Shadows of the Soul
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter and its characters belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not intend to make profit from this story.
Author's notes: This story starts in the summer before Harry's fourth year. Everything that happened before match the first three books. I am sorry if my english is not always perfect, it isn't my native language.
Chapter 1: Departure and Arrival
Even when he was alone in his room, being surrounded only by darkness, Harry just couldn't sleep. Three weeks ago, he had discovered the truth about his parents' deaths but he had also found something so much more important: his godfather.
Sirius didn't look like much when he first saw him at the Shrieking Shack. He had been unshaven, wearing rags but that didn't matter to Harry. The man had escaped Azkaban, braved Dementors which were ordered to literally suck his soul on sight, by coming at Hogwarts. All this with a single goal in mind: to save him.
Harry didn't care if Sirius Black was a broken man, probably a little crazy after thirteen years in Azkaban. His godfather has risked everything to stop Wormtail from harming him and that was something he would never forget. For the first time in his life, an adult had proven without a doubt that he loved him enough to sacrifice everything.
With that single thought in mind, nothing the Dursley said or did could really harm him anymore. As soon as Pettigrew's survival could be proven, Sirius would be declared innocent and they would live together as a family. He just couldn't wait for the day he would leave Privet Drive, forever.
He had been slowly drifting into slumber when he heard a noise coming from the bathroom, followed by something like a muttered curse. A minute after that, the door opened to reveal the silhouette of a man with long black hair.
-Hello, Harry.
The young man leaped from his head when he recognized the voice of the newcomer. Three seconds after that, he was hugging his godfather, a hundred of questions on his mind and his heart soaring with hope.
-Sirius! What are you doing here? I mean… I am very happy to see you but… how? Dumbledore said you had to hide all summer…
-Slow down, pup. One thing at a time. To be perfectly honest, I didn't ask for Dumbledore's permission. You are my godson and I'd be damned if I let you stay with these…people any longer than absolutely necessary.
In the moonlight, Harry was able to take a proper look at Sirius. His hair was clean and a little shorter than before. His face was still gaunt but a little fuller and younger maybe because of his smile.
A single question remained on his mind and he didn't wait to ask it.
-When are we leaving?
-As soon as you will have put all of your stuff in your trunk. I already left a… well, let's call it a "message" to the Dursley. I also need to remove the tracking charms Dumbledore has placed on you but it will only take a minute or two.
Packing his things didn't take much time since Harry had only taken out the bare minimum from it, which could be summed up as a Quidditch book, his photo album and a bag of chocolate frogs Hermione had bought for him at Hogsmeade earlier this year.
Fortunately, Hedwige had come back from her hunt a few hours ago so he wouldn't have to wait for her to return. She wasn't really happy to be back in her cage but Harry didn't have much of a choice. Ten minutes after Sirius' arrival, everything was packed in his trunk, which meant nothing of his belongings remained in the room. Harry didn't trust the Dursley with his things, imagining all too well the pleasure they would take from burning it in his absence.
He was roused from his thoughts when he heard a second voice coming from the corridor.
-All clear, Padfoot. I guess we have between twelve and fifteen hours before Dumbledore notices the change in the wards.
To say Harry was surprised would have been a euphemism since his jaw was almost literally on the floor.
-Professor Lupin!
-Good evening, Harry. I am pleased to see you're well and I insist you call me Remus or Moony. I know I am not your godfather or related to you but James and Lily were like family to me so I hope we can build some kind of friendship over time.
-Of course Prof… I mean Remus. But what are you doing here? I understand why Sirius would come but…
A shadow clouded the older man's eyes and for a moment, Harry thought he wouldn't answer him but he eventually did.
-It's complicated. The night your parents died, everything was taken away from me. I believed James, Lily and Peter had been murdered by none other than Sirius. Every close friend I had was gone and Dumbledore refused to tell the Order where you had been sent…
-The Order? Repeated Harry, not understanding what it was.
-Yes, the Order of the Phoenix but we will talk about it later. We have to go now, Moony or the plane will take off without us.
- Plane? We are going to travel by plane?
- Why of course. We couldn't swim all the way to France… well technically, we could but after the previous summer, the only kind of water I wish to swim in will have to be very, very warm.
It appeared to be so simple, Sirius, Remus and him, seated in the back of a cab, going to the airport like a normal family. Harry didn't even feel guilty of deceiving Dumbledore. The headmaster wanted him to be safe but the Gryffindor wanted to be happy and to live, really live.
Going to France sounded like a very nice start for this summer and with his godfather and his best Defense teacher, he was certain that it would be an interesting one as well.
Hidden in the shadows, the man saw the cab leave but he waited a few minutes before revealing himself. Draped in a black cloak, his face concealed by his hood, he crossed the road and took out a wand from his inner pocket.
He waved it a few times in different patterns, resulting in blue light glowing from the house during a few seconds before darkness covered everything once more. Raising his head a little, the lower part of this face became visible under the moonlight. The man smiled, seemingly satisfied with his work before whispering to himself.
-I gave you a few more hours of tranquility, enjoy them…
Then he apparated away almost silently, leaving no trace behind of his presence.
Harry had never travelled by plane before. To be honest, his only journeys had been by train, to go to Hogwarts but he had never gone away, His holidays had been either at Hogwarts or at Privet Drive but I knew neither had been true holidays.
Today, as the sun was rising on the horizon, the young man could see two things behind the window: the sky and clouds, countless clouds. Aboard this plane, Harry was flying much higher than he usually did on his broom and it was a very different feeling. He had virtually no control over the plane, which had made him nervous at first but after nearly an hour, he became quite relaxed.
Sirius was asleep at his right, snoring softly and producing sounds quite alike the growls of a dog. Next to him was Remus, who was reading what seemed to be a French newspaper, since he couldn't understand what was written.
-R… Remus, Harry spluttered, not quite accustomed to address his former professor by his first name, do you know exactly where we are going?
The son of James and Lily Potter only knew that they would land at Nice, one of the most populated cities in France, which was located on the Mediterranean coast.
-Yes. Actually, the Blacks own a house near Beauxbatons, the French Academy of Magic.
-I didn't know about other schools of magic. Are there more of them?
-Of course. There are numerous schools all around the world, like the Salem Witches' Institute in the United States but only three prestigious schools in Europe. Hogwarts in the United Kingdom, Beauxbatons in France and Durmstrang in Norway, I believe.
Harry felt a little ashamed. It seemed so logical that Hogwarts wasn't the only school of magic in the world but being a wizard had appeared to be so very special when Hagrid had first introduced him to this world, three years ago.
-Do they teach the same subjects as Hogwarts?
-More or less. Subjects like Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes are pretty much the same. History of Magic focuses more on the history of the country or local area of the school… I am not very knowledgeable on the subject but I believe the two other schools have specific subjects. For example, the Dark Arts are taught at Durmstrang, which is strictly forbidden at Hogwarts, except for some references in Defense Against the Dark Arts. At Beauxbatons, Alchemy is taught as an elective course for some of the more proficient students.
The young Potter wasn't interested in the Dark Arts but Alchemy appeared as an interesting subject. He remembered the Philosopher Stone from his first year and wondered if Nicolas Flamel and his wife were still alive.
-Mesdames et messieurs, nous allons atterrir dans quelques minutes. Veuillez regagner votre siège et attacher votre ceinture.
Remus translated the announcement for him. They were going to land in a few minutes and they had to fasten their safety belts. Harry had difficulty not to smile. He was going to enjoy his first summer vacations in company with two close friends of his parents, which seemed to genuinely want him to be happy.
He should have been pleased, enthusiastic but he couldn't help this feeling that things should not have happen this way.
With Sirius a few hundred miles away, the man had no problem getting inside Grimmauld Place. The house was so dark, so dusty that it was obvious no one had lived here in the last few years. With a gesture from his wand, the large chandelier became illuminated.
Walking in the hallway, he could see that the wallpaper was beginning to peel and the carpet was not in a much better state.
-Who dares entering the House of Black?
Seemingly not surprised by the voice, the newcomer slowly turned himself toward the portrait that had spoken to him. Lowering his hood, he smiled to the painting. Not older than twenty four or twenty five years old, he had long, black hair attached in a ponytail. A scar was visible on the left side from his face, from his forehead to his jaw. His eyes were unsettling, since the left was a deep blue whereas the right was green.
- My apologies, Mrs Black. I can't reveal you my name yet but I can show you this.
The dark haired man rose his left hand, showing the signet ring he was wearing. Walburga was left speechless when she recognized the coat of arms of the House of Black.
-How… this ring, I don't understand…
-I think it is a proof that I am a Black, in fact the Head of House Black since you disowned your elder son. You may call me Mr Black or James, if you wish but I require your complete cooperation.
- I understand. Kreacher!
A house elf appeared in front of James. He had a bulbous nose and bloodshot eyes, which showed loneliness and devotion.
- Mistress called Kreacher?
- Yes, you wretched elf! This is the new Head of the House of Black, Mr James Black. From now on, you will obey him as you would obey me, is that clear?
The elf was staring at the newcomer as if he could not believe what he was seeing. Since the passing of his mistress, almost nine years ago, he had served other members of the black family, mostly elderly people who died soon after coming at Grimmauld Place. Therefore, Kreacher was absolutely stunned to see a master, a young master, moving in. After three years of complete solitude, this was something of a miracle.
-Kreacher will obey Master James. What Kreacher can do for his new master?
To his utmost surprise, the wizard went down on bended knee and smiled. There was something strange about this wizard but his smile, it reminded him of his Master Regulus.
-Pleased to meet you, Kreacher. I want to move in, of course but… I also wish to help you fulfill the last wish of Regulus Black. Do you understand what I mean?
Kreacher was too surprised to speak but since his master has given him an order, even an indirect one, the elf had to obey. When he returned with a locket of heavy gold, with a serpentine S in glittering green stone inlay on the front, James Black was still here but he had something in his right hand.
Until his last breath, the house elf would never forget the beautiful sight of this silvery sword as it destroyed the object his beloved master had given his life to steal from the Dark Lord.