It had been three weeks since the day that Harry Potter had ridden the
Hogwart's express to King's Cross and had met up with his Uncle Vernon,
Aunt Petunia, and Cousin Dudley Dursley. He was now writing letters to his
best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger who were in the same house as
him at the school Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They had sent
him letters, but they had to send it to him in the usual Muggle post-mail
because his Uncle Vernon was keeping a gun to scare off any owls that came
to close to there home of Number Four Private Drive. The Dursleys treated
Harry a little better than they ever had because of the warnings form Mr.
and Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, "Mad-Eye" Moody, and Tonks. Harry couldn't find
himself to complain about how they were treating him. They told the
neighbor's that he didn't go to that horrible school for misbehaved boys
anymore, and he could go to Mrs. Figg's whenever he wanted to and talk to
her about news in the Wizarding world. The news of Sirius Black's death and
innocence of not committing the crime of killing his school-mate Wormtail
had finally reached all of Harry's world. It had been on the cover of the
Daily Prophet some odd weeks ago, and everybody, of course, believed the
newspaper. Harry couldn't help think if they had just believed Dumbledore
in the first place, things might have been different. Sirius would not have
had to stay in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for so long, and Kreacher
wouldn't have found out about the connection between him and Harry, which
had been the downfall of Sirius, and the family of the Black's. But the
world of witches and wizards wasn't so easily convinced. They had barely
believed Harry when he said that dementors had been sent on him in Little
Whinging. Or that Voldemort had returned.
As he was writing all of the information store in his head to Hermione and Ron, besides the things that they absolutely needed to know, he decided that what he was writing wasn't extremely appropriate to tell them. He would have liked to tell Sirius, but he was . . . . .. . he couldn't say it, he didn't want to think about it. He still couldn't except what he was feeling right now, so, folding up his feelings and storing them inside his table-desk drawer, he made his way to his dresser for his pajamas. It's not like he had to make a great effort to do so, all he had to do was stand up, turn left, walk three steps, open his dresser drawer and pull them out. He took off his street clothes and pulled on his p.j.'s. He jumped backwards onto his bed and crawled under the dusty covers provided for him and turned off the light.
But he couldn't go to sleep, it was a dark and windy night, and the only thing that was on his mind at the moment were the voices behind that black veil; the one that had taken Sirius from him. Luna Lovegood had said anyway that she never had really lost her mother because of the voices of the voices behind that black curtain, but what did that mean? Luna was, anyway, the daughter of the editor for he Wizard Tabloid, The Quibbler, but she wouldn't make up something so silly about her dead mother, would she?
Harry lie awake in bed, wondering when the pain would stop, when he would finally realize that Sirius was . . ..gone. He couldn't bear the thought. He stood up and walked over to his window, looking at his snowy owl, Hedwig, sleep peacefully in her cage. He had just looked down at the sidewalk when he noticed that there was a girl walking toward his house, holding a small piece of paper, in a T-shirt, shorts, and high-tops. He walked downstairs and opened the door to a girl a little shorter than him with wavy black hair and stunningly black eyes. Harry could have sworn she looked just like Sirius but, ou of his pain, could have been imagining things.
"It's a little late to be out on a walk, don't you think?" Harry asked her
"Ya, but, I'm not sure if I have the right address, is this Number Four Private Drive?" she said.
"Yes."
"Oh, good. Um, are you Harry Potter?"
"Yes, and you are?"
"Melova Black-Hiquoree, to different last names. It's nice to meet you."
"Wait, you're last name is Black? That's impossible."
"How is that impossible, ,y father's last name was Black, or so I think it is. You see, I was just released form and orphanage called UnderWater's. Well, I wasn't really released, I actually found an opened door and walked out without any authority at all." She said this with a slight giggle." But, that's beside the point. I traced down my heritage and found that you were the only person who would really no where my father is. I got you phone number and address," she handed the little piece of paper that she was holding to him, " and then I found out that my father is you're godfather, so, you could say we're long-lost brother and sister or something."
When she had finished, Harry felt like he was going to collapse. He steeped out of the doorway and offered for her to come in. She took the offer graciously and stepped inside out of the cold. As they made there way up to Harry's room, he made sure that he hadn't woken up his aunt or uncle, or even worse, Dudley, who would let the whole neighborhood know that Harry had had a girl over in the middle of the night. As soon as he knew that the coast was clear, he walked to his room, expecting Melova to be right behind him, found her sitting at his desk, petting Hedwig through her cage.
"Your owl's beautiful."
"How did you? Oh, never mind," he said as he shut the door behind him looking at Melova who was now straddling his chair with her arms folded across the back, looking up at Harry.
"God, she looks just like Sirius," Harry thought as he sat down on his bed. "So, you were saying . . ," he said aloud.
"Oh, yes, you see my father is Sirius Black. My mother is the late Mary- Anne Jolivia Hiquoree. She died over 8 years ago, when I was 3. I came here because to my references, you are my father's godson. I was hoping maybe that, if he hadn't left you, too, you could help me find him. Or, at least tell me where he was, so I could see if I could hopefully get to him," she said sincerely.
"I'm afraid I can't help you."
"Why not? Did he leave you, too?"
"You could say that," Harry said looking down at his feet, trying not to cry. He didn't want to tell her about what had happened to Sirius, so he stood up and walked to his dresser, pulled out the article of The Daily Prophet explaining Sirius' death. He handed it to Melova who looked down at it and then looked up at harry with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes.
"Oh, I see what you mean, "she said, sniffing and wiping her eyes. "Were you two really close?"
"Ya, he was like the father that I never had," he said, amazed with himself that he was able to talk about Sirius in the open with a complete stranger. Well, she was, anyway, his daughter.
"Oh, well, I'm sorry for wasting your time. I guess I might as well leave, as seeing how me being an orphan has just been confirmed," she said getting up and walking towards the door. Her hand was on the door-knob when Harry said, "If you want to stay here, I bet my aunt and uncle wouldn't mind. Either that or I could ask Mrs. Figg if she could take care of you until school starts."
"That's sweet of you, " she said, smiling, "but I'm not enrolled in any school."
"You are if you're Sirius' daughter. You're eleven right?" he said standing up, she seemed a little tall to be eleven.
"Yes, why?"
"Well, then you will start Hogwarts next semester."
"Hogwarts? What's Hogwarts?" Melova asked, she was getting confused. This boy was talking nonsense.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you about it?"
"Tell me what? You guys aren't part of some Mafia, are you?"
"No," Harry said, amazed that she didn't even know what Hogwarts was. Then it hit him, she didn't know what Hogwarts was because her mother had been a Muggle, and it was the only thing that was possible. "You're mum wasn't a witch was she?"
"Of course not! How could you say that about my MOTHER!"
" No, I didn't mean it in a bad way, I mean, she was unmagical. You see, Sirius was a wizard. If he were your father, you would have gotten the magical gene from him, and you would be a witch. Half-blood of course, but a witch all the same."
"What do you mean, I would be a witch?"
"Has anything ever happened to you that you couldn't explain, Melova?" Harry asked, remembering that that was exactly what Hagrid had asked him in his first year at Hogwarts.
"Well, Mitch Gritt threw a punch at me once, and it backfired and hit him in the face," she said.
"Well, see, you can't explain that, can you?"
"Well, Gritt never did have very good aim, but I don't think was even stupid to hit himself in the face," she said, smiling and giggling a little bit.
"I know that you just found out that you are an orphan, but you've only been one for about a month, I've been one my whole life," he said, still amazed that he could say this in front of her, "so, I think you would fit into Hogwarts very well. I might need to contact Dumbledore and tell him that Sirius wasn't the last Black after all. I might need to tell Phineas to add another person to your family tree," then after he said this, he realized that he was rambling on and on, "but you probably want me to explain everything first, huh?"
"If that's not a problem, then yes, please," she said, wondering who all these people were that he was talking about.
"Well, you see, Dumbledore is the headmaster of Hogwarts." He said, realizing he should probably explain what Hogwarts was, also, "and Hogwarts is one of the two schools that I know of that teach the arts of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They teach you how to fly on a broomstick," he said pulling his Firebolt out of his closet, "and how to cast spells and stuff," he said, pulling his wand out of his back pocket.
"Do you get to learn how to make like, potions and stuff?" she asked, which amazed Harry.
"Ya, ya, Professor Snape teaches that, and Professor McGonagall teaches Transfiguration. There are a whole bunch of teachers there, you know," Harry said, putting everything that he had taken out away and now wondering where she was going to sleep, "um, are you tired?"
"Ya, I walked here all the way from London!" she said.
"You're kidding!"
"Nope, I had to, it was the only way I could, if I took the train, then the police would probably be wondering where an eleven year-old orphan had come from, no money to take the bus, and I don't know how to fly yet," she said pointing to the closet where Harry had just put away his Firebolt.
He smiled, she was more like Sirius than he had thought. "Well, you can sleep on my bed if you want to, I'll sleep on the floor."
"Oh, no, you sleep on the bed, I don't want to be a bother," she said finding a spot on the floor near the wall and sitting down against the wall, pulling her legs to her chest. She whispered good-night and Harry turned off the light and whispered good-night back. When he noticed that she had no blanket, he took out one of his school robes and laid it over her. She stirred a little but she eventually calmed down and went back to her slow, deep breaths while she slept. Harry curled into bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. He remembered that a few hours ago that, he had been lying there wondering what he was going to do about his pain over the loss of his godfather. Now, he was lying in the same room with his daughter who had no clue what-so-ever about what was going on in the world around her. When he finally fell asleep, he looked over at Melova and saw her turn in her sleep . . ..........
As he was writing all of the information store in his head to Hermione and Ron, besides the things that they absolutely needed to know, he decided that what he was writing wasn't extremely appropriate to tell them. He would have liked to tell Sirius, but he was . . . . .. . he couldn't say it, he didn't want to think about it. He still couldn't except what he was feeling right now, so, folding up his feelings and storing them inside his table-desk drawer, he made his way to his dresser for his pajamas. It's not like he had to make a great effort to do so, all he had to do was stand up, turn left, walk three steps, open his dresser drawer and pull them out. He took off his street clothes and pulled on his p.j.'s. He jumped backwards onto his bed and crawled under the dusty covers provided for him and turned off the light.
But he couldn't go to sleep, it was a dark and windy night, and the only thing that was on his mind at the moment were the voices behind that black veil; the one that had taken Sirius from him. Luna Lovegood had said anyway that she never had really lost her mother because of the voices of the voices behind that black curtain, but what did that mean? Luna was, anyway, the daughter of the editor for he Wizard Tabloid, The Quibbler, but she wouldn't make up something so silly about her dead mother, would she?
Harry lie awake in bed, wondering when the pain would stop, when he would finally realize that Sirius was . . ..gone. He couldn't bear the thought. He stood up and walked over to his window, looking at his snowy owl, Hedwig, sleep peacefully in her cage. He had just looked down at the sidewalk when he noticed that there was a girl walking toward his house, holding a small piece of paper, in a T-shirt, shorts, and high-tops. He walked downstairs and opened the door to a girl a little shorter than him with wavy black hair and stunningly black eyes. Harry could have sworn she looked just like Sirius but, ou of his pain, could have been imagining things.
"It's a little late to be out on a walk, don't you think?" Harry asked her
"Ya, but, I'm not sure if I have the right address, is this Number Four Private Drive?" she said.
"Yes."
"Oh, good. Um, are you Harry Potter?"
"Yes, and you are?"
"Melova Black-Hiquoree, to different last names. It's nice to meet you."
"Wait, you're last name is Black? That's impossible."
"How is that impossible, ,y father's last name was Black, or so I think it is. You see, I was just released form and orphanage called UnderWater's. Well, I wasn't really released, I actually found an opened door and walked out without any authority at all." She said this with a slight giggle." But, that's beside the point. I traced down my heritage and found that you were the only person who would really no where my father is. I got you phone number and address," she handed the little piece of paper that she was holding to him, " and then I found out that my father is you're godfather, so, you could say we're long-lost brother and sister or something."
When she had finished, Harry felt like he was going to collapse. He steeped out of the doorway and offered for her to come in. She took the offer graciously and stepped inside out of the cold. As they made there way up to Harry's room, he made sure that he hadn't woken up his aunt or uncle, or even worse, Dudley, who would let the whole neighborhood know that Harry had had a girl over in the middle of the night. As soon as he knew that the coast was clear, he walked to his room, expecting Melova to be right behind him, found her sitting at his desk, petting Hedwig through her cage.
"Your owl's beautiful."
"How did you? Oh, never mind," he said as he shut the door behind him looking at Melova who was now straddling his chair with her arms folded across the back, looking up at Harry.
"God, she looks just like Sirius," Harry thought as he sat down on his bed. "So, you were saying . . ," he said aloud.
"Oh, yes, you see my father is Sirius Black. My mother is the late Mary- Anne Jolivia Hiquoree. She died over 8 years ago, when I was 3. I came here because to my references, you are my father's godson. I was hoping maybe that, if he hadn't left you, too, you could help me find him. Or, at least tell me where he was, so I could see if I could hopefully get to him," she said sincerely.
"I'm afraid I can't help you."
"Why not? Did he leave you, too?"
"You could say that," Harry said looking down at his feet, trying not to cry. He didn't want to tell her about what had happened to Sirius, so he stood up and walked to his dresser, pulled out the article of The Daily Prophet explaining Sirius' death. He handed it to Melova who looked down at it and then looked up at harry with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes.
"Oh, I see what you mean, "she said, sniffing and wiping her eyes. "Were you two really close?"
"Ya, he was like the father that I never had," he said, amazed with himself that he was able to talk about Sirius in the open with a complete stranger. Well, she was, anyway, his daughter.
"Oh, well, I'm sorry for wasting your time. I guess I might as well leave, as seeing how me being an orphan has just been confirmed," she said getting up and walking towards the door. Her hand was on the door-knob when Harry said, "If you want to stay here, I bet my aunt and uncle wouldn't mind. Either that or I could ask Mrs. Figg if she could take care of you until school starts."
"That's sweet of you, " she said, smiling, "but I'm not enrolled in any school."
"You are if you're Sirius' daughter. You're eleven right?" he said standing up, she seemed a little tall to be eleven.
"Yes, why?"
"Well, then you will start Hogwarts next semester."
"Hogwarts? What's Hogwarts?" Melova asked, she was getting confused. This boy was talking nonsense.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you about it?"
"Tell me what? You guys aren't part of some Mafia, are you?"
"No," Harry said, amazed that she didn't even know what Hogwarts was. Then it hit him, she didn't know what Hogwarts was because her mother had been a Muggle, and it was the only thing that was possible. "You're mum wasn't a witch was she?"
"Of course not! How could you say that about my MOTHER!"
" No, I didn't mean it in a bad way, I mean, she was unmagical. You see, Sirius was a wizard. If he were your father, you would have gotten the magical gene from him, and you would be a witch. Half-blood of course, but a witch all the same."
"What do you mean, I would be a witch?"
"Has anything ever happened to you that you couldn't explain, Melova?" Harry asked, remembering that that was exactly what Hagrid had asked him in his first year at Hogwarts.
"Well, Mitch Gritt threw a punch at me once, and it backfired and hit him in the face," she said.
"Well, see, you can't explain that, can you?"
"Well, Gritt never did have very good aim, but I don't think was even stupid to hit himself in the face," she said, smiling and giggling a little bit.
"I know that you just found out that you are an orphan, but you've only been one for about a month, I've been one my whole life," he said, still amazed that he could say this in front of her, "so, I think you would fit into Hogwarts very well. I might need to contact Dumbledore and tell him that Sirius wasn't the last Black after all. I might need to tell Phineas to add another person to your family tree," then after he said this, he realized that he was rambling on and on, "but you probably want me to explain everything first, huh?"
"If that's not a problem, then yes, please," she said, wondering who all these people were that he was talking about.
"Well, you see, Dumbledore is the headmaster of Hogwarts." He said, realizing he should probably explain what Hogwarts was, also, "and Hogwarts is one of the two schools that I know of that teach the arts of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They teach you how to fly on a broomstick," he said pulling his Firebolt out of his closet, "and how to cast spells and stuff," he said, pulling his wand out of his back pocket.
"Do you get to learn how to make like, potions and stuff?" she asked, which amazed Harry.
"Ya, ya, Professor Snape teaches that, and Professor McGonagall teaches Transfiguration. There are a whole bunch of teachers there, you know," Harry said, putting everything that he had taken out away and now wondering where she was going to sleep, "um, are you tired?"
"Ya, I walked here all the way from London!" she said.
"You're kidding!"
"Nope, I had to, it was the only way I could, if I took the train, then the police would probably be wondering where an eleven year-old orphan had come from, no money to take the bus, and I don't know how to fly yet," she said pointing to the closet where Harry had just put away his Firebolt.
He smiled, she was more like Sirius than he had thought. "Well, you can sleep on my bed if you want to, I'll sleep on the floor."
"Oh, no, you sleep on the bed, I don't want to be a bother," she said finding a spot on the floor near the wall and sitting down against the wall, pulling her legs to her chest. She whispered good-night and Harry turned off the light and whispered good-night back. When he noticed that she had no blanket, he took out one of his school robes and laid it over her. She stirred a little but she eventually calmed down and went back to her slow, deep breaths while she slept. Harry curled into bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. He remembered that a few hours ago that, he had been lying there wondering what he was going to do about his pain over the loss of his godfather. Now, he was lying in the same room with his daughter who had no clue what-so-ever about what was going on in the world around her. When he finally fell asleep, he looked over at Melova and saw her turn in her sleep . . ..........