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Chapter 0. - Prologue.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling.

A/N: Hi, this is my first foray into, so please treat me well! And also, I have a banner for this story but for some reason the site won't allow me to upload it? If anybody has any ideas that could help me it'd be greatly appreciated. Thank you and I hope you enjoy the story!


"How did you get into my vault?" screamed Bellatrix Lestrange, spittle spattering across Hermione Granger's bloodied and bruised face as the woman raised her blackened wand again. "Did that dirty goblin in the cellar help you?" With a practised flick of Bellatrix's wrist, Hermione screamed once more. A dark colour bloomed across the younger woman's chest, hot to the touch and staining her shirt crimson. More pain ripped through Hermione's torso and despite the delirious agony she was in she couldn't help but muse that she bled red just as any other person, muggle or wizard did--they were all the same, really.

This was it, Hermione knew. 

Trapped inside the once proud Malfoy Manor, nobody from the still fighting and valiantly dying Order of the Phoenix knew Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were held prisoner there--nobody in Wizarding Britain knew that their "Chosen One", the one fated to save their magical world was trapped in a cellar with his ginger-haired best friend, screaming their other best friend's name. No person knew that just eighteen Hermione Jean Granger, the brightest witch of her generation, the girl who wished for House Elves to be free and the only known person to actually read Hogwarts: A History was being tortured by Death Eater elite Bellatrix Lestrange. Nobody knew that tonight would be the night that Hermione Granger would die.

"Tell me the truth now or I'll cut you again! I'll ask you one more time. How did you get into my vault!? Did that fucking goblin help you?"

"N-no!" sobbed Hermione, "We only m-met him today, we've never been inside your isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

Bellatrix's lips twisted into an angry snarl. "A likely story!" The Death Eater shrieked, "I've had enough of your lies, Mudblood scum! If we don't get the information from you we'll get it from that Blood Traitor Weasley yet! Besides, one less Mudblood in the world the better! Especially Potter's most precious one. Avada Kedavra!"

Brown eyes widened in surprise as the curse slammed forcefully into her chest.


"Sirius! Sirius if you walk out on me now there's no turning back! You are the heir to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black--you can't just leave!" Walburga Black screamed, her grey eyes wild as her sixteen year old son continued to hurl clothes into his Hogwarts trunk, ignoring his shrieking mother as he did so. "Don't you ignore me Sirius Orion Black!! DON'T YOU DARE!!"

Slamming his wardrobe closed with a sharp snap and completely uncaring when chunks of the antique wood went flying, Sirius swivelled around to face his mother and roared, "I'll do what I bloody well want woman, you can't tell me what to do anymore!" 


"Fuck you."

Sirius' face snapped harshly to the side when his mother's hand met his cheek. The older woman breathed deeply for a moment, staring into the slate grey eyes that were so similar to her own. "Get out."

Raising his knuckles to his face, Sirius smeared the blood that dribbled from his lips across his chin. He then smiled a macabre smile, his pearly white teeth stained red. "Oh but of course, mother dear. Shan't keep you standing here too long. Don't you worry your greying little head, I'm never coming back here again."

Quickly grabbing his oak and phoenix feather wand from his bedside desk as well as the leather jacket draped over the edge of his bed, Sirius calmly strode past his mother and into the hallway, grinning obscenely when his mother started to screech.

"Abomination! You are an abomination, shame of my flesh! Gallivanting around with filthy half breeds, blood traitors and children of filth--you are a stain on the name of Black! Traitor!"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't have to keep sayin' it," Sirius muttered as he walked down the stairs, rolling his eyes as his mother followed behind him, still shouting.

"Taint of shame on the house of my fathers! No child of mine--filth! Scum!"

Making his way down the stairs, Sirius passed by his family's house elf Kreacher and doing what he'd wanted to do for years, he laughed when he booted the elf in the behind. "I'm leaving, Pops!" He then shouted at his father who was probably in the Black Family Library researching more rubbish about wards--as if Grimmauld Place were not the most magically protected building outside Hogwarts anyway. "Never coming back either, so have as good a life as you can with Mother!"

Finally on ground level, Sirius' cocky grin turned beautific as he spotted the front door that marked the exit of his own personal prison. Turning on his heel, Sirius side-stepped the ugly troll leg umbrella stand and headed for the backyard. He had one last thing to take with him. Frowning slightly, Sirius ignored the ashen-faced appearance of his younger brother who stood in his way, blocking the entrance to the kitchen and still ignoring the screams of his mother, Sirius opened the old door that lead to the London streets (and his motorbike that he'd stored in the old horse stables outside) and didn't look back.


Gripping the handlebars of his beloved 1959 Triumph 650 in the stables outside his old ancestral home, Sirius began to push his heating motorcycle toward the edge of the wards while humming a tune from the popular muggle band The Sex Pistols whom he had seen play in a muggle club with his best mate Remus. The engine roaring to life as soon as Sirius breached his old home's wards, Sirius slid onto the back of his bike, revving it loudly in a final act of rebellion. Swiftly putting the bike in first gear, Sirius with a speed that to most would be suicidal let out a whooping yell as he teared down the cobbled road of Grimmauld Place, dark hair flowing behind him.


If Sirius' smile was wide before he left Number Twelve it was nothing compared to the smile he had on his face now--if Voldemort were to suddenly appear and kill him Sirius knew he would no doubt die happy.

He was free.

Finally free.

Sixteen years he'd spent trapped inside that godforsaken house, listening to his family go on and on about blood purity, going on about how Sirius was scum and how he being placed in Gryffindor was one of the darkest days in the Black Family's history. After so many years Sirius could only take so much. But Sirius was free now, and that's all that mattered. 

Taking a right onto another cobblestone road, Sirius near upended his bike when the body of a young woman appeared in a flash of Avada Kedavra green light on the street right in front of him, her body slamming harshly on the road. 

"Sweet Merlin..."

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