|With Time Comes Trust
Author: antea-aevum PM
Sirius Black comes to get his 10yearold Godson from the Dursleys and uncovers what Harry was really dealing with throughout his ten years.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Drama - Harry P. & Sirius B. - Chapters: 12 - Words: 35,670 - Reviews: 790 - Favs: 370 - Follows: 67 - Updated: 03-10-04 - Published: 02-13-04 - Status: Complete - id: 1729769
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Notes: This is AU. Some facts may be incorrect, characters a bit ooc, but remember, it is AU. A few things you'll need to know: Sirius was never in Azkaban and Harry is 10 years old. I understand that there is plenty of these fics around but I just had to have my own version. *beam*
This fic is rape and slash free. PG-13 for abuse.
Disclaimer: Hem Hem. Nah. Don't own them.
With Time Comes Trust: Morning, I'm your Godfather
It was a warm summer's day. A slight breeze could be felt often cooling the residents of Privet Drive, bringing along colorful butterflies which fluttered and fought over sweet smelling flowers in every garden.
Old Grandpa George, resident number 6 sprawled in his lawn chair, large cowboy hat over his head and sunglasses shielding his watery eyes protectively. He held a cold drink in his right hand, its condensation dripping off onto the grass below, the paper umbrella stuck in the glass drooping sadly over one corner.
Resident number 2, Matilda Maurine was talking on her cordless phone leaning out of her window. The wind brought her shrill voice all the way down to every house in sight and now and then, irritated women and men could be seen poking their heads out and waving their fists angrily at her.
Sandwiched approximately in the middle of these two houses is respectively, Residents Number 4 well known for the owner's desperate attempts to prim up their garden and win the Annual Best Looking Garden prize.
A round beefy man lay on the grass, eyes closed, a tiny miniature fan beside him mixing up a breeze of its own. His son, a fat mean looking boy that had to have his clothes specially tailored because no clothes his age could fit his fat figure, was busy trying to catch one of the butterflies flying over his mother's rose bush. He had already captured one and now, it lay dead at his feet after its wings had been torn from its body and left to die.
"VERNON!" A bony figure threw open the front door. "Phone call!"
Uncle Vernon hurriedly heaved himself up from the ground, dusted his soiled pants and lumbered into the house.
"Dudley'kins?" Aunt Petunia asked sweetly. "Do you want anything cold? It is a bit hot, isn't it?"
"Yes, I do," Dudley answered without breaking his concentration on the butterflies. "And I want my bar of chocolate and my potato chips."
"Yes, dear, give me a minute," Aunt Petunia disappeared.
Aunt Petunia made her way past her husband who was putting on his honey sweet voice on the phone, and into the kitchen. Her 10-year-old nephew, Harry was wiping a dish dry with a towel.
"Are you done yet?" Aunt Petunia asked impatiently.
"Not yet, Aunt Petunia," Harry answered in a small voice.
Petunia glanced at the pile of wet dishes in the sink. "Could you work faster?" she snapped. "In 10 minutes if you are not done, you are not to have dinner."
"But I didn't have dinner yesterday either," Harry whispered clutching the plate tightly in fear that it might drop and break.
Petunia whirled around, her face a mask or anger and hatred. She lifted her hand and slapped her nephew hard on his cheek. The force knocked Harry off his feet and the plate crashed to the floor shattering in tiny pieces. "Damn you!" Aunt Petunia screamed. "Why must you ruin everything, you freak!" She grabbed Harry by his shirt and hauled him up to his feet. Tears begun to stream down the child's cheeks, the left cheek bearing five red finger marks.
Petunia lifted her hand again and rained blows down the tiny body of the 10-year-old ignoring his pleas and cries. She pushed him aside letting him fall on the cold floor, in a broken heap. Harry sobbed silently, scrubbing his eyes trying to make the tears stop. His arm was bleeding where he had fell on a broken shard of porcelain from the plate.
"Take this!" Aunt Petunia slammed down a tray laden with a tall glass of lemonade, a large bowl of chips and a enormous slab of white chocolate. "Give this to Dudley and don't drop it!"
Trembling, Harry got up on shaky legs, ignoring the stabbing pain in his ribs. His right ankle hurt when he walked and he limped to take the heavy tray out to the garden. Uncle Vernon had put down the phone and he strode out not noticing Harry, his tiny frame almost hidden by the tray. He knocked into Harry, the tray airborne for a few seconds before crashing down onto the floor.
Uncle Vernon roared, Aunt Petunia her face red with anger and Dudley, grinning in pure pleasure was the last thing Harry saw before pain started to overtake all his senses.
Minerva McGonagall walked down the hallway heading to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office holding a stack of papers. "Banana bandanna," she said. The gargoyle swung aside to admit her into the room. She walked briskly in and laid the papers on Dumbledore's desk.
"Here are the names of the first-years starting in September," Minerva pushed her glasses up her nose.
Albus picked up the sheaf of papers and shuffled through them. He stopped at the name 'Harry Potter'. "Ah. Young Harry is finally old enough, is he?"
"He'll be eleven on the 31st of July," Minerva answered. She looked a little worried. "Shall we send someone over to give him his acceptance letter? He's living with Muggles..."
"You are afraid they wouldn't understand," Albus said out exactly what was playing in Minerva's head.
"Yes, actually," Minerva said sheepishly. "It's been ten years..."
"I don't see why we shouldn't try sending the post by owl. If any problem arises later, I will go and give him the letter myself," Dumbledore said.
Minerva suddenly looked more sheepish.
"What is it?" Dumbledore looked at her suspiciously.
"Ah...Harry has a Godfather."
"Sirius Black." Albus said helpfully.
"Yes, I believe it is Sirius."
"You know it's Sirius."
"Aaah. Somewhere along the lines..."
"He went to get Harry just a minute ago. Said he would tell Harry all about his past and catch up with the present. For the rest of the summer, Harry will be staying with Sirius."
Albus raised his eyebrows. "Aaah." And his eyes twinkled.
Sirius checked his reflection for the thirty-ninth time in a window pane at a Muggle's house. He grinned at himself then set out for Number 4. Reaching the house, he walked up to the front step and rang the bell. The door flew open and a purple faced fat man peered out.
"I don't want to buy any of..."
"No, no," Sirius said cheerfully. "I'm here for..."
A loud thump sounded from somewhere in the house. Sirius frowned. "What was that?"
"None of your business," the fat man snarled trying to close the door on Sirius. Sirius, however, strode into the house, pushing the man aside.
"Well, I hope you didn't get anything valuable broken," Sirius replied. He peered down at a side of the wall looking over the pictures hung on it.
A fat boy was in every picture, of which one of them was of him falling into a pool, water spraying out in all directions. "Ah, on a vacation?" Sirius asked.
"I'm Vernon Dursley and you GOT THE WRONG HOUSE!" Vernon latched a hand on Sirius shoulder and began to pry him away from the wall.
"I'm Sirius Black and I've GOT THE RIGHT HOUSE!" Sirius beamed.
Vernon looked seriously pissed. "Well, I don't know you."
"I do," Sirius told him. "I'm Harry's Godfather."
Vernon suddenly turned a bright purple. "H-Harry?"
"Yes, Harry Potter!" Sirius began to venture further into the house. "Ah! A staircase! Harry's room must be upstairs..." he paused. A soft whimpering sound reached his keen ears. "What was that?"
Vernon turned an even brighter purple. "I suggest you get out right now!"
"What's going on?" A woman poked her head out of the kitchen.
"Petunia!" Vernon jumped.
Petunia glanced from her husband to the tall man behind him, whose foot was raised on top of the first step. "Who is he?"
Sirius didn't bother answering her. His ears had caught the source of the whimpering. He removed his foot and pushed past Vernon arriving in front of the cupboard under the stairs. Before he could put his ear to the door, Vernon had grabbed him with both hands by the waist.
"He's one of them! Those freaks!" Vernon shouted angrily. "Help me get h..."
Sirius brought up his arms to grasp Vernon's hands to pull them away and in the process, his elbow hit Vernon squarely on his nose. Vernon let him go immediately moaning when blood starting trickling down his nose. Sirius bent down again to check whether his ears had heard correctly when Petunia started hitting him on his back, fists flying.
"Get out of here! Get out!"
"SHUT UP!" Sirius bellowed. "I'm trying to listen!"
However, Petunia was not to be ignored. Enraged, she looked around, spotted Dudley's Smelting stick abandoned on the table and grabbed it, bringing it down on Sirius's bent back. Sirius shouted in pain and straightened, grabbing Petunia's raised arms.
"You are so lucky I don't hit women," Sirius told her.
"Let go of my wife!" Vernon got up, blood running down his chin staining his collar.
Beyond exasperation, Sirius let go of Petunia and grabbed his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The bony woman and her fat husband shot up suddenly, heads banging against the ceiling. "Silencio!" Sirius added before the couple could shout again.
Turning to the locked door, he put his wand to it. "Alohomora."
The locked door swung open and with the light from a nearby window, Sirius could make out the outlines of the walls. A tiny bed was at a corner, broken toys and boxes filled the rest of the already small cupboard. A tiny lump was on the bed buried beneath thin sheets. The lump was trembling.
Sirius frowned and neared the bed. Was it...Harry? "Harry?" he said cautiously.
No answer. Sirius knelt down in front of the bed and slowly pulled back the covers. A small boy lay curled up on the worn mattress, raven hair untidily sticking out in all directions, tear tracks on his cheeks. Bruises marred the little one, his large blue shirt had bloodstains.
"Harry." Sirius whispered. He couldn't believe what he saw. No, how could they treat him like that? "Shh...Harry it's alright. I'm going to bring you away from this place."
He reached out to lift the boy up when Harry moved suddenly, huddling in the corner of the bed. The movement obviously caused him pain and his breath came out in ragged pants.
"Harry, I'm your Godfather, Sirius," Sirius got up, trying to reach for the boy. "I won't hurt you. Harry, I'll take you away from here."
Harry didn't answer. Tears continued to drop from his small face.
Harry flinched visibly while Sirius jumped up taking the two steps needed to get out of the cupboard.
Another fatso was standing below the floating Muggles, mouth wide open, shirt stained with potato chips' grease. His parents waved their hands around desperately trying to upright themselves. The boy turned around and saw Sirius. His mouth opened then shut. No sound came out.
"I'll call the police!" He dived for the phone.
"Accio phone!" Sirius snapped. The phone ripped itself from the cord and sped into Sirius outstretched hand. "You hurt my Godson." he said in a cold voice to the couple in the air. He waved his wand and they came crashing to the floor.
"He is a good-for-nothing, lazy, arrogant..."
"Densaugeo!" Sirius shouted.
While all the Muggles desperately grabbed their mouths, growing teeth forcing open their mouths, Sirius went back into the cupboard.
"Harry, I'm going to take you away, alright?" He reached out for the boy, trying to ignore the way he tried to escape his Godfather's arms and cradled the small boy to his chest.
Without a single feeling of regret, he disapparated leaving the Muggles to deal with their still growing teeth.
Please review!! So that I can know whether I should share this or just write it for my personal pleasure and keep it out of ff.net. g