Book One of the Heritage Series:
Harry Potter and the Return of Heritage
Chapter Four
Account Management
The next morning, Sirius had wanted them to be out of the door by seven o'clock, so he had woken Harry very early and literally forced him into the bathroom to get ready. Harry had just finished getting dressed when there was a light knock on the door, and he waited for whoever was outside to come in.
Remus stuck his head around the door.
"Morning, Harry. Good, you're ready," He said with a smile. "Sirius is just downstairs planning your exit. Molly is getting the kids up early to start cleaning the house, so he needed to make sure that you wouldn't be seen on the way to the floo."
Harry acknowledged him with a nod. "That's fine. Would you mind making the alterations to my appearance again? I know Sirius will prefer that we were not recognised."
Remus smiled. "Would you like to be James Evans again?" he asked, pulling out his wand.
"It worked well yesterday," Harry agreed. Remus started casting the spells needed, and five minutes later Harry stood in front of the mirror with sandy hair, green eyes, and a changed facial structure. It was such a good disguise that he found it difficult to recognize himself.
"Thanks, Remus."
The best part of the disguise was the make-up that covered his scar. Sirius had tried to hide it with a spell the night before, but every spell he had tried had failed, so he had resorted to stealing Hermione's make up and used that to cover up the lightning bolt scar.
"Are you ready for the meetings at Gringotts today?" he asked.
"Sirius explained the processes and what we would be doing," Harry replied, thinking on what Sirius had told him about what he had arranged. "He told me we would be formally claiming our family positions."
Remus hesitated for a second. "I see. So he has not told you yet." He said, but before he could elaborate Sirius walked in. "Sirius, as you can see, Harry is ready to leave, but I think there was something you wanted to speak to him about?" He asked with a pointed look before taking a dignified exit.
Sirius now looked slightly apprehensive, shooting a dark look at the door Remus had just left quickly through. "Yes, there was something I needed to discuss with you, and I think I have put it off long enough." He looked Harry directly in the eye.
"I am going to officially name you my Heir. You are my godson and the closest I have had to a son of my own. Ever since you were born, you have been dear to me, so it is with little consequence that I name you. You have been named my heir since your parents first went into hiding, something my grandfather somehow knew, but after today I will not just be a mere disowned pureblood but the Lord of an ancient and powerful family."
Sirius paused and looked away. "I am unable…that is to say, I am no longer able to have any children of my own. The long term effects of Azkaban and the Dementors are sterility." He coughed awkwardly, changing his tone to a more comfortable one. "The Black Estate and title must be passed to someone, and I can think of no one better than you. You are one of two who could inherit it when I die, so I would rather secure your position."
Sirius had hidden his feelings behind a veil of unmoving muscles and mask of indifference, but his eyes shone brightly and there was a hint of colour in his cheeks and a firm lump in his throat as he looked at Harry.
Harry was stunned; their relationship was still so new, so to know that Sirius thought him something akin to a son was unbelievable. It gave him an odd feeling of belonging. He did the only thing he could think of to do: he hugged Sirius tightly. "I would be honoured."
Sirius sniffed slightly and hugged him back before pushing him away and returning to his business-as-usual voice.
"As a boy, from the moment I was old enough to walk and talk, I was taught the lessons which every child of the Black family must learn. When making a plan, you must plan for every eventuality and never leave anything to chance. It is my intention for the two of us to take part in a blood adoption ceremony, which, with your consent, will make you my son in blood and magic."
"Had I taken you in like I should have all those years ago, I would have done this when you were still a baby. James and Lily had given their blessing when they named me godfather, as they felt it would offer you further protection. You will still be the son of James and Lily, but I will become something akin to a third parent, and you will gain the blood of my family, and the Black magic and name. Because of this, you will need to pick how you want to be named: Harrison Black-Potter or Harrison Potter-Black. I, personally, would go for Black-Potter; it sounds better on the tongue."
Harry could see that Sirius had thought this out well, and it was a relief to know that his parents had approved of this ceremony taking place. He had heard of the ceremony in History of Magic a number of times, and from what he remembered of Professor Binns's lectures, the ceremony only strengthened existing blood links between two people.
"So will you agree to me formally adopting you?" Sirius asked, his face again unreadable.
Harry realised that Sirius was scared that he would reject his offer, but Harry had no intention of doing that. Smiling, Harry said, "Of course I will agree; I'd be mad not to."
Sirius hugged him again, and this time tears streamed down his face. "I am not trying to replace your parents, but this is what I would have done if I had raised you."
"I know it is, Padfoot," Harry answered.
"You will need further lessons to learn how to be the Heir to both the House of Black and Potter, but today is the first steps in the rebirth of both our houses. The House of Black has fallen into decay and ruin, but the it will return to the forefront of our society. No more shall the House of Black be the dark family it is infamous for: you shall be the its future Lord, and I think you will do more for us than any of my forbearers." Sirius said, and when he said it, Harry felt power radiate from him.
When Harry asked Sirius about it, he replied, "That magic is mine, or, more accurately, the Black family magic, Familias magicano Spiritus, which it is also know by. This is the magic which each of the families have, and it is unique to us and this country. The magic is powerful and allows for the Lord, Lady or Head to protect their family. It also has further attributes, which I will teach you later, but it is volatile and uncontrollable. I have access to it now that I have accepted my position and not rejected my heritage, but I have no control over it as I do not have the ring, and it tends to slip out when its keeper speaks of the family with passion."
"To you, the Black Magic will feel raw and intimidating, which it feels to everyone, including me, but if you were to feel the Potter Magic you would find it warm and familiar, as it resides in you even now, for you are its keeper. Each family has an Incal, which is the name given to the animal which the family uses in their crest and the form of their magic. For example, my Incal, that is to say the Black Incal, is a Raven. Yours was a thestral when it was bound to the Peverells, but when it bound to the Potters it became a Griffin," Sirius explained. "You will see them in the claiming ceremony."
Harry didn't know what a thestral was, but he didn't want to bring that up at the moment. He felt slightly overwhelmed, but he was sure that everything would make sense when he saw it.
"So, are you ready?" Sirius asked him.
Harry nodded, and he and Sirius Floo'd to the Leaky cauldron. It had been a near miss not being caught by Mrs Weasley, but they had managed to get through the grate. Quickly, they made their way down through Diagon Alley, which was uncharacteristically empty.
When they got into Gringotts, Sirius approached the head teller.
"Good morning, Master Goblin. I am here for an appointment with Black Family Accounts manager Narfang," Sirius said, looking directly at the goblin in a way that Harry thought was brave around a goblin.
The Goblin looked shrewdly at Sirius, then at Harry, before nodding as he quickly got up and walked around to meet them. "Please follow me," the Goblin said with a gesture, and he led them to a door with the Black family crest on it, under which was a nameplate that read: Black Family Account Manager.
"Account Manager Narfang is through there," the Goblin said.
"Thank you, Griphook," Harry said, recognising him from the first time he had gone to his vault.
The Goblin in question looked at Harry with an unusual gaze. "You are welcome, Mr Potter."
Sirius gave him a questioning look. "He took me to my vault the first time I came here." Harry explained, and Sirius nodded and knocked on the door.
"Enter." A voice sneered.
They entered an office that, whilst it did not look grand or extravagant, was incredibly practical but it hinted at the wealth of the client within its décor. The walls were surrounded with bookcases and storage cupboards, all of which had a white gold plate inscribed in gobbledegook.
Sirius bowed his head slightly. "Account Manager Narfang. May I introduce my godson Harrison Potter?"
Following Sirius's lead, Harry bowed slightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
The Goblin nodded and gestured to the seats in front of him, which they took while he was looking over the documents on his desk. "Mr Black, I have reviewed the letters you sent to me and I have brought up the necessary tools. You wish to lay claim to your heritage: your title of Lord Black, Head of the Black Family, full access to the Black Assets and the right to control your seat on the Wizengamot. The same is true for Mr Potter, but as you are aware that he cannot claim his Lordship just yet, you are using the Ancient law governing the ascensions of scions, I believe."
Sirius nodded. "Yes, that is correct. I also enquired after the possibility of undertaking the blood adoption ceremony here in the bank, as I would like to make Harry a full member of the Black Family and my son. Would this be possible?"
"I did receive your note. I had to speak with Lord Ragnok for his acquiescence, and he agreed. There will be a cost for the potion but being your account manager I can tell you that you can afford it." Narfang pulled out a silver knife and parchment and placed them on the table in front of them. "I will have to confirm your identities. Please, both of you cut your forefinger on your wand hand and press it to one of these parchments."
Harry and Sirius did as they were bidden, and lines of gobbledegook appeared on the parchment, which Narfang studied intently before accepting their identities. "You are who you claim to be, so we can now get down to business."
He then rang a small bell on his desk, and a goblin walked in pushing a wooden trolley on which were two objects draped in white silk. As the courier turned to leave, Narfang handed him a note and gave him an instruction in his native tongue, and the goblin left quickly.
Turning back to them, Narfang said, "As I told you before, I took the liberty of fetching the ritual bowls from the Potter and Black Vaults. I will admit now that obtaining these from your ancestral vaults was difficult, but we managed to obtain them nonetheless."
Narfang pulled off one of the silk cloths and revealed a silver stone bowl with black etching in an ancient script around the rim, and in the centre of the inside of the bowl was a circle of black stone onto which was carved a raven.
"Mr Black, I trust you know what to do?" Narfang asked, indicating to the bowl.
Harry recognised the bowl from their lessons, remembering that they were made over a thousand years ago for blood magic, and that these bowls were the used for the rituals of ascending to the position of Lord of an Ancient House.
From his pocket, Sirius pulled out a silver knife covered in runes and etchings, and cut open his right palm, allowing the blood to pool within the ritual bowl and it coated the black raven etched stone. The bowl glowed for a moment and then a large black and silver flame ignited from the bowl and danced in front of them, crackling with magic.
"I, Sirius Orion, Son of House Black, heir to the Raven, claim Headship of House Black, and ascend to Lord of Blackmarsh. Recognise my claim through my blood and magic!"
The flame flashed brightly as he finished.
After the glare left Harry's eyes, he saw there was a large raven perched on Sirius's hand, its clever eyes regarding him intently. It was not unlike a patronus made of silver and black light, but it looked more corporeal. The Raven then squawked loudly and took flight, then jumped at Sirius.
The raven dissipated like smoke, and the silver and black light was absorbed into Sirius' body. A light glow of black and silver fell over Sirius' finger, and when it dimmed it left a ring that shone with black light. Eventually, the magic settled and was entirely absorbed, the ring's glow disappearing. As it did, Sirius's eyes briefly glowed bright grey before returning to normal.
The fires in the ritual bowl died immediately, and all traces of blood were gone. The bowl was pristine except for another ring that was sitting in the middle of the basin.
Sirius showed Harry the ring he had on his finger. It had a silver band, and on each side of the ring a raven was etched, carrying a large black stone in its beak that had the Black Crest inscribed on it. The second ring that was in the bowl was similar, except that it did not have the ravens on the band and the stone was smaller. "Heir rings do not have Incals as they are not the keepers of the magic, which is why the Head of house ring has the Incal," Sirius explained. "You now need to do the same, but remember you can only take the Headship."
Harry took Sirius's fancy knife hesitantly, and cut open his palm and held it over the bowl that the Narfang had uncovered and pushed in front of him. His family ritual bowl was dark green and with a pale grey stone and etching, but the Incal in the centre was different. It looked like two circling animals, but he struggled to see it clearly as his blood began to drip onto them.
"Those are the Peverell colours, seeing as it was their ritual bowl." Sirius said quietly as Harry looked at it carefully.
Once the blood had coated the stone, it glowed before igniting the magical fire, which was silver and green, matching the colors of the bowl, but that soon changed to a golden brown and silver fire, which were the Potter colours. Hesitantly, Harry placed his hand into the flames. He could feel the raw power of them, and it made his hand tingle.
"I, Harrison James, Son of House Potter, heir to the Griffin, claim Headship of House Potter. Recognise my claim through my blood and magic!"
Harry wasn't blinded by the light this time, and he saw a silver and green reptilian horse with wings appear from the flame, which he assumed was a thestral. It did not stay formed for very long as it quickly transitioned into a golden brown and silver griffin which looked directly at Harry with its own independent intelligence.
Its gaze startled Harry, as it seemed to see into his very soul, and it radiated power, a power that Harry realized felt very comforting, like it was holding him in warm arms. Suddenly, the Griffin opened its wings and screeched, then jumped at Harry.
Harry had expected this as the Black Raven had done the same, so he did not move. As the Griffin dissipated, and became a light haze of light that was absorbed into his body, and a large ring appeared on his right forefinger. It was made of silver, the front had a Griffin's head and on the sides was the pattern of its wings. A light grey stone was set into it where the eyes would be, onto which was carved the Potter family crest.
The ring's silver stone glowed briefly as the remaining magical residue was soaked into his body, and as the light died in the stone Harry felt it his eyes burn briefly before everything settled down.
"Well, that was easy." Sirius said taking his knife back and whipping it clean with a cloth he conjured.
Harry nodded distractedly; he could still feel the family magic, but it was very deep in him and barely noticeable.
"I think this may be a good time to go over the Black Finances and, if possible, release the lockdown on the Potter vaults. I trust that this is now possible, Narfang?"
"Of course, Lord Black." The goblin went to one of the cupboards and placed his hand to the metal plate and pulled out a document and then did the same at another, then handed them to both of them. "This is the summary of your assets as it was when your accounts froze thirteen years ago. I took the liberty of updating the value of your trust vaults current level."
- Gringotts Annual Audit of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter -
Vaults
Potter Ancestral Vault : 4,179,496 Galleons – 10 Sickles - 23 Knuts
: Estimated Value of miscellaneous contents 3,500,000 Galleons
Potter Dowager Vault : 50,000 Galleon Limit
Potter Trust Vaults
Vault: 787 – Harrison Potter : 15,680 Galleons – 10 Sickles – 22 Knuts
Vaults: 788-791 : 20,000 Galleon Limit
Property
Cottage, Godric's Hollow: Registered Historical Monument
Hogs Hill, Hogsmeade, Scotland: Land leased to Hogwarts School in 1971
Potter Estate, Peveralle Valley, Lake District: Peverell Manor Destroyed in 1977
Business investments
Butterbeer Distillation Company: 22%
Discreet Elf Services: 60%
Daily Prophet: 4%
Eeylops Owl Emporium: 5%
Honeydukes: 6%
Quality Quidditch Supplies: 11%
Slug & Jiggers Apothecary: 11%
Twilfitt and Tatting's: 4%
Zonko's Joke Shop: 10%
Harry could not believe what he was looking at; Sirius had said that he was wealthy, but he never expected such an amount. He also had no idea that he had business investments.
"What do the percentages mean?" Harry asked Sirius, but to his surprise it was Narfang who answered.
"That's is the percentage of the company or enterprise that you own. Some will be businesses that you own, others will be from enterprises families invest in, and others were given in payment for debts." Narfang explained briefly as he worked through some paperwork.
He then handed the parchment to Sirius, who he knew would have a better understanding of what he had.
Harry was surprised when Sirius gave him the Black Annual Audit parchment.
"It will be yours one day," he said as an explanation.
Harry looked at the parchment and saw the differences between the two.
- Gringotts Annual Audit of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black -
Vaults
Black Ancestral Vault : 2,285,902 Galleons – 8 Sickles – 14 Knuts
: Estimated Value of miscellaneous contents 3,162,043 Galleons
Black Dowager Vault : 90,000 Galleon Limit
Black Trust Vaults
Vault 472 (Bellatrix Lestrange) : 20,647 Galleons – 16 Sickles – 23 Knuts
Vault 471 (Narcissa Malfoy) : 4,495 Galleons – 5 Sickles – 26 Knuts
Vault 486 (Draco Malfoy) : 15,000 Galleon Limit
Vaults 473-485 (Unused) : 25,000 Galleon Limit
Vaults 487-490 (Unused) : 15,000 Galleon Limit
Property
Ravenwood Hall, Blackmarsh, Norfolk: Uninhabited
Black House, Location Unknown: Unknown
Black Lodge, Bulgaria: Hunting Lodge Closed
Black Rose House, Moscow, Russia: Uninhabited
Black Villa, France: Uninhabited
45 Rectory Hill, Colchester, Essex: Sealed after arrest of Owner
Business investments
Borgin and Burkes: 13%
Daily Prophet: 18%
English Elf Winery: 68%
Hogshead pub: 3%
Slug & Jiggers Apothecary: 10%
Twilfitt and Tatting's: 4%
Zonko's Joke Shop: 10%
Family
Bellatrix Ursula Lestrange née Black: Daughter of House
Narcissa Isla Malfoy née Black: Daughter of House
Draco Lucius Malfoy: Son of House
Harry James Potter: Heir presumptive of House
"You're related to the Malfoys?" Harry asked, looking at the parchment in shock.
Sirius smirked slightly at his expression. "Of course. All purebloods are related in some way. I believe we are second cousins, as your grandmother was Dorea Black before she married Charlus."
There was a knock on the door, and the goblin from before walked in and placed a glass goblet in front of them which contained a golden potion.
"If you would place two drops of blood in here please Lord Black," Narfang said with a gesture to the goblet.
Sirius did as instructed, and as the drops of his blood hit the potion, it began to smoke slightly.
"If you could, place four drops please, Mr Potter."
Taking Sirius's now clean knife, Harry nicked his finger and dropped his own blood into the now swirling potion. The effect was immediate: it turned a deep red and began to spit out golden sparks. The goblin pulled out two smaller glass goblets, poured equal amounts of the potion into each, and handed them one each.
"Please drink the potion quickly."
Both Harry and Sirius shared looks of revolution at having to drink a potion that looked like blood, but they both drank it quickly, and Harry was surprised that it did not have a taste at all.
Narfang then pulled out a new parchment. "This is a magical contract and is required by law for this ceremony to be recognised and endorsed by the Ministry of Magic. It is a simple contract stating that Lord Black takes Mr Potter be his son and recognised into the House of Black, but it will however need to be signed with a blood quill."
Harry glanced at Sirius, not quite sure what a blood quill was, and Sirius saw the look and explained.
"A Blood Quill uses your own blood to write. They are a highly restricted in their use and can only be used in Gringotts and the Ministry for signing contracts. Usually, the use on a minor is illegal, apart from when their guardian or parent gives permission,"
Sirius then turned to Narfang, who was pulling out another sheet of parchment. "I expect that I will need to sign a waiver in order for Harry to use the quill?"
Nodding, Narfang handed the document to Sirius, who signed it easily. Once it was handed back, the goblin checked that it was in order, he passed over the adoption documents.
Harry took a moment to decide his new surname, then filled in the space for his name and signed the document. As he wrote, he could feel the back of his hand itch slightly, but after he finished he looked at it and could find no sign of irritation.
Sirius also added his own signature to the document and when he finished, the writing of the contract glowed gold, and then it duplicated and a new document was generated from thin air over it.
Harrison James Black-Potter
Son of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter
Son of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Father: Lord James Charlus Potter
Mother: Lady Lily Eloise Potter Néé Evans
Father: Lord Sirius Orion Black
Grandfather: Lord Charlus Fleamont Potter
Grandmother: Lady Dorea Violetta Potter néé Black
Grandfather: Edward Evans
Grandmother: Helena Evans Néé Wells
Grandfather: Orion Altair Black
Grandmother: Walburga Mildred Black
Godmother: Lady Alice Hannah Longbottom Née Blake
"I didn't know that Neville's mother was my godmother." Harry said sadly. They had both lost their parents and he still wasn't sure who was in the worst situation.
"Lily and Alice were great friends when were at Hogwarts. Alice taught Lily how to be a member of the Ancient Houses, as both the Longbottoms and the Blakes are members." He then looked mournful. "Your parents were actually godparents to Neville, so he does not have anyone apart from Augusta, and she is quite a formidable woman."
'I will have to get to know him better, we are not as close as our parents would have wanted,' Harry thought, realizing that he wasn't sure who Neville was friends with. He knew that all of Gryffindor liked him, but he didn't seem to have any close friends, although Harry had often seen him with Ginny.
Sirius turned to the goblin. "Narfang, I thank you for the service you have provided the House of Black today, and in payment to Gringotts I give a thousand galleons. In addition, for your own services since I contacted you a few weeks ago, I give you a gift: you may take one piece of goblin made armour from the Black Vault. I would also like you to take a stipend of eleven per cent of the profit you make the Black Family this year, with a bonus of ten per cent if you increase the value of my vaults by thirty-five per cent." Sirius said with an authoritative tone, and Harry realized he was talking as Lord Black, and he hoped that his godfather would be able to teach him how to do that.
The Goblin looked at Sirius for a moment, and then nodded. "I can see the Potters teaching in you, since none of your predecessors have been so generous or respectful to the Goblin Nation. I will look into the opportunities for you, and I will send you some proposals over the next few months."
"I believe that you should be rewarded for increasing the gold in my vaults, and that you will be inclined to increase them if your own vaults increase," Sirius explained and the goblin smirked in response. "And I do hope I am different from my predecessors; I mean to change the reputation of the Black Family."
Harry suddenly realized he didn't know who handled his gold. "Account manager Narfang, who currently manages the Potter Accounts?"
The Goblin blinked. "There is no current Account manager, as your other Vaults have been in lockdown since your parents' death. As of today they will be reactivated, and the gold can begin to be invested again."
Harry nodded, not having known that. "I am aware that my family has used goblin account managers in the past; did my family use the services of a particular clan of Goblins? If so, I would like to meet with them so I can appoint an account manager, and if not, is there anyone you would recommend? Unless you would like to manage my accounts?"
The Goblin bared his teeth, which Harry realised was a smile. "I did very rarely liaise with your family, but even in that short amount of time I could see that you like your father and grandfather showed respect to Goblins. Your family is a strange one, and long has it been so." The Goblin paused and examined Harry again, Harry did not move under his scrutiny: he would not be intimidated. "To answer your question, no clan was ever appointed to your Accounts, so you are free to pick your own. And while I appreciate the gesture, I cannot take on your vaults, as it would be a conflict of interest. Even when you do inherit the Black Account, they should be kept separate to keep them both working independently, and then they could be easily split when your lines separate once again."
Harry frowned; he was about to interrupt but Sirius beat him to it.
"There is much that I still have to teach Harry, Narfang, and I am sure you will understand he has not received the correct upbringing of the Ancient Houses, but I will rectify that. Is there any goblin that you would recommend? I know that Harry is an acquaintance of Griphook; would he be an option?"
Narfang fingered his beard. "Griphook is a senior teller, but he has no experience in account managing beyond what he is taught by Gringotts, but he is looking to progress. If you are agreeable, I could approach him on your behalf, monitor his performance, and write up a contract. If he manages to increase the vault value of the Potter accounts by thirty percent in the next two years, if you are agreeable, he can stay on as Account manager. If he fails, we will find another."
Harry thought for a moment. "Whether he succeeds or not, I want to set the same conditions that Lord Black set for you as motivation for him to perform. If he does not increase the value by the target amount, he will receive the yearly stipend only, and will get a job reference that matches the job that he did for the period his was my Account manager. Is that acceptable?"
"That is most acceptable. I will have the contract drawn up immediately," Narfang agreed. "I will send you the contract in the next few days, and if Griphook accepts, he will schedule an appointment with you before you go back to Hogwarts, Mr Potter."
"Thank you, Manager Narfang," Sirius and Harry said with a slight bow, and they left the Bank ten minutes later after Sirius made a withdrawal from his vaults, paying twenty galleons for a withdrawal fee so they did not have to go down to the vaults.
They spent the rest of the morning shopping. Sirius took Harry shopping for clothes, and they went to Madam Makin's for everyday robes, although they were still of the highest quality she had. Next, they went to Twilfitt and Tattings to order some more expensive robes, which were more formal and elegant that the others they bought, and Sirius also picked up an order form to send an owl order for a set of robes for Harry's hearing. The last clothing shop they stopped in was Non Wizarding Fashions, a shop ran by a young muggle born couple who catered for non-magical clothing, mostly for use in the muggle world. Sirius made Harry buy all manner of clothing from the shop: shirts, trousers and shoes for smart attire, a few pairs of jeans and t-shirts, jackets for the summer and winter, underwear, socks, pyjamas and a dressing gown.
Harry was horrified by the amount of gold they had spent, but Sirius would not listen to his protests, citing that as his father he was allowed to spend his gold on his son as he saw fit, and this immediately made Harry silent.
Once they were done, Sirius shrunk all of the bags down to nothing and placed them into his pocket. "Now, we best get back quickly. Hold onto my arm as tight as you can," he instructed Harry, who grabbed his arm tightly. "Hold onto your breakfast, as you are going to experience side-long apparition," he stated, and with a twist of Sirius's arm, suddenly Harry was pulled through a very tight dark space. His eyes felt stretched and there was great pressure on his eardrums, but suddenly as it had happened, it was over, and they were in the grass square of Grimmauld Place.
They walked across the road and went up the stone steps, and the door opened without any prompt from Sirius, which made Harry wonder if Sirius was using wandless magic.
"The House is imbued with the Black Family magic; it recognizes me as both its owner and Lord Black. The house wards are also tuned to me, and I will need to mark the ward stone with my blood to gain full control," Sirius explained. "As heir of the house, you also have limited access to them, which reminds me: this is yours." He pulled out the Black Heir ring. "Wear it at all times. I must warn you, however, to never let anyone other than yourself or a family member wear the ring, or it could kill them or curse them horrifically."
Harry placed the ring on his ring finger on his right hand; he could feel the Black family magic now, both in himself and the house.
"When can I see the Weasleys and Hermione?" Harry asked.
"Sirius Black!" said a stern voice. "How could you be so reckless?"
Turning, Sirius saw Molly Weasley standing there with her hands on her hips and wearing a look of severe disapproval.
"To what are you referring to, Molly?" Sirius asked casually.
"You left this house!" she hissed. "Dumbledore expressly told you not to!"
"Dumbledore advised me that I shouldn't leave," Sirius said calmly, "but I am a grown man. I will do as I please and I will not be spoken down to by anyone."
Molly gave him a sharp look, but deflated slightly. "Well, in any case I should tell you that Albus sent a note. He wants us to collect Harry this evening."
"Ah, but there is no need." Sirius said. "Harry is already here."
A look for confusion crossed her face, then Harry took a step forward from out of the shadowed doorway.
"Harry, dear!" she exclaimed. "How did you get here?"
"I went and got him," Sirius said. "I did not think it wise to leave him at the Dursley's after what happened."
"That was not your decision to make," Molly said angrily.
Sirius raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought that, as Harry's guardian, it was my obligation to see to his wellbeing?"
Mrs Weasley didn't look impressed with his response at all.
"Well, you may be interested to know that there is a meeting happening at the moment, which you are late for I might add. The guard we were arranging is downstairs, so you better get downstairs and tell them what you have done. I will take Harry up to where he will be staying."
Sirius turned away from Molly, but Harry saw the tightness in his features and could tell how irritated he was with her.
"Go with her, and say you have been here since last night and we have been spending time together, but mention nothing of what we have actually been doing, the adoption, or your heritage," Sirius instructed quickly in a whisper, blocking all sight of his face to Mrs Weasley.
Harry met his eyes and nodded, walking passed Sirius, who let him pass, and following Mrs Weasley to the staircase.
"It is good to see you, Harry," she said warmly, smiling at him happily, but Harry thought he could see some anger in her chocolate coloured eyes that was aimed at Sirius, who ducked down into doorway that led downwards. "You look very smart in those robes. Did you get them through owl order from Madam Malkins?"
Harry smiled at her; Mrs. Weasley was one of the most nurturing women he had ever met, and he was quite fond of her. She was a overprotective mother and she always meant well but was set in her ways. Idly, he wondered what Kreacher would think if he had heard Mrs Weasley, for the robes he was wearing may be old but they were still better quality than most of Madam Malkins best.
"I ordered a catalogue last year and decided that I would actually use it after seeing an offer on clothes in the Prophet," Harry lied. It wasn't a great cover story, but she bought it and scowled when he mentioned the wizarding paper.
"You will be staying on the first floor, and you will be sharing with Ron. He and Hermione are both here and they should be getting a bed made up for you actually. Now go through that door. I would stay, but I am needed downstairs."
She pointed him towards a rickety door before turning around, hurrying back down the stairs to join the meeting that she had mentioned before. Harry watched her walk down the dark staircase before taking a deep breath, calming himself for what was about to come, and opened the door she had indicated to.
It was a reasonably sized room, a little smaller than his room upstairs, but it was dark and dank. On either side of the room were two old mismatched beds and two battered bedside tables, and the only other furniture in the room was a large wardrobe that was dirty and stained, but the grime concealed what looked like a once intricately carved finish. Atop the wardrobe was Pigwidgeon, Ron's small pet Scops owl, who was twittering around in his cage making a racket.
The walls of the room may have once been adorned by handsome wallpaper, but now it was faded, dirty and peeling, making it was impossible to make out an original colour or design. Even the only portrait on the walls was just a muddy brown canvas in a dirty ornate frame.
Both Hermione and Ron were standing by one of the beds with their back to the door, a pile of linen at their feet, and in the process of placing pillowcases on pillows and discussing Harry.
"He's going to be incredibly angry when he gets here," Ron said gloomily.
"I know, but if we can explain to him before he loses his temper," Hermione said in an equally miserable voice, "If we can just tell him that we had no choice, he may then understand. I wish we had never sworn that we wouldn't tell him anything that could threaten him and the Order. Not all codes can be broken, and we could have just told him something to make him understand."
"The Order doesn't think we are old enough to join them, or know what it is they are discussing all the damn time. I doubt they think us capable of tying our laces, let alone writing a coded message to Harry," Ron snapped, throwing the pillow onto the bed. "We're here to clean, eat and sleep."
Harry found himself incredibly conflicted listening to his friends talk about his reaction to their silence and useless letters. He had been looking forward to seeing them both since the moment they had parted, and that feeling had stayed even when he had secretly been in the same house as them for two days, but now that he was faced with them, he wasn't sure he did want to speak his friends.
"Ron, that's pointless," Hermione huffed. "They're not going to listen to us. Now can you help with the quilt cover? We might be able to listen to the meeting if we hurry," she said, grabbing the bedding from the pile.
Harry decided it was now or never.
"Don't bother with the quilt. I won't be sleeping in it."
Both of his friends were caught off guard by his arrival: Hermione almost toppled over the quilt cover as she spun around and tangled herself in it, and Ron's head spun around so fast that Harry wouldn't have been surprised if he had whiplash.
"Harry!" Hermione shrieked happily as she ran to him, the linens forgotten, and hugged him tightly. "We weren't expecting you until this evening! How are you? When did you arrive?"
"Easy, Hermione," Ron said with a smile on his face. "He was attacked by dementors only a few days ago; he doesn't need to be attacked again. You alright, mate?"
Hermione released him and took a step back, now looking incredibly anxious, and Ron also looked hesitant as they waited for Harry to reply.
Sighing, Harry walked over to the window and looked out over the garden below where a sleeping Buckbeak was tethered.
"I won't lie: I'm angry with you both, but I know why you didn't tell me anything, so it wasn't your fault."
"Harry, we are really sorry," Hermione said earnestly. "We kept arguing with them, the Order, but they wouldn't listen. We kept trying to find a way to write a coded message, but nothing we wrote was secure enough for them."
Harry didn't respond to her, feeling his anger start to simmer like a heating kettle.
"When did you get here?" Ron asked in an effort to change the subject to something less tense. "I thought they were collecting you tonight?"
"They were going to," Harry said with a snort. "What the Order didn't know is that I have been in this house since the night of the dementor attack."
Hermione and Ron were shocked by his words, and they looked at him, aghast.
"Then why haven't we seen you?" Hermione said weakly, tears beginning to well in her eyes.
Harry realised that he was going to have to lie to his friends, and even though he was angry with them the thought of lying didn't sit well with him, so he quickly thought up the most convincing half-truth he could think of.
"Sirius brought me here and I was keeping out of sight. I want to spend time with my godfather without intervention, something which I have been denied since I was an infant."
"But we're your best friends; why would you stay away from us?" Ron asked quietly. "Didn't you want to see us?"
Harry laughed mirthlessly at his friends, his anger and irritation driving him to snap at them like a wounded animal.
"What difference does it make? Had I arrived tonight it would have been no different. You two have been here together while I had been stuck at the Dursley's for one entire month, a month where neither of you came up with a way to get me a message, a month where you adhered to the secrecy you swore to, even though you aren't members of the Order that is meeting in this house!"
"We tried Harry, we really did!" Hermione said with silent tears dripping down her face, taking a step back like he had slapped her and clutching at her arms like she needed protection from his words.
"You didn't try hard enough!" Harry shouted, his temper getting ready to burst. "Yes, the Order may think all magical methods aren't secure enough, but you're a bloody muggleborn! I live with muggle relatives and this house is in a muggle area! Pick up a phone or send me a letter!"
Hermione blinked, dumbfounded. Looking bewildered, Ron glanced back and forth between them.
"How are the muggle methods more secure?"
"But they would be," Hermione whispered. "Most Death Eaters are purebloods, and I would imagine even the halfbloods wouldn't know enough about muggles to monitor communications. They probably don't even know what a telephone is! How could I be so stupid? Harry, I'm so sorry! I didn't think about muggle alternatives."
Seeing his friend so upset with herself and crying brought Harry's temper back into check, and he now felt a twinge of guilt for his actions, so he decided to move passed their failings, and he changed the subject.
"So you don't go to any of these meetings? Sirius hasn't actually told me anything about what has been happening here."
"Nope, not a single one, since they say we're too young." Ron explained quickly, picking up the conversation to try and steer it away from dangerous ground. "We may not know exactly what has been going on, but we have managed to get the gist from listening in on meetings when we can."
"They always mention guard duties and keeping an eye on something," Hermione said. "It's all they seem to go on about, actually."
"They are also monitoring known Death Eaters, like Malfoy and people like Macnair," Ron added. "We don't know why they're doing this either, but I suppose it doesn't matter."
"So what do you actually do here?" Harry asked, looking around the room. From what he had seen of the house, it was not a place ripe for enjoyment.
Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. "We clean. This house has been uninhabited for so many years that things have started to grow and breed in it, and the magic of the house is like a disease that has infected everything."
"There's an elf who lives here, but he's bonkers, and he only makes things dirtier." Ron picked up the fallen linens, throwing them on the bed, and took a seat. "Never met an elf so horrible."
"He is old, Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed, looking affronted. "He has been left alone in this festering house with the residual magic seeping into everything, and I bet that wouldn't do much for anyone's mental health."
"Hermione, his life goal is to have his head mounted on the wall with the other members of his family. I'm sorry, but that's not normal, even by elf standards," Ron said dismissively. "And don't even start on SPEW."
"I agree that he is a little odd, but he cannot be blamed!" Hermione stated firmly before turning back to Harry, changing the subject again. "I can't believe what the Ministry is doing to you. The law is on your side, but what Fudge is trying to do is ridiculous. Are you nervous about the hearing?"
"No," Harry lied, not wanting to admit that he was. Sirius was getting him prepared, but if he went into the trial at this moment in time, he wasn't sure that he would walk out with his wand intact.
"So, has anything else happened that I should be aware of?" he added wanting to get the attention away from the future trial.
"Well, Percy has disowned us all," Ron sneered.
"What? Why?" Harry exclaimed, startled by the disgust in his friend's voice. He had never heard Ron use that tone when speaking about his family. It was a tone reserved for the Malfoys, but never his own kin.
"Well, it seems that the ambitious git has deluded himself into believing that Fudge handpicked him because of his brilliant abilities," Ron explained, and seeing Harry's confused look, he elaborated. "A day after we returned from school, Percy came home so full of himself I'm surprised his head got in the door. He had received a promotion: Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic by Fudge himself."
"It is the second highest administration job in the Minister's office," Hermione interjected. "The job entails working closely with the Minister and all visitors in matters of state."
"Percy gathered us at the kitchen table to impart his so-called fantastic news and expected us all to be happy for him," Ron continued darkly. "But none of us congratulated him. We sat stunned, but it was Dad who broke the silence and shook his head, telling Percy that he was so disappointed in him and that he was blinded by his own ambition and drive."
"Well, Percy got angry at that, and he practically screamed at Dad, saying that the reason our family doesn't have any money is because Dad is a weak wizard and that his improper muggle fascination brings further shame on the family. He blamed Dad for the pressure that he had been under in the Ministry, saying that being a Weasley and the son of muggle-loving fool meant that he couldn't be trusted or respected."
Harry was shocked to his core. Percy had always been his least favourite Weasley sibling, and Harry had often wondered how he had not been a Slytherin, since he probably the most ambitious person Harry knew, but shouting at Mr Weasley was not something that he had thought Percy capable of. Fred and George, maybe, but not his own father.
"Dad dismissed Percy's words and didn't even raise his voice once, but he was angry; I had never seen him look so angry before. Dad asked Percy that if he was so ashamed of him and his family then why was he still living under his roof? If he thought himself to be superior, he should move out and prove that he didn't need his family. Dad told him that he was blinded by his work and that he needed to pull his head out of his arse and smell the real world," Ron recanted, sounding awestruck just remembering the scene.
"Sounds intense," Harry admitted, not being able to imagine Mr Weasley getting so angry.
"You don't know the half of it. When Dad spoke and looked at Percy, the house shook and it felt like even the air had turned icy and hostile against him. That night, Percy packed up all his stuff and left before any of us woke up. Mum searched for him for two days, and eventually tracked him down to his new flat in here in London," Ron spat. "And then the git refused to speak with her and threatened to call the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol and have her removed if she didn't stop harassing him."
Harry whistled, not knowing what to say; it certainly was a lot to take in.
"Fudge wanted him to spy on your dad, didn't he?" Harry asked, looking for confirmation to his suspicion.
Ron shrugged. "That's what Dad thought, and the Order did too. Don't mention it around Dad, though, it's a touchy subject. He'll get angry at just the mention of Percy's name, and Mum will cry."
"So what have you been doing with Sirius?" Hermione asked Harry. "You said you were spending time together."
"Just talking, mostly," Harry said. "He wanted to know more about me, and he told me more about my parents and himself."
Hermione nodded in understanding.
They were quiet for a few moments, but the silence was interrupted by Ginny walking in.
"Hi, Harry," She said cheerfully. "I thought I heard your voice. You're not hiding anymore?"
"What do you mean, hiding?" He asked, confused at the word.
"You arrived the other day," she explained, ignoring the looks of shock from Hermione and Ron. "I was in the bathroom when you arrived and saw you walk across the landing when I opened the door."
"You knew that he was here!" Ron practically shouted. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Hermione was asleep when I got back to our room, and when we went down for breakfast Harry wasn't there and Sirius didn't mention him at all. I knew that the Order was planning on getting him, and I guessed that Sirius had brought him here without people knowing and it was a secret."
Ron nodded begrudgingly, accepting her words, but he was still not happy with his little sister keeping things to herself. Harry, on the other hand, smiled a little. Ginny, unlike her brother, had a sense of tact, and she had luckily made a good choice in concealing his arrival.
"Thanks for not saying anything," Harry said sincerely. "It was good to spend some time alone with my godfather. Did you need something, or was you just saying hello?"
Ginny smiled at him and then looked at her brother, who was still glaring daggers at her.
"Can I borrow Pigwidgeon? I need to send a letter."
Ron grunted in reply and pointed to his little owl.
"Take him, but who are you writing to? That's the fourth letter you have sent in three days."
"Luna" she said simply.
"As in Lovegood?" he asked with surprise. "I didn't think you spoke to each other much, not since you were younger."
"We are in the same year and we share classes," she told him, reaching up and pulling down the cage. "She may be odd, but she's a good friend. She doesn't judge people," she added pointedly, glaring at her brother and leaving with the excited owl.
"She better not have a boyfriend," Ron said the moment she was gone. "I won't let anyone put their hands on my little sister."
Laughing, Hermione said, "Ron, she's fourteen years old. Ginny will have boyfriends, and as I am sure you know, she can look after herself."
"She's is my little sister, and she's too young to be kissing boys!' Ron snapped as if Hermione had just told him that Ginny would be married and have grandchildren soon.
"I kissed Viktor Krum last year. Was I too young?" Hermione asked in a deceptively calm voice.
Ron took a step back, his ears going red. "What has Vicky got to do with anything?"
"I asked you if you had a problem with me kissing Viktor last year?" Hermione said in the same tone. "I was in the same year as Ginny is now."
"That's not the point!" Ron said, giving her a rather suspicious look. "Do you still speak to him?"
"Yes," Hermione said, smirking dangerously, and added, "He had asked me to visit him in Bulgaria this summer."
Ron muttered something under his breath that Harry didn't hear, but Hermione did.
"I beg your pardon, Ronald Weasley," she hissed, raring up at whatever he said, ready for an argument.
"I didn't say anything," he said hastily, fleeing the room without another look at her.
Hermione stood there looking at the door which he had escaped through, irritated and confused.
"Why does it bother him so much? Just mentioning Viktor makes him irrational."
Harry smiled and tried to reassure Hermione, but a part of his mind began to think about his friends. "He's just being protective. Why didn't you go to Bulgaria?"
"I was going to; Viktor invited me to stay at his house, and my parents agreed to pay for the trip." she said. "Nothing untoward, just as friends, but a few days into summer Mr Weasley came over and explained about the Order and invited me to stay. Viktor was disappointed, but he said that if I'm still welcome. He will be starting his Quidditch training soon anyway, and he's left Durmstrang."
Harry felt sorry for her, hearing the disappointment in her voice and wondering why she had stayed; they obviously were not allowed in the meetings and cleaning the house sounded rather boring, especially when compared to Bulgaria.
"Look, Hermione, I'm sorry I shouted at you earlier. I am just resentful that you got to come here, while I was stuck at the Dursley's."
"I know, Harry, and both Ron and I were expecting it," She said. "The twins were also on our side. They wanted to go and get you again, but since they didn't have a flying car, they couldn't."
Harry laughed at the reminder of Mr Weasley's Ford Anglia.
Ron walked back into the sound of them laughing. He seemed to have calmed himself down, but he still refused to look at Hermione.
"What?"
"Just reminiscing about a trip to Hogwarts in a flying car," Harry told him.
"We will be legends at Hogwarts for that," Ron said with a smile. "We can go downstairs for lunch now; the meeting's over."
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