Hello, everyone! There's been a new story idea that's been nagging me so I started outlining it when I've have nothing else to do. If you read Enveloped in the Darkness, I actually mentioned and gave this story a very rough teaser.

Well, I've been hitting snags with EbtD so I decided to let it breathe for a bit. School and work have been getting to me so I am just going to wait until the semester's over before I get back to it.

In the meantime...I wrote this chapter and I enjoyed writing it so much that I wanted to post it. This story will not be as long as my other one, but it will be fairly lengthy - over 60k words, at least. Maybe 100k. We'll see. Hopefully this first chapter catches your attention.

Chapter 1: Everyone has Problems

"Sirius! Wait!"

Sirius Black slowed down his furious gait, rolling his eyes briefly before turning around. Remus Lupin ran after him, skidding to a panting stop.

Sirius crossed his arms, giving his friend a baleful glare. "What?"

"James," Remus panted, wincing slightly. "Jamie-he didn't mean that. Honestly! He's just frustrated-you know how he gets when Evans turns him down -"

Sirius scoffed harshly. "He meant it! He always does! I'm sick of it! Evans stands him up and he takes it out on me!"

Remus held up two hands in a placating gesture, his eyes pleading. "I understand. He had no right to…to call you a – a Death Eater. But he's in a sour mood, you know? He doesn't mean it!"

Sirius closed his eyes and slowly inhaled. James did not call him a Death Eater. Not really. But he insinuated it, and that hurt more than anything. All Blacks were evil, after all, and James throwing that at him hurt more than he could say. It did not matter if James meant it or if he was just in a horrible mood. James' words hurt. They made Sirius furious and miserable and every emotion in between.

Sirius did not consider himself a Black, anymore. He was just…who he was. Black was his last name, but Black was different than Black, the Most Noble and Ancient House of Craziness. Did James not realize how much being compared to his family hurt Sirius? James was more family to him than the Blacks!

"I know," Sirius muttered softly. "But it still hurts, Moony. It was the worst thing he could've said. It's like he doesn't get me. It's like he doesn't know me at all! I just…you're my family, Moony! Prongs is, too! And Wormtail! The Blacks aren't! Why would he say that to me?"

Remus frowned mightily. "I don't know. He's…James is different from us. He's never…"

"Never dealt with having a rubbish life like us?" Sirius choked back a mocking laugh. "I guess that's a good thing…"

"It's a good thing," Remus agreed cautiously. "But it leaves him a bit…ignorant at times."

The two fifth years stood awkwardly in the seventh floor corridor. It was nearly curfew. Sirius shook his head sadly.

"We need to get back to the Common Room," Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius. "This can all be sorted out. Jamie is probably already kicking himself."

"Yeah," Sirius breathed. "But he's not going to understand what he did wrong. Not really. He'll brush it off like a joke. He doesn't understand what it's like to hate part of yourself. He doesn't get it at all…not like you, Moony."

Remus stared at him, at a loss of what to say. Being a werewolf was even worse than having the worst family in existence, Sirius thought. He patted his friend on the shoulder.

"I need some time alone," Sirius admitted. "I'll be back in the dorms later. I need…I need to think."

"…Alright," Remus sighed. "Just don't get caught out of bed, alright?"

"I know how to Disillusion myself – blimey, Moony, what kind of Marauder do you take me for?" Sirius laughed. Remus smiled. That was what Marauders did. Everything would be okay.

"Just…come find me if you want to talk," Remus said seriously before hugging him. Sirius returned it eagerly. He had never been hugged growing up. Remus had caught on to that a while back and made sure to correct it.

And that was why Remus was his best friend. He really was – Sirius just wondered if Remus knew that.

"Until later, then," Remus withdrew, stuck his hands into his pockets, and left. Sirius watched him go with a sigh.

Being a Black was always going to be a burden, he supposed. He would never escape from it. Someone somewhere would hold it against him – even worse, they would expect him to be like his family. Sirius shuddered as he continued walking down the hall in silence.

The only person in his family with any redeeming qualities at all was his brother, Regulus Black. Regulus was younger than Sirius and had been quite friendly and caring until their father had gotten his hooks into him. With Sirius being such a massive disappointment – a thing that Sirius was highly proud of, thank you very much – Regulus had been saddled with the Pureblood duties of the family.

The saddest thing about it all was that Regulus fell right in line. He went to Slytherin, hung out with the right people, and never even talked to his brother anymore. Sirius felt helpless; what was he supposed to do? How could he save his brother?

'I'm so alone,' Sirius thought glumly, turning around and pacing back the other way. 'Why can't things be easy?'

Voldemort was the obvious answer. The Dark Lord was the sole reason that all the Pureblood families were growing so powerful and outspoken. They had a leader. His family had a leader, approving all the despicable things that they did to their children. None of it was done out of love, either. It was done out of fear.

They would all have to deal with it, one day. Voldemort was growing more powerful. People were disappearing. Things would explode soon. Sirius turned around again when he was getting too close to the Fat Lady. He did not want to see anybody right now. Sirius just wanted…he wanted to go home. He wanted to get away from all of this.

But where was home? Sirius almost laughed. He did not have one, really. Maybe he could buy a flat, just so he would have one? He had gold – at least his father had not taken that from him.

"Home's with the Marauders," Sirius whispered softly. "But it's not home."

Sirius loved James. He really did. But James had grown up with a family that could not be any more different than his own. As a result, James just did not get it. Not all of it.

Sirius ran his hands through his thick, black hair. Oh well. At least he had awesome hair.

He turned around, set to go back to the Common Room…but there was a door to his right. Sirius frowned, looking to the other side of the hall. He was by the Tapestry of Barnamas the Barmy. This door…this door had never been there before! Sirius stared at it. It was a simple door, just like all the others in Hogwarts. Had it been invisible all this time? What was in there?

Sirius' Marauder senses were itching at his temples. He had to check, right? This was a mystery – the Marauders existed to solve mysteries. And to prank people…they existed mostly to prank people.

Sirius made his mind up pretty easily. He walked up to the door, resisted the temptation to knock, and opened it slowly.

Mr. Potter,

The following corporations have approached me in the past week seeking endorsement deals with you. As your agent, it is my obligation to inform you of any and all corporations that are interested in undergoing contract negotiations. However, there are only a few deals that I feel are worth pursuing. I have marked them accordingly and have attached their proposed contracts. As you can see in proposal one, article forty-seven, section ninety-six, Mr. Brenley's Balmy Beard Buffer…

Harry plopped down into his recliner by the fire, sipping hastily at the rim of his glass as his scotch sloshed around. He eyed the bloody letter with distaste before crumpling and throwing into the fire with his free hand. Harry's agent, Angie Robinson, could quite simply go fuck herself. In the past few months, she had had him doing endorsement deals with so many different companies that it made his head spin.

"You're eight years removed from your victory over You-Know-Who," She had insisted. "You need to get out and keep your name in the public eye to maintain your celebrity."

He did not care. How could she not see that?

Maybe it was his fault. Actually, it was - he had never said no, after all. But after the last endorsement deal with Elaine's Essentials – a bloody underwear endorsement that Ron had goaded him into doing – well…it had ruined his privacy. They had had him wear this skimpy, red…thing…and the response was awful. For him, at least. Now, Witch Weekly had named him Bachelor of the Year, the fan mail he had received ever since Voldemort had grown even more ridiculous than before, and now he literally could not go anywhere without being swarmed for autographs or more.

…At least he did not need to buy underwear anymore.

"That deal made you," Robinson had told him after Harry had complained. "Before, you were simply the wizard who killed the Dark Lord. Now…now you're a true celebrity. Now you've got sex appeal. Honestly, Harry, you should be proud. You do have such a lovely body, after all…"

Now, Wicked Witch wanted him to pose nude! Fuck that! Fuck them! He was done!

Harry downed his scotch in one gulp, scowled at the empty glass, and swished his holly wand. There was a bit of rustling in the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place as two more drinks made themselves before soaring to him.

Defeating Voldemort had almost been easier.

Harry let out a slow sigh, taking a generous gulp of his new drink as he stared into the fire. He flexed his fingers restlessly. Ever since defeating Voldemort that day in the Great Hall of Hogwarts…well, Harry was bored. Maybe that was why he agreed to do all of those cursed endorsement deals. Harry's relationship with Ginny had puttered out after just about a year. The magic of their relationship had died with the war. Their romantic endeavors had been fine…but just fine. Simply fine. And that was not enough for either of them.

Ginny was still his friend, though. Thankfully. Losing her friendship would have been horrible.

He was still bored, though.

Shortly after the war, that very same boredom had motivated Harry to enroll in the Auror Academy. Ron jumped at the chance to join him, eager to dispel the same boredom that plagued Harry, and they made it through the academy in one piece. It had been tough – there were plenty of witches and wizards there who would have been quite chuffed to knock war heroes down a peg or two – but they both came out the other side relatively unscathed with shiny new badges in their pockets.

…And then the boredom set in again. At least for Harry. Ron and Hermione had married mere months after Ron had joined the Aurors and they were both quite happy. But with their happiness, Harry's boredom had become solitary. Auror work required very little in the way of dueling, it seemed. Harry could just picture the amount of times he had been dispatched to settle a marital household dispute. They all ended the same: The couple or family would gape at him stupidly, shocked to find the Harry Potter at their doorstep.

And then the problem would be settled. All it took was a celebrity to fake a smile and help them talk it out.

It was boring.

Last year, Head Auror John Dawlish stepped down from his role in leading the Aurors for a comfortable, safe desk job. He had never really been a good choice for Head Auror, anyway. Dawlish's reputation as a duelist was in tatters by the end of the war. The search for a new Head Auror, however, had been interesting. The media enjoyed the free content, making guesses at who would become the new face of law enforcement in the Wizarding World.

That choice was left up to the Minister of Magic, however, as it always had been. Imagine Harry's shock when Kingsley Shacklebolt came knocking at Number 12 Grimmauld Place to ask Harry to take the Head Auror job.

Being 23-years-old at the time apparently did not matter; Harry's work in the field was impressive, Kingsley claimed. The black wizard had expressed a desire for a Head Auror that could lead by example.

"There are plenty of people who can handle the paperwork," Kingsley had smiled. "You'll need some training – John and I will be there for you, of course – but there's not a single witch or wizard that I would pick over you."

What could he say? Harry took the job. It solved the boredom, at least for a while. Harry found that he was pretty good at the job, but there was one thing that had surprised him. As the Hear Auror, he was responsible for speaking to the media on behalf of the Aurors. It was something that Harry was already quite adept at doing, but now he was a figurehead. He was the Aurors. He was a brand. And as such, everyone wanted a piece of him.

Harry had hired his agent when the offers and propositions became too much.

To anyone who would look at Harry's life and all of his accomplishments, they would probably claim that he had lived a very fulfilled life so far. Harry would chuckle dryly at that. Yes, he had…but he was still bored.

Honestly, he felt lost, too. Was it not supposed to get better after Voldemort was gone? That was eight years ago and he still was not happy!

Maybe it was the house, Harry mused. Sirius had left him Number 12 when he died ten years ago and Harry had never really felt the need to leave it. Why should he? He already had a house. Not only that, but the house was his last real connection to his godfather. Teddy was his last connection to Remus and Tonks.

Harry downed the drink in one gulp, passively enjoying the haze of the movement. He missed them all so much.

Ten years. It was a long time. And here Harry sat, making no noise and pretending he did not exist. Harry snorted loudly.

Fuck the Dursleys.

He needed to get out here. He needed to get out of the house, out of the country. Something. Anything. Maybe Kingsley would give him an extra vacation. It was still fairly warm outside…

The front door of the dark, decrepit house opened slowly and Harry jolted upright. His mind sobered quickly. Did he not lock that damn door? He always did – and warded it heavily to keep the press and crazies out.

Seventeen-year-old Harry would have immediately rolled behind cover. Twenty-five-year-old Harry, however, sat still and motionless. He had his wand. He had the dueling skills. What he needed was the element of surprise. They would not see him – the chair's back was facing the door.

"Woah," Harry heard faintly as the wooden floor creaked under the intruder's feet. "This is amazing."

Harry stilled his breath, truly making no noise and pretending he did not exist this time.

"…Hello?" The voice called. It was male, Harry noticed, and young. A teenager? "Mum? Dad? Anyone...How did I get here?"

Harry furrowed his brows. Mum and dad? If this was really a teen, well, he had very little to be cautious of. It was time to act.

"Drop your wand," Harry growled threateningly. He heard the floorboards creak sharply – the intruder must have jumped. "You're intruding upon Head Auror Harry Potter's household – drop your wand and you will not be injured."

It was similar to what he was told to say to criminals – Head Auror Harry Potter, drop your wand, all that rot – and perhaps that was how it slipped from his lips so easily. He waited a split second –

"O-okay," The teenager stuttered. "I don't mean any harm. I'm not even sure how I got here."

Harry heard a tentative thud as the boy's wand slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor. Immediately, Harry rolled out of the recliner, spinning to a seated crouch to look at his intruder at last.

And his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

The boy was instantly recognizable. He was fairly thin and tall for his age – fifteen? Maybe sixteen? – and the boy's black hair swept gracefully to the nape of his neck. Smooth features, a strong chin…this boy was a Black.

And not just any Black, either. Harry knew this boy. He knew those eyes, crinkled as they were in fear and nervousness. He knew how the teen's laugh would sound, sharp and surprised at first before giving way to deep, rumbling laughter.

"There we go," Harry's voice was much smoother than his frazzled nerves. He had to ask. He had to know for sure. "My name is Harry Potter and I'm not sure how you got into my house, either. What is your name?"

He knew it before the boy's lips opened. Harry could imagine the boy's voice just a hair deeper and rougher – and the boy proved him right.

"I'm Sirius Black," The teen said timidly. "I – I beg your pardon, sir, but I did not mean to intrude. Like I said, I-I'm not really sure how I got here."

Harry blinked. He blinked again. And then he stood slowly, lowering his wand. Well, he had no reason to complain about boredom now, did he? This situation was plenty interesting.