Harry was several streets away before he collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging his trunk. He sat quite still, anger still surging through him, listening to the frantic thumping of his heart. But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook him: panic. Whichever way he looked at it, he had never been in a worse fix. He was stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go. And the worst of it was, he had just done serious magic, which meant that he was almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. He had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry so badly, he was surprised Ministry of Magic representatives weren't swooping down on him where he sat.
Harry shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent. What was going to happen to him? Would he be arrested, or would he simply be outlawed from the wizarding world? He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank even lower. Harry was sure that, criminal or not, Ron and Hermione would want to help him now, but they were both abroad, and with Hedwig gone, he had no means of contacting them. He didn't have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the moneybag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was stored in a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London.
He'd never be able to drag his trunk all the way to London. Unless ... He looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. If he was already expelled (his heart was now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldn't hurt. He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father – what if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the Cloak and flew to London? Then he could get the rest of his money out of his vault and ... begin his life as an outcast. It was a horrible prospect, but he couldn't sit on this wall forever or he'd find himself trying to explain to Muggle police why he was out in the dead of night with a trunkful of spellbooks and a broomstick.
Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak – but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more. A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel he was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.
He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched on his wand. He had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him. Harry squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then he'd know whether it was just a stray cat or – something else. 'Lumos,' Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them, Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes.
Harry stood frozen, wand held aloft, as he stared at the large shadowy figure lurking in the narrow alley. His heart hammered in his chest, apprehension and curiosity battling within him. The creature's eyes seemed to glow eerily in the wandlight as it gazed back at Harry, unmoving. He wondered if he should cast a spell, but some instinct stopped him.
Slowly, the hulking form began to emerge from the darkness. Harry's eyes widened. It was a massive dog, as large as a bear, with shaggy black fur and pointed ears. But it was like no ordinary dog - an ominous intelligence shone in its pale eyes. The grim-like creature stepped closer, its movements fluid and soundless despite its size. Harry's breath caught in his throat. He knew of only one creature that could take this form.
"A...a grim?" Harry whispered, his voice barely audible.
The dog studied him a moment longer, then nodded its great head. Before Harry's astonished eyes, the grim began to change. Its limbs lengthened, front paws morphing into hands. Fur receded into pale, sunken flesh. Moments later, a man stood before him - gaunt and bedraggled, with a haunted, hollow-eyed gaze. Long dark hair fell in tangled waves around his shoulders.
Harry's mind reeled in disbelief. It was impossible...and yet...
"Who?" he choked out. "Who are you?"
The man stared at Harry a moment more, a blend of emotions crossing his wasted features - relief, sorrow, pride… madness, an unhinged look that set Harry's senses on high alert.
"Harry," he rasped, in a voice long unused. "My godson."
Harry stood frozen in shock, his body unable to move as a hundred questions swirled through his mind. Before him stood the ghost of a man, his face hauntingly familiar yet unrecognizable at the same time.
Godfather? The word echoed in Harry's mind as he struggled to make sense of it. But how could this be? He didn't have a godfather, not that anyone had ever mentioned. Surely if he did, his dreadful relatives would have given up custody faster than Ron could devour a custard cream.
As Harry's thoughts raced, the man before him seemed to sense his confusion and his expression softened, though it quickly shuttered again. "I am Sirius Black," the man spoke, his voice low and gravelly. "I am your godfather, Harry."
Sirius held out his empty hands, palms facing up in a gesture of peace. Harry's eyes darted around, searching for any sign of a wand or weapon, but saw none. And for some inexplicable reason, that made him relax just a fraction.
Harry's doubt must have been etched into every line of his face, for Sirius quickly added, "I swear, I am not here to harm you."
"Why are you here then?" Harry finally choked out, his voice trembling with emotion. "Why- Why now?"
The street they stood on was eerily quiet and unnaturally still as if the world had held its breath in anticipation. Harry waited with bated breath for an explanation, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Sirius' features were molded into a blank mask, similar to the way Slytherins could effortlessly hide their true intentions. But his eyes betrayed him, revealing all that he couldn't say aloud. They were filled with sorrow and concern, but there was also something dark and foreboding hiding just beneath the surface.
The words seemed to catch in Sirius' throat as he let out a weary sigh, glancing around at their surroundings. The dimly lit alleyway was hardly the ideal location for such a conversation, but it seemed that Harry wouldn't budge until he heard an explanation. The gaunt man's eyes darted wildly, almost as if he was afraid to speak the words that were about to come out of his mouth.
Finally, Sirius lowered himself onto the cold ground, his movements lacking any sort of grace. He took a deep breath and began to speak, his voice tinged with sadness and regret. "You have every right not to trust me," he started, his gaze fixed on Harry's face. "But I need you to know... your Dad was my best friend."
And with that, Sirius launched into a tale that was so unbelievable, it had to be true. It was a story filled with adventure and betrayal, sorrow, and a desperate cry for redemption. As Harry listened, the weight of the past two years started to press down on him like a heavy burden. He couldn't believe that he had unknowingly shared a dorm with his own parents' traitorous best friend in rat form. The realization made him feel physically ill. As Sirius' tale came to an end his voice rang out with a solemn vow, his words laced with the power of his magic. He swore to never harm Harry in any way, his unwavering gaze fixed on the boy before him. The determination in his tone was palpable and Harry could see the sincerity shining in his eyes.
But as Sirius looked at Harry's trembling form and recalled the deadly threats that he heard Vernon Dursley shout at the young boy as he ran away, Sirius knew that Pettigrew could wait. At this moment, Harry's safety was all that mattered. And for the first time in his young life, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of importance and care from someone else. With tears in his eyes, Harry believed every word that Sirius said. He could feel it in his bones that this man was telling him the truth, that he would always put Harry first above anything else. It was a startling realization for a boy who had never truly felt valued or protected by anyone before.
"So… you want to take me with you?" A little bubble of pure joy had appeared in Harry's chest, its fragile walls threatening to burst at any moment. He couldn't believe it - after all this time, someone was finally here to rescue him from the cruel clutches of the Dursleys. But a twinge of doubt crept in as he remembered the danger they were both in. "But Sirius...aren't you running from the Aurors right now? Won't they come after us?"
Sirius let out a deep, rumbling laugh that sounded strangely like a dog's bark. "Yes, pup," he said, his eyes shining with determination. "We're going to leave the country. It's not safe here for you or I right now."
Harry's heart swelled with both fear and excitement at the thought of leaving everything he knew behind. Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "I'll make sure we have everything we need to stay hidden and protect ourselves," he promised. "And when you're older and have been trained properly, we can come back. But until then, you deserve to live without fear and danger constantly looming over you. And don't worry, I will make sure to equip you with all the necessary tools to not only survive but thrive."
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing - the chance to escape and start a new life with his godfather. At that moment, the bubbling happiness in his chest expanded into pure joy, filling him with hope.
The quiet of the night was broken on August 6th, 1993 as a Godfather and Godson were reunited. The stars seemed to align as they disappeared from Magnolia Drive with a small pop of apparition, changing the course of history in the process. Due to a single decision made in that moment, the entire future of the Wizarding World was about to shift. And with that, the dominoes of change began to fall quickly.
Aurors descended upon Number 4 Privet Drive in response to an incident of accidental magic, only to discover that Harry Potter was missing. According to his relatives, he had run away. The alarm was sounded and soon Dumbledore learned of his precious pawn's disappearance as authorities combed through the Wizarding World in search of their lost savior.
But Dumbledore was no fool. He knew that Sirius Black's recent escape from Azkaban paired with Harry Potter's sudden disappearance could not be a coincidence. Yet even after searching through the Black Properties and turning over every stone, their efforts proved fruitless.
September 1st came and went.
But still, there was no sign of Harry James Potter.
For years, the Wizarding World had searched for Harry Potter, the boy who lived and defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort. But even after all this time, he still had not been found. Some believed he was dead, while others spread rumors that he had run off to the Muggle World in fear. But the most sinister theory of all was that he had been kidnapped by the notorious mass murderer, Sirius Black.
As months turned into years, speculation was all anyone had about his whereabouts. The mystery only deepened when Voldemort quietly returned in 1995, regaining a human body without anyone knowing until he attacked the Ministry of Magic in 1997 with his army of death eaters, most freshly broken out from Azkaban mere hours prior.
Their mission had been to retrieve the prophecy about Voldemort and the missing Harry Potter, of which they proved to be quite successful. This bold move would then solidify the belief that Harry was likely dead, as the Prophecy between the two wizards had shattered years ago, rendering it null and void. The Wizarding community was left reeling with questions and uncertainty swirling around the fate of their hero, and the fate of their future if there was no hero to stop Voldemort a second time.
Over the last three years since Voldemort's public return to power, the Wizarding World in England had been locked in a stalemate between Voldemort and his Death Eaters and Dumbledore and the Order of Phoenix alongside what was left of the Ministry of Magic.
The Dark Side would win one battle, and then the Light Side would win the next. Death Eaters killed muggle-borns as quickly as the Order smuggled them out of the country. Voldemort filled his ranks with dark creatures and wizards just as quickly as the ICW sent Dumbledore reinforcements.
Without the prophecy child to tip the balances, neither side could win or lose.
It was now August 2000. Exactly seven years after the disappearance of Harry Potter, that a dark wizard not belonging to Voldemort, stepped foot back into England. His power was such that both Voldemort and Dumbledore felt him arrive, and both felt uneasy as neither Chess Master wanted a new unknown piece to join the board.
Not that this new piece would be joining their little game of power plays, oh no he wouldn't. He would rather wipe the board clean of both tyrants and bathe in the bloodshed that would come after.
Haris Sirius Black, once known as Harry James Potter, had finally returned. But he would be no one's salvation.