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Fire, Ice, And Blood
Harry P. & Sirius B. - Words: 8,423 - Rated: T - English - None - Chapters: 3 - Reviews: 1 - Updated: 13-02-2018 - Published: 22-01-2018 - by demisexualdemigod (FFN)

Synopsis: From a young age, Harry could never understand the differences between the way he was treated by the Dursleys and the way the other boy in the house was. But he never thought it could change. How will the re-emergence of one lost godfather alter Harry's little life?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Warnings: Child abuse, probably slash in later chapters, lots of Dumbledore bashing.

From Chapter 1:

He [Harry] stopped dead when he entered the kitchen to find a man standing at his stove, in the middle of cooking some eggs, humming quietly to himself. The man looked up at him, the movement seeming nearly painful, his sunken grey eyes sparkling as he looked at the small boy in the doorway.

"Harry, pup, you've grown!"

Sirius had discarded the wand quickly. He knew Dumbledore wouldn't risk having Hagrid take his pup far and he could easily travel the distance as Padfoot. Dumbledore didn't trust people, that Sirius had learnt. He was a manipulative bastard who was more than aware of people's true allegiance.

That fact Sirius had figured out quite early in his imprisonment, watching who was imprisoned and who wasn't, listening to the babble of Bellatrix. He would miss her dearly, nothing else about Azkaban but her. His older cousin, she had always been nice to him, even when she found out about James and then Remus. She had been so mad but she hadn't told anybody, had protected him. She was a Death Eater, but still family.

She had told him of the trials, had sobbed over her husband's immediate sentencing to be Kissed, had been shocked by Lucius and Snape's release - advocated by Dumbledore himself. Even when Snape had said the worm was the Secret Keeper, which he had apparently found out by listening to a conversation between Voldemort and one of his followers, and Dumbledore had dismissed it.

He was shocked at first but now, after years of pondering, it was clear.

The only thing that was not clear was who that damn witch, the one who helped him escape.

He was sure he'd figure it out eventually, but the name was nagging at his mind.

He looked down at her wand and decided the most appropriate disposal of it. Catching it on the white painted gate to his best friend's ruined home, he pulled back sharply, snapping the wand and letting the magic of the core be released before he chewed at either end of the wand, growling a low playful growl that sounded pitiful to the ears of any human. He then left the now useless twigs on the ground before jumping the fence to the house, intending to see if the spare wands he knew James kept were in there still. He had even got one for Harry, off of a wandmaker from Wales, who agreed reluctantly that making a wand for an underage child while their core was still pure and true and undamaged would be beneficial in their situation, for then it would be only able to be used by Harry. He remembered that meeting so well remembered the pride he felt as he watched Harry find his perfect wand.

Peter may have been Secret Keeper for the cottage, but he didn't know all the secrets of the Potters.

Sirius nudged the front door open, trying not to whine as the old wards accepted him like a warm hug, the taste of his friend's magic overwhelmingly potent even after all that time. If he were human at the time, he would have shed a tear...

He could not risk being found, even with the wards, Albus or Minerva or Remus could get in there easily. He found James' study, never entered by Voldemort and surprisingly unharmed by the blast of magic that had destroyed the house when Lily's protection fell into place, going in quickly and finally shifting to his human form, only out of necessity. He rummaged through the drawers of the desk, looking for any sign of the box James had bought.

He pushed back papers of the fifth drawer he had searched of this godforsaken desk, a small flaw in the making of the drawer caught his eye before he made sense of it.

He carefully lifted the papers - cases James was going through for the Ministry, likely handing back through Minerva - before moving the false bottom of the drawer too, lifting it and leaving it to the side as he grinned. There they were.

In a long box, the carved symbol of the wandmaker on its top, just waiting to be used. He opened it quickly, picking out the dark wood of his wand, revelling in the feeling of his magic singing inside him, finally reconnecting after those seven long years in Azkaban. He shrunk the box, grinning like a madman as his magic surgingsur gingerbread inside him, intending to take all the wands with him. If he hid them somewhere safe, it would pay to have the spare ones, even if they weren't his, and of course, Harry would need his true wand, custom made as it was.


He looked through what was left in the secret space. Shrunken books on magical heritage, parchments, several Gringotts keys, a full list of the contents of all the Potter Vaults, a bag of potions, even a copy of the Potters' will be shoved inside. But what caught Sirius' eye the most was the sealed ring box, a standard in Most Nobel and Ancient Houses, such as Potter and Black, far bigger than it was meant to be, however. Meaning there were multiple rings. Multiple rings - Harry's heritage had to be something impressive then, and the books made sense.

He sorted through what he would need, leaving the books in the knowledge he could come back eventually if necessary. He took each key and ripped a strip of cloth off the bottom of his prison uniform trousers, ripping it to a more reasonable size before tying it through the runic symbols on the handle of them, creating a makeshift keyring, tying a knot, of course taking the ring box and papers for the corresponding vaults. He took a moment to think before unshrinking the wand box and instead of shrinking each other item, careful to target the potions inside the potions bag as well as the bag itself, and placing them inside the wand box. It would fit inside a bag, he reasoned, sure there would be some clothes he could use somewhere in the house. Even in the laundry room, he could spell them clean if necessary. He wasn't as fussy as he used to be.

He put the false bottom back in the drawer and the papers back also. He closed the drawer and quickly straightened up the desk before leaving the room, clutching the wand box tightly. He found James and Lily's room easily, stopping dead in the doorway. It seemed the outward damage was way more. The inside of the house looked completely fine, undamaged. But what stopped him was not that, but rather the letter on the bed.

He walked towards it slowly, stumbling slightly as he did so, almost sobbing at the all too familiar handwriting of James. It was a letter, he realised, to him.

Dear Sirius...

Dressed in jeans, a Led Zeppelin band tee, and a black leather jacket, Sirius left Godric's Hollow feeling good. He had cleaned up, showered, clipped his nails (he had been tempted to paint them but decided it was too time consuming), shaved, and calmed his hair and trimmed it.

He felt absolutely great.

He needed to find Harry first, find him and make sure he was okay and take him with him to Remus. He had an idea of where he might be, thanks to James and his ingenuity. And of course Lily's charmwork. He just didn't know how to get there...

He contemplated for a second before reaching into the bag he had brought with him and taking out the Muggle money, an idea forming. He would take the Muggle Ta-key to Old Mrs Figg's house, Lily had made friends with the old woman and knew it was near the Dursleys house. With any luck, they hadn't moved and Harry would be nearby.

But how did you get a Ta-key from here?

Sirius sighed, his plans stopped dead as he remembered that he now had a wand. He would just Apparate to Wisteria Walk. At this time, nobody would notice, he thought.

And so he apparated to Wisteria Walk, the sound of doing so silent with his new and compatible wand.

It was chaos in the Ministry.

Sirius Black's escape was a national threat that had to be neutralised as soon as possible. This time, he would be kissed if he was found.

The female Auror, a half-blood by the name of Sarah Pevensey, had been interviewed and nothing found during her interrogation. Nobody knew how Black had escaped and nobody had linked the dog and the escapee. It was noted that the dog had taken Pevensey's wand and accidentally apparated and chewed and broke the wand, proving to them that it could not be Black. Black wouldn't chew a wand, having been trained an Auror he would know better even if he were a dog animagus, which they all doubted. They determined the dog was dead as a reportedly similar looking black dog had been taken to a vet and died in a surgery after it had swallowed a foreign object.

Blake had also been interviewed and a Confudus charm had been discovered to have been cast on him, supposedly by Black. Blake and Pevensey's testimonies matched despite and Blake was sent to a healer to have the charm properly removed and be monitored during recovery. It was essential witches and wizards were monitored after such spells had been cast on them as they could have permanent effects on a person if not removed in time. They could drain the magic and leave a person nothing more than a miserable and outcast squib.

A paper would be released in the morning announcing Black's escape and the reward on his head, five thousand galleons plus any damage done to property or person during his capture. Only if he was captured.

Alastor Moody, a good six years from retiring, heaved a sigh as he looked at the assignment to find Black. No leads, no sightings, absolutely nothing to go off...

At least it gave him a break from training those pathetic cadets who didn't know a silent stunner from a silent Cruciatus, maybe a trip to some more magical and tropical islands in search of the fugitive. He knew that's where he would go if he broke out of Azkaban...

Sirius' eyes darted around nervously as be landed in Wisteria Walk. He noticed lights on in the house he was outside. He could tell it was Figg's by the numerous part kneazles on the lawn, who either hissed at him or just gave an incline of the head and strutted off. He stared, blinking once, twice, before regaining his senses and looking around at who else was on the street. Nobody. Good.

He shifted into his Grim form, stretching and shaking himself out, giving the kneazles a good-natured grin before sniffing the air and following the familiar scent of his pup. A little bit of James, a little bit of Lily, a little something special, and the pure power his pup held that smelt like danger and electricity in the weirdest way.

He followed the scent to one Privet Drive, a weird long road with weirdly identical houses that were barely distinguishable. Every car was the same damn make in the same basic colours (black, red, occasionally a blue or white) and every front garden was identically trimmed. It was... Perfect.

He hated it.

He followed the strong scent of Harry to a house with an absolutely immaculate appearance and a polished brass number four decorating the unremarkable door. Careful not to cross the wards, he shifted to his human form cast a silent wandless Tempus, knowing at - bloody hell, it was past midnight? Damn - this time of night, nobody would be awake.

He frowned slightly at the potency of Harry's scent, which only increased as he passed through the wards, the feeling of Lily's protective magic bringing a tear to his eye. The Maraudess, they had taken to calling her with her proficiency to prank them and heal them and even protect them at times. She would often bring up shields around James and Sirius or around Sirius and Remus and around her and Remus when prank wars would ensue... Which was quite often, in all honesty.

Contrary to many people's thoughts, he was as close to Lily as he was to James. Lily had been the first to find out about his sexuality after all when they were out at a little cafe she loved in a Muggle town. They had gone on outings like that a lot, at first just to irritate James - to get him back from pranks and incessant flirting respectively - but eventually for each other's company. Lily was like a sister to him.

He only then realised he had stopped and that silent tears were rolling down his face as he reminisced. He yanked a handkerchief out of his pocket, the still somewhat fussy Pureblood still remaining in him as he had taken the chance to pick up one of the perfectly folded red and gold handkerchiefs he remembered him and James buying for a Yule Ball, both deciding to don the brightest red and gold Gryffindor dress robes they could find. James had worn gold with red embellishments, Sirius had worn red with gold embellishments. It had been amazing. They had shone with house pride as they argued over who got to dance with Professor McGonagall first. Sirius had won.

He had to forcefully yank himself out of the memories and stalked towards the door and rapped as loudly as he could on the wood, hoping to stir somebody. When he didn't hear anything from the house he repeated this. He could hear groaning and complaining fro upstairs at being woken and thunderous footsteps as if an obese elephant was coming down the stairs in solid iron shoes. He wondered house was reinforced to handle the stress of such a person coming down in amusement.

The door was thrown open by a purple-faced man that fit the description he had formed minus the shoes, much to his disappointment. The man glared at him.

"What do you want?" He snapped. "At this ungodly hour of the night?"

Sirius almost felt a bit sorry for the man before he noticed something as he breathed in and almost let out a growl.

Blood. Harry's blood. That's why his scent was so strong, not because he was an active and social boy as Sirius had hoped who played with the neighbours along the street but because his pup was bleeding.

The look of anger had the man, Vernon Dursley, the man who had made Lily cry at his and her sister's wedding by calling her a freakish and dirty bitch' among several other less than pleasant things until Sirius dragged her away from the wedding - of course not until after Lily had gotten in some intricate spellwork to make the man impotent. It only lasted for a week, unfortunately, but it was a great spell that he took the effort to remember - tried to shut the door in Sirius' face, but he shoved his way inside with murder in his eyes and on his mind.

"Where's Harry?" He demanded.

"H-Harry... He's not here! He's - um - he's at a - at a sleepover!" the bulbous man before him managed to get out. Sirius sneered in disgust, a look very similar to that of the youngest Malfoy a few years down the line - one that reeked of superiority.

"Alright. Where? He needs to be picked up immediately." He said, an idea forming in his mind.

"I don't know! His friend's parent picked him up and was going to drop him back too." He excused with one of the worst lies Sirius had ever heard.

He took to ignoring the man, following his nose to the cupboard before his shoulder was gripped by a meaty hand and he was thrown back from the cupboard, too weak from Azkaban to fight back against the sudden attack.

But his wand was faster than any fat Muggle filth!

Oh, gods, he sounded like his family...

He didn't care, Harry was more important.

"Get out of my way, right now, or I will curse you into oblivion. You think was Lily did on your wedding day was bad? I'm a million times worse." He threatened, watching the man's piggy eyes bug and he recognised Sirius. Trembling slightly, he moved out the way, disappearing up the stairs to Sirius didn't care where.

He went to the cupboard, throwing the door open with a silent unlocking spell. He stared down at his little godson and struggled to hold back his gasp for the sheer amount of blood. Harry...

Half of him wanted to scoop up the boy, Apparate to Mungo's and let the Medi-Wizards deal with it. But Harry would be swamped there, people would try to get at him and he would not be safe. With Sirius here, he was safe and the Ministry wouldn't look here, they thought Sirius wouldn't be able to get through the wards. And if he got a haircut and some of those Muggle eye-colour-changy-things they wouldn't recognise him, he hoped. Those in the wizarding world were surprisingly idiotic when it came to such things. If they couldn't sense magic altering his appearance, they wouldn't look any further at him.

He would have to stay here. If he went to Mungo's it'd be too dangerous. He couldn't call Poppy, she'd rat him out to Dumbledore. He had to stay with Harry. He couldn't go back to Azkaban. Ever, ever again.

He knelt in the cupboard, spelling the light on and brightening it significantly so he could see. He didn't know as much healing magic as he would hope to deal with this but he hoped the combination of spells and potions would be enough.

And, he began.

When Sirius felt something press into the back of his head he could curse. Fucking Dursley.

Fucking Dursley had one of those shooty bangy things. He couldn't remember what they were called. He was only relieved that Harry was out of the woods so he could deal with this little problem... Well not so little.

He turned around, his wand in hand, standing up calmly, towering over the large man, no fear of the shooty thingy, as he had no comprehension of how truly dangerous the Muggle technology was.

Bella has poisoned him, honestly, what the hell was going on with him today? It made him wonder, trying not to get distracted.

"What is it, little man? Do you have something to say?" He asked, his hands gripping the gun. The adrenaline that ran through him gave him more strength than he could have logically, or maybe it was the magic finally reunited and reconnected with his body that allowed him to bend the barrel of the gun to a ninety-degree angle.

Dursley stared at him in shock as the gun was then wrenched out of his hands and a wand was held to his face.

"Oh, I am going to enjoy this." Sirius's growl was more Grim than human as he incanted loudly, waking up the rest of the house excluding the small boy in the cupboard, "Stupify!"

Sirius had always been the best at the transfiguration, but this took the biscuit... Was that right? Took the biscuit?

It did help when your targets resembled animals so closely. And because of the wards acceptance of him and the untraceable charms on his wand allowing him to do magic without even the great Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump and Headmaster of Hogwarts, Self Proclaimed Leader of the light, voted Most Flexible In Order To Shove His Head That Far Up His Fat Ass, being aware.

Even so, this was too perfect.

The large hippo took up less space than Vernon Dursley usually did and was a horrific shade of purple that would have made the strongest man sick to his stomach. It was flopping around in a cage, smashing into the bars with silenced bellows, taking the stinging hexes that burned him every time he touched the bars. Sirius thought it was less than the bastard deserved after he saw all the damage done to his little pup.

Cracked skull...

He only hoped the man would suffer more with the extra spells he had placed on him and he would have one last thing to do before he left with his little Harry.

Whip marks and welts all over his back.

He couldn't wait to set up his little trick.


Cuts from a knife.

Broken bones healed wrong.

Too many lacerations, everywhere, the worst on the head...

His eyes drifted to the horse-faced bitch herself, now the picture of perfection, a rat at with a huge long neck and face, thin as a twig, trapped on a running wheel that shocked her every time she stopped.

Burns on his hands and arms and one particularly bad one on his leg.

It had taken everything for him not to inflict every injury that Harry had ever received onto the rat. She deserved it.

Chemical burns in his throat from being forced to swallow...

He had to shut his thoughts off and look towards the final animal, a normal human. In all his evilness, he couldn't hurt the poor Dursley boy, he was only a boy, he didn't know what he was doing. He would have to make sure the boy was taught the error of his ways. So he just sat down and had a sincere talk with the boy before knocking him out with a sleeping spell. The worst he could do was give him a bad dream in which he saw everything he had done to Harry in his place.

He sighed, changing the Dursleys back finally and stunning the adults, releasing them from their little prisons. He left them in the upstairs room before heading down to make some food for him and his pup. They'd be gone before the Dursleys woke up.

He shoved some bread in the Toasty, water in the teapot, a cup of milk in the miniwave, and cracked two eggs into a pan, humming Stairway to Heaven cheerfully as he did so. He'd finally see his pup up and healthy after a night of healing and of punishing the Dursleys. He had, of course, finished dealing with his previous pup before he dealt with the relatives.

He heard quiet footsteps coming towards him and looked up, the movement hurting his still fragile body, and a genuine smile lit up his face, but he could feel the strain creeping in seeing how small and malnourished his baby pup was. He could only force out the practised words without crying.

"Harry, pup, you've grown!" He exclaimed. It was so different seeing his pup up and moving, even if he still seemed to be in pain and hurt and far too small. Unless he was wrong about the year. He looked to be about five years old. It couldn't be '85 though. His Tempus and the Dursleys' calender both agreed though, Harry was eight years old, still a baby but so small for his age, oh so small...

Harry just stared at him in pure confusion. Who was this strange man in his kitchen, cooking eggs for goodness sake? He didn't dare move from his spot in the doorway.

The man was staring at him back, at least until he noticed his eggs were burning, at which point he hurriedly turned off the stove. His eyes again returned to Harry. Neither said a word for a moment.

"Are you an angel?" Harry whispered, not realising immediately he had spoken aloud. He hadn't done that for a long time. And he wasn't in pain either, he just felt a bit lightheaded... He blinked, confused when the man burst into laughter at Harry's innocent question, walking over to him and kneeling in front of him with a wide smile that almost scared Harry.

"No, pup, I'm not an angel." He said, amusement clear in his voice. "I'm just like you. I'm a wizard."

Harry backed away from the clearly insane man. Magic didn't exist! And Harry could not be a wizard - they were powerful and strong. He was weak, pathetic, unlovable. He couldn't be a wizard. It made no sense.

"I... But magic isn't real," Harry said. A moment passed before he realised his mistake. Mistakes. He had said the 'm' word and argued with an adult! Those were bad things.

There was another reason he couldn't be a wizard. He was bad. And wizards were good, nice, brave. He was none of that.

The man has adopted a very sad look as he watched him. "Have you ever made something impossible happen when you were mad or upset, or even just really excited?" He questioned. He continued when Harry looked up at him, startled. "That's accidental magic. It's completely normal." He said gently.

Harry thought back on his life, all the times he'd done something freakish and made Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia mad. He winced at the thoughts and looked up at the man again, gathering his confidence as he did something very bad.

"Prove it." The words came out as barely a whisper, but the man seemed to have heard it fine as he chuckled and pulled out a stick. A wand, Harry rationalised.

With a few flicks of his wand, the table had set itself and the food, two eggs with two slices of toast per egg, loaded itself onto plates and floated to the table. Another flick had the kettle pouring out since tea, adding milk and sugar on its own. Another - a cup of milk soared out of the microwave to have a few scoops of drinking chocolate powder stirred into it. The drinks joined the food on the table.

"Let's eat!" The man said cheerfully, picking up Harry, ignoring flinch at the touch, setting him down on the table in front of the plate with the hot chocolate.

Okay, maybe magic was real.

Over breakfast, Sirius explained who he was to Harry and that he was there to take him away from the Dursleys for good, to take him to his own home and gain full custody of him once his name had been cleared. He had explained Harry's own story, Voldemort, and the war. In his mind, it was all information Harry needed and deserved to know.

He would tell his pup the truth, always, James and Lily would want it no other way.

He had, of course, left out some details about Harry being a worldwide celebrity, wanting to give him a few years of a normal childhood before breaking that one to the poor boy. He had no doubt Harry would not be fond of crowds after his... Experiences.

Harry had agreed to come with Sirius and to Sirius adopting him as soon as possible. It had taken a lot of convincing the child that he wasn't going to hurt him and he was truly innocent, but he had gotten there eventually when he showed Harry part of the letter James had left.

Dear Harry...

The words broke his heart but helped his cause. Just as the clock chimed for ten, Sirius and Harry left the Dursleys house with every item that belonged to Harry.

They left the house, arm in arm, apparating away to a house far away from the pristine houses of Privet Drive, leaving the residents to go back to their now perfect little lives.

27th Jan 18 - Minor edits to grammar and spelling mistakes
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