Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Disclaimer: All JKR's, not mine.
Summary: This is a complete AU- Harry Potter is a 21-year-old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil. Can Harry lead the fight for the light, but yet manage to keep his life together?
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody. Oh, and review again!
S/N: So yeah, now that the "Grimmauld Place arc" is over, you're going to be seeing time skips/jumps like you do in this chapter. I do this because if I didn't, this story would probably be around 50 chapters long…Right now, as it is, the story will pick up with action by chapter 15.
S/N 2: Now, as for Regulus: I had always planned for him to be a portrait in this story, because I felt it added another dimension to the story. In my view, he truly did change before he died, though, like he said, he isn't thrilled with muggles; muggleborns he's okay with, though. Don't worry, Regulus' story is nowhere near finished or done. Oh, and about the amount of galleons: yeah, I hate putting stuff like that in numbers, but it was needed so don't think too much of it.
Chapter 10: Black of another name
The next week passed by in a blur. Sirius, Harry, and Remus had almost completely finished clearing out and cleaning the first and second floor, making them livable enough for Sirius to move out of Harry's flat. They had yet to get to the third and fourth floor, which housed studies, bathrooms, and the master bedroom. Sirius' parents previously used the master bedroom, but, once cleaned, it would be Sirius' own from then on.
"And then he said," Sirius laughed, wiping the tears from his eyes. "That as the last scion of the Blacks, I should learn some proper etiquette, rather than run around eating like a dog!"
"Priceless." Regulus' rasped out between fits of giggles. His eyes flicked over to his brother and Harry, who were both laughing as well. "That Phineas, he's even madder than that wizard who went around screaming that a pixie had stolen his home. Though," He added, tapping his finger against his chin. "I don't quite think he's up to Uric the Oddball's level just yet."
"He's stark raving crazy, that's for sure." Sirius nodded in agreement, a jovial smile still lacing his face.
"Technically," Regulus said from the confiscated frame of a relative who had left to visit a few friends in another portrait he had. "You're not even the last scion of the Blacks; though, I guess he has a point in that you are in name."
"What do you mean?" Sirius questioned, looking up from his cleaning. Harry looked up, too, confused by what Regulus had meant. "I'm the last male Black after you, well, you died."
"In name alone, yes." Regulus agreed. "But, hm, in order to explain it, you'll have to see what I mean. Meet me in the study with the tapestry, I'll kick out that mermaid that's in the frame in there." Shrugging, the pair left the room as Regulus disappeared from the portrait, intent on finding out just what the dead wizard had meant. A minute later they opened up the door to the study, and paced over to the tapestry, both noticing that Regulus had squeezed into the portrait along with the mermaid. "Okay, look up to the names under Phineas…you see his children?"
"Yeah," Sirius said, pointing to the four names and one burn mark. "Sirius his son, then there's the burn mark, then there's Cygnus, then Belvina, and lastly Arcturus—Harry's great-grandfather."
"The burn mark." Regulus replied. "Is a son named Phineas who was disowned for supporting muggle rights. You see?" Regulus smiled, wondering if his brother would understand. "After being disowned, he left the family behind, but didn't just outright die. He changed his last name to Nigel, which means Black in Latin, married his wife, and had a family: one that continues to this day under the name of Nigel."
"The Nigels?" Harry muttered, knowing that name. "You mean Cepheus Nigel is related to the Blacks? Isn't that whole family good friends with the Hitchens'?" Cepheus Nigel was a popular author who wrote in Transfiguration Today, a weekly magazine about the magic of transfiguration.
"Exactly!" Regulus nodded, enthusiastically. "There are actually two different branches of the Nigels: one was started by Phineas, and the other was started by Marius. Sirius look at Cygnus' children, and you'll see another two burn holes; there's Pollux; then Cassiopeia; then a burn hole who is Marius, disowned for being a squib; then there's the burn hole of Cedrella Black, disowned for marrying the 'blood traitor' Septimus Weasley. After Marius was disowned at the tender age of nine, Phineas took him in as his own son—he was his nephew, of course, any loving person would take him in. Well, they marched over to the Ministry and changed their names with the Magical Documentation office. They, of course, changed their last name to Nigel, rather than Black. And the Hitchens," Regulus said, looking over to Harry. "Are the newer pureblood family that was started when Isla Black, a sister of Phineas Nigellus', married muggleborn Bob Hitchens and was disowned; not unlike your future mother-in-law Andromeda, Harry. You can see her burn hole on the same line that Phineas Nigellus' name is on. You know, the one to the right of his name."
"So what, Isla and Bob took in their nephew Phineas when he was disowned, who, in turn, took in Marius?" Sirius questioned, seeing how all the disowned Blacks tended to stick together. His paternal uncle, Alphard Black, had given Sirius his entire estate when Sirius decided to leave the Black family, and, having already been on Walburga's bad side for not hating muggles, he was immediately blasted off the Tapestry.
"Well, no, not quite," Regulus shook his head. "Phineas was around the same age as you were when you were disowned, so they didn't necessarily take him in. Allowed him to live with them and their children, yes, but not in the same way that Phineas took care of Marius."
"How do you know all this? I've never heard it before and I'm older than you, and, you know, still living." Sirius smiled, looking up at his brother.
"Well," Regulus replied, awkwardly. "I took the time to do some research, while the other Blacks just washed their hands clean of them. And you're right, no one else knows about them: or, at least, no Black that I know of. Maybe Andromeda knows, but I doubt it."
Meanwhile, Tonks and her mother Andromeda were working diligently on the wedding plans. They had gotten Canteen's Catering; a witch ran company, whose headquarters were in Diagon Alley that supplied gatherings with house elves that worked for them. They basically catered parties, and set up the food, tables, chairs, etc. The pair had also sent out the invitations: they invited around two hundred people of different standings. There were Harry and Tonks' friends, Ted Tonks' family (the ones who knew about magic), coworkers, bosses, quidditch teammates, and assorted dignitaries such as the Minister of Magic herself, Amelia Bones. Madam Bones, who was once Harry's direct boss, ascended to the title of Minister of Magic just a year ago, when former Minister Fudge had retired. Even though they had begun to plan the wedding—which was only three weeks away—they had still yet to see just where Harry had said it was going to be. The wizard had promised Tonks he would show it to her next weekend, a fact that she couldn't wait for.
"Colin Creevey said he'd be the photographer for free." Andromeda said, sliding into the booth that Tonks was sitting at in The Leaky Cauldron; the pair had stopped for lunch. "Said that if it's Harry Potter, he'd be willing to pay for the chance to be the photographer."
Tonks cocked an eyebrow, rolling her eyes. She remembered Harry telling her one-day about the Creevey brothers—she had only spent one year in Hogwarts with Colin (none with Dennis) and she barely remembered him—but Harry had said the boy paid more attention to him, then he did breathing. "Oh, Merlin, we'll pay, we'll pay!" She laughed, knowing that Harry wouldn't accept having him do it for free. "Too bad he's the best there is, I fear that he'll take more pictures of Harry than he will of the event itself." Andromeda smiled, but stayed silent.
"Yeah, well, Jewkes told us he'll have them ready by next month, so hopefully I won't have to bring it." Harry answered, pouring himself a glass of fire whiskey. Hermione and Viktor were hosting a small get together with friends, because Viktor was leaving for Bulgaria the next day for his team's quidditch practice. Harry had just gotten word for when the English team's practices would start, as well. He, however, wouldn't have to leave, since they lived in England—until he moved into the Potter manor with Nymphadora, that is.
"Seeker or Chaser?" Viktor questioned, sloshing his whiskey around in his snifter glass. His eyes rolled around the room, as they passed by Roger and Lisa, Cedric, Remus, Sirius, Kingsley, and Hermione and Nymphadora who were engaged in a conversation about some-odd thing.
Harry grinned, cracking his neck to the side. "Seeker, I hope. After all, someone has to give you a challenge, eh?"
"And you think that challenger vill be you?" Viktor cocked an eyebrow, a small smile on his face. "I think the Russian team is going to be a good match." Viktor noted. "That new Keeper they have, the one vho just graduated from the Longryu School of magic, is supposedly very good."
"So I've heard." Harry agreed. "I read that the Swedish Ministry finished the stadium a few days ago. We're allowed ten tickets, which is a lot compared to what Brazil offered last World Cup of only five."
"The stadium is bigger this time." Viktor replied, nodding his head. "It's even bigger than the one the British Ministry made eight years ago."
"Yeah," Harry smiled, remembering when he had first met Viktor in the semifinals that year. The two had fought against each other to the bitter end, with Viktor coming out on top slightly. "You know I'm going to beat you this time, right?"
"I'd like to see you try." Viktor mocked, staring Harry down playfully. They're eyes fought for a few seconds, before both bursted out in laughter. They were too good of friends to allow a stupid quidditch game, albeit one for the pride of their respective countries, to get in their way. As the night died down, Harry and Viktor embraced each other like the brothers they thought of themselves as. "I'll make sure to be here back in England early enough for your stag party, vhich is the night before the rehearsal dinner."
"Yeah, Cedric said it's that Thursday night." Harry shrugged, not knowing what they had planned. He hoped they wouldn't force him to do anything too embarrassing. "I'll be seeing you, buddy." Harry said, before throwing down some floo powder and flooing home.
Waking up the next morning, Harry rolled out of bed, jumped into the shower and got dressed, then headed to the Leaky Cauldron, where he was meeting Sirius for a quick breakfast. The meal was a quiet one, each too tired to put together a sentence. Paying their bill, the pair headed into Diagon Alley, walking past all the wonderful and magnificent shops, heading towards one building in particular. A bell from above the door rang, as the two entered. "Harry!" A bubbly witch said from behind a desk.
"Hey, Patricia." Harry smiled at the woman, knowing her from their days at Hogwarts. Patricia Stimpson was a Gryffindor a year above Harry, and a friend of Fred and George Weasley. She was an okay witch, but being from a muggle family, she was a perfect assistant for when it came to wizarding clients of Cedric's who needed to venture out in the muggle world. Plus, she was a hard worker who definitely earned her above average salary. "I didn't expect you to be here. Aren't you usually off on the weekends?"
"Yeah," Patricia nodded happily. "But Terrence has a meeting with a client this morning, so he asked me to come in." Terrence Higgs was Cedric's business partner, and co-owner of their barrister office. He was two years older than Cedric (the same age as Tonks, though she was a Hogwarts year behind), and was a Slytherin when he attended Hogwarts. Being the son of a notable pureblood Ministry Official, Bertie Higgs, he had considerable clout around the wizarding world, which helped Cedric and his work immensely.
"Is Cedric in his office?" Harry questioned, heading towards Cedric's door. Seeing Patricia nod a yes, he smiled at her and waved, knocking softly on Cedric's door before entering. "Ceddy boy."
"Potty Wotty." Cedric replied distractedly, as he threw away a few pieces of paper. Spinning around in his chair to face Harry and Sirius, he gestured for them to take the two seats across from him. "Sirius, we're going to have to come up with a name for you."
"Definitely." Harry agreed, cocking an eyebrow at his godfather. "Sirius is a good name and all, but…it just doesn't end with a y." He put his finger up to his chin, pretending as if it were a great dilemma that needed solving. "Let's see, working off your nickname from my father's time, we could call you Paddy. Although, being British, you might not like the Irish connotations."
Sirius laughed, rolling his eyes. "You guys are the strangest group of wizards I have ever seen."
"So then, since you had no objections, Paddy it is." Cedric muttered, writing something down on his desk. "That is a binding verbal contract, just so you know." He flashed Sirius a grin, laughing as the man shook his head in amusement. "Anyway, we have good and bad news, Harry. The good news is that I've pushed through the paperwork for the building, so we're ready to go. The bad news is, however, that she wants, after converting it from muggle pounds, one hundred and two thousand galleons. Divide that by two, and we're looking at fifty-one thousand galleons a piece."
"Divide it by three." Harry corrected, pointing to Sirius. "He wants in, too."
"Divided by three…" Cedric said, punching in a few numbers. His face lost its gloom as he looked up at the pair. "Thirty-four thousand galleons even."
"Oof." Harry murmured, cringing. He closed his eyes, calculating the money in his Gringotts vaults. It was a large some of money, that was for certain, but it wasn't insurmountable. He had two vaults in Gringotts: one was the vault his parents set up for him, which he used for day-to-day money (his Hit Wizarding galleons went to this vault); the other was a purely business vault, where most of his gold earnings from the various businesses was stored.
"Can you afford it?" Sirius asked, uneasily, watching as Harry thought about it with his eyes closed. "Because, if you can't, I mean I don't want to step on your toes, but I could loan you…"
Harry nodded, and looked up. "What? Oh, yeah, I can, I was just seeing if I would have to tap into my Potter vault, rather than just my business vault." He cocked an eyebrow at Sirius when he registered what the man had said. "Loan me? You can afford it as well, I presume?" Sirius nodded, his eyes flicking over to Cedric.
"So we're all game, then?" Cedric questioned. Harry and Sirius both agreed, which made Cedric write a few words on a contract, and push it off to the side of his desk. "Now, since all the tenants are wizards, I was thinking we could charge them twenty-five galleons as the monthly rate. I'm pretty sure all of them are ministry workers, so they can afford it."
"Sounds reasonable." Harry noted, knowing that single ministry workers could afford it. Most ministry workers made over a hundred galleons a month, with the more dangerous and prestigious jobs—like Aurors, Department Heads, and Hitwizards—making close to a thousand galleons a month. After all, the starting salary for Hit Wizards was seven hundred galleons a month.
"Good." Cedric whispered, taking a quill and signing the bottom of a contract. He placed all the paper work that was in front of him off to the side; he leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk with his hands behind his head. "Did you see this week's issue of Witch Weekly? I got the first one off the stand when I was coming into the office today."
"No," Harry shook his head. "Why? What's it say?" Cedric grinned, reaching into his bag and taking out the magazine. Tossing it over to Harry, he watched as the man rolled his eyes once he saw the cover. It was of Harry on his broomstick, flying towards the reader, stopping on a dime and levitating in midair, flashing the reader—mostly teenage girls, and middle-aged women—a dazzling, confident smile, before zooming off on his broom. The action repeated itself over and over, as if it were on a never-ending loop, which, as a matter of fact, it was. Turning to the page with the story about Harry being a married man, he grimaced as he began to read it.
Bachelor no more?
Witch Weekly is sorry to say that Harry Potter, Britain's number one most eligible bachelor on our list, is no longer a bachelor. The famous wizard plans to marry long time girlfriend Nymphadora Tonks within the month. This star-studded affair will host prominent wizards from around the country, including the Minster of Magic herself. Potter's best man, we have heard, will be none other than former Tri-Wizard cup champion, and number nine on our list of eligible wizards this past year, Cedric Diggory. Nymphadora Tonks, a petite Auror, is descended from the Black family through her mother. She is, ironically, a cousin of recently freed Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather. Harry, twenty-one, met Nymphadora, twenty-six, after the English win in the championship match of the 1998 Quidditch World Cup.
He closed the magazine quickly, passing it over to Sirius to read. "So, since I'm not an 'eligible bachelor' anymore, I guess that means you're number eight, huh?" Harry laughed at Cedric. Cedric threw a crumpled piece of paper at him, hitting him square in the face. Harry laughed, and flicked his wand out, sending the paper straight back at him. "Shall we go get the gold transferred, then?"
Later that night, Sirius was in one of the libraries in Grimmauld Place. He had a quill in his hand, a piece of parchment in front of him, and a bottle of ink placed on the desk he was sitting at. Regulus was watching him from the portrait of the mermaid, cocking an eyebrow down at his brother. Finally, after a few minutes, Sirius looked up, smiling. He paced over to the window, where an eagle owl was waiting, hooting every so often. Latching the rolled up parchment onto the owl's leg, Sirius followed the owl with his eyes as the bird flew off, delivering the message the man had just written. "Think they'll answer?" Sirius questioned, turning around.
Regulus shrugged, not really knowing. "Maybe." He said after a moment's silence.