Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters, just the story. J.K. Rowling's. . . all of it.
Please review, my life is nothing without comments! Lol, sad I know.
Chapter One
It was a typical summer day: warm, blue sky. . . gleaming sun. . .trees of August green. . .large, red flowers. A boy, a man in more legal terms, glimpsed them, only to be reminded that they shared the color of his love's hair. He, like his father, fell for a girl with scarlet hair, and he hardly found it to be coincidence. Why? Why did he like her so much only to have to leave her on the eve of his journey? Why did he like her at all? She deified him as a young girl, what was so attractive about that? Nothing; she respected him, trusted his word more than his own age-old friends had. He appreciated it; she was there. And, best of all, she did not cry. . .he was not sure what he disliked so much about crying.
Harry Potter stood in front of his grand, yet not-so-grand inheritance: Number 12, Grimmauld Place. One of his few hopes, Sirius, managed to dwell here and survive as a teenager. . .he had to do the same. Just for a while, until he knew where to go.
R.A.B. . . . . .it was so obvious now: Regullus A. (possibly for Asshole, Harry thought) Black. Fool he was not to recognize on the first glance. Sirius' brother, the dutiful Death Eater. . .who else? Perhaps it was the dulling ache of Dumbledore's death by his most loathed teacher which prompted his blunt mind.
Harry retrieved the key to the gnarled front door from his pocket. This, he thought, should be done without magic. The musky smell immediately reached him, as the ashes of some unknown remnant covered the entire house. The shrieking of an old woman's portrait, Mrs. Black's no doubt, broke the dazed moment. Slytherin's locket is here, Harry ascertained, I know it is. And he knew precisely who to call.
"Kreacher!"
A burst of smoke.
"Vile master calls on poor Kreacher for his assistance?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Kreacher, tell me of all the vaults and secure hiding places Regullus had access to and used."
The surly house elf looked tormented, but told Harry everything he knew of the subject. Kreacher was an unwilling servant, but a servant nonetheless. One certain place mentioned caught Harry's ear. . .the Black's inheritance vault, a fitting place to keep such an artifact.
The vault was in the master bedroom, but was not visible on his first look. The room reeked of old glory: green velvet, silver chalices, gem-encrusted swords. . .it could have been Snape's quarters at Hogwarts, though Harry knew not what they looked like. Harry found a tapestry on the farthest wall from the door. It was black velvet with silver threading embroidered in the shape of a powerful snake. He smiled callously, drawing the tapestry to the side with his hand. The vault was in plain sight.
Harry said quietly, "Don't use all that much magic for a Pureblood family do they?"
Harry removed some minor enchantments from the vault and slowly opened its door. The vault was colossal, a room of its own ceiling high in enchanted trinkets, cursed objects of glory. Harry felt afraid and overwhelmed by the prospect of just digging in for a small piece of jewelry, especially since the majority of the vault's treasure appeared heavily cursed and made for mayhem.
"Accio locket!"
Thirteen lockets hovered before Harry's eyes, gleaming with sheen only light could provide. He inspected them carefully, making sure not to touch. The seventh one in the row held an embossed S. He recognized it immediately from the vision he shared with Dumbledore in the Pensieve. Harry grabbed it, and when he felt its light weight in his tired hands, he felt tremendous excitement.
He raised his wand, incanting a spell of destruction. The locket disintegrated, disappeared. A black smoke of glittering specks took its place upon the floor. Suddenly, the pain overwhelmed, Harry doubled up, screaming from the searing agony. The pain ebbed shortly, and he collapsed on the floor, exhausted, and finally understanding what was behind Dumbledore's black hand.
A/N: Get your review quills ready! Dear God. . .anyway please review. . continue? don't? start over? rot in hell? please tell me, no flames however. thanks.