707Chapter 1: Finding Harry
Here's another one. I've got writer's block on Weaponized Cuteness, so I'm taking a break from it. I don't think this one will be long, pending on my muse. She's a bitch. Depends on my health too. See the previous comment.
I got this from a prompt from one of my reviewers, but the name was lost. Sorry for not being able to shout out to you. If you recognize it and want a shout out, leave a review and I'll do it.
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Little six-year-old Harry Potter was in his cupboard under the stairs crying. He hated it here at the Dursleys. They punished him for the smallest things. He never got enough to eat, and they called him names. They even hit him on occasion. Never hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough to give him pause.
He was being punished now because he had once again gotten better grades than his fat cousin, Dudley. This happened all last year too, in their first year of primary school. Harry had learned the alphabet before Dudley and had been praised by the teachers for it. He had been put in his cupboard for hours with no dinner when he brought the letter home.
It followed that pattern all year. Harry never stopped though. He made sure that he got good grades and made his teachers proud. He felt a sense of pride when they did, like he was worth something to someone. To himself.
He won't bow to them. The Dursleys. He was tenacious like that. They aren't worth it. Stupid Dursleys. He was going to do well in school even if it meant that he had to spend the rest of his childhood in this stupid cupboard.
But, oh, how he wished someone would come and take him from this horrible place. He desperately wished for someone to love him. He was so lonely. He never had anyone hold him or tell him they loved him.
He had to listen to Aunt Petunia tell Dudley every day that she loved him, and that she hated Harry. He listened to her coddle Dudley and ignore him. He watched Uncle Vernon spend money on Dudley and then decry spending anything on Harry, even food money was too much for that fat man.
So, he cried, and as he cried, he wished. "I wish someone would please, come and love me," he said to the air. He said it over and over again and again. He prayed to whoever would listen to his pleas. He didn't know if there was a God, but he wanted there to be one. One that would grant his wish and take him away from here. He just wanted to be away from the Dursleys. He hated them.
His prayers didn't go unnoticed. Up in the heavens a goddess heard his wish and thought, "This could be fun."
This was a goddess of chaos. She was a minor goddess of little importance, not many people had heard of her. Eris was her name. She looked to the future and saw what chaos could be experienced if she did one little thing. So, she sent this wish to a man in a prison and a plan.
That man was curled up in his dog form and trying to keep warm in the dank cell he was currently housed in. Right now, he was dreaming of being free.
The goddess sent those words to the man and healed him at the same time. All the years of mental and physical ailments were gone. He was still slim, but not starving. His mind was clear, and he was thinking correctly for the first time in five years.
"I wish someone would please, come and love me." The man heard the little boy's voice in his head. He knew right away that it was Harry's voice. How he knew was instinctive. He had to get to his godson. He got up and looked around the cell to find a way to escape.
The window was too high up and too narrow. There was only one other way out of the room, and that was the door. The bars were just wide enough that his skinny dog frame could barely squeeze through them. He pushed his way through with a lot of effort. There was a moment when his chest stuck that he thought he might not get through, but he released his breath, and it collapsed his chest, and he squeezed out. He was free.
He sneaked down the corridor and stayed to the walls. The dementors didn't care that there was a dog running around the prison. They only cared about the humans and their emotions. Their sole reason for being was to make humans miserable. Dogs didn't even register to them.
The human guards might care if there was a canine there though, so he stuck to the shadows. It was difficult and he almost got caught twice and had to backtrack three times. Still, he made good time and was at the water's edge of the island in no time. It was bitter cold on the shore. The wind was biting into him down to his bones. He knew the water was going to be colder, but he was determined to get to Harry.
'I'm coming, Harry,' he thought to the gods and jumped from the lowest cliff into the water and started swimming. He was correct, it was freezing in the water, but the action of swimming helped.
His dog form was much better at swimming the currents than his human form, but it was still rough going. He was fighting the tide and struggling to make it to the shore, which was miles away. Sometimes he just drifted, letting the current carry him closer. Other times, he swam for all he was worth. Soon enough, he made it. Exhausted, he climbed to the sandy beach and collapsed.
A couple, watching the sunset, came by and saw him. He was resting there, barely breathing, looking like a victim of a boating accident. His long black coat was matted, and he had some scrapes from the rocks on the shoreline. They took pity on him and took him home and nursed him back to health.
"Come on, boy, eat something," the woman said, holding some ham to his mouth. There was a bowl of water near her knees.
He was lying on a bed of towels in a warm kitchen. A fire was going nearby and there was the smell of stew cooking on the stove. All in all, it was a nice scene to wake up to. He remembered similar scenes at the Potters when he got hurt fighting the Death Eaters, and it made him sad for a moment. Then he remembered why he was there.
Sirius Black, for that is who the man was, had enough wits about him to know that he needed to eat, so he nibbled on the meat. Then he sat slowly up and drank from the bowl of water, trying not to spill it on the clean floor. Lily hated it when he did that, so he tried not to.
"Good, boy," the man said, petting the dog. He rubbed him down with a towel and combed out the tangles in his fur.
Sirius was getting warmer and stronger by the moment. He would have to remember to do something nice for them when he got back on his feet. He wasn't sure what, maybe pay off their mortgage anonymously or something. But he would do something nice.
They nursed him for three days, until Sirius could stand on his own. Then in the middle of the night, Sirius disappeared. The couple was sad, but figured he went home.
Sirius moved like he knew where he was going. He knew that he had to get to Petunia's. She had Harry, he was sure of it. She was the only one who Harry would want to be rescued from. So, he moved north, swiftly away from London, dumping trashcans over to get the food out of them, and drinking from puddles as he went.
It wasn't until four days of wandering that he realized that he didn't know what Petunia's married name was. He also didn't know where she lived, only that it was outside of London. He had no idea how to find out either. He knew her given name, but she had been married for years, and hadn't gone by Evans since high school. He knew her fat husband's name was Vernon, but that didn't help him either. He couldn't look up Petunia and Vernon in the phonebook.
He sat depressed for all of ten minutes. Then he turned and headed to the only place he could go. His grandfather's.
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Arcturus Black III was upset. His grandson had escaped from prison, and while he was proud of the fact that the boy had done something no one else ever had, did it have to be that? Why couldn't it be for clearing his name?
Arcturus knew Sirius was innocent. He would never have betrayed the Potters. The boy would no more cut off his manhood then betray the Potters. Let alone his godson. He'd be dead.
As it was, the poor boy had been in that prison for five years now. His mind might not be right. The dementors were not known for playing nice. He only hoped Sirius was smart enough to stay in his dog form. Yes, he knew about that too.
He lamented about all the lost time spent on trying to get those clowns in charge to give the boy a trial, but they had their heads so far stuck up each other's arses, that they wouldn't do it. Malfoy. That popinjay was the bane of his existence. He was the man keeping his godson in prison, under the false belief that his son would inherit the Black title. No matter what Arcturus said about the matter. The man still believed that if Sirius died in Azkaban, Draco Malfoy would inherit the Black title. Fool.
At this point in time, Arcturus was unwilling to give money to get Sirius out. He didn't think it would work, for one. And he didn't want to deprive his heirs of their inheritance, for another. He was pragmatic like that.
He was sitting at his desk trying to figure out how to find his wayward grandson when suddenly there was a warning from the wards. Someone had breached the perimeter. He got up and palmed his wand. He moved to go and see who it was, on the map. It showed who was on the property at all times.
It was the same concept that Sirius had based his Marauder's Map off of. The boy didn't think that Arcturus knew about it, but he did. He learned about that particular piece of magic in Sirius' last year of school when the boys lost it. Pettigrew had a big mouth and was complaining about it quite loudly in Diagon Alley. He had been shopping that day and overheard them talking about it. He had been so proud that Sirius had stolen the spell work from him. It was quite cunning of him.
The map showed that Sirius was coming up the pathway in the back of the property. He was coming at a fast pace, so he must be in his dog form. The elderly man went to greet his grandson via the back door. Moving through the house at a slower speed than the younger man, Arcturus made it to the kitchen about the same time as Sirius did. He opened the door to greet the man and stood there until Sirius turned into a human.
"What are you doing here?" the old man asked, pointing his wand at the younger man. He wasn't sure how much of Sirius' mind was there. He didn't want to take the chance that he was deranged.
"I need your help, Grandfather," Sirius said, desperation in his tone. He looked good for someone who had been in Azkaban for five years. Arcturus expected him to be sicklier. Sure, he was skinny, but he looked like he was healthy. "I need to find Harry, but I don't know how. He's with Petunia," he added as if that explained everything.
"Who is Petunia?" Arcturus asked, not knowing that name. He thought Harry Potter was being raised by someone Dumbledore picked out.
"Lily's sister," was the answer.
"He's with the muggles?" came the response to that.
"Yes," Sirius said, spitting on the ground as if he despised the thought.
"Get in here," the old man demanded, opening the door wider to let his grandson in the house. "I don't know how, but we'll find the boy. There is no way I am leaving my heir in the hands of muggles." It wasn't that he hated muggles, per se, but he felt that wizarding children were better served being raised by wizarding parents. Or at the very least having a wizarding primary school. However, no one would hear of it. 'Eleven is early enough,' they all said. Arseholes.
"I thought I was your heir," Sirius said as he followed his grandfather to the study. He was when he went to prison. Maybe that had changed.
"You were, until you did something stupid, like get caught and thrown in prison for a crime you didn't commit. Leaving me to deal with that arsehole Malfoy," Arcturus stated, going to his desk, and pulling out a book from his spell locked drawer. Only his magical signature would open it. When he died, only the Head of the House would be able to open it. They would bear the ring.
"Oh," was all Sirius could say to that. His grandfather was correct. Damn Pettigrew. He was going to kill that bastard.
"Yes, I know you're innocent," the old man said as he thumbed through the book. He was looking for a locator spell that didn't need anything from the recipient. It would be tricky, but there had to be something. It would probably border on dark, but he was a Black, so he cared little about that.
"How?" Sirius asked, tilting his head a bit. He thought everyone thought he was guilty. "Why didn't you try to get me out?" he asked, wondering why if the man thought he was innocent did he leave him there?
"Don't be a fool. Anyone with an ounce of sense knows you would never reveal the Potters. You were like family to them. Besides, you are the boy's godfather. I am sure you took the vows," Arcturus said, looking at him for confirmation. When Sirius nodded, he continued, "Which means you wouldn't be alive if you did betray them," he finished.
"And you didn't get me out because?" Sirius asked again.
"I tried, but that bastard Malfoy kept paying the government off. I didn't want to outbid him until there was nothing left in the vault," the old man explained. He sat up triumphantly. He finally came across the spell he was looking for. It was borderline dark, but it didn't require a human sacrifice, so there was that. "I'll need some of your blood," he said, looking at the other man.
"What? What for?" Sirius said, not wanting to willingly give up his blood for any reason. There were just too many things that ones' blood could be used for. And many of them are mind controlling. He had enough things trying to take over his mind these last five years, thank you very much.
"To find Harry Potter," Arcturus said, pointing to the spell in the book. "It requires the blood of a relative, you are the closest thing," he said, reading the reference. "You're his godfather, it should work. Magic should hear that call." He read the spell and saw that he had all the necessary ingredients in the ritual room. Which was good because he didn't feel like brewing right now. He would if he had to, but he was getting up in years and old age didn't make for a confident brewer. Sirius would have had to, and he was a lousy brewer.
Sirius slumped in his chair. For Harry he would spill his blood. He trusted his grandfather to a point, and in this he would have to. "Fine," he said, resignation in his tone.
"Don't worry, it's not like I'm going to bleed you dry. I only need a few drops. Seven, to be exact," the old man said, gathering up the book and heading to the ritual room.
It was in the library in a secret room that only the family knew about. Oh, Malfoy thought he knew where all the rooms were in this house, but he didn't know the half of it. It burned him that that pompous man thought his son was the next Lord Black, well he had another think coming. There was no way in Hades that Arcturus was going to let that Death Eater become the Head of his family. Especially after all the grief he had given him over Sirius.
Once he got the boy's name cleared, then he was going to nail that man's coffin to the ground. They just had to figure out how to clear Sirius' name. Or get him out of the country and get him a fair trial, somewhere nonbiased. Australia sounded right. Maybe the States. Each had their faults, but they didn't pander to the purebloods.
"I already agreed," Sirius said, getting up and following. He had been to the ritual room twice now. Once when he became heir, and once when he was thirteen and needed to be cleansed from something his mum had done to him. His grandfather had not been pleased. Walburga had been punished most severely for that. That didn't stop her from being a bitch of a mother though.
They made it to the circular room and to the middle, where stood a dais. It was around four feet tall, and six feet long by four feet wide. It was rectangular in shape and had a curvy edge to it. There was a spike in the middle for blood sacrifices. Around the edge of the top was a groove to catch the blood and drain it in a cup on the left side of the platform. The Blacks were a dark family from long back. They would not be using this part of the dais today.
Arcturus went to the far wall and grabbed some thick parchment, ink, and quill, and then went to the platform and stood on the right side. He spread the parchment out and held it down with some stones that he picked up from the base of the dais. Putting a stone on each corner, he drew a diagram that was depicted in the book. It was intricate and had many geometric shapes that intertwined. There were some constellations as well, and some runes that needed to be placed just right. Once he was done, he blew on the ink to make it dry faster. Then he put the quill and the ink pot back in the cupboard where he had retrieved them.
He then went to the potions cabinet and grabbed a few potions and herbs to do what he needed to enhance the parchment. He went back to the dais, and waved Sirius, who had stood silently watching him, to join him. He poured the potions on the empty part of the platform and then placed the parchment on top of the potion and then sprinkled the herbs on top of that.
Then he chanted a spell to seal the whole thing. It glowed a bright green for a flash of a second and then settled down. He then had Sirius cut his hand and drop seven drops of blood on the parchment's top center. There was a bright yellow flash and then nothing.
The blood spread and a map started forming. The writing was in blue for some reason, and it was in block letters, like it was being typed. Not that the two wizards would know that. The lines were thin and thick, depending on the size of the road they were depicting. It was of London and its surrounding areas.
It took around five minutes to complete and as it grew so did the men's impatience, and then there was a glowing white dot. Right above the dot were the words, 'Harry James Potter'.
"Found him," Arcturus said, pointing to the dot.
"I can see that," Sirius said, ready to run from the room and retrieve his godson.
"Stop," his grandfather said, grabbing his prison shirt. "We need a plan."
"I need to get him now," the dogman said, trying to free himself from the tight grip.
"You can't just go and get him dressed like that, you fool. At least get cleaned up," Arcturus said, moving them to the door.
"Yeah, I can do that. Do you have any of my clothes?" Sirius asked, finally stopping fighting him. He moved on his own violation. He extracted his shirt from his grandfather's grip and walked on his own.
"Yes, let me think of a plan while you shower," he said, going towards his study. "Come and find me when you are clean," he added, patting the younger man on the shoulder. "We'll do this right," he said, not above using dark magic to get the boy free from abusive relatives. Well, he didn't know they were abusive, but there had to be a reason that Sirius was worried.
"I will," Sirius said, going to where he knew his old clothes would be if there were any. He found some there and pulled out some pants, shirt, and trousers. There were socks and shoes to be had as well. The shoes looked kind of tight, but a spell would loosen them up just right. He gathered these all up and prepared to freshen up for the first time in five years.
"I'll think of something," Arcturus said, tapping his finger on his chin in thought. "Go clean up, then you can eat. We'll have your godson out by this evening, I swear it," he added solemnly.
"I'll keep you to your word," Sirius said, closing the door to the bathroom. He was looking forward to not looking like an escaped convict. His grandfather was right, he didn't want to scare his godson. It would be best if he was presentable.
"I promise," the old man said to the door. He went to the study to plan. It was what he did best.