A New Life

Summary: Sirius's death hurt Harry more than everyone knew. This, coupled with his nightmarish life at the Dursley's, sends Harry over the edge; he snaps and runs straight into American hunters who...are his family? SLASH (Harry/?).

Authors Note: Yes, yes, so cliché. I know. I could not help myself. This is my first crossover and long fanfiction. If you look at my cringy-ass profile you can tell I'm new to the writing part of this and my older stories were written by me at like 12 years old. Sorry. I have a lot of work ahead of me now.

Toodles~


Harry lay on his bed, unblinking. If one were to look closer, they would see his red-rimmed eyes and the beginnings of a dark bruise that stained his otherwise porcelain face, marring his boyish features.

Less than two weeks ago Harry had been happy. He had two amazing friends and a Godfather. He had lost it all in one fell swoop.

Harry turned on his side gingerly. His nightmares plagued every sleeping moment; his uncle every waking moment- unfortunately for the entirety of the Dursley household.

Uncle Vernon lost his job early in the summer- straight after Harry returned, unwillingly, to the tender-loving-care of his relatives. Of course, this had been blamed on the Freak who had been, rightfully, put in his place by his cousin and Uncle while his Aunt lovingly prepared dinner for her two boys. To add insult to injury, Harry had still been expected to finish his chore list which grew increasingly worse each passing day.
He didn't even get a break at night when he was supposed to be resting. Flashes of memories from the department of mysteries tormented him every time he closed his eyes. When he finally succumbed to his utter exhaustion, and injuries, things weren't much better.

Every night without fail he would awaken at least once, screaming out for Sirius. This had the unfortunate outcome of waking the Dursleys who were less than impressed at the Freak thus earning him more punishments bestowed by the whale known as his uncle.

Tonight was one of the few nights where his uncle had decided to give him a light punishment, or simply didn't have the energy to inflict pain.

Harry was sick of it all. He wanted out. Out of the horrifying war. Out of his life as the live-in servant and punch bag of his family.

Downstairs, Harry heard his Uncle screaming at the cricket on TV. His cousin was out at a friend's house (Read: Hanging out on the street corner with his mates while smoking a joint.) It would be funny when his aunt, who believed her precious Dudders could do no wrong, found out about her son's deviance. No doubt it would be quickly swept under the rug and blamed on him again.

His uncle called for another beer and Petunia hastily walked to retrieve the alcohol to avoid the potential ire of her husband.
Vernon was a mean drunk and it was unfortunate that that's all he ever seemed to be lately. He had been unable to get a job as most companies were looking for young applicants. Again, Harry had been blamed.

His lonely life at the Dursleys was infinitely worse without his only companion, Hedwig. She had been left at Hogwarts with the other owls so she could happily hunt when she liked. Usually, Ron or Hermione would take her but two-thirds of the golden trio had dulled and turned away. Or maybe it was one-third. Harry couldn't really blame the couple as they had gotten hurt while trying to help him against the empty threat of Sirius's torture. After their botched rescue, both Ron and Hermione took special pains to avoid him. Ron was suspiciously absent from the dorm when Harry was awake and cleared off sometime early morning to prevent being interrogated by the enraged brunet who had just lost his last family member. The cowardly red-head had even tempted Hermione, who had escaped unscathed, over to his side. But that was okay, better now than later when he was in serious trouble.
Another roar from downstairs jolted the petite teen from his sullen thoughts causing him to wince in pain as his body physically jolted sending vibrations down his chest to his sore ribs.

Breathing through the pain, he snapped. He'd had enough.
It was slow going but the teenager rolled to the edge of his bed and attempted to stand. It took several attempts to just stand up. Overcoming the dizziness, most likely from malnutrition, blood loss and exhaustion, he took small steps over to the loose floorboard where his wand, invisibility cloak, wand and album laid. Along with his most prized possessions, Harry had managed to slip a couple galleons into his room before his school stuff was locked away in his cupboard under the stairs just in case he needed to get away. It was around 8 pm. He wouldn't have long to wait now. His plan: to escape. Most likely take the knight bus to Gringotts then find somewhere, preferably outside of Britain. He couldn't stand the pressures and heartbreaking sense of loss that hung around like muggy air after a thunderstorm.
Hobbling back over to his bed, Harry decided once more to look through his photo album knowing that it was likely he would have to leave it behind when he made his escape. It was far too large for his pockets and would hold him back in the long run.
Intent on finding one image to take, Harry perched on the end of his bed, away from the creaking springs that dug into his soft flesh.
He knew the album almost of by heart by now. There were a few people whom he still didn't know but it was mostly pictures of his smiling parents. Blissfully gazing into each other's eyes.
The end of the album held the most intriguing photo of all. Another young couple. One brunet, one blonde. The blond, the female, was holding Baby Harry while the husband held a much older looking toddler. He must have been about three years old while Harry, if the back of the picture was dated properly, was about 5 months old. The other child was grinning at the camera, green eyes gleaming delightedly. More information told him that the photo had been taken in a place called Lawrence, Kansas. Most likely in the USA then, Harry mused to himself.
Hagrid hadn't known this couple at all so they were unlikely to have gone to Hogwarts and, as the picture didn't move, Harry assumed they were muggles.
He longed to know more but no one he asked knew a thing about the two. The photo had been found and retrieved from the ruins of Godric's Hollow.
Of all the photos he had, this one stuck out the most. Carefully, Harry removed it from the protective pocket and slipped it into the pocket of his over large jeans.

At precisely 10 o'clock, the TV downstairs turned off and his uncle's heavy footsteps resounded through the whole house as he lumbered up the stairs. Quickly, Harry hid his items just under his bed for easy access in case his uncle decided to dole out one last minute punishment however, he needn't have bothered. The footsteps thumped outside of his room but continued without a pause to the bathroom, his aunts' tinier steps barely heard behind.
Obviously, a good result on the cricket then. Harry knew what followed this and so did Dudley hence his disappearance.
The toilet flushed and Vernon, faster than before, walked to the master bedroom. Petunia close behind. The door closed with a bang and the noises started.
Happy, but slightly disgusted, that the two were now preoccupied, Harry grabbed his cloak, wand and money and stealthily walked over to the door, inching it open cautiously. The dull throbbing in his arm intensified and it took all of Harrys' being not to cry out or whimper. There was a pause in the action in the master bedroom and Harry prayed that he hadn't been heard. His prayers were granted after a tense 40 seconds when the action resumed and so did his attempts to leave. He didn't bother trying to close his door, it was his uncle's fault for forgetting to lock him in.
The stairs were the hardest part due to their creakiness caused by the immense weight it was forced to deal with daily. Skipping the creakiest steps, Harry finally made it downstairs where he knew it was unlikely his aunt and uncle would hear him opening the front door yet he was still careful.

A tense 5 minutes later, Harry was free! He had decided to catch the bus from the nearby park, a few streets away, rather than outside of number 4 Privet Drive.
He raised his wand and prepared for the clatter of the bus that would soon appear. Less than a second later it arrived and Harry, "Neville", had successfully bought a ticket to the Leaky cauldron for a mere 9 sickles.
The next ten minutes were the longest and most painful of the summer and his injuries were jostled around in the eccentric bus.
He was grateful when the journey ended and gladly stepped off the bus, once more on his guard. The ministry had known in Third year when Harry ran away, would they know now?
Obviously, they didn't care anymore. He walked through the old pub with his head down to prevent being recognised by any fans.
Easily letting himself into the alley, the teen relaxed and headed for the goblin-run bank.

About four hours later, Harry stumbled out of the bank overwhelmed. Upon entering the bank, he had been accosted by Griphook and several other goblins who harried him to a private room.
"W- What?" He barely had time to stutter out before a large ledger was placed in front of him as he was pushed into a comfy armchair.
"Lord Potter," The Goblin started, ignoring his stammering, "We have been waiting for you."
It was a simple statement but it sent chills down his spine.
The Goblin carried on, uncaring. "We have sent you many letters starting from your eighth birthday."
Harry cast a look of disbelief at the goblin. All of this over what? A misdirected letter?
He went to explain how he had never received a single letter from the bank when he was, again, ignored and spoken over.
"We realised after your return to the wizarding world that you had no intention of ever responding to us. Unfortunately, it's more important now than ever that you get this information."
The creature stopped for a breath and this is where harry cut in, angrily. "I never received a single letter and what could possibly be so important! I only learnt of this world at eleven and the only letters I have received have either been from Hogwarts or from my friends." He panted from exertion and winced as his ribs made themselves known once more.

For a moment, he could have sworn that he saw a flicker of concern on the creatures' gnarled face before it passed and indifference settled on his face.

"It matters not. You're here now so we will sort it out. First, your lordship must be discussed. As of the death of Sirius Black, you have inherited the Black Lordship in addition to the Potter, Gaunt and Flamel Lordships you already had. Now –. "

Harry cut the goblin off with a small noise of protest.

"What Lordships?" Harry had never heard of such a thing and didn't even recognise all the names he had been told belonged to him.

"There must be some mistake. Anyway, Sirius would have told me."

The goblin looked disapproving down at the short wizard who was, indeed, shorter than most of the goblins at the bank.
"Well, sir. If you let me continue, I could have explained it to you. It is obvious that you have been sheltered from this by your magical guardian and while this is frowned upon it was probably for the better. Albus Dumbledore does know what he is doing after all."
At this, several of the other goblins in the office looked disapproving at Griphook. They must not see eye-to-eye then. Harry mused to himself.
He was honestly unsure about how he felt about Dumbledore. The esteemed headmaster seemed to be kind and grandfatherly towards him but had a scary side that Harry himself had seen just the once in the Department of Mysteries.
To make matters worse, Harry was unsure whether he trusted this powerful entity. He just seemed far too manipulative and naïve- he hadn't believed Harry when he had claimed that the Dursleys didn't treat him right. Unwilling to believe that family could hurt one another, he had easily sent Harry back to his hellish life.
Even at Hogwarts Harry hadn't felt safe. For one of the safest places in the world, Hogwarts surely was a death trap. It felt almost planned hence why Harry considered the possibility that maybe Dumbledore had planned it all. The easy acceptance from the goblin of Dumbledore's questionable behaviour rubbed Harry the wrong way. There was no way he could fully trust the headmaster or anyone who so easily followed him.

Looking around at the goblins who seemed to disapprove of Griphook, he made the decision.
"I don't really trust Albus Dumbledore." He stated with as much disdain as he could possibly muster for one sentence.

An awkward air permeated the atmosphere for one long minute before Griphook got up, looked around him and left finding no support. He was followed by two burly, angry goblins who, Harry only just noticed, were both armed with a large, obsidian dagger and shield. He didn't envy Griphook one bit.
A new goblin walked forward and sat at the desk that had been occupied by Griphook.

"We're glad. To be perfectly honest Albus isn't exactly a friend of the goblin nation. My name is Bloodclaw. Now then, to business!"

The next hour consisted of Harry going through his estates and inherited lordships. He really was loaded.

What came next was just as overwhelming.

Apparently, Harry hadn't inherited the Potter vault from his father. No, he had inherited it from his step-father.

James Potter had been rendered infertile when he was injured by a dark curse. This had almost ruined his parents' marriage as his mother had been insistent on having a child.

The two had turned to an American clinic in hopes of some new surgery being able to help Lily conceive. They hadn't been lucky until they ran into a couple with a child who, at the time had been about one-and-a-half years old. Lily had been enamoured by the child with green eyes and decided that she wanted them to carry her child. All it took were a few charms and the couple had gotten pregnant. Nine months later Lily had returned to the couple who, due to compulsion charms, didn't realise the child was theirs. He honestly felt so bad for the couple. According to Bloodclaw, their names had been Mary and John Winchester. Mary was deceased. Having never known his mother, he had got his hopes up at getting to know her, his true mother. Unfortunately, that had been stolen from him before he could even fantasise about it. Luckily, he had at least one sibling and a father alive.

Harry had been that child. Stolen right from underneath his true parents by a desperate woman.

It was unfathomable- how had he not known? Surely Sirius or Remus would've known something.

All Harry knew now was that he was going away. To America.


Aaaaaaannnnd done! I am in the middle of the second chapter. If this gets favourable reviews then I shall continue it. :) That being said, please give me constructive feedback if possible. I know I'm not the best at this yet but I want to improve so please help me with that! 3