The Life of Hadrian Black

Prologue- Suspicion

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Minerva McGonagall sighed, worry emanating from her entire being. She did not think this was a good idea.

Not at all.

She'd been watching those muggles all damn day, and they're the worst she's come across since the muggle World War Two! At first, Minerva thought that Albus had a point when he said that growing up in a muggle household, without the title of The Boy Who Lived floating above his head, would be good for Harry. But now, after having followed Vernon Dursley to work, and watching Petunia Dursley brag to her neighbours, she truly believed that the poor boy would gain more moral on the streets than in that house!

However, Albus was adamant that little Harry would find a happy family here. Of course, it wasn't really his decision to make, anyway. But Sirius Black had run off, face filled with fury and sadness, after Peter Pettigrew, and laws state that werewolves are not fit for guardianship, which rules Remus Lupin out of the picture. James and Lily Potter were dead, and Alice and Frank Longbottom had been admitted to St. Mungo's after long exposure to the Cruciatise Curse, rendering them completely insane.

There was no one else that could be trusted with Harry, and Albus seemed to think that Sirius wouldn't be coming back for the boy any time soon. That, in itself, was unusual to Minerva because it was common knowledge that the unofficial Black Lord adored his godson more than anything else in the world, his long-time lover coming in a close second. But then, what could she do about it? Albus was an international idol for the Wizarding World, how could she go up against that? Besides, despite all his flaws, the elder was still a good friend and mentor of hers.

Minerva sighed again.

This was still a very bad idea. Probably one of the man's worst. Albus had taken it upon himself to place Harry, sound asleep, on the doorstep of Number 4, Private Drive, Surrey with nothing but a letter explaining the circumstances, and the little baby blanket that he was bundled up in.

Albus stood up straight before moving to walk away. "Come, Minerva. It is time we went back."

The woman in turn frowned with displeasure. "You're just going to leave him there? Shouldn't we wait until the Dursley's take him inside, or, at least, knock so that we know he'll be taken care of?"

Albus smiled reassuringly, grandfatherly demeanour coming into play. "Now, now, Minerva. Harry will be fine."

"I think, maybe, he'd be better off living in the magical community."

The old wizard shakes his head firmly. "Where everyone knows his name? Where they worship him? No, it's better he grow up away from all of that."

Minerva sighed for the third time. She knew a lost cause when she saw one. Despite the welcoming, grandfatherly demeanour the man presents, Albus was still a stubborn little shit with too much influence over the world. However, she'd keep a close eye on her friend because cheerful expressions and his questionable actions with Harry were all rather suspicious.

She silently sent a protection spell towards the sleeping one year old before linking arms with Albus, and disappearing with a pop. It was the best she could do for now.

The next morning, Petunia Dursley opened her front door to collect the milk bottles, only to shriek in horror at what exactly lay bundled on her doorstep.