The Greater Good
By Kiana
The summer after Harry's fourth year, the Dursleys become fed-up his wizarding skills. They lock him in the cupboard and plan to send him to Stonewall- until a midnight visit sends Harry on a hunt for the Crest of Isis. For anyone who wants to see a fight between Pettigrew and those he slighted, or see the Dursleys meet Sirius Black!
Everything belongs to J K Rowling except Isis, Sonna Ibse, the Shieena, and a few random idiots. If I were making any money from this, I wouldn't be writing this disclaimer.
Chapter I:
The Last Straw
The sun was just beginning to reach the lowermost side of his window when Harry was rudely awakened by a loud crash and the sounds of his rather porkey cousin, Dudley, bawling at the top of his lungs.
"B-b-but you said we could go to the FAIR!" the boy whined loudly from somewhere downstairs- probably the kitchen, as that was where he spent the majority of his waking hours.
"But, Diddydums," Aunt Petunia insisted, "What can we do? We can't just leave HIM in the house alone- goodness knows what state we'll find it in when we get back!"
By 'Him', Harry knew they were referring to he, Harry Potter. Though outsiders might have found it to be mean and down-right disgraceful, Harry was used to the Dursleys behaving as though he were something nasty and disgraceful. This treatment had doubled since he had started Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, when his aunt and uncle had added 'abnormal' to the list of things wrong with him.
"But I don't care if he's here alone," Dudley protested, "just lock him in the cupboard, or something."
"And risk the wrath of that murdering godfather of his?!" Uncle Vernon sounded like something being run over.
Harry smirked into his pillow, knowing full well what was going on in the minds of those downstairs. Should they chance Harry being unattended for many hours? Take him along and just let Dudley cry about it? Or . . .
His smirk turning very rapidly into a wide grin, Harry reflected that Sirius Black had become a valuable asset in his daily negotiations with the Dursleys over matters such as chores, privileges, and where he slept.
"POTTER!!" Uncle Vernon bellowed up the stairs.
Harry climbed out of the old bed, kicking his sheets onto the floor by accident. He wondered vaguely if he should tell Dudley that Sirius would want him to pick them up for his younger cousin.
Downstairs, only Vernon was standing- Petunia was sitting on one of the wood framed chairs with Dudley on her lap. Harry found this rather ridiculous, as the fifteen-year-old was so large that it was a wonder he didn't crush her.
"Yes?" Harry asked, wondering which choice they found the least horrible. Uncle Vernon was a bright purple colour, closely resembling a large, red onion.
"This has gone far enough, boy," he said, trying to keep his composure.
"What has?" Harry asked. So far, he didn't see anything he'd done wro-
"THIS WHOLE BLOODY WIZARD RUBBISH!!" Vernon exploded. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF IT! ALL OF IT!"
This was not one of the options Harry had predicted, and for a fleeting moment he wondered if he was, after all, going to be sent back to the cupboard under the stairs. Sirius wouldn't like that . . .
"Excuse me?" Harry said, "I'm not quite sure what you're getting at, but I do need to go back upstairs and finish my letter to my godfath- "
"YO'LL DO NOTHING OF THE SORT!" Vernon raged. "Your abnormality has been causing this family grief for nearly five years! I'm putting my foot down! No more MAGIC," he spat, like an obscenity, "no more ruddy owls screeching in the middle of the night, and NO MORE SIRUS BLACK!!"
"It's 'Sirius'," Harry said coldly. Rant and rave though he might, Vernon was digging himself into a trap. If Harry couldn't write to Black, then his godfather would get worried and think that something was wrong.
His uncle looked about to pop. He thrust a finger at Harry, started to say something, stopped, then stood there seeming quite unsure what to do. Harry blinked at him calmly, waiting.
When nothing else happened, he shrugged, turned to go back upstairs, and said lightly, "Right, then. Can I go?"
"OH, NO YOU DON'T!!" Uncle Vernon pushed past him and charged up the stairs, leaving Harry standing dumbstruck in the parlour.
There was the thin sound of glass breaking, followed closely by several heavy thumps. Harry just barely managed to restrain himself from dashing up the stairs to make sure the sounds weren't coming from his room; if they were, he thought grimly, then the Dursleys would have to explain it all to Sirius.
After a bit, Uncle Vernon pounded back into the living room. "You," he said, pointing at Harry, "go to your cupboard."
Harry stood where he was.
"DID YOU HEAR ME?!" Vernon shouted
Harry tilted his head to the side, looking calmly up at him. "You know, if you don't let me write to Sirius, he'll start to think you're mistreating me."
His uncle turned a pale shade of green. "Well, then," he stammered, then regained control, "if he shows his bloody face around here, I'll have to call the police!"
"The police?" Harry said scornfully, "Against a fully-trained wizard?" He had forgotten for a moment that Sirius didn't have a wand with him- but then again, Vernon didn't know that.
"Get . . . going," his uncle hissed between his teeth. Harry sighed, knowing it would only be a matter of time before . . . well . . . something happened.
* * *
Harry spent almost a full month in the cupboard waiting for that something to happen. He wondered if something had happened to Sirius, if he'd been caught . . . or killed. Thinking about what might have befallen his godfather made Harry feel very sick, and the mental pictures that scrolled by only made it ten times worse.
Most likely, he kept reminding himself, Sirius was starting to get worried, but hadn't yet formulated a plan on what to do about it.
By the end of July, the Dursleys were obviously beginning to think that they were out of Sirius Black's reach. Uncle Vernon began whistling the same tune over and over when he left for work in the mornings, and Aunt Petunia began handing Harry as many chores as she had back before he'd known he was a wizard. Dudley couldn't resist pointing out Black's absence whenever he saw Harry, but never did get back into his old habit of using him as a punching bag.
Harry was feeling more and more depressed as the days wore on. At least he had Hogwarts to look forward to, in Septembre. But then one morning, during breakfast, Aunt Petunia said lightly to her husband, "Well, they've accepted him."
"Accepted who?" Dudley asked, through a large wad of bacon and eggs.
"Him," Petunia said.
"Who's accepted me?" Harry asked.
"Stonewall," Uncle Vernon grunted, without looking up from his paper.
"WHAT?!" Harry spat out his eggs, gaping at them. "But I can't- I mean- I go to Hog- "
"I told you I'd had enough of that nonsense," Vernon growled.
Furious, Harry shoved himself out of his chair and marched back to his cupboard, head spinning. It was no use trying to go to his room, as his uncle had boarded it up weeks ago.
'Dear Sirius,' he mentally composed, 'the Muggles locked me in a cupboard and tell me I'm going to a Muggle school next year. They say I'm not allowed to write to you, and that I can't be a wizard. Please come and turn them into wombats. Yours, Harry.'
The idea made Harry feel better.
Early the next morning- or late that night; Harry couldn't tell- there was a sort of a loud banging noise coming from somewhere outside his cupboard. At first he had thought it part of his dream, but then he heard Uncle Vernon's pounding footsteps, followed by his aunt and Dudley.
"Ruddy morons . . . at this hour," he heard Vernon grumble as they passed his cupboard. For a wild moment Harry hoped it was Sirius Black, but no, more likely the mailman inquiring about a letter sent to Harry, like the time right before his fourth year at Hogwarts.
"WHAT THE DICKENS DO YOU WANT?!" he heard his uncle bellow, opening the front door.
"Mr Dursley?"
"What?!"
"I'm here to ask about your nephew, Harry."
"There's no one here by that name!" Vernon roared, "Who the devil are you?!"
A long pause, then the man replied, "Harry's godfather, Sirius Black."
Chapter Two:
A Message from Gwynnadale
"EEAAHHH!!!"
There followed another crash as the Dursleys tried to scramble back from the doorway, guard Dudley, and slam the door. By the sounds they were making, Harry guessed that they had accomplished not one of these tasks.
He could here Dudley's heavy footsteps pounding through the house, and the back window sliding open. Moments later, Dudley squawked, "ARRGH! I'M STUCK!"
More sounds of struggling, then-
"STOP!!"
The Dursleys quit banging around and stood very still at the sound of Sirius' sharp tone. Aunt Petunia was crying something below Harry's hearing range.
"Thank you. . ! That's better," Sirius said, and the front door closed. "Now, where's Harry? He isn't sick, is he?" He actually sounded concerned, Harry thought. That wasn't something he was used to, living with the Dursleys.
"I'M IN HERE!!" Harry shouted through the cupboard door. Moments later, the wooden panel was yanked open, and Harry clambered out, brushing spider webs from his hair.
"Wha- " Sirius Black, barely visible in the dim lighting, looked him up and down. "What were you DOING in a cupboard, Harry?"
Freed from his cupboard, Harry looked around, spotted Dudley's fat bottom hanging out of the back window, and his aunt and uncle quivering in terror on the floor. Harry, who had been fanaticizing about this very moment since he had returned from Hogwarts his third year, gave his godfather a whimpering look, trying to seem as pathetic as possible.
Sirius, who was staring at the dark opening, apparently realized that the lock was on the outside, because he turned slowly around to face Vernon and Petunia.
"You didn't lock him IN there, did you?" His voice was soft and dangerous; his face was bathed in darkness.
"They did," Harry said. "They told me I was going to a Muggle school from now on, and I couldn't be a wizard, and they wouldn't let me out, and they wouldn't let me write to you."
Sirius Black loomed over the Dursleys, seeming every bit the murderer he had been convicted as. "Is this true?"
"N-n-n-NO!" Vernon gasped out, "H-Harry was looking for- for spiders, and, er, the door must've locked on accident- "
Sirius dropped to his knees, grabbed the collar of Vernon's shirt and yanked the trembling man right around to stare him coldly in the face. "DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT RUBBISH?!" he roared, "SPIDERS?!? HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE SPIDERS!!"
Petunia screamed, clawing at Uncle Vernon's arm. Dudley, still stuck in the window frame, kicked his legs and bawled.
Harry watched Sirius' shadowed face turn even darker. Though he relished the idea of the Dursleys being spiders, he would feel awfully guilty about banishing them completely from the human world. "Sirius, don't! They're not worth it. Leave 'em be," he said.
Sirius turned to stare at him, then angrily jabbed a finger at Vernon and Petunia. "Harry, these- these filthy, disgusting, pathetic excuses for human beings don't deserve- "
"HELP!" Dudley wailed. "Help! I'm stuck! I can't feel my legs!"
For the first time, Black seemed to notice him. "Who is THAT pudgy balloon?"
"Dudley," Harry said, and Aunt Petunia screamed again.
"NO! LEAVE MY POOR BABY ALONE, YOU FOUL, MURDERING FREAK!!"
Sirius rounded on them. "AND NOT HARRY?! FOR ALL YOU SEEM TO KNOW, I COULD BE AFTER HIM!! DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT HIS POOR BOY AT ALL?!"
Sirius whipped a hand into his robe; drew it out a fraction of a second later. Now, clasped tightly in his right fist- so tightly that his knuckles were turning white- was a long, slender wand. He aimed this right at Mr Dursley.
"SIRIUS, NO!!" Harry grabbed his godfather's arm, causing the wand to point harmlessly at the carpeted floor.
Sirius stared at him, started to say something, then stopped. "Harry, they- "
"They're not worth it. Come on," he pulled harder on his godfather's sleeve, turning him towards the door.
But Sirius turned back to the Dursleys. "Harry," he said, "maybe you should wait outside for a moment."
Harry hesitated, watching his aunt, uncle, and cousin all but wet themselves in terror. "But- "
Black looked at him for a long moment, then his face relaxed. He walked over to where Dudley was hanging half in, half out of the back window. Sirius grabbed him roughly by one chubby leg and hauled him back inside, ignoring the boy's frantic whimpering.
He pointed his want at Vernon and Petunia, keeping it leveled as he crossed back to where Harry was standing.
Then, less than a metre from Harry's aunt and uncle, Sirius jabbed his wand fiercely at them, and hissed, "If I ever find out that you've done anything to Harry like this again, I swear that regret it for as long as you lived."
With that, Harry's godfather lowered the wand and motioned for the boy to follow him out into the night.
A/N: This is the first-ever serious Harry Potter story I've begun, so PLEASE tell me what you think. Should I continue or stick to comedy? Thanks to star magic, draca weasley, Willowstar, and opheliac for reviewing that one, by the way!
By Kiana
The summer after Harry's fourth year, the Dursleys become fed-up his wizarding skills. They lock him in the cupboard and plan to send him to Stonewall- until a midnight visit sends Harry on a hunt for the Crest of Isis. For anyone who wants to see a fight between Pettigrew and those he slighted, or see the Dursleys meet Sirius Black!
Everything belongs to J K Rowling except Isis, Sonna Ibse, the Shieena, and a few random idiots. If I were making any money from this, I wouldn't be writing this disclaimer.
Chapter I:
The Last Straw
The sun was just beginning to reach the lowermost side of his window when Harry was rudely awakened by a loud crash and the sounds of his rather porkey cousin, Dudley, bawling at the top of his lungs.
"B-b-but you said we could go to the FAIR!" the boy whined loudly from somewhere downstairs- probably the kitchen, as that was where he spent the majority of his waking hours.
"But, Diddydums," Aunt Petunia insisted, "What can we do? We can't just leave HIM in the house alone- goodness knows what state we'll find it in when we get back!"
By 'Him', Harry knew they were referring to he, Harry Potter. Though outsiders might have found it to be mean and down-right disgraceful, Harry was used to the Dursleys behaving as though he were something nasty and disgraceful. This treatment had doubled since he had started Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, when his aunt and uncle had added 'abnormal' to the list of things wrong with him.
"But I don't care if he's here alone," Dudley protested, "just lock him in the cupboard, or something."
"And risk the wrath of that murdering godfather of his?!" Uncle Vernon sounded like something being run over.
Harry smirked into his pillow, knowing full well what was going on in the minds of those downstairs. Should they chance Harry being unattended for many hours? Take him along and just let Dudley cry about it? Or . . .
His smirk turning very rapidly into a wide grin, Harry reflected that Sirius Black had become a valuable asset in his daily negotiations with the Dursleys over matters such as chores, privileges, and where he slept.
"POTTER!!" Uncle Vernon bellowed up the stairs.
Harry climbed out of the old bed, kicking his sheets onto the floor by accident. He wondered vaguely if he should tell Dudley that Sirius would want him to pick them up for his younger cousin.
Downstairs, only Vernon was standing- Petunia was sitting on one of the wood framed chairs with Dudley on her lap. Harry found this rather ridiculous, as the fifteen-year-old was so large that it was a wonder he didn't crush her.
"Yes?" Harry asked, wondering which choice they found the least horrible. Uncle Vernon was a bright purple colour, closely resembling a large, red onion.
"This has gone far enough, boy," he said, trying to keep his composure.
"What has?" Harry asked. So far, he didn't see anything he'd done wro-
"THIS WHOLE BLOODY WIZARD RUBBISH!!" Vernon exploded. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF IT! ALL OF IT!"
This was not one of the options Harry had predicted, and for a fleeting moment he wondered if he was, after all, going to be sent back to the cupboard under the stairs. Sirius wouldn't like that . . .
"Excuse me?" Harry said, "I'm not quite sure what you're getting at, but I do need to go back upstairs and finish my letter to my godfath- "
"YO'LL DO NOTHING OF THE SORT!" Vernon raged. "Your abnormality has been causing this family grief for nearly five years! I'm putting my foot down! No more MAGIC," he spat, like an obscenity, "no more ruddy owls screeching in the middle of the night, and NO MORE SIRUS BLACK!!"
"It's 'Sirius'," Harry said coldly. Rant and rave though he might, Vernon was digging himself into a trap. If Harry couldn't write to Black, then his godfather would get worried and think that something was wrong.
His uncle looked about to pop. He thrust a finger at Harry, started to say something, stopped, then stood there seeming quite unsure what to do. Harry blinked at him calmly, waiting.
When nothing else happened, he shrugged, turned to go back upstairs, and said lightly, "Right, then. Can I go?"
"OH, NO YOU DON'T!!" Uncle Vernon pushed past him and charged up the stairs, leaving Harry standing dumbstruck in the parlour.
There was the thin sound of glass breaking, followed closely by several heavy thumps. Harry just barely managed to restrain himself from dashing up the stairs to make sure the sounds weren't coming from his room; if they were, he thought grimly, then the Dursleys would have to explain it all to Sirius.
After a bit, Uncle Vernon pounded back into the living room. "You," he said, pointing at Harry, "go to your cupboard."
Harry stood where he was.
"DID YOU HEAR ME?!" Vernon shouted
Harry tilted his head to the side, looking calmly up at him. "You know, if you don't let me write to Sirius, he'll start to think you're mistreating me."
His uncle turned a pale shade of green. "Well, then," he stammered, then regained control, "if he shows his bloody face around here, I'll have to call the police!"
"The police?" Harry said scornfully, "Against a fully-trained wizard?" He had forgotten for a moment that Sirius didn't have a wand with him- but then again, Vernon didn't know that.
"Get . . . going," his uncle hissed between his teeth. Harry sighed, knowing it would only be a matter of time before . . . well . . . something happened.
* * *
Harry spent almost a full month in the cupboard waiting for that something to happen. He wondered if something had happened to Sirius, if he'd been caught . . . or killed. Thinking about what might have befallen his godfather made Harry feel very sick, and the mental pictures that scrolled by only made it ten times worse.
Most likely, he kept reminding himself, Sirius was starting to get worried, but hadn't yet formulated a plan on what to do about it.
By the end of July, the Dursleys were obviously beginning to think that they were out of Sirius Black's reach. Uncle Vernon began whistling the same tune over and over when he left for work in the mornings, and Aunt Petunia began handing Harry as many chores as she had back before he'd known he was a wizard. Dudley couldn't resist pointing out Black's absence whenever he saw Harry, but never did get back into his old habit of using him as a punching bag.
Harry was feeling more and more depressed as the days wore on. At least he had Hogwarts to look forward to, in Septembre. But then one morning, during breakfast, Aunt Petunia said lightly to her husband, "Well, they've accepted him."
"Accepted who?" Dudley asked, through a large wad of bacon and eggs.
"Him," Petunia said.
"Who's accepted me?" Harry asked.
"Stonewall," Uncle Vernon grunted, without looking up from his paper.
"WHAT?!" Harry spat out his eggs, gaping at them. "But I can't- I mean- I go to Hog- "
"I told you I'd had enough of that nonsense," Vernon growled.
Furious, Harry shoved himself out of his chair and marched back to his cupboard, head spinning. It was no use trying to go to his room, as his uncle had boarded it up weeks ago.
'Dear Sirius,' he mentally composed, 'the Muggles locked me in a cupboard and tell me I'm going to a Muggle school next year. They say I'm not allowed to write to you, and that I can't be a wizard. Please come and turn them into wombats. Yours, Harry.'
The idea made Harry feel better.
Early the next morning- or late that night; Harry couldn't tell- there was a sort of a loud banging noise coming from somewhere outside his cupboard. At first he had thought it part of his dream, but then he heard Uncle Vernon's pounding footsteps, followed by his aunt and Dudley.
"Ruddy morons . . . at this hour," he heard Vernon grumble as they passed his cupboard. For a wild moment Harry hoped it was Sirius Black, but no, more likely the mailman inquiring about a letter sent to Harry, like the time right before his fourth year at Hogwarts.
"WHAT THE DICKENS DO YOU WANT?!" he heard his uncle bellow, opening the front door.
"Mr Dursley?"
"What?!"
"I'm here to ask about your nephew, Harry."
"There's no one here by that name!" Vernon roared, "Who the devil are you?!"
A long pause, then the man replied, "Harry's godfather, Sirius Black."
Chapter Two:
A Message from Gwynnadale
"EEAAHHH!!!"
There followed another crash as the Dursleys tried to scramble back from the doorway, guard Dudley, and slam the door. By the sounds they were making, Harry guessed that they had accomplished not one of these tasks.
He could here Dudley's heavy footsteps pounding through the house, and the back window sliding open. Moments later, Dudley squawked, "ARRGH! I'M STUCK!"
More sounds of struggling, then-
"STOP!!"
The Dursleys quit banging around and stood very still at the sound of Sirius' sharp tone. Aunt Petunia was crying something below Harry's hearing range.
"Thank you. . ! That's better," Sirius said, and the front door closed. "Now, where's Harry? He isn't sick, is he?" He actually sounded concerned, Harry thought. That wasn't something he was used to, living with the Dursleys.
"I'M IN HERE!!" Harry shouted through the cupboard door. Moments later, the wooden panel was yanked open, and Harry clambered out, brushing spider webs from his hair.
"Wha- " Sirius Black, barely visible in the dim lighting, looked him up and down. "What were you DOING in a cupboard, Harry?"
Freed from his cupboard, Harry looked around, spotted Dudley's fat bottom hanging out of the back window, and his aunt and uncle quivering in terror on the floor. Harry, who had been fanaticizing about this very moment since he had returned from Hogwarts his third year, gave his godfather a whimpering look, trying to seem as pathetic as possible.
Sirius, who was staring at the dark opening, apparently realized that the lock was on the outside, because he turned slowly around to face Vernon and Petunia.
"You didn't lock him IN there, did you?" His voice was soft and dangerous; his face was bathed in darkness.
"They did," Harry said. "They told me I was going to a Muggle school from now on, and I couldn't be a wizard, and they wouldn't let me out, and they wouldn't let me write to you."
Sirius Black loomed over the Dursleys, seeming every bit the murderer he had been convicted as. "Is this true?"
"N-n-n-NO!" Vernon gasped out, "H-Harry was looking for- for spiders, and, er, the door must've locked on accident- "
Sirius dropped to his knees, grabbed the collar of Vernon's shirt and yanked the trembling man right around to stare him coldly in the face. "DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT RUBBISH?!" he roared, "SPIDERS?!? HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE SPIDERS!!"
Petunia screamed, clawing at Uncle Vernon's arm. Dudley, still stuck in the window frame, kicked his legs and bawled.
Harry watched Sirius' shadowed face turn even darker. Though he relished the idea of the Dursleys being spiders, he would feel awfully guilty about banishing them completely from the human world. "Sirius, don't! They're not worth it. Leave 'em be," he said.
Sirius turned to stare at him, then angrily jabbed a finger at Vernon and Petunia. "Harry, these- these filthy, disgusting, pathetic excuses for human beings don't deserve- "
"HELP!" Dudley wailed. "Help! I'm stuck! I can't feel my legs!"
For the first time, Black seemed to notice him. "Who is THAT pudgy balloon?"
"Dudley," Harry said, and Aunt Petunia screamed again.
"NO! LEAVE MY POOR BABY ALONE, YOU FOUL, MURDERING FREAK!!"
Sirius rounded on them. "AND NOT HARRY?! FOR ALL YOU SEEM TO KNOW, I COULD BE AFTER HIM!! DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT HIS POOR BOY AT ALL?!"
Sirius whipped a hand into his robe; drew it out a fraction of a second later. Now, clasped tightly in his right fist- so tightly that his knuckles were turning white- was a long, slender wand. He aimed this right at Mr Dursley.
"SIRIUS, NO!!" Harry grabbed his godfather's arm, causing the wand to point harmlessly at the carpeted floor.
Sirius stared at him, started to say something, then stopped. "Harry, they- "
"They're not worth it. Come on," he pulled harder on his godfather's sleeve, turning him towards the door.
But Sirius turned back to the Dursleys. "Harry," he said, "maybe you should wait outside for a moment."
Harry hesitated, watching his aunt, uncle, and cousin all but wet themselves in terror. "But- "
Black looked at him for a long moment, then his face relaxed. He walked over to where Dudley was hanging half in, half out of the back window. Sirius grabbed him roughly by one chubby leg and hauled him back inside, ignoring the boy's frantic whimpering.
He pointed his want at Vernon and Petunia, keeping it leveled as he crossed back to where Harry was standing.
Then, less than a metre from Harry's aunt and uncle, Sirius jabbed his wand fiercely at them, and hissed, "If I ever find out that you've done anything to Harry like this again, I swear that regret it for as long as you lived."
With that, Harry's godfather lowered the wand and motioned for the boy to follow him out into the night.
A/N: This is the first-ever serious Harry Potter story I've begun, so PLEASE tell me what you think. Should I continue or stick to comedy? Thanks to star magic, draca weasley, Willowstar, and opheliac for reviewing that one, by the way!