November 2, 1981

Sirius is in Azkaban. I have sat here staring at the words for what seems like hours… even now I can't seem to wrap my mind around it. They say he betrayed the Potter's, what a laugh. He loved them more than his own family, more than me, as much as that hurts to admit. Sirius is in Azkaban.

November 3, 1981

Harry Potter has been removed from our world, supposedly for his own safety, by Albus Dumbledore. It's difficult to argue with the logic of it, except for the fact that the only person I can think of that has a legal claim to the boy is Lily's sister – the same sister that I recall Sirius saying hates both Lily and Magic. Who would put a child in that kind of environment? Perhaps I am wrong, but even so, I think I will do some investigating into the matter. The Potter boy is related to the Black's, if a little distantly, and I want to make certain he is being properly taken care of… for Sirius, and for what little honor the Black name has left.

November 4, 1981

I still have had no luck in either the matter of the Potter boy, nor in the matter of the Horcruxes. While I am unable to check what remains of the Dark Lord, it is my belief that he has lost much of his strength in becoming incorporeal and will unlikely be able to gather enough strength to become corporeal in the years to come. I have time yet for my search. As to the Potter boy, as I become more acclimated to the ways of Muggles, I can almost feel myself closing in on him. I have remembered Lily's sister's name, Petunia, and hopefully will have some luck searching for Petunia Evans.

December 21, 1981

I have found the boy.

December 31, 1981

The boy was in terrible condition, and still is if I am completely honest with myself. What those Muggles did to him is despicable. The level of neglect – and they have only had him for months! What would he have been like if it were years before I found him? Would he even have still been alive? The list of things wrong with him; malnutrition, a diaper rash that looked like the skin had been stripped off his bottom, bruises… I nearly cried when I got him home and ran the diagnostics charms on him. I would have liked to have taken him to St. Mungos, but I couldn't take the chance that Dumbledore would get his hands on Harry again. Thankfully I am more than sufficient at potions; otherwise I would have had no choice. As it was, I still sleep with the boy in my room so I can make sure the fever has truly gone away. Now I worry because he has yet to cry, or call for his parents, he simply whimpers. It is pitiful. He still flinches when I make any sudden moves; I think he expects me to hit him for even that small movement. I think my other hunt will have to be put on hold indefinitely. No Potter, no Black should be afraid of the world around them, we are a proud family, if nothing else.

January 23, 1982

He spoke! He was calling out for his mother, and it broke my heart to have to deny him – how do you tell a two year old that their mother was killed? Even so, he spoke, and I hold out hope that he will start to cry, or indicate his needs in some way and not just continue to give me that incredibly sad look. It's not the normal baby babble, but I'll take what I can get. He is cute though, he follows me everywhere. I have to be sure he is in bed soundly asleep before I go into my Potions lab. Outside of the house he clings, not wanting to be put down for even a moment when we have to go out. At least there is some trust there.

There Prophet has yet to report on his disappearance; I can only assume that Dumbledore doesn't want to admit that he has lost 'The boy who lived'. I hope he never finds us; I would kill to keep Harry away from those people.