Disclaimer: As always I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter they stay the sole creations of Eric kripke and J K Rowling. Nor do I own the Lyrics just really enjoy the singer.

A/N: So this was an original story but after re-reading and a review pointed out it did seem like one huge ramble instead of a set story so now I am refreshing it and hopefully it will be better! Review and tell me what you think!

Chapter 1 - solace.

Camera bulbs flashed in his face. Each time he blinked causing his eyes to spread the tears that had long since died away. He walked numb to the world only feeling the emptiness inside. He looked over at the crowd of reporters. To him they looked like a pack of vicious vultures each eager to tear a piece of juicy flesh from his carcass. He became aware of a hand on his shoulder. He followed the long silver clothe to its owner. Dumbledore. He looked back a head resuming his dead pan staring ahead as he slowly sunk away from the world.


Term was over and students flooded he Hogsmede station. All around him people made idle chat and talk of the summer and plans with their families. Family. That word sneered at him, mocked him with all it's heart.

His friends joined him on the dusty path. He hadn't faced them since the ministry. He was terrified that they would leave him. But he should have known they wouldn't. They smiled doing their best to stay positive. Feeling obligated he forced a smile for them. This seemed to soothe climbed aboard the train and snagged the first empty compartment.

His friends tried to engage him a they sat on the train but he shrugged them off choosing to quietly stare out o the window at the darkening sky. Hagrid was right. There is a storm coming. And they needed to be ready when it blows.

But, He wasn't ready. How was learning tickling charms going to help kill the greatest dark wizard of all time? It wasn't. They weren't playing or talking or fooling around they were training. To kill him. To destroy this world. And what was he doing? Sat in a classroom with his fair weather friend fighting with a rubber haddock! Hermione was right. They needed to focus.

They were at Kings-cross station already. He stood with his trunk on the platform. The Dursleys were late. Again. Chewing he inside of his cheek he made a snap decision,His favorite kind!, he wheeled his trunk out of the station and,upon checking his money pouch and releasing Hedwig , summoned the knight bus. With a bang they sped off towards his destination.


Harry walked into Gringotts and approached the nearest empty desk. "Hello I wish to see my vault" He said with as much forced politeness as he could muster.

"Do you have your key?" The Goblin asked not looking up from his scales. Digging through his pocket he found the small golden key. Sliding i across the counter he waited until the goblin looked up and his small beady eyes widened slightly as he took in the key.

"One moment Mr Potter" He tottered off and spoke to another Goblin in the corner of the building. The two goblins returned and bowed to him.

"Come this way Mr Potter. Sharp-tooth must speak with you" He said. Harry nodded and noticed his trunk had vanished. He set of Walking with the two goblins into a small office.

"Hello Mister Potter please take a seat we have much to discuss" The goblin said motioning to a regal looking chair in front of his mahogany desk.


He was stood in front of Grimauld place. He tried to make sense of what just happened. He was emancipated. Due to the Tri-wizard tournament. He was now head of his house and head of the black house , thank you Sirius, and he owned Grimauld place. He idly twirled the two family rings in his black and Potter vaults were a trove of gold and after much discussion with the goblin he managed to acquire a muggle bank card that would work wherever he wished.

Sighing and running his hands through his head he walked into Grimauld place. Shutting the door the abrupt silence was startling. It was dusty and unkempt. Then an idea struck him.

"KREACHER!" He yelled. With a crack the aged elf appeared.

"Master called" He croaked out.

"I am now head of this household and therefore you WILL listen to me and only me. You WILL NOT reveal any information to any one else including ex-members of this family. IS this understood" He said glaring at the house-elf.

"Yes master of course master"

"Good. Now go clean I wish to inhabit a livable space. You may keep one item from each room but that is it" He said. Kreacher bowed and vanished to clean.

Sighing yet again Harry walked off to the library and grabbed the nearest book and settled down to read the night away.


Sunlight began to drift in through a crack in the curtains in the library window. Rubbing his eyes he put the book down ( A particularly good book on obscure charms). Standing up he marveled at how quickly the stale musty smell had vanished from the air. He walked across the landing and stood outside a door labelled : SIRIUS BLACK.

He stood in front of it awkwardly. A part of him felt like crying. The memories still to fresh. Another part of him ached with curiosity. He chuckled slightly at the sight of everything. Sirius had gone out of his way to show his parents his disagreement of their pure-blood ways. He noticed his trunk and Hedwig's cage was placed at the end of the bed. Maybe Kreacher had a heart after all underneath all the bitterness. Smiling softly he left and headed to the study.

He pushed open the door and took in the sight. It was untidy but when compared to the rest of the house it was the tidiest sat in Sirius's study, on his chair. Buckbeak had long since gone. Hagrid no doubt he thought smiling sadly as he thought of his friend. He leant back in his chair as he tried to imagine Sirius locked up all day with only a felon hippogriff for company.

He looked at Sirius's desk. It was old and fairly beaten but for him it captured Sirius perfectly. Tired,beaten but still standing strong. He pulled open the top draw to find in full of letters and pieces of parchments. He sighed, well as owner of the house he had a right to look through these. He delved into the treasure trove of paper. Most were ministry letters addressed to Sirius's parents. But one roll of parchment stood out to him. He recognized the handwriting. It was from Lilly. His mother. He carefully unfolded it and read it.

Dearest Padfoot,

How are you doing? I guess you could say life has for us has been changed. Prongs never shuts up. Even as I write this he's flicking through some baby quidditch clothing magazine. I swear the baby will not learn to fly until at least 16!

Harry smiled at the letter before reading on.

Even in these dark times I find myself growing hopeful for the future. As if everything we fight for can...Will come true. Speaking of the baby if it is a boy he is to named Harry after...John's grandfather, I tried to discuss girl names but well you know Prongs won't even discuss the possibility of a girl!

He can be quite stubborn sometimes I find myself wondering if a mule would have been easier to convince. But speaking of John I need you Padfoot to contact him and let him know how we are doing. He and his wife Mary are still dear to us despite was Prongs says. I would do it myself but Prongs absolutely refuse to entertain the idea of contacting him again after last time. I mean he has a right to know. He is the baby's

He dropped the letter and dove back into the draw leaving no paper unturned as he searched desperately for the rest of the parchment until finally,defeated, he slumped back in the chair. But now he knew what to do. He refused to let this go. Who ever his mother had said is a link to her and possibly a link to family. He would find them if it killed him. Sighing he left the room in search of Kreacher and hopefully a hot meal before his quest began.