Hello All! I'm here with another fabulous fic. J/K. I hope you guys like it. This story just kinda hit me out of no where. Well here it goes. . .
Magic of a Memory
Chapter 1: The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black
Harry Potter, savior to the wizarding world, sat alone in his Godfather's house. It was a strange place, but Harry felt oddly at home in his new surroundings. Everyone in the house was a friend and all cared for his well being and happiness. That fact alone made the dark house feel warm.
It was currently one o'clock in the morning, and the boy-who-lived was far from sleep. Being the son of a marauder he often became restless and adventurous at odd hours such as this. He got up and began searching for a way to rid his self of the trouble causing feeling. However the thirst for mischief was not easily sated.
Wandering around Number Twelve Grimmald Place in the middle of the night was probably not one of the best ideas, but Harry couldn't convince himself to go back to bed. Some unknown force was pulling Harry up to the third floor and down the long hallway. He turned into the very last room on the left. Everything in the room was covered in a thick layer of dust. Harry looked around the room, he was trying to find a clue as to where he was. The head board on the bed had a name written on it. Regulous, Harry had never heard the name and found himself wondering if Sirius had had any siblings.
Harry glanced around the room once more before turning to leave. As he was pulling the door shut, something caught his eye. The closet on the far wall of the room stood ajar. He found his inner marauder pulling him to the door. Upon closer inspection he found that the doorknob was not covered in dust. Cautiously, he pulled the door open. There, in a seemingly deserted closet sat a pensive. Throwing caution to the wind, Harry dove into the pool of memories.
The young Gryffindor found himself back in number twelve, but the bed now held Sirius's name. Looking closer he noticed a lump of blankets in the center of the rather large four-poster bed.
"Sirius! Sirius get up! You now Mum hates it when you sleep in, " a seven-year old boy with short cropped black hair and cold grey eyes waltzed into the room as if he owned it. "Come on! I don't want to get in trouble just because you're not a morning person!"
Harry watched as the lump rolled out of bed, and had to stifle a gasp. The eleven year old Sirius Black looked almost exactly like the older one, minus a few feet and facial hair. He had the same shoulder length black hair and stormy grey eyes.
"Reg! It's only six!" well, at least he looked like the older Sirius, his voice, however, was a complete octave higher than his normal baritone. Regulus gave Sirius a look that said everything an annoying little brother would like to say.
Harry followed the two boys down the stairs to the kitchen. There, in front of him stood the infamous Madame Black, and she looked exactly like her portrait in the future. She glanced over Sirius and before starting a tirade on how he should take more pride in the way he looked and that it was an abomination that he hadn't yet received his Hogwarts letter.
As if on cue, a large bard owl swooped across the kitchen and plopped a letter in front of his Godfather. Sirius proceeded to tear the letter open before doing some weird kind of victory jig and singing obnoxiously, "I'm going to Hogwarts! Hogy, warty, Hogwarts!" Madame Black bellowed at him to stop acting like an inbred muggle and to go tell his father to get ready to go to Diagon Ally. All the way up the stairs Sirius hummed the melody to his made-up song.
Orion Black was not someone Harry would have wanted to bump into in the store, much less live with. Sirius had immediately stopped humming when he stepped into his fathers office. He listened as the eleven year old relayed his message without so much as blinking at the wrong time.
"Yes, a trip to Diagon Ally is in order, but if you so much as cause a spider to drop dead you won't see anything but the cellar until September. Do you understand me?" Harry couldn't stop himself from shaking uncontrollably. Mr. Black was defiantly not someone to cross. Sirius mumbled a hurried "yes sir" before leaving quickly.
The young Sirius went back to his room to gather clothes and what-not before going to the lavatory to shower. Harry was forced to wait as his eleven-year old godfather went through his normal morning routine. He was surprised at how much time the boy took in his appearance. At eleven Harry had simply thrown on clothes and ran a hand through his hair.
Sirius put on an air of culture much different than his normal one. He was, for the first time ever, conducting himself in a respectable manor. Madame Black still found something to yell at him about, but it didn't seem to phase him.
When Orion entered the kitchen everything went still. Nothing was stirring, not even an elf. The four flooed to Diagon Ally and the trip stayed just as dull. That is, until Sirius caught sight of a young black haired, hazel eyed boy, Harry recognized as his father, putting something in a woman with red-hair's drink.
Sirius couldn't contain his laughter when the woman took a sip and her hair went from scarlet to lilac. Orion slapped Sirius across the face and pulled him away roughly. As unpleasant as Madame Black was, Orion had her beat by a long shot. Which is probably why they made such a good couple.
After the incident with the woman the Black family left Diagon Ally as quickly as they could. When back at Number Twelve, Sirius was yelled at furiously and sent to the basement. Harry watched as his godfather sat in the basement alone in the dark, letting the tears he couldn't show anyone roll down his cheeks silently. The fifteen-year old felt his heart breaking at what the child version of Sirius was forced to endure.
Without knowing how, Harry was suddenly back in his own time period. He quietly found his way back to his room and laid down. He contemplated what he had seen and wondered how Sirius had turned out so loving. He vowed that he would go back tomorrow night to try and find out. There was no way he could ever live with himself if he didn't.