Previously on Defiance...

Kreacher stared incomprehensibly at Harry, who felt a bit uncomfortable at the way those bulgy eyes were staring at him. "Hello, err, Kreacher."

"Yous be the heir of Mistress Dorea?"

Harry nodded uncomfortably.

"Kreacher lives to serve the Ancient and Noble house of Black." Kreacher croaked, "Come with me, young Master. I will show you a room."

Harry turned back at Hermione and replied. "I guess I have a private place I needed."

"But Harry-"

"I will see you later, Hermione."

Hermione couldn't help but stare in confusion (and a little bit of resentment) at Harry's cold attitude. While she knew that Harry had complete right to be a bit angry, it was now affecting her nerves. Most importantly, it was his cold and aloof attitude that had thrown her off. She had expected him to come upstairs, take a deep breath and then begin yelling out all of his anger and resentment out to her and Ron. That was even justified. She could handle such a Harry, for he was quick to forgive. It was one of the very traits, which endeared her to him.

This Harry however, was different. He had not yelled, he had not shouted out his feelings at him. He had tightly stoppered them deep within himself, and for anyone who could see, Harry's anger was like a pressure cooker, just about to release steam but firmly in control by the lid on it. He had not even said one harsh word, though to be honest, his cold attitude hurt deeper than his words would have been. Not that Hermione would mind, it was for the Greater Good after all. The Headmaster had informed her and Ron how contacting Harry would be a security risk, now that Voldemort was back. Why couldn't her best friend understand such a simple thing?

Hermione knew she was smart. She had always been. She had noticed the clenched-teeth expression that Sirius had tried to hide from everyone else. Not from her though, for she had noticed. Every now and then, Sirius had a frown on his face whenever the Headmaster had assigned a new order for them to follow. The older man had been very persistent in trying to convince the Headmaster to bring Harry here, though the Headmaster had cited security reasons and something related to 'blood wards', which had temporarily shut him up. Besides, given how Mrs. Weasley had been prodding up and down, all around the house, ordering everyone to work according her orders for the 'Clean the Black Townhouse' Campaign, not unlike some giant mother-hen (not that Hermione would ever admit it in public), it was almost guaranteed that Sirius Black was going to lose his fuse sooner or later. Hermione wondered what the outcome of the situation would be. She knew that the twins, Ginny and the rest of the Weasley brothers (except Ron, of course) knew that as a fact and knowing the twins, they had perhaps even started betting over it. However, with the surprise attack on Privet Drive and Harry's sudden arrival at this grim old place had shaken things up a bit. It certainly had shaken things up with Harry.

A part of her felt deeply for her best friend. She was happy that Harry was here. She had seen the cold rage in his eyes when their mutual oblivious best friend had outright mentioned how he and Hermione had been there since the beginning of summer. While she was not happy about how Harry was behaving with her and Ron, she was happy that Harry was finally living with his godfather. The poor boy had only one person he could call family, and she was happy that he was finally getting the life he deserved.

But... and there was indeed a 'But'. While it was not commonly known to all, but the Headmaster had actually acknowledged that both Ron and Hermione were vital for the Order, albeit privately. He had mentioned how Harry shared a kind of mental connection with Voldemort, and much more. After all, there was a valid reason why she had consented to providing information about her best friend's mental condition and social behavior to Dumbledore. It had all happened two days after she had arrived at the Black Townhouse.

"Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, please come in." The esteemed Headmaster looked at Mrs. Weasley who had just ushered both of them inside the room. "Molly, thank you for bringing them in. I have something private to discuss with both of them."

"Of course, Headmaster." Molly nodded and walked out of the room briskly, giving one last glance at the two of them. The moment she had deserted the room, the Headmaster took out his wand and whipped it around, as a huge dome of silvery light formed all around them. Noticing the looks on their faces, he hastily explained, "Privacy ward. Wouldn't want someone to eavesdrop, would we?"

Ron gave him an easy-going grin. Hermione looked focused.

"There is a matter of great discretion and importance that I want to share with you. I want you to understand that I am breaking a lot of confidences by bringing you inside the secret. I need to know if you can be trusted with keeping your end of the stick."

"Of course, Professor." Ron stated- his chest pulled up a few inches.

"As you know, the secret group known as the Order of the Phoenix that has been raised to fight against Voldemort and his followers is the last line of defense that Britain has against Voldemort. With the way the Ministry is trying to negate the truth, it is an uphill battle already. I know that both of you are students, no matter how talented, are only that- students. However, desperate situations call for desperate measures, which is why I Albus Dumbledore, want to bring you into the Order of the Phoenix as intelligence gathering members. Of course, if you wish to, in the first place."

Ron looked like a kid who had just been promised his favorite stuffed toy, while Hermione beamed at the Headmaster. "Of course, professor. It is an honor, an honor that you thought us to be of some aid to you, though I wonder what we could possibly-"

Dumbledore raised both of his palms to satiate their eagerness, and continued. "I understand your eagerness, Miss Granger, but I am afraid that you would negate helping me once you know what the matter is."

Hermione looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to decipher what the Headmaster was trying to hint at. He continued, "Both of you have been the best friends that young Harry could dream of, and I am glad that the poor boy has found such great friends as the two of you had been." Ron looked like he had already grown a couple of inches with the statement, though Hermione could not be sure of the statement, what with the way their friendship had suffered because of the misunderstanding on Halloween about Harry's participation of the Triwizard.

"What I am going to reveal must stay within the two of you, for it is an important secret, one which if in wrong hands, could spell disaster for Britain." Dumbledore continued in a slightly lower voice. Understandably, Hermione felt her curiosity piqued.

"What do you know about Harry's scar?"

"It was the place where You-know-who hit him with the killing-" Ron began, but he noticed Hermione glaring daggers at him, and changed track, "—but I will let Hermione explain the rest. She is better with explanations and stuff."

"Thank you, Ron." Hermione's gratitude seemed a little forced, but the Headmaster did not comment. Hermione cleared her throat and continued. "We know that he got the scar from the night at Halloween, though I have read that the killing curse gave him the scar. Though," she hesitated a bit before continuing, "I did read quite a bit about the Unforgivables after Moody, I mean, after Barty Crouch Junior taught us about them, and the killing curse isn't supposed to leave any residue or scar."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly.

"Apart from that, Harry had pains in his scar with Professor Quirrel around in first year, though perhaps that was due to Volde-" Her eyes widened as the revelation shook her. "Professor, are you telling me that his scar reacts because of Voldemort, and now that he is back, it will react more?"

"Very astute, Miss Granger, though I am afraid that is not all." Dumbledore supplied. "That scar contains some magical residue from the dark magic that Voldemort, magic that Voldemort can use to subtly bring about changes in Harry's mental condition and behavior."

Hermione's eyes turned into saucers. "Professor, are you saying that he can manipulate and affect Harry and push him towards the dark?"

"Yes, and No." Dumbledore answered, shaking his head. "Voldemort is very skilled in the mind arts, even much more than I. He can influence him, shift his personality, play with his emotions and drive him towards the dark. He can manipulate Harry to an extent that Harry might consider the two of you as his enemies instead of friends." Ron gasped at the revelation, but Dumbledore continued. "Do you now understand how essential it is that all of this must be kept secret?"

Both of the teens nodded in unison.

Dumbledore now spoke in a cold monotone. "Harry will be brought here some three weeks from now. It is imperative that you do not share any news about the Order or about whatever you are doing with him. We do not have any idea how much Voldemort has branched into his mind. Any information that you provide could be used against us. I hope I made it clear how dangerous the times are?"

Ron looked pale. Hermione swallowed.

"When Harry comes to live in with you, I wish that both of you subtly notice the changes that happen or have happened to him and bring it to my notice. I understand that it will be difficult for the two of you to spy on your best friend, but you must understand that it is for his own good."

Dumbledore paused. He could see them in deep thought.

"Of course, I will see to it that none of your efforts go in vain. I understand and value your contributions for Magical Britain, and I will make sure to try and repay a little part of it back in due time."

Both of the teens nodded.

"I hereby grant you access to my office anytime, Miss Granger and Mister Weasley. As far as the summer is concerned, I will arrange some private meetings so that the two of you can safely inform me about the developments without anyone being the wiser."

Hermione and Ron nodded in unison.

The two best friends had since then, had made brief conversations with Sirius at times, trying to decipher whether he had actually been in touch with Harry keeping everyone else out of the loop, but it seemed that the older man had followed Dumbledore's suggestions and made no contact with his godson. Sure, the man looked like he would like nothing better than to punch Dumbledore in the face at times, but at least he was sensible to follow the rules, which the Headmaster had insisted, for the sake of the Greater Good.

Now... Harry had come to Grimmauld Place, and Dumbledore's words were already fulfilling themselves. It was almost prophetic. His changed behavior. His coldness, his simmering rage held within tight leash, his attitude regarding the two of them. It was almost shocking. If not for the fact that the Headmaster had previously informed them about such possibilities, she was sure that she would have run first thing, reported about the irregularities, and raised suspicion about something being wrong about Harry Potter.

The problem was- she did not know what was scarier. The fact that she knew that Harry was changing, or the true reason behind the change. One thing was clear- to help Harry; she would have to trust the Headmaster's decisions to the Tee. It would hurt her best friend, but it would be for her own good.

Harry got up from the cozy little couch he had been sitting on for the last one hour. The Lord's study was an excellent place; he had to give it to the old elf. No matter how dingy the frontage and the rest of the townhouse was, Regulus's room and the Lord's study were in pristine condition. No one who stayed inside this room could ever believe that the rest of the House was as filthy as it was. For one, the Lord's study came with an inbuilt silencing rune system, preventing noises from outside disturbing the Lord from his business. There was also a powerful blood-based proximity ward and an intent-based protection ward, providing the Lord with a considerable amount of protection when he was inside the room. There was also a time-dilation rune, that slowed down the passage of time by a little bit. Forty minutes in real time was one hour inside the room, Harry mused that it was to enable the Lord to focus on his private business for longer periods. In his excitement at finally getting his hand at such intricate and ancient tomes, he failed to realize that he had not taken up runes in his third year and above, and perhaps more importantly, that he had not even read anything about normal wards, forget their types and their mode of functioning.

The Black magic was different from the standard spells that were taught at Hogwarts. Instead of one or two word long incantations, the ones here were significantly larger and more difficult to ascertain. On the other side, the magics invoked and utilized in these were much more powerful, deadly and archaic than anything he had ever set his eyes upon. He was just reading a powerful offensive spell that was based on illusions when he realized that someone who had previously read the book wrote the Arithmancy behind the spell by hand.

"The third dimensional matrix of the spell can be folded into two spectral forms using Maximo's Rule of multiplicity, but then what about the limitations that the new form would generate?"

"The limitations could be cancelled out if one applied Weiss's interpolation techniques." A very familiar voice answered.

Harry looked up and found Sirius standing at the doorway, holding a tray of food. "Sorry about this," he exclaimed, "Kreacher took some time. He was downright adamant that it was his kitchen and he would prepare food for the heir of Black. It took me quite some time to disburse the impeding battle between Molly and Kreacher over the kitchen."

"It's okay." Harry shrugged, as Sirius entered the room. The wards gave him a slight tinge, telling him that someone of his blood had just entered the premises.

"Did you feel it?"

"The ward? Yes, I did."

Sirius grinned. "I am not sure if I should congratulate you, but the Black family magic has accepted you as the next oncoming Lord of Black."

Harry shrugged.

Sirius walked up to him and looked at the spell. "Illusion-based offensive battle techniques. Aren't we ambitious?"

Harry grinned. "Was just looking at the spells. This one caught my attention."

"I thought you took Divination for your electives. Or at least, that is what Moony told me."

Harry shrugged. "It's one of those things about which I know but I do not know how I know."

Sirius looked perturbed. "What does the mind healer say about this?"

"He thinks that something happened to me when I was hit by the killing curse." Sirius gasped at the statement but did not comment. "Apparently, this might be the very thing. I know things that I should not. I apparently cast a Fidelius and undid my own memories, though for the life of me, I don't understand why or how."

"Perhaps something terrible had happened. Alternatively, perhaps you had done something very special, and did not want anyone, not even yourself to know that you did it. It would make a very good prank though." Sirius gave a marauder-ish grin and Harry laughed.

"Only you, Sirius." His smile faded away. "I cannot complain since it has only made my mind clearer than it ever was. My scar is not paining anymore. My vision is slightly better, though I want to move to wizarding contacts. My glasses are too much of a liability."

"Did you ever have your eyes checked?"

"Unwanted Freak over here, remember?" Harry spoke automatically as Sirius hissed in fury. Instantly, he gripped Sirius's hands and pressed. "It is okay, Sirius. It's over for now."

"No, it's not. You will get the life you deserve to be. First thing tomorrow morning, you and I are going to get some shopping and checkup done on you. Then, we visit Gringotts and you take up the Black lordship. Then, we get some nice splendid meal at some fine restaurant, with a nice bottle of firewhiskey."

"I am underage." Harry pointed out slyly.

"Stop being a spoilsport, godson. "Sirius snapped good-naturedly. "A Lordship demands a real drink. Firewhiskey it is. You should be lucky I am not taking you to a brothel and-"

Harry put his fingers into his ears. "Stop mentally scarring me for life, Sirius."

Sirius smirked.

"Dumbledore isn't going to like it." Harry replied in mock warning.

"The old coot can go fuck with his goats." Sirius declared. "Have your dinner first. Then, we need to talk about something."

Thirty Minutes later...

"So the Order of the Phoenix..." Harry began.

"More like fried chicken." Sirius muttered, and Harry chortled. "Right, so this Order is guarding something. Good to know that it actually does something more than watching me pee at the Dursleys."

Sirius snorted. "How did you know about-wait, Bill told you, didn't he?"

Harry laughed and nodded.

"Yes, Dumbledore has arranged shifts and schedules, and is making 'Order members'", he gestured with his fingers, "—watch the boy wonder at his muggle home. He has also arranged a similar shift at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic."

"Department of Mysteries?"

"Yes, they are secretive bunch. Quite autonomous as far as it goes. The people who work there are known as Unspeakables, and they work on, well... unspeakable things I guess?" Sirius passed a small grin. "James and I used to make lewd jokes about the unspeakable deeds of the Unspeakables."

"What do you think the Order is guarding?"

Sirius hesitated for a moment. "The official word is that they are guarding a weapon. Something that Voldemort wants. Something that he didn't have the last time."

Harry pondered over the statement. His eyes then glanced at Sirius. "What are your thoughts about it?"

Sirius seemed bitter. "It's just a big sack of hippogriff shit. I have seen Voldemort fight. I have fought alongside James and Lily against him. He does not need a weapon. Not then, not now."

"So the word is a metaphor."

"I think so."

"Interesting." Harry pondered over it.

"You have got the same look on your face like Lily did when she was engaged in some deep thought." Sirius commented offhandedly. Harry flushed. It felt good to know that he was like his parents in some way.

"I have a suspicion of what it might be about, though." Sirius suddenly remarked. "Of course, I might be completely wrong."

"Let's hear it."

"During the last war, we all were in the main fight against Voldemort and the Death eaters. Then suddenly, James and Lily went into hiding, and all but forced me to do the same. Frank Longbottom and his wife Alice, you would know their son Neville-" Harry nodded as Sirius continued, "—well we all went into hiding, but it kind of irked me. The way James and Frank both decided to hide, it was almost too strange to be a coincidence. And then, Voldemort attacked the Potters while two days after his death, Bellatrix and her brood attacked the Longbottoms."

"You think that there was some special reason why my dad and Neville's suddenly decided to go into hiding. A special reason why Voldemort was so fixated on killing me. I remember the night." Harry's eyes went glassy. "My dad... he tried to divert Voldemort, allowing mum to escape with me. Voldemort killed him and then went for me. Not Mum, but me. My mum wanted him to spare my life and take hers, but he would not listen. In fact, now that I think about it, it was almost odd." He looked into Sirius' eyes, which were brimming with tears, "My mum was muggleborn and yet the bastard seemed more fixated on killing me than my mum."

Sirius's face was a masterpiece. One single face, demonstrating the wide variety of emotions. There was surprise, shock, hatred, sorrow, vengeance and finally... surprise as the answer presented itself to him. Coincidentally, Harry had reached a similar answer on his own. "What if there was a-" he began, but Sirius cut him off.

"A bloody prophecy!"

Meanwhile in another room,

"Dad, I need to discuss something private with you." Bill declared, attracting the attention of his father, and importantly, his mother. Mrs. Weasley, being the person she was, instantly delved into the topic. "Say it here, Bill. Surely I can listen to whatever is troubling you, can't I?"

Bill flushed, not sure how to divert his mother's attention. He had wanted a one-on-one talk with his father, but things were not going in his favor. Fortunately, his father seemed to understand his predicament and rose. "I suppose it is a male thing, son?"

Bill flushed. He had not expected his dad to understand, and come out with a wonderful way to divert his mother's attention away from them. He nodded briskly, as he saw his mother blush and turn away to talk to Ginny. Arthur walked out of the room and Bill followed swiftly.

The moment he was out of their proximity range, he whispered as a powerful privacy ward materialized like a dome all around them. "Dad, I wanted to ask you about Harry."

Arthur's countenance instantly shifted. "What about him?"

"Did you know that he was ignorant of his heritage?"

For the first time, Bill saw his dad look guilty and sad. "I admit I did. In fact, when he saved Ginny's life in her first year, I wanted to uphold a life debt and help him to learn all about his heritage. It would not fulfill the condition of the debt per se but it would be something."

"So why didn't you?"

Arthur paused, reflecting on the question for a moment. "Dumbledore prevailed on us. He brought it to our notice that Harry already had a lot of things to deal with. He said that learning about his heritage would only bring undue workload on the boy's shoulders, and Molly, well she agreed. You know how your mother feels about children."

Bill gave him a blank stare. "Harry now knows about his heritage. As of now, he is Lord Potter. When we talked about his lack of knowledge about his heritage, he looked bitter. I presume you can well imagine whom his bitterness was directed towards."

"Good Lord," Arthur swore, "he must think that we intentionally kept him in the dark." He looked at Bill with widened, anxious eyes. "I swear to you, Bill, we only did what we did because Dumbledore advised us. Besides, Dumbledore's his guardian and-"

"Not anymore. Harry is Lord Potter and is his own person. Dumbledore holds no sway over him, legally that is; assuming he held one on the first hand."

"But Dumbledore said that he was Harry's magical guardian-"

"Only in matters of Hogwarts. For everything else, including financial matters, Sirius Black was Harry's guardian. After all, he is his godfather."

"Merlin, the boy must think badly of us." Arthur moaned.

"It's not too late", Bill surmised. "I will talk to Harry, but the rest is up to you, Dad."

"Thank you son," Arthur whispered, gripping his son's shoulders, "you have shown me light in the dark. It's moments like this which prove why you are the heir."

Bill grinned.