Godfather and Godson

Chapter 1: Arrival

A/N: There is an important change in this story. The students are accepted to Hogwarts when they are 14 years old and graduate when they are 21, so all main characters are at least 18 years(4th year) old when the story commences.

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Waking up with a sudden start, Harry glanced around the dark room and let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was in his bedroom at the Dursley'. Placing his right hand on his scar the young wizard immediately withdrew it as he felt a stinging sensation coming from the blasted scar.

Laying back on his pillow soaked with sweat, flashes of the nightmare he experienced with Peter the sniveling, rat-tailed traitor and Voldemort killing that old man passed through his mind. He let out a deep sigh and a silent prayer to the poor old man who died at the hands of his parents' killers, Harry got up from his bed as he really didn't see himself going back to sleep anytime soon.

He looked around his bedroom. It was really an unusual assortment of goods as at the foot of his bed laid an opened trunk with a cauldron brimming with a potion he cooked up, a sparkling new broomstick of the latest model, black robes enchanted with cooling and cleaning charms, and a stack of spell books tied up neatly. On his desk were parchments stained with ink blotches and incomplete assignments given over for the summer vacation.

In another corner near the window was an empty cage which his snowy owl, Hedwig, usually perched. Just as the thought of Hedwig passed through his mind, a slight tapping echoed from his window and into the room.

Striding up to the window, Harry swung it open and came face to face with his good old friend perched on the window sill.

"How was the hunt, girl?" Harry asked as he scratched behind Hedwig's ear just where she liked it. Hedwig hooted in reply as she flew into the room and rested on her perch.

"Yeah, you must have been good," Harry said as he chuckled to himself but then his thoughts turned back to the nightmare he just had.

He needed to tell someone about the nightmare he experienced, but who should he tell it to? Immediately his mind flickered to his two best friends; Hermione and Ron. Though just as quickly as it passed through his mind he waved it off.

He could already imagine their reaction, Hermione, as much as she is intelligent, she isn't all-knowing. The first response she would give him would be to consult a book and he doubted that any book would be covering his scar. The next best thing she would recommend would be to talk to an authority figure and Harry also highly doubted that option. Having any sort of connection to Voldemorts would never be a good thing!

Ron, on the other hand, as much as he enjoys the company of his friend when he isn't being jealous or thick skulled, he knows that he isn't really the brightest tool in the shed. Their talk about quidditch, girls, or wizarding stuff, in general, is fun, but that is all that he offers.

As Harry's options became smaller and smaller his mind came to Professor Dumbledore, though he quickly crossed that one out, faster than the others. As much as the old man is known for his magical prowess, it has been Harry, a young wizard of above-average talent, who has been thwarting Voldemort at every turn and all other deadly threats that the school has faced ever since he arrived at Hogwarts.

Not once had the wizened old man been there when he faced each and every new menace head on.

Finally, after a long while of milling it about, a name passed through his mind - Sirius.

Jumping to his feet, Harry rushed over to his desk and immediately scorned himself for not thinking about contacting his godfather first about his worrying dream.