Wow, I love reading your responses of my story, thanks so much! It means a lot.
If Harry Potter belonged to me, I'd be with Warner Brothers and own Bugs Bunny... sigh which I don't.
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Chapter Three: Black House Bequeathed
"Thank you for riding the Knight Bus. We're glad to be in your service and deliver you to your preferred destination," Stan Shunpike called out to Harry and Tonks as they exited the towering purple bus. As the doors swung shut, Harry heard Stan turn to Ernie, "Third time, that is! I would 'ave never dreamed of it... 'Arry Potter on our bus, three times nonetheless!"
The sight of the twisted stories that made the Burrow made Harry's downfallen spirits he felt all summer rise slightly. Being away from magic as long as he was almost made him appreciate everything in the wizarding world a little bit more. There was a group of people waiting outside for them and as he got closer Harry could make out Mad-Eye Moody, Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ron. Mrs. Weasley got to him first, gamboling her way over fast and smothering him with kisses on his cheeks when she reached him.
"Oh, Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley chirped as she grabbed Hedwig's cage.
"Give him some air, mum," Ron's voice came from behind her. Ron's flaming red hair hung just over his eyes looking as if it was due for a good haircut. His cheeks were tinted with a slight sunburned look and if it was even possible, he looked a bit taller than last year. He gave Harry an understanding smile and Harry gave a halfhearted grin back.
"We've missed you so much, Harry," Hermione said as she hugged him tightly. Her long brown hair was as bushy and fly-a-way as ever but she had seemed to grow into herself a little more than the previous years. She smiled comfortingly as she moved out of his way to the Burrow.
"It's good seeing you again," said Lupin as he clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder, as well as Moody who grumbled, "Glad to have you back with us."
They continued to greet him warmly as he slowly made his way to the Weasley's door. Mundungus tipped his head with a scruffy grin as he shook his hand, as so did Mr. Weasley.
Finally he found himself in the homey living room of the Burrow. Tonks set his belongings by the foot of the stairs. Ginny leapt down from them and smiled brightly at Harry. Soon, he was ushered to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley set a glass of lemonade in front of him as he sat at the table.
They all sat down, clustered around him as Mrs. Weasley set out sandwiches for lunch. Ron and Hermione sat in front of him grinning while Mr. Weasley amused everyone with what kind of charms wizards placed on Muggle artifacts he had to deal with at work.
"... and if you thought the uncontrollable clapping gloves was ridiculous, I received an owl to control a toaster that would pop out endless pieces of toast. It took a good quarter of an hour to finally work out the charm the family's sons set on it, but in the end there was toast for about a year's worth of breakfast. Fascinating how the toaster works, but Molly would have a fit if I brought one home..."
They continued speaking good-humoredly about nothing in particular. Harry sat and listened and was grateful no one asked him much or put him on the spot. Lunch passed in a blur. He hadn't had such a welcoming time in weeks, and as Mrs. Weasley was collecting empty plates, Mr. Weasley stood up.
"Ron, Hermione, Ginny... it'd be best if we left Harry with the Order for a few minutes," Mr. Weasley suggested, which was more like a subtle command, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left with the three. By their faces, he could tell that they were disappointed they couldn't stay and hear, and with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with them, it was near impossible they could use Extendible Ears.
The door closed and Lupin and Moody grabbed chairs closer to Harry. Mundungus sat at the far end of the table, twiddling with his pipe as if tempted to smoke it, and Tonks stood in the corner.
Harry knew earlier the friendly conversations wouldn't continue for long and he was right when he saw the look of business on each of their faces. Moody had drawn out a packet of papers from his trench coat but held them in his lap.
"Harry, I suppose Tonks told you about our situation with the Order's headquarters?" Moody said in his usual gruff voice.
Tonks stepped forward, "Just scratched the surface, Alastor. The Knight Bus got here faster than I thought." Lupin let out a sigh and ran his hand through his blonde-graying hair.
"Where's the rest of the Order," Harry asked as he scratched his neck nervously, "If you can't use the headquarters I mean."
"Out," Moody said simply and Harry left it at that. Lupin leaned a bit closer on the table across from Harry and gave him an impassive look as he sighed.
"There's no use waiting to tell you any later. Number 12, Grimmauld's Place," Lupin started, "has been unavailable to us since June. It has sealed itself up so no one can ever enter it again. At first, we were stumped and knew finding a new headquarters would be very difficult. We learned at last the house has an old generation charm set inside to where once the last true descendant of the Black ancestry has passed, the House of Black will seal itself up for eternity. Sirius," Lupin paused, "knew months before of this and rationally thought that if something was to happen to him... he would find a loophole in the spell so the Black House could still usable. He did, in fact, find a loophole by creating a will. Sirius found out a member of the Black family could in fact create a will passing the house to another, thus breaking the spell. "
"This is where you come in, Harry," Lupin said quietly, "Sirius designed a will which he gave to Dumbledore months ago bequeathing the entire house and its belongings to you. Everything Sirius had under his name now belongs to you."
Harry's mind froze. No, he couldn't have. Sirius didn't owe me anything, Harry thought immediately and he was surprised they were going to even try to get him to sign. This was why they waited so long to get him. To be sure he had recovered from Sirius's death, and then to suddenly bring him in with warm welcomes, making sure he was having a good time when he arrived so he would sign the will without argument.
"No." said Harry, finally getting his mouth to speak for him, "No, I don't want it."
"Harry," Moody said sternly, his magical eye on the paperwork, "Think reasonably."
"No," Harry said again bluntly, and he realized he was on his feet, "I don't need anything from Sirius! I don't want anything of his." Harry said loudly, surprised he even said his name.
"Think of the Order, Harry," Tonks spoke up, "We need the Black House for the Order. It's too dangerous to find someplace elsewhere."
"You can sign the will, Harry, and break the charm. You'll be helping the Order." Moody added lastly.
Harry gripped the table as the will was pushed toward him. He stared hard at it until they turned to Mundungus who muttered something with the unlit pipe in his mouth.
"What, Dung?" Tonks said.
"The hippogriff," Mundungus said gruffly, "It's been stuck in there ever since, hasn't it?"
Harry sat back down. As much as he didn't want to deal with the Black House ever again, he was handed a quill and hesitated before signing his name roughly. The dusty sunlight from the kitchen windows shined on the will as the letters of his name turned gold, then burned itself into the parchment. It was official.
"I don't want it," Harry said glumly in the silence, "Let the Order keep it and do whatever they want with it like you said, I don't want it." He repeated and then weakly added, "Make sure someone checks up on Buckbeak every once in a while."
"Of course," Lupin said softly.
"Well, it would be best if we didn't stay any longer here now that that's settled. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have been too generous. I'll inform them," Moody said as he hobbled out with Tonks and Mundungus following.
Harry sat still at the table staring at the quill. Good job, you did the right thing, Harry, he thought sarcastically, Now everything in that house is yours. His mother's portrait, Kreacher... Harry clenched his teeth.
"Harry," Lupin said, breaking Harry away from his thoughts. He sat beside Harry now in the empty kitchen as loud cracks were heard in the other room as the Order disapparated, "I know what you're thinking."
"No you don't," Harry said automatically.
"Well," Lupin said, "I can try. I can understand why you don't want anything in that will, or any part of it. None of us liked to push that on you, Harry, but we've become desperate and these are desperate times. We couldn't have stayed at the Burrow for our meetings, and Dumbledore has been looking for other secret places but they have become slim. It's hard to hide from the public, the media, Voldemort and his supporters all at the same time. The entire Order is really going to appreciate what you've done once they've heard. It was a good, but hard choice, Harry, but listen," Lupin said as Harry scoffed.
"If the Order needs it so badly, why did he leave the house to me, huh? I can't do anything with the damn house and you know that, Sirius knew that---" Harry snapped when Lupin said softly.
"There's more to that house that what most have seen, Harry. Sirius didn't leave that house under your name for nothing."
Lupin stopped at that, stood up towards the door, and gave Harry one more thoughtful look. He disappeared behind the door, and as he sat there a moment longer, he heard him crack and disapparate just like the rest.
"Don't bother with that yet, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as Harry lifted his trunk by the stairs a few minutes later. Harry didn't bother to ask why and headed straight for the stairs to Ron's room.
It was a long walk up, longer than Harry remembered and his feet felt like lead as his climbed each step. The usual bangs from Fred and George's room were gone as he passed, now that they had their own place in Diagon Alley. Harry kept thinking about his signature burned into the will; it felt like it had burned into his own brain. He couldn't stop thinking about it, wishing he hadn't signed although he knew he had no way of escaping it. The Black house deserved to be locked up forever.
The door creaked awkwardly as Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked up to see him. Pigwidgeon hopped happily on the windowsill as Crookshanks watched curiously below. Hedwig looked annoyed with Pig's constant twittering as she preened her feathers. Ron sat up after lying on his bed throwing Crookshank's toy ball and Hermione was sitting on Ron's trunk with Ginny sitting at her feet.
"Hey," Ron said finally as Harry sat on the foot of his bed. He responded with a weak, "Hey," back.
Harry knew what they were waiting for and explained the situation to the three about the Black house and the will, Ron not bothering to kick Ginny out. He told them of him receiving everything and Ron interrupted him.
"But why would, er, Sirius," Ron uttered his name uncomfortably, "leave you that house anyway? He hated it himself."
"Dunno," Harry said glumly, "Lupin said there's more to it."
"Of course, there must be," Hermione figured out loud, "Sirius must have left something in that house for you. Otherwise he might as well left the house to Dumbledore."
"Didn't Lupin tell you what it was?" Ginny spoke finally.
"No," Harry said. Whatever it was, if what Lupin said was true, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to go back there to look for it. It could be anything, or perhaps nothing. He couldn't think of anything the house of Black, the horrible household for the lineage of generally pureblood Dark wizards, had hidden for him.
There was an uneasy silence for a moment before Hermione piped up, "So what did you score on your O.W.L.s, Harry?" Ron groaned loudly.
"I failed two of them," Harry muttered.
"Oh, Harry, I mean the ones you passed," Hermione badgered.
"Above an A, five," Harry said and Hermione smiled, the only one eager enough to talk about scores.
"I got eight... an A for Ancient Runes which really isn't all that bad. Did I tell you? Well, it's not bad, just not what I wished I could have got. I knew that when I mistranslated ezwah that---" Hermione rambled.
Ron interrupted, "Will you give it a rest, Hermione? She's been talking about O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T. classes nonstop. For now, I don't really give a---"
"You just don't want to discuss it because your mother got upset with you," Hermione shot back and Ron turned red.
"It's not all that bad. Not as bad as Fred and George..." Ron started but Hermione butt in.
"He passed four above an A," Hermione blurted and Ron shot her a nasty look, "Well, it's not the best you could do, Ron, and I told you to study more! Besides, you only failed two like Harry..." She finished but she was still grimacing with the fact that they actually failed exams.
"Three," Ron corrected her glumly. Ginny giggled and Ron snapped, "You won't be laughing when you take the exams this year." But Ginny was laughing at Pigwidgeon who had spotted a flock of birds fly by in the distance and tried to fly through the window to follow it. Pig fell down dizzily on the floor as Crookshanks sniffed him.
"I wonder how Buckbeak is doing," Hermione thought out loud as she watched the flock fly away. "I'd like to see him, and it would be a good idea to set him free. There's no use anymore to keep him cooped up in that house."
"Yeah," Harry said quietly but knew he would hate to see him go. Ginny scooped Pig into her hands and Ron gave Pig a pathetic look.
"He doesn't seem to grow," Ron shook his head. "He can't deliver letters either. I sent you a bunch, mate, but Pig must have misdelivered them."
Harry didn't say anything as he thought of all the unanswered letters Ron and Hermione sent him in his trunk. He saw Hermione purse her lips to say something but didn't. Harry knew she knew better and that Pig could deliver just fine.
"I got your gifts from Errol, though," Harry said abruptly, "Thanks."
"Yeah, I'm surprised he made it all the way too," Ron muttered.
"I read about, well, Percy---" Harry started.
"Yeah," Ron said darkly, "The git finally came back here. Not much of an apology though. He made up a bunch of rubbish how the Ministry had assumed long ago that You-Know-Who might be out there regaining his followers and powers but they wanted to keep 'any information or predictions of this until they were completely confident that he had returned.'" Ron said in a mocking tone as Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Of course," Ron continued, "that doesn't explain why they had to call Dumbledore a delusional, batty old fool or you an attention-seeking, glory hog--- no offence, Harry," Ron added quickly.
"None taken," Harry said with a half-smirk and Ginny spoke up.
"But that's only what Percy said. We all know the Ministry didn't believe a word of Voldemort's return" (Ron shuddered) "only until a few months ago, but Percy wanted to get on good terms again with Mum and Dad. I doubt he'll ever admit the Ministry was wrong, or himself at least," Ginny said coldly. She obviously still hadn't forgiven him.
"Mum took him back right after he apologized for the Ministry's 'rash actions'. She cried a good bit but Dad's still cold with him. Both of them know of course that what he said was rubbish too. Mum didn't care but Dad knows that Percy will jump to whatever the Ministry believes next. I'd like to see what he'd do if the Ministry told everyone to jump off a cliff---" Ron said but Hermione cut him off.
"Anyway, hopefully they'll stay on our side, but who knows how many Death Eaters work at the Ministry. I guess it all depends on the new Minister of Magic---"
"They've exchanged Fudge?" Harry asked suddenly.
"Naturally, Harry," Hermione explained, "Just the other day he was voted out for not reporting V-Voldemort's rise back to power, along with some other officials. Oh Ron, get over it. Ginny and I have," Hermione snapped as Ron winced at his name. "It was all over the Daily Prophet yesterday that they will be voting in a new Minister soon. Dumbledore is the most popular choice but as we know, he won't take it. I heard from Moody that their first choice might just be temporary. Haven't you been reading the Daily Prophet?" Hermione asked, but Harry shook his head.
"Are the Death Eaters still in Azkaban?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, but they won't be in for long. The dementors could have kept them in but they're back with Voldemort, and all they have to do is plan a mass breakout again," Ron said.
They were quiet as they thought of this. Harry knew they all understood it was coming, the rise of the dark side and the climax of Voldemort's powers. It would get worse and the attacks would begin, just like it had years before. Harry wondered painfully where in his life would he be like if Voldemort had died the night he tried to kill him, if hadn't just lost his powers. Harry's stomach lurched and his insides burned. Neither can live while the other survives...
"You all right, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly. He realized he was clutching the side of Ron's bed tightly.
"Yeah," Harry said vaguely.
"Is it your scar?" Hermione asked feebly as he saw them notice it glowing dully under his hair.
"No. It's been like this all summer."
Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous looks and Harry knew they were all looking at him not sure what he would do. Harry could guess that they expected him to blow up any minute like last summer. In fact, he actually hadn't said much at all. They probably think I'm thinking about Sirius, Harry thought but he wasn't this time. He was thinking about how Hermione and Ron would react when they heard the prophecy, if they ever heard it...
"I think I'd better go get my trunk..." Harry said so he could escape their stares but Ron laid back down, throwing Crookshank's toy up. Crookshanks kept her eyes on it.
"Don't bother," Ron said and Harry turned around.
"Why not?" Harry asked confused. Mrs. Weasley had said the same exact thing.
"Because you're---well, we're---not staying here this summer," Ron started explaining, throwing the ball against the ceiling, "Mum and Dad are going to be spending the rest of the summer at the headquarters. The Order hasn't had an official meeting in ages. Plus, Mum wants to finish cleaning up there. There are some rooms she hasn't even touched yet."
Harry walked back gloomily back to Ron's bed, "Don't worry, mate, it's not long 'til school starts up again." Ron murmured when he saw Harry's face darken at the thought of staying at number 12 again.
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The rest of the afternoon was pleasant enough for Harry. It was just the four of them with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Occasionally, someone would pop in, people part of the Order: Kingsley, Moody... but some of them were wizards Harry had never met before. Harry found out that Bill and Charlie were working hard to bring foreign wizards on their side and that it was gradually working, but most of the time the wizards were still in shock of Voldemort's return that they were uneasy joining any sides at the moment. Percy was back at the Ministry with his own place and Fred and George, Harry heard, came in several times a week just to stop in.
Mrs. Weasley set up dinner for the four late that night. She and Mr. Weasley had to leave to where it was "none of their business". Not even five minutes after they apparated did they hear two cracks.
"Ow!" Ginny yelped and there was Fred and George in the kitchen, Fred on Ginny's foot. They were both in sharp, casual clothes looking as cheerful as ever.
"Sorry, sis," Fred smiled and he picked through the kitchen. "Mmm, nothing like the smell of home cooking. Did Mum leave us any?"
"Wouldn't it be easier just to buy and cook your own food instead of popping up every other day? It isn't all that hard you know," Ron said shoving a forkful of food in his mouth.
"Ah, Ron. You'll know someday what it'll feel like to miss home cooking when you grow up. Looks like we missed Mom's pork chops or something," George said as he looked at empty pans.
"Pot roast, actually," Harry said and Fred and George whipped around.
"Harry!" They said in unison and they slid across the table side to sit by him, "Here he is, folks," George beamed, ruffling Harry's hair, "The man that lead us to success."
"Don't you worry," Fred smirked, "We haven't forgotten. We owe you big time, but for now..." Fred paused and took out his wand. A bouquet of roses popped out next to Harry's dinnerplate, "A token from your fans."
"Thanks," Harry muttered gratefully and then said, "How's the shop going anyway?"
"Better than we could have ever imagined," Fred beamed.
"Thanks to our customers---" George started.
"---of all ages of course, but it's the young ones that start out as naïve as we were..."
"...learning the tricks of the trade of how to make the schooldays fun, or heck, any occasion."
"What did you name it anyway?" Hermione asked.
Fred sighed fondly, "The Weasleys Witching Hour... George and I planned it out ages ago."
"I think it might have been the first words out of our mouths..." George said faintly.
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Chapter Four: Back to Number Twelve
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