Chapter 4: Turmoil to Overcome
Hello again! I'm on vacation! Whoo hoo! The beach, family, good food! It's wonderful, but I haven't forgotten about you guys! Here is the next chapter, all wrapped up in a bow for you all. :) Let me know what you think.
All around him, there was darkness. For what could be miles and miles, or merely inches before his face, there was just black, almost as if he had fallen into a pool of ink. He felt weightless; maybe he really was in a pool of ink. He couldn't move, as much as he tried. His body simply floated along, nothing touching solid ground. Was he actually dead this time? No, that wasn't possible.
In the corner of his peripherals, there was something else. It was not black, but…light, maybe? Yes, it came closer and he could tell it was, in fact, light. A screen, of sorts. His hand floated up, neither against his will or with it, and his fingertips just barely brushed against its smooth surface. A whirl of colors appeared, and took shape before his very eyes.
On the ground was a woman, very much in a blur, but becoming clearer by the second. As Harry gazed upon her, he realized she had very red hair. For a moment, he thought of Ginny, but soon realized, that was not who it was at all.
"Please, not him. Just take me instead! Spare him! Have mercy!"
Another figured appeared, blurred just as the first had been. "There is no need to spill more magical blood than is necessary. Simply step aside and your life will be spared."
The woman's face grew angered. "You monster! I will never let you have my son!"
Now in much better view, a dark cloak spoke. "Very well, then. You shall die just as your husband did."
A tear ran down her face as she stood and shielded what seemed to be nothing behind her on the screen. "I won't let you take my son!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
The blackness around him instantly became bright green, and the screen revealed a new feminine figure.
"No, no, this is all wrong! I must have full custody of all the children. You can't separate them like this. That's not fair at all, to them. And as I said before, Harry isn't fit to care for them!"
A table became visible, and three figures sat around it; the lawyer at the head, Ginny at one side, and the black-cloaked figure at the other.
"There is no need to spill more magical blood than is necessary. Simply hand over the children and your life will be spared."
With defiance in her face, Ginny took the paper and began scribbling her corrections upon it.
"Very well, then. You shall die just as your husband did."
Ginny handed the lawyer the list. "Then this is the final list?" Ginny nodded. "Alright then. I'll need your blood."
"And blood you shall have!" screamed the hooded figure. "Avada Kedavra!"
Two screams rang into the air of complete and utter terror. One, he had heard before in his nightmares many times; the other he could place in a heartbeat.
"Mom! Ginny!"
The hooded figure cackled and everything around Harry went black again. He struggled against whatever restraints kept his arms and legs from moving.
"Ginny!"
With a barely visible distinction, the hooded figure appeared before Harry in the darkness, cackling just as he had before.
"Ginny! Where is Ginny!"
"She cannot save them now. No one can save them. Not even the Boy-Who-Lived."
Harry fell off the side of Sirius's bed, screaming at the top of his lungs with tears running down his face, tangled up in the matted sheets attempting to fight something that was not there.
Once again, Harry had gotten little sleep.
Almost all of summer had passed, and he had yet to learn how to cure his nightmares. He had spent every minute of the last 2 months looking through book after book for something to help him sleep without nightmares. Unfortunately for him, there were no potion books in his possession. Even if there were, it was highly unlikely that he could brew anything he would need correctly. He sighed and picked up the nearest book off the stack and opened it up and began reading. If anything, he hoped the boring textbook would put him to sleep in no time.
With a pop, Soran appeared in the room. Harry gave a jolt.
"For Merlin's sake, Soran…" he held his hand over his chest. "You can't just pop in like that. You'll give me a bloody heart attack."
Soran's big round eyes met Harry's. "Soran is sorry, Master Potter. Soran will go off and punish himself."
"No! That's…that's quite alright, Soran. No need to do that."
His bat-like ears perked up. "Would Master Potter like anything?"
Harry sighed and looked to the window. The blinds were holding back the light the room so eagerly craved to absorb. "Breakfast, I suppose."
Soran bowed low. "As Master Potter wishes." And with a pop, he was gone.
So far, his life had been miserable. Since the time he had moved in, never once had Ginny replied to his request to come and visit. He had sent it through Patronus, so he was sure she got it, but never had he seen even a hint of her horse Patronus. He had given up on that after the first two weeks, and taken instead to attempting to get some sleep. So far, he had been highly unsuccessful, but this was something he could not just give up on, as the problem presented itself every night.
"Here is Master Potter's breakfast!"
"Oh. Thank you, Soran."
Soran once again bowed so his nose touched the floor. "It is my honor, Master Potter," and popped away.
Secretly in his mind, he had been awaiting a certain letter from Hogwarts, but none had come. Inside this house, Harry felt terribly cut off from the world. No wonder his godfather had tried so desperately to get out of here when he could. He wished that he, too, could be able to escape this house without anyone knowing it was him. But even as an animagus, Harry was instantly recognizable to the world.
How he wished to be at Hogwarts again. In the school library, surely he could find something to help him sleep better, maybe even someone to help him do it. But he knew if he ever returned to Hogwarts, he would be a teacher, or merely a visitor. How he wished, with all his heart, to be young again, and explore the deepest secrets of Hogwarts once more…
Magical portraits are a type of sentient artifact, and are common in the Wizarding world. The subjects of portraits are sentient, can speak to and with people on the outside, and they can move into other portraits in the same building, as well as visit their own portraits in other places.
He hadn't realized he had actually been reading something, but now that he had, he was rather interested in what it said. Magical portraits? That was surely something he would like to read about.
The more he thought about it, the more appealing it became. He could have a portrait of someone he loved to talk to. What wouldn't he give to be able to talk to his mother, or his father, or godfather.
He would get one made for them as soon as possible.
Albus sat by the window in the study, looking out at the garden he and his mother used to tend to together. It wasn't that he missed tending to it as much as he missed spending time with his mother.
With no income from Harry, Ginny had no other choice but to get a higher paying job. She became an secretary for the Ministry of Magic (one of many), filing paperwork here and there, showing visitors which way to head, which floor they would want to get off on, and who to talk to for certain things. It paid alright for the time being, as they had some money in the Potter-Weasley vault still. They would make it through.
Lily had taken to reading in a comfy chair in a corner and James, who was not so fond of books, was watching Albus, debating whether he would try to push him away or not if he asked what was wrong. It was worth a shot, wasn't it? Plus, he had vowed to himself to care for his siblings. He couldn't slack off now when they needed him most.
Of all the Potter children, James had been altered the most by the whole ordeal. All summer, James had been all work and no play. He had gotten letters from all his friends, asking him to visit and whatnot, but he ignored them all. He wouldn't admit it, but he was frightened. He had always believed that no matter how many friends come and go, family would always be there. Now that his dad was gone, and willingly too, he wasn't so sure the remainder of his family would stay. What would he do if something happened to his brother or sister? He couldn't bear to think of it. The Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes merchandise underneath his bed had been untouched, as had the Marauder's Map and invisibility cloak. He had grown up much faster than was healthy.
He stood and made his way over to Albus, deciding his brother needed him.
"What'cha looking at, Al?"
"Just the garden."
James looked out, too, and saw the flowers looked wilted and the bushes were beginning to turn brown. "It's starting to dry out."
Albus nodded with a sigh. "Remember how I used to tend to it with Mom? She would pull out the weeds and I would water. She would trim the hedges and I would get rid of any gnomes…" They watched at two gnomes ran across the garden for no particular reason. "I miss Mom being home."
"We all do, Al."
Lily, who had been listening to the conversation since it had broken the silence, now came over. "Well, let's go tend to it now, then. We can't just let it die out. Brown leaves aren't very nice to look at."
With that, they all smiled. They split up the jobs, and all took to them with pride. Albus pulled the weeds, James watered and trimmed, and Lily got rid of the gnomes.
Lily, who was working on outwitting the gnomes, caught them all on a corner and began tossing them out one by one. The last gnome flew into the air until it was over their fence, then promptly fell.
"Good job, Lily. Maybe you'll be as smart as Al."
Lily sighed. "Yeah, maybe in some things, but not all. I'm not very good in Potions."
James chuckled. "You're not the first. Lots of people aren't good at potions. I'm not. Dad wasn't. I don't even think Mom was that talented."
Albus nodded. "It's supposedly a Gryffindor curse. Professor Nott says that Gryffindors are 'too arrogant and too impatient' to do well in Potions. I can barely pull by with an E."
"An E? I can barely get an A." Lily tossed another gnome that had been hiding in the bushes over the fence.
James chuckled, "I usually get a D, but I managed to pull off an A on my O.W.L. How that's possible, I have no idea."
"Oh yeah. You already took your O. -Were they hard?"
James shrugged. "They probably won't be for you. For me, however, they were pretty bad; especially potions. I thought for sure I would get a T."
"Well what N.E. are you taking?"
"I talked to Professor Longbottom. He told me I could take Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, and Divination." He looked to his brother and sister. "I recommend not taking Divination. It may seem like an easy class at first, but you just basically end up making up bad things that will happen and get a good grade for it. It's not really worth your time. I think I'll go with every other N.E.W.T but that one."
Albus nodded. "Good I didn't pick that, then. I decided to take Arithmancy instead."
James pulled a few branches from the hedge and scoffed. "I would fail miserably in that class."
"Well, all the gnomes are gone. For now." Lily dusted herself off.
"Yeah, I've watered all the flowers, and the hedges weren't in need of a big trim."
Albus got up. "Weeds are gone."
James smiled. "Alright. It seems we've finished up here. How about we go inside and…" he thought for a moment, "have a glass of lemonade."
With a big smile revealing stunning white teeth, Lily said, "That sounds perfect."
They all made their way back inside, Albus taking one last look at the recovering garden before stepping inside and following his siblings to the kitchen.
"So you're going to be taking Defense Against the Dark Arts for one of your N.E.W.T classes?"
After pouring Lily a nice glass of lemonade, James looked up. "Yeah."
"Aren't you worried? That class has had a different teacher every year. Nothing in that class is constant. You could be ahead this year, and then behind next year."
Considering this, James put down the pitcher of lemonade that they had made themselves the muggle way (because their father had told them long ago it tasted better). "Well, I suppose. But I think Professor Edson was pretty good."
Yeah," Lily agreed. "Maybe he'll stay another year?"
"There's no way. That job is cursed. It always has been. Even when Mom and Dad went to school."
"It's pretty unlikely that he'll stay."
"You don't think they'll run out of professors, do you?"
"No. Professor Patil is smart. She was a Ravenclaw, afterall. She probably has a long list going on for decades of wizards to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"True."
"Yeah, see? No need to worry." James picked up the pitcher once more and poured his little brother a glass of lemonade. "I'm sure we'll make it just fine. We always have, and we always will."
Albus sipped her drink, finding it quite bitter for his tastes. "It needs more sugar."
James sighed. "Dad always made this best. He never really told us how much of everything to put in." He picked up a spoon and proceeded to shovel more sugar into the pitcher.
They all watched as James stirred the lemonade, all having the same thought. Lily voiced it though the silence.
"It's been a while since we've seen him. Do you think he'll visit sometime?"
Albus put an arm around his sister. "I'm sure he'll be around soon enough. He's probably really busy with a new job, like Mom."
"I hope he's not lonely."
They all stood in silence. The air had grown a bit somber. James put down the spoon and looked to his siblings. "Let's find out."
"Alright, Monsieur Potter. I 'ave yoor portrait ready."
Harry almost stopped breathing in his anticipation. "It's done?"
"One moore spell, and it vill be completed." The painter smiled and turned the canvas around for Harry to see. "It vill need a frame, oui?"
Harry could only stare.
"I 'ave some vonderful framez in my shop. Vould yoo like to purchase one?"
His words had gone to the wind, mouth hanging open in shock.
"Monsieur Potter? Vould yoo like a frame? Monsieur Potter?"
All the air in his lungs left. No, this wasn't…I hadn't asked for…how in Merlin could he…
"Monsieur Potter!"
Harry jumped and his mind finally seemed to form logically phrases once more. "This isn't what I asked for! I asked for my godfather!"
The painter looked to the canvas. "This iz not yoor godfather?"
With an incredulous look, Harry replied, "Not even close! That's…That's Tom Riddle!"
Of all things, the painter looked confused. "Tom Riddle?"
"Yes! Tom Riddle!"
He didn't seem to understand. Something must have gotten lost in their communication. He did have a pretty heavy accent.
"I 'ave painted ze person wrong?" Harry nodded, and the painters face appeared disgusted. "Désastre! Completely affreux!" The painter set off a leash of French words that Harry did not understand.
It didn't seem possible. How in Merlin's pants could someone mistake Sirius Black for Tom Riddle? He stared at the portrait, seeing the familiar young face of the early Voldemort.
"Can you just start over?"
The painter shot him a glare. "Start ohver? No! I cannot zimply start ohver! The painting haz been done! It cannot joos vamoose!"
Harry sighed and rubbed his temples. "Alright, alright. Just…finish it. I'll pay for it." As soon as he could, he would go and find a different painter- someone who would understand the difference between "godfather" and "mortal enemy."
The painter cast a spell and then looked at the painting in silence, simply staring until a voice was heard that rattled Harry's bones.
"I knew I should have asked to be left alone before I died. If I had to suffer through it, might as well leave me there in my own pain instead of showing me the world I can no longer exist in."
With a grumble, Harry put is head into his hands. Just brilliant… He had heard that same voice in his latest nightmare, and probably every nightmare before, as well.
"It iz fini." The painter clapped his hands together, seeming to forget the mishap altogether. "Now for ze payment."
Harry rolled his eyes and pulled out the money. "I can't at least get a discount?"
The painter narrowed his eyes. "I'll zrow in a free frame."
"That's it?"
While he felt insulted, the painter projected this feeling. "You zay zat like it iz not of value. My framez are of pure silver! None ozher!"
"Yes, fine. I'll take the free frame, then."
"Magnifique! Zat will be tventy galleons."
Without any further complaints, Harry handed him the money and the painter left. He didn't understand how exactly this had happened. He had talked to the painter about whom he wanted to paint before the canvas had even been summoned. He had given him a picture and everything. How in hell could he have messed this up? It wasn't possible, in Harry's mind.
Harry looked over to the unusually silent portrait of Tom Riddle that now was leaning against the wall on the floor. The brown eyes had been looking about the room until they had felt Harry's gaze, at which point they slowly turned to meet it. Harry sighed as he noticed that the painter had actually left, not just out of the room, but altogether.
"That painter ripped me off twice. He left without giving me the frame he promised."
Tom, an aloof expression on his face, took to looking around the room again. "I take it, from what information I have gathered in such a little period of existence, that you did not intend to have an enchanted portrait that contained me inside it. I assure you, the feeling of unwanting is mutual. However, now that I am here, I intend to see what has happened since my…" he chose his words carefully, "unfortunate murder."
Harry could have almost laughed. "You're joking, right?"
"Not at all." Tom's face was collected, almost charming. "My death was unsightly. I'm sure the world was highly affected."
"Oh yes, it was. Wizards can actually live in peace now that they don't go to sleep worrying about the life of their loved ones who happened to be muggle-borne."
He narrowed his eyes and looked Harry over. "Do I know you?"
Incredulous, Harry stared at Tom. "Do you know me? Of course you know me! You were obsessed with killing me for half of your life. You killed my parents, friends, professors." Harry lifted up his hair to reveal his scar, "You tried to murder me as a baby, which didn't turn out so well for you."
Tom's lips curled into a malicious smile. "Ah, Harry Potter. What a turn of events to see you once more."
Oh my gosh this is crazy! What will happen next? Tune in next week for another chapter! :)
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