Harry Potter and Erised's Desire

Chapter One:

Harry Potter stood outside the Dursley's home at Number 4 Privet Drive. He wiped the dirt off his face, wishing that his aunt had given him permission to drink from the garden hose. She had sent him out to weed the garden again, trying to win the neighborhood's garden contest. Petunia swore that it would lead to more, but it was honestly just bragging rights within this little cookie cutter neighborhood.

This little cookie cutter neighborhood is where Harry had to survive his summers. Outside, all the houses were the same with the manicured lawns and white picket fences. Nobody knew that there was a world of wonder and magic right underneath their noses - especially if they just knew where to look. And Harry Potter knew all about that world because he was part of that wondrous world. He was a wizard, something he didn't discover until three years ago when a giant named Hagrid had knocked down a door of a tiny shack in the middle of nowhere. It was the only time Harry had been to the shore and out of Surrey, except for his time at Hogwarts. Not that he actually gotten to enjoy it or anything.

Food was scarce and he was forced to sleep on the dirt floor with the thinnest of blankets. But Hagrid had saved him.

If only someone would save him now.

He turned back to the garden, focusing on the lavender and honeysuckle he had planted. This garden was actually his, only Aunt Petunia claimed it. She had once told him, forgetting for a brief moment that she had hated him, and let it slip that Lily was good at gardening. Harry had latched on to that piece of information when he was young and went to producing a beautiful garden with roses and petunias, lined with honeysuckle and lavender. He had wanted to plant calla lilies, but Aunt Petunia had vetoed that.

The garden may be his, but it really wasn't. There wasn't anything in this home that was really his, except his school trunk. It was sad really that everything he owned he could fit in a trunk. He kept it packed in hope that the months would fly by and he would be back at his real home soon.

Harry sighed, closing his eyes thinking about the end of last term. He had been so close to getting what he wanted most in the world, a family. Harry believed for once he could have it for 2 glorious hours, and he did, until fate took it away again. He godfather had been on the run for a month now, and harry was still in the process of trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence so he could leave this cookie cutter neighborhood for good.

He let out a shuddering breath, a sob caught at the back of his throat. He wanted to be with Sirius, with Remus. His former professor and godfather where together, he was able to figure that out through the letters that he had received from them. They were together and hopefully trying to figure out a way to get him out of there. His uncle had been particularly brutal on him for the incident last summer, and he was still recovering from that punishment.

"Boy, make yourself scarce. The ladies are coming over tonight for a late night tea, and Vernon and Diddykins are out bonding."

Bonding? If that is what you want to call getting drunk and hitting on the local women. "Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry answered tonelessly. He tried to keep his voice level, to not show any emotion. He didn't want another punishment, never mind the fact that the sun was beginning to set.

He scurried away, heading toward the old playground. Reaching into his sleeve, he pulled out his wand, and impulsively stuck it out.

His aunt said to make himself scarce, so that is what he was planning to do.

Last summer he had accidently summoned the bus, so he hoped it worked the same way. Sure enough with a loud bang, at least this time Harry didn't trip over the curb, the bus showed up. Harry quickly got on the garish purple triple decker bus; no one recognizing him with the baseball hat he had on.

"Where to?"

Harry stood for a second, wondering what he was going to say. He actually didn't have a plan, and quite honestly it was very Gryffindor of him, running off with no plan, but honestly he didn't know where to go, only that he had to make himself scarce. And where do you go when you have nowhere else to go, but home.

"Godric's Hollow."

Stan had raised an eyebrow, but thankful didn't say anything to draw attention to the young celebrity. He just called the destination out, and went along his business much to Harry's delight.

The bus stopped by a fountain in the middle of Godric's Hollow and deposited Harry there with no more than just a passing glance, and for that he was thankful. He didn't want anyone questioning who he was and why he was there. He looked around the small wizarding village seeing a small church with a cemetery. It was Saturday night and it sounded like the service was still going on in the small chapel. He wondered if that was where his parents got married, or maybe that was where he had gone to church up until that fateful night in 1981.

Harry just kept walking, not knowing where he was going, but letting his feet just lead the way. He walked until he found what he was looking for. The house was a crumbling wreck, all the way from the roof to the foundation. The gates was littered with graffiti of well wishes and thanks to Harry for ridding the world of a terrible horror, but at what cost?

It was a small cottage, mostly ivory with maroon colored shutters. He closed his eyes and could see his mother gardening in the overrun garden. He could see remnants of honeysuckle and lavender like he had put in Aunt Petunia's garden, which caused Harry to smile just a little bit. Aunt Petunia would be horrified to have anything like her "freak" of a sister.

He stood out, staring at the house, willing himself to go in. Harry wanted to see, he wanted to see where his life had ended and began all at once. He touched the kissing gates and started up the stone path leading to the maroon front door with the griffin knocker. He touched the knocker and was granted access to the Potter Home in Godric's Hollow.

He made his way into a home he never knew, but knew that he would always consider this place home.

Miles away in Scotland, Dumbledore, who was arguably the most powerful wizard in Britain , looked up with a start. Someone had just tripped the wards at Godric's Hollow.

In another Potter estate, two close friends and a bushy-haired girl stood looking at the plans they had drawn up. They had known that Harry needed to get away from his muggle family of his, and no matter what his letters said, Hermione just knew that something wasn't right this summer. The two friends looked at each other in surprise, feeling the wards of Godric's Hollow calling to them. The house of Potter was calling home it's wayward sons.

Away in a little cottage in the little town of Ottery St. Catchpole, a young man felt the pull of wards he hadn't felt since he was four years old. His little brother was finally finding home.

Sirius was the first to apparate to Godric's Hollow, and hastily cast a disillusionment charm on himself to avoid being seen by any stragglers who were making their way homes from the local pub. He was surprised that after all these years in Azkaban and not having time to focus clearly on his destination that he could still make it to the place he had once called his second home.

He stared at the beautiful ivory cottage that had been a longstanding structure in the Potter line. It was traditionally a newlywed cottage, the cottage that all young couples lived in until it was time to inherit Potter Manor, which proved to be sooner than later. Sirius could remember the sounds of Lily Potter singing away in the garden as James with his deep rich voice would read The Tales of Beedle the Bard to Harry. Sirius could see it in his mind's eye that way it had looked in its prime, with children running up and down the street waving to Lily and James before they went underneath the Fidelus Charm.

Oh if things had only gone differently.

He looked up at the house, gasping at the sight. He had seen the house immediately after the tragedy had occurred. The house was a crumbling mess, the roof where Harry's crib was had collapsed in presumable from the failed killed curse. All the downstairs windows had been blown out from the battle between James and Voldemort. His brother in all but blood did go down without a fight. He was a fierce warrior, that had made him one of the best from aurors, but even a better father.

Sirius knew that he could never fill James's shoes.

Looking at the house now, there was no sign that it had ever been attacked that fateful Halloween night. It seemed as if the little cottage in Godric's Hollow had repaired itself. He walked up the walk, feeling the wards accepting him as a son of Potter. The wards were warm and accepting, the way that Potter magic traditionally felt. It caressed his skin, welcoming to the place he had called home, a place that was his home for a while when he had to recover from a death eater attack.

He reached for the door knob, and saw that it shimmered the familiar Gryffindor ruby red. Walking in, he saw the familiar foyer, where James had fallen, looking as pristine as it did the day that Lily and James had moved in.

Who tripped the wards? Sirius idly wondered, remembering the reason why he had apparated to Godric's Hollow in the first place.

He walked into the living room and saw a familiar mop of black hair staring at a picture. Harry had found his way home.

"Harry?" Sirius called gently.

"Sirius?" Harry turned and a looked at him, he looked a little worse for wear. Sirius could tell that his godson had already lost some weight, and it had only been a couple of weeks since term had ended. Harry stood and launched himself into his godfather's arm, ignoring the way it felt when he moved.

"You shouldn't be here, you could be caught."

"I won't be caught here, Potter Cottage is underneath a death Fidelus, the caster was Remus and I am the secret keeper."

"I thought I was the last Potter, and only I could perform the death Fidelus to seal the cottage . . ." Harry trailed off, trying to remember the information from charms. He had asked Professor Flitwick about the Fidelus charm when he had found out his parents had used the complex charm.

"You are biologically the last Potter, but your grandfather had adopted Remus and me through magic to offer us protection from the outside world, we are recognized sons of the House of Potter."

Sirius let that information sink in. He led Harry back to the cream colored sofa that Lily had spent hours picking out of a muggle furniture catalog. Then she had spent hours putting charms on the sofa making it comfortable, and it was. Maybe with Harry's permission they would move it to their summer home.

He leaned down and picked up the photo frame that Harry had thrown on the ground. Sirius looked at it, remembering that he was the one who had taken the picture of the small family.

Lily was holding Harry and James was holding Connor. Connor . . .

Memories came flooding back with the broken memory charm. Harry's half-brother.

"I recognize Mum and Dad, but who is that young boy?"

"You have a half brother," Sirius held up a hand to forestall him. "I didn't tell you because I didn't remember until I saw the picture. We shouldn't stay out in the open too long, but I am not taking you back to your Aunt's house. You look like death wormed over, and you have lost weight. We can apparate from here to the another property, just hold on to me."

Harry nodded, wondering what crazy turn his life was getting ready to take.

AN: Another plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. I have not abandoned the crossover I am writing. Please reveiw.