Warnings: AU after GoF.
Pairing: Harry/Sally-Anne
It has many parts and any romance involved won't come along until much later in the story.
Rated: M for violence, language, adult content
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. All rights belong to proper owners and no profit is made from this writing.
Summary: With the Ministry of Magic against him and Voldemort seeking his death, Harry Potter knew his only hope was to leave everything he had come to love and seek sanctuary in another land.
What he found went beyond anything he could have imagined.
What he found would help him win a war.
2
Noir Interlude
1
Familiarity Breeds Contempt
The three left from an alley across from a park with a loud crack that sounded like a car backfiring only to appear seconds later on a street across from a row of houses that had begun to show the wear of years of neglect. The neighborhood was quiet despite its haggard appearance with the moon in the night sky helping street lamps illuminate the block. He had only remained at Number 4 long enough to pack up his trunk, free Hedwig and tell her to follow him and inform his Aunt that he would be leaving for the remainder of the summer. Both of them had been elated. The first time they ever shared something in common.
"I need you to remember the words from the piece of paper, Harry," Remus reminded him.
The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
And just like that what was once hidden became visible to his eyes.
"Not too late to change your mind," he offered, knowing that Dumbledore would not be happy with their decision to remove him from the Dursleys. It might make his Aunt angry but it was nothing he hadn't experienced before.
Not only that but he was sure Dumbledore wouldn't be happy that Remus had convinced Sirius to make a copy of the secret so that he would be able to get pass the Fidelius. While the Headmaster had cast the charm to hide the headquarters, Sirius had insisted on being the secret keeper this time. Grimmauld Place was after all a Black residence that Sirius was generous enough to allow the Order to use. Dumbledore hadn't been pleased about it but Remus told him that Sirius had been insistent.
Given what happened the last time secret keepers were involved, Harry didn't blame his godfather not one whit.
"It will be fine," Emmy assured him with a hand to his shoulder.
He had barely made it through the front door when he was almost run over by a woman barreling down the stairs. She was just taller than him with bright pink hair and dressed in a fitted black t-shirt, under a cropped denim jacket and ripped black leggings over a pink plaid skirt. Trying to avoid a collision, she skipped to the side and instead tripped over what he thought resembled a Troll's leg, and sent it crashing loudly to the floor. The resulting commotion brought forth the shrieking vitriol of one of the paintings on the wall.
The image looked less like a woman and resembled a hag with her eyes bulging and face screwed into such a nasty snarl. Worse were the foul words that spewed from her mouth.
"Mudbloods! Blood Traitors! Defiling the noble house of Black! Disgusting half breeds should be destroyed!"
Strangely curious, like witnessing a car wreck and being unable to break your gaze away, he walked to the painting, his head tilted to the side as he watched her scream. It reminded him of Vernon Dursley's reaction when he left tonight and a blistering rage came over him so quickly he could barely suppress a physical reaction. He'd had quite enough of hearing insulting comments about himself from that man. He wasn't going to take it from some bits of color and paper.
As if feeling his eyes upon her, she turned that virulent temper on him. And despite how awful the woman looked, he could tell she was a Black from the aristocratic features and the piercing grey eyes that mirrored his godfathers.
"I bet you're one of those filthy half-bloods as well! You should have been drowned at birth! And what are you staring at!"
"At you actually," he answered and decided to throw what she considered to be the worst insult back at her. "You sound like my Uncle. He's a bigot as well. Except he's a muggle."
Her gasp was echoed by others in the hall but he ignored them for the moment. "How dare you compare me to that animal! Do you know who I am, boy?"
"Not really," he lifted a shoulder in disregard. "Don't really care either, you're just a painting."
"YOU-"
Before she could begin disparaging his birth and blood and character and whatever else, he said, "You know muggles have this wonderful invention, perhaps they have a magical version that you've heard of. It's called turpentine. It's used to remove paint stains. I don't know how it would work on a magical painting but it might be interesting to find out."
He leaned in closer to whisper, eyes narrowed and a look of loathing normally reserved for his relatives. He was pleased when her eyes widened and she flinched away. "I'd be careful who you call a filthy mudblood, it's rather easy to purchase." The fact that he could acquire some turpentine and remove her, considerable paint stain she was, was left unsaid but her understanding of the implied threat shown in the way her mouth firmed.
"You wouldn't dare!" she snarled and if she had been real he was sure he would have been covered with the spittle that flew from her mouth.
"Maybe. Maybe not." He drew in a deep breath as if to say he really didn't care either way but the cold wrath in his eyes was unmistakable. "Do you truly want to find out what I'd dare?"
Furious at being outmaneuvered for the moment, she fell silent and turned her back to him still managing to sneer down her nose at him over her shoulder.
"I'll leave you with your thoughts then, Madam." When he turned around the hall was full of people now, each staring in shock. "What's wrong?"
"You managed to shut her up," the pink haired woman told him.
"No one ever manages to make her stop shrieking once she gets started," A dark skinned wizard explained seeing his confusion. "Usually, we're forced to close the curtains to her painting to muffle the noise. How did you do it?"
He didn't want to admit to basically threatening a picture with being erased so he just let the silence drag on. Thankfully Fred broke in, "Never mind that, what's with the hair!"
And of course where there was Fred, George was never far behind. "And what happened to your glasses!"
"Look at ickle Harrykins."
"All grown up."
"Hey guys," he grinned at the Weasley twins, used to their antics but always happy to see them.
That's when it really hit him. For the first time in the years since he had started Hogwarts he would be going off to school without his friends. It left him feeling lost. Whatever he might have said next was smothered beneath the crushing hug of his best friend.
"Hermione!" He managed around a mouthful of her wild hair. "It's good to see you too!"
She was followed by Ron who looked like he had sprouted up several inches over the last weeks. Ron clapped him on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. "Give up there Hermione. A bloke needs to breathe." They didn't bother to hold back their laughter as she jerked back, appalled. "There we are, nice to see you mate."
"You too, Ron."
Hermione grabbed his arms, a look of concern on her face as she started to ramble. "I know you're probably angry with us Harry for not writing you but you have to understand that Dumbledore insisted. He was worried that any owls might be intercepted."
"It doesn't matter," he tried to reassure her.
Point of fact, he was furious. He had been through a traumatic experience and dumped off at his relatives with no one thinking that perhaps he needed to talk about it. It never occurred to him that his friends would basically abandon him but he wasn't surprised that it was on Dumbledore's orders. The argument he could have had just wasn't important at the moment. He had precious little time to spend with his friends before he was shipped off to another school. The last thing he wanted to do was spend it angry.
Before Hermione could voice the protest that he knew was coming, he heard the voice of his godfather and it had him turning with a shout of joy. "Sirius!"
They crossed the room to each other, sharing a grin of delight before he was pulled into one the best hugs he'd ever had. He had no experience but thought this might be what it felt like to be held by a father and if he lingered too long, could anyone truly blame him.
Sirius pulled away, giving him a thorough once over. A shiver of apprehension crept into his stomach as he remembered exactly where he had been this afternoon and the changes that were made to his appearance. What would Sirius think of them? Would he be disappointed that he looked less like his father than before?
"It's not so very different." A large hand reached up to thread through the dark red locks. A flicker of what he thought might be sadness flickered through Sirius' eyes before it was replaced with a very Marauder like smirk. "It's like a mixture of James and Lily." The same hand mussed his hair before sliding down to cup the side of his face. A quick wink told Harry all he needed to know. "You look good kiddo."
"Thanks." He relaxed because it was important to him what his godfather thought.
"You know mostly everyone here but I don't believe you've been introduced to these two," Sirius pointed to the woman with exotic hair and the dark skinned wizard from before. "Pinky over there is my cousin, Nymphadora Tonks."
"Hey! I told you not to call me by that name!" Pink hair flared a violent red matching the woman's ire. She even seemed to grow a few inches so that she could glare at Sirius eye to eye. "It's just Tonks!"
Sirius just chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows which told him this was a common argument between the two. "She's a metamorphmagus, that's how she's able to alter her hair colour."
"Wotcher Harry!" she greeted with a bright smile, an abrupt change from her anger before. "I'm what muggles might call a shapeshifter." She proved it by shifting her nose and the lower part of her face into a duck bill and back again.
"Wicked," he grinned. "Bet you manage to get into tons of trouble with an ability like that."
"Of course not, I'm a law abiding witch I'll have you know." She didn't even bother to hold back a snort of laughter from those words. Given her presence here at Sirius' house, that proved she was perfectly willing to bend the law when necessary.
"That's Kingsley Shacklebolt," Sirius pointed to the man.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter," came the greeting in a rich baritone voice.
"None of that standing on ceremony here, Kingsley," Sirius interrupted. To him, Sirius said, "Kingsley is still getting used our company of miscreants but give us time. He and Tonks are Aurors with the ministry. In fact, he is the Auror in charge of apprehending the infamous Sirius Black."
"I believe Sirius is starting to believe his own press again," Emmy murmured but it was definitely loud enough for them all to hear.
"I'm not surprised," Remus answered causing them all to laugh.
"Oye! It's not that funny," Sirius insisted which made them laugh that much louder.
"It's nice to meet you both," Harry waved a return greeting then added, "And thank you for not arresting my godfather."
"We're both very grateful. Now, seeing as it's almost eleven, why don't you head upstairs with your friends and get settled in." Sirius saw the protest he was about to make and gave the shoulder beneath his fingers a slight squeeze of understanding. "Ron and the others can show you to your room. You should probably get some rest, I'm sure it's been a long day. We can talk in the morning."
2
I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends
When Harry woke the next morning, he was disoriented. The bed he lay in was comfortable, the room had a mild scent of disuse which was very different from his tiny room back on Privet Drive which always seemed to smell like sweaty teen boy no matter how much he cleaned it. It only took a few seconds for him to remember he was in Sirius' family house at Grimmauld.
This was his brother Regulus' old bedroom.
Sirius had cleaned it in hopes that he would spend the rest of the summer here before heading off to Hogwarts. This was before Dumbledore decided Harry would essentially go into hiding for the next year to get away from the Ministry.
The room was great, really, most of Regulus' furniture remained, the dark wood desk, a matching bookcase armoire, chests and a four poster bed. The walls still had their faded wall paper, a blue and cream print to match the bed linen and drapes. Scenic landscape paintings on the walls, which he definitely hadn't expected from a family that was supposed to be as dark as the Blacks were. Then he felt foolish. This was the room of a young man, just because the Black family was prejudiced didn't mean Regulus couldn't enjoy beautiful paintings. He had probably been raised to appreciate such things.
In all, it was a good room.
Ron was upset they weren't sharing, had even shown Harry his cluttered room with its orange dressings and Chudley Cannon posters on the walls to try to convince Harry to change his mind. Mrs. Weasley also kicked up a fuss, claiming as they were best friends of course Ron and Harry would want to share for the short time they would have together this summer. They had done so at the Burrow and enjoyed themselves. Why should things change because they were here?
Sirius was adamant that he would have his own space and refused to cave into the demands of the angry witch. This had drawn out an argument that could have turned ugly had Mr. Weasley not intervened and reminded them that Harry would be leaving soon and shouldn't have to listen to the people he cared about fighting.
Harry didn't mind about the room, and of course this hadn't helped to soothe Ron's hurt feelings. He liked being roommates with Ron and the others at Hogwarts. He even enjoyed sharing at the Burrow. This was different. This was Sirius, his godfather, showing Harry that he had a place in his home and that his room would always be here waiting for him. Ron had that all his life and just couldn't understand why the acceptance was so important to him.
The soft knock at the door told him that he wasn't the only one awake, despite the fact that it was just shortly after six. When he sat up the bedding pooled down to his waist. The room was the perfect temperature, so the dark green t-shirt and matching flannel pajama bottoms he wore were comfortable.
"Yes?"
"Can I come in Harry?"
"Sure."
Hermione peaked in around the door and he grinned, "I'm decent, you can come in."
That brought a sheepish smile to her face. "Good morning. Did I wake you?"
"No, I was just getting up when you knocked. Good morning. Did Mrs. Weasley send you up?"
"No, not yet. Though I did hear her in the kitchen when I went down for the book I forgot last night."
It was always Hermione's habit to read first thing in the morning when they didn't have classes. That didn't change during the summer evidently.
She looked different this morning with her bushy hair pulled to the top of her head in a ponytail and her pink pajamas. He wasn't used to seeing her in such a girlish color. It suggested Hermione during summer break might be a different girl altogether.
"I still can't get over how different you look with your hair so long."
"Is that bad or good?"
"Not sure yet, really. At least it's not as unruly as it was before."
His hair was something of a legend all on its own, especially with how messy it could get. Sometimes it was downright gravity defying. "Emmy and Remus assure me that it helps me to look less like Harry Potter but its subtle enough that it doesn't draw unnecessary attention. With the vision correcting potion, and no noticeable scar, it's even more effective."
"I can barely imagine you without your glasses."
"That's the whole point, though, isn't it?" She looked uncomfortable, so he changed the subject. "So what are you reading?"
"Oh." She raised the book in her hand. "I found a marvelous book on Arithmancy and its relationship to the creation of charms in the Black library."
Okay, maybe she wasn't that different.
He didn't even try to cover his chuckle of laughter. "What can I do for you Hermione? I don't think you came to see me about Arithmancy?" he asked before she could get further into her discussion about a theory that completely escaped him.
"Yes, well, I just wanted to talk. I know you said you weren't but I think you were still angry with us for not writing and I wanted to see if you wanted to talk about it."
He should have known she would do this. Guess he could be grateful that she chose to do so when Ron wasn't around. That had the potential to end horribly. Rather than try avoidance, he decided he would just tell the truth and accept the consequences of such.
"It's difficult to accept that all of you were here together with my godfather and I've been stuck on Privet Drive. That isn't so bad, I guess, I'm used to the isolation. Dumbledore said not to owl but it doesn't mean I like it. I mean, how difficult would it have been to have someone slip a letter in the mailbox. I didn't need to hear any secrets but I definitely deserved something more than those first letters demanding that I stay out of trouble or don't do anything foolish like I'm a six year old child who doesn't know any better!"
"That wasn't my intention, to make you feel that way. It's just sometimes you don't take the time to think things through."
"Yes, of course, Hermione and since you're the brains of our Trio it's up to you to remind me. Do you realize how insulting that sounds?"
She looked hurt but not necessarily remorseful of the way she felt. From her perspective he might be all of those things. In his defense he usually didn't seek out trouble but he never ran from it either. He had a healthy curiosity from being denied that truth for most of his life and a lacked respect for authority that had been nurtured by the Dursleys. It wasn't a good combination but this still didn't mean he needed Hermione to admonish him like he was her child.
"It doesn't matter," he decided, releasing a huff of breath.
"But it does!" she insisted. "We won't be at Hogwarts this year together. We have to make things better before you leave."
He was trying to set aside his hurt feelings, mostly because anger wasn't going to change anything that happened and he hated the unsettled feeling being directed toward his friends. This wasn't going to work if Hermione was determined to dissect every emotion he had to try to make it better when in truth it was mostly to make her feel better.
"Hermione, look, I know you mean well but the best thing to do is just let all of this be in the past. We don't have much time before I have to leave and I think there is a better way to spend that time than rehashing things that can't be changed."
"So you just want to ignore it, like you and Ron did last year during the Tri-Wizard Tournament? Don't you see that isn't the way to resolve things?"
"I see you're determined to do this regardless of how I feel about it. I was the one that was supposedly hurt. Shouldn't I be the one to decide if I want to discuss my feelings?"
"You never discuss your feelings!"
"And it's certainly my prerogative if I choose to keep them to myself!" Discussing things that won't ever change tended to make him angry. And what was he, some bloody girl? But he could hardly say that to her. He wasn't thick.
"If you never tell us how you feel then how can we help you? How can we fix it?"
"There's nothing to fix. I don't need you to fix me!" Before he lost his temper he asked, "Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"
"I, I-" she stammered, before lowering her eyes to the floor. "I don't know. I just feel like if you leave angry, something bad will happen."
"I'm going to a school where no one will know who I am in the hopes that nothing bad will happen. We just need to get through this next year until Voldemort shows himself and the Ministry is forced to admit he's back. They can't stay in denial forever because sooner or later Voldemort isn't going to settle for attacking muggle-borns in secret. When that happens we'll all go back to Hogwarts, and that will be the end of all of this."
"Maybe you're right," she finally relented for which he was grateful. He had no idea how he would get her to leave him alone otherwise. "And even though I know you're still angry, I won't push anymore."
"Thank you. Now, how about we get dressed and head down for breakfast. We can catch up on what's been going on."
"Should we wake Ron?'
"Let him sleep for a while longer. It will just be the two of us alright?"
That brought a genuine smile to her face and lit up her eyes. "Alright."
As Hermione hurried back to her room, he went to shower and change in the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. Remus and Emmy had binned most of his old clothing from the Dursleys barring a few pairs of denims that actually fit and old t-shirts, so he selected things from his new wardrobe.
A fitted dark blue shirt was paired with black trousers that rode low on his waist and were molded to his legs. Leather loafers were slipped into as he stepped before a mirror.
"Thank you Emmy." He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.
Then he snorted as he contemplated the amount of galleons they spent yesterday in clothing. Remus had assured him that Sirius wouldn't mind the expense and the fact of the matter was that he truly needed the things they had purchased. Ron would give him a hard time if he knew, so the extent of his new wardrobe was definitely a fact he would keep to himself.
He strapped on a watch he had found, it was one of few extravagances that he had allowed himself to be convinced into purchasing. He had loved the watch from the first time he had seen it, especially all of the brilliant magical enhancements.
It was great to have nice things for once and not the leftovers his Aunt had fobbed off on him from his obese cousin. Sure, he didn't care about money, it was difficult to care about something he hadn't known he had. Then he had discovered his vault and thought more of the future and how when he finally escaped the Dursleys he would have a nest egg to tide him over after school.
It was normal to be pleased to have new things so that he didn't look like an orphan misfit and to have someone who cared enough about him to buy those things. Looking like a ragamuffin might not have bothered him when he was eleven but he was getting older and more aware that appearance did play a part in how people perceived a person.
"Harry dear, don't you look nice," Mrs. Weasley greeted him as he entered the kitchen. She gave him a brisk hug, nothing like her usual smothering ones. As if she was hesitant for some reason.
"Harry?"
Hermione came in just afterwards, stopped and blinked as if she hadn't seen him in twenty years and not the past twenty minutes. "You look," and that seemed to be where everyone was stopping.
"Bad?" He asked because two of the same reactions were bizarre.
"No! Not at all. It's just, I've never, we're not used to seeing. You look nice, it's a bit dressy for around here, but you look nice."
This was actually casual. In fact, Sirius had been dressed similarly the night before.
"Well no dawdling, come in, come in," Molly broke in, waving them to the table. "Let's get you both something to eat."
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."
She gave him a gentle smile that was much better than the earlier hesitance. "It's no problem dear."
"Can I help you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione offered.
"You both can help set the table. I'm sure the others will be down soon enough."
It didn't take long for them to search out the tableware and even less to arrange the plates, silverware, glasses and cups for the others who would join them. Mrs. Weasley worked quickly and efficiently to get the meal together, a habit from feeding a large family no doubt. Sure enough, just as she began setting large platters of food on the table the others began trailing in.
Harry took a little of everything, deciding he would see how he felt before getting another helping. The rashers of bacon were nice and crisp, just as he liked. She had added tomatoes and mushrooms to the eggs to stretch the offering more. He passed on the remaining full breakfast bar a sausage or two, a few potatoes and toast.
Mostly he was watching the show of the remaining Weasleys eat. They certainly weren't hesitant about filling their plates. Of course he was used to seeing Ron eat but it was something to realize that most of the family had the same healthy appetite. Even Ginny wasn't shy about eating.
Sirius and Remus had joined them, but Tonks and Emmy had both returned to their own apartments last night.
"How do you really feel about Professor Dumbledore's decision not to allow you to return to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, sipping at her cup of tea at the end of the meal.
Mr. Weasley had eventually left for the Ministry and the twins slipped away to wherever they went to plot mischief. Mrs. Weasley was cleaning the kitchen from breakfast, leaving just the few of them remaining at the table.
"I know yesterday you said you were fine but is that how you truly feel?"
"Dumbledore believes this year is going to be bad. The Ministry's stance is to turn a blind eye and keep the rest of the Wizarding world ignorant. I thought second year was bad when everyone believed I was the Heir of Slytherin or even last year when they thought I entered the Tournament on purpose. With the Ministry and the papers calling me all kinds of names, I can't even imagine how horrible Hogwarts would be this year."
"I feel guilty about leaving our friends there alone to face things." Ginny muttered.
"There isn't much we can do right now. I think they're probably safer there without us. It would draw less attention to them."
"Maybe we can owl some of the other Gryffindors before we leave to let them know to be careful of the Ministry teacher." Ron suggested.
"That will only work if they don't believe the lies that the prophet is printing. Given past reactions, we can't really guess who to trust with what."
"Neville and Dean," Hermione said. "I think they would believe us."
"I notice you said nothing about Pavarti and Lavender."
"Those two gossips? They may believe you but the stories in the Prophet will be too much of a temptation to resist."
"I just don't understand why people would rather believe Harry and Professor Dumbledore are lying than admit that You-Know-Who has returned. It just doesn't make sense," Ron garbled around a mouth of food.
"I think that's a familiar problem in the Wizarding world. The decided lack of common sense. Why else would they believe Muggles wear women's under garments out in public." Hermione pointed out. They both shared a laugh at that.
"It's easier for them to believe Harry is a liar because they're afraid." Sirius said, drawing the attention of the table.
"That's what Dumbledore said. I just don't think lying to yourself is any better. I would rather be afraid and know the truth and try to prepare than pretend that everything is fine. Even if Fudge has doubts, shouldn't he have ordered some investigations into the possibility?"
"Unfortunately, Minister Fudge has even less common sense than most." Remus answered. "He is accountable to the public opinion and facing a war against the same Dark Lord that caused such destruction as before isn't what he wants to tell the public."
"So it's not a bad thing we won't be at Hogwarts, I guess. I don't like it but after everything I've been through, I don't want to go through being vilified again or worse. If being away from the people who matter most to me is the price to pay, I'll just have to live with it."
3
Can't See the Wood for the Trees
After breakfast, Sirius pulled him from the kitchen before his friends could protest. Not that he was too upset, he wanted to spend some private time with his godfather. Due to circumstances, they didn't have the opportunity to bond like they should have. So when they were alone, Sirius felt obligated to tell Harry everything he could about the years the Marauders were at Hogwarts, as if making up for the lack of memories Harry of his father.
Harry had a feeling Sirius preferred to relive those memories than confront the facts that he had spent over a decade in prison, one of his best friends was dead, one had believed him to be a traitor and the other actually was the traitor who caused the destruction of the seemingly unbreakable bond they shared.
They settled into the lounge situated near the library. It was definitely designed with the wizards in the household in mind with its heavy masculine furnishings in greens and grey, dark wood trimming and the large fireplace as the room's focal point. Sirius proceeded to plop down into a leather wing armchair looking thoroughly depressed. If he had spent all of his days trapped in this foreboding house, he would probably look the same.
"I hate this house, did I tell you that?" Sirius looked for confirmation but didn't give him time to speak. "Grew up here, ran away as soon as I could. Of course, my mother disowned me just after. Burned my face right off the family tapestry."
That explained a lot. Sirius told him how his family hated that he was sorted into Gryffindor and it didn't take a genius to figure out that the Black family had a legacy of pure blood supremacists if the painting in the hall was any indication. Harry let his godfather continue on speaking, another story about the Marauders' Hogwarts years and some prank Sirius and his father had pulled, as Harry ran his gaze over the room. It wasn't so bad. There was about an inch of dust but otherwise the furniture had endured, probably with the help of magic.
Mrs. Weasley had the others cleaning the house by hand; he wondered how that was working out, especially when the house still had a dank, filthy feeling. He wasn't going to spend the time in the dark, however, so he went to the heavy drapes at the windows. "No one can see in, right?" He asked Sirius at a break in the man's story.
"Fidelius, remember?"
And he yanked the drapes back to allow the morning sun into the room. Hacking followed as he scrambled away and barely managed to avoid the thick cloud of dust and dirt his action caused. Sirius' barking laughter made him feel foolish but it was better than the tinge of hysteria in his voice when he was reliving the past.
"Allow me," Sirius grinned, pulling his wand from an inner jacket pocket. A quick charm and the room wasn't quite free from dust but better than before and it was still better than sitting in the dark.
"So why did you open the drapes? There could have been a nest of doxies in there. The twins found one in an upstairs bedroom."
"If you have a wand, why are the others cleaning without magic?"
"Molly's trying to keep the kids occupied since they can't go outside. The twins were driving her crazy now that they can apparate."
"Still seems foolish. It will take forever that way." He shrugged, not understanding, but not concerned either. He had been cleaning the muggle way all of his life. The experience wouldn't hurt his friends.
"How are you doing, Sirius?"
While not emaciated, the man was still on the thin side. The crazed look in his eyes hadn't quite faded but Sirius was doing a better job at concealing it. His long hair was clean and his clothes while not brand new were clean as well.
"Shouldn't it be my job to worry about you, and not the other way around?"
"I'm fine."
The Dursleys were the same as ever, though more chores and less starvation. It had only been a few weeks, so that might have changed before the summer ended. His nightmares kept him awake more often than sleep, and his stomach empty, courtesy of Voldemort. And of course, he would soon be leaving everyone to go off to some strange school.
"Would you tell anyone if you weren't?"
"Probably not," he answered honestly. "Besides, you have enough worries, on the run from the Ministry as well as muggle law enforcement. You don't need to hear about my dreadful relatives."
"Not on run, so much as in hiding. With the Fidelius charm Dumbledore cast, Grimmauld is pretty secure."
"You said you hate it here."
Sirius attempted to wave off his concern. "It's just memories."
"I can see why. If I had to listen to that painting everyday, I'd hate it too. Why do you stay, though. I mean, I know you're allowing the Order to use the house for headquarters but that doesn't mean you have to spend everyday trapped in here."
"I'm still wanted by the ministry, Harry." Sirius explained. "And the muggle authorizes haven't stopped looking either. Dumbledore insists I remain here for safety sake."
"If a Death Eater can masquerade successfully as our DADA professor, as a noted Auror who is supposedly close friends with Dumbledore, why can't you, I don't know, use polyjuice potion to get you out of here for a few hours a day. I'm not saying that you shouldn't be careful but why would you trade one prison for another when you can use magic to disguise yourself and have some freedom?"
The fact that Sirius looked as if he hadn't even considered the possibility made Harry shake his head in exasperation. He had an excuse, at the Dursleys there was no way he could improve his circumstances. There was no way he would live like this voluntarily.
"If you hate this house so much, change it. Look at this place, it's gloomy and miserable. Get rid of the stuff you hate. Paint. Open the windows and allow some sunlight in. I'm sure Dumbledore could have one of the house elves find some furniture at Hogwarts that isn't being used and lend it to you since you were considerate enough to allow the Order work from here."
"I guess I didn't think about that. That's what happens when I'm back here. The memories, Harry, they seem to just swallow me up. I ran away from this place and swore I'd never return. And now I'm forced back here mostly due to my own foolhardy actions. I guess, I've been punishing myself for not doing right by you for all these years, leaving you stuck with those muggles when your father trusted me to look after you."
"I think twelve years in Azkaban is more than enough punishment, Sirius." He murmured. "At least do it for me then. I don't want to go off for the year, worrying about you suffering here trapped in your hated childhood house. I know we're on the brink of war with Voldemort's return but that's all the more reason to live while there is still a chance. You have a right to a few happy times."
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, realizing what Sirius might just be doing out of the guilt he felt for his role in Wormtail being secret keeper for his parents. "My father wouldn't want you punishing yourself for the stupidity of the wizarding world in not giving you a proper trial. He wouldn't want you punishing yourself for trusting in a best friend and being betrayed. That's like saying my parents deserved Voldemort finding them because they trusted Wormtail too."
"Everyone would be furious," Sirius chuckled, a light in his eyes now that was much better than the way he looked before. "Especially, Dumbledore."
"Isn't it funny how Dumbledore passes down commands and we all seem to just fall in line like good little soldiers without any complaint? I know he's the leader of the Order but it doesn't preclude making your own decisions about your life."
The more he thought about it, the more it bothered him. Dumbledore tells his friends to basically ignore him and they do it. He insists Sirius stay trapped in this house that he has to know carries horrid memories for his godfather. Dumbledore may be the most powerful wizard but it didn't mean his decisions were infallible.
"Aren't you an adult? Tonks, your cousin, she knows a bit about the muggle world right? Even Remus should be able to get around. Emmy would probably help too."
They were also responsible and would keep a sharp eye on Sirius so that he wouldn't do anything foolish to reveal himself. "You could go to the cinema or a museum or something. The zoo even. Just get out of this house a little each day. It isn't healthy being locked inside all of the time." He should know.
And Sirius had years of horrors to heal from being in prison. Why was he the only one who suggested this? Why was no one helping him?
"I know a little about cleaning," he wanted to snort at the irony in that statement but this was about his godfather and not the way the Dursleys treated him. "And I have two weeks before I leave; we could get a lot of work done around here in that time. What do you think?"
"It will be like an exorcism," Sirius seemed to enjoy the thought of his mother being some demon he had to clean out of his house.
"Is the backyard included under the Fidelius? Maybe we could have a bonfire?"
4
The Witching Hour
With the Order meetings and cleaning, it was all too easy for time to slip away. The privacy of his own room was great but it also meant no midnight talks between he and Ron like at the Burrow. It also meant that connecting with his best friend was a lot harder. Sure they spoke at dinner and played games of chess and joked with Hermione but somehow it all seemed to be on a level that was more superficial than before.
So he wasn't surprised when Hermione cornered him and suggested they meet after the Order gathering that evening and when all the adults had gone to sleep. He chose the parlor Sirius had taken him to because it was tucked away where if they managed to get a little noisy Mrs. Weasley would be less likely to hear them.
Grimmauld Place had finally quieted down for the night a little after midnight, so he grabbed the rucksack he found in the back of the closet and cracked open the door to his bedroom. Carefully tiptoeing down the hall and descending the stairs, he found the others waiting for him.
Ginny and Hermione were in their night clothes and a robe, unavoidable since Mrs. Weasley had made sure the girls were in their rooms for the night before heading off to bed herself. He wondered if they ever tired of the stifling mothering at times. Mrs. Weasley was extremely old fashioned in her beliefs in how a girl should behave and she tended to treat Ginny as if she were eight instead of fourteen. For Hermione who would turn sixteen in September it had to be even more aggravating.
Fred and George both were still dressed from the day, probably working on some new prank item for their store. He found it hilarious how they would listen to their mother scream at them and then continue about their business as if she hadn't said a word.
Ron too had dressed for bed. No one ever had to convince Ron to go to sleep. It was waking him up that tended to cause problems.
He had dressed for bed as well, knowing he would be tired later and wouldn't want to be bothered.
"It's about time," Ron rolled his eyes, his voice just barely a whisper. "Thought you had forgotten and gone to sleep instead."
"Come on, it's this way," he led the group to the room, before slowly opening the door so they could sneak inside. A quick wave of his wand had several candles lit using a spell that he had heard Sirius use.
"Harry! You know you aren't to use magic outside of Hogwarts." Hermione looked like she was gearing up for a tongue lashing.
"Fidelius, Hermione. They couldn't detect the magic anyway," he reminded her, before going to one of the tables to open his bag. Fred and George grinned mischievously and lit the fireplace to take the chill out of the summer night. They were probably the last people who needed to know that information but they were also sneaky enough to get away with using magic without their mother finding out.
Since he had left his relatives early, there was no need for the food he had bought from the restaurant, so he decided a midnight snack would be a nice addition to this little get together.
"What's all of this then?" Ron took a spot on the couch, watching him release the charms on the food containers.
"When Remus and Emmy took me out for the day, we went to this great restaurant that served Italian food. I bought some to take back to the relatives but Remus and Emmy insisted that I come here instead, so I thought I'd share with you guys."
He didn't need to tell Ron twice, who immediately dug in, grabbing half a calzone that Harry knew was filled with lots of meat and cheese. "This is great," he nodded eagerly around a mouthful, chewing quickly so that he could eat more.
For a while, there was only the sounds of eating. When he finished off his snack, he set the container aside, dusting fallen crumbs away. "So, you guys eager about school?" He would leave first, so he had no idea when the others would depart for the schools they would attend.
"A little," Hermione shrugged. She was always ready to learn new things, so a new school was probably terribly exciting for Hermione.
"You'll have to make sure to spend equal time outside of the library as you do in it," he reminded her, making the others laugh.
"Do you think we'll get disguises like you?" Ginny asked, her enthusiasm at the idea evident.
"Well, little Harry here is," Fred started.
"More noticeable than we mere wizards are." George finished. They both added little bows of subservience to stress the teasing in their comment.
"They had to do something-"
"To cover that huge-"
"Disfiguring scar that everyone-"
"Likes to gawk and point at."
Both wiggled their eyebrows and their relaxed bantering made them all laugh. "And don't forget the hair," he pointed out, more than willing to joke at his own expense.
"Of course," they agreed in unison.
"I just wish there were some way we could keep in contact with each other." Hermione said. "The year will be so long without all of you."
"Well, I bought some journals so that I could keep track of all the stuff I wanted to tell you all when I get back."
"That's a good idea!"
Ginny didn't look very excited but he could understand her reluctance. Her experiences with Tom Riddle's diary would have turned her off anything similar.
"Do you think we'll be able to play Quidditch?" Ron's brows drew together in uncertainty. If they were returning to Hogwarts, Ron had intended to try out for the team but now that things had changed, so would those plans.
"I don't even know if the schools will have Quidditch teams." That didn't seem to reassure Ron any.
"There are more important things than Quidditch," Hermione huffed. "Is that all you care about? It's our OWL year after all! We have to revise and be prepared. These tests will affect what NEWT level classes we can take and those in turn affect what careers we will be qualified for after leaving school."
"Bill said most Professors will admit anyone with an A or better on their OWLS, though some prefer an E. But Professor Snape doesn't allow anyone with less than an O on their Potions OWL in his NEWT level class," Ginny pointed out. "A lot of jobs require a Potions NEWT, like Healers and Aurors."
He wanted to worry but the threat of Voldemort was larger than a distant future. If the dark wizard had his way, Harry wouldn't live long enough to have a career after Hogwarts. These thoughts he kept to himself, not wanting to ruin the night for everyone.
"Then aren't we lucky we don't have to deal with that greasy git this year?" Ron smiled.
"RON!"
"What Hermione," he grimaced as he rubbed the shoulder she had punched. "It's the truth."
"I certainly considered it one of the positives of this situation," he backed his best friend.
"And you shouldn't be encouraging him to be disrespectful of a professor, Harry."
"I have no problem with the truth. The truth of the matter is that if I wanted a career that needed a Potions NEWT I might as well forget it. Snape would rather the world burn around him than do me any favors."
"Maybe if you and Ron paid more attention in class, or studied a bit more, or bothered to do your work before the day it is due, he wouldn't focus on you so much." Hermione spoke with quiet firmness and a decided respect for authority that he just couldn't muster to feel for a man who insulted him every single opportunity he had.
"Let's not argue," Ginny put in, trying to forestall the impending argument.
Harry waved off the entire conversation. He knew better than to try to change Hermione's mind about anything once it was set. Snape might be an insulting git to her but she had been taught to treat teachers with respect regardless if they deserved it or not. Maybe he would be better off he had the same parenting.
"We should probably get to bed, mum will be calling us early to help with the cleaning again."
Ron shot his sister a look of contempt that Ginny simply rolled her eyes at. "Who was it that convinced Sirius to do all this cleaning anyway?"
"That would be me I'm afraid." Harry raised a guilty hand. "He hates it here and needed something to take his mind off it."
"Well, as long as you're around to help finish," Ron muttered, as he really hated the manual labor.
"I'll be here for a while longer. At least that's what Remus tells me. Dumbledore hasn't spoken to me since coming to Privet Drive."
"I heard Mum yelling right after you first arrived. What did you tell them to get everyone so riled up?" Ron asked.
"Nothing much." He really didn't want to think about how his relatives hated him at the moment.
"Well she was right furious, especially with Dumbledore. I don't think I've ever heard her yell like that before. Not even when the Twins did something wrong."
"And that's-"
"Saying something, 'un mate?" George finished for his brother.
"Doesn't matter."
But that must have angered Hermione because she said, "Nothing seems to matter much to you lately Harry. Or else, you just don't want to talk to your friends about it, anyway." It was a less than subtle dig at him and she probably expected him to lash out but he decided to do just the opposite and ignore her.
If he could ignore Snape for the most part, Hermione would be easy.
5
Wind Beneath My Wings
The cleaning of Number 12 Grimmauld place grew into an epic journey that Harry wouldn't have missed for anything in the world. It put pleasure into his godfather's face and gave him a renewed sense of purpose.
When he spoke to Remus about their endeavor, the man had rather embarrassingly admitted that he never really considered doing it despite knowing how much Sirius hated living there. He also grudgingly acknowledged that keeping a man who had been falsely imprisoned for years locked away in said hated house was wrong as well. Remus agreed to getting Sirius out for small outings occasionally and said he would speak to Tonks and Emmy about helping. Sirius was already starting to show signs of frustration from hiding away.
They would have to be careful about purchasing the ingredients for the polyjuice potion with how the Ministry was behaving but there were apothecaries out of the England they could visit. As long as they didn't buy more than one or two ingredients in the same place they should be fine. If Hermione, Ron and himself could brew polyjuice potion in the girl's bathroom in their second year, the adults should manage it without any problems.
Sirius really threw himself into the renovations, completely ignoring Mrs. Weasley's protests about destroying perfectly good things. The Weasley family wasn't a rich one and the very idea of perfectly good items going to waste was repugnant to her. She just couldn't understand the bad memories this place had for Sirius. No one who hadn't lived life with a family who hated them could understand.
It wasn't about the money, it was about finding a sense of peace where Sirius had none.
Not that Sirius had spent much money. His idea of asking Professor Dumbledore about furnishings from Hogwarts was quickly agreed on. In between Order meetings, they dragged out furniture and linen and paintings, room by room, practically stripping Grimmauld bare.
The front parlor greatly resembled the Gryffindor common room but if that made Sirius feel better who was he to complain. The library was stripped of anything dark and made a comfortable place to sit and work or read. The kitchen was made open and welcoming, which did the most to appease Mrs. Weasley's offended sensibilities. And the dining room was transformed so it could be used for large meals. The ballroom that Harry had no idea existed was transformed into a large meeting room so the Order would no longer have to cram together in the kitchen for meetings. Fred and George grumbled of course when wards were placed around the room to keep out their clever listening devices.
Their only major obstacle was the house-elf, Kreacher, who fought the hardest against the changes in the beginning. The screaming fits between the old and slightly demented house elf and his slightly demented godfather were loud and fierce. During one particularly thunderous episode, Sirius had been a second from cursing the house-elf to death before they intervened.
At first Harry couldn't believe Sirius was making such a fuss until he heard Kreacher call Hermione a filthy mudblood and Remus a dirty half-breed. Hermione had tried to calm tempers by reasoning that Kreacher was only echoing what the Black family had taught him and while the words were disgusting, the house-elf wasn't necessarily to blame. It had been trapped here in Grimmauld place for years alone with only portraits that spewed such nastiness as company.
"Fine, he'll take himself immediately to Hogwarts to work in the kitchens and stay there," Sirius agreed after Remus made the suggestion. "He is to keep himself away from everyone but the other house elves of Hogwarts and he will follow the orders given to him by the Headmaster."
"Isn't that a little mean," Hermione murmured.
"It is but unfortunately we can't give Kreacher clothes. So sending him to Hogwarts kitchens with strict orders in place is the best place for him. Would it be better for him to sneak off to tell the Malfoy boy about the Order so the boy could inform his father?" Remus reminded her. Kreacher had attempted such actions before. They had to be specific for the house-elf would find someway around following the orders Sirius gave him.
"You do recall Dobby?" Harry asked, seeing Remus' point. The former Malfoy elf had good intentions but he had been deliberately disobeying and managed to cause a great deal of problems. He didn't even want to imagine what Kreacher could do if one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, or Voldemort himself, got a hold to him.
They finished all of the work on the first floor before he had to leave and Sirius decided to celebrate with a little party, a sort of house re-warming slash going off to school thing, mostly the Weasley family and Tonks, Emmy and Remus came, other Order members dropped in for a while before heading out. Even Dumbledore came and stayed for an hour before heading back to Hogwarts to prepare for the incoming students. Mrs. Weasley thoroughly enjoyed herself cooking the large meal and someone had set up a wizarding wireless for music.
Harry sat on a couch with Sirius watching the people around him, as it became more evident that he wouldn't see them until the end of the school year. Ron was trying to talk Ginny into a game of chess, while Hermione was chastising the Twins for some prank they had played on her. Things weren't quite back to normal with his friends and he felt bad for that.
Maybe Hermione was right and they should have tried to make amends with each other. At the time, he just didn't see a resolution, he understood they were under orders from Dumbledore but that didn't change his hurt feelings. It was something he would need to work out on his own. Either way, it was too late for he left in two days and it was better to leave things as they were.
"I'm glad you convinced me to do this," Sirius took another sip from the glass of red wine Emmy had given him earlier. It was hilarious when Sirius had flirted with her, as she had returned the favor. Sirius hadn't been expecting the response and been struck silent for the first time Harry had ever seen.
Emmy on the other hand just tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a secret smile and walked away, swishing in that long peach tinted sundress that gave more than mere suggestion of curves. He had to wonder what he would find between the two of them when he returned next year if they were dancing around each other like this already.
"You're glad you could take advantage of free labor," Harry grumbled jokingly. "It looks nice here."
"I'm pleased you think so, since you'll be returning here after school ends."
That was new. "Dumbledore agreed? What about me returning to the Dursleys for the wards?"
The older man took a deep breath, setting his glass aside, before turning a piercing gaze to him. There was a clarity and maturity in those grey eyes that Harry didn't often see. "Did you honestly believe we would allow you back there after what you told Emmeline and Remus?"
"I guess I just thought Dumbledore didn't care that I came to Grimmauld early." He had fully expected to have to return to Privet Drive with his relatives.
"Not for anything in the world, kiddo. This, such as it is, is our home now. You, me and Remus. Though I wouldn't be surprised to see Tonks moving in, if she gets her way," Sirius muttered in an aside.
Someone laughed loudly, drawing their focus back to the rest of the room. Hermione had moved on from the Twins and was sitting next to Ginny, who was still ignoring Ron. The adults were all situated around the room in different conversations and for the moment, Voldemort and thoughts of war were the furthest things from their minds.
Everyone was in good spirits and Harry was pleased these were the memories he would be taking with him.