The House of Black passed on to the hands of the Boy Who Lived. Harry couldn't bare the idea of selling Sirius' home, even if he hated the house. Harry also loathed the idea of living there himself. He decided after several heart-to-heart talks with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to donate the House of Black to the cause of rebuilding the wizarding world. No longer a prison for anyone; Harry declared that number 12 Grimmauld Place would become a school and home for children who had lost their parents during the war. He'd make sure each of them knew their heritage and never felt alone, or had to hide who they were.
Over the summer after the end of the war Harry, Ron and Hermione had dedicated themselves to clearing out the house, getting it ready for the Ministry inspection. It was a welcome distraction for each of them. Early in the process, the three gathered there to clear out rubbish from each room. Harry decided the furniture would be dealt with later on.
"Harry, it's bloody hot in here. Can't we crack a window?" Ron asked wiping his forehead on the back of his arm.
Harry looked up from the stack of old faded papers he'd just pulled out of a desk drawer. He was about to say the heat was all in Ron's head but just then a bead of sweat rolled from his cheek and dripped onto the parchment. The ancient ink blurred as his salty perspiration soaked in.
"Yeah I suppose we should." Harry dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. He lifted his wand from the desk top and waved it at the windows closest to him. They snapped open and a violent breeze flooded the room, sending papers flying everywhere. Ron popped up from the floor and grabbed for the papers. Harry didn't see him and stumbled backward reaching for them. He tripped over Ron and they both hit the floor hard.
"Ow. You ok, mate?" Harry asked rubbing the back of his head.
"Yeah, I'm ok." Ron replied.
Hermione walked by the open doorway and paused. Looking at them on the floor, surrounded by parchment, she cocked her head.
"Taking a break, are you?" She said, smirking.
Harry rolled onto his knees and stood up, offering Ron his hand. He helped his friend to his feet and they both smiled sheepishly at Hermione.
"It was hot…" Ron managed to say.
Hermione winked at him and gave him an easy kiss on the cheek, his hand wrapped around her waist. She turned to Harry.
"I found something upstairs, in one of the studies. At least, I think I've found something." She said.
"Wait, what's this? I've found something too!" Ron said as he slipped his hand down to Hermione's bum and squeezed.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione elbowed him in the side.
"Naughty!" She said, swatting at him playfully. Ron grinned from ear to ear and Harry turned red.
"Ok, ok – you two are finally shagging, I'm thrilled. Can we move on?" He said laughing. "What is it you think you've found Hermione?"
"I'll let you take a look at it, Harry, but it looks like a trap door or something in the wall." She said. "I'm going to make some lemonade while you finish up in here, want some?"
The boys nodded and she smiled at them. She pinched Ron's bum before leaving the room and headed towards the kitchen.
Ron rubbed the back of his neck and turned a little redder. Harry shook his head.
"Well, stuff this lot." Ron said plunking the parchment down on the desk. "I'm thirsty." He walked past Harry and met Hermione in the kitchen.
Harry gathered the rest of what had blown around the room and added it to the pile Ron put down. Taking the whole stack in his hands, he took it with him.
Harry had grown quite used to his best friends making eyes at each other but now that they were an official couple, he found himself constantly startled when Ron and Hermione touched each other with the familiarity they suddenly had.
Harry entered the kitchen where Hermione was stirring a large glass pitcher of lemonade. Ron was standing directly behind her, the fingers of his left hand lightly rubbing her stomach as he softly kissed her neck and whispered in her ear. Harry couldn't know exactly what Ron was saying, but the blush on Hermione's cheek and the silly grin on her face told him Ron wasn't asking about how to make lemonade.
"Ahem." He said. The pair both jumped and looked up at him, smiling.
"What's all that, Harry?" Ron asked stepping to Hermione's side. He kept his arm around her waist, his thumb hooked in the belt loop of her jeans.
"I found it all in that roll top desk. It's mostly Black Family business. The parchment is all very old. I was just hoping…" his voice trailed off.
"Hoping what?" Ron asked as Hermione summoned three tumblers with her wand and poured the lemonade.
Harry gulped down half his tumbler before he spoke again.
"I don't know, Ron. I feel like I know – like I knew Sirius, and yet I didn't. I reckon I was hoping to find some trace of him in this house. Maybe even something of my father."
Hermione knit her eyebrows together in concern.
"Harry…didn't his family essentially disown him? His mother's portrait," Hermione gestured toward Mrs. Black's sheet-covered frame in the hall with a nod of her chin "certainly seems to hate him. Do you think they would have kept anything of his?"
Harry frowned. She did have a point; Hermione was often very irritating that way.
"You're right. They probably tossed most of his things. Even his bedroom is pretty void of him before he escaped from Azkaban." Harry sighed and casually leafed through each yellowed page in front of him.
"Mione, didn't you say you found something upstairs?" Ron asked. His hand had migrated from her waist up under her shirt and he was tracing his fingernails back and forth against the soft skin of her lower back.
"I did," she said, leaning gently over the counter. Harry looked away when he noticed for the first time that she was wearing a rather low-cut top and her cleavage showed. "There's an irregularity in the wallpaper that appears to be a patch-up job. My first thought is that there's a compartment or something in the wall."
Harry and Ron both nodded. They both assumed Hermione was correct because frankly, she usually was.
"Kreacher would know, wouldn't he?" Ron asked. He took a large gulp from his tumbler and wiped his upper lip on his forearm. He had rolled his shirt sleeves up and Hermione looked at his flexed bicep out of the corner of her eye.
Harry nodded again. "He ought to. I'd be surprised if there was any inch of this house Kreacher isn't familiar with. He was with the family for a very long time."
"And now he has to obey you, right?" Ron asked. He felt Hermione tense up next to him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes, thereby avoiding a fight with her. "What I meant to say of course is that the archaic and unfair practices of Elvish enslavement are such that Kreacher is honor-bound to serve the House of Black until such a time as he's presented with clothes, giving him his freedom."
Harry snorted.
Hermione grinned, raising an eyebrow at Ron.
"See? I do listen when you talk, Mione." He said.
She stood up and took his face in her hands, kissing him deeply. Harry looked away before he could see Ron enthusiastically massage Hermione's tongue with his own.
Suddenly, he heard the popping sound of someone Apparating in the hall. Soft footfalls echoed, whoever it was, they were headed for the kitchen. Harry barely had time to reach for his wand when a familiar shade of ginger hair caught his eye.
Ginny.
She was toeing off her trainers when she entered the kitchen and spied her brother and Hermione.
"Oh will you two get a room!" She said. "Harry, how do you put up with this endless snogging. Ugh, it's like Bill and Phlegm all over again."
Ron and Hermione came apart giggling.
"But we like Fleur now!" Hermione said wiping her mouth.
"Oh shush." Ginny said in a mock-scolding tone. "Ron, how would you like it if I was constantly doing this?" Ginny grabbed Harry by the wrist, placing his hand on her bum. Using her free hand, she snatched him by the shirt collar and pulled him into her, pushing her tongue past his teeth. Harry knew it was mostly a show for Ron's benefit but he thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. He held Ginny in place with a firm hand on her neck and he squeezed her bum tightly while he kissed her.
"As a matter of a fact I don't like it one bit! Oi, lay off!" Ron reached for Harry's arm but he knocked the pitcher over, sending the lemonade flying.
The sound of the pitcher falling startled Ginny and Harry enough that they stopped.
"Oh, Ron!" Hermione said. "You've spoilt it!" She cleaned up the mess with her wand and set to work making more.
Harry put his arm around Ginny's shoulder and Ginny cuddled into him.
"Harry and I shag all the time but you don't see it. Or hear it." Ginny said, provocatively looking at Hermione.
Hermione's eyes bugged open and she turned crimson. She turned away from Ginny, smirking.
"What do you mean, you shag all the time?" Ron asked, scandalized.
"I'd draw you a diagram, Ron but from what I hear, you're pretty familiar with the mechanics of it." Ginny said, teasing.
"Potter, I don't believe I gave you permission…" Ron glared at Harry.
"Ginny can shag anyone she likes." Hermione chimed in. "That came out wrong." She corrected herself when she saw Harry and Ginny's screwed-up expressions.
"What I mean is, Ginny doesn't need her big brother's permission, Ron." She finally said.
"We're going to end this conversation right here and pretend it never happened." Ron said, exhaling.
"So, Ginny – why'd you come by today? Want to help clean the place?" He said, hoping to change the subject.
Ginny exhaled and took Harry's hand. They interlaced their fingers and she straightened her back.
"I came to shag my boyfriend, actually." Ginny said and Apparated them both to a locked bedroom.
As soon as their toes hit the floor, Ginny cast a protective Charm on the room to keep Ron out. She wished she could have made it so that Ron could hear everything, but not find them. She might not be able to keep up with Hermione's moans and groans, but Ginny was sure she could make his blood boil.
"GINNY!" Ron's voice boomed from the kitchen. There was a stomping of heavy footsteps toward the stairs, which abruptly stopped. Harry assumed that Hermione had intervened. He sighed, relieved.
Ginny flopped down on the bed. If she had done that a few hours earlier, a giant dust cloud would have erupted from the mattress but Hermione had already finished cleaning it. That room in particular was easier than most of the others. It was sparsely decorated, no chest of drawers or other places for boggarts and other nasty surprises to hide in.
"Gin?" Harry asked, sitting on the bed next to her.
"Yes?" She said, her eyes closed and she folded her arms behind her head.
"Why did you tell him that?" Harry asked.
"Hmm?" She asked, as if she were lost in thought.
"Why'd you tell Ron that we shag all the time? We haven't yet." He lay down next to her, resting his head on his hand.
"Oh. Well you know I love taking the piss out of him." She explained, leaning up on her elbows.
"Right. So, not that I'm not chuffed to see you but, what are you doing here? You said you weren't free to help until next week." Harry asked.
"Yeah, about that." Ginny said tossing her hair backward and out of her face. "I'm ready."
"Ready for…?"
Ginny smiled softly. "I mean…I'm ready."
Harry needed a minute to ponder what she meant. He hoped with every fiber of his being that she didn't mean she was ready to learn how to play cricket.
"Brilliant! I mean…erm…are you…sure?" Harry's mind raced. He had hoped this day would come but as quickly as it had arrived, he panicked. What did this mean? What should he do? Shite. He had meant to finesse some more advice from Ron or George. He got little tidbits here and there but it was clearly awkward to ask your best friend about sex when you were dating that best friend's younger sister.
Ginny nodded. She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. She looked away.
"Gin, if you want more time, I've already told you – I'm in no rush." Harry turned her head toward him by her chin.
"No, I am. I am. For Merlin's sake, Harry – I'm not a virgin or anything." Ginny laughed a little.
"I know but…" It was Harry's turn to look away.
"Harry, when I had sex with Dean it was awful. I was trying desperately to get over my feelings for you, so I jumped into something I wasn't ready for. We rowed all the time. You remember? All the time. When we split up, I promised myself I would never jump into anything like that again. Now, we're together and it's lovely. I'm ready." Ginny took Harry's hand in hers and smiled when his green eyes locked with hers.
"Here? Now?" The words barely escaped his lips when his voice cracked with nerves.
"Way to go, Harry. You sound like such a desperate wanker." He thought to himself. "Wait a tick, I am a desperate wanker." He laughed softly.
"Could be here, if you want it to be. Or my room at home. Anywhere you want really. Seeing as it's your first time, I'll let you pick." Ginny said sweetly.
Harry hadn't given much thought about where it would happen. It didn't seem to matter. Now that the moment had arrived, he was nervous.
"How about this – when you're done for the day picking up here, meet me at home. I have a plan." Without waiting for a reply, Ginny kissed Harry deeply and Disapparated.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. He knew Hermione would agree that there must be some inherent Weasley trait that was irresistible.
Since he was upstairs anyway, he decided to look at the trap door Hermione mentioned. He found his way into the smaller of the studies and felt along the wall. After checking all the way around the room, he couldn't find anything and Harry puzzled. It wasn't often that Hermione was wrong. Harry stood in the doorway and looked at each wall. He'd remembered that Hermione said something about irregular wallpaper. Besides being faded with age, Harry didn't see anything that stood out. He stared at the vertical stripe pattern so long he felt his eyes start to cross.
"What the devil was Hermione talking about?" He wondered out loud.
Just then, Harry spied a small square of wallpaper that was indeed turned in the wrong direction. The stripes were going horizontally. It was plain to his eyes once he saw it but it was difficult to find such a small area in the large room. He pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed at the square.
"Revelio" He said. Nothing happened for a moment but after a puff of dust and a nearly imperceptible creaking noise, the square of wrong-way wallpaper swung away from the wall on a hinge.
"Brilliant, Hermione. As always." Harry said.
He approached the open door and got down on his knees to look. There was barely enough room for a shoebox to fit inside, Harry couldn't imagine anything of importance could be hidden there but he had already learned that looks could be deceiving.
"Lumos." He poked his wand inside and saw a small wooden chest. He dropped his wand and pulled the box out of the hole carefully. The Black Family Crest was carved ornately in the lid of the box. He was confused to see the box was not locked and was disheartened as he assumed that it had already been found and raided for its contents by Dung Fletcher.
Harry opened the beautiful box and his breath was stolen. Inside were what he assumed were a dozen vials of milky glass. He somehow knew instantly what they were and he knew who must have left them there to be found.
Somewhat dazed, Harry walked back down to the kitchen but Ron and Hermione weren't there anymore. He refilled his tumbler of lemonade and returned to the study he and Ron had been cleaning when Hermione offered them a drink.
He sat cross-legged on the floor and took each vial in his hand. He watched the grey smoke inside tumble and turn as he shook the vials in his hand. He heard commotion on the stairs. He tried to ignore it but it got louder. He rolled his eyes hearing Ron and Hermione giggling again. He never figured Ron for the giggling sort but apparently sex was giggle-inducing.
Harry also concluded that sex must also make one partially blind because they didn't notice Harry sitting there when Hermione suddenly jumped into Ron's arms, her legs wrapped around his waist and he playfully pinned her against the door, snogging her wildly.
"Nope! Don't mind me. I'm not even sitting here at all!" Harry shouted.
They each turned several shades of embarrassed and Hermione's feet landed back on the floor.
"Sorry, Harry." Hermione said, elbowing Ron playfully. She sat across from him and studied the items in his hand with interest, but she hesitated to touch them.
Harry looked up at Ron.
"A Pensieve. I need a Pensieve."
Ron nodded his head.
"We haven't found one here." He said, kneeling next to Hermione.
"There must be one. Sirius left this where we'd find it. There must be one somewhere." He clutched one of the vials in his hand. Inspiration struck. "Kreacher?" Harry called out.
With a familiar cracking noise, Kreacher appeared in front of them.
"Hello, Kreacher." Hermione said with a friendly smile. Kreacher barely acknowledged her; he snarled.
"Master is looking for something?" Kreacher addressed Harry.
"Yes I am. I'm looking for a Pensieve, Kreacher." Harry said cooly.
"No Pensieve here, Master. The thief Fletcher took it. Sold it. My mistress' Pensieve is gone."
"We're sorry he took it, Kreacher." Hermione said sympathetically. She reached a comforting hand out to his shoulder but Kreacher swatted at her knuckles.
"Will Master instruct the Mudblood not to touch Kreacher?" He growled.
"Touch her again and I'll sort you out, you ugly little…" Ron said angrily.
"Ron, don't." Hermione said, gesturing to hold him back.
"Kreacher, you know you can't lie to me." Harry said, his voice sounding cold.
Kreacher squinted his eyes at Harry and through gritted teeth he said "Yes, Kreacher knows he cannot lie."
"So, where is Master Sirius' Pensieve, Kreacher?"
He snarled again.
"Kreacher. You said Mundungus stole your Mistress' Pensieve. Did Master Sirius have one as well?"
"Yes. Kreacher wasn't lying, Master. Kreacher was trying to keep the Mudblood and the dirty Blood Traitor from finding it."
"Kreacher – speak that way about my friends again and I'll buy you a brand new pair of socks for every day of the year." Harry snapped at him. Kreacher recoiled in horror.
"Kreacher will get it, Master. Kreacher will." He Disapparated with a pop and was back in an instant, holding a black glass Pensieve in his tiny, wrinkled hands.
"Thank you, Kreacher. You may go back to the kitchen at Hogwarts now." Harry dismissed him.
Kreacher bowed his head and Disapparated again.
"More than one way to skin a cat, eh?" Ron said.