A Different Beginning

Chapter IX - Black, Birthday, and DADA

Harry was grinning when he came down the stairs and into the kitchen a few weeks later. His summer had been a blast so far. First, he had only actually been grounded for five days. Second, he had regular correspondence with Ron, Hermione, and Neville; and third, his Da and Uncle Remus had taken him on a trip to Australia. They had spent a week there, living in a house that the Potters apparently owned. They had gone sight seeing and had spent some time on the beach. It had been a lot of fun. Remus had even met with a man who had a bit of information on lycanthropy; he carefully added this man's information to his research.

Harry knew that James had chosen the trip to try to get Harry's mind off of what had happened in June. He knew that his Da was not overly pleased to know that his son's first two years at Hogwarts had brought him face to face with Voldemort twice. James also knew that Harry was having nightmares.

Harry hadn't told his father about the dreams that he was having. He didn't want to worry him. But the dreams came often. A mix of manic laughter with flashes of green light, Quirrell's body with Voldemort's head, Ginny twitching on the floor as Voldemort held her under the Cruciatus Curse, a giant basilisk and Ginny lying almost dead on the cold chamber floor. He would wake up and cuddle Foolish to him, glad that the dog was there to make him feel better. But James knew about the dreams. He could hear Harry thrashing about and moaning in his sleep. But he didn't say anything about it because he knew that Harry would tell him in good time.

Harry pushed the thoughts from his mind as he entered the kitchen where James and Remus were sitting, looking solemn. Those were not the faces that Harry was looking for on his thirteenth birthday.

"What's up?" Harry asked as he sat down and began to help himself to the French toast that Maddy had made.

James looked at Harry, his eyes dark. "Harry, we need to talk about something."

Harry glanced up at his father and uncle in surprise. He very rarely heard such a serious note coming from his father's voice. "Alright."

James dropped the paper that he was reading in his son's lap. Harry picked it up and read the title above the picture:

SIRIUS BLACK HAS ESCAPED FROM AZKABAN PRISON
Written by: Jonathon Jackson

Sirius Black, 31, escaped from Azkaban Prison sometime late last night. The Dementors are furious and have no idea how he managed to escape the well-guarded facility. The Ministry of Magic is in an uproar, as no one has ever escaped before.

Black was imprisoned for his crime twelve years ago. He murdered Peter Pettigrew, 19, in the middle of a crowded muggle street with one curse. Nothing was left of Pettigrew but a finger. Thirteen muggles were killed as well. Black massacred them. Then, he stood in the middle of the street laughing like a loon.

Everyone knows the story of the Boy Who Lived. Black was the Secret Keeper for Lily and James Potter. But Black was secretly working for He Who Must Not Be Named. He led You-Know-Who to the Potters and betrayed his best friends.

The Muggle Prime Minister has been notified as well and the muggle population has been told that Black has been carrying a gun (sort of like a metal wand that can cause death or severe injury and makes a loud bang when fired). All of the U.K. is looking for him. Black is armed and extremely dangerous. If anyone has seen him, please contact the Magical Law Enforcement immediately.

Harry put the paper down and looked up at his father. "I thought that Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper?"

James nodded. "He was, but no one else knew that. Sirius led Voldemort to Peter, who in his fear, gave away our spot and led Voldemort straight to us. If that wasn't bad enough, after Lily and I were presumed dead, he murdered Peter. He doesn't even know that Lily and I ... he thinks that we're both dead."