Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any associated works. Anything that you recognize from a previously published work, I do not own. This disclaimer is for all chapters.

Author’s Note: Please ask before using any original ideas.

Awakening

Chapter One: Letters

The thin figure on the bed tossed restlessly as he slept. He was covered in a cold sweat and most of his covers had been kicked off. Unintelligible mumblings were heard from the turbulent figure. Suddenly the boy sat bolt upright. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were wide.

Harry absentmindedly ran a soothing hand over his burning scar. The fact that it was hurting didn’t worry him. The fact that he yet again had gotten barely three hours of sleep did. Sighing, Harry swung his legs over his bed and buried his face in his hands. For the millionth time in the past three weeks Harry felt tears prickle the backs of his eyes. Blinking them away furiously, he started to get angry with himself. For two weeks Harry had done nothing but contemplate his stupidity. He had gotten Sirius killed and he had gotten Cedric killed. How many people were going to die just because they believed in him? How many unnecessary deaths for a complete phony? Harry knew he wasn’t special. He didn’t know or understand why it was him in the prophecy. If Dumbledore couldn’t defeat Voldemort what chance did he Harry, a powerless boy, have?

The only things he was good at were Quidditch and getting people killed. Harry amused himself for a moment with the thought of challenging Voldemort to a quidditch match. If Harry won then Voldemort would have to give up his evil ways. A sharp, humourless laugh escaped Harry’s lips.

But now Harry’s grief had turned to anger. No, not anger, fury. Instead of clouding his judgment and blinding his sense of reason however, the strong emotions raging within the sixteen-year-old boy only served to heighten his determination. His head was cool and clear and his purpose distinct. Although he would most likely die trying, Harry was going to face Voldemort and he was going try and kill him. In Harry’s opinion try was the operative word. All he could hope for was that the luck that had been bestowed upon him on his previous encounters would be with him on that fateful day.

A week ago Harry had owled Dumbledore asking him for NEWT level Defence Against the Dark Arts textbooks. His headmaster had risen magnificently to the occasion and had sent back several books. Harry had been surprised to find that the older man had also sent several books out of his own personal collection. They contained an assortment of spells both defensive and offensive that were both very ancient and relatively unknown, or they were exceptionally dangerous and required a lot of power.

Harry had, as a result, spent the last week in the park reading his new books. Through the grief that still shadowed his days, he was able to summon up a considerable amount of excitement at the thought of returning to school and trying out some of the spells.

On one such day Harry was immersed in a book from Dumbledore’s private collection called Rare and Unknown Defence against the Dark Arts. It was a massive and ancient volume with thin, yellowed pages and the musty smell of age. So acute was Harry’s concentration that he didn’t notice he was no longer alone in the park.

“Um, excuse me?” A small voice broke through Harry’s concentration. He looked around wildly for a second before his eyes settled on a young scrawny boy of about 11. The boy looked oddly familiar, then realization dawned heavily on Harry. The boy looked like Sirius but with Lily’s eyes. Harry gaped at the boy in astonishment then, realizing he was staring, cleared his throat and asked

“Can I help you?”

The young boy looked at the ground and shuffled his feet uncertainly.

“Um, I was wondering...maybe, um...I saw...I mean, I thought that, um...maybe – are you a wizard?”

To say that Harry was astounded is putting it mildly. Could this child be from a magical family? No, Harry thought, then he would’ve asked for my autograph. He must be from a muggle family. Then how does he know about wizards? Does he go to Hogwarts? He looks too young to be going into second year, and the first years’ haven’t received their letters’ yet. After a long pause, due mainly to his suddenly dry mouth, Harry found his voice.

“Yes, I am. How did you know?” The boy smiled,

“I got a letter from that school, Hogwarts, yesterday. Do you go there?”

“Yeah, I do. What’s your name kid?”

“Mark Evans.” Harry’s heart suddenly stopped beating. Evans was his mother’s maiden name. Surely a boy with Lily’s eyes and surname was not in Privet Drive by coincidence? Moving over to make space on the bench for Mark, Harry patted the seat beside him, indicating the younger boy should sit down. Harry wanted to know more about this Evans kid.

“I’m Harry Potter. I live with the Dursleys’” Mark nodded

“Yes, I know your cousin. Dudley I think his name is. He’s a fat git.” Mark grinned impishly at Harry who grinned back.

“That’s a really big book. Is it for school? Do we all have to read books like that?” The younger boy’s eyes widened at the thought causing Harry to laugh.

“No it’s not for school...” Harry broke of as Mark gasped and his eye’s widened.

“I just remembered!” Evans exclaimed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment.

“This came with my letter. It’s for you.” He handed Harry the parchment. Harry frowned and he surveyed the younger boy with penetrating emerald eyes before taking letter and breaking the magical seal with his wand. As Harry read the letter he paled noticeably, his eyes widened and his hands started to shake slightly.

Dear Harry,

I was hoping to do this in person however business for the Order has prevented it. Please, as you read this letter, try to remain calm. This information was not told to you before simply because I did not know about this until a few days ago. The person whom this concerns chose not to enlighten us for reasons I think you will be able to guess.

Harry, there is no simple or easy way to say this. Let me start at the beginning. Your mother had two sisters, not one. Her second, Violet, was younger than Lily, while Petunia was older. Might I add that Lily got on considerably better with her younger sister who had a far more tolerant attitude towards magic than her other muggle sibling?

Now you may be wondering if Violet had actually liked the magical world, why you were not sent to stay with her. It would have made your life a lot happier and yet still offer you the same protection you are currently under. Well, the answer to that is simply that Violet disappeared the same night that Sirius was captured.

There is something Sirius never told us Harry, something important. He was in love. He met Violet almost as soon as he finished school, when she went to meet Lily after their last train ride from Hogwarts. They never married and when Sirius was wrongfully imprisoned, Violet went into hiding to deal with her grief.

Four years later, Violet was visiting Sirius in Azkaban when all the guards were called away on urgent business. From what I know, Sirius and Violet had taken the opportunity to sneak away for a while. Sirius didn’t try to escape then because they had both decided it would be wiser if he stayed in Azkaban. Sirius didn’t want Violet to spend her life running from the Ministry and Violet didn’t want Sirius to spend his as a fugitive.

Harry, the result of their brief interlude is Mark Evans. He is Sirius’ son. He is your cousin.

I realize this is a shock and at a very inopportune time. I will ask you to try and put aside your grief to help this boy who is remarkably like yourself. Violet died giving birth to him and he’s grown up in a muggle orphanage, being passed from one foster home to another. I understand if this is hard for you to do, but please try.

On a happier note, I would like to congratulate you Harry. You have been chosen as Gryffindor’s new quidditch captain. I have also arranged for you to spend the rest of the summer with the Weasley’s. Someone will be there to pick you up on Wednesday.

Your Friend,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Harry stared at the letter. Inside his emotions were raging. Could this possibly be true? He had family outside of the Dursleys’? Sirius had a son? Hope at finally having a blood relative who might accept him for who he is and anger at his godfather for having kept him in the dark all these years fought a passionate battle inside Harry and his eye’s flashed with turbulent emotions.

Suddenly the parchment Harry was holding burst into flame. Mark yelped and leaped backwards. Harry dropped the parchment, which immediately fell to the ground and set the grass alight. Before Harry could do anything, a figure came hurrying out of the bushes and put the fire out with a quick spell.

Mark stared at the person in awe. Admiration was clearly written on his young face. Harry, on the other hand was glaring.

“Professor Lupin! Don’t tell me you can’t talk and guard at the same time!”

Remus Lupin looked sheepish.

“Sorry Harry. It’s just, well you had company...” Harry turned to Mark,

“Mark, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Remus Lupin. Professor, this is Mark Evans. He’s going to start at Hogwarts this year.”

“Evans?” Lupin’s sharp eyes darted from Mark to Harry. He had noticed Marks uncanny resemblance to Sirius and Lily. Harry sighed.

“Professor, Mark is Sirius’ son.” Lupin paled and Mark glanced quickly at Harry.

“You know my Dad?” he asked. Harry sat back down on the bench and buried his face in his hands. Lupin sat down next to him.

“Harry? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Harry looked at Mark with sad eyes, “I knew your Dad, he was my godfather. Your mum and my mum were sisters. Listen Mark. I know you never knew your parents. I never knew mine either. Your mum I never met, but your dad...I can honestly say he was a good man. He was an honourable man who had been imprisoned for a crime he never committed. He died last month and his name was never cleared.”

“Thank you,” Mark whispered, “I’d always thought...” Harry smiled at the younger boy.

“Well, you boys had better get home. Harry, I understand you’re going to the Weasley’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” The three of them continued talking. Remus Lupin escorted them both to their houses before apparating back to Grimmauld Place.

---

“Ginny dear, do watch what you’re doing!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she used her wand to levitate a pot off the stove before its contents could burn.

“Oops! Sorry Mum!” Ginny shrugged and offered her mother a self- depreciating grin.

“It’s okay dear. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do I want to talk about what?” The youngest Weasley asked, a guarded look dropping over her features. Her mother was way too observant for her own good.

“What’s bothering you, of course. And don’t tell me it’s nothing. I’m your mother remember?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ron asked as he entered the kitchen with Hermione following, “She’s worried about Harry.”

“We all are,” Hermione interjected quickly, seeing the daggers Ginny was shooting her oblivious brother.

“I mean, you all remember what he was like after the Triwizard. I can’t imagine what he must be going through.”

“Those awful muggles won’t be helping either,” Ginny said bitterly, “They probably won’t even notice anything’s wrong.”

“I don’t know how that woman could be Lily’s sister, “Mrs. Weasley said darkly, “They’re such opposites!”

“I just wish we could be there,” Ron said, “I mean. If it were one of us, Harry wouldn’t leave our side!”

“I know Ron,” Hermione patted his arm gently, “But you’re going to fetch him tomorrow, then we’ll make sure he doesn’t spend a single second alone.” Just then Hedwig swooped into the kitchen and landed on Ron’s shoulder.

“Hey girl,” he said as he placed her on the table and untied the piece of parchment attached to her leg,

“I wonder what Harry could be writing about,” Ron speculated out loud. A puzzled frown creased his forehead as he read the letter.

“What’s it about?” Hermione asked. Ron handed it to her and Ginny looked over Hermione’s shoulder to read the note as well.

Ron,

Hurry up tomorrow will you mate? I have some serious NEWS!

Harry.

“Do you think he’s holding out on us on purpose as payback for last year?” Ron asked.

“Don’t be silly, Ron. Of course he isn’t.” Hermione snorted,

“Think about it, when has Harry deliberately excluded us from anything important?”

“You have a point...” Ron said grudgingly. Not wanting to admit that Hermione was right yet again.

“Of course I do,” Hermione said, “I wonder what it could be though? I hope it’s not bad. Harry’s had enough bad news two last the whole group of us two lifetimes!”

Ginny was quiet and her face was expressionless. However, inside her heart bled for the boy who had suffered so unfairly. Anger erupted inside her as she thought about Harry’s relatives. If she ever set eyes on the loathsome bastards all the Restriction of Underage Witchcraft decree’s in world wouldn’t be able to stop her from cursing them into infinity.

---

Harry paced his room impatiently. He was filled with a restless energy that he knew would only be alleviated with flying. That was out of the question however as he would definitely be spotted.

Today was the first time in three years he had lost control and done accidental magic. Although, now that he thought about it, it had felt a little...different. More like the magic was subconsciously done rather than accidentally. Sighing Harry flung himself onto his bed and stared moodily up at his ceiling.

The only indication of his strong feelings was Harry’s eyes. Fury flashed in the emerald green depths but there was also anguish and compassion. All these conflicting sentiments were for the same person, his godfather. Harry’s heart bled for the father and son who had never met. He didn’t think Sirius even knew about Mark. Yet amidst his empathy, Harry was still angry at his godfather for not telling him about Violet. Heck, he was angry with every single person who had known about her, for not telling him.

A soft tapping sound interrupted Harry’s thoughts. Turning to the window, Harry recognised the large, tawny owl as Dumbledore’s. With some trepidation he opened the window to let the owl in, hoping all the while that it was not more bad news. Harry’s hopes were confirmed; the contents of the letter caused him to dance around the room in glee.

Harry,

I would like to apologise for not having informed you of Violets existence sooner. Once again, I have no excuses. Please believe me when I say that I did not know about Mark until two days ago when a letter Violet had written reached me. The letter was intended to be read only after Sirius’s death. From its contents I surmise that nobody, except Violet, knew that Sirius was Mark’s father.

On a happier note, I have some good news. After Voldemorts return, I was hoping to exempt you from the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry. Due mainly to the Ministry’s disobliging attitude, this was not possible. I am pleased to inform you, however, that the situation has changed. Minister Fudge agrees that you should be able to protect yourself at all time without having to worry about being expelled from Hogwarts.

I am sure this information will make your summer extremely enjoyable,

Albus Dumbledore.

As Harry flopped down onto his bed, a rare smile curved its way along his face. He was going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer.

---

“Boy!” Uncle Vernon barked as Harry came into the living room, “Get my tea! And comb your...” he broke of in astonishment as he looked up from his paper and found a cup of tea floating in front of him. Vernon Dursley’s face paled dramatically then turned its trademark puce. Harry grinned at his Uncles reaction. The sound of breaking china announced Petunia Dursley’s entrance into the room. She had dropped the plate of toast she was carrying.

“Why don’t you let me clear that up, Aunt Petunia?” Harry said smiling, warmly. He pointed the wand at the mess and said,

“Reparo!” in the next instant the plate was as good as new and the toast rested neatly on top of it.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Harry levitated the plate onto the coffee table.

“How dare you bring your unnaturalness into this house?” Vernon Dursley thundered, “After all we’ve done for you. And this is the thanks we get! Well, you can take your ungrateful ass...”

Suddenly the fireplace burst into green flame. Ron Weasley’s tall form unfolded itself just in time to see Harry cast a silencing charm on his uncle.

“Harry?” Ron gasped, “What are you doing? I know the muggles are horrible but you’re gonna get expelled over this!” To his surprise, his best friend just grinned.

“Ron! It’s good to see you! Hang on while I get my trunk.” A while later a very confused Ron was on his way back home with Hedwig’s cage. Harry had pushed his trunk into the fire and had one leg in when he suddenly turned back to his relatives.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Finite Incantatum!” Vernon Dursley gasped as his voice came rushing back.

“Bye Aunt Petunia! Bye Uncle Vernon! See you next summer!”

---

Author’s Note: Yes, I realize the letter explaining Mark’s existence is far- fetched so please no flames on the topic! Constructive criticism is always welcome.