Chapter 4: Secrets and Surprises
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't sue me hr Harry was walking about in the garden. He had been with the Grangers for a week now. He had learned quite a lot about them. He was strangely observing while near them. Mr. Granger for example was kind, helping, and a bit overprotective. Mrs. Granger was well organized, warm, kind, and awfully worrying. 'They are the perfect family.' He thought, a bit bitterly. He had recently learned that Hermione had a sister. A four year-old little girl, who was supposed to come home from her granny's house tomorrow. He and Hermione were going to Diagon Alley with some members of the Order at the same time. Somehow they had managed to avoid any sensitive subjects of conversation. They were almost finished with their summer homework and were beginning to get bored. A sudden movement at his feel startled him; Crookshanks was rubbing itself against him. He picked him up and sat down on a porch - the same one he almost broke a week ago. He sat there, absentmindedly stroking Crookshanks. He was thinking about the Marauders. What irony, that Peter would be the last one to live. He had never been a true marauder. Harry hated him. No. Despised would be the word, loathed maybe. He was a pitiful creature, but Harry didn't have any pity for him anymore. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden pop of someone aparrating - Dumbledore was sitting next to him on the porch. 'Hello, Harry.' He said with a wink and a smile. ' Hello, professor.' Harry was looking at him with a strange expression of mixed anger and guilt. Remembering his 'little' outburst in Dumbledore's office earlier that summer, he blushed. He didn't fail to notice that the usual twinkle was gone from the professor's eyes. He was there to tell him something,... again. Dumbledore still had secrets from him – about him. He didn't know how, but he just knew that he was hiding something from him - something very important. 'Here comes the rage again.' He thought angrily. Didn't he know better than to hold secrets from him? The last he did that someone died. Worse than someone, Sirius died. 'Harry, I can hear that.' Dumbledore said quite sternly. Harry stared at him with wide eyes, a billion thoughts racing through his head. 'What? Why? But most importantly – how? Before he had a chance to ask Dumbledore spoke again. ' And now you want to know how I did that, don't you?' He sounded a bit amused; he even had a faint twinkle in his eyes again. Harry's mouth fell open. Dumbledore was a legilimens, but surely no one was that powerful. He didn't see any memories; he didn't feel anyone else inside his thoughts. 'Harry, I have many important things to tell you, and this is not the place for it. I have a portkey with me, it will take us to the proper place.' Dumbledore sounded calm and very serious. 'How do I know that you are really professor Dumbledore?' Harry asked, suddenly feeling suspicious. He had unpleasant experiences with portkeys. Dumbledore had apparently been expecting that because he didn't seem surprised at all, instead, he answered calmly: 'Your patronus takes the form of a stag – your father. Sirius was your godfather, he died a month ago.' He finished with an expecting look. Harry just nodded, he felt depressed; he hadn't had a night's sleep without seeing Sirius or Lupin in his dreams. Dumbledore handed him a fake wand that quickly turned into a rubber haddock when he touched it. Dumledore touched it too and began counting- three... two... one. Harry felt a familiar tug behind his navel. Everything swirled around him for a moment, when it stopped he was standing it the middle of the hall at Grimmauld Place. Memories flooded his brain; Sirius singing at Christmas, Sirius talking to him about his father, laughing about his childhood at Hogwarts with Remus. He felt like he was going to be sick; his head was spinning and he felt nauseous. His brain faintly registered that Dumbledore was leading him to the second floor study. He asked him to sit down and he did. Dumledore began to speak with a calm and even voice. 'I have two things to tell you. First, Sirius' and Remus' wills. Second, all the weird magical things that have been happening around you since you turned 16.' Harry nodded, feeling quite speechless. Dumbledore took an object from a shelf near the table. It looked like a pensieve but smaller and with slightly different runes. 'All members of the Order are obliged to leave a will before joining, this is Sirius' will.' Harry nodded, a bit fearful; why would Dumbledore want him to see it. 'Harry, please take out your wand and tap against the mos moris pensieves. The will will not open unless the obsignators are present. Dumbledore took his wand and tapped against it. Harry did the same and the mos moris pensieves glowed blue for a moment. Harry gasped when he saw Sirius' transparent form appearing - life size- from it. He began to speak with a sad voice. 'Hello to all! Dumbledore, Harry, Remus; if you are watching it, then I must be dead, bad, bad. So... about my possessions. My house I leave to Harry, he will get it when he is of age. Until that, It'll be Remus'. My money is to be shared between Harry and Remus; two thirds to Harry and the rest to Remus. There is some junk with sentimental value on the attic, which I will leave to Harry. My motorbike goes to Harry too. Buckbeak is for Hagrid. And don't wallow Harry, It's not healthy.' He began to fade, he turned to grayish mist in seconds. Harry just stared. He felt immense sadness, he wanted to cry but he couldn't, shouldn't and wouldn't. Dumbledore took an other mos moris pensieves off a shelf and tapped against it, so did Harry. Lupin didn't have much possessions, mostly just books. He left them all to Harry, who just watched numbly. After Lupin's last words Dumbledore put the pensieves back to the shelf and took something from under the table. He placed it between himself and Harry and sat down. The object was covered with red velvet, lined with gold. He didn't take the cloth off; he just stared at Harry. When Harry looked at him he began to talk. 'Have you ever wondered about your biological heredity?' Harry shook his head and Dumbledore continued. 'You certainly know where your parents died?' Harry answered with a breaking voice, ' Godric's Hollow.' 'Yes, Godric Griffindor. The last known heir of Griffindor lived 250 years ago-he died young. The man was quite a show-off. He had a different girl every month. He didn't have an heir. We have reasons to believe that he had a child though. A child he didn't actually want. That child was born to Janine Potter. I believe her son is related to you.' Harry's head was spinning, there was just too much information. Was he really an heir of Griffindor? 'You have seen Griffindor's sword – you killed the basilisk with it. The sword can recognize an heir, but not before he/she has reached adulthood. In the olden days it was the age of sixteen.' He pulled the cloth off of the object on the table; it was the sword of Griffindor. He pushed the sword across the table to Harry. He looked at it for a moment. It was decorated with rubies and Godric Griffindor was encored to it. He touched the sword and felt a tingle of power go through him. He closed his eyes; when he looked at he sword again it was different. On one side of the sword was encored Godric Griffindor and on the other side...
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't sue me hr Harry was walking about in the garden. He had been with the Grangers for a week now. He had learned quite a lot about them. He was strangely observing while near them. Mr. Granger for example was kind, helping, and a bit overprotective. Mrs. Granger was well organized, warm, kind, and awfully worrying. 'They are the perfect family.' He thought, a bit bitterly. He had recently learned that Hermione had a sister. A four year-old little girl, who was supposed to come home from her granny's house tomorrow. He and Hermione were going to Diagon Alley with some members of the Order at the same time. Somehow they had managed to avoid any sensitive subjects of conversation. They were almost finished with their summer homework and were beginning to get bored. A sudden movement at his feel startled him; Crookshanks was rubbing itself against him. He picked him up and sat down on a porch - the same one he almost broke a week ago. He sat there, absentmindedly stroking Crookshanks. He was thinking about the Marauders. What irony, that Peter would be the last one to live. He had never been a true marauder. Harry hated him. No. Despised would be the word, loathed maybe. He was a pitiful creature, but Harry didn't have any pity for him anymore. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden pop of someone aparrating - Dumbledore was sitting next to him on the porch. 'Hello, Harry.' He said with a wink and a smile. ' Hello, professor.' Harry was looking at him with a strange expression of mixed anger and guilt. Remembering his 'little' outburst in Dumbledore's office earlier that summer, he blushed. He didn't fail to notice that the usual twinkle was gone from the professor's eyes. He was there to tell him something,... again. Dumbledore still had secrets from him – about him. He didn't know how, but he just knew that he was hiding something from him - something very important. 'Here comes the rage again.' He thought angrily. Didn't he know better than to hold secrets from him? The last he did that someone died. Worse than someone, Sirius died. 'Harry, I can hear that.' Dumbledore said quite sternly. Harry stared at him with wide eyes, a billion thoughts racing through his head. 'What? Why? But most importantly – how? Before he had a chance to ask Dumbledore spoke again. ' And now you want to know how I did that, don't you?' He sounded a bit amused; he even had a faint twinkle in his eyes again. Harry's mouth fell open. Dumbledore was a legilimens, but surely no one was that powerful. He didn't see any memories; he didn't feel anyone else inside his thoughts. 'Harry, I have many important things to tell you, and this is not the place for it. I have a portkey with me, it will take us to the proper place.' Dumbledore sounded calm and very serious. 'How do I know that you are really professor Dumbledore?' Harry asked, suddenly feeling suspicious. He had unpleasant experiences with portkeys. Dumbledore had apparently been expecting that because he didn't seem surprised at all, instead, he answered calmly: 'Your patronus takes the form of a stag – your father. Sirius was your godfather, he died a month ago.' He finished with an expecting look. Harry just nodded, he felt depressed; he hadn't had a night's sleep without seeing Sirius or Lupin in his dreams. Dumbledore handed him a fake wand that quickly turned into a rubber haddock when he touched it. Dumledore touched it too and began counting- three... two... one. Harry felt a familiar tug behind his navel. Everything swirled around him for a moment, when it stopped he was standing it the middle of the hall at Grimmauld Place. Memories flooded his brain; Sirius singing at Christmas, Sirius talking to him about his father, laughing about his childhood at Hogwarts with Remus. He felt like he was going to be sick; his head was spinning and he felt nauseous. His brain faintly registered that Dumbledore was leading him to the second floor study. He asked him to sit down and he did. Dumledore began to speak with a calm and even voice. 'I have two things to tell you. First, Sirius' and Remus' wills. Second, all the weird magical things that have been happening around you since you turned 16.' Harry nodded, feeling quite speechless. Dumbledore took an object from a shelf near the table. It looked like a pensieve but smaller and with slightly different runes. 'All members of the Order are obliged to leave a will before joining, this is Sirius' will.' Harry nodded, a bit fearful; why would Dumbledore want him to see it. 'Harry, please take out your wand and tap against the mos moris pensieves. The will will not open unless the obsignators are present. Dumbledore took his wand and tapped against it. Harry did the same and the mos moris pensieves glowed blue for a moment. Harry gasped when he saw Sirius' transparent form appearing - life size- from it. He began to speak with a sad voice. 'Hello to all! Dumbledore, Harry, Remus; if you are watching it, then I must be dead, bad, bad. So... about my possessions. My house I leave to Harry, he will get it when he is of age. Until that, It'll be Remus'. My money is to be shared between Harry and Remus; two thirds to Harry and the rest to Remus. There is some junk with sentimental value on the attic, which I will leave to Harry. My motorbike goes to Harry too. Buckbeak is for Hagrid. And don't wallow Harry, It's not healthy.' He began to fade, he turned to grayish mist in seconds. Harry just stared. He felt immense sadness, he wanted to cry but he couldn't, shouldn't and wouldn't. Dumbledore took an other mos moris pensieves off a shelf and tapped against it, so did Harry. Lupin didn't have much possessions, mostly just books. He left them all to Harry, who just watched numbly. After Lupin's last words Dumbledore put the pensieves back to the shelf and took something from under the table. He placed it between himself and Harry and sat down. The object was covered with red velvet, lined with gold. He didn't take the cloth off; he just stared at Harry. When Harry looked at him he began to talk. 'Have you ever wondered about your biological heredity?' Harry shook his head and Dumbledore continued. 'You certainly know where your parents died?' Harry answered with a breaking voice, ' Godric's Hollow.' 'Yes, Godric Griffindor. The last known heir of Griffindor lived 250 years ago-he died young. The man was quite a show-off. He had a different girl every month. He didn't have an heir. We have reasons to believe that he had a child though. A child he didn't actually want. That child was born to Janine Potter. I believe her son is related to you.' Harry's head was spinning, there was just too much information. Was he really an heir of Griffindor? 'You have seen Griffindor's sword – you killed the basilisk with it. The sword can recognize an heir, but not before he/she has reached adulthood. In the olden days it was the age of sixteen.' He pulled the cloth off of the object on the table; it was the sword of Griffindor. He pushed the sword across the table to Harry. He looked at it for a moment. It was decorated with rubies and Godric Griffindor was encored to it. He touched the sword and felt a tingle of power go through him. He closed his eyes; when he looked at he sword again it was different. On one side of the sword was encored Godric Griffindor and on the other side...