but no matter how skinny children were, and Harry was pretty skinny, they always, without fail, managed to have pudgy hands.

Harry gave him the lettuce, and they assembled ham, tomato and lettuce sandwiches, along with a glass of milk for each of them.

They sat in silence at the island bench on stools and through a mouthful of food, Harry observed intelligently, 'This could be fun.'

A/N: Okay, darlings, how was it?

Do we understand all of this?

-Harry is worried Sirius will desert him. Not because Sirius emanates an, "I will desert you," vibe, simply because Harry has never known an adult he could trust.

-Does Sirius seem slightly nervous? Not his usual self? Because of Harry. He's worried about doing the right thing by Harry and by his dead friends. He's just nervous about the whole parenting thing. He'll get through it. I promise.

I think that's it. Drop me a review on your way out!

Much love,

Remus'MarauderPrincess. (Indigo)