Chapter 4: Unlocking the Legacy

"You better not burn that coffee, boy!"

Harry suppressed a frown. It was the second Monday of break, and the Dursleys had spent the last week and a half shifting between staring at him in fear, and hurling insults his way.

"Of course, Uncle Vernon." Keeping his temper in check, it wouldn't do him any good to lose it now, not when he would be meeting Flitwick at the Leaky Cauldron at noon. 'Best not to give them a reason to stop me.'

Two hours later found Harry stepping through the entrance of Diagon Alley. Seeing he had time, he took a sharp left onto Main Street, and began the short journey towards Gringotts Bank.

Harry had been both surprised and pleased when Dumbledore had suggested he ask Professor Flitwick to tutor him over the summer. The ex-dueling champion had been all-too eager to agree, and after signing a few documents, and coming to an agreement on galleons, Harry was ecstatic to start.

Stepping passed two vicious looking goblins in full armor, and into the marble lobby, Harry tried to remember Terry's advice.

" You can't live your life not knowing your finances, Harry. You're going to want to see a banker, they'll be able to get your information so that you can see exactly what you have."

His friend had a point. During his only other visit to the bank, he had been so shell-shocked that he never bothered to figure out what exactly he had.

After brief introductions with the teller - Scabclaw; and giving the scar-faced goblin a drop of his blood. The goblin gave him a brief overview of his accounts, and recent account activity.

He was pleased to notice that even with Hogwarts costly tuition, his other purchases, and his arrangement with Flitwick, he would have more than enough money in his trust vault to get him through Hogwarts.

"Scabclaw?" If he had a trust vault it only made sense that he may have other assets as well.

"Do I have any other vaults?"

"You have one other vault, Mr. Potter. It belonged to your father and his family. Per the will of your parents, you will receive access to those finances, and any other heirlooms or property on either your graduation from Hogwarts, or your emancipation. Whichever comes first." Was the goblins bored reply.

Harry nodded his head in acceptance, before remembering the other reason Terry had wanted him to come to Gringotts.

"Sir, I was hoping to purchase a self-updating ledger, and I'd like to connect my key to my vault."

Purchasing a ledger, and connecting his key to his vault, Terry said, meant that he wouldn't have to visit the bank more than was completely necessary.

"10 galleons will be charged to your account annually for the ledger, and an additional 5 galleons will be charged to your account annually for the key service. Sign here if you agree to the charges."

A quick signature later and Harry was on his way to meet with Professor Flitwick.

The Leaky Cauldron had to be one of the most interesting establishments he had ever been inside of. Part inn and part tavern, London's main entrance to Diagon Alley was perpetually crowded.

Pushing his way through a crowd of middle-aged witches, he spotted Flitwick waving at him near the floo checkpoint.

"Harry!"

He smiled back. "Professor."

"Please call me Filius during our sessions, Harry. It will be much easier." He grabbed some floo powder off the mantle, before giving Harry instructions, and stepping through.

Filius's cottage was… charming. Harry determined as he inspected the small living room for the first time.

To his right was a small, kitchen with large, open windows. He could feel the soft breeze flow through the room, bringing with it the salty smell of sea air. To his left was a small bedroom, and directly in front of him was another doorway leading to a reasonably large office.

The man spoke as he led Harry through the garden, over to a table overlooking the Strait of Dover.

"I thought we could grab some lunch while we talked, Harry."

Grabbing an egg salad sandwich and a glass of lemonade, he smiled.

"Thank you for agreeing to tutor me, Filius. I was worried I wouldn't be able to practice magic all summer."

"Not a problem, Harry. You're not the only student I tutor over the summer." At this he paused, looking thoughtfully for a second, "although it's generally the NEWT students who are willing to give up part of their summer for education. I was pleasantly surprised when you came to me."

' I wonder if Flitwick ever taught my mother?'

"Did you ever tutor my mother, sir?"

A sad frown crossed his normally cheerful features. "Unfortunately, I didn't tutor students back then."

Changing topics abruptly, Filius continued; "what did you want to focus on this summer, Harry?"

He thought for a second; "well, sir, I was hoping to get through second year spell work in defense, charms, and transfiguration; I'd also like to make the dueling team next year, and maybe start looking at ancient runes."

Filius looked at him in amusement; "an ambitious summer plan, Harry." Standing up from his chair, he motioned for him to follow. "Let's head down to the dueling pit, I want to see every spell you know."

He was impressed. When Harry Potter had come to him asking for tutoring, Filius had been curious to see how far ahead of his classmates the first year was.

As his head of house, he was aware that Minerva thought highly of James and Lily's child, in fact, his scores in all his classes had been exceptional. But you could only determine so much from class work alone.

He watched intently as an arrow shot out of Harry's wand with a murmured ' Sagitta,' and the spells stopped.

"Where did you learn that last spell, Harry?" Shooting an arrow at your opponent wasn't on the Hogwarts curriculum, although it was popular among the upper year dueling students.

"I saw Tonks use it in a duel!" The boy's enthusiasm was infectious. "When I found it in a book I got for Christmas, I had to try it!"

Still, there was a difference between "trying" an advanced spell, and "performing" said spell. 'He was really dedicated to those strengthening exercises.' Filius reminded himself.

Making a snap decision, he turned back to his pupil; "how about a quick duel, Harry?"

The boy nodded his head enthusiastically and dipped into his dueling stance.

Filius examined the boy; left foot in front of his right, he stood in a narrow crouch, minimizing his exposed features, holding his wand in his right hand next to his ear, ready to attack at moment's notice.

' Interesting.' Instead of the standard defensive stance favored by most beginners, Harry's stance screamed aggression. If the boy had been older and more experienced, Filius thought he may have cut an intimidating figure.

His stance gave away his style, and the eleven-year-old opened with a quick stunner, followed up a second later by the disarming charm, and a reductor.

The charms professor shielded against each in turn, sending a light stinging hex directly at the boy. Harry shielded following up with another stunner, and Filius moved to the side, avoiding the spell altogether, sending another stinging hex at his opponent, who erected another shield.

"You're shielding too much, Harry! It's a 10-foot circle, dodge and counter!"

Filius spent the next two minutes sending spells Harry's way, shouting out advice as they went, before ending it.

"Not a bad first day, Harry." He said five minutes later with a smile. "While your spells need work, I don't see any reason why you cannot complete the second-year syllabus by the end of the summer."

' At least.' He thought, smiling to himself.

The young man offered him a smile. 'He thrives off compliments,' he frowned. Filius hadn't realized that self-confidence was an issue for the young man, apparently, he had been wrong.

"Take this portkey; it will activate at 11:45 AM every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday bringing you directly here."

Filius showed Harry back to the Leaky Cauldron before retiring to his study for the evening. He had a letter to write.

The cold was most unpleasant, he thought.

The rain was one thing; Marcel DuPont lived in the rainforest, after all. But the cold, North Sea air was hovering around twelve degrees, and that was far too cool for a mid-July morning.

Hovering a few feet to his right was the rather unpleasant Bellatrix Lestrange; it wasn't their first night spent under disillusionment charms, preparing for what was probably the most ridiculous idea he had ever heard. But the chance to command such a large army of friends was too good to pass up, ridiculous plan or not.

"How much longer will you need, Marcel?" He could hear the excitement in her voice.

' An excited Bellatrix Lestrange is a terrifying thing.' "A situation this delicate takes time, Bellatrix. The Dark Lord is exceptionally powerful." Complimenting her Dark Lord always seemed to calm the younger witch down.

Inferi were precious works of magic. Creating one was the most intimate experience a necromancer could have, tying your magic to your work, so she would only respond to her creator, the perfect companion.

Disrupting that magic could destroy her - unless you exercised patience.

"The Dark Lord has nearly 100 inferi surrounding the island, Lady Lestrange. But we will be ready as soon as Lucius keeps his promise."

She nodded. "Caroline LaPointe has recently come down with a severe case of Dragon Lung."

He turned back to his work, shivering in pleasure.

' Then again, taking control of another's inferi was an intimate experience.'

"Happy early birthday, Harry." Terry Boot said, taking the chair across from him.

He smiled. His cousin used to have extravagant parties, or large group outings on his birthday.

He normally spent his birthdays cutting the grass or running from Dudley's gang.

"Thanks, Terry."

Opening the gift, he was shocked to see a 10-galleon certificate to Eeylops Owl Emporium. The gift was extravagant. "Terry, this is too much."

The boy waved him off - "it was either this or a book on cursed objects, and I'd rather you not treat Rufus like your own personal owl."

He laughed; Rufus had been his primary source of contact with Lily while she summered in Cannes.

"Besides, I got an 'Outstanding' in transfiguration because of you."

"And I got an 'Outstanding' in potions because of you. " Harry countered.

Terry just shrugged him off.

He decided to change the subject. "So, how's working with your father?"

"Not too bad, dreadfully boring at times, but I like all the numbers."

Over the past ten months Harry had discovered that Terry Boot's family supplied potions to not only the Ministry of Magic, but St. Mungo's, and a litany of other businesses; and while under his mother's tutelage Terry had developed into one of the best potion's students in their year, he saw his future to be on the financial side of his family's business.

"What does he have you doing all day anyhow? It's not as though you can actually manage the business, you'd bankrupt your family!"

Terry frowned, ignoring the jibe. "That's the thing, my dad doesn't trust me to do anything, so he has me shadowing various people. Learning what they do. Most of them just ignore me, but some take the time to explain things, or assign reading, that's always interesting."

"Sounds dreadful." Harry couldn't imagine staring at figures all day in a stuffy office.

"It can be." Terry nodded his head enthusiastically. "But it's only during the week, so it's not too bad. How's tutoring with Flitwick?"

His eyes lit up. "Great! Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall are going to put me into third year charms and transfiguration!"

Terry barely reacted. " Of course, they are. It would be a waste of time to keep you in our class." Terry grinned in amusement; "Goldstein's going to be pissed."

"He's going to be more pissed when I beat him out for the spot on the dueling team." Harry returned viciously, there was no way that buffoon could ever beat him in a duel.

Boot nodded. "He wasn't that great in dueling club, he's got a solid understanding of the theory, he just can't perform."

"I'm not too worried about him." And he wasn't, he could beat anyone in their year, he was sure of it.

"So, you're going to Greece next month?"

Thirty minutes later and Terry had to end his rant on Athens and return to work, leaving Harry with the bill.

Diagon Alley was the most magical place he had ever seen. Fantastic, animated storefronts intermixed with street vendors selling everything from sneakascopes to street food.

He was about to head into Flourish and Blotts when he caught a familiar pale blonde girl, heading into Madam Malkins holding the hand of a frailer looking, younger brunette.

Daphne Greengrass had grown several centimeters since the end of term, losing much of the baby-fat she carried first year; her high-arching cheekbones seemed more well-defined, and the robes she was trying in vain to hide, were much too baggy.

The younger girl, she assumed was her sister, looked exhausted as Greengrass wrapped her arm around her gently, as if trying to protect her from the other patrons.

The comforting nature of the act looked good on the normally unapproachable Slytherin.

He remembered Lily telling him that Greengrass was quite the dueler. Turning into the bookstore, he couldn't help but look forward to facing Greengrass in the pits.

The cramped bookstore had been an unpleasant experience, and he quickly gathered his textbooks for years two and three before deciding on a few other books to study in his free time.

Madam Malkins and the Apothecary had been no less crowded, luckily 'Eileen's Eyes' was practically empty, and he was able to pick up a pair of permanent contact lenses in under an hour.

Turning into Eeylops, he was met with a wave of activity.

The patrons were yelling over one another to confused looking employees, while the birds screeched.

He slowly paced the store, stopping in front of a beautiful snow-white owl sitting calmly in her cage, disdain in her big, yellow eyes.

Sensing she was being watched, the owl turned her head towards him, before observing him quietly.

Nervously, Harry grabbed an owl treat, offering it to her between the bars.

The owl took the treat greedily before offering him a firm 'hoot.'

He grabbed the cage, a perch, and some owl treats and decided to call it a day.

It was a few mornings after his birthday, and he had just received a gift from Lily; a beautiful globe enchanted to show the constellations, asteroids, and meteorites as they would appear in the night sky.

Dear Harry,

Happy belated birthday! I hope it went well. Cannes was incredible, they have a large magical district, although the last few days of vacation had the locals in a panic - apparently the French Minister has fell ill and the media is in hysterics. My family returned a few days ago, and I already miss it terribly. The sun and the sea did wonders for me. Daphne says I look like a tomato.

Speaking of Daphne. She tells me that you were staring at her creepily while she and Astoria went robe shopping; you've got to be more discreet, Harry, if you're going to be stalking witch's.

Enjoy the rest of you summer,

Lily

He blushed. ' He was not stalking witches.' He thought as he quickly sent a response off with Hedwig.

Harry hated Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. It meant he couldn't practice magic, meaning he had to spend his spare time either reading or dodging Dudley in the park. He sighed as he looked at the rain hitting his window.

It had been an unusually wet summer, and even he got tired of reading all the time. He thought to himself, pulling out the third year Ancient Runes text.

"Do you know what an enchantment is, Harry?"

He was excited. For the last few weeks Harry had been begging his tutor to begin teaching him about the permanent aspect of charms.

"Enchantments are a form of semi-permanent charm tied to a specific area or object. To be considered an enchantment, it must hold for at least six months" He began. "For example, you can enchant a candle to always stay lit, or you can tie a 'Cave Inimicum' to an object and those on the other side of the enchantment won't be able to see you."

Filius nodded approvingly. "Very good, Harry. Do you know how to cast an enchantment?"

Harry thought for a second, "in theory you pour enough magic into the incantation, and it lasts forever." He said with a shrug.

"A blunt assessment, Harry, but correct. To successfully cast an enchantment, the caster must be able to manipulate their magic."

Seeing that he had Harry's attention, he continued. "For a witch or wizard to truly be able to advance with magic, they must take several steps. The first and most basic step is simply the ability to cast basic spells without much effort. The second step is the ability to manipulate your magic, to consciously control the power behind your spells."

"But I can control how powerful my spells are." He said, demonstrating his lumos.

"You're correct, to an extent. Would you mind demonstrating your aquamenti charm, Harry?"

Taking out his wand with a flick, a thick stream of water sprayed out like a fountainhead, covering the ground in front of him.

"Now Harry, I want you to narrow the stream of your spell, make it denser and shoot it across the room."

He thought for a second, picturing a thin stream of water erupting from his wand and shooting across the room.

He cast again, and to his delight, a thin jet of water erupted from his wand.

"Very good!"

Harry beamed.

"What did you do different that time?"

He shrugged; "before I was just trying to cast the charm, that time I focused on what I wanted the spell to accomplish."

Filius smiled again. "The ability to manipulate your spells in such a manner will lead to better endurance, and control. To successfully cast an enchantment, you need to be able to control how much magic you are channeling into your enchantment."

Flitwick grabbed a block of wood, setting it in front of Harry.

"For the rest of the time, I want you to try and enchant this block of wood to emit a faint, blue, glow. After each attempt, we are going to chart how long the spell lasted, and what process you took when casting the spell."

Harry groaned. Filius was very much an academic and had stressed the importance of taking notes about his attempts when exploring new magic.

As much as he hated the tedious process, he couldn't help but feel as though he was learning quicker in the long run, rarely making the same mistake twice.

"Apply disillusionment charms!" Bellatrix Lestrange snapped to the group behind her.

A second later the three teams of four, plus herself and DuPont were nearly invisible in the pitch-black sky above the prison of Azkaban.

"Travers!" She snapped, grabbing the man's attention. "You and your team take the East wing, there should be no more than 4 auror's, dispatch of them and make lots of noise. Rawle's your team takes the West wing, and the remaining auror's."

The two men nodded, and she turned her attention to the last team leader; "Rosier, your team will be in charge of protecting Marcel."

Bellatrix took a deep breath, calming the adrenaline that was coursing through her veins. It had been years since she had the opportunity to truly satiate her blood lust.

"At this time of night, there should be no more than 10 auror's, and the warden stationed on the island, when the shift changes in 3 minutes, we should have a brief window to get into place. Do not get captured, use your portkeys if you have to."

Eric Travers turned his Nimbus 2000 towards the east, beckoning for his team to follow.

He was nervous, he admitted to himself. During the last war he had been too young to lead any raids, and while he was proficient with a wand, it had been years since he had had an opportunity to take part in battle - he wasn't so sure he still had it in him.

Travers had been surprised to receive correspondence from Bellatrix after all this time, nevertheless, Lucius had promised to award his father with a lucrative ministry contract if he took part, and he could hardly refuse.

He motioned for his team to stop as he took stock of the situation. He counted five auror's and frowned; ' so much for having them matched.'

Eric then signaled for two of his team to take the left while he and Parkinson covered the right.

Hearing an explosion to the west he grinned; 'Right on time.'

Seeing that the auror's had turned to face the explosions, he took advantage of the opportunity sending a killing curse at the auror closest to him. Parkinson had the same idea and a second later they outnumbered the remaining enemies.

"They're under disillusionment charms!" He heard a witch shout as he hopped off his broom, dodging a bone breaker as he did so, returning fire with a violent stream of curses.

Next to him he heard a scream of pain, as Huxley hit the ground, bleeding from his stomach. A split second later and Huxley was dead, hit by Parkinson's killing curse. Travers nodded at the man whose disillusionment charm had failed some seconds before.

In that instant he felt the wards fall around the island as a dozen new auror's appeared, surrounding him and his remaining team.

The next second the area erupted in spell fire. Travers conjured a brick wall, only for it to be demolished a few seconds later, turning to his left he hit an auror with a well-placed blood-boiler. Knowing it would be fatal, he turned his attention back to the battle, dodging a bolt of lightning before dipping into a crouch and firing spells as he started to make his way closer to the shore.

A half dozen inferi began to crawl out of the sea, as the auror's in front of him looked on in horror as they started to attack.

Seeing that the situation was in-hand, he turned to Parkinson. They looked at each other through the holes in their porcelain white masks, gave each other a brief nod, and portkeyed away.

Thomas Rawles moved a strand of thick, gray hair out of his vision and laughed as he sent another Thor's Hammer at the west embankments, causing the well-warded prison to shake in violence.

He cackled again at the destruction he and his team were causing as the man next to him exploded in a scene of gore. Unlike Travers team, he had assembled the most destructive group of people he knew for this mission - hell bent on demolishing the walls of the legendary prison.

Turning back to the group of auror's that had just appeared near the shore, he smiled as inferi began to rise from the sea floor, attacking the auror's from behind.

' I haven't had this much fun in years!' He thought to himself, hurling his favorite spell at the wall in front of him.

A few seconds later a handful of thin-looking prisoners began to emerge. Letting the inferi do their job, Rawles turned to the growing group, motioning for his men to start handing out quills.

"My friends!" Rawles began in his most grandiose tone. "If you wish to accept sanctuary, grab the quill and say, 'I wish to escape.' And you will be greeted with fresh food, a warm bath, and a soft bed!"

Marcel DuPont watched as the first wave of reinforcements arrived near the docks. ' Just as Bellatrix said they would.'

He frowned slightly as he saw Travers and his team portkey away, ' cowards,' he thought, looking to the west he spotted Rawles in a heated duel with several auror's as several prisoners began to emerge from the various holes in the prison walls. 'Lestrange was right about the wards.'

Throughout planning Lestrange had insisted that for the auror's to rapidly respond to an attack, they had to disable all wards on the prison for a short period of time, leaving the medium security prisoners to be protected by merely brick and mortar.

He smiled ruefully as he took in the chaos below him, his confidence in Bellatrix's plan increasing just a little bit.

' And she kept her word.' He thought as he continued to awaken his friends hiding just beneath the icy waters surface.

That evening he had received word that Caroline LaPointe had succumbed to Dragon Lung, and that Francis was being sworn into office immediately.

The necromancer began humming to himself, directing his army like a maestro conducting an orchestra.

He laughed as he watched his children rip a pair of auror's a part, limb by limb. But that laugh turned into a frown a moment later as a torrent of fire eliminated a half dozen of his friends.

Marcel re-doubled his efforts and continued the attack for several minutes more before the dark mark appeared in the sky above, and he portkeyed away.

From underneath her disillusionment charm, Bellatrix Lestrange stalked quietly down the empty corridor to where she knew the warden slept.

Oh, how she yearned to take part in the greater battle, but she was the only one competent enough to complete the ultimate task, so she steadied herself and continued, reaching the warden's chamber doors seconds later.

Bellatrix was surprised by the lack of protections on the Warden's room; an advanced locking spell and some minor protective enchantments were no match for her, and she quietly entered.

The room consisted of a wardrobe, a small desk, and a bed with a single sleeping figure in it. Quickly casting a ' Hominem Revelio' charm to confirm that it was just the two of them, she stalked forward till she was mere inches from the sleeping man's face, and cast the killing curse, shuttering in pleasure as the spell erupted from her wand.

Taking just a second to enjoy the feeling, she headed over to the man's desk, dispelling of the simple protective charms and grabbing a set of keys before making her trip to the basement, where the maximum-security prisoners were held.

Bellatrix pouted as she took a glimpse outside. Part of her was hoping that the auror's would put up a better fight and she would have to jump into the battle. But that was clearly not the case, between the Death Eaters and the inferi, she wasn't needed.

She felt them before she saw them. Redoubling her occlumency, she focused on her happiest memory, trying to ignore the half dozen or so dementors that littered the maximum-security ward.

The Patronus Charm had always been difficult for her, but with some focus, she was able to send her swan after the disgusting creatures, driving them to the far side of the ward.

"Oh, husband dearest!" She cooed, deciding to have a little bit of fun. "I've missed you!"

"Bella?" A raspy voice croaked out. "Is that you?"

Bella scowled. She forgot how annoying Rodolphus could be, always stating the obvious… although he did seem to be in better shape than his idiot brother, who was staring intently at the wall a few cells down. 'They will need more help than I thought.'

"No. It's that stupid mudblood girl Dolohov used to keep as a pet, I've developed an attachment to him and long to see him again." She replied sarcastically, unlocking several cells as she did so.

Her husband smiled, briefly embracing her. "Is our Lord back?"

"Not here." She replied, as she gathered Rabastan, Crouch Jr., Rookwood, Dolohov, Avery, and the others, handing them a quill.

"We have much to discuss."

And with that, the group of Death Eaters portkeyed away.

He woke from his nightmare with a start. Shaking his head, the thin black dog slowly transformed into a thin, pale man.

Taking a second to orient himself, Sirius Black took a glance outside the small window in his cell, catching a glimpse of spell fire as another explosion shook the ancient prison.

' The Order? Have they come to rescue me?' He grinned maniacally, before a frown settled across his face. ' No… this has to be Voldemort.'

Down the hall, he could hear Crouch Jr. yelling in derangement. "They've come for me father! They've come to free me from your prison!"

" Shut up." Was the frustrated response of Rookwood from the cell next to Crouch. "Or I'll make sure the Dark Lord leaves you to rot."

He had become accustomed to the insane ramblings and haunted screams of the other prisoners. He had even gotten used to viewing his former colleague at the ministry, Augustus Rookwood, as a traitor.

His thoughts were disrupted by a massive silver swan chasing away the dementors.

" Oh, husband dearest!"

The voice of his cousin filled him with fear as he transformed back into Padfoot and retreated to the corner.

He watched subtly from the corner of his cell as Bellatrix blasted holes in several walls, before using a key to free the rest of Voldemort's most loyal Death Eaters.

"No time to waste, dear husband." He saw her pause to hand the others something, ignoring the shouts of some of the inmates left in their cage. "We don't have time to waste here."

And with that Bellatrix and the others were gone.

Padfoot collected himself, taking a glance around the cage he noticed a small hole in the corner of his cell where bars met concrete.

Lying down on all fours, the animagus inched his way forward, ducking his head under the bars and out towards the corridor. Lying his canine body on his side, he slowly scooted his way out of his cell.

For the first time in ten and a half years, Sirius Black was able to see beyond his cell. Heading in the direction he had heard Bellatrix enter from, he quickly found himself in the middle of a battle.

Keeping to the shadows, Sirius watched as a group of inferi began ripping the limbs off several auror's.

He felt a brief urge to try and help the auror's; 'they abandoned you, Black. Ignore them and escape with your life!'

He steadied himself, noticing a dock with a rowboat at it several meters away, the black dog began to make his way towards the sea.

It wasn't the best plan, he knew. There was a high likelihood that he would be attacked by inferi the second he tried, but he couldn't stay.

As if responding to his thoughts, the inferi disappeared and the spells stopped as the attackers escaped to safety.

In the moment of quiet he took stock of his surroundings, noticing a broom and a wand next to a dead man in black clothes and a white mask, he grabbed both in his mouth before seeking out cover.

Ducking behind a crumbled wall, Padfoot became Sirius, and picked up the dead man's wand, feeling magic for the first time in over a decade.

He frowned as his magic felt weak. Taking a deep breath, he cast a quick disillusionment charm on himself; the charm worked as he felt as though someone had just cracked an egg and dumped it on his head.

He looked down at himself, seeing a faint shimmer, he frowned. 'That won't last for long.'

Mounting the broom, Sirius pushed off and soared into the air, a twisted grin on his lips as he flew higher and higher.

' So smooth!' He thought as he soared into the slowly rising sun, glancing down he saw, on the glossy handle, the words ' Nimbus 2000' engraved. ' I wonder if James has one of these?'

He thought as he rose gleefully into the air, heading towards the mainland.

Sometime later an exhausted Sirius Black landed in the woods, collapsing into a pile of leaves.

Ignoring the pain coursing through his body, he hid his stolen wand and transformed into Padfoot.

A slow, five-minute walk later, the dog found himself on the side of a muggle road. Taking a glance around, he saw a diner some ways down the road.

A half hour later Sirius was having the best breakfast he had had in years. A busboy taking the trash out had seen Padfoot's thin figure and had returned with sausage, bacon, eggs, and a dish of water.

He ate greedily, not taking the time to savor the delicious taste of bacon, or the cheesy eggs he assumed he'd never taste again.

' I better leave.' He thought. 'Muggles don't like strays in their towns.'

Sirius vomited into the leaves. Exorcising his meal in a disgusting mess of half-digested food, his body unable to stomach the grease after all his malnourishment.

He was at a loss of what to do next. He was sure he was a wanted man by now, and with no resources he had precious few options.

Coming to a quick realization, he began to calm himself. Running through the exercises his father drilled into him when he taught him occlumency.

Once calm, he grabbed the wand next to him, and called forth his magic slowly. 'I don't need to splinch myself.'

As ready as he'd ever be, Sirius Black took a deep breath, disappearing with a crack.

He reappeared a moment later in the woods near his family's ancestral home.

Transforming back into Padfoot, he made his way down the empty street to #13 Grimmauld Place.

He felt a pleasant warmth as the family wards recognized him, and the bleak townhome became visible.

Hesitantly he reached for the doorknob for the first time in 15 years. The last time he had been in this house his mother had sent a crucio at him.

The door creaked slightly as he quietly stepped in.

The entry hall was covered in dust, while the disgusting house elf head memoriam stuck to the wall to his right was covered in cobwebs.

' I wonder…' He thought to himself. House elves lived extraordinarily long lives. ' It could be possible…'

"Kreacher!" He called out.

A decrepit looking elf appeared in front of him a half-second later. Staring at him with wide eyes.

"Nasty, traitor Master has called for Kreacher?" The miserable elf's usual sneer seemed to be laced with shock; ' probably surprised that I'm still alive.'

"I want you to run me a bath, make up my room, and grab me the appropriate potions. I've had a lengthy stay in Azkaban, so I'll need the strongest nutrient potions we have on stasis, as well as some dreamless sleep potion."

The old elf grumbled, but otherwise disappeared with a pop.

An hour later, Sirius Black was soaking in his bath, trying to sort out his emotions through tears as the adrenaline from the previous 18 hours began to wear off.

He cried as he remembered the loss of his best friend and his wife.

He cursed in anger as he recalled his foolish actions, rushing right into Wormtail's trap. That anger was soon directed at the Ministry for throwing him in jail without even charging him with a crime.

But most of all he felt guilty. Guilty for leaving James and Lily's child all alone. Guilty that he couldn't be Harry's godfather.

With a sudden determination he called out.

"Kreacher!" The elf appeared with a soft pop.

"Grab me a quill and some parchment, please." A plan beginning to form in his mind.