A/N: I've had this idea running through my mind, and I decided to go ahead and write it out. I enjoy stories where Sirius has a daughter, and this is along that vein. It's going to involve time travel at some point. I don't really want to give anything away, but I know some people don't like time travel fics, so I wanted to go ahead and throw that out there. Just from these details alone, you should already know that the story won't be canon. It is going to follow the general plot of the original series, but there will be different details with the addition of my OC. Harry will be paired with Sirius' daughter in this fic. I'm open to suggestions on any other pairs.

Thanks for reading; I hope you all enjoy the story! I'll love you forever if you leave a review! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter One:

Harley Smith had lived in St. Anthony's Orphanage as long as she could remember. The stewards who ran the orphanage didn't know anything about her family, or where she came from. They estimated that she was about eighteen months old when she was dropped off at a hospital in London with nothing but the clothes she was wearing and a bracelet inscribed with the name Harley. Child Services placed her in an orphanage in Surrey as it was the closest facility able to take a child her age. The head administrator added the surname Smith.

She was a beautiful child, with striking grey eyes and long black hair. Her little face could put any angel to shame. She'd been adopted many times, but was returned within a few weeks in each instance. The adopters always claimed that weird things happened around her and that she made them uneasy. The stewards had seen such occurrences when the child first arrived, so they knew the couples weren't making up stories. They decided to deem her ineligible for adoption after the seventh time she was returned. Nothing ever seemed to stick, and the strange outbursts seemed to get worse every time a new couple took her home.

The truth was, little Harley Smith was a witch. Neither she nor her caretakers knew this, of course. She was adopted for the first time about two months after her arrival. A young couple saw the lonely little angel playing with a doll in the corner and instantly decided that she was the child for them. Harley, however, was scared and nervous. She'd been taken from the only life she ever knew and tossed into an entirely new environment. This uneasiness caused the magic inside her little body to flare up more often than a magical child with a steady upbringing. The adoption exacerbated her anxiety as she was just getting accustomed to her new living situation when she was again removed to a new home.

The young inexperienced couple didn't know how to deal with these strange happenings in addition to the more commonplace child rearing issues, and immediately regretted their decision to adopt. They tried to make it work for a few weeks, but little Harley could sense their disquiet, which added to her own. This created a vicious cycle of more accidental magic which led to more parental angst, which then contributed to an increase of accidental magic, and on it went.

Needless to say, Harley Smith was back at the orphanage within a month. She continued cycling through homes for the next three years. Every couple who adopted the child was warned of the previous failures, but each wanted to be the one that worked out for the innocent little thing. The trouble was, the rejection of seven different sets of parents, in addition to life in an orphanage, ensured that little Harley Smith was anything but innocent. She was jaded and wary, especially of adults. Nothing they ever said could be relied upon, and she decided at a very young age that she simply couldn't trust authority figures.

Another unfortunate side effect of being shuffled from home to home was the inability to make true friends at the orphanage. Most children that had lived in the home long term held a grudge against Harley for being chosen seven times. Most people wanted a child under the age of two, but she continued to be chosen until they stopped showing her to potential parents. Every time she was returned and then chosen again the other children's bitterness towards her grew. Because of this she was an outsider, never allowed to join in any reindeer games.

Not all the children were satisfied with this punishment, however. Some of the more vindictive little shits also liked to push her around and steal what little portions the orphanage provided. The orphanage itself didn't starve their wards by any stretch, but budgets were always tight, so there was never any excess. Always just enough to remain healthy. With Harley's portions bullied away, the young girl often went to bed on an empty stomach.

All of these factors shaped the five-year-old Harley Smith that could be found standing in front of the mirror in the girl's bathroom, mentally preparing for her first day of primary school. She knew she was tough and that she could take care of herself, but she was desperately hoping to find a friend at school. Just one friend. One person she could trust, that she could turn to when she needed some comfort. The closest she'd ever had was Melanie, but she was more like a mentor.

Melanie was fifteen when Harley first arrived at the orphanage. She was never very friendly, but she'd give advice, and teach Harley how to take care of herself. Over the course of their time together Melanie taught Harley how to pick a lock and a pocket, as well as basic self-defense. The idea of theft didn't sit well with the young girl, but sometimes her stomach was just so hungry. She'd taken to lifting money from mums at the playground before sneaking off to the convenience store across the street. She'd then buy food she could stuff in her clothes before hiding it in her room at the home. That way she'd have a back-up if the other kids decided to take her dinner.

Melanie was gone, though. She'd left as soon as she turned eighteen. Now Harley was completely alone at the orphanage and nervous for her first day of school. She wasn't so much nervous about the curriculum. Being a lonely child gave her few choices in leisure activities, so she read quite a bit. She'd also always picked up things fairly easily, so she thought she'd do well in class. She was wary of the idea of a teacher, as well as the interactions with the other children.

Harley was a brave little girl, however, so after her mental preparations she raised her chin and returned to her room to grab her school bag. The school was only a few blocks from the orphanage, and Little Whinging was peaceful town, so the children walked to school every day.

She quickly made it to the school and found her classroom. There was only one other child from the orphanage in her grade, but he wasn't in her class. She was grateful for this small favor, for he was a nasty little boy. Scanning the room, she noted that the desks were grouped in blocks of four. Seeing no seating chart, Harley quickly walked to the back of the classroom, deciding on the group of desks farthest from the teacher's.

Slowly the room filled as children trickled in with their parents. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling as she watched some of the little brats whine and carry on simply because their parents were leaving them. Honestly, she thought, what is wrong with those kids? They'll get to see their precious mummies in just a few hours. There was one boy who was especially loud. He was rather large and round for a five-year-old. His mother was a tall, thin horse-faced woman. She was cooing at the boy while stroking his blonde hair in an attempt to calm him.

Harley was watching the display with disgust when she noticed a small boy with a shock of messy black hair, glasses and raggedy old clothes more suited for the large blonde boy's frame. His head was bowed, but she could see him lift his eyes to survey the room. He noted the teacher's desk and then his eyes travelled to the group of desks farthest away. He quickly side-stepped the blubbering mother and son, making his way over to where she was sitting.

He took the desk across from Harley, as it was the second farthest from the teacher's desk. His eyes never strayed to her, instead stared fixedly at the desk in front of him. This gave her a chance to study him. He seemed small for his age, like her. He also had that weary look of a kid who'd had experiences no child should have to endure. That was something Harley understood all too well.

She was brought out of her musings when he quickly raised his eyes to hers. It startled her a bit as she'd been blatantly staring at the boy and had been caught quite spectacularly. She quickly turned away, embarrassed, and watched the rest of the students pick their desks.

Finally the bell rang and the teacher subtly began to corral the remaining parents out the door. The woman then introduced herself as Mrs. Phillips before telling the class a bit about herself and her family. She then began to call roll, eventually calling the name Harry Potter. The name struck something buried deep in Harley's subconscious. It seemed so familiar, but the more she tried to recall any memories associated with it the further away they seemed. She looked around the room, but no one responded to the name and the teacher was looking over at their group.

Mrs. Phillips approached their table, calling out the name again with distinct annoyance in her voice. "I said Harry Potter." She was right on top of the black haired boy now. "You need to say 'Present' when I call your name, boy."

The messy haired boy's head shot up when he was addressed as "boy". Harley found this to be a very odd reaction. Why would he answer to "boy" but not as Harry? Furthermore, he looked up at the teacher with a confused expression.

Mrs. Phillips lips thinned as she glared at the small boy and Harley immediately took a dislike to her new teacher. "Mr. Potter, you will say 'Present' when I call your name. Do. You. Understand?"

She said the words slowly, as if Harry was stupid, and the chubby, blond headed ponce (who had cried for his mummy for a good ten minutes) started snickering. Harry looked up at Mrs. Phillips with fearful eyes that made Harley's heart melt for the boy. He looked so small and vulnerable in those baggy clothes. Harley may have only been five years old, but she'd been forced to grow up quickly. She understood that this woman, who was supposed to be their support, was now making a target out of a scared five year old boy. She may not have been doing it intentionally, but her intentions didn't change playground politics. Harley just chalked it up to another adult that couldn't be trusted and eyed her new teacher with disdain.

Harry slowly nodded his head and the teacher called his name again, agitation plain in her voice. "Let's try this again. Har-ry Pot-ter." She spoke each syllable of his name distinctly.

The soft "Present" was so quiet Harley almost couldn't hear it. She narrowed her eyes dangerously at the so called teacher. Why do all adults have to be so awful? Have they completely forgotten what it's like to be a kid? I'll never forget.

The teacher finally made it down to Harley Smith. "Here!" Harley called forcefully. The teacher raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"You will say 'Present' Miss Smith. Thanks to Mr. Potter I believe we have been over this quite thoroughly." Harley didn't respond, which resulted in an intense staring match between the little girl and grown woman. After a few moments of staring down the determined child, the woman sighed exasperatedly and moved onto the next name. Harley smirked triumphantly at her small victory and vowed in that moment that Mrs. Phillips would never hear the word 'present' pass her lips. Even if she was forced to read The Christmas Story aloud to the class, she wouldn't say the word. The ghosts would henceforth be known as the ghosts of Christmas past, here and future.

Harley was still reveling in her triumph when she noticed Harry's eyes trained on her from below the fringe of his hair. She smiled and winked at the boy, causing him to hastily lower his eyes and keep his attention firmly away from her the rest of the class.

Any attempt to speak to Harry throughout lunch and recess were firmly ignored. It seemed the boy wasn't looking for a friend, which severely disappointed the young girl. All the other kids ignored her, often times making fun of her status as an orphan. It didn't bring her down, though. It's hard to rub the absence of parents in the face of a child who's never been exposed to a real family. She was far too used to living in a group home to realize just how cruel their taunts were. It's all she'd ever known, and the brief encounters she'd had with "parents" left her wanting nothing more than to return to the orphanage.

Harry understood, though. He knew that this strange girl, who was the only person to ever be nice to him, was having the worst sort of insults thrown at her on a daily basis. He couldn't understand why they didn't seem to bother her. His aunt and uncle had been throwing their relationship with his cousin in Harry's face as far back as he could remember. They always told him he was nothing but a worthless freak with drunks for parents. He wasn't worthy of being a part of their family, so he was relegated to the cupboard under the stairs, and told he should feel lucky that they allow him any place at all. He had to do many chores in order to earn his place in the cupboard. "If you want to live here, you'll work, boy!" his uncle would scream at him.

Boy. Freak. Those were his names until he started school. He'd never known his name was Harry Potter. He'd never known he had a name at all. He'd desperately wished that one day a long lost family member would show up at his uncle's house and tell him it was all just a big mistake. That he didn't belong with the Dursley's. He belonged somewhere else, with a family that was all his own. That day never came, of course. He was forced to watch his aunt and uncle fawn all over his cousin, spoiling him rotten. And rotten he was. To the core.

Dudley's favorite past time was pounding his small cousin to a pulp. "Harry Hunting" he called it. At least now he knew why. It had always confused him since he didn't know his own name. The poudings weren't so bad at first. It had gradually gotten worse starting at age three. Dudley was aggressive and his parents only encouraged this behavior. As Dudley was steadily growing in size while Harry remained small, he knew it would only get more intense as they grew older. He also knew that if he ever found a friend at school he'd only be giving Dudley another target on which to practice. Dudley told him so, in fact.

"Ready to start school, freak? No one is going to want to talk to you, you know? You won't have any friends. If anyone does want to be your friend, I'll know they're a freak too. It will give me a new person to hunt!" He'd finished his taunts with a look of malicious glee on his pudgy face that made Harry's stomach turn. He knew he wouldn't be able to make any friends at school.

That was why Harry ignored the girl who'd stood up to his teacher for him. She'd tried to speak to him multiple times, but he refused to respond. The girl was even smaller than him. If he was to talk to her Dudley would hurt her; he wouldn't spare her because she's a girl. He couldn't stand it if someone was hurt because of him, especially the small black haired orphan who sat across from him at school. He didn't know why, but he felt particularly protective of the girl. It was…instinctual.

It had been two weeks since school started, and Harley still tried to speak to Harry every day, hoping that one day he'd finally speak back. She was walking around the school grounds during recess when she noticed him sitting alone on the curb. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the class bully Dudley, along with his mean little gang. They were all approaching Harry with a nasty glint in their eyes.

Harley started making her way over as well. Harry was a very shy boy. He didn't say much (and never to her), but Harley could see what kind of person he was, and she liked what she saw. She also felt a protectiveness over him that she couldn't quite explain. She'd never made a conscious decision to feel that way, it was just there.

She was a few dozen meters away when Harry realized Dudley's gang was a few feet behind him. Harley could see his entire body tense while he quickly rolled into a ball on the ground. The boys surrounded him, laughing. "What a good little punching bag you are, freak. Rolled up in a ball so nicely for us to practice," Dudley taunted.

The words enraged Harley beyond anything she'd ever felt in her young life. All of those boys were much larger than Harry, and they were going to beat him up even though he was making no attempt to fight back.

She ran to Harry as quickly as her little legs would take her. The no good bullies were still taunting him, but were moving in to throw their first punches. Harley quickly darted between them and stood over Harry's prone form. "Stay back or I'll turn you into a toad!"

She had absolutely no idea where that threat came from. It just sort of slipped out of her mouth. The boys stopped moving forward, but burst out laughing. "That's rich; you must be a freak too. You'll be helpful, though, as you look like you'll fight back. We need practice on a moving target as well."

All of Dudley's friends laughed, but Harley felt something powerful stirring inside. She'd had this feeling many times before, each instance ending in some strange, unexplainable occurrence. Suddenly the boys stopped laughing as they were all thrown back several feet, landing on their bums.

They stared at Harley in a shocked stupor that was quickly turning to anger. She looked down at Harry who had sat up and was staring at her in wonder. She reached down, hooked her hand under his armpit and hauled him to his feet. The bigger boys were slowly rising to their feet as well and both Harry and Harley knew they needed to be somewhere Dudley's gang wasn't, and quickly.

Harry grabbed Harley's hand and started running. It was the only way he'd ever been able to avoid his cousin's fists. He led her around the school where they hid behind a dumpster. They were both trying to catch their breath as quietly as possible while listening for any approaching footsteps.

When Harry finally felt like they were safe for the moment he turned to Harley with a grave expression. "You shouldn't have done that," he said quietly. "My cousin and his gang will always be after you now. He told me he'd never let me have any friends at school." Harry quickly realized what he'd intimated and started to stammer nervously. "Not that I think you'd ever want to be friends with a freak like me…It's just that now they'll think you are." He blushed crimson and averted his eyes to his lap.

Harley was still caught up on the first part of his speech. He said that his cousin's gang would be after her. His cousin. He's related to that blond blubbering bully? "Cousin? Dudley is your cousin?"

Harry was surprised that she was more concerned about his relation to Dudley than she was about him thinking she might be his friend. He'd been told he was worthless all this life, so he thought she'd be upset at his slip. "Erm…yeah. My mother was his mother's sister."

"Oh." This was all she said for about thirty seconds, which caused Harry to fidget. He was still mentally kicking himself for implying that she'd want to be friends with the likes of him. He was surprised by her next words. "I can't believe he treats his own cousin like that. What a prat! And I don't have any friends, either, Harry, and you are not a freak. I'd love to be your friend."

She smiled warmly at him and he felt his stomach do a little flip. Someone wanted to be his friend? He didn't understand at all, especially since she was risking Dudley's wrath. He looked back at her unsurely. "Are you sure? Dudley will be really mean to you."

Harley looked down sadly. Maybe he didn't want to be friends with her. "He was never exactly nice to me before. I figure he'll be a lot worse after what just happened, anyway. I understand if you don't want to be my friend, though."

Harry's eyebrows shot up, surprised, and he quickly backtracked. "No! It's not that I don't want to be your friend! I do! You're the only person who has ever been nice to me or stood up for me. I just don't want you to get hurt because of me."

Harley raised her head and their eyes met. Her face broke out into a happy smile. "I can take care of myself, Harry. So, friends?"

His smile mirrored hers at the reality of having his very own friend. "Friends!" She quickly leaned in and gave him a quick hug. She didn't know at the time that it was the very first one he could ever remember receiving. He didn't know that the only hugs she'd ever received were from "parents" who eventually rejected her, something he never intended to do again.

A/N:

So I named Sirius' daughter Harley. I didn't do this purposefully to make their names so similar. I am just horrible at deciding on names and always end up defaulting on family members. My sister's name is Harley and I thought it would be the perfect name for Sirius' daughter. I mean, he'd want to name her something that would go against his family, so what better than the brand of a muggle motorbike? Anyways, that was my logic.

Next chapter will include the time between now until they go to Hogwarts. I hope you enjoyed this introduction chapter. Please review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!