Author's Note: Another dark harmony story. Gees, I really need to stop and finish the stories I already have, but these ideas keep popping into my head, so what can I do?

I also seem to have a muse which prefers Harry not to be the Boy-Who-Lived.

Anyway, hope you all enjoy it. As for the update schedule for this and all my stories, expect well, sporadic updates.

The first scene of this chapter was re-written. It doesn't really affect anything other than the backstory.

This is unbeta-ed, so don't be too brutal on me in the comments.

Chapter 1

"It's him!"

"Who James?" questioned Sirius, distraught from his best friend's tone.

James Potter ran straight up to him, and grabbed a hold of his clothes, before violently shaking him. Panic evident in his eyes. "Voldemort. It's him. Take Lily and Harry, and get the hell out of here! I'll hold him off."

"What? James, no! I'll distract him an—"

"There's no time to argue!" interrupted James. "I'm the better duelist, so I'll buy more time. Don't let us both die for nothing."

He reached out a hand to grab James, but he was already out of reach.

Fuck, Fuck! Thought Sirius. What the hell am I supposed to do?

He was about to go after James but stopped as he heard Lily.

"Sirius, what's happening?" cried Lily, running towards him, with a baby Harry in her arms.

"Voldemort. He's here."

"What? Bu—Sirius. Where is James?"

A lump grew in his throat, "Downstairs."

"What do you me—" Understanding grew in her eyes. "We have to get Harry out of here," she said softly.

Harry. Merlin. I completely forgot—wait but how could Ja—

Lily grabbed his wrist.

Her mouth opened to speak but no words came out. An explosion sounded downstairs.

Shit.

"Lily, we have to get out of here."

The redhead's eyes darted to the side, and her eyes lit up.

"We'll take your broom," she suggested.

Immediately he grabbed it, and the two made their way to the Bedroom.

A loud thud sounded downstairs, followed by an evil cackle.

James. I failed you...

"I'm going to hold him off, tell Harry some stories about me eh?"

"Wha—

The beginnings of footsteps could be heard.

Sirius reached into his back pocket to get his wand… only to realise it wasn't there.

I left it in the living room! Are you serious?

He snapped his gaze to her, "I don't have my wand."

The footsteps were getting louder. As if Voldemort was walking at a slow pace to taunt them.

Lily breathed in deeply before walking briskly over to him, passing Harry to him and firing a Blasting Curse at the window.

"Please protect Harry at all costs." The redhead looked like she wanted to cry but kept her demeanor strong. "Go Sirius! Go!"

He nodded mutely, knowing he'd be useless without his wand.

"And kill that fucking rat for us, won't you," she added darkly as she made her way to the door.

And then she was gone.

Within moments lights of various colours fired throughout the hallway.

He had no choice. He had to go.

Wasting no more time, he mounted the broom and flew off with Harry in his arms. As he left, he turned his head back, only to be blinded by a bright green light followed by a lack of fighting.

The Killing Curse.

James and Lily… I'll avenge you. And try to be half the parents you would be for Harry.

When he was far away enough from Godric's Hollow, he apparated to his safe house. He had acquired it at the start of the war and had been staying there since the war broke out. No one else besides James and Lily even knew of its existence.

As he took in his surroundings, his breath hitched in his throat and he felt like he was going to be sick. Looking down at his arms he realised that somehow baby Harry had slept through the whole ordeal.

At least I didn't get puked on.

He walked over to the lounge room and put Harry down on the couch before his whole body simply collapsed.

It was all over. James and Lily were dead. Nothing would stop Voldemort.

And then the tears came.

Dark Lord Defeated

Sirius blinked at the front cover of the Daily Prophet. Was he imagining things now?

He shook his head as he read the article.

Earlier today it was found that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's wand and cloak were found at Longbottom Mansion. The only survivor found was Frank and Alice Longbottom's son, Neville. He was f—

He dropped the paper. Frank and Alice were dead too? Just how much worse was this going to get.

Reluctantly, he continued to finish the article and sighed with some relief. At least Voldemort is gone… but at what price?

Sirius turned the page feeling slightly better before his heart sank as he read the headline to a smaller article.

Potters Found Dead

James and Lily Potter née Evans were found dead at their residence in Godric's Hollow early morning. Their bodies were beyond recognition, missing limbs and their heads crushed. Auror's on the sce—

He read over the words again and again. Not only were James and Lily dead, but their bodies abused by Voldemort.

The tears returned.

It took ten more minutes before he continued to read.

It can only be presumed that their son, Harry Potter met the same fate.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has informed the Prophet that the Potter's were betrayed by none other than their good friend, Sirius Black. A nationwide manhunt for Sirius Black has now begun. Anyone with information should inform the Auror Department immediately. He is considered to be a powerful wizard, and extremely dangerous. We urge all wizards and witches: do not engage him.

For more information, turn to page 8.

Great.

Now the whole fucking country thought him to be a traitor! Thanks, Dumbledore!

Sirius let out a sigh. He supposed that he couldn't really blame the old man, for the Headmaster was there when they made him the Secret Keeper. Still, how could anyone think he would betray them?

He took a look at Harry, who was happily grabbing and playing with the toys he had bought from a local Muggle store.

How was he going to give Harry a good life?

As much as he wanted to find and kill Wormtail, he had to protect Harry, first and foremost.

He would do everything in his power to give Harry the life he deserves, and maybe in time, he'll be able to clear his own name.

He just hoped that Dumbledore and Remus believed him.

Why did no one believe him? No one?! He would never betray James and Lily. He would have gladly died for them if they weren't so bloody stubborn.

He cursed at the letter Dumbledore had written back to him. The one which labelled him a liar, and traitor, and that he should "hand himself in" for the greater good.

But he couldn't risk it. What if they didn't believe him at court? What would happen to Harry? Who would take care of him? Everyone was concerned about Neville Longbottom, not Harry Potter.

And he couldn't believe that Remus didn't believe him either. Although, he couldn't really blame him. He would be a hypocrite to be so trustworthy to his friends, considering he previously had thoughts that Remus betrayed them.

Fine, that was that.

He would homeschool Harry, and teach him everything he needed to know. He'll even do it the way James and Lily would, by enrolling him in a local Muggle school.

Once Harry was old enough to make his own decisions, Sirius would look to enacting his own revenge.

Now how does this bloody television contraption work again?

Harry walked out of the floo onto Platform 9 and ¾ and took in the sight for the first time ever. It certainly wasn't as grand as Sirius had described, but it was a welcome substitute from that godforsaken house.

As he tightened his grip on his trunk and started walking to the Hogwarts Express he idly wondered how many questions he was going to be asked today.

Who are you? How are you alive? Why are you only now coming to Hogwarts? Where have you been all this time?

Those sorts of questions were ones he was looking to ignore, and so he had arrived at 9 am to avoid most, if not all students.

He was attending seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had wanted to go in the past, but Sirius had always decided against it. But since he was 17, his Godfather reluctantly allowed him to make his own decision.

It was true that Sirius was still a fugitive, but since he was of legal age, there was no need for his guardian's name to appear anywhere.

Although, Albus Dumbledore had written back, saying he was "looking forward to meeting you."

Harry let out a scoff, as he walked onto the train.

Neither he nor Sirius liked Albus bloody Dumbledore.

He took a glance up and down the corridor, before walking all the way to the end, and taking residence inside the furthermost compartment.

He quickly put his belongings away, before taking a leisurely position across the seat with his legs up.

I hope no one comes and enters this compartment and asks questions, he thought as he closed his eyes, and rested his head against the wall, hoping to get an extra hour of sleep.

But no less than twenty minutes later was his sleep interrupted.

Hearing the compartment door swing open, and someone making an irritated sound, he slowly opened his eyes.

Bloody hell, I forgot to lock the door.

The view he was met with was interesting, to say the least.

A dark-haired brunette with curly hair was looking piercingly at him, her expression unfriendly, although he found it surprisingly pleasant to look at. She was wearing Muggle clothing and had her arms crossed, clearly annoyed.

"This is my compartment," she said coolly.

Harry didn't yet know why, but he already liked her.

Instead of replying with some smart-arse comment, he decided to go for a more diplomatic approach.

"We could share?" he replied with a slightly raised brow.

She scoffed, but after a few seconds of deliberation, walked inside and set up opposite him.

"If you annoy me I'll force you out of here," she said absentmindedly, as she was selecting a book from her trunk. Her eyes met his as she said her next words, "So please do not."

And then flashed him a smile. It was a nice smile he thought, briefly imagining how much better a real smile would look like.

He chuckled in response and was met with her raised brows. "Don't worry, I just want peace and quiet too."

The brunette looked at him with a curious expression, before she turned her eyes to the book she had selected.

Curious, he thought in regards to the witch. At least she didn't ask any of those questions.

He ought to introduce himself, but didn't feel like it would be well-received by her at that moment. So instead decided to go back to sleep, she seemed like quiet company at least.

His body involuntarily jumped in its place as the whistle to the Hogwarts Express leaving fired.

And was also met by a loud snort from the brunette still sitting opposite him.

Meeting her gaze he asked, "Something funny?"

"Was your beauty sleep interrupted?" she asked sarcastically, ignoring his question.

He rolled his eyes. "Hilarious." Then he decided that he may as well introduce himself, perhaps they could become friends. "Harry Potter."

"You're supposed to be dead," she stated back simply.

"And you're supposed to introduce yourself," he retorted.

She let out a small huff and looked off to the side. When her eyes met him again it was under scrutiny. Her tongue wetted her bottom lip before she replied, "Hermione Granger."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she replied stiffly.

Guess she doesn't really have any friends either, he mused.

There was an awkward silence that fell in the compartment for a few seconds before she asked, "So you're also in seventh year?"

"Yeah," he replied lamely. Although he gathered from her word choice that she was in the same year as him.

"Transfer student?"

"Something like that."

Their conversation ended there, and the two spent the next half of the trip in silence, apart from the sounds of pages being turned.

That was until a cat-like mewl sounded beside him, and only then did Harry realise it was from an actual cat.

A large ginger cat had jumped up beside him and was now snuggling into his side as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Crookshanks!" scolded Hermione.

"Er, it's fine," replied Harry. "If it's okay with you, that is," he added.

"No, no. It's fine. Sorry about that," she apologised with furrowed brows. And although she had been cold ever since they met, he noted that she was more comfortable around him now.

He chuckled a bit as he put his own book down, and ran his right hand softly along the cat's body. In response, Crookshanks started to purr. He gave a small smile.

"It is very unusual," said Hermione, causing Harry's attention to shift to her. "Crookshanks has never liked anyone else besides me."

He took another look at the cat named Crookshanks who seemed to now be perfectly at peace.

"Especially not any other gingers," mumbled Hermione quietly.

He gave another smile, this time directed at Hermione. "Well, I guess I'm different."

"Mm."

Harry picked up his book and continued to read, but as the minutes passed he couldn't help but feel that someone was watching his every move.

Snapping his eyes to Hermione, he noted she was reading her book intently. Perhaps he was wrong.

The door swung then open.

What now?

A redhead poked his head in. "Oh, there you are Hermione."

Hermione didn't even bother paying attention.

"Why weren't you at the Prefects meeting? I thought for sure you'd be Headgirl, but you weren't! And Parvati is now our year's Prefect?" he questioned, not even noticing the other occupant.

"Because I'm focusing on my studies, and learning to protect myself," she replied without taking her eyes from her book. "I don't have time to tell immature kids what to do when they don't even listen to me in the first place."

The redhead snickered. "Guess you just think you're too good. No need to ramble on about useless stuff, you could've just told the truth."

Her eyes met the redhead's and she replied, "I wasn't lying. You and I both know Voldemort will attempt something one day, I'd rather be prepared." Turning back to her book she added, "Shouldn't you be doing that as well? Being Neville's best friend and all."

"We're safe at Hogwarts. You-Know-Who would never try anything with Dumbledore there."

Hermione gave the redhead a lazy look. "Please go before I hex you, Ronald. Your stupidity is giving me a headache. If you don't have anything important to say, leave."

Ron scoffed before his eyes finally landed on Harry. "And who are you?"

"A student," he replied, already disliking the redhead.

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Well I don't know why you're hanging out with Hermione," he said mockingly. And then leaned over and quietly added, "She's a bit mental don't ya think?"

Harry looked over at Hermione, who wasn't paying attention, before turning his gaze back to the redhead. "No, I don't," he replied with a shrug.

Ron looked at him like he was mad. "Urm, okay. Whatever you say. What house are you in any way? Don't think I've seen you before…" His head tilted. "You're not a Slytherin are you?"

"I'm not in any house yet."

"Yet? What do you mean you look like you're in our yea—Oh, I see. You must be one of those—uh new students we get every couple of years."

"Mm."

Ron let out a small chuckle. "Well if you're sorted into Gryffindor and not like Hermione, me and the rest of the guys will be sure to welcome you," he told him chipperly. "You might even get to be friends with The-Boy-Who-Lived," he added with a whisper.

Hermione snorted.

"Something funny, Granger?"

Hermione ignored Ron's question.

"Anyway," began Ron dramatically. "Join Gryffindor." And winked at him.

Guess there are also annoying and idiotic people in the Wizarding World.

"Ron, what are you doing?" came another voice.

"Just talking to the new kid."

"Hmm?" And a dirty-blonde-hair teen poked his head in. A small scar shaped like a lightning bolt was on his forehead.

Neville Longbottom.

"I'm Neville, you?" said the teen with his hand out in greeting.

"A transfer seventh year," he replied, shaking his hand.

Neville frowned but didn't comment on Harry's lack of openness. His eyes then landed on Hermione, before he looked back at Ron with a sigh.

"Ron, have you been annoying Hermione again?"

"Uhh."

"He has been. So can you please get him to leave?" asked Hermione, clearly on better terms with Neville than Ron.

"Sorry about that. You know how he can be."

Hermione, unimpressed, clicked her tongue in annoyance.

Neville frowned but dragged Ron out of the compartment.

"Does he always do that?"

"Ronald?" she clarified with distaste. "He has been since first-year. All he does is annoy me and makes jokes all day."

"He does seem to be that type of person."

Shutting her book with a loud snap, Hermione's full attention shifted to him. He wasn't sure when they had started to be so comfortable around each other but he wasn't going to bring it up.

"I am however surprised that you didn't fanboy over Neville, like everyone else."

"Why would I? He was a baby when Voldemort vanished, I doubt it was the doing of a one-year-old boy." Casting her a curious look he added, "Why? Do I look like someone who would do that."

"Not necessarily. It's just the only thing new students ever care about."

He gave a questioning look.

"Meeting the famous 'Boy-Who-Lived,'" she clarified with a roll of her eyes.

"You don't like Neville?"

She paused for a few moments before replying. "It's rude to ask a stranger personal questions," told Hermione. "But no, that's not true. Neville isn't that bad, he's friendly and helps out others. But he's not a very good role model. He's always been over-confident like he can defeat Voldemort with a click of his fingers. Some say he has a secret trick up his sleeves, but I don't believe in stupid rumours like that. And maybe if he wasn't always siding with Ron and cracking smiles at his jokes I would be helping h—" she stopped mid-sentence.

Hermione then turned her head away and muttered something to herself. Obviously she hadn't meant to ramble on so much to him.

"Well they seem like a great bunch," he commented sarcastically, believing her view, even if it was biased.

Again he was met with the silent treatment and Hermione went back to reading.

Heaving a sigh he did the same.

A few minutes later Hermione was tapping her finger along the edge of her book quite annoyingly.

"Something bothering you?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Hmm?" Pausing her movements she looked at him. "Oh okay. Why didn't you introduce your name to Ron and Neville?"

"To be honest? I want to get as much peace and quiet as possible. I'm not sure if Neville is one to tell others, but I think that the redhead would start telling everyone he knew and within minutes students would be pouring in here."

Hermione chuckled with amusement, "You dodged a bullet then. The git would probably do exactly that."

"Good to know."

Her eyebrows rose. "You know Muggle sayings?"

"I attended local schools. And my G—" he paused. What the hell? He had just met her and almost spouted about Sirius. That would've been bad… really bad. They weren't even friends, yet. "Anyway, I know a lot about the Muggle world."

"Okay," she said slowly assessing him. She looked away before asking, "Can you leave for a few minutes? We'll be arriving soon and I need to get changed into my school robes."

"Sure."

Why is it so easy to talk to her? He wondered, as he separated himself from Crookshanks, who didn't seem very happy about the entity acting as his bed moving.

Upon returning Harry noticed that she was wearing the house colours of Gryffindor, and saved that piece of information for later.

When her eyes met his again, they were softer in intensity than their first meeting.

He took a good look at her eyes. They were brown. A deep chocolate brown.

Harry, Hermione, and some third years shared a carriage up to the castle. The ride, like the Express, was pleasant. Although he did catch himself looking at Hermione for longer than necessary.

Ever the gentleman, Harry offered his hand to help Hermione out of the carriage. The third-year girls nearby 'awed' at the scene, causing Hermione to glare at them, to which all their faces went pale.

Regardless, with her face impassive she took his hand, before immediately letting go once she was on solid ground.

They walked in silence, with Harry asking a few questions here and there. Hermione, who at first seemed annoyed to answer slowly became more enthusiastic with her responses.

He could tell she was smart, really smart. And although she had a cold exterior she seemed like she would be warm to him if they ever became close.

When they reached the Great Hall he asked, "Um, do you know where I should go, being a new student and all?"

"You didn't get instructions?" she asked. After receiving a shake of his head she said, "You could go ask Professor McGonagall." And motioned to an elderly witch, who was standing firm, her lips pursed.

"Thanks," he replied, and made his way over to the McGonagall, while Hermione went inside.

He felt a tinge of sadness at her leaving.

"Excuse me, Professor?"

"Yes? What can I do fo—dear god… H—Harry?"

Harry gave a wary smile, "That's correct."

It was as if her tough demeanour from moments ago had completely collapsed. She looked like she was on the brink of tears. "I know Albus mentioned that James' and Lily's son would be attending this year, but never did I think it was actually true."

She shook her head. "Anyway, what can I help you with?"

"Er, I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go inside the hall. I haven't been sorted into any house yet."

"Albus has set up your sorting. Don't worry about it and just stay near the back. You'll be sorted after the first-years."

What does that mean exactly, he wondered.

"And Mr Potter, if I may ask. Who has been looking after you all this time?"

"I'm sure Dumbledore will fill you in on the details after he interrogates me," he replied a bit harshly and with a smile.

McGonagall flinched at his reply, her mouth hanging open in surprise. It only shut when they heard a man yelling loudly a few rooms away.

The Professor's demeanour changed back to how it was originally. "Excuse me, Mr Potter, but I need to go talk to the first-years. Please head inside."

Harry gave a nod and walked into the Great Hall. Thankfully no one seemed to notice him, too embroiled in their own conversations. Although he did notice a certain brunette clearly looking at him. He also realised she wasn't sitting with anyone else in her year.

He leaned against the back wall discreetly and waited as the first years entered and were sorted.

"Now, now before we begin the feast I'd like to announce something else," began Dumbledore.

The hall suddenly went quiet.

I was hoping that he wouldn't actually do it...

"I am pleased to tell everyone that Harry Potter has joined Hogwarts for his seventh year."

Whispers and gasps immediately broke out, the noise in the hall quickly became deafening.

"Yes. I know it's quite exciting and although we are going through dark times, it is of great surprise and relief that Harry is here with us today. In light of this special development, Harry will also be sorted. I know this is a little bit unusual. But I would like young Harry here to have the same experience all of us have had. So Mr Potter, if you will."

Seriously? In front of the whole school?

Sighing he pushed himself off the wall and walked up to the front, all the while passing students whispering, no doubt about him.

Is all they do gossip?

When he sat down, Professor McGonagall, placed the hat on his head slowly.

'My, my. What an interesting wizard we have here today,' said a voice inside his head, presumably the Hat's. 'Now let's see where you will fit best. Smart, so maybe to Ravenclaw… no… there's loyalty too... Wait... what's this?'

What's what? He thought, feeling a bit stupid talking to a voice in his head. It was a very weird experience.

A sound resembling a chuckle went through his head. 'Cunning, ambitious and powerful too… Maybe you'll do well in the Snake Pit. Hmmm… No. That won't do, there's only one real place for you.'

"Gryffindor!"

Cheers broke out in the hall, with the Gryffindor's the loudest. Ron looked ecstatic.

Harry didn't feel the same.

"Just like your parents," he heard McGonagall murmur as she took the sorting hat away.

Them, and my Godfather… and Hermione.

He looked at the Gryffindor table again.

Right. And Ronald too… forgot about him.

Deciding he'd rather not force a smile at his housemates, he kept his expression neutral. He observed the various looks they were giving him. Unsurprisingly, most of them were looking at him in confusion. Whether it was due to him being alive, or having no idea who he was, he didn't know.

"Harry! you're welcome to sit with us," called out Ron, motioning to Neville and two other Gryffindors he didn't know the names of.

Harry didn't even bother being polite and responding, instead, ignoring him and walking straight over to a certain brunette.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked Hermione.

Hermione looked around with a sly smirk at all the shocked expressions before her gaze focused on him.

The smirk elicited something inside him.

She shrugged, "No. But others might."

He gave a chuckle and a smile, before sitting down next to her.

Surprisingly throughout the feast, only a few of his housemates asked him questions, to which he gave short responses. He quickly gathered that it had something to do with the witch sitting next to him.

His interest in Hermione only grew more.

Author's Note: I get that the beginning is pretty rough, but then again the same can be said for all my stories.

Anyway, if you enjoyed the chapter please leave a review.