A/N: Thanks as always to my brilliant Beta, Mylady Phoenix.
Jean CH 10, Transitions
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Minutes before the Grangers' happy reunion, Hermione was being consoled by the least likely person any Hogwarts alumni would believe capable of such a feat (well, besides a certain potions professor) when they were interrupted.
Minerva glanced up to find a tired looking young Auror standing in the doorway. Steeling herself for what might be terrible news, she turned to her charge.
"Hermione, I need to tend to something – please excuse me for a minute." The older woman's voice faltered as she could see the fear in the girl's eyes. Obviously Hermione had seen the source of the interruption, and the uniform would certainly give her already overworked imagination a fresh source of anxiety.
"I'll be right back," the professor tried to comfort, yet she already knew she had failed. Standing reluctantly, she approached the disheveled young man, noting as she entered the hall that the auror had a bandaged arm and looked exhausted. He began speaking right away as he held out what Minerva knew was the remote sensor to the wards. It would give no details, only an alert that something was happening.
"It's the wards, in the command room, something is active but I don't have the ward-map and I was only supposed to be on relief for an hour and-"
Realizing that of those in the house, only Sirius would be able to interpret what the Auror was talking about, Minerva knew she had to act quickly. The Professor, who had in fact taught this young Auror in school just three years ago, did something she had never done to him before: She took his hands in hers, interrupting his tirade. "Mr. Trelin, Theodore, is it not?" Barely giving the young man time to register her words, Minerva pushed on. "Theodore, we must find Lord Black. You start in the kitchen to check the status board and I will send a messenger spell. We'll meet in the command room, alright? Now go."
Theodore moved quickly down the hall towards the kitchen while the Deputy Headmistress was already whispering her spell. The young auror had barely rounded the corner when a wisp of magic passed him, turning deeper into the house.
"What is it? What happened - is it my father?" Hermione's strained voice came from the doorway.
Turning, Minerva presented the girl with her most hopeful expression, "We don't know. It's an alert, but I was not part of the ward setup. I've alerted Lord Black, he should be on his way now. I promise not to keep anything from you, alright?"
At first the old teacher thought her practical, yet hopeful approach had stemmed the terror she could see in the young woman's eyes. Then something totally unexpected happened: Hermione launched herself forward, wrapping Minerva in tight hug. Stifling a sob, the girl held on for a few seconds before Minerva wrapped her own arms gently around the small frame pressed against her. McGonagall knew she needed to move, to find Sirius; yet the young woman in her arms seemed unwilling to let go.
It was a long minute before she felt the sobs die down. Hermione stepped back, head down, her mess of curls obscuring her face. "Go ahead. I'll stay here," she spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper.
The old professor hadn't made it down the hall before she heard a man's voice call out Hermione's name, well, "Jean". It was the girls answering call that rang through the house and made her heart leap with joy.
Hermione's father had returned!
.o0o.
Meanwhile, minutes before Mr. Granger's return, Theodore Treslin was making his way downstairs towards the kitchen for some tea. He had the 'remote' alert for the sensors in his pocket.
Sirius sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea as muted conversations buzzed around him in the expanded kitchen. A hearty breakfast was being dished out by a tired looking young woman he did not recognize.
His head shot up, but nobody else could have had heard what he had: the remote ward alarm had pinged. Other than those who were looking at him at that moment, there was no clue as to his actions. They had little to go on for the next moment Sirius had disappeared, leaving those in the kitchen stunned and concerned even as Theodore made his way towards the ever-ready teapot on the stove, only to be interrupted by the device buzzing in his hand.
. . .
Sirius appeared instantly in his command center, Regulus' old room, which was spread with maps, charts, lists and – most importantly – a large section of wall covered in small lights.
The light status varied from dark to steady, some brighter than others. One flashed red.
It was the sensor ward at the Grangers' burnt out home: someone had used magic there.
Arithmancy was hardly the young Lord's specialty, yet he had taken great pains to learn it so he could tutor his godson. Although Bill and Filius had done most of the on site casting to build the large magical panel, the hours studying the complex subject had turned out to be invaluable in setting up this network of wards, alerts and sensors.
Pouring his focus into the runes which lit up at his command, it took a few moments for Sirius to understand the complex magical information. Finally, he worked out that not just one, but many spells had been cast at the site of the destroyed, but still monitored, 'place of interest'.
At least one of spells was identified as dark magic - and the wizard realized that the missing Mr. Granger might have returned to his home, only to get ambushed!
Snapping off an alert to the Order's duty desk, Sirius keyed himself into the Grangers' wards and disappeared with a crack.
The wisp of McGonagall's spell sped around the corner only a second later, then faded as its target was no longer in range.
.o0o.
Lucius Malfoy stood blinking his eyes in disbelief – again. He had barely arrived a small distance from the mudblood's home when he had seen the proximity wards. It took some time to carefully manipulate the magic to allow him to see inside without alerting the caster. Finally he peered into the seam he'd created and almost growled in his frustration.
The wealthiest member of the Dark Lord's inner-circle had watched as the thrice-cursed traitor Snape had disappeared, with a wanted muggle no less.
The blonde pureblood had been tasked to observe Severus by his Master, who seemed to not trust anyone. Idly, Lucius wondered who was watching him.
Dismissing the wards once Snape had disappeared, he had moved – disillusioned and silenced – into the area recently vacated. Malfoy Sr. quickly uncovered the body that his fellow Death Eater had buried. It was a cleverly done double of the man Severus had disapparated with. Even as the wheels were still turning on that information the scene was interrupted by the crack of apparition.
Lucius Malfoy was far from a powerful wizard, and certainly no top notch duelist. But he was quick, and with the advantage of surprise from his concealment he had turned and blasted the newcomer off his feet as soon as he had registered that they were not in Death Eater robes.
So it was that Lucius now stood blinking his eyes in disbelief again. Disbelief at his incredible good fortune, for he stood over the unconscious form of none other than Sirius Black.
Knowing he had only moments before the scene would be flooded with Aurors, Malfoy stunned the downed man (it never paid to assume), disarmed him and disapparated with his prize even as the Aurors began popping in to surround the perimeter of the now empty property.
.o0o.
Harry Potter was exhausted. The wizarding wireless was now into it's sixth hour of repeating the same stories, without any new information. He glanced around the common room and saw a single pair of bleary eyes return his gaze. Half a dozen students were asleep on couches, most had returned to their beds hours ago.
He moved quietly to the exit, and was out and moving down the hallway before his friend could start to argue or insist upon coming along. While Harry normally did not mind the boy's company, he knew that he had to be alone for this particular adventure.
Harry had learned the secret passages with years of practice and, of course, the ultimate cheat-sheet: the Marauder's Map. He didn't have the map this morning, but he was confident in his abilities; he made his way along a winding path, sometimes doubling back on a stair case or ducking into a seemingly random classroom until he was certain he was not being followed. The early hour insured there were no other student roaming the halls.
Though it was tiring to his already numb mind and body, he slowly and stealthily moved through the castle towards his goal. The end result was exactly as planned: He left the castle unnoticed by anyone. The young wizard was still exhausted, but adrenaline fueled his actions – actions which he knew were rash and sure to get him into trouble.
He didn't care about any of that as he slipped up the stairs from the basement of the Three Broomsticks. While he could hear Madam Rosmerta working in the kitchen, he was still early enough to avoid the breakfast crowd. Tossing a sickle onto the mantle, the dark haired boy flipped some floo powder into the fireplace.
"Grimmauld Place," he called out clearly, his words muffled by a privacy spell, then stepped forward and disappeared in a flash and swirl of green smoke.
.o0o.
Lucius knew something was wrong the moment he arrived in his, that is, the Dark Lord's grand ballroom. The man calling himself Lord Voldemort was speaking in a low, deadly tone that had everyone in the room cringing.
Standing in front of their returned Master was one of the Malfoy lord's greatest rivals: Bellatrix Lestrange. Sure enough, Lucius' instincts were correct, as the normally subservient Bella was ignoring her Lord's direct command to kneel. Instead she stood, shaking life a leaf, a dozen feet in front of 'Voldemort's' throne-like seat.
Deciding that Bella must be paralyzed with fear over her failures of the previous night, Lucius recognized an opportunity: If he saved Bella from her due punishment then she would owe him.
Lucius did what he smugly knew only he, the traitor Snape, and Bella herself were allowed: approach the Voldemort pretender without being specifically bid to do so. His timing might just distract the Dark Lord from the murderous witch, who, while certainly not sane, was at least usually more self-controlled. Having his psychotic sister-in-law in his debt, even to a small degree, was a prospect the Slytherin in him looked forward to gloating over.
With a few quick flicks of his wand the (former) Lord of the manor was marching forward with a still groggy Sirius Black in his thrall. He held Lord Black's own wand against his back as he stepped forward, gaining the Dark Lord's attention.
That's when he heard the madwoman's whimpers turn into an uncharacteristically clear voice. "I have a message for you my Lord," Bellatrix choked out, and Lucius winced at the formality so unlike her normal simpering adoration.
Turning, the wizard paused in shock as he saw the beginnings of some form of magical energy begin to seep from the witch. He realized then that Bella wasn't shaking in fear, she was straining under the effects of some kind of spell. Was this some new torture the Dark Lord had devised? His musings were interrupted as Bella spoke once more, though again her voice was abnormal… this time her voice didn't even sound like her own.
The hackles on Lucius Malfoy's neck were standing the second he recognized that hated voice – a voice that Bellatrix Lestrange would never emulate: The voice of Albus Dumbledore.
The senior Malfoy shook himself internally, his face a careful mask. It was not actually the Headmaster's voice, but Bella's words rang with the old Mage's exact cadence and maddeningly-calm tone as she spoke, reciting: "If you are in fact Tom Riddle, I will continue defeating you until you cannot return."
For the third time in a scant few minutes, Lucius Malfoy stood blinking his eyes in disbelief: Could Bella actually be saying that? The witch began to shake violently. The energies radiating from her body surged and then seemed to collapse back into Bella even as she screamed in horrific agony – Lucius assumed that their Master had silently Crucio'd his crazed follower - no other source of pain could rival the Dark Lord's torture curse...
Then all hell broke loose. He barely registered a strong grip on his arm as he felt his family wards activated... even as the world exploded around him.
.o0o.
The shock wave rocked Draco out of his bed, and before he could even acknowledge that he was on the floor, he found himself outside, on the dew-wet grass, behind his mother. He vaguely noted the popping noise of house elves as they brought a few more people to the same location. A very few more people.
He smelled it before he saw it. His ears apparently weren't quite alert yet because he could not hear the Western wing of Malfoy Manor crash down, but he could feel the impact as the whole second and third floors collapsed into the flames. He didn't hear himself take a shuddering breath at watching the shocking scene unfold before him.
The first thing he did hear was his mother's sob as she called his name in relief even as she grabbed him in a crushing hug. He was too stunned to be embarrassed.
Between the wards, the protective charms and the house elves, only the Western wing was lost. The wing where the Dark Lord resided. Where Draco's father 'worked'.
When Draco finally spoke, nobody answered.
It didn't stop him from repeating the question, though: "Where's my father?"
.o0o.
Grimmauld Place had gone from chaos at Harry's appearance to a subdued vigil for the missing Lord of the house within minutes. Those minutes had one major event which turned everything upside down.
Harry had been standing in the barely open kitchen doorway trying to unobtrusively get Tonk's attention when there was a sharp *crack* behind him and Harry fell into the kitchen in surprise. Well, so much for unobtrusive.
Turning away from the surprisingly large number of faces staring at him, Harry diverted his attention – and anger – at who had destroyed his careful plan.
It was Kreacher who had appeared, the ancient house-elf was looking solemnly at Harry as he bowed so low his long nose and floppy ears both touched the floor.
"Does the new Master Black have orders, sir?"
Harry's head whipped back up to the collection of shocked faces, willing the adults to not show the same confusion as he felt, wanting answers; wanting, but finding only shock, confusion and fear mirroring his own.
.o0o.
It took Harry hours to piece it all together. He had spoken to several people around the house and discovered that Sirius had gone to help find the muggle father of one of the refugees.
Now, as he was sitting purposely apart from the others in the kitchen, he could only wait for news. His body was strangely energized, his exhaustion seemingly wiped away to be replaced by a shocked anticipation. Word had been sent to Dumbledore and Harry had pinned all of his hope on the Headmaster clearing this up. He had even considered - and quickly discarded - the possibility of Sirius pulling a Marauder scale prank on him.
It was all a misunderstanding. There had to be a mistake.
Yet he knew there was no mistake. How could he deny the truth when his own magic was on fire? Harry could feel the magic of the House, the ancient curses and powerful wards, there was no denying that Sirius had named him his heir. They'd even blood bonded last summer. 'The last hope for House Black' Sirius had mused after he had discovered that he was cursed by his own mother.
Harry's head was splitting with a headache that the potion Molly had forced him to take had only dulled for a few minutes. With no sleep the night before and the terrifying reports of murder for hours, Harry was ready to collapse but he could not - he could feel the strange magic coursing through his body and he needed the Headmaster to explain what it all meant.
He supposed that the household magic was binding itself to him. He was terrified that he was attuning to the famously dark magic of the Blacks as well. Looking around at the various strangers he saw no one who could give him answers. Instead of any source of support he only saw questions and calculating stares – when people would meet his eyes at all.
Harry grit his teeth as the whispers continued around him. He knew that Sirius was gone. The various 'what if' and 'maybe' theories that were being bandied about made him want to scream. He almost did scream. Yet admitting what he knew out loud would be the end of Sirius. The end of his family. He held on to his last shred of hope: Dumbledore. Dumbledore would know what to do. He would find his Godfather and correct this mistake and make things right.
The young student started rocking in place, his eyes clamped shut. A subtle vibration began throughout the house, which had dozens of people looking around wide eyed, and then the disturbance stopped as Harry's head shot up, eyes fixed on the kitchen floo.
The fire flared green and the Headmaster stepped wearily into the hushed room. The old mage quickly engaged in a quiet but intense conversation with Professor McGonagall. Harry idly mused that the old Transfiguration professor seemed to always know when Dumbledore would arrive, and his thoughts further strayed to wondering where she had been all this time. He knew better than to interrupt the pair's conversation, especially when he was this close to the edge of his self control already. One 'all in good time, my boy' from the Headmaster and Harry would probably start throwing hexes.
'Nasty hexes' a voice affirmed in the back of his mind. Harry grimaced, 'Where had That come from?' he wondered worriedly.
The two aged teachers stood by the massive status board, but kept glancing over to him; the entry for "Lord Black" was simply blank.
Harry knew in his heart that his last hope was gone. 'Fine', he thought, forcing all else from his mind, he resolved to have done with it.
He stood and asked a simple question: "I thought the fighting was over, so, why did he leave?"
The several dozen people around him shrunk back instinctively. Harry's question may have been simple, but his tone was menacing and harsh. He alone did not hear the resonating power it contained.
Minerva looked away from Albus, her eyes wide as she tried to form a response to the obviously distraught student. Unfortunately a young auror spoke up before she could find the right words.
"He, well, Lord Black got an alert on the wards at the Granger house, the girl's father was missing. But he turned up," the young man finished, his voice hollow and flat.
"He turned up?" Harry repeated, incredulously. The auror winced as he shrank back from the boy's furious gaze and strangely powerful voice. Dumbledore seemed startled from his study of the status board and peered at the young man. Harry was visibly shaking and it seemed that he was only standing because he was leaning against the ancient, dark wood of the kitchen wall.
The Hogwarts student turned his glare back to his teachers, anger plain in his tone and bearing. Ancient prejudices and blood purity hatred tainted the magic now coursing through the exhausted young wizard. "This muggle goes for a stroll and Sirius gets killed trying to save him?" Harry's question had turned into a shout, an accusation that he leveled at the two in the far corner only to have Minerva avert her eyes. The Headmaster met Harry's burning gaze with one of deep sorrow and something snapped in the young man's heart.
"I want them out. As Lord of this house I refuse for them to stay here another moment!"
There was a ripple of magic and a series of small cracks were heard from elsewhere in the large house.
McGonagall looked horrified while Dumbledore just stared wide-eyed at the young man standing in the opposite corner, as if a fighter squared off in a boxing match. Harry's fists were clenched, his eyes wild, the teen's body shaking with rage.
The headmaster took a small step forward, his hands wide in supplication. "Harry, please, what has happened is terrible, but the young woman and her father were not to blame. Sirius wanted to help them – is this how you honor the goodness of his heart?"
If the young man heard the last question he gave no indication. His mind had locked onto something the Headmaster had said early in his statement. "What has happened." Harry spit out, a statement, not a question. Whispers of magic coursed through his body, old magic demanding an answer for the loss of its Lord.
Squaring his narrow frame, standing at his full, yet rather unimpressive height, a muggle might have mistaken Harry for a petulant teen. The magic beginning to radiate from him, though, was as intimidating to most of those gathered as if Harry were a hulking brute. "You know what happened to Sirius," he stated with such menace that the young auror actually began to reach for his wand in reflex.
"Would you all excuse us, please? Harry and I have something private to discuss." The words were so calmly stated, so delicate that many didn't respond at first. Then in ones and twos the expanded kitchen slowly emptied of all but the Headmaster and his Deputy, standing opposite a young man quivering in barely suppressed rage under his school robes.
.o0o.
Hermione Granger had not let go of her father's hand for the last several hours. He had told her that he would need to speak with the master of the house in private when he returned. She wasn't letting go until she had to.
Which turned out to be much more sudden than she could imagine.
The young witch heard shouting from downstairs and then there was a popping noise. Hermione barely had time to register that a small creature was gripping her arm and then she was on the sidewalk.
Two seconds and two small popping noises later and her father was staring bewildered back at her, another series of pops and the small trunk Sirius had given her were next to the duffel bag that her father was using for his meager possessions.
They had been dumped on the sidewalk!
.o0o.
Well that didn't turn out at all like I had thought it would. No, really, Harry is not cooperating with me at all; his character has really taken off in a whole different direction than when I started this story. We'll have to look into why that is over the next few chapters, so he'll be sharing the spotlight a bit more with our heroine. Don't be too hard on the lad, his world has been turned upside down and he's rather 'under the influence' just now.
This chapter's recommendation is one of the most intense and devotedly H/Hr fics I've ever read.
Fpyearsofrebellion's Harry Potter and the Last Horcrux
This chapter would not be as good without help from my fellow authors Frutality & James Spookie, my sis Thirst4light, and a special thanks to my wife, Diana.
A special thank you to Tellur, EmilyWoods, beege, nikyta, archaicwords, almega, Wulffe, zookster, and Noble Korhedron for your reviews of chapter 9!
Blessings,
Majerus