Forget Me Not
~Chapter 1: The Discovery~
The night sky overhead was gloomy as the shimmery moonlight radiated an eerie glow that sent chills rolling down Harry's spine as it illuminated the abandoned house before him. As he looked up to the once familiar and welcoming house at 12 Grimmauld Place. After years of neglect the house now appeared old and sickly in desperate need of attention. The shabby house looked frightfully miserable with its shattered windows and worn paint. It had been five years since he last set foot inside the house; he had done everything to avoid going back.
The last few years he had been living with the Weasleys. Ron had long since moved out and married Hermione. Harry often thought about their time at Hogwarts and the adventures they had once eagerly went in search after. Now those days are long gone and although he should be moving forward in life, Harry found himself trapped in the glory days of his youth, an undesirable position of sanity. Harry did enjoy the company that came from living with the Weasleys, he feared that he had over stayed his welcome. He also felt that he owed it to Ginny to get their own place. It had not been easy for her to live the married life in her parent's home. So Harry reluctantly agreed to move to his late godfather's house. After all, he had left it to him in his will.
Harry took a deep breath before walking up to the front door. As he unlocked the door he half expected to see Sirius standing on the other side waiting patiently for his return. He pushed the old rusty door and it let out a low creaky noise. Harry set foot into the front room, slowly entering the house. Memories flooded his mind as he stood there surveying the foreground. Dust flooded the air as he explored the rest of the house. Each room presented its own memory. As he turned down the hall on the first floor he came across the set of stairs leading to the second floor. Harry began climbing the stairs up keeping one hand on the railing. As he reached the top he saw a flicker of light come from one of the rooms.
Harry walked farther down the hall, he wasn't quite sure if he had actually saw a light come from one of the rooms or if he had just imagined the whole thing. The house was just as dark as outside, Harry brought out his wand and said, "Lumos." A beam of light shone from the end of his wand like a flashlight through the darkness. Harry came across a room that he had not seen before, in which boxes were stacked in a disorderly manner in the back corner of the room, as if they had been shoved in a hurry. Great thought Harry, more to sort through.
As Harry walked further into the room he was overwhelmed with the smell of burnt flowers. That's odd, he thought as he approached the boxes which seemed to be the source of the scent. Harry stared down at the disarray of boxes, where to begin? There was one box that stood out to him, although it was cornered and hidden behind the rest there seemed to be a glow from within. He curiously picked up the small box he was startled to find that it had weighed slightly more than he had expected. Harry began mindlessly shuffling through its contents but didn't immediately find anything too particular. He put his hand in the box and grabbed a handful of glossy paper he recognized as photographs. There were a mixture of Muggle and Wizard photos within the contents of the box, most of them burnt.
At first glance he only saw figures of men and women in both Wizard cloaks and Muggle clothing. In the first photograph he viewed there was a young girl smiling with her arm laced with a dark mysterious figure. Harry couldn't make out the person she was with due to the singes made by the apparent fire. In a second photo he closely examined the same child in a typical Muggle family portrait, a man and a woman grinning with one hand on the outside shoulder of each of their two young girls in front of them.
In another photo as with all wizard pictures, the people within moved about as if they were still living in that particular moment. When he spotted a young couple cradling a newborn he stopped and focused on the small family. He knew these people, he would recognize them anywhere. They were his parents holding him. Harry sat staring at the young couple move their eyes from the child to each other as if in amazement that this small creature now in their arms comes from a part of them.
In a dash Harry dove into the rest of the contents of the dusty box. Each picture revealing more of the life he had at one time shared with his parents. As Harry searched through the remaining contents of the box he found a black journal with silver pages. When the moonlight hit it the glimmer seemed to fill the darkness that had engulfed the house. This must have been what I had seen, thought Harry.
Harry sat baffled, how long had Sirius have these belongings and why had he never given them to Harry? The masculine journal lay in his hands as he sat staring wondering what he should do next. "Could this journal have been his father's?" Harry wondered aloud. Unless it belonged to Sirius, but why would it be here along with his parents intimate photos? He needed answers. Harry summoned Kreacher, the house-elf left to him as well in his godfather's will. Immediately after he heard the crack of Kreacher's Apparition Harry began to question him, demanding answers.
"Do you know why Sirius had these?" asked Harry.
"Sirius Black kept them for you, Harry Potter." Kreacher replied.
"How did he get them? Everything else was lost."
"The night your parents were killed Sirius had rushed to gather you, after all you were all he had left of his best friends. Dumbledore had other plans for you. When he was denied guardianship he decided to gather what was left of your parents belongings." Explained Kreacher.
"If he gathered these for me why hadn't he given them to me? Why were they hidden in here?"
"He wanted to give them to you. He tried many times but it was never the right moment. He planned to give them to you the summer when you could live with him; however he died before he had the chance."
"Whose journal is this?" Harry lifted the black book.
"That, Harry Potter, is something you'll have to discover for yourself." And with that Kreacher vanished.