I do not own Harry Potter

Chapter Ten – The First Day of Forever

Finally, that night, Harry lay down in his new bed, completely and utterly exhausted. He was more mentally and emotionally tired than anything else. It was just strange. The whole thing was strange. If he stopped to think, he wondered if he ought to be grateful, or sceptical, or nervous, or wary, or happy. But he didn't have time to really do that. He was just constantly struck by the oddity of it all.

He had always thought that the day someone offered him some sort of escape from the Dursleys would be a good day.

But, as he kept on saying, it wasn't. It was just odd.

Maia Black had been a long-standing semi-enemy throughout his time at Hogwarts. Now he was living with her and her family, and she was calling him 'Cousin Harry'. And she was actually being nice about it, or at least, she was trying to be, which he thought counted for quite a bit. 'Nice' was not a word or a personality trait which Maia Black seemed to cultivate or admire – at least not in public.

And he was living with her family. Who had been introduced to him as a bunch of Death Eaters! Yet, there was nothing Death-Eaterish about Mrs. Black, least of all that she was a muggle! And Professor Black was unfriendly, and intimidating, but remained very much as she had while at Hogwarts, civil but aloof. And he was reassured by the fact he had personally witness her declare her eternal opposition to Voldemort...

And, suddenly, he had a Godfather who was happy to tell him everything he could about his family.

He could hear about them. The photograph album from Hagrid had, for years, been the closest he could get to them. That album now had pride of place on his new bookshelf. And he was grateful for the album – always would be – but now he could hear the stories behind the pictures. And it was nice, to have that link, and that feeling of family. It was a feeling he had never got from the Dursleys, in all the years he had spent there.

But it wasn't just the people who were odd, it was the house and the way they lived.

He hadn't realised, for example, that people still dressed for dinner.

And ate with solid silver spoons.

Which they had all used rather slowly – without saying anything, of course – so that he could follow them properly through the ridiculous array of cutlery throughout the table.

Why did people need a special knife to eat fish?

And it was odd that they treated all of this as if it were completely normal, and couldn't imagine anything else.

Sirius had pulled faces at him, when the women weren't looking. It had been nice, actually. There was a camaraderie behind it that had made him feel like a child, a wanted child.

But even before dinner, when Maia had shown him around the house, had been like nothing he could have imagined before. Just the sheer scale of the land, the amount of it, was ridiculous. He just kept thinking 'why'? Why would anyone want or need all of this? And Maia had apologised that they couldn't offer more. Apparently, and she had said this in a tone which strongly indicated that she didn't want to talk about it, the house she had grown up in had been of far grander proportions, but they had down-sized after Marius Black had died.

Down-sized.

Still, here there were orchards and a lake, and field upon field that he couldn't wait to soar over on his Firebolt, if he was allowed, and ever got over this all-consuming sense of weirdness.

That was the thought he clung to as he rolled over, closed his eyes, and let his tired brain finally drift off to sleep.

...

Harry was pleased to discover that he wasn't expected to 'dress' for breakfast, and that he wasn't supposed to cook it either. Caroline had also very politely told him that he didn't need to clear away the plates. Maia had looked at him like he'd gone mad, and as though she'd never seen anyone do such a thing at a dining table before.

Then he realised that she probably hadn't, and decided not to think about it. He added to the list of weird, but not exactly bad, things that he was discovering at Black Rose House.

So, after than minor faux pas, and after summoning up his Gryffindor courage to talk before addressed at the table, Harry asked if they knew what had happened to Professor Lupin. Professor Black's face took on a very vicious look, but before she could answer, Mrs. Black told him that they were currently hiding Remus at another house they owned in London, and that he was perfectly safe from the Ministry. Apparently they could visit him if Harry wanted to. H said yes, and tried not to look at Professor Black as he did so.

Just as he was wondering what he was going to do with his day without chores – perhaps he could take his Firebolt out, or talk to Sirius some more, or actually do his homework – Professor Black cut through his musings.

"Your school reports were both owled to me this morning, and I want you to both come to the library as soon as you've finished breakfast. I think we all need to have a very serious discussion."

Harry's heart sank.

Firstly, he hadn't realised that school reports were sent out, but then it didn't surprise him. The Dursleys had probably burned them before even opening the letters.

And secondly, Bla- Cousin Maia would be fine. She studied almost as much as Hermione, which meant he'd been here for less than twenty four hours and Professor Black was already cross with him.

...

The library at Black Rose House was not as big as Hogwarts, but was decorated in a far more luxurious manner. Harry wondered if Hermione knew about this place, and imagined how jealous she would be if she did. Rather thanhaving a number of study tables like Howarts, this library had one large and ornate mahogany table in the middle of the room, with bookcases lining the walls around it. A chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. There were a few armchairs as well, dotted here and there, for more relaxed reading.

When Harry and Maia walked in, Cassiopeia was seated at the table, and indicated for them to sit opposite her. She said nothing until they had sat down properly.

"I should begin, firstly, by saying that I am not angry, I am merely disappointed." She paused and turned to Harry, "Mr. Potter... Cousin Harry, I do not direct this towards you. We shall address your studies from a clean slate, as the muggles say, and as long as you diligently apply yourself in the future, I shall not comment on the past. You are, after all, of the House of Potter, not Black, and I cannot make orders of you, only offer guidance." She then turned to Maia, "Maia, however, does not have that luxury. You are aware of my expectations, are you not?"

Harry frowned at the pale look on Maia's face as she nodded, "I am aware, Aunt Cassiopeia."

"Good, I had wondered if you had forgotten. Let us consider this year to have been an accident, due to stress, we shall say, and that next year, you will resume the grades which are expected of you."

"Yes, Aunt Cassiopeia."

"Very good. Here." She placed a piece of parchment in front of them both.

Harry glanced down to look at his own.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am writing to inform you of your exam results for the academic year 1993-1994.

Pass Grades: O – Outstanding, E – Exceeds Expectations, A – Acceptable.

Fail Grades: P – Poor, D – Dreadful, T – Troll.

Results

Astronomy, A

Charms, E

Herbology, E

History of Magic, A

Potions, A

Transfiguration, E

Defence Against The Dark Arts, O

Care of Magical Creatures, O

Divination, A

I am delighted to inform you that you placed first in Gryffindor for the following class:

Defence Against The Dark Arts

I am delighted to inform you that you placed first in your year group for the following class:

Defence Against the Dark Arts

Yours sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.

Feeling really rather happy, and not quite able to still the curiosity in his belly, he also stole a look at the parchment in front of Maia.

Dear Miss. Black,

I am writing to inform you of your exam results for the academic year 1993-1994.

Pass Grades: O – Outstanding, E – Exceeds Expectations, A – Acceptable.

Fail Grades: P – Poor, D – Dreadful, T – Troll.

Results

Astronomy, O

Charms, O

Herbology, O

History of Magic, O

Potions, O

Transfiguration, A

Defence Against The Dark Arts, E

Arithmancy, A

Ancient Runes, O

Muggle Studies, O

I am delighted to inform you that you placed first in Slytherin for the following classes:

Astronomy, Herbology, Potions, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies

I am delighted to inform you that you placed first in your year group for the following classes:

Potions.

Yours sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.

He gulped when he started to realise just how high Professor Black's expectations were. He was also surprised that someone must have actually beaten Hermione in a test, though Bla-Cousin Maia did have the advantage that Snape clearly didn't loathe her as he loathed Hermione.

Cassiopeia stood up and began to pull a series of books from the shelves. Harry leant over and whispered, "I think you did really well."

She looked at him for a moment, with an odd expression on her face. "A Black is never merely 'acceptable'."

He nodded, "Sorry."

She shook her head. "It's not your fault, I should have worked harder."

Cassiopeia turned back to them, placing a stack of books down on the table. "Maia, we shall be concentrating of your Transfiguration and Arithmacy this summer, and the rest of your studies to a lesser extent. I also want you to go back over your Latin, as well as your French now, as it may improve your understanding of spells and your casting." She waved her wand, and a timetable and study plan with reading lists appeared on the table. Maia looked at it and blinked. It was rather a lot. Cassiopeia sniffed, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Maia dipped her head, "Yes, Aunt Cassiopeia." She pulled the books towards her and began to sort through them and study.

Cassiopeia then turned to Harry, "I believe we should concentrate on your Potions and History of Magic. We can cover Divination if you wish, but unless you have some natural magical ability in that area, there really is no point in studying it. Dumbledore really ought to vet students for Seer ability before allowing onto the course, but as that Trelawny woman is teaching it..." she paused and drew herself up, "Yes, well. We shan't talk about that. I was also going to suggest that you learn French, as it may come in useful soon. However, in the long term, you should also learn at least rudimentary Latin and Gobbledegook."

Harry looked back down at his school report and scanned over the grades, "Can I do extra Defence Against the Dark Arts as well?"

"I don't know, can you?"

Harry saw Maia smirk out of the corner of his eye. "I mean, please may I do extra Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"I believe that may be advantageous."

Maia looked up, "May I study extra Potions?"

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were doing that in your free time?"

Maia blushed, "Yes... well, I wouldn't mind doing it here as well, during lessons. And I'm still teaching myself Gaelic."

"You will follow the study plan assigned to you during your lessons. Acceptability is only one step up from mediocrity, and from that ruin."

"Yes, Aunt Cassiopeia."

...

Over the next few days, Harry realised that holidays at Black Rose House were both at once very much like school, but on the other, the best holidays ever. They had to study from nine to four every day, with a break for lunch, and Aunt Cassiopeia, as he was now supposed to call her, made them work extremely hard. However, he found that he enjoyed it. He did at least an hour of DADA every day, and Aunt Cassiopeia was also giving them both duelling lessons. So far, Cousin Maia had only gotten the better of him once. She knew more spells, and had caught him off guard with some rather unpleasant hexes, but his reactions, both magical and physical, were much faster.

He had also discovered that when it extended beyond Binns droning on and on about Goblin Wars, History of Magic was rather interesting. Not exactly exciting, but interesting enough to keep his attention for an hour or two. And who was he to turn down the chance to do extra magic outside of school? It certainly beat having his wand locked away, and apparently there was no chance of the Ministry finding out.

Aunt Cassiopeia had been rather affronted by the suggestion:

"This Ministry does not interfere with the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, not when we helped to found it!"

His afternoons were spent playing Quidditch with Sirius, and sometimes Maia when she wasn't visiting her Slytherin friends, usually Malfoy, but apparently Tracey Davis lived nearby as well. Overall, things were good, and he now had Top Box seats to the Quidditch World Cup, tomorrow he was going to Diagon Alley, Hermione was feeling better, and he had just sent a letter to Ron trying to explain all of it to him without him thinking that he had lost the plot.

...

The next morning at the Burrow...

Ron Weasley sat at the breakfast table, piling bacon and eggs on to the top of his toast. He wondered if he just kept eating whether he would be able to get out of de-gnoming the garden.

His father drank the last dregs of his tea, and stood to kiss their mother goodbye, when a snowy white owl flew through the kitchen window and landed in front of him.

"Harry's written!"

Mrs. Weasley smiled, "Good, I was worried when you hadn't heard from him. I don't like to think of him all alone with those muggles. Make sure you invite him here soon."

"Thanks mum, but what about the World Cup?"

She shook her head, "Tell he can come with us. Actually, tell him he can come with us. He can have my ticket. It doesn't look like Bill's going to turn up now – though I do wish he could at least write. But there you go. And Merlin knows Harry'll enjoy it more than I will, and the poor dear ought to have something good happen to him."

Mr. Weasley kissed her forehead, and she smiled back at him.

Ron quickly pulled off the letter and began to read... "Merlin's flaming, frolicking pants!"

Mr. Weasley looked over, visibly perturbed, "Is everything alright? Is Harry alright?"

Ron glanced up from the letter, his eyes wide. "Yes... No... Oh, here, you read it."

Mr. Weasley's eyebrows rose further and further up towards his receding hairline, and Mrs. Weasley could finally take it no longer and snatched the letter from her husband's hands.

Dear Ron,

How are you? I'm sorry I've not written this week, but, it's all been a bit crazy. I'm not sure how to tell you what's happened, but I guess I'll just have to try and write it all out, and hope you don't think that I've lost it.

I've left the Dursleys, although this time I didn't run away. Sirius came to get me. I still have to stay there for the start of every summer holiday – I don't really get why, but Dumbledore says so, so it must be important – but for the rest of the time I get to stay with him now. See, that sounds fine, it's now that it gets a bit weird.

Sirius is living with his family. Apparently, the Healers at St. Mungos didn't want him staying on his own, and he wanted to stay with Maia for obvious reasons, so he's living with the rest of the Blacks. Living with Sirius is brilliant. He tells me all about mum and dad. He said to say he's sorry for losing you your rat, and that he'll replace it if your parents don't mind. Also, I've got news of our favourite furry friend to tell you, so don't worry on that head.

Maia's mum (adopted mum? I don't know anymore?) is great as well. She's really old, so is more like a grandmother than anything, and she's trying to fatten me up, but she's really nice. Professor Black lives with them too, and she's, well, she hasn't changed one bit since we last saw her. I didn't realise this, but did you know Malfoy's lot all have to study over the holidays? Well, apparently it depends on the parents, but Professor Black makes Maia study every day. Our school reports came the day after I got here, and we've had to have lessons from nine to four every day since then. My brain hurts. I'll tell you about it soon. We have to try and meet up.

I've not seen Malfoy. Maia goes over to their manor house when she wants to see him. I think she's being diplomatic. She's not that bad. I mean, she's not exactly friendly, but she's alright, I guess. Actually, sometimes I think she's being friendly and I don't notice. She and Professor Black seem a bit strange like that. Though I'm meant to call them 'Aunt Cassiopeia' and 'Cousin Maia' now. Well, they haven't said that I have to, but that's how they introduced themselves. Again, I think it's an example of overly formal kindness which I don't quite get.

We went and visited Hermione together. She's doing a lot better, although she she doesn't want you to get a rat. I think she's developed something of a hatred towards all of them. The Healers have said she'll be out in three days. And she said that she's going to the World Cup with your family, is that right? If that's true, then we're all going to be in the Top Box together. The Minister gave the Blacks tickets and Maia, her mum and Sirius are all going. Apparently Mrs. Black – though she says to call her Caroline – doesn't actually like Quidditch, but she didn't want to miss out on something as big as this. Professor Black turned them down. She's got better things to do that make nice to Fudge, apparently. I should warn you and your family though that the Malfoys are going to be there with us.

Anyway, write back soon. I really haven't lost it and I really am fine. Apart from the studies. I've never had to work this hard. Imagine if every class at Hogwarts was taught by Professor Black, and then you'll understand.

See you soon,

Harry.

...