Harry Potter and the Secrets He's Kept by know_it_all_bookworm
Summary: Sequel to Harry Potter and the Secrets Revealed. Harry and friends have rewound time, and gone back to the end of Harry's second year. Harry must now try to change the future without making Dumbledore suspicious, and harder yet, without Voldemort finding out.
Rating: R
Categories: Alternate Universe
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2008.09.02
Updated: 2009.05.28
Index
Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Changing The Future
Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Step One - Revealing the Traitor
Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Changes
Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Home, Shopping, And Ginny
Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Shocks, And More Shopping
Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Life With The Marauders
Chapter 7: Chapter 7: The Explosion That Causes A Tidal Wave
Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Training Begins
Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Changing The Future
Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Harry Potter and the Secrets Revealed.
Harry slowly stood up, his body weakly shaking from the after-effects of nearly dying. He picked up the diary of Tom Riddle with his left hand, and his wand with his right. After pulling the sword from the mouth of the basilisk, he heard a moan. It was, he thought, the most beautiful sound in the world.
He ran across the chamber, and, dropping everything, collapsed on his knees beside the petite red-head. She was stirring now. He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders and gently lifted her so she was sitting with her right side braced against his chest.
Ginny looked around the room in a daze. She saw the dead snake, the phoenix, the bloody sword, and the burnt diary. She slowly looked up into Harry’s eyes, and blinked uncomprehendingly. “H-Harry?” she murmured as tears began to pour down her face. “I-I tried t-to tell you at breakfast…but…I just couldn’t s-say it in front of P-Percy…I did it, H-Harry, but I didn’t m-mean to…I c-could see and feel everything b-but I couldn’t make myself stop…it was R-Riddle…he was trying t-to take over my body…I swear I fought him…but w-were is he?”
Harry held her close and rubbed her back as she cried out a confession. “Riddle is gone, Ginny. He’s dead, and cannot harm you anymore. You were really brave and strong to be fighting him all year. I’m really proud of you, Gin.” He helped her stand up, and held her as she cried some more.
“Oh, Harry. I hurt people. I’m going to be expelled and taken to A-Azkaban…,” her voice failed her at this point.
Harry tilted her face up and said fiercely, “I won’t let them do that. If they try to expel you, then I’ll quit school, and we’ll learn on our own. If anyone dared try to take you to Azkaban, I would use every Knut of my parent’s money to keep you out. I promise.”
Ginny gave him a tiny smile, and for a brief moment hugged him. Just as they were letting go of each other…
WHAM!!
They both staggered slightly from the force of the magic. Then everything around them faded to black as they passed out.
Ten minutes later, Harry opened his eyes, and saw red and gold. He blinked, and the red and gold became a phoenix. Fawkes was standing by his head, and looking into his eyes. Harry slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, causing the envelope on his chest to fall.
A small moan came from beside him. Ginny slowly sat up as well; her letter falling into her lap. “Did you happen to catch the name of the hippogriff that trampled us?” she asked clutching her head.
“The name of the WHAT?” Harry asked.
“Hippogriff…it’s half bird, and half horse.”
Harry chuckled a little at her description, and then picked up his envelope. “That’s odd. This envelope has my name on it, but it looks like my handwriting.”
Ginny glanced at his and picked up her own. “Harry…this envelope is addressed to me, and it is DEFINITELY my handwriting.” She handed hers to Harry.
He looked them over, and cast a quick ‘Finite Incantatum’ on them, just in case. “I’ll open mine first, Ginny. That way if there is something wrong here, you can still get help.” He ripped open the seal. A newspaper clipping fell into his lap. He unfolded it, and read the article.
Ginny leaned into him to read it as well. “No-no, it couldn’t be…not Charlie and Dad…not Dumbledore.”
“There is definitely something strange going on here,” Harry said. He pulled out the second piece of paper, and read.
Harry,
This is a letter from your future self. Suffice it to say, the future is grim, which is why I rewound time. Nine friends rewound time with me. They are: Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna Lovegood, Fred, George, Remus Lupin (a friend of Dad’s), and Nymphadora Tonks (Never call her anything but “Tonks” unless you want to spend the rest of your life as a goat. She is also Remus’ future girlfriend.).
DON’T trust Dumbledore. He has good intentions but he really screwed up this time. Don’t eat or drink anything he gives you, or anything in the Great Hall unless you know it is safe as in my timeline he spiked your food with a love potion (I will not reveal why he did so; it was just a bad decision on his part).
Later today you will see Lucius Malfoy and Dobby. Dobby is to Malfoy what you are to the Dursleys. You’re going to free Dobby. When you do, bind him to you as your elf. Ask him to pretend to be a “free” elf, and have him ask Dumbledore for a job at Hogwarts. Dumbledore will agree and Dobby can guarantee that your food and drink are untainted.
Voldemort found you when you were a baby because Mum and Dad were betrayed by a friend. You were under the Fidelius Charm. That is when a secret is stored within a living soul. The Secret Keeper is the only one who could say what the secret is. Even if someone else knew it, they could tell no one. Everyone believed that Dad’s best friend, Sirius Black was the Secret Keeper. But Sirius believed that he was too obvious, and he should instead be a decoy for Voldemort to go after, thereby keeping the true Secret Keeper safe. The true Secret Keeper was, unfortunately, Voldemort’s spy. His name was Peter Pettigrew, and is an unregistered rat animagus. Everyone now believes that Sirius killed him during a confrontation the day after Voldemort disappeared. This is not true. Sirius did intend to murder the man who betrayed his best friend, but Pettigrew faked his death. He accused Sirius of betraying your parents, cut off a finger then blew a hole in the street and escaped into the sewers. He now lives as Scabbers.
Sirius is in Azkaban, the wizard prison, right now, and never got a trial. He is also your godfather; if he is freed, he will have the right to remove you from the Dursleys.
Tell Dumbledore your suspicions. Tell him that it’s a little odd that all that was left of Pettigrew was a finger, when in a normal explosion lots of body parts would be found. Then show him Scabbers’ missing toe. Tell him that after you saw McGonagall transform into a cat the first time, you researched animagi. The Ministry of Magic has a list of all known animagi. People are supposed to tell the Ministry when they begin the animagi process, but there is no way to be certain that everyone did. Pettigrew kept it a secret and that is why no one has suspected him before. Ask Dumbledore to perform the spell that forcibly returns an animagus to human form. This will not do anything to a real rat.
To make Dumbledore believe you about Scabbers, bring Fred, George and the ‘Marauders Map’ along (they have it and can tell you what it does). Incidentally, Dad is one of the creators of the map; he is Prongs.
Contact Remus Lupin (he rewound time with you), and show him this letter. He can help teach you defense. Also, ask Remus about the Marauders, specifically Dad.
Buy a wand holster, it could save your life; and never go anywhere without your wand.
No matter what you think, Snape is on your side. He was friends with Mum, and when he found out that Voldemort was going after us, he turned his back on the Death Eater life (DEs are Voldemort’s followers, and yes, he was once one). Ask him what Mum was like in school, and always show him respect. Study Potions as though your life depended on it, it will help earn his respect. If necessary, remind him that you are not Dad (ask Remus about this).
Get Percy to lighten up. And, if in your fourth year, Mad-Eye Moody comes to teach at Hogwarts, make sure that he didn’t attack his dustbins. If he did, then you need to show Dumbledore the ‘Marauders Map’, as his name will not show up on it. Suggest that the impersonator used Polyjuice. Be sure to find out IMMEDIATELY. It is life-and-death.
Watch out for Dolores Umbridge (she works at the Ministry of Magic). She is evil and will try to get you expelled. Check her left forearm for the Dark Mark (Voldemort’s sign). If you don’t get rid of her, chances are that she will try to interfere at Hogwarts, and cause a lot of problems for you.
Rita Skeeter, a reporter for the Daily Prophet, is an unregistered beetle animagus. Don’t turn her in, or even tell her that you know. Instead offer her a deal: she only writes the truth about you, and she will be the only reporter you ever talk to. Get her to investigate Fudge. He’s truly incompetent. See if you can’t replace him with someone like Madam Bones (Susan’s aunt).
The reason Voldemort went after you is this. There is a prophecy made about you, Voldie, and a girl: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark the him as his equal, But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...This Power shall be his love…She will be one of seven, yet the only one…Faithful when others doubt, Faithful when faith is torture…She shall be the only one to know his pain…Bound by their love, Their love will save all…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies. Mum and Dad defied Voldemort three times. You were born on July 31. He marked you with your scar. Your power is obviously a girl. You can figure out who she is for yourself. Also, the reason Voldemort is still alive is because he created several Horcruxes. The diary is one. When a person murders someone else, their soul splits, that piece can be captured in an object using a spell. That is a Horcrux. He probably has several, possibly six according to the Dumbledore of my time. They are probably valuable objects, as he wouldn’t want them to be accidentally destroyed.
You need to start learning about Voldemort’s life in order to know how to defeat him.
Start training! Remus can help, for that matter, so can Snape. Snape can teach you Occlumency and Legilimency, just be sure to remind him that you are not James Potter. If necessary, stick some memories of the Dursleys in a pensieve and shove his nose in it. Learn about the magical government, how to become an animagus, Apparate (even though it’s illegal until you are of age, it could save your life to be able to get out of somewhere fast), martial arts (see Tonks), fencing (ask Remus. With Gryffindor’s sword, as his heir you own it), and how to conjure a Patronus. When you train it is imperative that you train with the friends that I already mentioned. Also for third year, you must take Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Care of Magical Creatures.
Also, you have THREE vaults in Gringotts: your trust fund vault, the Potter Family vault, and Gryffindor’s vault. Go there this summer. Mum and Dad left a letter for you. Talk to Griphook about your properties, and your vaults.
Voldemort will try to use your scar connection as a way to trick you, or possess you. Don’t believe any visions that he sends you.
Voldemort wants to know the prophecy; so, go to the Ministry of Magic and get their copy of it, and smash it. It’s a fake anyway. Tell Dumbledore after it’s done so that he won’t needlessly send people to guard it.
Well, I guess that’s it.
Harry
PS. Get to know Ginny. She's really amazing.
“Okay…this letter is strange. Something about that prophecy sounds familiar. Hmm… ‘one of seven, yet the only one…Faithful when others doubt, Faithful when faith is torture…She shall be the only one to know his pain’. Erm…Ginny…I think you’re the girl in the prophecy,” Harry said.
“Why do you think that?”
Harry looked dazed, “Your parents have seven children, but you are the only girl. That’s the ‘one of seven, yet the only one’. ‘Faithful when others doubt, Faithful when faith is torture’ probably is because you trusted me to help you. And, I think that everything you went through fighting Tom is what the line ‘She shall be the only one to know his pain’ means.”
Ginny stared at him. “But it also says ‘Bound by their love, Their love will save all’. You don’t love me, Harry,” she finished rather glumly.
He turned to her in shock. “When did I ever say that I didn’t love you?”
“You didn’t have to say it, Harry. It’s kind of obvious.”
“Or maybe you just misinterpreted my reactions.”
“W-what do you mean?” she asked, hardly daring to hope.
Harry sighed, and took both of her hands in his. “Ginny, you have to understand, I didn’t exactly grow up in a caring environment. In fact,” he paused, steeling himself for her reaction, “It was the exact opposite. My family thinks I’m a freak because I can do magic. I didn’t even know my name until I went to school. They only ever called me ‘boy’ or ‘freak’. My cousin’s gang would beat up anyone who tried to be nice to me; and my aunt and uncle told the neighbors that I go to a school for ‘Incurably Criminal Boys’. I spent ten years of my life sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs. I was their gardener, maid, and punching bag. They told me that my parents were drunks who died in a car crash; and that I was lucky that they let me live there. I never knew what a real family was like until I met yours. I don’t know what love’s supposed to feel like, so I don’t know if I love you; but I do care about you…more than anyone else. You are the first person to care about me. You tried to protect me from Malfoy, and Tom Riddle. I just…I just think that out of all of the girls in the world, you are the only one I would want to fall in love with.” Harry was blushing brighter than any Weasley, but he refused to lower his eyes from her face.
“Oh…Oh, Harry,” she cried out, throwing herself into his arms. She buried her face into his neck, and cried. She briefly noted that he smelled like any other sweaty boy, but she wouldn’t give up this hug for anything. “I’ll do anything to keep you from having to go back there. You deserve so much better than that.”
Harry held her tightly to him as she cried. “You know, Ginny, I’ve only ever been hugged once before you. So…thanks.”
When Ginny had more control over her emotions, she opened her own letter. Her letter pretty much told her to refer to Harry’s; and it also contained a copy of the same newspaper article.
They both carefully folded their envelopes and placed them in their pockets. Harry picked up his wand, the sword, the diary, and the Sorting Hat; and they began to make their way out.
Two minutes later they heard the sound of moving rock.
Harry dashed forward calling out, “Ron! Ginny’s okay! I’ve got her!”
Ron stuck his head through the opening and called out, “Ginny!”
Harry lifted Ginny up by her legs, and Ron pulled her through the hole, saying, “You’re alive! I don’t believe it! What happened?”
Fawkes flew through the hole before Harry clamored up to slide through himself. Then said, “We’ll explain everything later…oh…you’ve got a letter too.” He noticed the envelope sticking out of Ron’s robes.
“Erm, yeah…funny that…I sort of passed out for no reason, and when I came to, this was on my chest,” Ron said, scratching his head in confusion.
“Ginny and I each have one. You should wait to open yours until we’ve shown you ours.”
“Yeah…let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.” Ron shuddered.
Harry grabbed half of Fawkes tail, and had Ginny stand on his feet with her arms around his neck. Lockhart grabbed the other half of the tail, and Ron hung onto his back. Fawkes took off up the tunnel and back into Myrtle’s bathroom. They stood up, and as the sink moved back over the tunnel, they left the room. Fawkes led them through the castle, to Professor McGonagall’s office. Harry knocked, and pushed the door open.
“Ginny!” Mr. and Mrs. Weasley cried out in surprise.
Harry only then realized that his arm was still wrapped around Ginny, and Ron was giving him a funny look. He quickly dropped his arm, blushing, and noticed that Professor Dumbledore looked very displeased for some reason.
As soon as Molly released Ginny, she wrapped Harry and Ron into her arms. “You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?”
“I think we’d all like to know that,” Professor McGonagall said weakly.
So, Harry explained everything that occurred in the Chamber, though he did leave out the part about the letters, and his feelings for Ginny. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left immediately after he explained it, in order to take Ginny to the Hospital Wing. Ron followed behind them guiding Lockhart.
Professor Dumbledore made up an excuse to get Professor McGonagall out of the office before interrogating Harry.
Somehow, Harry managed to make it through the talk with Dumbledore none the wiser about the letters. As Harry was heading to the door to leave, Lucius Malfoy entered closely followed by none other than Dobby. It was exactly as his letter predicted.
Dobby kept pointing at the diary, then at Lucius before hitting himself on the head. Harry quickly realized what the little elf meant, and nodded at him. As Lucius left, Harry asked Dumbledore for the diary. He quickly left the office, removed one of his socks, and stuffed the diary inside it. He caught up to Mr. Malfoy in the entrance hall, and said, “Mr. Malfoy, I’ve got something for you.” He stuffed the sock into Malfoy’s hand.
“What the…?” he muttered. Lucius removed the sock and threw it away, and gazed at the diary. He was furious.
He lunged at Harry, but Dobby, who had caught the sock, said, “You will not harm Harry Potter.”
BANG!!
Mr. Malfoy flew across the room. “Why you little…you’ll be ironing your hands for the rest of the year for that!” he yelled at Dobby.
“Dobby is free! Master gave him a sock, so he is free,” Dobby said.
Lucius glared at the grinning Harry, then turned and stormed out of the castle.
“Dobby will do anything for the great Harry Potter. He has only to ask it,” Dobby said, looking at Harry with adoring eyes.
“Would you like to work for me, Dobby?” Harry asked, remembering the letter.
“Dobby is honored, and binds himself to work for Master Harry and his heirs. What shall Dobby do first?” he asked.
Harry leaned down and whispered to the little elf. “I would like for you to pretend to Dumbledore that you are a free elf and ask for work. He’ll probably give you a job here. I want you to do whatever he says, unless it goes against what I tell you. I need you to make sure that whatever I eat or drink here hasn’t been tampered with. But you have to do it in a way that no one will notice anything out of the ordinary. Can you do that, please?”
“Dobby will do it for Master Harry.”
“Good. Now I’m going to be paying you five Galleons a month…”
“No, no, sir. Dobby is not wanting any pay,” the elf protested.
Harry sighed. “Dobby, I want to pay you. It isn’t right for you to work for nothing. And you certainly can’t go around wearing a ratty old pillowcase. As I can’t give you clothes, I’m going to have to give you money, so you can buy them for yourself. See.”
Dobby’s eyes filled with tears. “Dobby is honored by the great Harry Potter’s goodness. Dobby will accept one Galleon a month.”
“Fine, but only if you take the weekends off.”
“No. Dobby will only take one Sunday off in a month. You is offering too much,” Dobby said firmly.
Harry decided that he would have to resign himself to that.
After Dobby Disapparated, Harry joined everyone in the Great Hall for a feast that Dumbledore had mentioned in McGonagall’s office.
Harry sat down between Ginny and Ron, and leaned across the table to whisper to the twins. Fred and George had both received and read their letters, and were quite willing to follow Harry’s lead about the situation.
Halfway through dinner, those who were petrified came in to much applause.
Hermione ran to embrace Harry and Ron, before plopping onto the bench on Ron’s other side. She had not read her letter yet, and agreed to wait to do it. Thankfully she had not blacked out like the others. Apparently being petrified negated that side affect.
Later that evening, when everyone else in Gryffindor tower had gone to bed, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Fred, and George sat around the fire in the common room. They were waiting for Ginny and Harry to return from Ravenclaw tower with Luna. Ginny had told Luna to wait up after dinner so that she could join them in their discussion.
Ron had just said, “So…when do you think they’ll be back?” when the portrait opened and shut, seemingly on its own.
Harry whipped of the cloak, revealing himself and the two girls. “Hey…sorry it took so long…we ran into Mrs. Norris on the fourth floor.”
After everyone had greeted each other, they all turned expectantly towards Harry.
Harry sighed and said, “Okay…so, whoever has read their letter, please raise your hand.”
Fred, George, Neville, Ginny and Luna raised their hands.
“Okay, Luna first…what is your opinion?” Harry asked.
Luna smiled vaguely at him and said, “The snorkacks should not mate during the winter.”
“Erm…I meant, about the letter.”
“Oh, well mine was definitely written by me. I think that if our future selves were so desperate that they rewound time, then we should definitely take whatever advice they give us,” the blonde said, her voice sounding dreamy.
“Twins?” Harry asked.
“We haven’t really decided…”
“…We figured, that whatever Harry decided…”
“…is what we would do.”
“Thanks for your faith in me. Neville?” he asked.
Neville looked timid, “My future self told me that Gran would die fighting Death Eaters; and to change it, I would have to have confidence in myself, and trust you, Harry.”
“Ginny?” Harry asked for everyone else’s benefit.
“I agree with Luna. We need to change this. I’ll follow Harry, whatever he decides,” she said confidently.
“Ron…Hermione…why don't you read Ginny's and my letters now. Then while you're reading your own, everyone else can read ours.”
“We’ll let everyone read ours as well,” the twins said together.
Neville and Luna looked at each other for a moment, and said, “So will we.”
While everyone was reading the letters, Harry kept getting distracted by the firelight dancing on Ginny’s hair. ‘Beautiful,’ he thought.
Unbeknownst to him, Fred and George noticed his glances, and determined to have a little chat with him before going to bed.
When everyone had finished reading the letters, Harry asked, “Hermione, what’s your opinion?”
“Well…while it does seem odd and more than a little suspect…I believe it. Mine said something that only I would know. I’ll follow your lead, Harry,” she said, glancing around the circle of friends.
“Ron?”
“Erm…Yeah…What Hermione said,” he muttered.
“Right then,” Harry said. “Fred, George, you guys need to get to work on those products that were mentioned in your letters. I’ll fund everything.”
Fred and George opened their mouths to protest.
“No, guys, I’m serious here. The more funds you have to work with, the quicker you can get the supplies you need, and the sooner these products are ready.”
The pair nodded.
“Neville, I’m going to find a place to stay that isn’t the Dursleys’, and when I do, we’ll talk your grandmother into letting you come spend the summer with me. We’ll be training. Hermione, I need you to start researching any spells that could be used in battle. Ron, start studying war strategies. Luna, you’ll be in charge of finding out about this Umbridge person. Let’s see if we can dig up some dirt on her. I’ll start researching the Dark Arts. We need to know what we’re going up against. Tomorrow, we bring the rat to Dumbledore. That means that after breakfast Ron, Fred, George, Ginny and I will go to the Headmaster. I’ll be writing to this Remus Lupin person, and finding out what he knows. He’ll be able to tell us about this Tonks woman. Is everyone in agreement on this?”
Everyone nodded their heads or said yeah, or yes…well…except for Fred and George, they saluted Harry and said, “Aye, Aye, Captain.”
After Harry and Ginny got back from returning Luna to Ravenclaw Tower, they were surprised to find the twins still up.
"Ginny, you can go to bed," one said.
"Yeah, we need to have a chat with lover-boy here."
Ginny opened her mouth to yell at them, but before she could Harry said, "Alright boys. Meet you down here at eight for breakfast, Ginny?"
"Alright. Night boys, just remember that if you hurt Harry, I can and will curse you so badly that Dumbledore won't be able to lift it."
The twins paled and, in shaky voices, said, "Night Ginny."
After she was out of sight, Fred began the conversation. "So, Harry. We noticed that you kept getting distracted earlier by our sister."
Harry blushed and muttered, "So what...she's pretty."
The twins both raised their eyebrows.
"If you hurt our sister, we will hurt you just as bad. Each of us will. So that means you'll be hurting six times what Ginny is. Savvy?" George said.
"Look guys," Harry looked annoyed. "I would never knowingly do anything to hurt anyone in your family...especially Ginny. And if I hurt her, I can guarantee that whatever you do to me won't be anywhere near as bad as what she does. And that's not mentioning what I'll be doing to myself for being such an idiot."
"That works for us," they said as one.
- - -
Mr. Lupin,
I recently received a strange letter. It was written (supposedly) by my future self. It said that I and nine friends, you included, rewound time. In my letter, I was told to get in touch with you.
It also said that you were a friend of my father’s. If that’s true, then why did you never contact me, or visit? I would really like to meet you. If possible could you meet me during the summer at the small park in Little Whinging, Surrey? I’ll tell my owl, Hedwig, to wait for a response from you.
Thanks.
Harry Potter
PS. Please don’t tell Dumbledore anything about the letters, or rewinding time. Thanks.
- - -
The day after the feast, Harry walked down to his Transfiguration classroom. He had to talk to his Head of House.
He knocked on her office door, and entered when he heard a brusque, “Enter”.
“Professor McGonagall, I was wondering if I could talk to you about my electives for next year?” he asked nervously.
“Of course, Mr. Potter, please sit down,” she indicated the armchair in front of her desk.
“Ma’am, I’ve recently gotten some advice about which courses I should take. I think that I’d like to take Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes instead of Divination.” Harry stifled the urge to fidget under his professor’s stare.
“What exactly made you change your mind?”
“Erm...I just got some advice about it. I found out that some jobs, like curse-breaking, require those two courses. Also, I really don’t see myself predicting the future as a career. To be honest, now that I think on it, Divination seems to be more of a ‘either you’re born with it, or you’re not’ subject.”
“I see…I do see your reasons for the request, and as you clearly have thought this through…I see no reason why you can’t change your electives. However, I will not change them for you again. Do you understand?” she gazed down at the boy, who, in only two years, had awakened her long-dormant maternal instincts.
“Yes, Professor, thank you,” he said, leaping up from his chair in his excitement. “Goodbye, Professor.” He dashed out the door, to meet with Ron in their dormitory.
Minerva McGonagall shook her head slightly, smiling at the door he had just exited. She had always been fond of James and Lily, but their son she loved. He had all of the best qualities of both of them: his father’s loyalty to his friends, and his mother’s caring heart.
- - -
Remus Lupin had just returned from his job at the local Muggle bookstore. Muggles were far more accommodating when it came to his illness. Of course, they didn’t know that he was a werewolf. He had told them he had family plans during the full moons.
He dropped his mail on the card table he used for meals, and walked into the tiny kitchenette. He pulled open a cabinet and muttered, “Hmm, let’s see…I could have pasta…or pasta. Pasta it is.”
He started the water, and walked into his living room and dropped onto his worn out couch.
It was a good thing he was laying down, because a moment later…
WHAM!!
The magic washed over him, and he faded into unconsciousness.
He slowly came to, and as soon as he was able, hurried to check on the water. He didn’t notice the envelope that fell onto the floor.
After eating his dinner, he grabbed his latest Defense Against the Dark Arts book, not Lockhart’s. Thankfully, he had only ever wasted money on one Lockhart book. The moron had clearly never met an actual werewolf during the full moon. He was a complete fraud.
Remus was about to sit down on the couch again when he noticed the envelope. He picked it up and opened it. He pulled out the parchment, and, gasped in shock at the signature. It was his.
After reading the letter, he was convinced that he was either dreaming, or someone was trying to prank him. But, out of the only three people who would do that to him, two were dead and one was in Azkaban.
He decided to sleep on it, and determine what to do in the morning.
The next morning he fixed himself some coffee, and sat down to re-read the letter.
Nope, it still didn’t make any sense to him.
Tap, tap, tap…
He looked up and saw a beautiful white owl tapping on his kitchen window. He opened the window and watched the owl swoop in and land on the back of his folding chair.
A letter was tied to her leg, and, when he approached her, she stuck out the leg it was on. He untied the letter and fed her an owl treat. He lightly scratched the back of her neck, and she looked at him with adoration. He knew how to treat an owl.
He sat down and opened his letter. Harry wrote him?! He could hardly believe it, but he knew that it had to have been from him.
Remus had seen Hagrid the year before. The half-giant wanted some photos of Harry’s parents to give him as a gift. The he had sung Harry’s praises. Hagrid had also mentioned Harry’s reaction to his birthday present of a snowy owl…the very owl that was now preening herself.
“So, you’re Hedwig.”
She stopped preening and looked at him.
“I suppose I should write a response.”
Hedwig blinked.
“I haven’t got an excuse for never contacting him. I mean, Dumbledore told me not to, but I should have anyway. Right?”
She hooted softly.
A few minutes later, he had finished. “Here, girl…take this to Harry,” he said, feeding her one last owl treat, and tying the letter to her leg.
- - -
Harry and Ron had already captured Scabbers in a cage, and were now in the common room planning the story that they’d tell Dumbledore.
“Ooh, what a pretty owl,” Parvati said, pointing at the window.
Harry looked up and saw Hedwig. He hurried to the window to let her in.
After untying the letter, he fed her an owl treat. Hedwig lightly nipped his finger, and swooped back out the window.
Harry opened the letter, ignoring the pre-teen girls that were now trying to flirt with him. He began reading, and was half-way through it when the portrait opened. Ginny and Hermione were back from the library.
“Ginny, Hermione…Hedwig came back with a response,” Harry called out.
Parvati and Lavender cast jealous looks at the girls.
They went over to sit in front of the fireplace. Ginny sitting on the arm of Harry’s chair, and Hermione sharing the couch with Ron.
Harry quietly read the letter to his friends.
Dear Harry,
I’m sorry for never coming to see you. There’s no excuse for that. Dumbledore told me not to, but I shouldn’t have listened to him.
I too received a letter from myself, and look forward to discussing this with you.
I will meet you at the park on June 25th. I believe that will be two days after you arrive home from Hogwarts.
Remus
PS. I doubt you remember this, but you used to call me Uncle Moony.
"Well, that's interesting," Harry muttered.
Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Step One - Revealing the Traitor
Harry and the Weasleys, minus Percy, walked up to the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore’s office only to realize that they didn’t have the password.Harry looked at the gargoyle and asked the twins, “Guys, I know that you can talk to paintings but what about statues, can you talk to them?”
“Well, if they understand passwords, then they might understand other things as well,” Fred muttered, looking thoughtful.
Harry stared at the statue for a minute, and hoped that he wasn’t going to embarrass himself. “Erm, we really need to talk to Professor Dumbledore. It’s an emergency.”
The gargoyle nodded once and stepped aside for them.
They crowded onto the moving staircase, and before Harry could knock on the door at the top, Dumbledore said, “Enter.”
Harry pushed open the door, and his friends followed him into the room.
Fawkes left his perch and with a soft whoosh landed on Harry’s right shoulder.
“Hello, Fawkes,” Harry said, rubbing the phoenix’s chest and neck.
“What brings you five to my office on this fine day,” Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling in an all-knowing sort of way.
“Sir, I have some serious concerns about what happened the day after my parents died.”
Whatever Dumbledore had expected, it wasn’t that. “What exactly did you have concerns about?”
“Well,” Harry began somewhat nervously, “Hermione did some reading about what happened that night, and she found out that my parents placed a Fidelius Charm on the house. According to her research, the Secret Keeper was Sirius Black. She also found out that he was captured the next day after killing one of my parents’ friends, and a bunch of other people.”
Scabbers began to furiously claw at the cage door, trying to open it.
Harry continued, “The man he supposedly killed was Peter Pettigrew…”
Dumbledore interrupted here. “What do you mean supposedly? They found…” He was interrupted.
“A finger,” Harry said, “and nothing else. But if Sirius Black had caused the explosion killing Pettigrew, there would have been, well, chunks of him all over the place, not just a finger.”
Dumbledore’s eyes widened at the implications.
“We,” he indicated the Weasleys, “all have formulated a pretty good idea of what happened. Hand me the map.” He said the last to Fred.
Harry tapped the parchment with his wand saying, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” Scabbers was panicking even more now.
“If you see here,” Harry brought the map to the Headmaster, “This dot in your office is labeled…”
“Peter Pettigrew,” the Headmaster finished. “But that is impossible. I can see through invisibility cloaks and charms.”
“But that’s just it.” Harry said beaming, “It’s ingenious really. No one can tell a real animal from an animagus in animal form. And if you’d just framed someone for your murder, you’d want to be somewhere you could get news about what happened to him, like if he ever escaped.”
Dumbledore’s eyes landed on the rat. “Really, Harry, that is all very interesting, but it is quite impossible. Why would Pettigrew fake his own death?”
Harry grinned. “Who is the person that I would most likely choose as my Secret Keeper if I went into hiding?”
“Miss Granger, as she is the more stable of your best friends.”
“It’s perfect, too perfect. Voldemort would know who my best friends are, and who I would most likely choose. So I would choose a less obvious choice, and Hermione would be a decoy. I would choose Neville,” Harry said. “He’s got a reputation of not being the most powerful wizard, and a little slow to catch on in class.”
“I see what you’re saying, but why wouldn’t this have come to light before?” Dumbledore said, still condescendingly, eyes twinkling madly.
“Because Sirius Black never got a trial with Veritaserum, as was his right. He was just chucked into Azkaban without a second thought because everyone ‘knew’ he was the Secret Keeper.”
“So you are saying that your friend’s rat is really the animagus form of Peter Pettigrew, who was not only your parents’ Secret Keeper, but framed someone else for their murder and his own.”
Harry exchanged looks with his friends. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“And I suppose that you want me to try to reverse the animagus process on the spell.”
Dumbledore pulled out his wand and began to say the spell without waiting for an answer.
“Wait!” Harry snapped.
“What?” Dumbledore asked innocently.
“It means nothing unless Madam Bones the head of Magical Law Enforcement is here, preferably with a couple of Aurors,” Harry said.
Dumbledore frowned. Harry was not the naïve boy he had been a few weeks before. Perhaps the horcrux, because that’s what the diary was, had possessed Harry instead of dying.
“Very well,” Dumbledore said, pasting a smile on his face. He threw some floo powder into the fireplace and stuck his head in, calling out, “Ministry of Magic, Magical Law Enforcement Office.”
A minute later, he pulled his head out and stepped back.
The fire flared green again, and a tall stern looking woman with a monocle stepped through. She was closely followed by a scarred man, with a fake eye that rolled around in his head, and by a tall broad-shouldered black man with an African accent.
“You said that you may have caught a murderer and unregistered animagus?” she said to Dumbledore.
“Actually,” Ginny said, “Harry caught him.”
So Harry explained to the Aurors and their boss about what he suspected, and even showed them the map.
Madam Bones said, “Wands at the ready, boys,” to the Aurors, and she enlarged the cage, and the older Auror cast the animagus reversing spell at the same time.
As the cage grew, so did the man. As soon as he stopped transforming, the second Auror hit him with a magic binding spell, preventing him from transforming again.
Madam Bones stared in shock at the man. “Floo Cornelius, Dumbledore.”
A minute later the pompous Minister of Magic stepped through the fireplace. “What is the meaning of this Dumbledore? I was in the middle of something!” he snapped.
“Oh, we are quite well aware of what, or rather who you were doing,” Madam Bones said, smirking as Fudge paled. “We seem to have caught ourselves a rat, and you need to be here for his questioning under Veritaserum.”
The black man pulled a bottle of clear liquid out of his pocket and handed it to Madam Bones, who looked at it with the Minister and Dumbledore.
“That seems to be in order, Kingsley, please give the prisoner three drops,” she said.
Kingsley did so, and they waited until the prisoner’s eyes went blank of emotion.
“What is your full name?” she asked.
“Peter Borachio Pettigrew.”
“Why did you fake your death?”
“Because my fellow Death Eaters wanted to kill me.”
“Why would they want to do that?”
“Because they blamed me for the fall of the Dark Lord.”
“Why did they blame you?”
“Because I told him where he could find the Potters.”
“Were you the Potters’ Secret Keeper?”
“Yes. Sirius Black felt he was the obvious choice, and by switching to me he could be a decoy.”
“What else did you do for Voldemort?”
“I spied on Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, a group that fought the Dark Lord.”
“Do you know of any other Death Eaters who were not captured?”
“Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Walden Macnair, Vincent Crabbe Sr., Gregory Goyle Sr., Aloysius Parkinson, Dolores Umbridge, and Jacob Flint.”
Madam Bones turned and glared at the Minister of Magic.
“Do you know how they escaped prosecution?” she asked.
“They bribed Cornelius Fudge.”
Fudge winced.
“Arrest him,” Madam Bones told Moody. “Let’s take them both down to the Ministry and arrest those other Death Eaters.” She turned to Dumbledore. “An emergency session of the Wizengamot will start in an hour.”
“I will be there.”
“And bring these kids, and the other one they mentioned: Miss Granger,” she ordered.
“Percy should be there as well,” Ron said. “He’s my older brother, and he had the rat before me. My parents should probably be there as well.”
“I’ll see to it that your parents are there, Mr. Weasley. Bring the other boy, as well,” she said before stepping through the floo.
Dumbledore sighed. This is not going according to plan. He threw some floo powder into the fireplace. “Transfiguration Office.”
Within twenty minutes, Hermione and Percy were in the Headmaster’s office with the others. Professor McGonagall had explained the situation to them, and while Hermione was somewhat expecting it, Percy was not. He was currently sitting in a chair with a vacant expression on his face.
- - -
Dumbledore led the students to the lift in the atrium after submitting to wand registration, where the man at the desk, Eric Munch wrote down the information about each wand as it was weighed.
When Eric handed Harry his wand back, he also slipped him a note without anyone else noticing.
Harry calmly slipped the paper into his pocket along with his wand.
The group took the lift down to level nine, and took the stairs down to courtroom ten on level ten. Harry personally thought that this was rather funny, as they didn’t have courtrooms one through nine at all.
They entered the large square room, and Dumbledore ushered them into the front row, directly opposite the seats for Wizengamot members.
“Now, I will be presiding over the trial, so I’ll be leaving you here. Your parents should be here soon,” he said to the Weasley children.
Harry looked around the room as Dumbledore left. There was one other man in it. He was somewhat scarred, but looked like a Muggle Professor in a university. Granted, his suit was quite shabby, but he had an air of quiet intelligence about him.
Harry’s musings were interrupted when, not five minutes later, the doors opened to reveal Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
“Mum,” Ginny cried out, and threw herself into her mother’s arms.
“Oh, Ginny, how are you doing? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mum. Harry and I have been talking about what happened and that makes it a lot easier to deal with,” Ginny explained.
The entire Weasley family and Hermione stared at Harry, who blushed bright red.
“Thank you, dear,” Molly said, hugging him tightly.
“Don’t be thanking me. Ginny’s my friend, and that’s what friends do. Besides, it helps me just as much as it helps her,” Harry explained, staring at the ground where he was scuffing his shoe.
Molly and Arthur exchanged looks of confusion, but did not comment. After everyone had been hugged, they all sat down. Arthur sat down at the end of the aisle, next Molly who had Ginny on her other side. The twins were next followed by Percy, Hermione, Ron, and lastly Harry.
Because of this, Harry didn’t hear Molly ask Ginny what Harry had meant when he said it helped him too.
“Oh, Mum, it’s terrible. He told me about the Muggles he lives with. They hit him, and call him a freak, Mum. It’s just not right,” Ginny whispered.
For the first time, Molly considered that maybe Ron, Fred and George weren’t exaggerating when they said that Harry had been locked in his room with a flap in the door for his relatives to give him food. In fact, now that she thought about it, he always was wearing clothes that were worn out and at least twice as large as he needed. And he was skin and bones when she hugged him after he arrived at the Burrow. He hadn’t been nearly that skinny at the beginning of the summer at Kings Cross.
She blinked back tears. 'How could she have missed the signs? How could Dumbledore? Or Madam Pomfrey?'
The Wizengamot entered and took their seats, and Pettigrew was escorted in by Auror Shacklebolt and another Auror.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Are you ready?” he asked the witch who sat with a quill poised of a sheet of parchment.
“Yes, sir,” she answered softly.
“We are here for the trial of Peter Borachio Pettigrew on May 31, 1993,” Dumbledore stated in a voice that rang with power, “who is charged with the crimes of being a Death Eater, betraying the Potter family to Voldemort…”
Nearly everyone winced except for Harry, Ginny, Dumbledore himself, and Madam Bones.
“…resulting in the deaths of Lily and James Potter and the attempted murder of Harry Potter, the deaths of thirteen Muggles, the injuries of twelve Muggles, faking his own death in order to avoid prosecution, and framing another wizard for all of it. Interrogators: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot; Rufus Alan Scrimgeour, Interim Minister of Magic; and Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Court Scribe: Elizabeth Ann Perkins.”
“Are there any witnesses for the defense?” Dumbledore asked.
No one said anything.
“Very well then,” Dumbledore waved Mad-Eye Moody over, “Auror Moody, please administer the Veritaserum.”
“Gladly,” Moody responded, a scary looking smirk on his heavily scarred face.
When Pettigrew’s eyes had glazed over, Dumbledore began the questioning. He used the same questions Madam Bones had during the questioning in his office, so nothing new came to light.
After they were through with the questioning, Madam Bones said, “Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?”
Not a single member of the Wizengamot responded.
“And those in favor of conviction?”
Every member raised their hands.
“By unanimous agreement, we the members of the Wizengamot find that the accused is guilty as charged,” Dumbledore said in a clear ringing voice. “According to our laws, Peter Pettigrew is hereby sentenced to the Dementor’s kiss. Auror Shacklebolt, please gather your team of Aurors to escort the Dementor.”
As Kingsley left the room to get his team members, Dumbledore spoke to Harry.
“Mr. Potter, as a victim of Mr. Pettigrew’s, do you have anything you wish to say to him?”
Harry stared at the short rat-like man. “Yes, Sir, I do.” Like Dumbledore, his voice rang out clear and strong. “May I face him?”
“Of course.”
Harry stood up and walked past the Weasleys and down the steps to the main floor. He turned and faced the petrified man.
“Pettigrew,” he began, “You were once a member of a group of friends that I understand to have been just as close as I am to Ron and Hermione. You betrayed them all. You betrayed my parents to Voldemort, leaving me without a family. You betrayed another friend by blaming him for your crimes. And you betrayed your fourth friend by robbing him of his best friends. I would die for my friends, and they would do the same for me. I cannot comprehend how anyone could betray those they call friends.” Harry glared at the man. “Yet you have done so. In my mind, you, Pettigrew, are just as bad as Voldemort…no…you are worse!”
Pettigrew flinched.
“Voldemort is clear about those he wishes to kill. You are worse because you betrayed those who trusted you. I hope that whatever happens to your soul once you are kissed hurts you every bit as much as the things that you did hurt me, my parents, and everyone else hurt by your actions!” Harry finished, his eyes sparkling with conviction and righteous anger.
He then returned to his seat.
Dumbledore for a brief moment looked gobsmacked. “Mr. Lupin, do you have anything you would like to say?”
The shabby looking man stood up and said, “Just one thing, Sir.” He did the same thing Harry did and faced Pettigrew.
“Harry pretty much said everything that I feel, so this will be shorter than I had expected.” He glanced quickly at Harry, and nodded. “Pettigrew, you traitorous rat, I would have liked the privilege of doing away with you myself, but once I thought about it I realized that I don’t want to dirty my soul by murdering you. You aren’t worth it; you aren’t worth anything.”
Kingsley reentered the room with his team as Remus sat back down.
“Professor Dumbledore!”
“Yes, Kingsley,” the Professor said, his eyes twinkling madly.
“Auror Dawlish brought Sirius Black here, as per Madam Bone’s request, and a Dementor nearly kissed him…Black that is!”
Lupin looked as though he wanted to jump out of his seat and was barely restraining himself.
“Someone ordered it,” Kingsley finished.
“Bring in Mr. Black,” Professor Dumbledore said, ignoring what Kingsley said for the time being.
“Yes, Sir.”
A minute later, a starved looking man entered in shackles. His hair hung to his waist and was very matted and dirty. He looked as though he hadn’t slept or bathed since he was first incarcerated.
“So, did you finally decide to give me a trial?” he asked sarcastically, glaring at Dumbledore.
“There is no need, as the real criminal has been caught.” Dumbledore indicated the chained Pettigrew.
Black noticed Pettigrew for the first time and began to smile. “Then you wouldn’t mind removing these chains, now would you?”
Moody flicked his wand, and the chains fell off of Black.
He sighed gratefully and rubbed his wrists.
“Do you have anything you would like to say to Mr. Pettigrew before he is kissed?”
Black’s eyes widened. “I sure as hell do!”
He walked over to face the rat. “Rot in hell, you bastard!” He took two steps forward and punched Pettigrew.
He shook his hair out of his face and said, “I’ve been wanting to do that for eleven years.”
“So how did it feel?” Remus asked loudly.
“Bloody brilliant!” And with that, the two men were friends again. They didn’t need to talk about it, or apologize for anything; friends such as they didn’t need words, they just knew that the air between them was clear.
“Auror Shacklebolt.”
“Yes.”
“You may escort the Dementor in.”
The Auror nodded and left the room.
A minute later the room grew cold and everyone began to feel depressed, as a black hooded figure was escorted in surrounded by ghostly, glowing white animals. It swept over to Pettigrew and leaned forward, lowering its hood. A small whitish-grey light floated out of his mouth and into the Dementor’s.
They quickly escorted the creature out and the room returned to normal. The two remaining Aurors picked up Pettigrew by the arms, and escorted the shell of a man out of the room.
“Mr. Black,” Interim Minister Scrimgeour began, “Your record has been cleared of all charges, and a sum of one million Galleons has been deposited in your account at Gringotts in compensation for the defamation of your character and for the years of your life that you were wrongfully imprisoned.”
“I don’t think you could ever compensate me enough for that,” Black said calmly.
“Yes…well…” Scrimgeour stammered. “The Ministry would be happy to do anything in its power to express our deepest remorse in this matter.”
“Really…” Black drawled. “How nice…” He smiled and then said, “Perhaps we could discuss this another time. I am in need of a Healer right now.” He began to violently cough, proving his point. Then he said, voice rasping, “I believe I will be in St. Mungos for the time being.”
He hadn’t noticed Harry during this time, which, Harry felt, was forgivable given the circumstances.
Headmaster Dumbledore spent another hour talking to the Minister and Madam Bones about the other trials which were to be held later that week.
At last, he was finished, and was able to escort the students back to the school.
- - -
Harry sighed as he packed his trunk. 'Another year gone, and now I get to go back to the Dursleys’. Yahoo,' he thought sarcastically.
He tossed some of Dudley’s old shirts into his trunk, and followed it up by throwing in a few of Uncle Vernon’s old socks. He had already placed his books in the bottom of his trunk, barring Lockhart’s that is.
Lockhart’s books were donated to the 'Great Gryffindor Bonfire of 1993'. They used the fire to roast marshmallows and cheese and anything else they could think of. Dobby was more than happy to bring them food from the kitchens.
Fred and George had collected a butterbeer fund and, using the ‘Marauders Map’ for the last time, snuck to Hogsmeade.
After the bonfire, they approached Harry.
“Harry,” Fred began.
“Yes…twin,” he replied, not sure which one he was talking to.
George exchanged a look with Fred.
“We’ve had two years with the map…”
“…and memorized it,” Fred continued.
“So we decided that it was time it was passed on to the Marauders’ heir.”
With that, they handed the map over.
“Guys, are you sure? I mean, you’re the ones that found it and figured out how to activate it.”
“We’re sure,” they said together.
Harry smiled in remembrance.
'Yes,' Harry thought to himself, tossing another homework scroll into his trunk, 'that bonfire will be a Hogwarts’ legend.'
Suffice it to say, that thanks to Hermione’s silencing charms, no one found out about the party.
Hermione would not normally have broken rules but, as she said, “If a war is going to be happening within a few years, then we’d better store up on all the good times that we can.”
'Yes, that was the best use of Lockhart’s books. Well worth the galleons spent on them.'
Harry began to fold his school robes. He didn’t care about the clothes from the Dursleys getting wrinkled, but he took pride in his Hogwarts uniform.
He smiled to himself as he folded the invisibility cloak. 'I must remember to talk to Mr. Lupin about my wand, he thought to himself, remembering the note that Eric Munch had slipped him at the Ministry of Magic.'
It said, 'Your wand has about twelve different charms on it. They are for tracking you, and monitoring what spells you use, and at what power level you use. I suggest that you get someone you trust to remove them.'
Harry strongly suspected the Headmaster of placing the charms on it, and so decided to go to someone else to get them taken off.
'It is sad,' he thought, 'that the very adults that I should be able to trust, I can’t. I mean between Dumbledore’s manipulations, the Dursleys’ abuse, and Professor McGonagall not believing me about the Stone, it’s ridiculous. I can’t even trust Madam Pomfrey,' he thought bitterly, 'She’s supposed to protect kids from abuse, but doesn’t. Like my third grade teacher.'
He winced at the bitter memory.
Flashback
“Mr. Wilson,” a tiny Harry asked. He was eight, but he looked five.
“Yes, Harry,” the grey haired, kind looking teacher asked.
Harry fidgeted nervously. “The TV said that if a kid gets hit a lot by someone, then he should tell a trustworthy person like a teacher or policeman.”
“Does someone hit you, Harry?” Mr. Wilson asked, sounding concerned.
“My Uncle does… lots,” Harry muttered. “And my aunt tried to hit me with a hot frying pan once, but I ducked and ran outside. They — ” he took a deep breath, “they lock me in the cupboard under the stairs.”
When Mr. Wilson’s eyes widened, Harry explained further, and in a whisper, “It’s my room. And sometimes, when I get in trouble, they’ll keep me locked up for days without food.”
Later that day, the Dursleys were called in for a parent teacher conference. They took Dudley and Harry with them because Mrs. Figg was visiting her niece.
Harry listened outside the door, as he’d never been told that it was wrong to do that.
“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Mr. Wilson, Dudley and Harry’s teacher.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well,” the couple responded.
“Before we begin, I’d like you to read something,” there was the sound of shuffling papers. “Ah, here it is. This was an assignment for the creative writing class. Its Harry’s as you can see from the signature. I had the students write a story about their parents.”
Harry Potter
March 15, 1989
My parents died in a car crash when I was one. I don’t remember them. I sometimes dream about them. In these dreams, my dad turned into this big white deer with antlers. And my mom made really good food. She would sometimes get mad at my dad for behaving imamturly. (I think that’s how it’s spelt). And dad would call her his flower. Sometimes, some other people would come visit. There was a HUGE man that looked like a giant, and a funny man that looked like Santa but skinnyer. There was also a really nice man that turned into a big black dog that would play with me. Another man came over, I think they called him Moony. They laughed a lot. On my birthday I got lots of funny presents. And a big cake. My dad gave me a big red ball to play with. And mom gave me a stuffed deer and a dog two. The man that turned into a dog that one time gave me a tiny gold ball that flew around in the air. And Moony gave me a book about wizards. I miss my parents. I sometimes wish I was with them.
“As you can see,” Mr. Wilson said, “Harry has a very active imagination.”
“Yes, he does, doesn’t he,” Petunia said, laughing somewhat shrilly.
“Yes, well, the reason I asked you to come here today is because earlier Harry told me something. Given his active imagination, it’s obvious that he made it up.”
“What did he say?” Vernon asked gruffly.
“Well, he said that you hit him a lot, and that you, Mrs. Dursley, tried to hit him with a frying pan once. He also said that you would lock him up without food sometimes. And his room was the cupboard under the stairs.”
Harry, outside the door, was hyperventilating. They were going to kill him for this.
Mr. Wilson continued. “Dudley is a fine boy, if a little slow in class, and I see no signs of abuse. I just wanted to warn you about what Harry was saying. I’m not one to stifle a child’s imagination, but Harry does need to be aware of the correct time and place to use it. He needs to be aware of what could have happened if he had told someone else that story. Thankfully it was just me, and knowing what I do about him, I realized immediately that he was making it up.”
“Thank you for telling us,” Petunia said. “We will have a talk with him about making up stories.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.”
Harry ran out to wait by the car. On top of everything else, he didn’t need for the Dursley’s to find out that he’d been listening to their conversation.
On their way home, they stopped by the Polkiss' house to drop off Dudley.
“Oh, we just have something important to take care of tonight, and we were hoping that you wouldn’t mind looking after Dudley. Piers is such a good friend of his… ” Petunia told Mrs. Polkiss, who readily agreed to take Dudley for the night.
When they arrived back at Privet Drive, Harry had his worst beating ever. Luckily for the Dursleys, and not so luckily for Harry, spring break started that day, and Harry wouldn’t be back at school for a week. Just long enough for the bruises to fade, and for Harry’s unnaturalness to fix the broken bones.
End Flashback
Harry carefully laid his broomstick on top of his clothes after wrapping the bristled end with some old sweaters of Dudley’s.
He lowered the lid to his trunk and latched it.
“Oy, Harry,” Ron yelled, bursting into the dorm, “It’s almost time for the feast.”
The two boys hurried downstairs to join the rest of their friends.
- - -
The next day the group of eight friends managed to get a compartment together on the train. Harry suspected that the compartments would automatically enlarge big enough for whatever size group that was going to be in them.
Harry found himself happily squished between the window and Ginny. Luna sat on Ginny’s other side, and was currently showing Neville an article on water plants in The Quibbler.
Ginny had whispered to him that Luna’s father owned the magazine and that it usually had a lot of articles about made up creatures in it. Occasionally though, she said, they had a true article.
Harry decided that he might as well get a subscription to The Quibbler for the summer. Anything to read while at the Dursleys would be a welcome relief. Harry snickered to himself when he thought about what Aunt Petunia would say if she ran across a copy of The Quibbler.
As they were nearing Kings Cross, Harry remembered something he wanted to ask Ginny.
“Ginny, what did you see Percy doing, that he didn’t want you to tell anyone about?”
“Oh,” Ginny giggled a little, a smile reminiscent of the twins gracing her face. “He’s got a girlfriend. I walked in on them kissing.”
“What!” Fred yelled dropping some books on George’s head.
“Oy, watch it!”
“Sorry. Who was it, Ginny?”
She smirked. “It was that Ravenclaw prefect, the one who was petrified, Penelope Clearwater. He was writing to her all last summer.”
Fred looked stunned. “I cannot believe that Percy got a girlfriend before me.”
“Some girls go for the bookish types, they think it’s sexy,” Hermione said matter-of-factly, as she turned the page in her History of Magic book.
“And I cannot believe that Hermione Granger just used the word sexy,” George said, staring at her in awe.
She sniffed haughtily.
“Bet you like the bookish types, Hermione,” Ron muttered disgruntled.
She sniffed again. “Actually, I’m more attracted to the awkward type.”
“Huh,” Ron said in confusion.
Harry suspected that he knew the exact type of boy that Hermione liked, or rather, the exact boy she liked.
What she said next confirmed it for him. “Apparently, I’m also attracted to the thick type.”
Ginny giggled at that, and Hermione rolled her eyes in response.
Fred and George smirked. And Neville and Luna remained oblivious to the entire conversation.
“I do not understand girls,” Ron said to Harry.
“That’s obvious,” Harry responded, smiling.
Just then the train began to slow down, and everyone began to gather their things.
Fred and George got everyone’s trunks down, and they began to file off of the train.
“Oh, Mione,” Harry said, “Hold on a second.”
“Yes, Harry, and don’t call me 'Mione'.”
Harry sighed. “Alright. Hermione, be patient with Ron, okay. He likes you; he just doesn’t know it yet.”
Hermione stared at her feet. “How could he like me and not know it?” she asked sadly.
“This is Ron we’re talking about,” he replied. “He followed spiders into the Forbidden Forest, at night, to find out what happened to you. He held your hand and talked to you while you were Petrified. He likes you. He just doesn’t know what his feelings for you mean. How could he? It’s not as if he’s ever liked anyone before.”
Harry hitched his bag up on his shoulder better. “Cheer up, Hermione. He’ll figure it out.”
“Thanks Harry,” she said, looking a bit more cheerful.
They quickly joined the queue to go through the barrier to the Muggle world. When they made it through, they began to search for the group of redheads.
“Harry, Hermione! Where did you two run off to?” Ron called out catching their attention.
“We just stopped to talk for a second,” Harry explained.
“Hello, Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, hugging him the way he imagined his own mother would have.
“Hello, Mrs. Weasley,” he smiled up at her.
“Now, you have a good summer, dear, and if you need to, you can take the Knight Bus to us at any time,” she said.
“Erm, what’s the Knight Bus?” he asked, blushing a little at not knowing.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, “I forgot that you wouldn’t know. It’s our bus. All you do is stick your wand out over the road, and that will summon the bus. Be sure to step back though, dear, the driver is a maniac.”
“Oh, okay,” he said.
Mrs. Weasley hugged him again. “I do mean at any time, dear, even the middle of the night.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Good.” She patted him on the cheek and released him.
He turned to say goodbye to Neville and Luna, who both had people waiting on them.
“Well, goodbye for now you guys,” he said. “Neville, remember what I said, okay. I’ll write you as soon as I’ve made the plans.”
“I’ll remember, Harry,” he said. “I gotta go. My gran looks impatient.”
“Have a good summer then.” As Neville left, Harry spoke to Luna. “I want to get a subscription to The Quibbler for the summer. How do I do that?” he asked.
“Oh, I’ll have Daddy send you an order form. You just fill it out, and send in the two Sickles for the year subscription.”
“Thanks, Luna, it’ll be great to have something interesting to read while I’m with the Dursleys.”
She smiled vaguely at him. “I’m sure you’ll keep busy,” she murmured. “Well, have a good summer, and don’t let the warty green bumbleshnits get you down.”
“Erm, okay, Luna. I’ll remember that,” Harry said, and waved goodbye as she walked away.
“Twins,” he said to the Dynamic Duo of Dungbombs. “Happy inventing. I’ll send you the stuff I promised, okay?”
“Great,” they said together.
Fred leaned in and whispered. “If the Muggles give you any problems, just send us an owl, and we’ll send you some prototypes to…test…on them.”
Harry smiled, “Don’t worry, I will.”
Ron and Hermione decided that it was their turns next.
“Well, Harry, send us some letters, okay. We don’t want a repeat of last summer,” Ron said.
“I’ll write. I promise.”
Hermione threw herself at him, and squeezed him tighter than even Hagrid could manage.
“Do take care of yourself. Be sure you eat enough, we don’t want you to starve to death,” she said, tearing up a bit.
“I will, Hermione. If it looks like it’ll be a repeat of last summer, I’ll just leave. Mrs. Weasley told me how to get to the Burrow if I need to,” he said.
“Good.” She wiped at her eyes using Ron’s shirt sleeve.
“Take care of yourself, mate,” Ron said, grabbing his hand and doing one of those weird secret handshake things.
“Okay. Bye, Ron. Bye, Sis,” he said the last word in a softer tone, that unfortunately for him, was still overheard by the entire Weasley clan and the Granger parents.
Fred and George made fake gagging sounds. Percy looked impressed. Ginny looked relieved. Ron rolled his eyes good-naturedly. And Mrs. Weasley sniffed, and tried not to cry.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger also looked relieved. They had been worried about their daughter’s two best friends being boys, and knowing that at least one of them only felt brotherly feelings toward her eased their minds.
Hermione hugged him again quickly, and left with her parents.
“Smooth, Potter,” Ginny said, walking up to him while Ron left to talk to Fred and George.
The twins had decided to distract him to give Harry and Ginny a moment alone. At least, as alone as they could be in a train station full of people.
“Yeah, well,” Harry muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and blushing, “it was the truth. She is like my older sister.”
Ginny smiled up at him. “I expect lots of letters from you,” she said.
“Already planning on it, Red,” he said, tweaking a bit of her hair. “Don’t go running off with some bloke over the summer.”
Ginny sighed. “Fine… but I expect you to make it up to me.”
Harry chuckled. “I’ll pay you in chocolate all next school year. Third years get to go to Hogsmeade, you know.”
They had built up their easy banter over the three weeks between the Chamber incident and leaving school for the summer.
“Seriously though,” Harry said, “I’ll miss talking to you.”
“I’ll miss talking to you too, Green-Eyes,” she replied, using her nickname for him.
“Later, Red,” Harry muttered.
Ginny hugged him quickly and tightly then released him. “Go now. The sooner you go, the sooner I can finish my plans to kidnap you.”
“Promise,” he said, walking backwards away from her, and towards the Dursleys.
“Promise.”
Harry turned around and pushed his cart over to the Dursleys. “Lead the way.”
Petunia sniffed haughtily, and began muttering to Vernon about how inconsiderate Harry was for making them wait on him. Dudley remained silent, and simply waddled after his parents.
Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Changes
Harry stared out the window of the car on the drive home from Kings Cross. Dudley was trying to keep as far away from him as he could, and Harry was perfectly fine with that.At last they pulled into the driveway of number four.
Harry got out of the car and as soon as Uncle Vernon opened the boot, he pulled out his trunk and owl cage.
He had decided to let Hedwig fly home from London. It was safer for her than being in the Dursleys’ presence for even a minute.
Harry followed the other four into the house, and was about to climb the stairs to his room when Vernon said something.
“Boy, your room isn’t up there anymore.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “It isn’t?”
Vernon smiled gleefully. “No, it’s back to the cupboard with you! Our Dudley has grown so much that he is in need of a bigger bed, so we’ve decided to turn his second bedroom into a lounge for him to make up for the lack of floor space in his main room.”
Harry suddenly had a positively Slytherin idea. “Okay, Uncle Vernon, but I don’t think my godfather will be happy when I tell him about it.”
“What godfather? You haven’t got a godfather, Potter,” Dudley said.
“Yes, I do. He just got out of prison for murder,” Harry said matter-of-factly.
Petunia turned gray.
“You won’t tell him a damn thing, boy,” Vernon hissed, his face an odd shade of puce. He grabbed Harry’s arm hard enough to leave a bruise.
Harry glared up at his uncle. “Too bad. He’s planning on meeting me at the park whenever he can. If I’m not there, or if I’m hurt, you’ll have a lot of wizards on your doorstep. He made me swear a magical oath that I’d tell him the truth about whatever happens in here.” This, of course, was a total lie. Harry had never even talked to Sirius, and had certainly not promised him anything.
Vernon didn’t know that though. He exchanged glances with Petunia. They had no choice now.
Petunia sighed in annoyance. “Fine!” she snapped. “The room is yours. We’ll just turn the attic into a suite for our Dudders.”
Dudley looked annoyed at the idea of having to climb more stairs. “But, Mum,” he whined, “it’s my bedroom not his. It’s not fair.”
Harry thought that Dudley was just pathetic.
“Put your things in your room, then get back down here and cook supper,” Petunia ordered.
“Fine,” Harry said. “But first thing tomorrow I’m throwing out all of that trash in my room.” He took great delight in calling Dudley’s possessions ‘trash’.
Dudley moaned. “It’s my stuff. He can’t throw it away.”
Harry smirked. “It’s my room. I’ll compromise with you Dudley.”
Dudley looked confused. He obviously didn’t know what a compromise was.
“I’m not having your stuff in my room, so I’ll just box it all up and put it in your ‘suite’.”
Dudley moaned again, but nothing more was said on the subject.
Harry lugged his trunk and Hedwig’s cage upstairs, and opened the window so Hedwig wouldn’t have to wait on him.
He went back downstairs to cook supper, which was chicken parmesan. The Dursleys enjoyed it, but Harry had to make do with a small plate of pasta with no sauce. His family was so charitable.
- - -
Harry happily threw all of Dudley’s old things into boxes the next morning.
“Ten points to Potter for a perfect shot into the left hoop from across the pitch,” he said as he threw Dudley’s air rifle across the room.
“And he passes the Quaffle to Ginny Weasley without even having to look for her,” he added, tossing the Monopoly set into the box on the right.
Harry finally finished around two in the afternoon, and carried all of the boxes up to the dust-filled attic. His stomach growled as he shut the door to the attic, so Harry decided to get some lunch.
He pulled out his last bottle of butterbeer, saved from the bonfire, and his last three pumpkin pasties. His aunt hadn’t called him for lunch, and if he went down now for some, she’d get mad.
The only things he hadn’t removed from the room were the books.
“Hey, Dudley,” he said, sticking his head in his cousin’s room. “Did you want your books in here or upstairs?”
Dudley stared at Harry. “Throw them out,” he grunted before turning back to his video game.
“Mind if I keep a few?” Harry asked.
Dudley grunted, and Harry decided that that was as close to a yes as he was going to get.
Harry began to sort through the books. The dictionary and thesaurus he kept. He was sick of having to ask Hermione how to spell certain words. He found some history books that were new; he figured they were issued by Smeltings and Dudley hadn’t bothered to use them for class. He added them to the “keep” pile. He wanted to compare the timelines to the ones in his History of Magic book to see how it all fit together.
There was a book called 'Chemistry for Beginners' and another called 'Geology: Science of the Earth'. Again, these were added to the “keep” pile.
Harry did however throw away the book on Anatomy. This one looked as though it actually had been used, but when he dropped it, it automatically fell open to the section on the female reproduction system.
Harry felt ill. He certainly didn’t want to know that much about his cousin. He tossed into the garbage bag, hoping he would be able to keep his lunch down.
He also threw out some old fairytale books, and several books with rather disgusting titles. The covers had pictures of kids eating bugs and dripping with mud.
He found a pristine copy of 'The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes'. He read the back and was rather impressed. He had to keep it, if only for something to read when he wasn’t outside or doing homework.
He threw out some comic books and even a few math books, and then he was done. He lifted the now heavy trash bag and toted it down to the garage.
When he got upstairs, he began to put all of his books on the shelves, and hung up his robes in the wardrobe.
He also began to sort out his clothes. Hand-me-downs from Dudley were tossed onto the floor, and everything else went into his dresser. The only clothes that weren’t Dudley’s at one point were his underwear, Weasley sweaters, his school shirts, ties, and pants.
Harry ruffled his hair with one hand absentmindedly. He needed new clothes. This made him snort. His aunt would let him have new clothes when hell froze over.
It was only three, so he dug around in his trunk and found his money bag. When he opened it, a wad of pounds fell into his hand. He had gotten the money at the bank before first year and forgotten about it.
Harry stuffed the cash into his pocket and went downstairs.
“Aunt Petunia?” he said.
“What do you want, boy?” she asked, not bothering to look up from her magazine.
Harry shifted his weight nervously. “I’m going out for the afternoon. You needn’t worry about dinner for me; I’ll take care of myself tonight. I’ll be back before nine.”
She looked up at last. “Where are you going?”
He shrugged. “Just out. Maybe I’ll run into my godfather while I’m gone.”
Petunia paled and jerked her head toward the door, giving him permission to leave.
Harry dashed outside and began to walk down to the shops.
He made it within twenty minutes. Harry supposed that he still walked fast out of habit from avoiding Dudley during his childhood.
The bells on the glass door jangled as he entered a store. He had only been here once before to his knowledge. Dudley had soon grown too wide to fit in any of the clothes from this shop.
The girl behind the counter paled nervously as Harry began to browse. “I think you’d better leave,” she said.
Harry froze and turned to her. “Why?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“I’ll call the police,” she said, reaching for the phone.
“Again, I ask you… Why?” he stressed the last word.
“I’m not about to lose my job because you stole from the store,” she said, as she gave him a dirty look.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the love of… Look, lady, I’ve never stolen anything in my life, unless you count scraps of leftovers from my aunt’s fridge when I missed out on dinner. I am fully capable of paying.”
She continued glaring at him. “Yeah, right. I know all about you. You go to St. Brutus’s.”
Harry groaned. “Not that fairytale again! I don’t go there! I go to a private school up in Scotland, where my parents went!”
“Then why would your aunt lie about it?” she said, thinking she had won.
“She lied because she was jealous that my mother got to go to a fancy school for gifted students and she didn’t. She lied because she didn’t want anyone to know that I might possibly be smarter than her darling son.” Harry sighed. “Look, I have money,” he pulled a couple of bills out of his pocket. “I am in desperate need of some new clothes, because right now the only things I have are my cousin’s hand-me-downs that never did fit right. If you’re really that scared, I’ll leave and do my shopping in London instead.”
“One wrong move and I’m calling the police.”
“Deal,” Harry said, knowing full well that she wouldn’t do it. He wasn’t going to do anything that could possibly be construed as criminal.
He grabbed some packages of boxers and undershirts and then began to look at regular clothes.
He didn’t really know what kids his age wore, so he was just going to have to wing it. Maybe next time he’d bring Ginny and Hermione with him.
The girl watched him browse. He looked hopelessly lost. At last he seemed to find something that suited his taste.
He pulled a pair of khakis off of a shelf and held them up to determine what size he’d need. Too big, he thought, and pulled the next size smaller off the shelf. Much better.
He grabbed three pairs then moved on to the jeans. “Erm, do you mind if I try these on? There are so many different styles.”
“Fine,” she said, “but you leave everything else on the counter while you’re in there.”
He smiled. “Good idea. I don’t think lugging this stuff all over the place would be much fun. Can I just pile everything I want on the counter?”
She nodded. All the better to make sure he doesn’t steal anything.
He tried on several styles of jeans before he found a pair he liked. Harry didn’t know why a lot of teens enjoyed wearing their pants around their butts. It looked stupid. His jeans fit him nicely around the waist but weren’t too tight in the legs. They were a bit long but not by much, and as Mrs. Weasley would say, “It’s growing room.”
He tossed five pairs onto the counter in various shades of blue. He picked out several shorts in denim and khaki and then moved on to the shirts.
Harry just couldn’t seem to find anything he liked. They either had stupid sayings or had pictures on them that would make no sense to the average wizard.
He finally decided to get a bunch of plain tee-shirts in various colors, and matching button down shirts to wear over them. He even found a couple of pullover sweaters that were on sale because they were left over from the winter.
Harry also picked out three different tracksuits to wear when he started exercising, several sweatshirts, three sets of pajama pants, and a new robe. He figured he could wear his undershirts with the pajama pants.
Harry also, at the last minute, grabbed several packages of socks and a leather wallet.
The girl rang him up, looking doubtful when she told him the total, however it didn’t even come to half of the amount he had with him.
He left that store and wandered down the road to the shoe store. His current trainers were, quite literally, falling apart.
Harry wound up buying two pairs of trainers (one pair for exercise) and a pair of dress shoes.
His stomach growled as he left the shoe store, so he decided to stop at a restaurant he had passed on his way there.
Harry sat down at a booth in the diner that would not have looked out of place in the 1950s. He ordered some tea and a roast beef dinner, and sat back to relax until he had to leave to go home.
He got home twenty minutes before nine and was promptly accosted by his Uncle Vernon.
“Boy! Where did you get the money for all that stuff?” Vernon indicated the shopping bags that Harry was carrying.
Harry glared at him. “My godfather gave me the money for them. He said he was sick of seeing me in rags that weren’t fit for even the dustbin.”
Vernon paled, and Harry stormed upstairs. A minute later, Harry had carted all of Dudley’s old clothes down to the trash can.
He hurried back upstairs to remove the tags from all of his new clothes, and to fold them and put them away.
Just before he climbed into bed he got an owl from the Quibbler. He quickly filled out the form and sent it out with the required money.
- - -
The next morning Harry got up excited. He would be meeting Remus Lupin later today.
Harry hurridly dressed in a tracksuit and dashed downstairs to cook breakfast for the Dursleys.
He decided to start jogging every morning to get into better shape. Today he managed two miles before he was too tired to continue, but he felt it wasn’t a bad start.
Harry decided to get some breakfast at the same restaurant from the night before. He was lucky he had thought to put some money in his pocket before he left the house that morning. After eating, he hurried home to shower and get ready to meet his father’s friend.
Harry showered quickly and got dressed in a new pair of khakis and his green tee-shirt and threw on a black button down over it. He also put on his second pair of trainers which were black.
He tucked his wand inside his right sleeve, tucked his letter from himself into his pocket, and grabbed the Sherlock Holmes book before going downstairs.
“Aunt Petunia, I’m heading down to the park for most of the day, I’ll probably be getting my own lunch again, alright,” he said.
She turned to look at him, and her eyes went wide. “Fine,” she said somewhat distractedly.
Harry wasn’t sure why she had looked at him like that, but he thought it best to ignore it.
He hurried out the door and began to walk down the street. When he arrived at the park, he wandered over to the picnic tables where a few mothers sat watching their children play.
Harry sat at one table, facing away from the women, and began to read. He was halfway through 'A Study in Scarlet' when he heard someone clear their throat.
His head shot up and he saw two men standing about ten feet in front of him. He recognized Remus Lupin right away, but wasn’t sure who the other man was.
“Hi,” Harry said, smiling at the men as he shut his book.
“Hello, you might remember me from the trial,” Remus said.
“Yeah, of course I do, Mr. Lupin,” Harry replied. “Please sit down.”
“Sure, and please call me Remus, Mr. Lupin just makes me feel old,” he said as he sat down on one side of Harry. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought Sirius with me. He was begging to meet you.”
Harry looked closer at the other man. Sure enough, he was the same man who had just been released from Azkaban. Sirius had gained some weight and his hair had been cut, making him look years younger.
“H-hi, Sirius,” Harry said in little more than a whisper. He could hardly believe that his godfather was standing right in front of him.
“Hi, Harry,” Sirius said, smiling at the younger version of James. “I’m sorry that I didn’t notice you at the trial.” A look of shame crossed his face.
“I could hardly blame you for that,” Harry said. “You were a little distracted from just having been released from prison and seeing the traitorous rat again.”
Sirius shrugged a little and sat down on Harry’s other side.
Harry turned to Remus and said, “I suppose you’d like to read my letter now.”
“Yes, please,” Remus replied.
Sirius suddenly asked, “Why didn’t I rewind time with you?”
“I don’t know. I guess you were still in Azkaban or something,” Harry said, frowning as he thought about it.
The trio sat in silence while Remus finished reading the letter.
“Harry, I really think Sirius ought to read this,” he said when he was done.
“Okay.” Harry took it from him and handed it to his godfather.
Sirius tensed suddenly when he was about halfway through the letter. “You are to the Dursleys what a house-elf is to the Malfoys?” he asked tersely.
Harry blushed and stared at the ground as he nodded.
Sirius exchanged an angry look with Remus. “James would never forgive us…” he began.
“You have a plan?” Remus asked.
Sirius’ eyes sparkled with mischief. “Hell, yes.”
Harry looked up and glanced from one to the other, looking confused. “What’s going on?”
Sirius grinned at him. “Let’s start by going to Gringotts, then we’ll bring you back here to pack, and we’ll all be gone by nightfall.”
Harry still looked confused but said, “Okay.”
“Is there anywhere we can go where no one will see us,” Remus asked.
“Yeah, there’s an alley between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk,” Harry said.
“Lead the way,” Sirius said, standing.
As soon as they were in the alley, Sirius began to explain the plan. “You know how this letter said that I’m your godfather and have the right to take you from the Dursleys.”
“Yeah,” Harry said.
“Well, Dumbledore has the power to make that difficult, unless we do it in such a way that he won’t know anything about it until it’s too late.”
Harry nodded to show that he understood.
“We have to go to Gringotts so I can become Head of the Black family,” at Harry’s confused look, Sirius added, “So I can take control of the family vaults to keep my Death Eater cousins from accessing them. Then I can authorize you to become Head of the Potter family, which means…”
Remus finished for him, “You’ll have control of your properties and finances, and you’ll be emancipated.”
Harry grinned. “Which means no restriction for underage wizardry.”
“Exactly,” Sirius said, beaming.
“Well, what are we waiting for?!” Harry exclaimed.
The two remaining Marauders exchanged a look of pride.
Sirius said, “Come here, Harry, and hold onto my arm. We’re going to Apparate.”
“Apparate?” Harry asked in confusion
“Yes, we’re going to disappear from this spot and appear in one in London in less than a second,” he explained.
Harry’s eyes widened. “I’ve done that before.”
“You have?” Remus asked in shock.
Harry nodded. “By accident when I was in primary school. Dudley and his gang were chasing me to beat me up, and the next thing I knew, I was on the roof of the school kitchens.”
“Wow!” Sirius said in awe.
Harry grabbed onto Sirius’ arm and the three of them disappeared, only to reappear behind the Leaky Cauldron.
They hurried through Diagon Alley and avoided three giggling witches, eight wizards, a hag, and someone that Sirius referred to as 'Dung'.
The two men and Harry entered the bank, walking quickly past the Goblin guards who Harry smiled at.
Sirius walked up to an available Goblin and said, “I’m here to claim my position as Head of the Black family.”
“Griphook!” the Goblin called out.
“Hi, Griphook! It’s good to see you again,” Harry said, smiling at the Goblin he had met his first time in the bank.
The two men and the Goblins all stared at Harry.
“You as well, Mr. Potter,” Griphook replied after he got over the shock. “Follow me.”
They followed him down a wide marble corridor and into a large room.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right back,” Griphook said, leaving the room.
When he returned, he walked up to Sirius and said, “Do you accept the rights and responsibilities of Head of the Black Family?”
“I do,” Sirius said.
Griphook handed him a gold ring with a large black stone in it. It had a crest of a rearing Unicorn.
“Your inheritance includes the Black family vault, which holds eight million six hundred and fifty two Galleons and one Knut. There are no investments at the current time. In addition, you also have inherited the Black family home at number twelve Grimmauld Place,” Griphook explained. “Sign here to show that you have been informed of your inheritance.”
Sirius signed the parchment on the line indicated.
“Do you have any other business you wish to attend to at this time?” the Goblin asked.
“Yes,” Sirius said. “I would like to adopt Harry James Potter as my heir.”
“I anticipated this,” Griphook said. “Sign here, Lord Black. Then you may sign here, Mr. Potter. Would you like your name to change to reflect this adoption, Mr. Potter?”
“What would my name change to?” Harry asked.
“Either Harry James Potter-Black, or Harry James Black. On this line, you should sign whichever name you want.”
Harry looked up at his godfather for advice.
Sirius raised his hands up, and said, “Don’t look at me, Harry. It’s your choice.”
Harry signed his name and showed it to both men, then handed the paper to Griphook.
“Do you have any other business, Lord Black?”
Sirius nodded. “As the godfather of Harry James Potter-Black, I hereby authorize him to receive the Potter-Gryffindor signet ring.”
Griphook sighed. “I am sorry to inform you that in your absence Albus Dumbledore was assigned control of Mr. Potter-Black’s affairs until such time as he is legally able to take control himself. So, unless you can prove Mr. Dumbledore's negligence of the accounts, control must remain with him.”
“What would it take to prove negligence?” Harry asked.
“Intentional poor investment choices, or using your gold for purchase that weren’t for you,” the Goblin explained.
“Can I get a copy of my bank statements for the past eleven years?” Harry asked.
“Yes, I’ll be right back,” Griphook left the room and returned a moment later with a ledger.
Sirius began to read them over. “The only investment that Dumbledore made personally was to Fudge’s campaign fund.”
Griphook grinned. “Lord Black, due to Mr. Dumbledore’s gross negligence of the accounts of Harry James Potter-Black, I hereby hand over control of his affairs to you, his rightful guardian.”
“What gross negligence?” Remus asked.
“Supporting Minister Fudge WAS gross negligence in my opinion,” the Goblin said, grinning evilly, a scary sight indeed.
Sirius and Remus grinned back.
“We quite agree,” Sirius said. “Well... NOW, as the godfather of Harry James Potter-Black, I hereby authorize him to receive the Potter-Gryffindor signet ring.”
“So be it. Mr. Potter, do you accept the rights and responsibilities of Head of the Potter-Gryffindor Family?”
“Yes,” Harry said, as he accepted the signet ring. He slid onto his right hand ring finger.
“You have inherited both the Potter family vault and Gryffindor’s vault. You already have access to your trust fund vault. You have three properties... the cottage at Godric’s Hollow in Scotland, which has been rebuilt as per your grandfather’s agreement with us; Gryffindor Castle in Scotland; and Potter Manor in northern England. In addition, your grandfather invested in The Daily Prophet, Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor, and Baggin’s Bookshop in Hogsmeade. Your father invested in the Firebolt Company, Zonko’s Joke Shop, and Gambol & Japes Joke Shop,” Griphook explained. “All investments are doing well at this time. Sign here to show that you have been informed of your inheritance.”
Harry signed and asked, “Did my dad know the owners of either joke shop?”
“No,” Sirius said. “He didn’t. Why?”
“Oh, good. I want to withdraw my investments in them please,” Harry told Griphook.
“One moment please.” Griphook left the room.
“Sacrilege!” Sirius declared. “Removing investments from jokes! You’re insane!”
Harry grinned. “Wait for it,” he said.
“Wait for what?” the incredulous Marauder asked.
Griphook returned. “Sign here to withdraw your investments in the joke shops.”
Harry did. “Excellent! Now I would like you to invest that money in a new account which I would like for you to set up for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The only people allowed access to the account would be myself, and Fred and George Weasley,” Harry explained.
“One moment please.” Griphook left the room again, leaving Harry with the two gobsmacked Marauders. They now understood that Harry was investing in a new joke shop, and was obviously a full partner since he had access to the account.
“Sign here,” the Goblin said when he returned. “I will inform Mr. and Mr. Weasley about the account.”
“Thank you,” Harry said. “Would you mind if I had a moment alone with my godfather and our friend?”
“Not a problem. I need to file these anyway. I shall return in a half hour.”
When Griphook was gone, Harry turned to Sirius. “I need you to make sure that nothing leaves this room or enters it, Sirius,” Harry said.
Sirius warded the room and said, “What’s up Harry?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes. Why?” he asked.
Harry sighed with relief. “I’m about to do something that will seem a little crazy, so bear with me.” He paused for a moment. “Rita, you little beetle, turn to human form. NOW!”
Both Marauders looked a little nervous.
A small beetle fluttered out of the folds of Sirius’ robes and transformed in to a blonde woman who wore way too much makeup.
“How did you know it was me?” she asked Harry, who smirked.
“I saw you land on Sirius while we were walking through Diagon Alley. I had been tipped off about your spying form.”
“Hmph. What do you want?” she asked.
“It’s simple. I’m going to forget all about your being a beetle.” Harry grinned. “I’ll make a deal with you. You’ll be the only reporter I’ll ever talk to, and you will only write what I approve of. Otherwise, I’ll make this deal with a different reporter.”
Rita seemed to be thinking about the pros and cons of this deal. “I want my first interview with you tonight,” she said at last.
Harry narrowed his eyes. “I have one condition. You only print it when I say you can. Say…next Saturday?”
She groaned. “Fine.”
“Excellent,” Harry said. “I’ll meet you at the park in Little Whinging, Surrey at seven. Oh, and Rita, one other thing…”
“Yes?”
“Register yourself as a new animagus or the deal is off.”
She bristled.
“By tomorrow night,” Harry added. “I have no desire to be charged as an accomplice to an illegal activity simply because I know your secret.”
“Fine,” she snapped.
As she transformed, Sirius lowered the wards so she could slip through the keyhole in the door.
He raised the wards again and asked, “What the hell are you thinking?”
Harry sighed. “Better to have control over what the media says about me, than to have them print lies to sell more papers.”
“True,” Sirius said, “but still, Skeeter?”
Harry shrugged. “I had dirt on her. That’s more than I can say about anyone else. Besides, she owes me now.”
“I guess,” Sirius muttered, and nothing more was said on the matter.
After Griphook returned, they traveled down to their vaults, and Harry was able to read letters from his parents for the first time. He also took a sip of the learning potion, but decided to leave it and his mother’s engagement ring there for the time being.
Harry also read the list of people who were allowed access to his homes, and changed it to allow only the time-travelers and Sirius. The last thing he wanted was an unexpected visitor.
Harry, upon searching the vault, found a seven compartment Auror trunk that was empty. “Hey, why don’t we load up some of these books in the trunk,” he suggested to the two men.
Remus happily began to search the shelves for some rare books that could be useful in the future. He found 'Moste Potente Potions', 'Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes', 'An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms', 'The Invisible Book of Invisibility' (which only remained invisible when closed), 'A Guide To Medieval Sorcery', and 'The Dark Arts Outsmarted'.
Sirius was ecstatic to find 'The Marauders’ Book of Pranks', and 'The Marauders’ Guide to Becoming an Animagus'.
Harry made Sirius promise to teach him from it during the summer.
Harry, however, was the one to find Lily’s journals, which he was not ashamed to admit crying over.
After that, they went to the Black family vault, where Sirius asked Griphook to destroy anything that had Dark Magic on it. After haggling, the Goblin agreed to have it done for the sum of one hundred Galleons.
While there, Sirius removed Bellatrix, Narcissa and Draco from the access list. He even closed down Draco’s Black family trust fund vault. Draco would still have the Malfoy one, but it would annoy the Malfoys, which was excellent motivation for Sirius to do it.
The only members of the Black family that retained access were Sirius, Andromeda, Nymphadora, and Harry.
They took another wild cart ride down to the Gryffindor vault, which Harry opened without being asked a security question. This astounded Griphook, who told them that the vault always asked questions unless the person had been there before and was allowed to enter.
As soon as the door shut behind the two Marauders and Harry, someone spoke.
“I’m glad to see that you were able to rewind time, Mr. Potter.”
Harry looked up and saw a portrait of a man who looked like him but with brown eyes and neat hair.
“Who are you?” Harry asked.
The man smiled. “Godric Gryffindor at your service. We have met before this, though you do not remember it. You were nearly sixteen at the time.”
Remus and Sirius stared in shock. If either of them had any doubts that the letters were real, the portrait just destroyed them.
“Sir,” Harry asked, “Do you have any advice for me?”
“Indeed I do,” Godric said. “As you know, you own my old home, Gryffindor Castle in Scotland. You could go there, but I would suggest instead that you go to Potter Manor. You should use the castle as a last resort for now. As soon as you are at the manor, you should call Seneca, your Phoenix, to you. You were bound to him in the future, and the bond remains. He will only answer to you and Ginny, as she is also bound to him.”
“Alright,” Harry said, a little overwhelmed by all this. “Would you like me to bring your portrait to Potter Manor with me?”
“Yes, please,” Godric said, smiling happily. “I would very much like to see it.”
Sirius pulled the trunk out of his pocket and opened it to a compartment that was the size of the Dursleys’ house.
Remus climbed in with the portrait and hung it on one of the walls using a sticking charm.
- - -
The three quickly returned to Privet Drive where Harry packed his trunk. It really didn’t take long as he already knew where everything was. The Dursleys were out, so Sirius left a note saying that Harry would no longer be living there.
Then, Harry took the men to the same restaurant from before, where they had dinner.
Sirius absolutely loved the Coke he ordered, and Remus had a good laugh at his expense when he started burping uncontrollably. Harry suspected that Remus helped the burping last by using a charm on Sirius, but he had no proof.
All too soon for Harry’s taste, it was time to meet Rita Skeeter.
They found her already waiting for them, albeit impatiently. She was seated at one of the picnic tables in the park and was watching the children on the swings with distaste.
“I’m glad you didn’t decide to skip out on me,” Rita said. “Shall we begin,” she added in a far more cheerful tone of voice, and pulled out a vibrant green quill.
“Take the notes by hand,” Sirius ordered.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“You heard me,” he said. “That’s a Quick-Quotes Quill, and I won’t let you use it for the interview.”
“Fine,” she snapped, and replaced it in her big shiny red bag. Instead, she pulled out a plain eagle feather quill and opened a bottle of ink. She placed her quill above a piece of parchment.
“So, Mr. Potter,” she began, “tell me about your childhood.”
“Well,” Harry said, his eyes glazing over with memories. “The important thing to remember is that there are good Muggles and bad Muggles, just as there are good wizards and bad ones.”
Her quill dashed across the parchment, as she wrote word-for-word what he said.
“My aunt and her family are the bad kind.”
She paused in shock, and then hurried to write that down.
Harry continued, “Up until I started school, I didn’t know what my name was. I thought it was 'Boy' or 'Freak'.”
Sirius looked furious.
“I lived in the cupboard under the stairs until I got my Hogwarts letter. That’s when my family thought they might be being watched, so they gave me Dudley’s second bedroom.”
“Did you say ‘second bedroom’,” Rita asked incredulously.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “His first bedroom was where he slept and kept most of his things, but his second bedroom was where he kept all of his broken toys and books, not that he ever read any of them.”
She nodded as she continued to scribble.
“My aunt worked me like a house-elf most of the time. ‘Work for your keep, you ungrateful brat,’ she’d say. I learned to cook by the time I was five. I could garden like a professional when I was three, and I did almost all of the cleaning. The only time I wasn’t working was when I was locked in my cupboard.”
Harry paused so Rita could catch up then continued, “And on the occasions where I’d do accidental magic, I’d be locked in my cupboard without food for days at a time. Or if Uncle Vernon was in a really bad mood, he’d beat me up. Then I’d get in even more trouble for healing faster than I should’ve. I lost track of the number of broken bones I had before I was ten.”
Rita finished writing this down then asked, “So what kind of accidental magic did you do... besides healing yourself of course?”
“Oh. I once turned my teacher's wig blue, shrank a hideously ugly sweater that my aunt tried to force me to wear, and I even Apparated onto the roof of my primary school’s kitchens. My cousin and his gang were chasing me, and the next thing I knew, I was up there.”
“Really,” she said, as she scribbled. “What do you remember about your parents?”
“Not much,” Harry said, shredding a leaf that had blown onto the table. “I remember my Mum being murdered.”
Sirius and Remus gasped.
“What happened,” Rita asked.
“Voldemort,” Rita flinched, but Harry ignored her, “told her to step aside. He wanted to kill me, but she could’ve lived. She refused, then there was a green flash of light, and he was laughing. His laugh was high and shrill, like something out of a horror film.”
“Do you remember anything else about your parents?”
“Sometimes,” Harry said, “I can almost smell her perfume. Light and flowery. And I can almost remember my dad’s laugh; he did that a lot you know... laugh. I remember my mum’s chocolate biscuits. They were the best. And my dad used to pick me up under my arms and pretend that I was flying. That’s it though.”
Rita rushed to get that all down. “I noticed that you said You-know-who’s name, aren’t you scared?”
“No, I’ve faced him three times and lived, why should I fear him? Besides, Dumbledore says that fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. I think everyone should call him by his name. No more of that You-know-who stuff. If people aren’t comfortable with calling him Voldemort, then they should call him ‘Tom’. That’s his real name you know, ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’. He just rearranged the letters to come up with ‘I am Lord Voldemort’. Stupid isn’t it?”
She wrote that down, her eyes wide with shock. “Now that your godfather is free, will you go to live with him?”
“It’s what my parents wanted, and he wants me, so yeah! It beats living with the Dursleys.” Harry grinned at his godfather, who ruffled his hair in response.
“Tell me about Hogwarts, what do you think about it?”
“Hogwarts,” Harry said, his eyes sparkling with joy. “It’s my first real home. I belong there, in the magical world. I belong in a way I never knew was possible. I have friends there too. I never had any before, because Dudley would beat up anyone who was nice to me.”
“Tell me about your friends,” she said, dipping her quill in the ink.
“Well, there’s Hagrid, my first friend ever. He bought me my owl, Hedwig.”
“Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, grinning widely. “He took me shopping for my school supplies and bought me some ice cream at Florean Fortescue's.”
“What about people your own age?” she asked.
“Ron Weasley and I became friends on the train to Hogwarts. He taught me about Quidditch, and told me about Chocolate Frog cards and stuff like that. It’s great. Then there’s Hermione. She’s the smartest in our year, and she’s always pushing me and Ron to study more. She’s like — like my older sister or something. Always trying to take care of me. It’s a great feeling.”
Harry grinned, “Then there’s the twins, Fred and George Weasley. When the whole school thought that I was the Heir of Slytherin,” Harry laughed at that, “they made fun of it, made me feel better. Like there were at least some people who knew I would never hurt anyone.”
He waited for her to catch up again. “And now there’s even Ginny Weasley. She’s brilliant, as smart as Hermione, and as funny as the twins, and as loyal as Ron. I probably spent all of my time after classes ended this past term, just hanging out by the lake with her.”
Rita looked up. “Do you have more friends?”
“Oh, yeah! There’s Neville Longbottom. He’s really nice. In fact, he’s even been teaching me about the different things that I have to know for when I come of age. You know, laws and things about finances. He knows a lot about it too. And there’s also Luna Lovegood. I really hate it when people tease her. She’s awfully kind; different, yes, but that’s part of what I like about her. She’s refreshing; she gives everything a different perspective.”
Rita continued writing. “You’re also the youngest Quidditch player in a century, yes?”
“That’s what Professor McGonagall said,” Harry confirmed. “Wood, my Quidditch captain, makes us train really hard. He really wants to win the Quidditch Cup before he graduates next year, and I for one am going to work my hardest to help him get it. He’s good enough to play professionally, I reckon. And we have three amazing chasers on our team: Katie, Angelina and Alicia. They can practically read each other’s minds, they’re that good. And I honestly believe that Fred and George, who are our Beaters, CAN read each other’s minds.”
She nodded.
“As soon as I leave the ground and start flying, I just feel amazing. The first time I got in the air, it was as though I’d been waiting for it all my life. I feel at peace, you know. It’s even better when I’m chasing the Snitch. Forget the other players, or even the other Seeker. It’s just me and that tiny gold ball. Everything else fades away.”
“What do you think about your Professors?”
“Well, Professor McGonagall is strict but fair. She seems really tough, but you can just tell that she really does care about her students. Professor Flitwick is a blast. He’s so cheerful, and he makes Charms fun. Every class with him is interesting. Professor Snape tends to favor Slytherin, but that’s not as bad as it seems. A lot of the time, it feels like it’s the rest of the school against the Slytherins and that’s not fair to them. Professor Sprout is nice, and she takes her teaching seriously. The other Professors are okay. As for the Headmaster, though, he’s not bad. I just really have issues with him knowing about my relatives’ abuse but still making me come back during the summer. Madam Pomfrey, the Healer at school, is awesome though. I really trust her, which is good because I tend to wind up in Hospital Wing a lot.” Harry laughed a little.
Rita smiled, and said, “I understand that you have had two Defense Professors so far. What did you think about them?”
“Well, Quirrell had Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head, so I really didn’t like him. He tried to kill me too. If it weren’t for my mother’s blood protection, I’d probably be dead. And Lockhart was terrible; he was a complete fraud. Our first class with him, he gave us a test on his books. It had questions about his favorite color and his Christmas wish, but nothing about defense. He confessed to me and my friend Ron that he interviewed other people and wrote about their accomplishments, making them seem like his own. The reason no one ever came forward about it was because he Obliviated them all. He tried to Obliviate us too, but he was using Ron’s broken wand, and the spell backfired, erasing his memories instead. Poetic justice if you ask me.”
Rita looked as though Christmas had come early.
“Given everything you’ve been through at Hogwarts, do you feel safe there?” she asked.
Harry grinned sadly. “I don’t really feel safe anywhere. I mean, the person who betrayed my parents was living as a rat in my friend Ron’s house. I was nearly murdered by a Professor, and another one tried to erase my memories. I don’t trust the Headmaster, because what kind of a person would make a child live with people who abuse him. I trust my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, my godfather Sirius, Remus Lupin, Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall. I don’t really trust anyone else, because I either don’t know them well enough, or they’ve betrayed me in some way.” Harry paused. “Actually, I also trust Madam Bones. She seems really smart, and she truly wants to see justice done. And I also trust Griphook, a Goblin at Gringotts…”
Rita stared in shock.
“…Dobby, the house-elf who saved my life; and also Firenze, a Centaur who saved my life.”
“Really?” she asked. “But they’re not human.”
“So what?” Harry said. “Griphook knows a lot about finances, and I know I can trust him with mine. Firenze saved me from being attacked by Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, and Dobby warned me that someone was going to do something at Hogwarts this past year. What does it matter that they aren’t human?”
Rita stared. “You do know that Mr. Lupin is a werewolf, don’t you?”
“Really,” Harry asked him.
Remus blushed and nodded.
“Oh. So what? He’s only a werewolf during the full moon, and I know him enough to know that he’d lock himself up during those times, so he’s not a risk. It isn’t his fault he was bitten,” Harry said, shrugging.
Rita hurriedly wrote that all down. “Do you have anything else you’d like to add?” she asked as she flexed her sore hand.
“Not that I’m aware of,” Harry said.
“Great!” she said, cheerfully folding up her parchment. “I’ll write the article and send it to you for approval, probably sometime tomorrow. That way it will be ready for the Saturday edition.”
“Great!” Harry said. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Skeeter, and I look forward to working with you some more.”
They shook hands, and she turned and shook Sirius’ hand then Remus’.
“Perhaps I could interview you sometime, Mr. Black?” she asked flirtatiously.
“I’ll think about it,” he replied.
“Excellent,” she said, beaming. “This article is going to be a front pager, I’m certain of it. Ta!” she said, walking away.
Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Home, Shopping, And Ginny
Harry turned to his godfather as Rita walked away. “Well, that went well.”“Harry,” Sirius began, looking surprisingly serious. “Didn’t you ever tell anyone about the abuse?”
“Yeah, of course,” Harry said, surprised to be asked that. “I told a teacher before, but they thought I made it up and told the Dursleys what I said, so I got in trouble. I figured, why bother telling anyone at Hogwarts because they had to have already known about it. My first letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs.”
Sirius growled.
“Oh! Sirius!” Harry said suddenly. “The day I went to the Ministry for your trial, they checked my wand, and the guard handed me this note,” he said as he pulled a slip of paper from his pocket.
Sirius fumed silently as he read about the spells that had been placed on Harry’s wand.
“THAT IS IT!” he yelled suddenly. “Moony! We’re teaching Harry EVERYTHING about being a Marauder so he can get back at Dumbledore!”
Remus smirked and an evil glint appeared in his eyes. “I have an idea,” he said.
The two men and Harry walked back to the Dursleys’, and Remus led the way to Dudley’s bedroom.
“Hmm, this’ll work,” he said, picking up 'Alien Destroyer III'.
The two Marauders worked carefully for the next ten minutes on removing all of the charms and placing them on one of Dudley’s computer games. Dumbledore wouldn’t suspect a thing until too late.
- - -
They Apparated to Grimmauld Place, Sirius’ family home, to use the floo to get to Potter Manor.
Sirius had ordered the insane elf, Kreacher, to have the house clean by the end of the summer. The elf was to give him an updated report once a week.
Kreacher had, surprisingly, taken the order well. It seemed he was bored from only taking orders from a portrait rather than a human master.
Kreacher was even more obedient once Sirius told him that any photos of the Black family could be put in a photo album for him to keep. This was on Harry’s suggestion, and Sirius was shocked to see Kreacher’s eyes well up with tears of joy.
Once the house was clean, Sirius was going to hire the Gringotts Goblins to destroy any Dark Artifacts that the house held. He would also have them remove any Dark books to place in a special vault that would only be able to open to those with pure motives.
“Aah, it’s good to be home,” Sirius said later, as the trio entered the foyer of Potter Manor.
Harry was awed by the smooth marble floors, the high ceilings, and the giant crystal chandelier.
There was a large curving staircase that led to the second story, and according to Sirius and Remus, there was another one on the east wing of the second floor to get to the third floor.
There was also a huge attic, which held some very rare and expensive antiques that were occasionally swapped with what was in the main rooms just to have variety.
Sirius called for the house elves. “Tibby! Jibber!”
Instantly two tiny, middle aged house elves appeared. Both were wearing crisp white pillowcases tied with gold drapery tassels.
“Mister Sirius! Mister Remus!” they cried out together.
“It is being too long since Tibby and Jibber is seeing you,” Tibby, the female elf, declared.
“Yes, it has,” Remus murmured.
Harry grinned. “Hi,” he said suddenly, capturing the attention of the elves.
“Is it Master Harry?” Jibber, the male elf, asked in awe.
Tibby squealed. “It is, it is… he is having Mistress Lily’s eyes!”
Harry knelt and gently hugged each elf, earning looks of pure adoration. “I insist that you call me Harry, not Master Harry.”
Both elves nodded quickly, anxious to please their new master.
“Could one of you please bring Harry’s trunk up to the master suite for him,” Sirius asked. “Remus and I will bring our own things here tomorrow.”
“Of course, Mister Sirius,” Jibber said, snapping his fingers and making the trunk disappear.
Tibby smiled. “Is you to be living here now?” she asked Harry hopefully.
“Yes,” he said decisively.
She squealed again and said. “Misters Remus and Sirius is being put in their old rooms.”
Both men grinned in response.
“'The Tower' is to be cleaned out for good Harry to use with his friends,” she added.
“What’s 'The Tower'?” Harry asked.
Sirius grinned. “It’s an actual tower at the back of the west wing. You can only enter it through the attic, oddly enough. It’s also where your dad would practice his animagus transformation and me too, when I was visiting. I didn’t actually move in here until my fifth year after we had both already completed the transformation.”
Remus grinned. “You’ll like it. It’s done in Gryffindor colors, and has some Muggle and magical games in it.”
“There’s also a pool table on the second level, and a Potions lab on the basement level. And you get to each level using what Lily called firemen’s poles,” Sirius added.
“Wicked,” Harry breathed then said, “Hang on. Even going up?”
“Yep,” Sirius confirmed nodding. “Hey, I wonder if we could get a snack of pizza. I’m starving.” He looked hopeful.
“Well, let’s go to the kitchen and ask,” Remus suggested.
“Walk THIS way,” Sirius said, grinning madly, as he began to walk like a zombie.
Harry looked at Remus and arched a brow in question, but Remus just shrugged and began to walk after Sirius, also like a zombie.
Harry rolled his eyes then shrugged. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” he muttered, and followed their lead.
- - -
After a delicious snack of four meat pizza, Sirius led Harry up the stairs to the second story, and to the right. They walked down a wide corridor until they came to a set of wide, oak double doors.
Sirius threw them open to reveal an even larger corridor that was about the same size as the entryway but longer.
They walked past the staircase that the Marauders had mentioned earlier, and down the corridor toward the very front of the house.
Sirius stopped at the end of the hall, by the huge windows that showed a beautiful view of the front lawn. He then opened the huge double doors on the left.
Despite their size, they swung open easily and silently.
“Lumos,” Sirius said, and the room was suddenly filled with light, coming from a smaller version of the same chandelier that was in the entrance hall.
Harry’s mouth fell open in shock.
There was a large cherry wood, four-poster bed directly opposite him that looked as though he’d need a ladder to climb onto it. It had a beautiful gold silk coverlet and lots of plump pillows in gold and emerald green.
There was a large window on the right wall, and two smaller ones flanking the bed; all of the windows were framed by gold silk drapes. The left wall held two doors with a giant fireplace centered between them, and framed with wooden shelves which were filled with books. A painting of Hogwarts hung above the fireplace, and the walls were all painted green.
A giant, over-stuffed couch sat in front of the fireplace, and was upholstered in green and gold damask. Making a u-shape with the couch were two cushy chairs, one in gold with a green pillow, and the other in green with a gold pillow. The couch also had a white hand-knit afghan with the initials 'LE & JP' on it in gold lettering.
The wall the door was on, held a dresser on the side nearest the fireplace, and a large wooden desk and matching chair on the other.
Harry walked to the door nearest him, and was surprised to find that it was a walk-in closet the size of Dudley’s second bedroom, and it already held his neatly hung-up robes.
He exited the closet and entered the other door, which led to the largest bathroom he’d ever seen. It held a large tub that was big enough for two people, a giant walk-in shower, a large linen closet filled with gold fluffy towels, and a long counter that held two sinks and had a large gold-framed mirror hanging above it.
Harry left the bathroom, his eyes wide, and sat heavily down on the nearest chair.
“Wow,” was all he could say.
Remus and Sirius were both grinning in amusement at Harry’s awe.
- - -
The next morning Harry woke to the early morning sun shining on his face. Thankfully he was a morning person otherwise the fact that his room faced the east would have been a big problem.
He hurriedly got dressed in a track suit and went down to the kitchens.
“Erm, Tibby, is there anywhere here that I can go to run laps?” he asked the enthusiastic elf.
“Yes, Harry, sir, there is. You can be making laps ‘round the Quidditch pitch. Tibby is showing you where,” she said, hopping down from her step ladder that she used as she washed some potatoes in the sink.
She hurried over and grasped his right hand firmly in her own smaller left one. She led him out the back door and down a cobbled path for about a half-mile.
There it was… a professional sized Quidditch pitch. Harry caught himself just before he started drooling.
“Thanks Tibby, I’ll be inside in a bit,” he said, still staring up at the large golden hoops.
He shook his head to clear it then took a deep breath, and started his laps.
He made it five laps, about four miles, which was twice as good as he’d done in Little Whinging. He then began to stretch. He’d forgotten to do it yesterday, and if he remembered correctly from Primary school, it was necessary to avoid getting cramps.
Harry walked back up to the house, where he was informed that no one else was up yet. He walked back up to his room, and showered quickly so he could get some breakfast. He was starving.
When he entered the kitchen again, Remus was already up and drinking a steaming mug of coffee.
“Good morning, Remus,” Harry said cheerfully.
Remus glared at him. “Dear Merlin, help me. You’re a morning person,” he grumbled.
“Yup,” Harry replied. “I always have been.”
“You take after Lily. There was no getting James up until after noon during the summer,” Remus said, taking another sip of the scalding black liquid in his mug.
Harry sat down heavily on one of the chairs and poured himself a tall glass of pumpkin juice.
Jibber floated over some platters if pancakes, bacon and sausage, a bottle of maple syrup, and a bowl of scrambled eggs. Two plates appeared, one in front of Harry, and the other in front of Remus.
Both of them began loading up their plates with as much food as they could fit on them, as a yawning, pajama clad Sirius entered the room, scratching his bum.
“Mawnin,” he muttered, dropping into a chair, his head drooping as though he was too tired to hold it up.
“Good morning, Sirius,” Harry said cheerfully, snickering at Sirius’ serious case of bed head.
Sirius groaned loudly, collapsing face first onto the plate of food Remus had just served him. “You’re Lily,” he muttered.
He suddenly popped up into a sitting position when Remus pressed a steaming cup of tea into one of his hands.
Sirius quickly downed the tea, regardless of the heat.
Remus poured him another cup, as the gray-eyed Marauder began to scarf down his breakfast.
They had only just finished breakfast when Jibber suddenly appeared, holding a scroll of parchment.
“An owl is just delivering this for Harry, sir,” he said, offering it to Harry. “The owl is waiting a response in Master James’ office.”
“Thank you, Jibber,” Harry said somewhat distracted as he opened the scroll.
“I’ll show him the office in a little bit, Jibber,” Sirius said, allowing the elf to go back to what he had been doing before.
“It’s the article,” Harry said. Both men’s heads shot up. “You read it, Sirius.” He held out the scroll.
His godfather took it gingerly, as though it were a snake, and unfurling it, read…
- - -
The Boy-Who-Lived Speaks Out For the First Time
We all know the story of the boy-who-lived; how as a baby, he defeated he-who-must-not-be-named, who at the time was at the height of his power. But what happened to him afterwards? Where did he go? What has his life been like? This reporter was offered an exclusive interview with him. Given his fame, I had expected him to be larger-than-life. The Harry Potter I met, however, far surpasses my wildest expectations.
The following is my word-for-word interview with Mr. Potter.
RS: So, Mr. Potter, tell me about your childhood.
HP: Well, the important thing to remember is that there are good Muggles and bad Muggles, just as there are good wizards and bad ones. My aunt and her family are the bad kind. Up until I started school, I didn’t know what my name was. I thought it was 'Boy' or 'Freak'. I lived in the cupboard under the stairs up until I got my Hogwarts letter. That’s when my family thought they might be being watched so they gave me Dudley’s second bedroom.
RS: Did you say ‘second bedroom’?
HP: Yeah, his first bedroom was where he slept and kept most of his things, but his second bedroom was where he kept all of his broken toys and books, not that he ever read any of them.
My aunt worked me like a house-elf most of the time. ‘Work for your keep, you ungrateful brat,’ she’d say. I learned to cook by the time I was five. I could garden like a professional when I was three, and I did almost all of the cleaning. The only time I wasn’t working was when I was locked in my cupboard.
And on the occasions where I’d do accidental magic, I’d be locked in my cupboard without food for days at a time. Or if Uncle Vernon was in a really bad mood, he’d beat me up. Then I’d get in even more trouble for healing faster than I should’ve. I lost track of the number of broken bones I had before I was ten.
RS: So what kind of accidental magic did you do... besides healing yourself of course?
HP: Oh. I once turned my teacher's wig blue, shrank a hideously ugly sweater that my aunt tried to force me to wear, and I even Apparated onto the roof of my primary school’s kitchens. My cousin and his gang were chasing me, and the next thing I knew, I was up there.
RS: Really. What do you remember about your parents?
HP: Not much. I remember my Mum being murdered.
RS: What happened?
HP: Voldemort told her to step aside. He wanted to kill me, but she could’ve lived. She refused, then there was a green flash of light, and he was laughing. His laugh was high and shrill, like something out of a horror film.
RS: Do you remember anything else about your parents?
HP: Sometimes, I can almost smell her perfume. Light and flowery. And I can almost remember my dad’s laugh; he did that a lot you know... laugh. I remember my mum’s chocolate biscuits. They were the best. And my dad used to pick me up under my arms and pretend that I was flying. That’s it though.
RS: I noticed that you said You-know-who’s name, aren’t you scared?
HP: No, I’ve faced him three times and lived, why should I fear him? Besides, Dumbledore says that fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. I think everyone should call him by his name. No more of that You-know-who stuff. If people aren’t comfortable with calling him Voldemort, then they should call him ‘Tom’. That’s his real name you know, ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’. He just rearranged the letters to come up with ‘I am Lord Voldemort’. Stupid isn’t it?
RS: Now that your godfather is free, will you go to live with him?
HP: It’s what my parents wanted, and he wants me, so yeah! It beats living with the Dursleys.
RS: Tell me about Hogwarts, what do you think about it?
HP: Hogwarts, it’s my first real home. I belong there, in the magical world. I belong in a way I never knew was possible. I have friends there too. I never had any before, because Dudley would beat up anyone who was nice to me.
RS: Tell me about your friends.
HP: Well, there’s Hagrid, my first friend ever. He bought me my owl, Hedwig.
RS: Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts?
HP: Yeah, he took me shopping for my school supplies and bought me some ice cream at Florean Fortescue's.”
RS: What about people your own age?
HP: Ron Weasley and I became friends on the train to Hogwarts. He taught me about Quidditch, and told me about Chocolate Frog cards and stuff like that. It’s great.
Then there’s Hermione. She’s the smartest in our year, and she’s always pushing me and Ron to study more. She’s like – like my older sister or something. Always trying to take care of me. It’s a great feeling.
Then there’s the twins, Fred and George Weasley. When the whole school thought that I was the Heir of Slytherin. (Harry laughed here). They made fun of it, made me feel better. Like there were at least some people who knew I would never hurt anyone.
And now there’s even Ginny Weasley. She’s brilliant, as smart as Hermione, and as funny as the twins, and as loyal as Ron. I probably spent all of my time after classes ended this past term, just hanging out by the lake with her.
RS: Do you have more friends?
HP: Oh, yeah! There’s Neville Longbottom. He’s really nice. In fact, he’s even been teaching me about the different things that I have to know for when I come of age. You know, laws and things about finances. He knows a lot about it too. And there’s also Luna Lovegood. I really hate it when people tease her. She’s awfully kind; different, yes, but that’s part of what I like about her. She’s refreshing; she gives everything a different perspective.
RS: You’re also the youngest Quidditch player in a century, yes?
HP: That’s what Professor McGonagall said. Wood, my Quidditch captain, makes us train really hard. He really wants to win the Quidditch Cup before he graduates next year, and I for one am going to work my hardest to help him get it. He’s good enough to play professionally, I reckon. And we have three amazing chasers on our team: Katie, Angelina and Alicia. They can practically read each other’s minds, they’re that good. And I honestly believe that Fred and George, who are our Beaters, CAN read each other’s minds.
As soon as I leave the ground and start flying, I just feel amazing. The first time I got in the air, it was as though I’d been waiting for it all my life. I feel at peace, you know. It’s even better when I’m chasing the Snitch. Forget the other players, or even the other Seeker. It’s just me and that tiny gold ball. Everything else fades away.
RS: What do you think about your Professors?
HP: Well, Professor McGonagall is strict but fair. She seems really tough, but you can just tell that she really does care about her students. Professor Flitwick is a blast. He’s so cheerful, and he makes Charms fun. Every class with him is interesting. Professor Snape tends to favor Slytherin, but that’s not as bad as it seems. A lot of the time, it feels like it’s the rest of the school against the Slytherins and that’s not fair to them. Professor Sprout is nice, and she takes her teaching seriously. The other Professors are okay. As for the Headmaster, though, he’s not bad. I just really have issues with him knowing about my relatives’ abuse but still making me come back during the summer. Madam Pomfrey, the Healer at school, is awesome though. I really trust her, which is good because I tend to wind up in Hospital Wing a lot. (Harry laughed at this point).
RS: I understand that you have had two Defense Professors so far. What did you think about them?
HP: Well, Quirrell had Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head, so I really didn’t like him. He tried to kill me too. If it weren’t for my mother’s blood protection, I’d probably be dead. And Lockhart was terrible; he was a complete fraud. Our first class with him, he gave us a test on his books. It had questions about his favorite color and his Christmas wish, but nothing about defense. He confessed to me and my friend Ron that he interviewed other people and wrote about their accomplishments, making them seem like his own. The reason no one ever came forward about it was because he Obliviated them all. He tried to Obliviate us too, but he was using Ron’s broken wand, and the spell backfired, erasing his memories instead. Poetic justice if you ask me.
RS: Given everything you’ve been through at Hogwarts, do you feel safe there?
HP: I don’t really feel safe anywhere. I mean, the person who betrayed my parents was living as a rat in my friend Ron’s house. I was nearly murdered by a Professor, and another one tried to erase my memories. I don’t trust the Headmaster, because what kind of a person would make a child live with people who abuse him. I trust my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, my godfather Sirius, Remus Lupin, Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall. I don’t really trust anyone else, because I either don’t know them well enough, or they’ve betrayed me in some way.
Actually, I also trust Madam Bones. She seems really smart, and she truly wants to see justice done. And I also trust Griphook, a Goblin at Gringotts; Dobby, the house-elf who saved my life; and also Firenze, a Centaur who saved my life.
RS: Really? But they’re not human.
HP: So what? Griphook knows a lot about finances, and I know I can trust him with mine. Firenze saved me from being attacked by Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, and Dobby warned me that someone was going to do something at Hogwarts this past year. What does it matter that they aren’t human?
RS: (Harry had his godfather, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin with him) You do know that Mr. Lupin is a werewolf, don’t you?
HP: Really? (Harry said to Mr. Lupin who simply nodded). Oh. So what? He’s only a werewolf during the full moon, and I know him enough to know that he’d lock himself up during those times, so he’s not a risk. It isn’t his fault he was bitten. (Harry shrugged).
RS: Do you have anything else you’d like to add?
HP: Not that I’m aware of.
After the interview came to a close, my curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to do an in depth investigation into his life with his aunt. What I found was a home that held no sign of his ever having lived there. There wasn’t even a photo of him in the house.
When I looked inside the cupboard under the stairs, my eyes met a most horrifying sight. I found a rickety and bare cot with not a sheet on it. A childhood drawing was pinned to the wall with a thumbtack. The picture showed a small boy with green eyes and black hair standing with his arms outstretched towards a man also with black hair and a woman with red. Written at the bottom in a childish scrawl were the words ‘My parents’.
The mattress told an even worse story than the drawing did; there were stains on it that could only have been bodily fluids, including copious amounts of blood and vomit. I wouldn’t have expected a room like this for even the most abused house elf.
Upon questioning the neighbors, I found out that Harry was the only member of that family ever seen doing any work. Worse yet, the neighbors had been told by his aunt that Harry was going to a school for ‘Incurably Criminal Boys’.
The words, ‘Dudley’s second bedroom’ led me upstairs. I found a master bedroom, a guest bedroom, Dudley’s bedroom, and a room with nothing more that a small bed with an ancient mattress (also with blood stains and no sheets), an empty wardrobe, dresser, a scratched up desk, a chair that had uneven legs, and one small shelf on the wall.
More horrifying than even this, was the bedroom door. I had noticed a small lock on the door to the cupboard under the stairs and thought nothing of it. The bedroom door however, had four different locks on it, and a cat flap. However, the family doesn’t have a pet. This leads to questions I dare not ask in fear of what the response would inevitably be.
Upon examining the outside of the house, I noticed some damage to Harry’s window frame. Damage that could only have come from a set of iron bars being ripped away, but there was no sign of any other window having had bars in the past. Why would someone bar a single window on the second story? It was obviously not to keep someone out, but rather, to keep someone in.
The evidence points to nothing less than neglect and abuse. Yet despite all the odds, Harry is a most extraordinary young man. He is not blinded by the prejudices that are so common in our world. And, unlike most others, he is brave enough to insult Voldemort.
Harry should be an inspiration to all of us. He is to me. I will no longer cower in fear of saying the name Voldemort. I vow to treat Goblins, Centaurs, Giants, Elves, Veelas, and all other beings as my equals. I ask all of my readers to do the same, in honor of this amazing and powerful young man.
By Rita Skeeter
- - -
‘Wow,’ Harry thought to himself. ‘That’s better than I’d expected.’
Sirius looked up from the article and said, “I think this is perfect. You should sign it, and send it back to her.”
“Yes,” Remus agreed. “This could do a lot to change our world for the better.”
So Harry signed the parchment, and Sirius showed him the office that Jibber had mentioned.
Harry was pleased to find a plank spot on the wall above the fireplace, which would be perfect for Godric’s portrait.
Tibby was sent to get the Auror trunk from Remus’ room.
He had shrunk it down in the vault yesterday and placed it in his pocket, but he forgot all about it until he was getting ready for bed.
Tibby popped into the room and placed the tiny trunk on the floor then she popped out again.
“Engorgio,” Remus said, pointing his wand at it.
Sirius popped open the top and stepped back so Remus could climb in.
A minute later, Remus climbed back out, carrying Godric and complaining about lazy mutts.
“I’d thought you boys had forgotten all about me for a while there,” Godric said as Remus hung him up. “It’s nice to be here. By the way, there wouldn’t happen to be any portraits of some beautiful women anywhere in this manor, would there?” he asked hopefully.
Sirius grinned. “Sure, just check on the third floor in the east wing.”
“Thanks,” Godric said and left through the left side of his frame.
Sirius suddenly began to grin even more. “It’s time we took you shopping Harry,” he said.
“Why? I have plenty of clothes,” Harry said.
“Not robes,” Remus said.
“And you might think that you have enough clothes, but you don’t,” Sirius said. “We also need to take you to an optometrist to get your eyes checked out. The Dursleys,” he spat the name, “never took you for any check-ups, did they?”
Harry blushed.
“I also need new robes,” Sirius said. He turned suddenly and appraised Remus. “So does Remus,” he added.
“Ha-ha,” Harry said, grinning at the werewolf.
Remus blushed. “No I don’t. Besides I can’t afford any,” he muttered.
Harry shook his head. “Not true. My tutor in all things magical and legal needs to be dressed appropriately, and as such, is going to be paid a fair bit of money,” he said. “We’ll have to arrange that at Gringotts.”
Sirius grinned. “See Remus, now you have no excuse. You know Harry needs that tutoring. The Dursleys wouldn’t teach him anything useful in our world even if their lives depended on it.”
Remus rolled his eyes and moaned out, “Fine.”
When he turned around to leave the room, Sirius and Harry high-fived each other behind his back.
“I saw that!” he said from the hallway.
“How did he do that?” Sirius and Harry said together.
- - -
After completing their business in Gringotts, Remus led the way to Madam Malkin’s Robes For All Occasions.
Sirius and Harry were walking about ten feet in back of him when Sirius whispered, “Then we’ll buy dung-bombs, and…”
“No you won’t,” Remus called out without turning around.
Sirius’ jaw fell open.
Again, both he and Harry said, “How did he do that?”
Remus held open the door of the shop for the other two, and he flicked Sirius on the back of his head as he walked past.
“OW!” Sirius moaned loudly, rubbing the back of his head.
Remus was looking at robes for Harry on the other side of the room when Sirius muttered, “Damn werewolf,” under his breath.
“Sirius!” Remus snapped, “Watch your language!”
“How did he do that?”
Harry shrugged and joined Remus, looking through the racks.
After trying on what Harry believed to be half the store, the other half being women’s clothes, they still only had three robes for Harry. At last, Madam Malkin offered to custom make some, and the hunt began all over again, but for the adults this time.
Sirius was on his twenty-fifth robe in gray, the color Madam Malkin’s assistance kept foisting on him, when Remus came in carrying ten more gray robes that he hadn’t tried on yet.
Remus dumped the load onto the bench in the fitting room and left again.
“Sometimes, I think Remus is woman trapped in a man’s body,” Sirius muttered to a grinning Harry.
“I heard that, and it won’t go unpunished!” Remus called out from the front of the store.
“How did he do that?” Harry said loudly.
True to his word, Remus came back with twenty more gray robes for Sirius to try on that had been in the back store-room.
“Have fun trying on your punishment,” Remus said cheerfully as he dumped the load right onto Sirius’ head.
Harry barely held back a snicker.
Sirius whispered to Harry in the quietest voice he could manage, “I’ll get my revenge on him when it’s his turn, just you wait.”
“No you won’t!” Remus called out from the front of the store.
“How did he do that?” the assistant said from the corner where she was re-hanging robes.
A half hour later, Remus called out, “I’m heading down to Fortescue’s to pick up some sandwiches for us. Keep trying on clothes, Sirius!” They heard the bell ring as the mature Marauder left the store.
Ten minutes later, Sirius whispered, “He’s got to be across the alley by now. What say we sneak out of here to check out Gambol and Jape’s?”
Harry nodded, but they hadn’t gotten two steps from the fitting room when a loud Sonorused voice bellowed, “DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT SNEAKING OUT OF THAT SHOP, PADFOOT!”
“HOW DID HE DO THAT?” the pair said, staring at each other with mouths agape.
Remus returned from the ice-cream parlor smirking wildly. “You two are too easy,” he muttered.
Sirius and Harry stared in shock.
“Check your right pocket, Padfoot,” Remus said, still smirking.
Sirius stuck his hand in and pulled out a mirror. “Hey! This isn’t my hand-mirror, this is…”
“One of yours’ and James’ two-way mirrors,” Remus said, fishing the mate to it out of his own pocket.
“I hate you, sometimes,” Sirius said with loathing.
“I love you too, Padfoot,” Remus said, now looking at a set of crisp brown robes.
- - -
Remus had enjoyed his prank, but now it was time to get some serious shopping done.
“There is no way in Merlin’s most favorite swimming hole am I going to own nothing but gray robes!” Sirius yelled at the shop assistant.
“But… they’re different shades of gray,” the woman said. “And they match your beautiful eyes.”
Sirius’ eyes widened. For the first time since entering the shop, he realized that the assistant was in fact a beautiful young woman around the age of twenty-five.
Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her long bangs were falling into her silvery-blue eyes. She had a clear complexion of creamy skin and rosy cheeks, and a small mouth with naturally very pink lips.
His jaw hit the floor. “I… um… I’ll take the gray silk dress robes, the dark gray outer cloak, and the silver shirt, but the rest of my clothes I want in various shades of blue, red, brown, and even some in black, and white. No more gray though.”
She smiled, as the gray clothes he had picked were the ones she liked the best. “Alright,” she said.
“What’s your name by the way? I didn’t catch it earlier,” Sirius asked.
“Casey,” she replied, “Casey Meyers.”
“How about I take you out to dinner in Muggle London tomorrow night,” Sirius asked, grinning hopefully.
Casey blushed bright pink and said, “I’d like that.” She smiled up at him.
“Great,” he said softly.
“I — I’ll just go get some clothes in those other colors for you to try on,” she said as she left the fitting room.
Harry and Remus wolf whistled at Sirius, who was still staring at the curtained doorway. Sirius’ head snapped around, and he glared at the other two.
“Can it,” he muttered.
The other two snickered.
“Here you are,” Casey said, entering with her arms full of blue robes. “Try these on while I search for the red ones.”
“Thanks,” Sirius said, grinning madly.
She smiled slightly in response and left the room.
Madam Malkin reentered the fitting room as Casey left. “Damn pure-blood bigots,” she muttered under her breath.
“Who are you talking about,” Remus asked, frowning.
Madam Malkin knelt and began pinning up Harry’s emerald robes as she responded, “The Malfoys, who else. That brat of theirs was in here wanting to buy the emerald robes he saw in here last week, incidentally these were the ones he wanted.” She pointed at the very robes she was pinning. “He threw an awful temper tantrum when I told him they were sold.”
“Why couldn’t we hear him? The curtain isn’t that thick,” Sirius said, confused.
“I placed a silencing spell on these rooms, ages ago. You can only hear the people out there that you know are here. They can’t hear anything at all,” she explained. She smiled up at Harry. “It was a charm your mother created just for me, when I complained about the noise to her during one of her fittings for her wedding robes. She created it in less than a week.”
“Really?” Harry asked. “That was really nice of her.”
“Yes it was,” Madam Malkin agreed. “She was the nicest person I’ve ever met. Your father could be the same way when the mood hit him, but Merlin forbid you get on his bad side.”
Harry smiled a little sadly. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this the first time I came here?” he asked sadly.
She suddenly looked up in surprise. “I thought you already knew all about your parents, and hearing more about them would upset you.”
“I don’t know much about them at all,” Harry said.
“Well then, let me tell you about the time that these two,” she jerked her head at Sirius and Remus, “and your father were in here shopping for dress robes for their graduation ball.”
Harry grinned. “That would be great!”
Remus and Sirius both groaned.
“Well, your father desperately wanted to impress your mother who had written to Mr. Lupin, here, to find out if he was Head Boy,” she began.
“But my dad was. Wait. How come she thought you were Head Boy, Remus?” Harry asked.
“Oh,” Remus said. “Your father and Sirius were both very irresponsible.”
“What Remus means to say is that we were a bit bullying towards Snape and, well, Slytherins in general,” Sirius interjected.
“So that’s why he hates me!” Harry said. “I remind him of the person who bullied him!”
“Erm, yes,” Sirius said, “Back to the explanation.”
“I was always more responsible than them and I guess Dumbledore thought I would be able to curb their wild tendencies if I had the Prefect badge, but I wasn’t able to do that,” Remus said. “Anyway, by the end of sixth year, James was maturing rapidly, and he had already shown to be a leader among the other students. Added to that was the fact that he was top in our year except in Charms and Potions, which was where Lily excelled.”
“At any rate,” Madam Malkin continued, “She had told Mr. Lupin what day and time she was doing her shopping.”
“She wanted to talk about Prefect business and such,” Remus explained.
She continued as though he hadn’t interrupted her. “And your father somehow got a hold of that letter.”
“He stole it out of Remus’ trunk,” Sirius said.
“So he wanted to be trying on his dress robes to impress her when she showed up.”
“This is where she wanted to meet up with me,” Remus added.
Madam Malkin helped Harry out of the emerald robe and into the bright blue one. “Anyway, Mr. Black had already paid for his robes, black with silver accents, when your father decided to try on a pair of robes that were bright red with gold accents.”
She knelt to start pinning up the hem of the blue robes. “When this idiot,” she nodded in Sirius’ direction, “decided to play a prank on your father. He cast a color changing charm on your dad’s hair, turning it bubblegum pink.”
“I got the idea from my little cousin, Dora, who’s a Metamorphmagus,” Sirius said.
“Your dad turned to face the mirror to see if he liked the way the robes looked on him, and he noticed his hair.” She began pinning up the sleeves now. “He saw his hair and he let out this wild yell. I swear that half the alley could hear him. So he started chasing Mr. Black, and just as he finished hexing his hair into a Mohawk.”
“It looked terrible,” Remus added.
“Your mother walked in with her friend Alice. She took one look at James and started yelling at him. She called him an immature brat. Then he HAD to ask her out, mid-tirade as it was. She then said, ‘I would rather kiss a Basilisk than go out with you!’.”
Harry’s eyes widened.
“Well, your dad looked crestfallen. Everyone in the magical world knew that he had fancied her from the moment he first saw her. She was trying on robes for her first year at Hogwarts when he came in with his parents. He took one look at her and suddenly said, ‘Wow, you’re beautiful! Marry me?’”
Harry’s jaw dropped.
“Your mother wasn’t one to mince words. She just said, ‘I have no idea who you are, and I don’t care to find out. Drop dead.’”
Harry was now in a state of shock, and stood frozen for several minutes until Sirius yelled, “Look, a red-head!” in his ear.
Harry’s head shot to look toward the curtain. Then he looked at Sirius and said, “That was a cruel trick.”
“It always worked on James too.” Sirius sighed in remembrance. “So, who is this red-head that you fancy?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry said aloofly.
“I bet it’s that Weasley girl who was at Pettigrew’s trial. Am I right,” Remus asked.
Harry turned red but didn’t answer. “Please continue the story, Madam Malkin.”
Both Marauders began laughing at him as she continued.
“Where was I? Oh, yes, your dad looked heartbroken. He just looked at her sadly and said, ‘As you wish. I won’t ask again.’” She helped Harry out of the blue robe and into the black one. “Your mother stood there in shock for about ten minutes. Then she slowly started to look through the racks of women’s dress robes with a puzzled look on her face. Meanwhile, I was pinning up the red robes for your father. He looked so depressed, and nothing either of these two,” she jerked her head at the Marauders again, “fools did could faze him.”
Harry pulled off the robes, and Madam Malkin began to pin up Sirius’ robes. “Well, at last, about twenty minutes later, your dad was paying for his robes when she just walked up to him and said, ‘What’s the catch?’. To which he said, ‘I beg your pardon.’ She stared at him. ‘You never give up,’ she said. Your father got a sad look on his face. ‘Maybe I’m growing up, and finally realizing that the best way to show you that I love you is by giving you exactly what you want, me to stop asking you out,’ he said.”
Harry watched her as she worked. “So what happened next?”
“You’ll have to ask these two. Next thing I knew, your mom was shopping here for a set of dress robes for the Potter’s annual Christmas party which she was going to as your dad’s girlfriend,” she finished.
Harry stared at Sirius.
Sirius sighed. “Your dad was true to his word. He stopped asking her out. Hell, he stopped talking to her unless it was about school or Head duties. I think it unnerved her. For six years James had been chasing her and just like that, he stopped.”
Remus continued. “Then on the second Hogsmeade weekend of the year in late November, Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade. Your mum fought brilliantly. James too, but he was trying to get the younger ones back to the school. Once they were safely there, he fought Death Eaters to get to Lily’s side. He was going to try to get her to the castle next. Only, the Death Eaters ganged up on them, and managed to disarm them. Then…” he couldn’t finish.
“Then,” Sirius said, “Voldemort showed up. He walked straight over to your mum and dad and offered them their lives for their service. He wanted them to become Death Eaters. Well, Lily up said, ‘Go to hell where you belong!’ Needless to say, he did not take that well. James was about ten feet away from her at that point. Voldemort cast the Cruciatus curse at her, and she went down screaming. It took ten Death Eaters to hold James back from physically attacking Voldemort at that point.”
Remus nodded. “Then Voldemort cast the cutting curse at Lily. James went into a blind rage, and I don’t know how, but he threw off all of the Death Eaters and leapt between the curse and Lily. It cut him from here to here,” Remus indicated the spot where his neck met his shoulder, and slashed his hand at angle crossing over his heart.
“Then it was Lily’s turn to go into a blind rage,” Sirius said. “She dove at the Death Eater, who was holding their wands, and she grabbed them, punching the Death Eater in the process… she punched him hard, too. Then she leapt at Voldemort himself. He held still for some reason, probably in shock by her actions. And she cast the cutting curse at point-blank range. She cast it in exactly the place his curse had hit James.”
“And?” Harry asked.
“She began to cast as many healing charms as she could on James as the Death Eaters apparated away with Voldemort. Dumbledore arrived moments later and brought them both to Hospital Wing,” Remus said. “Lily never left his side, and the moment he woke up, she told him that she loved him, and if he still wanted her, he had her.”
Sirius grinned. “James stared at her in shock for ten minutes, your mum was getting scared by then too, and then he grabbed her and kissed her as passionately as he could. He shouted, ‘Hell yes, I want you!’”
“She just grinned wildly. And the rest, as they say, is history,” Remus finished.
“Wow!” Harry said in shock. For the first time in his life, he knew something about his parents’ lives, other than their looks and that his dad owned an invisibility cloak.
The rest of their fittings were done in silence as Harry tried to come to terms with what he had just found out.
“Snape was right,” Harry said finally. “My dad was a bully. Was he also attention-seeking and arrogant? I need to know the truth, guys,” he said, somewhat sadly.
Both Marauders looked somewhat ashamed of themselves.
Finally, Remus spoke, “Yeah, he was.”
“We all were,” Sirius said, “except Peter, but that was really because he was the tag-along, wanting to be next to those in the limelight.”
Harry nodded his head in understanding. “Damn! Now I owe Snape an apology!” he said suddenly, making Sirius guffaw and Remus stifle a laugh.
- - -
After a brief stop at Darkness Defied to pick up three wand holsters, one each, the three of them were ready to leave Diagon Alley.
When they left the Leaky Cauldron for Muggle London, Harry said, “So… Where do we go to go shopping?” He stared at everything going on around him.
Remus and Sirius exchanged looks. “Haven’t you ever gone shopping in Muggle London before?” Remus asked.
Harry shook his head.
“Have you ever gone shopping in the Muggle world at all?” Sirius asked, hopefully.
“No,” Harry said. “Well… unless you count the times I tagged along when Aunt Petunia was shopping for Dudley, but even then we had to go to the ‘special stores’,” he made quotation marks with his fingers and continued, “because Dudley is too large for normal sized clothes. And of course, I just went shopping by myself in Little Whinging.”
“Well, this should be fun,” Sirius said, grinning madly and rubbing his palms together in glee.
Sirius took off down the street, and Remus and Harry hurried to keep up with him.
“Good Godric, here we go again,” Remus muttered as he grabbed Harry’s hand to keep them from getting separated in the crowd.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked as they hurried after Sirius.
“I think Sirius was a woman in another life. He loves shopping WAY too much.”
Harry laughed even as the pair ran after Sirius.
At long last, Sirius stopped in front of a large, high-end department store, and Remus and Harry came to a stop behind him. Remus at last let go of Harry’s hand, which was good because it was starting to make Harry feel like a toddler.
Remus was panting a bit from running, but Harry was not. He supposed that it was due to spending half his life running from either Dudley or Uncle Vernon, and another quarter of it running from Voldemort.
“Ah, bliss…” Sirius sighed, gazing in the window of the department store. “Let’s go!” he said to the pair beside him.
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes as he entered the store.
“Can I help you?” a very austere woman in a black pinstripe suit asked. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, so tight that it gave her a face-lift.
“Yes,” Sirius said. “All three of us are in need of new wardrobes. Well… the small one has some decent clothes already but not much,” he added as he ruffled Harry’s hair.
Harry blushed and pushed Sirius’ hand away, making the thirty-three year old man grin.
She gave them a tight smile. “Of course,” she murmured, eyeing them.
Remus was wearing a well worn pair of khakis and a short-sleeved blue button down shirt that showed the many scars on his arms. She sneered slightly then turned to Sirius, who had borrowed some of Remus’ clothes for the day, a white shirt and brown pants. Then she eyed Harry, who was wearing a white tee-shirt under a red button down shirt and a pair of khakis.
“At least one of you is wearing clothes that are less than five years old,” she said. “What styles are you looking for?”
Sirius grinned. “Remus,” he waved his hand at the werewolf, “will want a full wardrobe in a ‘young professor’ style.”
She nodded.
“I am looking for clothes in a thirty-something rebel look with a touch of class thrown in,” he said.
She arched a brow but said nothing.
“And Harry here,” Sirius threw an arm over his godson’s shoulders, “will want a cross between the two of us in style.”
Harry nodded enthusiastically.
“Right then,” she said, turning, “let’s get started! My name is Carol, by the way.”
The three followed her into the fitting rooms.
“I imagine that you,” she indicated Sirius, “Will want a black leather jacket, lots of black jeans, tee-shirts in various colors, and for more formal occasions, a silver silk pin-stripe Armani suit paired with black shirt, worn open collar, and a black fedora.”
As she said this, her assistants entered the room with examples of what she was talking about.
“Make it two suits, one in black silk as well,” Sirius said, “I love the hat, and no ties sound perfect. Do you have any leather jackets with chains or studs?”
Carol smirked. “Of course,” she said.
“The jeans need to be fitted, as I have a motorcycle and ride it often,” he said. “And I’ll want a few blazers and dress slacks for business meetings.”
She arched a brow.
“Managing my finances and my godson’s inheritance,” he added. Sirius really wasn’t the business type and it showed.
After they had picked out a wide assortment of clothes for Sirius and tried everything on, Carol began eyeing Harry. “How old are you? Ten?” she asked.
“Twelve, actually,” he said, “nearly thirteen. I’m small for my age.”
“That will be changing soon,” Sirius said seriously for once.
Carol nodded. “A tailored black leather jacket, no chains or studs,” she said, her eyes glazing over, not unlike Luna Lovegood’s. “Tailored jeans, a few pairs of dress slacks, two Armani suits, no ties,” her assistants were scurrying about, “silk button down shirts, a few knit shirts, a fedora in dark green,” she stared at Harry’s eyes. “And of course, some cotton button down shirts, and some tee-shirts to match. Also, grab a brown leather jacket as well as the black,” she smiled. “This one is going to be lady-killer, I can tell.”
Sirius began to laugh. “He’s taken!”
“Shut up, Sirius!” Harry moaned.
“Indeed?” Carol asked. “She is a lucky young woman then. Beautiful?”
Harry blushed. “Gorgeous, actually,” he muttered. “Long red hair, brown eyes, a year younger than me…”
“And she has six older brothers…” Remus added, grinning.
“Erm,” Harry paled. “Yeah, that too.”
Carol gave a tight little smile, though it was genuine. “Then, perhaps it is you who is lucky.”
Harry nodded.
Carol soon began to evaluate Remus. “You are the same age as your friend?” she asked.
Remus nodded.
“And he has a young woman to impress,” Harry said, smirking. Remus turned red. “Sirius’ cousin, actually,” Harry continued. As Sirius turned an odd shade of puce, Harry whispered, “Vengeance is sweet,” in Remus’ ear.
“Nymphadora?” Sirius squeaked out.
“The one and only,” Harry said.
“Wow! Um… Wow!” Sirius said. “I’m not gonna think about it; I’m not gonna think about it…” he muttered under his breath as Carol began to evaluate the other man.
“Lots of blazers in brown, beige, khaki, and gold. You have beautiful eyes,” she muttered. “Button-down shirts in white, red, gold, chocolate,” Remus’ gold eyes glinted, thinking of his favorite food as Carol continued, “orange, beige, and well…every color in between. He’s an autumn.”
The two Marauders and Harry all looked confused, but apparently the assistants knew what Carol meant.
“And lots of ties for this one,” she continued. “He’ll need some dress slacks to go with the blazers, and five suits.”
Remus’ brows rose. “Five?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “You are definitely the professor type.”
At long last, they left the store. Remus and Harry were contemplating the couch in the upstairs living room at the manor, and a couple of defense books when Sirius said, “Now, for shoes!”
Both of them moaned, but obediently followed him.
Sirius insisted Harry choose a pair of combat boots, dress boots, and a pair of brown dress shoes (as he already had black). Remus was forced to buy the same as Harry, but also black dress shoes, loafers, and new trainers also.
Sirius bought the exact same things Remus did except for the loafers. Sirius shuddered at the sight of them.
Then, at long last, Harry and Remus were able to drag Sirius back to the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron to go home.
- - -
Ginny was lying on her back on her bed, and holding Harry’s first year defense book open in the air. She hummed under her breath as she read.
Tap, tap, tap.
She sat up suddenly, placing her feet on the floor. “Hedwig!” she said, setting aside the book.
She hurried to the window and let the beautiful snowy owl in.
Hedwig landed gracefully on Ginny’s arm.
Ginny hurried downstairs to the kitchen. “Mum!” she said. “Can I have an owl treat to give Hedwig?”
Molly looked up from the dough she was kneading, and saw the owl on her daughter’s arm. “Help yourself, dear,” she said.
“Thanks Mum,” Ginny said, walking over to the pantry and pulling a box off a shelf. She lowered her arm so Hedwig could step onto the back of one of the chairs, then pulled a treat out of the box and held it out to the owl. Hedwig gave it a nibble then plucked it out of Ginny’s hand completely.
While Hedwig enjoyed her snack, Ginny removed a thick parchment envelope from the owl’s leg. She popped open the wax seal, and pulled out the paper within. It read in beautiful blue ink…
Dear Red,
I just wanted to let you know that a kidnapping is not necessary. Remus brought Sirius with him to the park today and boy were they mad at my relatives. Sirius adopted me today at Gringotts and I was emancipated. That means that I am legally Sirius’ son, and legally an adult in this world, meaning no restriction for underage wizardry.
There will be an article in the Prophet on Saturday about my life. You may want to warn your dad because, knowing your mum, she’s going to want to kill the Dursleys.
By the way, you know how my dad was called Prongs… he was a stag animagus. Sirius is Padfoot, a dog animagus, and Remus is Moony, a werewolf (don’t tell anyone else, especially not Gred and Forge).
Tell Ron and the twins that I said hi and will be writing to them later on. I just had to let you know about Sirius.
I miss you loads,
Harry
She smiled gently. Sirius had taken him away from the awful Dursleys. For that, Ginny decided, she would have to buy Sirius a chew toy.
“Well?” Molly Weasley asked, “What did he say?”
“Hmm,” Ginny said looking up, “He was just letting me know that he had a nice visit with some friends of his father’s and asked me to tell the boys ‘hi’ for him and that he’ll write them later.”
“Oh, that’s nice of him to write to you,” Molly said. “I imagine you will be writing him back.”
“Of course, Mum. He is my friend, after all,” Ginny replied, smiling.
Molly Weasley smiled as well. After everything that had happened this last year, she had been worried that Ginny would become depressed and pull away from the family. Not for the first time, Molly said a traditional wizarding blessing for Harry in thanks for what he had done. He had given her daughter back to her.
Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Shocks, And More Shopping
“MERLIN’S MOST HOLEY UNDERGARMENTS!” Sirius yelled.- - -
Ten minutes ago…
Sirius grunted as Remus shoved a cup of scalding tea into his hand. Harry imagined that the grunt was actually Sirius saying ‘Thanks’.
Sirius had dragged himself downstairs not two minutes before, garbed in his favorite red and gold silk pajamas. He was apparently too lazy to even pull on a dressing gown when he first got up.
Moony and Harry exchanged looks of amusement.
“FOOD!” Sirius yelled suddenly when Jibber placed a plate in front of him. Sirius had just finished his second plate of pancakes when an owl pecked at the window. Jibber let the owl in, and it flew straight to Sirius.
Sirius looked annoyed, but took the letter. “Give the bird an owl treat, would you Jibber,” he muttered as he popped open the Ministry of Magic’s seal. He yawned slightly as he started to read the letter. His eyes widened and began to move faster, flicking back-and-forth as he read.
- - -
Present time…
“What do Merlin’s undergarments have to do with anything, Padfoot?” Remus asked, munching on a piece of bacon.
Sirius’ mouth was hanging open in shock. “Since my cousin Narcissa has been convicted of harboring a Death Eater, and her husband Lucius Malfoy has been convicted of being a Death Eater, as head of the Black family I now have custody of their son…”
“Draco,” Harry groaned. “That figures.”
“I’m supposed to pick him up at the Ministry sometime this afternoon when they are done questioning him about his parents,” Sirius said. “He has a godfather but it’s Snape, and he’s still on probation with the Ministry.”
“Yes,” Remus said, “The only reason Snape isn’t in Azkaban for being a Death Eater is because he turned spy and Dumbledore vouched for him after you destroyed Voldemort, Harry.” He paused a moment, then said, “I wonder what Draco is like,” his brow furrowed.
“Every other word is what his dad says, it’s like he doesn’t know how to think for himself,” Harry said. “He also called Hermione a Mudblood last year.”
“Are you okay with him coming here, Harry, or would you rather I take him somewhere else,” Sirius asked, looking concerned.
Harry looked thoughtful for a long moment. “If he’s anything like Dudley, then he’s just saying what he’s heard all his life, and doesn’t know any better. If we bring him here, maybe we can show him the truth about Muggles and Muggleborns. Teach him to think for himself. Mind you, it won’t be easy,” Harry said.
Sirius looked green. “He sounds like my brother, Regulus.”
“You have a brother?” Harry asked in shock.
“Had,” Sirius said. “He turned his back on me when I was sorted into Gryffindor. The Blacks are a lot like the Malfoys, Slytherin to the core. My whole family shunned me after I was sorted into Gryffindor. Anyway, Reggie joined the Death Eaters when he finished at Hogwarts. He changed his mind and did something to piss off Voldemort though, because a year later he was murdered by him.”
Harry looked thoughtful. “So if Regulus could change, doesn’t that mean that Draco could too?”
“Yes, Harry, it does,” Remus said, smiling kindly. “You are very much Lily’s son. She always felt that Snape could turn to the light, and he did.”
Harry blushed, ducking his head.
Sirius sighed. “Well, it looks like we’re going to have an addition to our family. After all, it isn’t the little snot’s fault that his parents are Pureblood Supremists who taught him that he was better than everyone else when he’s not.” Sirius stood from the table. “I’m going to go get dressed, then I think we’d better spend the morning finishing our shopping as we won’t want to do it when Draco gets here.” He left the room.
“More shopping,” Harry groaned.
“We still have to take you to the Optometrist. We didn’t have time yesterday,” Remus said.
Harry nodded his head. “Oh,” he said suddenly, “Tibby!”
“Yes, Master Harry,” the elf said happily. “What is you wanting Tibby to do?”
“Could you prepare a room for Draco Malfoy who will be living with us now?” Harry said. “Something in green and silver would be best.”
“I is doing it for Master,” Tibby said, and disappeared with a pop.
“That was very kind of you, Harry,” Remus said softly, smiling proudly at the teen.
“I just figured… it’ll be a shock, you know, suddenly going from the spoiled prince to a convict’s son,” Harry explained. “Everything is changing for him, and he needs someplace where he can still be ‘just Draco’. The Burrow and now here as well are my places to be ‘just Harry’.”
“I understand,” the werewolf said. “You don’t have to be The-Boy-Who-Lived here…”
Harry snorted, “Or ‘Slytherin’s heir’.”
Remus smiled in remembrance of Harry telling them about the past two years. “And you want Draco to have a place where he’s not ‘the convicts’ son’.”
“Exactly,” Harry said.
“That’s very…” Sirius said, entering the room having heard the end of the conversation, “…what’s that word Moony?”
“Which word were you thinking of?” Remus said, frowning.
“The ‘m’ one,” Sirius frowned as he thought.
“Magnanimous?” Remus asked.
“That’s it!” Sirius said, “That’s very magnanimous of you, Harry.”
“Thanks,” Harry replied. “Are we ready to go then?” he asked, arching a brow in question.
“Yes, Harry, we’re ready to go,” Sirius said.
Harry grinned and bounced out of his seat.
- - -
Sirius opened the glass door to the Optometrist’s office to the sound of a tinkling bell. He ushered Harry in with a hand on his shoulder. “He should be here…” Sirius started to say.
“Mr. Black!” someone said suddenly, not unlike Mr. Ollivander did. It was a man with brittle graying hair, chocolate skin, and he was wearing vibrant orange robes. “I haven’t seen you since the last time James Potter came in for a new prescription.”
“Hello, Mr. Glass,” Sirius said. “We’re here because Harry needs his eyes examined, and he needs a new pair of glasses and perhaps some contacts as well.”
Mr. Glass smiled. “This should be fun,” he said gleefully. Harry was more than a little scared from the way the man was rubbing his hands together. “Well… Sit down then,” the man said, indicating a chair at a small table.
Harry sighed and flopped down onto the seat.
“So, when was your last visit with an Optometrist?” Mr. Glass asked.
“Erm,” Harry said, blushing, “I was five…”
Mr. Glass’ eyes widened. “That is outrageous!” he snapped. “What were your guardians thinking?”
“They weren’t, obviously,” Remus said wryly.
An hour later, the trio was picking out a new set of frames for Harry. They ultimately decided on a pair of round silver frames, and two sets of contacts. One set was brown and the other clear.
After his customers had made their selections, Mr. Glass said, “Do you want any extra charms on the glasses and contacts?”
Harry looked up at Remus and Sirius to see their reactions. Both men looked thoughtful.
“Can we see a list to choose from?” Sirius said.
“Well, Padfoot, you can see a list I’m sure, but the question is ‘May you?’” Remus said, smirking. He took every opportunity to correct Sirius’ grammar, if only to annoy him.
Sirius stuck his tongue out at the werewolf as he accepted the placard that Mr. Glass handed him. Both Marauders looked over the list and began to debate the merits of each Charm.
“No, Padfoot, we are not going to have one put on that will allow Harry to see through things! He’s a teenager, and the last thing we want is for him to get in trouble with Dumbledore for looking through the girls’ clothes,” Remus argued.
As Sirius began to contest that statement, Harry rolled his eyes and said, “Mr. Glass, they’ll be at this all day. May I see a copy of that list?”
“Of course, Mr. Potter,” was the reply.
The extra charms were Impervious, Stick-on, Never-break, See-through, Aura-sight, Zoom-in, Anti-fog, Night-vision, Sun-shade, Auto-adjust prescription, Poison-detection, Ward-sight, and Magic-sight.
Harry gave a low whistle. “Has anyone ever gotten all of these done?” Sirius and Remus were still arguing in the background.
Mr. Glass chuckled. “Mad-Eye did.”
“Who’s Mad-Eye?”
“You were raised by Muggles, right?” Mr. Glass asked.
“How’d you know?” Harry frowned.
“My nephew, Lee Jordan…”
“Is in Gryffindor and just finished his fourth year,” Harry finished.
“Yes. Mad-Eye is an infamous Auror,” Mr. Glass answered. At Harry’s confused look, he said, “An Auror is like a Muggle policeman.” Harry looked confused again. “I took Muggle Studies at Hogwarts. Anyway, Mad-Eye Moody has the highest record for the most criminals captured during his tenure. He had to beat your grandfather’s record to do it.” He paused, “So have you made a decision?”
“Yeah, I’m never taking these two anywhere ever again,” Harry replied dryly, indicating the men who were still arguing.
“Hey!” both Marauders responded.
“Okay,” Harry said, getting down to business, “I want the Impervious, Stick-on, Never-break, Aura-sight, Zoom-in, Anti-fog, Night-vision, Sun-shade, Auto-adjust prescription, Poison-detection, Ward-sight, and Magic-sight.”
“In other words, everything but the See-through charm,” Mr. Glass responded, smiling.
“Yep, no point in giving anyone a reason to think bad of me,” Harry said.
“Excellent! I’ll have these done for you in two hours,” Mr. Glass said, as he went into the back room.
“So, what do we do now?” Harry asked.
“We get to go to the bank to set up Remy’s salary,” Sirius looked excited at this prospect.
“Padfoot,” Remus groaned. “I don’t…”
“Shut up, Moony,” Sirius and Harry said together.
Sirius continued, “Harry needs the tutoring and you need a job, we’re killing two Fwoopers with one curse.”
Harry snickered at the wizarding version of a common Muggle saying. “Come on, let’s go,” he said finally, dragging both men by their arms out of the store.
Sirius and Remus exchanged looks and followed their young charge. Harry dragged them into the bank and up to one of the counters.
“Yes,” the Goblin said tersely.
“We’d like to see Griphook please,” Sirius said.
The Goblin sneered and called out, “Legcrusher, Take these wizards to Griphook’s office.”
Legcrusher barely looked in their direction before starting to walk off. The three wizards hurried after him. They were led down many corridors until they began to feel as though they were in a maze. At last, they stopped in front of a pair of tall mahogany doors. Legcrusher knocked once.
“Enter,” a creaky voice said.
Legcrusher pushed open the doors, and shut them after the trio had entered the office.
“Hello, Griphook,” Sirius said, Remus and Harry echoing him.
“Lord Black,” the Goblin replied. “How may I help you?”
“We need to set up payment for Remus. I would say… two hundred Galleons a month for his services as a tutor for Harry,” Sirius said.
“According to the Potters’ will, that money will be taken directly from the family vault,” Griphook said as he wrote something down on some parchment.
“Only take half of it from there, the other half can be taken from my vault,” Sirius said.
“But…” Harry began.
Sirius placed a hand on his godson’s shoulder. “Harry, as your adopted father it is my duty and right to pay for things like this. It was your parents wishes that if I were to raise you, I would pay for half of everything while the remainder would come from their vault. Parents take care of their children, not the other way around,” he explained.
Harry blushed. It had been ingrained in him from the time he was young to take care of himself as he couldn’t count on his guardians to do it. Now, everything had changed.
“Now then, are we good?” Sirius looked oddly serious.
“Yeah,” Harry replied. “We’re good.”
Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Life With The Marauders
After a rather nice lunch in Muggle London, where Sirius flirted outrageously with the waitress, the two Marauders and Harry found themselves entered a broken down telephone booth. They dialed a series of numbers (62442) which oddly enough spelled out ‘MAGIC’ on the telephone, and even odder, could be turned into the Dark symbol of 666.When Harry pointed that out to his guardians and explained what the numbers meant to Muggles, Sirius decided that perhaps it was time someone petitioned for a new pass code for the entrance to the Ministry of Magic.
The odd group of the Boy-Who-Lived, a werewolf, and an ex-con (recently acquitted) was soon entering the large lobby of the hub of Magical activity in Great Britain. After getting their wands check by Eric Munch, who winked at Harry upon checking his wand, the group headed to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
As they exited the elevator, they met a most unusual person in a most unusual fashion. A young woman, presumably an Auror, crashed into Moony with the force of a rogue Bludger.
- - -
Five minutes or so earlier…
“Damn it all to Voldemort’s most creepy lair, Tonks! Don’t you know how to walk straight!” retired Auror Mad-Eye Moody (now an Auror trainer) yelled in frustration. “You’ve been captured in every damn rundown of stealthy procedures!”
“I’m sorry!” Tonks said earnestly. “I try, I really do!”
Moody had a bit of a soft spot for the young Metamorphmagus, so let her go with a warning. “Go home and buy yourself a book on balance and for Merlin’s sake Nymphadora, don’t trip in front of a bus!” which for him was an incredibly sweet thing to say.
“A-alright, Sir,” the Auror-to-be said, teary eyed.
“You’ve got the potential to be one of my best… maybe even the best since James Potter came through training. You can do this, Tonks. I’m not giving up on you; I’ll work you until the name Moody becomes synonymous with Hell, but by Merlin you’ll reach your potential before I’m through with you. Got it!” he said, a strong hand clasped on her shoulder.
“Yes, Sir,” she said in a stronger voice.
- - -
Down the hall at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office…
“Perkins! Would you look at this,” Arthur Weasley gushed to his partner. “It’s a Muggle transportation device, called a skate! Some warlock in Kent enchanted it with a notice-me-not charm until after people have stepped on it and slipped. Awful trick really; ten Muggles with broken bones, but I think I can undo the enchantment!”
Perkins didn’t even look up from his paperwork and merely grunted in response.
“Do you want to see what it does?” Arthur asked, showing where the twins got their personalities from.
Perkins looked up at this, and with a gleam in his eye, said, “Auror training just ended for the day.”
The two men exchanged looks of glee and slipped out of their office to leave the skate by the doors to the Auror Training room.
- - -
Here and now…
And so it was that ten minutes after two in the afternoon, one Nymphadora Tonks came out of the training room, slipped on the skate, and went skidding down the hall only to land on top of Remus John Lupin.
“I am so sorry!” she said from on top of the older man. She pushed herself up off of his chest a bit and looked down into amber eyes. Tonks froze.
Remus had been shocked when the pink-haired young woman crashed into him. That however, was nothing to how he felt when he looked up into her violet eyes. “Don’t be,” was his response to her apology. Really, how could any sane male be upset about having a beautiful twenty-one year old woman lying on top of him?
They held each others gaze for what could have been a century…or a minute and a half, which was all the time Sirius needed to get over his shock and burst into laughter.
“Cousin Dora meet my good friend Remus Lupin. Remy, ole buddy ole pal, meet my little cousin Nymphadora Tonks,” Sirius said.
Suddenly, with no warning and incredible speed, Tonks was on her feet and hexing Sirius with the Itching Curse. “Don't call me Nymphadora!”
“HELP! Moony heeeeeelp!” Sirius cried out as he tried to scratch his itches, some of which were in places one should never scratch in public.
Harry was enjoying himself immensely by this time.
Remus got slowly to his feet and stared at his best friend. “I don’t think I will help you right now, Padfoot. I’d rather not incur the wrath of your lovely and fascinating cousin. My lady,” he said, bowing over her hand and kissing it. “I bow to your greatness.”
“I’m charmed to meet you, Mr. Lupin. I’ve heard such…fascinating things about you,” Tonks replied, lengthening and batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.
“Perhaps we could get together sometime to compare notes. You see, I just so happen to have heard a great deal about you,” Remus said, still holding her hand.
Harry stared in fascination as his sort-of uncle flirted with a woman. Sirius’ flirting was one thing, but Remus’ was another entirely.
“Dinner, tonight, 7 o’clock,” was her simple response.
“Perfect,” Remus said, “We’ll meet at the Cauldron and go from there?”
“Perfect,” Tonks replied. With a flick of her wand, she removed the curse from Sirius, and a moment later, she had left on the elevator.
“So,” Sirius said, “Shall we just pretend this never happened?” He sounded hopeful.
Remus shook his head and began to walk toward the doors to Amelia Bones’ office. “Padfoot, my good friend, we’ll never let you forget it.”
“Damn.”
“We’re here to see Madam Bones,” Sirius told the witch seated at the receptionist desk.
The young woman didn’t even look up from her magazine, Witch Weekly. “Madam Bones is very busy today so unless you’re the Minister of Magic or Harry Potter, you’ll have to make an appointment for later this week.”
Harry smirked. “Hi! It’s nice to meet you; I’m Harry Potter, and my godfather has an appointment with Madam Bones, so if you’ll just let her know…”
The woman fell out of her chair with a loud squawk as soon as he said his name. She hurried to the door behind her desk and entered it. A moment later she came rushing out again followed by a stern looking witch with a monocle.
“Ah, Mr. Black, I am surprised to find you here as my assistant only mentioned Mr. Potter,” Madam Bones said, arching a brow in the direction of the blushing young witch.
Sirius grinned and gave a fake sigh. “There was a time when pretty young witches saved all of their attention for me,” he sighed again, “and now I find myself usurped by my own godson. Oh! How will I ever recover from the shame?”
Madam Bones smiled widely and invited them into her office. “Young Mr. Malfoy will be brought here soon by Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. He’s a new transfer from the African Ministry and he’s already proven to be sent by Merlin.”
“Really?” Remus asked. “He must be good then.”
“He is,” she replied, just as someone knocked on her office door. “Come in.”
A tall broad shouldered black man, who Harry immediately recognized came in with his hand resting on the shoulder of a surly Draco Malfoy.
“You were one of the Aurors who came to Professor Dumbledore’s office the day Pettigrew was caught,” Harry exclaimed.
Kingsley raised his brows in surprise. “Yes, I was there, though I am surprised that you recognized me.”
Harry looked sheepish. “I have a good memory.” He turned to Draco. “Hello,” he said politely.
Draco glared at him. “I don’t want your pity, Potter,” he spat.
“Good, ‘cause I wasn’t offering any. I just want to end the animosity between us, because frankly it’s gotten out of hand, and as we’re probably going to be spending a lot of time together this summer, I thought we could have a truce,” Harry tried to explain.
Draco’s gaze searched his face for any sign of duplicity. “Weasley’ll be mad.”
“Ron will get over it,” Harry said shrugging. “Do we have an accord?” He held out his hand.
Draco still looked wary but shook it.
Madam Bones looked slightly surprised, but said nothing about this development. “Mr. Black, if you would sign these papers confirming your custody of Mr. Malfoy, then we can wrap things up. I’m sure you have somewhere else you’d like to be, and I certainly have more than enough work to be getting on with, especially with the election coming up in two weeks.”
Harry looked interested. “Are you running, Madam Bones?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Yes, Mr. Potter, I am.”
“I wish you the best of luck, Madam. I, for one, am certainly hoping you win; you would be a great improvement from the last Minister. Not that achieving that would be difficult,” Harry added, smiling.
Madam Bones smiled. “I quite agree.”
“Susan lives with you, right?” Harry asked, changing the subject suddenly.
“Yes, she does,” Madam Bones replied, surprise coloring her voice.
“Would you please tell her that I said ‘hi’,” Harry said, wanting to be polite to the girl he had partnered with during one of their Mandrake lessons.
“Of course,” the Head of the DMLE replied.
- - -
Later that evening…
Harry and Draco sat in the upstairs sitting room, staring in fascination as the two Marauders rushed around trying to get ready for their dates.
“Ten galleons says that Sirius will forget that he isn’t wearing any pants until after he gets to the first floor,” Harry said, amused sounding.
“What do you take me for, Potter? That’s a sucker’s bet!” Draco replied.
Remus came out of his room wearing a caramel colored dress shirt, and a light brown blazer. He froze when he noticed the boys staring at him. “The jacket is the wrong color isn’t it? I knew it!” He turned and re-entered his bedroom without waiting for a response.
Sirius exited his room a minute later and said, “Bye boys, don’t burn the house down.” He left, and Harry and Draco exchanged looks before sneaking after him to see when he’d notice his missing pants.
Sirius had nearly made it to the door when… “It’s a bit drafty in here.” He froze and looked down. He yelped and ran up the stairs, and past the laughing boys.
Remus appeared next to the boys a moment later, this time wearing a dark brown blazer.
“I’m off,” he said. “Have fun, boys. Be good for the house elves.”
“Bye Moony,” Harry said.
Draco also said, “Bye, Mr. Lupin.”
Sirius came dashing past them a minute later. He froze on the bottom step, ran back up to the boys and hugged them, saying, “Don’t do anything Remus wouldn’t do.”
“Darn!” Harry said, looking disgruntled. “Draco, I guess that means no drunken parties with naked women, and I was so looking forward to it!”
Draco was trying to stifle his laughter without much luck. He failed completely when Sirius said, “Actually, there was that one time in ’79…” Sirius shrugged. “Bye then,” he said as he dashed out the door.
The two boys exchanged looks for a long moment.
“So… How about a game of chess?” Harry suggested.
“Race you there,” Draco replied, dashing off.
“Cheater!” Harry yelled, as he entered the sitting room.
“Nope. Slytherin,” Draco replied from his seat at the chess board.
- - -
Dear Ginny,
It turns out that due to the recent arrests, my godfather has received custody of his cousin's child, Draco Malfoy. I decided to offer him a truce and he accepted. I really don't want to spend the summer watching my back. Please break the news to Ron for me. I'm sure it'll be a good show when he blows his top.
I miss you loads, and can hardly wait to see you again. I'll write again soon.
Harry
Ginny smiled as she read the letter. "Oh, RON!" she sang out. "Harry has the most fascinating news!"
Chapter 7: Chapter 7: The Explosion That Causes A Tidal Wave
Molly Weasley stood in her kitchen, scrambling some eggs for breakfast when the Daily Prophet owl swooped in through the open window and dropped the paper onto the bacon.Arthur came down stairs, just as the owl left again. “Oh, the paper’s here,” he said. “Remus told me that there is going to be a very interesting article in the paper today. He said it would probably be on the front page.” The red haired man smiled and pecked his wife on the cheek before pouring himself some coffee and picking up the newspaper. He flicked it open, and as Molly turned to place the bowl of eggs on the table, she saw the smile fade off of his face, replaced by a stern and angry look.
“Get the kids,” he said solemnly.
Molly placed the bowl on the table, and ran upstairs, ordering the children to be at the table in five minutes or suffer her wrath.
Ginny was already awake and brushing her long, shiny red hair when her mother barreled up the stairs to her door.
“Ginny, dear, hurry downstairs immediately. Your father wants all of you down,” the flustered mother said.
“Yes, Mum,” Ginny replied, standing up from her spot on the bed, and dropping the brush onto her bedside table. “Water works best on the twins when you’re in a hurry,” she said as she slipped past her mother.
Ginny hurried downstairs and saw her father holding the newspaper in one hand while his head was in the fire.
Arthur pulled his head out of the flames and breathed a sigh of relief before turning to see his daughter seated at the table and nibbling on a piece of toast with marmalade. He smiled fondly at her and said, “Bill and Charlie will be here in a few minutes.”
Ginny looked up at him, her face glowing with joy. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I’ve missed them.”
“I know you have, which is part of the reason why they will be staying for the rest of the weekend,” Arthur said, smiling down at his only girl.
At that moment, two things happened. Percy came downstairs, still in his pajamas, and the fire turned green and out stepped Bill.
“Ginny!” he cried, as he dropped a large black bag on the floor.
“Bill!” she yelled, leaping up from the table and running into his arms.
Bill caught her and swung her around in the air before putting her back on the ground. “Well, Ginny, you’re all grown up, aren’t you?”
“Well, you have been away for two years,” she responded, hands on her hips.
He chuckled and said, “Yes, I guess I have. Hello, Percy.” He smiled at the bookish Weasley.
“Hello, Bill,” the younger male said, yawning behind a hand. “Any idea what this is all about?”
“Nope, all Dad said was that it was a family meeting,” he responded, as he sat at the table and started dishing up some eggs.
The flames turned green again, and a man that was shorter and stockier than Bill stepped out.
“Hi, everyone!” Charlie greeted, dropping his green bag next to Bill’s black one before joining the table.
Molly and the twins, whose hair was plastered to their heads, entered the room just then. “Ron will be down in a minute,” Molly said.
Fred and George glared at Ginny as they sat down. “Thanks a lot, Ginny!” Fred said sarcastically.
“Yeah, you had to spill the beans to Mum,” George added.
Ginny smirked in response, and looked very smug as she bit into a piece of sausage.
Molly was frying up more eggs by the time Ron stumbled into the room, still in his pajamas. He froze just inside the door and stared at his eldest brothers. “What’re you doing here?” he asked.
“Nice to know that we’re loved, eh Bill?” Charlie said.
“Yeah really, I’m only the person who taught Ron to play chess,” Bill added.
Charlie nodded. “Now that you mention it, I was the one who taught him how to fly.”
Ron glared at them. “I missed you both. Happy now?”
“Immensely,” they said together, not unlike the twins.
Arthur cleared his throat. “Sit down Ron, you too Molly.” He looked very grave. “I need everyone here to remain calm while I read this to you, then I will be asking some questions, and you will answer them honestly.”
Everyone nodded solemnly.
“The Boy-Who-Lived Speaks Out For The First Time,” Arthur read.
The older boys exchanged looks, and Fred and George both looked to Ron to see if he knew what was going on. Ron shook his head and looked at Ginny who refused to meet anyone’s eyes.
Molly cried throughout most of the article, and Ginny looked as though she wanted to cry as well but held it in. When Harry mentioned his accidental magic, Bill gave a low whistle, impressed with the boy’s power. Ron looked green when he found out that Harry remembered his mother’s murder. Charlie chuckled when Harry insulted Voldemort, impressed with his cheek. Each of the Weasley children blushed as their father read what Harry had said about them. Charlie nodded reminiscently as he heard Harry describe the first time he ever flew. Everyone was impressed with how Harry felt about other beings. But the good feelings didn’t last long when they read about what Rita Skeeter had found in the Dursleys’ home.
The whole room sat in shock as Arthur read the last paragraph. Then anyone passing by the Burrow would have thought that an explosion had happened, because the kitchen erupted into sound as everyone began talking and yelling at once.
Arthur had cast several bangs with his wand to get everyone’s attention. “Silence!” he yelled as the din lessened. “I have questions for each of you, starting with Percy.”
“Yes, Father,” the usually stiff and pompous young man said, though just now he was more than a little shaken.
“What do you know about this article, and about Harry’s life? Has he said anything to you? Or did you observe anything of interest about him?” Arthur asked seriously. “Please start from the moment you met him and think over every memory.”
“Alright,” Percy said, looking slightly overwhelmed. “The first time I noticed him was when his name was called to be Sorted. I noticed that he was rather small for his age, though Mr. Longbottom was also short. Harry took a while to be Sorted, and he looked very relieved when the Hat yelled Gryffindor,” Percy paused. “He flinched a little when one of the twins patted him on the back, and again when I reached to shake his hand. I noticed that he continued to flinch at sudden moves and noises until a week or two after Halloween, but it started back up when he first got here last summer.” Percy looked rather pale as he began to understand the implications of what he had seen. “He was scrawny at first but he filled out some during the course of the school year, but he was just as scrawny last summer as well. Harry was the first student to sign up to stay at the school for Christmas, and he looked quite relieved to do so. At the time, I figured that it was just because he was still in awe of magic and wanted to stay where he could continue to do it.” Percy drew in a shaky breath. “I see now that I was wrong. I — I can’t think of anything else, but if I do, I’ll let you know.”
Arthur nodded. “Fred, you’re next.”
Fred exchanged glances with George then began. “I noticed something off at the beginning. He wore such baggy, worn out clothes at the train station, and all he brought with him for school were the necessities. He could barely lift his trunk, and it was nearly empty,” he said, George nodding beside him. “When the food appeared on the tables at the Start of Term Feast, he didn’t even reach for anything until we told him to ‘eat up’. Then he only took a little bit at a time, until he realized that he could have as much as he wanted and no one would stop him. He jumped whenever we suddenly appeared on either side of him, and I’ve never seen anyone with his reflexes before. When we asked him how come he was so good at dodging Bludgers, he just said that he was used to dodging things. Then when we went to rescue him last summer, he was locked in a small room with bars on the windows. The blankets on the bed were worn out and had holes in them. His owl looked healthier than he did, and as she was padlocked into her cage, my best guess is that he was giving her half of what little bit of food the Muggles gave him.” Molly winced and wiped some more tears from her eyes.
“George, it’s your turn,” Arthur said.
George nodded and began, “I noticed all of the same things as Fred really, but there’s a few things he missed. At the Feast two years ago, Harry acted as though he’d never tasted a dessert before in his life. Over the course of the year, I noticed that Harry felt his life was unimportant. Look at how quick he was to go up against You-Know-Who in his first year, knowing that he couldn’t win. Last year he went up against a Basilisk. Also, one thing that Fred missed was that when we broke Harry out of Durskaban, his trunk had been locked in the cupboard beneath the stairs. We had to pick the lock on his bedroom door, then pick another lock on the cupboard door.” George looked really mad now. “Then when we had Harry’s trunk in the car, and Harry had just handed me Hedwig, Dursley Sr. woke up and came barging into the room yelling, ‘The prisoner is escaping!’” Several people gasped at that. “Then we tried to pull Harry into the car as his Uncle yanked on his legs, trying to keep him there. That’s all I think.”
Arthur nodded, looking rather paler than before. “Ronald,” he said.
Ron knew this was dead serious because his dad never used his full name unless it was something life-or-death important. “I shared a compartment with Harry on the train,” he started. “Looking back on things, I realize that Harry wasn’t just thin back then, but he was bony.” Ron looked grave, and it seemed to him as though his childhood was gone forever with that one news article. “Harry loved everything about the train ride. He went wild over the Chocolate Frogs and Every-Flavor Beans. He told me that he’d never had candy before. I thought that his family were just health-nuts. When I mentioned that most of my things, like my wand, were hand-me-downs, Harry told me that he’d never had new clothes before, and just got his cousin’s old things. As you know, the cousin is huge, so they obviously never had fit Harry. And at Christmas, he told me that he never had gotten a real Christmas present before. Remember, Mum, I told you about that, so you sent Harry a Weasley sweater.” Molly nodded as Ron continued, “He always tried to protect other people at risk to himself. Like when he got Neville’s Rememberall back from Malfoy. He flew up after him, even though he’d never flown before. Then he dove after it, and barely missed becoming one with the grass in order to catch it. He was the one who insisted that we warn Hermione about the troll on Halloween. He — eck,” Ron said, changing the word at the last minute because his mother was giving him ‘the look’. “He even risks his life for Quidditch, more than most people would. During this past year, a lot of things he did was to figure out — well, to help people anyway, and he didn’t even care all that much that people thought he was Slytherin’s heir.”
“Molly?” Arthur said, nodding gravely.
“Well,” Molly said, shifting in her seat. “Harry was very polite and timid when he asked how to get onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters two years ago, and there was nobody with him at the station. When I hugged him at the start of last summer, I noticed that he was painfully thin. But I still thought the boys were exaggerating when they said that the Muggles had Harry locked up and were starving him. I’m sorry boys,” she said, turning to the twins and Ron.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Arthur said, looking serious. “I think it’s time that some of our laws regarding Muggleborn students be changed.”
“Like what, Dad?” Bill asked.
“A certified Healer that is unrelated to the school should give each Muggleborn an examination upon entering our world in order to prevent problems like this from arising again. Also, the records of every Muggleborn’s health should be sent to Madam Pomfrey so that she is better able to help them in the future,” he explained.
Bill nodded.
Charlie suddenly spoke up, “Dad… Shouldn’t Hogwarts make Muggle Studies a mandatory class for anyone who was raised in our world, and also have Intro to the Wizarding World classes at the same time for Muggleborns? At least for the first two years, anyway.”
“That’s an excellent idea, Son,” Arthur said, “I suppose I’d better speak to Madam Longbottom about that as she is on the Board of Governors.”
“But, what about Harry?” Molly asked. “Eleven years in Azkaban can’t have been good for his godfather. Is he fit to raise a child at this time?”
“Mum, so you honestly think that Harry is still a child after hearing everything in that article?” Ginny asked in shock.
“But he’s only twelve for Merlin’s sake,” the matronly woman wailed.
“And I’m only eleven,” Ginny said. “But going through what I did has left me scarred, not physically but emotionally, because of this I am probably a lot more mature than my peers. Harry has been fighting for the right to live since he was baby. He is more than capable of living alone. At least this way he’s living with two adults, and even if Sirius Black isn’t fit to raise a child, it will still be fine because Remus Lupin will be there.”
“How do you know that?” Ron asked.
Ginny flushed. “How d’you think I know… Harry told me that he was living with the both of them.”
Arthur smiled some. “Remus is a good person, and I have no doubt that Harry will thrive with them,” he said.
“The question now is…” George began.
“…what do we do to help Harry,” Fred finished.
Bill looked quite calm as he spoke. “It’s obvious isn’t it? We prepare for war with V-Voldemort,” he stumbled over the name, and made everyone but Ginny flinch at its use. “Given the events at Hogwarts during the past two years, it’s fairly obvious that Voldemort will be back soon. We prepare to fight.”
Percy spoke up then, and what he said surprised everyone at the table, “If You-Know — oh hell — Voldemort attacked Harry as a child, how did he survive, Voldemort that is? Come to that, how did Harry survive? These questions need answering. Furthermore, from what I overheard Ron and Hermione talking about, Voldemort seemed a little too happy to confront Harry both this past year and the year before.”
“Yes — ” Ginny said, “He was very interested in Harry. Always asking questions, and fool that I am, I told him what I knew.”
“Don’t speak of yourself that way, Ginny,” Percy said before continuing his train of thought. “What I’m trying to say is that Voldemort has an unnatural obsession with Harry. We need to know why, and we need to train Harry.” Percy looked more serious than usual, but there was a glow in his eyes that showed why he was placed in Gryffindor.
Ron decided to mention something. “I don’t think we should bring Dumbledore into this at all though.”
Everyone but the twins and Ginny screamed, “WHAT?” at this.
“I have a reason for thinking this way!” Ron snapped.
Bill looked thoughtful. “Let’s hear it then.”
Ron looked nervous. “I need a Wizards Oath from all of you that you won’t tell anyone what is revealed regarding Dumbledore unless you feel it absolutely necessary,” he said, glaring. “I’m trusting that you all will not feel it necessary to tell Dumbledore what I know.”
“I hereby swear that I, William Weasley, will not knowingly reveal any information that I hear today regarding Albus Dumbledore unless I feel it is absolutely necessary,” Bill said, making his wand glow a brilliant white.
Charlie and Percy were next, and said their oaths together. Thankfully for Ron, Percy had already turned seventeen and was able to make the vow without getting a letter from the Ministry.
Arthur Weasley stared long and hard at Ron before nodding his head and making his vow.
Molly took the longest, and not without a few tears over the precautions her youngest son deemed necessary, before making her vow.
Ron looked rather pale, but nodded. “If you doubt anything that I say today, you can speak to Ginny, the twins, Harry, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, or Nymphadora Tonks,” Ron said.
The older Weasleys all looked rather confused at this, but nodded.
“Where do I start?” he asked Ginny.
“At the beginning is always best,” she replied, shrugging.
Ron nodded and began, “Dumbledore has been Head of the Wizengamot since he defeated Grindelwald, everyone knows that. So why was Sirius Black the only person thrown into Azkaban without a trial? Dumbledore has enough political clout — don’t look at me that way Percy, I’m not stupid — anyway, Dumbledore could have insisted on a trial.”
Charlie nodded in agreement.
“But he didn’t. As Sirius Black was in Azkaban, Dumbledore became the executor of the Potters’ will, and Harry was sent to live with the Dursleys. If Hagrid is to be believed, then Professor McGonagall had watched the Muggles all day and warned Dumbledore that they weren’t fit to raise Harry. Also, don’t you find it a little odd that with all of Dumbledore’s knowledge and Dark Detectors, he never noticed that V-Voldemort was possessing Quirrell and later Ginny?”
Molly exchanged alarmed looks with Arthur.
“Also, why were three first year students capable of getting past traps that were meant to stop Voldemort,” Ron was sounding more passionate now, and it was clear that he had spent a long time thinking about this. “And why was Harry the one who had to kill a Basilisk? Dumbledore sent his Phoenix so why didn’t he hitch a ride on the bird. I looked up Phoenixes after we got out of the Chamber, and they can take a person with them when the flame away.” Ron sighed. “I don’t know what Dumbledore’s motivation was, but I think it’s safe to say that Harry’s best interest was not it.”
Bill’s freckles stood out boldly against his ashen face, and Percy looked quite ill.
“I understand your reasons, Ron, and I agree with them,” Arthur said. He stood and looked around the table. “Are we all in agreement?”
Everyone gave their assent and Arthur nodded. “Now I just need to speak to Harry.”
Ginny looked up suddenly. “I know what to do. Seneca!”
A beautiful gold and red Phoenix appeared hovering in the air above the table.
- - -
Neville and his Gran were seated at the dining room table in Longbottom Manor when the Daily Prophet was delivered. As soon as Augusta Longbottom finished reading the front page, she turned to her grandson.
“Neville, what do you know about this?” she asked, showing him the article.
Neville quickly read it through, his face growing more and more red with each sentence. “WHY DIDN’T HE TELL US?!” he yelled suddenly, leaping out of his chair and pacing. “Of all the idiotic, noble, self-sacrificing, moronic things to do! AARGH!”
Needless to say, Augusta had never expected her calm and meek grandson to react in such a way.
“We could have done something after our first year!” Neville continued.
Suddenly, to Augusta’s shock and awe, every piece of glass in the manor shattered.
Neville collapsed back into his chair after the display of raw magic, tired but calmer.
“I take it then that you knew nothing,” Augusta said as she fixed all of the glass in the dining room.
Neville looked up, his eyes red but dry. “I only knew that Harry wore hand-me-downs and only brought the bare minimum of anything to school. I knew that he didn’t know of his family heritage, but I didn’t know how to tell him about it. I knew his family was unloving, but I never dreamed that they were abusive.”
Augusta crouched in front of her grandson and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You aren’t a Seer, Neville; you couldn’t have known. He is now living with Mr. Black, who as I recall, was a good man, and Azkaban could not possibly change his innate character. I am immensely proud of you for caring about your friends so deeply, and I know that your parents would be too. In fact, you are very much like Alice, though I dare say you have your father’s magical strength.”
Just then a house elf popped into the room. “Madam, all the glass in the house is being broken, but we is fixing it.”
“Thank you, Lulu,” Augusta said, smiling at the elf. “See,” she said to Neville, making him smile a little.
Augusta Longbottom was surprised when Arthur Weasley asked to discuss school business with her, but not as much as he had expected. Indeed, Arthur was the one surprised when she asked Neville’s opinion on things and changed her mind on certain matters based on what he had to say.
- - -
Xenophilius Lovegood smiled happily when he realized the effect that one young teenager could have, and he anticipated the chaos that would soon erupt.
Luna, on the other hand, cried when she read the article, and that night she flooed to Ginny for comfort, for it hurt Luna’s tender heart to know that one of her first friends was hurt so badly.
- - -
Amelia Bones was seated in her office, already working when the owl dropped off her copy of the paper. She was early because it was only a week until the election, and she wanted to be prepared. She would have just tossed the paper aside until her lunch break, but the headline caught her eye.
“SHACKLEBOLT!” Her voice echoed off of the walls not twenty minutes later.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, rushing over from his cubicle.
“You’ve read the front page?” she asked, her face like ice.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Investigate this, and make sure that the Muggle authorities get all the evidence. I will make arrangements for Mr. Potter to be available for a trial,” Amelia said, eyes flashing.
“Yes, Ma’am!” he said, respect coloring his voice.
That day, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was the busiest it had ever been since Harry Potter defeated Voldemort the first time.
- - -
Boris Cragg moaned into his hands when he read the article. He was Amelia Bones’ only real competition for Minister of Magic, and now she was as good as elected. He was no Death Eater, but he was a Pureblood Supremist with an agenda. He knew that some of the people he had borrowed money from for his campaign would be calling in his debts to them, and most of those people would not hesitate to cash in their debts by taking a pound of flesh, as he did not have the money to give them.
- - -
Albus Dumbledore choked on his lemon drop when he read the Prophet that morning. He then checked his tracking devices on Harry’s wand, and saw that it was still at Privet Drive, but that made no sense, as he was certain that Harry was not there.
So at seven that morning, Petunia Dursley broke her favorite casserole because Albus Dumbledore apparated into her back yard, scaring her.
He repaired it, of course, but she threw it away as soon as he left. She had no intention of using anything that magic had been used on.
Dumbledore was shocked speechless when he followed the tracking device to a simple Muggle computer game disk. He left immediately, not sure whether to be proud of Harry for making such a clean break, or furious at the boy’s gall.
When he arrived back at his office, he reread the paper, and came to the conclusion that it was time to focus on what he should have from the very beginning… Hogwarts.
- - -
Minerva McGonagall was calmly sipping her morning tea in Filius’ private dining room in Hogwarts when the paper arrived. Every Saturday the pair and Severus Snape would share breakfast, alternating whose apartment they ate at.
All three Professors began reading their papers at the same time. This was normal, as after they were done reading, they would discuss whatever the paper had said.
Minerva very nearly spit out her tea in shock, but somehow managed to restrain herself in time. Severus broke his tea cup when he squeezed it too hard, spilling tea on his lap, and never noticed. Meanwhile Filius fell off his chair in shock, and didn’t bother to climb back up until he was done the article.
When they had finished reading, the three professors stared at each other for a long minute.
“I knew those Muggles were bad news,” Minerva said at last.
Severus Snape looked pale. “Lily would have been appalled with me for how I’ve been treating her son, especially given the similarities between my own upbringing and his.”
Filius looked every inch the Dueling Master he was. “This article will be like the explosion that causes a tidal wave,” he said, “and the world will never be the same.”
The other two professors nodded in agreement.
“So, where do we stand on this matter?” Minerva asked.
Severus stared at her in surprise. “The only place that makes sense… We stand behind Harry to give him the support he needs. There was a prophecy; I only know part of it though… It goes: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies…,” he said, looking determined. “I’ll give you one guess on what the entire prophecy means.”
Filius and Minerva both looked shocked.
“There is no doubt,” the Scottish woman said, “Harry is going to defeat Voldemort.”
Filius nodded. “I’ll take dueling. Severus, the Dark Arts and Mind Magic, and Minerva takes Animagus training,” he said, and the others nodded in agreement.
- - -
Nymphadora Tonks read the article from the comfort of her mother’s couch. Apart from being appalled at how Harry had been treated, she was now more determined than ever to follow the course her future self had started.
She thought very carefully about what she had to offer Harry in the way of training, and the only thing that came to mind was the very thing suggested in Harry’s letter to himself.
“I’m teaching him Martial Arts,” she said, a determined look on her heart shaped face.
- - -
Draco Malfoy choked on his bacon when he read the article. Then he found himself in his bathroom getting sick over the visual images his imagination had created from the descriptions in the article. He didn’t know if he was going to become a Potter groupie, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to join Voldemort.
- - -
Seneca appeared suddenly in front of Harry who was in the kitchen, making him drop his glass of juice on the floor.
Come my young human, your mate is waiting, Seneca sang.
Harry knew instantly that this was the Phoenix that he was bonded to. “Just a moment, Seneca, I have to tell my guardians where I’m going.”
The Phoenix nodded and grasped Harry’s shoulder in his talons and flamed to the sitting room that Harry shared with the Marauders and Draco.
Harry was stunned by the sudden change in location, but didn’t let it affect him for more than a few seconds. He quickly walked down the hall to Remus’ bedroom.
“Moony!” he called out as he knocked on the door.
“Whaisit?” a very tired Moony said as he opened the door. He had arrived home very late the night before, having gone on a second date with the ever-colorful Tonks.
“I need to go see Ginny, so Seneca, our Phoenix is taking me,” Harry explained.
Remus blinked his eyes several times. “Phoenix, Ginny, got it,” he said. “M’goin back to bed.” And without waiting for a response, he shut the door and shuffled off.
- - -
The breakfast had been cleared and lunch had replaced it, but aside from that, the kitchen of the Burrow looked exactly as it had that morning.
A large burst of flames appeared near the door to the garden, and a rather nervous looking Harry appeared, clutching Seneca’s tail.
“Harry!” Ginny cried out, leaping out of her seat and into his arms.
Harry easily caught her, and after a tight hug, released her only to find himself wrapped in the vice-like grip of his surrogate mother. Molly only released him when a very loud bang came from Arthur Weasley’s wand.
“Business first, then lunch,” he said. He looked at Harry. “How much do you know about Magical Customs?”
Seneca suddenly sang to Harry, “I can walk you through any Customs he wishes to do.”
“Not much,” Harry replied to Arthur, “but Seneca says that he can walk me through any Customs that you want to do.”
Arthur sighed in relief. “Boys,” he said, making all of the Weasley males stand up.
Arthur knelt on one knee in front of Harry, placing both hands on his shoulders. Bill and Charlie knelt just behind their father on either side, each with a hand on one of his shoulders and their other hand on their brother’s shoulder. Percy knelt behind Bill and Charlie, placing his hands on their outer shoulders. Fred and George knelt behind Percy and placed their hands in the same positions as Bill and Charlie. Ron knelt in the back with his hands on their outer shoulders, and they began.
“As a father to a son, I give you guidance,” Arthur said solemnly, and both he and Harry began to glow.
“As elder brothers to the younger, we give you strength,” Bill and Charlie recited, making themselves glow, and adding to the brightness around their father and Harry.
“As an elder brother to the younger, I give you knowledge,” Percy said, adding to the effect.
“As elder brothers to the younger, we give you cunning,” the twins said together.
“As a brother, I give you my allegiance,” Ron said, more serious than Harry had ever seen him before.
Seneca sang in Harry’s ear. “Accept them by saying, ‘Kinsmen and Family we shall be. The House of Potter and the House of Gryffindor accept you. So mote it be.’”
"Kinsmen and Family we shall be. The House of Potter and the House of Gryffindor accept you. So mote it be,” Harry said seriously, knowing that this was a moment of great importance.
Arthur smiled up at him. “So mote it be,” all the Weasley males said together.
“Well, that’s done,” Arthur said. “I’m sure you have some questions, Harry, so go ahead and ask?”
“What exactly did we just do?” Harry asked.
“We formally requested to join Clan Potter and apparently Clan Gryffindor, and your acceptance made us a sort of family,” Bill explained. “We aren’t actually brothers, but we have a legal, ethical, and magical familial bond now.”
“What sort of legal responsibilities do we have to each other?” Harry asked.
Arthur grinned and chuckled under his breath. “You were right, Ginny, that was the first thing he asked,” he said.
Bill ignored this and began to try to explain. “This means for example, if one of us were to have a child, but be unable to raise it due to death or injury, you would have a responsibility to that child. Also, if you were in need of legal aid, like if you were brought up on charges with the Wizengamot, we would have a responsibility to get you legal counsel, and if necessary one of us could accept responsibility for you through this bond to get you bailed out of jail. Not that any of us think that will be necessary. In olden times, this bond was a sign of allies in battle. Should Voldemort return, as we believe he will, and you were to fight him, we will be by your side as is our right.”
“What did you tell them?” Harry asked, turning to Ron.
“Just that Voldemort seems to have and unnatural obsession with you, and in a way, so does Dumbledore,” Ron said, shrugging.
“I need to tell you all something that only a few close friends know,” Harry said to Arthur.
“Go ahead,” the older man said.
“There is a prophecy about me, Voldemort and…well, I think you’ll figure it out,” Harry said. “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark the him as his equal, But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...This Power shall be his love…She will be one of seven, yet the only one…Faithful when others doubt, Faithful when faith is torture…She shall be the only one to know his pain…Bound by their love, Their love will save all…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.”
Arthur systematically took the prophecy apart piece by piece, and Harry knew the exact moment that he reached the line ‘She will be one of seven, yet the only one’ because Arthur paled. “Ginny,” was all he could say.
Harry nodded.
“There’s no doubt?” Percy asked, just to be certain.
Harry said, “No doubt at all,” which made Ginny blush.
“That confirms it then,” Arthur said.
“A betrothal?” Bill asked.
Arthur nodded.
“But they’re so young,” Molly protested.
Charlie shook his head. “No, Mum, they’re not.”
“They’ve handled this all with far more maturity than I would have,” Percy said.
Molly sighed. “I'm not going to get my way, am I? As Arthur agrees, I suppose I have to as well.”
“Ginny, come here,” Arthur said.
He had Harry and Ginny stand facing each other.
“Err, what basis will you use for it?” Ron asked.
“My life debt,” Ginny answered before her father could.
Arthur nodded. “Hold out your right hands,” he said, which they both did immediately. With his wand, he cast a slicing charm on their palms. “Harry hold Ginny’s hand, palm to palm.” Harry took her smaller hand in his.
Ginny stared Harry in the eyes and said, “My life is owed to thee, My hand I give to thee, Should thee accept this offering, Your bride I shall be.”
Arthur said a long stream of Latin words, and a silver cord wrapped around their hands.
“Tell her, ‘Thou owes me no debt, My name I shall give to thee, Thy offering is accepted, My bride thee shall be,’” Seneca sang.
Harry stared deep into Ginny’s eyes and said, as Seneca told him, “Thou owes me no debt, My name I shall give to thee, Thy offering is accepted, My bride thee shall be.”
Arthur said another string of Latin, making another silver cord wrap around their hands, then said, “So mote it be.”
With a blinding flash of magic, the cords were absorbed, and when they pulled their hands apart, Harry and Ginny saw that the cuts had been healed, though a scar remained.
“Are there any other Customs that you want to do?” Harry asked.
“No, not today at any rate,” Arthur said. “Now let’s have some lunch. I believe that a great many people will want a moment of your time over the next few weeks, Harry.”
- - -
Arthur was correct. It was the very next day that the Longbottom matriarch requested his presence at her home.
Harry, having read up on Customs the night before, was prepared. When a Head of Family is formally invited to the home of another Head (or future Head) it is polite if he wears dress robes with all family Crests present, be wearing any family rings, and in a very few cases (Harry’s included) bring the family sword.
Harry considered himself lucky. He had intentionally left the Sword of Gryffindor in the Chamber of Secrets, and as he knew where the Chamber was, he had Seneca flame him in to retrieve the sword. Harry had assumed accurately that had he brought the sword with him when he was interviewed by Professor Dumbledore after the incident, the Professor would have taken the sword away, claiming it to be a school artifact.
So when he arrived at Longbottom Manor on Sunday afternoon, he wore black dress robes with the Potter-Gryffindor Crest on his right breast, as he was the Head of Family. The Black Crest, he wore on his left breast, as he was Heir to the House of Black. Sirius had given him an heir ring to wear on the middle finger of his right hand, and he always wore his Head ring on his right hand ring finger. He wore the sword of Gryffindor in its scabbard on his left hip. Somehow, Seneca had retrieved the scabbard for him, though the bird refused to tell him how he did it or where it came from.
Harry exited the floo in the main foyer of the opulent manor that was a bit more formal than Potter manor, though smaller.
“Lord Potter,” Augusta Longbottom greeted, bowing her head.
“Lady Longbottom,” Harry replied, bowing a trifle awkwardly. Thankfully Harry did not have to stick to formalities with Neville.
As was customary, they had a formal luncheon before moving on to the reason Harry had been invited over.
“Mr. Potter,” Mrs. Longbottom began. “I wish to establish an alliance between our families as had once existed between your father and my son.”
“What sort of alliance?” Harry asked.
Augusta smiled. “I wish for our Houses to be Brother Houses.”
The Brother Bond was one that Harry had been reading up on the night before, so he suspected that he knew what she wanted him to do. “You wish for Neville and I to be blood brothers?”
“Yes, Lord Potter,” she replied.
“Why specifically, Ma’am?” Harry asked.
She smiled impressed with how he was handling this. “I wish to know that both you and Neville will have someone to go to in times of need, whether in war, politics, or just everyday life.”
“I shall enter into this bond with Neville,” Harry accepted nervously, while using the formal way of speaking.
Harry dropped to one knee facing Neville, who did the same. Both boys were nervous, but determined.
Augusta offered Harry a ceremonial dagger. He was to go first as he was already the Head of a Family.
Harry calmly sliced himself on the inner part of his right wrist, thankful that magic would heal it quickly, then handed the dagger to Neville who did the same to his own right wrist.
“I accept you into my family with my blood,” Harry said, grasping Neville’s forearm with his hand so their cuts were pressed together.
“I accept you into my family with my blood,” Neville said, his voice shakier than Harry’s.
“Our blood binds us as brothers the same as if we were born together,” they said as one. With a flash of light, the cuts were sealed, and like with the betrothal, each participant retained a scar.
Augusta smiled proudly, knowing that they should have been raised as brothers and now actually were.
Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Training Begins
After the blood brother ritual that Harry and Neville went through, Augusta was happy to let Neville go to Potter Manor to train with Harry.Remus had taught them how to fight with broadswords in the past-future, but this time Sirius would be the one teaching them, for the most part.
“What?” Sirius said with a whine when Harry stared at him in shock after being told this. “All pureblood males learn to sword fight, just ask Draco.”
“It’s true,” Draco said, nodding. “Have fun with your little lesson,” he added, standing up from the kitchen table before leaving the room.
Harry held back a snicker as he remembered Draco's first morning at Potter Manor.
-Flashback-
Draco climbed out of bed his first morning at Potter Manor, and yawned widely. He smoothed his black satin pajamas as he went, then slipped on his green bedroom slippers and walked to the window and threw open the drapes. He breathed deeply before yawning again then walked into his bathroom.
His eyes narrowed in annoyance when he saw that neither of the two house-elves had drawn his morning bath. He huffed in annoyance before doing it himself.
Draco tried lifting the handle to turn on the water, but it just wouldn’t work. He tugged harder, but it still wouldn’t work. So he stepped inside the tub, braced his feet firmly, and tugged as hard as he could on the handle. It. Just. Wouldn’t. Work. His arms just didn’t want to pull anymore so he fell forward, putting pressure on the handle instead. To his shock, the handle pushed down, and water began gushing out of the spigot right onto his slippers and the hems of his pants.
“Aargh!” he yelled in frustration, kicking the side of the tub in anger and stubbing his toe.
He climbed out of the tub and kick off his sodden slippers before adding a scoopful of scented crystals to the hot water. He paused, then added another scoop just to be sure there was enough, then left the room.
He went into his walk-in closet. 'Thank goodness they had the decency to give me one,' he thought, 'Imagine only having a tiny wardrobe for my clothes. My satin dress robes would be crushed!' He pulled out a long black robe, an emerald green satin shirt with ivory buttons, and pressed black slacks. He walked to his dresser, clothes draped over one arm, and removed a pair of black satin boxers, and a pair of silk knit socks, also black.
Draco re-entered the bathroom, and hung up his clothes on the hook on the back of the door and placing his boxers and socks on the counter by the sink.
He stripped out of his pajamas, dropping each piece on the floor, and put his right foot into the tub, only to yank it out immediately, because the water was scalding hot. He let out a few choice cuss words at this, before draining half of the water, and adding some cold water to get it to the correct temperature.
Then he realized that he should probably add some more bath crystals to the water since he drained half of it, and added two more scoops.
He climbed into the tub and relaxed. It was the perfect temperature. He stayed in the tub until his fingers began to prune, then got out and drained the water. He pulled a fluffy white towel off of the rack and frowned in annoyance, thinking, ‘Dear Merlin, is Potter a barbarian! It’s just shameful, not having the guest's towels properly heated when they need them!’
He toweled dry before dressing and going about the rest of his morning ablutions. He washed his face. 'Is that a zit beside my nose? No. No. It's just my imagination.'
‘How much hair gel does Bibby normally use in my hair? Eh, well, I’ll just use it until I think it looks right.’ He poured a long squirt of the gel into his palm, and ran a hand through the hair on the left side only to find that he didn’t have enough left in his hand for his right side. He poured another long squirt into his hand and did the other side. But now it looked like too much, so he desperately tried spreading it around more evenly, only to make his hair stick up funny, much to his annoyance. He tried franticly to smooth it down for the next ten minutes, only to give up in frustration.
Draco sighed, and decided that fixing it could wait until after breakfast. He went downstairs and began to search for the dining room. Twenty minutes later, he finally found it, but it was empty, so he sat down to wait for the house-elves to deliver his breakfast.
He waited, and he waited. And he waited some more. Finally, he was sick of waiting, so stood up and left the room.
Entering the hall, he could smell something wonderful so followed the scent until he entered, he gasped loudly, the kitchen. To his astonishment, Harry was calmly eating a plate of eggs, toast and bacon, while reading a Defense book that Remus had loaned him. Remus and Sirius were fighting over who got the last waffle, though it looked like Remus was winning, simply because he was more awake than Sirius.
Draco just stood there in shock.
“Aren’t you going to come in and get some food?” Harry asked when he finally looked up from his book. “By the way, did you know that you smell like a perfume store that just exploded?” he added, wrinkling his nose.
“You eat in the kitchen?” Draco asked incredulously, ignoring the comment about his smell, and muttering about how uncivilized it was.
“Obviously,” Harry replied dryly.
Draco pulled out a chair, and brushed off the seat before sitting delicately perched on the edge, as though he was afraid to soil his robes by sitting there.
“Would you prefer tea or coffee?” Remus asked kindly, while Sirius tried to steal the waffle from the werewolf’s plate, only to jump when Remus slammed his fork down, piercing the waffle, and leveled a glare at his friend.
“Tea,” Draco said, sniffing haughtily. “Mother says that coffee isn’t dignified, and only the unsoiled masses drink it.”
Harry snorted loudly, before bursting into laughter, tears trickling from the corners of his eyes.
Remus just shook his head and poured a cup of tea, handing it to the haughty boy.
Draco took a delicate sip before cringing and adding some cream and two teaspoons of sugar, muttering about sugar cubes being more refined. A plate of eggs, toast and bacon, like Harry was eating, was placed in front of him, making him frown.
“I wanted Eggs Benedict this morning,” Draco said, sneering at the plate of food.
Tibby was about to rush off and make some, when Harry’s hand landed on her shoulder, stopping her. He silently shook his head, and Tibby nodded, acknowledging the order, and went to wash dishes instead.
“I don’t know how you were raised, Draco,” Harry said, standing and leaning over the table, hands braced on the edge. “But in this house, we eat what is served without complaints, and we thank the cook. I don’t give a damn about what you want. You have food and a place to live, and you didn’t have to pay a Knut for it, so you should be darned grateful. We aren’t asking you to do chores, but if you keep up your spoiled little prince attitude, that will change. All we ask is that you are polite to the beings that actually do work, and try not to make more work for them. That said, you will either eat what is provided or go hungry. You will put dirty clothes in the laundry bin or they will sit on the floor until they grow legs and walk off on their own. You will not go into the Potions lab or anyone’s private quarters without permission, and lastly, you will refrain from making comments about how unrefined we are. Have I made myself perfectly clear?” Harry asked, eyes glowing ominously.
Draco gulped, scooting back from him in fear. “Yes,” he squeaked.
“Good, then I won’t have to repeat myself,” Harry said, sitting back down, only to find that Sirius had stolen his book.
-End Flashback-
Harry was thankful that the other boy no longer acted the way he had that first morning. Neville, on the other hand, had no problems with eating in the kitchen, preferring it as it was more casual than what he was used to.
Sirius led Remus, Neville and Harry into the dueling room. “We’ll start with the epees, and move our way onto the heavier swords once you’re used to these,” he said. “They’re the ones on this rack.” He stood next to a rack full of long slender swords.
“Fencing,” Sirius began, “cannot be properly learned in just a few weeks. It takes dedication, perseverance, and improvement tends to be slow and steady. Eventually, you will both get to the point where every movement flows. I expect that failure will be common during the next few weeks, but I don’t want either of you to stop trying just because it’s hard to learn. I want you both to be stubborn! And persevere through the pain and frustration!” Sirius snapped. “You must come here every morning prepared to learn, if you aren’t, then you will fail! You must learn to control your tempers. If you lose your temper, then you will lose your fight!”
Harry gulped silently. Sirius was intent and focused. He was never that way normally.
“To that end, we will be teaching you meditation techniques, which are also the basis of Occlumency and several types of martial arts. You must be confident, but not arrogant!” Sirius continued, “You must be flexible, so you will be stretching before and after every session. You must be graceful, so Augusta will be coming here every afternoon to give you dance lessons.”
Both boys gulped nervously.
“You will be jogging, doing jumping jacks, pushups, stomach crunches, and jumping and trying to catch your knees against your chest before hitting the ground. Outside of this room I am friendly and fun, but in here I am your worst enemy! You will hate me! When you are back at school, you will continue with your practice even if I have to sneak in there and shock you awake every morning to do it! Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir!” both boys shouted out like Privates in the Military who just received orders from an officer.
“Good,” Sirius said smugly, “Then let’s get started. We will start with meditiation,” Sirius said, sitting cross-legged on a mat in the center of the room. “Boys, I want one of you on each side of me, and Remus across from me, so we are sitting in a circle.” Once they were seated, he continued, “Now, meditation when taught is usually the act of emptying your mind completely, but I don’t approve of that. It is easier for Darkness to control an empty mind than a full one. Dementors, for example, take advantage of the emptiness to fill it with all your worst memories. An accomplished Legilimens will fill it with whatever memories of yours that they want to see, or what they want you to see. If that occurs, the only way to stop them is to regain control of your mind, and only the mentally stronger of you will succeed. Therefore, I will be teaching you meditation where you select something to meditate on. It will keep your mind filled, and help you to focus. It will also give you better mental control, helping you with fending off Legilimens and Dementors, and controlling your tempers.”
Sirius smiled at them. “Often when you focus on a specific subject to meditate on, you learn something. Meditation means continued or extended thought, reflection, or contemplation. In the definition it says nothing about clearing your mind of all thought. So I want you to focus on something, anything. It could be something you learned in school, or something you read. I want you to focus on it, and when other things come up relating to it, ponder them too. We will be doing this for one hour.”
- - -
In the Potter Manor Ballroom, Augusta gazed at the two boys in front of her before beginning a speech rather reminiscent of Sirius’ about fencing. “Waltzing is a romantic, elegant dance. It is not jarring like the polka, or seductive like the tango. It isn’t as casual as the rhumba, as,” she wrinkled her nose, “loose as the merengue, or as dramatic as the mambo. Waltzing is classical. It is the dance of royalty.”
“Do you feel intimidated, too?” Harry whispered in Neville’s ear.
“Yup,” the other boy replied, eyes wide and fearful.
“Boys, pay attention,” Augusta said, glaring. “I needed help to teach you both, as I am currently incapable of being in two places at once, so one of my friends offered to help.”
“Please let it not be Madam Girard. Please let it not be Madam Girard,” Neville kept muttering under his breath.
“Why not?” Harry whispered, frowning in curiosity.
“She smells like onions, and her breath smells of tobacco,” Neville said. “And she pinches my cheeks whenever she sees me. When I was little, it wasn’t just the cheeks on my face, either.” He shuddered violently, while Harry just looked disgusted.
“I’m not late am I?” a voice came from the doorway, and to both boys' relief, it was Minerva McGonagall.
Augusta smiled. “Of course not, Minerva. I was just explaining to the boys about the differences in dance styles. We will, of course, be starting with the waltz.”
“Excellent,” the Transfiguration Professor said, unwrapping a knit shawl from her shoulders and dropping it onto a chair that was sitting against one wall.
“I will work with Neville, if you would be so kind as to work with Harry,” Augusta said.
Minerva nodded in response before walking over to Harry, who was looking more nervous by the minute. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Mr. Potter. I don’t bite unless I’m in cat form, and I think you’re safe from that.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Harry responded, blushing.
“Place your right hand on my waist, Mr. Potter,” Minerva instructed. “Don’t be shy.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her waist. “And hold your left arm out like this. With your elbow bent slightly, Mr. Potter,” she added when he held it out straight.
“Is this better?” Harry asked tentatively.
“Yes, it is.” She smiled down at him. “Please remember to lead me,” she said.
“Lead?” he asked, unsure of what that meant.
“Yes,” Minerva said. “You lead me around the dance floor. We certainly won’t be staying in just one place.”
“Oh,” Harry muttered, blinking his eyes several times.
“You will hold your partner’s hand like this,” Minerva instructed, placing her right hand in his left. “Now, you will step forward on your left foot on the count of one. On the second count, you bring your right foot forward, next to your left without stepping down, then immediately move it to the right and set it down. Then on the third count you bring your left foot next to your right, and set it down. Then on the next count of one, you step backward on your right foot. Then you bring your left foot backward and to the left on the second count, and bring your right foot next to the left on the third count. Do you have all that?”
“I think so,” Harry said. “I apologize in advance if I accidentally step on your feet, though.”
“Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to teach someone to dance. I know well to expect my feet to be stepped on.” The professor smiled slightly at her student. “I believe we are ready for music now, Augusta,” she said, turning slightly to face the other woman.
Augusta flicked her wand at an old phonograph in the corner of the room, and after the scratchy sound of nothing, the music started.
“One, two, three. One, two, three,” the professor began counting as they moved.
Harry stumbled on the first count and tried to move faster to catch up, only making himself stumble. Soon though he was moving with a modicum of grace, years of dodging Dudley’s punches aiding him now.
“Head up, Mr. Potter,” Minerva said. “A lady likes to think that her face is more interesting than your feet.”
Harry stumbled again for the first few steps while looking up, but soon got back into the pattern of the dance. Every now and then he stumbled or overstepped, landing on McGonagall’s feet by mistake.
“You both did very well for your first times dancing,” Augusta said when Harry and Minerva stopped dancing. “We will see you again tomorrow afternoon at this same time to continue our lessons. Alright?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Harry said.
At the same time, Neville said, “Yes, Gran.”
- - -
Meanwhile in Scotland…
“You wanted to see me, Professor,” Sirius said, entering the Headmaster’s office after hearing him say ‘enter’.
“Ah, yes, Sirius,” Albus Dumbledore said, beckoning his former student with one hand, eyes twinkling madly. “May I inquire as to where you are staying now that you’ve been released? I can’t imagine that you’d want to return to Black Manor.”
“You may inquire,” Sirius said, his own gray eyes sparkling, “But I am under no obligation to answer.”
The Headmaster laughed slightly, shaking his head, knowing that would be the only answer he’d receive from the Marauder.
“Now why don’t you get straight to the point, and ask me where Harry is, then tell me in all of your so-called wisdom that he must be returned to the Dursleys,” Sirius said, proving that despite all evidence to the contrary, he was quite intelligent.
“Actually, Sirius, that is not what I asked you here for. I am well aware that you will not tell me where young Mr. Potter is, nor will you allow him to be returned to his family,” Dumbledore said seriously.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but they are not his family. Family loves you, therefore they are no more his family than Walburga Black was mine,” Sirius said, his eyes briefly flashing with rage.
“Point taken,” Dumbledore said, sadness in his eyes. “In truth, I asked you here today in hopes that I could convince you to teach Defense this year. It would seem that I am once again in need of a new professor. We do go through them on a regular basis, don’t we,” he asked rhetorically, smiling softly despite the fact that the curse on the position was nothing to laugh at.
“Why me?” Sirius asked, not wanting to beat around the bush.
“In truth, Sirius, I am desperate. I have been unable to find anyone else for the position, and the Department of Education keeps threatening to assign a Ministry worker to the position if I don’t get someone. My only options are you or Remus as Alastor refuses to come out of retirement to teach ‘a bunch of snot-nosed brats’. You know that the Ministry would never allow a werewolf to teach, no matter how well he did on his NEWTs and WOMBATs in the subject. I could perhaps keep Remus’ condition a secret for a time, but there are those who would take pleasure in revealing his condition and accusing me of putting the children in danger,” Albus said, looking every one of his century and a half years of life.
Sirius stared at the Headmaster in shock after this speech and thought about what he was offering. On one hand it would be good for Harry to have him around all the time, and he could continue teaching the boys to fence. On the other hand, he had once sworn that he would never be in that sort of a position of authority. Really, Sirius Black, a teacher? It was ridiculous… but oddly enticing as well.
“I’ll do it, on one condition,” Sirius said, looking determined.
“And what is that?” Dumbledore asked, looking relieved.
“I have a second bedroom in my suite for Harry to stay in whenever he wants, even during the school term. There are no rules that say a student can only sleep in the dormitory, so it should be no problem,” Sirius said.
“That is acceptable,” Dumbledore said. “Now, I have one more favor to ask.”
Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I would like you to bring Harry to my office sometime soon so I may discuss his electives for this year with him,” the Headmaster said.
“Why?” Sirius asked in confusion.
The Headmaster sighed. “He signed up for Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes, but he really must take Divination. It’s imperative, Sirius,” he said solemnly.
Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “There is no way in hell that I will let you do that! Harry made his choices, and quite frankly, they were smarter ones than I made. Divination is a load of crap and you know it! Seers are born, not taught! If this is about his prophecy in the Department of Mysteries, then you’re wasting your time because he already knows it.”
“WHAT?” Dumbledore yelled, leaping to his feet. “He’s too young! He deserves a childhood! Really, Sirius, I thought better of you than this.”
Sirius glared at the old man. “For your information, he is the one who told me, not the other way around, and to be quite frank, he is more of an adult than I was when I was twenty. He is not depressed or incapable of realizing the severity of this. He is training to face that monster again, and he will still have some semblance of youth, as he will continue with Quidditch and having a girlfriend.”
“Very well,” Albus said, not looking pleased. “Then I expect that you will be rejoining the Order as we prepare for the continued fight against Voldemort.”
“Actually Headmaster,” Sirius said, smirking. “You can take your Group of the Charred Turkey and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine! Leave the preparing to those who are in need of it. Last time we were at odds with the Ministry, if Madam Bones wins the election then that will no longer be a problem. Furthermore, if you want to lead a band of fighters, then by Merlin, quit running a school and become the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!” Sirius yelled the last, making his point quite clear. “Also, if we have anymore incidents like the last two years, where my godson had to fight a Death Eater possessed by Voldemort, and a Basilisk controlled by Voldemort, then so help me, you will find yourself working in the Hog’s Head with Aberforth! You might have forgotten, but both the Potters and the Blacks have seats on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. The Blacks are distant descendents of Rowena’s, you know, and the Potter’s are true Gryffindors of the direct line. Take that and shove it up your skinny, wrinkled arse!”
Albus Dumbledore looked far more pale than normal, and simply responded, “So be it. I will not interfere unless it seems necessary.”
“So be it,” Sirius repeated the old man’s words.