Chapter 2: The Big News
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Harry awoke from a nap he never meant to take. His new bed was so comfortable that he must have just dozed off while lying there. Harry looked at his watch. It was 6:00 pm. He decided to go downstairs to see Sirius. He got off his bed to see Hedwig sitting on the window-ledge with a dead mouse hanging from her mouth by it's tail.
Harry stood up and, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, walked out of his room and into the hallway. He yawned a bit and put his glasses back on. It took him a while to adjust to the look of his whereabouts, because he could've sworn the whole ordeal was just a dream he had had while napping. His heart leapt knowing that it was all real.
He walked down the hallway and towards the Grand Staircase, except he was paying more attention to his surroundings this time. He counted all of the doors he could see (25 so far) and he examined all of the pictures he came across. He saw a painting of a skinny, black-haired man that caught his eye. The man in the painting looked at Harry and smiled. Harry smiled back, feeling a bit awkward. He didn't know who the man was, but by the looks of his clothes, he was from about 100-300 A.D, Harry wasn't exactly sure.
"Hello there," the man said as Harry walked by.
Harry stopped. "Er, hi," he replied.
The man looked oddly familiar, and Harry couldn't help but get the feeling that this man wasn't a stranger, and that Harry somehow knew him.
"So, better than where you used to live?" the painting asked.
"Oh, much better," Harry answered, remembering the torture he long-endured while at the Dursley's.
"Where did you used to live anyways, Harry?" the man asked.
Harry's mind went blank for a second. How did the man in the painting know his name?
"Um, the Dursley's," Harry answered, "Er, a muggle family - a mean muggle family."
The man in the painting laughed . "well, I'm glad you're here. This house has been empty for about half a century now. It's been quite boring."Harry paused, and then asked the painting the question that was in his mind. "Um, sorry to be rude, but have we met before? I mean, you know my name and all- "
"Sirius has told me all about you," The painting replied, "Well, all that I've asked about, anyways. He says you're pretty famous. Odd. I hadn't heard of you until he mentioned you were coming here." Harry could feel his face getting red.
"Well," Harry continued, "You know my name, but I don't seem to know yours."
The painting looked a bit surprised, as if Harry was supposed to know his name.
"What?" the man laughed, "Don't you recognize old Godric Gryffindor? Wow, I thought they might've had at least one painting of me at Hogwarts, but I guess not."
Harry was in shock. He was talking to Godric Gryffindor. THE Godric Gryffindor - or, at least a painting of him.
"You - you're Godric Gryffindor?" Harry stammered.
The man nodded with an expression of pride in his face.
"Wow," Harry exclaimed, "I'm IN Gryffindor House at Hogwart's! This is amazing!"
Godric laughed a bit at Harry's excited reaction.
"Of course you are," he smiled, "All those of my blood are sorted into my house."
Harry stopped smiling. He could feel his jaw drop an inch. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? This had to be a mistake, Harry thought.
"Gryffindor blood, did you say?" Harry repeated.
Godric stopped smiling and looked at Harry curiously. "What, you didn't know?" he asked slowly.
Harry shook his head. What was Godric talking about?
"I see," Godric continued, looking rather hesitant, "Well, um, maybe it would be best if you asked Sirius about it then. Perhaps I'm not the one to explain it all to you."
Harry didn't wait around to reply, but instead found himself running down the hallway and down the stairs as fast as he could. He ran down the hallways and into the living-room where Sirius sat in front of the fireplace, reading what looked like the Daily Prophet.
Harry ran towards him and jumped into the chair across from Sirius.Sirius looked up and smiled at him. "Explored it all already?" he asked, looking back down at the paper.
"I just saw a painting of Godric Gryffindor," Harry panted, out of breath from running all of the way there.
Sirius looked up at him again. "Nice guy, eh?" he said. "Been here since this place was built." "Am I related to him?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.
Sirius looked at Harry more seriously this time. He set down the paper, still staring at Harry.
"How-"
"He told me I have Gryffindor blood in me," Harry interrupted.
Sirius raised his eyebrows in shock. "Oh," Sirius answered, with a slight chuckle, "I didn't even think he'd recognize you." Sirius folded up the paper and set it on the floor.
"Dumbledore told me not to tell you yet, but I guess I have to." Sirius took a deep breath. "Harry," he said, "indeed you are related to Godric Gryffindor. You're his last remaining direct descendant."
Harry found it hard to breathe after Sirius said this. His hands were shaking and his heart was pounding. He blinked his eyes in disbelief. Sirius, however, continued to speak.
"On your father's side, of course, seeing as how Lily was muggle-born."
Harry looked up at Sirius blankly. "Why hasn't anyone ever told me?" he asked sadly. Did anyone ever even think of telling him this startling news?
"Well," Sirius answered solemnly, "Mainly because everyone who knew (myself, a few Ministry workers, and the Hogwarts staff) didn't know whether you were ready or not to handle the truth. I mean, you're famous enough as it is, imagine how famous you'd be once everyone found out that you're Godric's Heir."
Harry had the feeling that Sirius was holding back on him. There was something he wasn't telling Harry, and Harry was going to find out what it was.
"There's more to it than that," Harry persisted. Sirius looked at Harry awkwardly and picked up the paper again, unfolding it.
"So," he said, changing the subject, "Did you hear that Rita Skeeter's an animagus?"
"Sirius," Harry pleaded. "Please, Sirius. I need to know. Why didn't Dumbledore want you telling me anything? Sirius, please."Sirius looked at Harry with somewhat guilty eyes. He took a deep sigh and set the paper down again. He leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on the arm-rests. "I guess there's no use in lying to you," Sirius continued, avoiding Harry's eyes. "Harry, Dumbledore just didn't want to frighten you. No one did. That's why we didn't tell you. It's not that any of us wanted to hide the fact from you-"
"Frighten me?" Harry asked. "Why should I be frightened?"
"Well, Harry, I wish I didn't have to explain it all to you by myself, but here it goes." Sirius took another deep breath and stood up, placing an arm on the mantel-piece above the fireplace. "Well, for as long as anyone can remember, there has been a strong conflict between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors at Hogwarts. The main reason for that is because a long time ago, just after Hogwarts was built, Salazar Slytherin turned evil. He was once best friends with Godric Gryffindor, but when he became a dark wizard, they became each other's worst enemies.
"Salazar Slytherin wasn't the first wizard to ever turn evil, but he was the first wizard to make Dark Magic popular. He invented a lot of dark arts, including some of the worst curses known to date. Curses like the Three Unforgivable Curses. He used dark magic to kill many innocent people, and, in the end, he killed Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff. Godric then, out of vengeance, killed Salazar. Of course, by that time, all four of the founders had families, and the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors all hated the Slytherin family. The Slytherins disliked them all in return, but especially the Gryffindors. And thus, the conflict began. The Gryffindor family and the Slytherin family fought and killed each other for centuries afterwards, each trying to extinguish one another's family.
"Eventually, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs let go of their grudges, but continued to dislike the Slytherin family. The conflict between Slytherins and Gryffindors reached as far as Hogwarts where it still lives today.
"For centuries, the Slytherins have been known as evil, and the Gryffindors as heroic. Both families eventually changed their names so as not to attract any attention from the enemy. The common name for the Slytherin family (as it is scarcely known now) is Ridge. The common name for the Gryffindor family was and still is Potter, and only the Ministry knows that."Wait a second," Harry cut in, trying to find room in his head for all this information, "Why should all of this frighten me?"
"Well, isn't it obvious?" Sirius asked, "Harry, you know that Voldemort is the heir of Slytherin. He knows that you're the heir of Gryffindor. That's why he tried to kill you, and that's why he will stop at nothing to kill you now. It's all about honour to him. And I'm afraid that he's a lot stronger than he was before he killed your parents, and it is going to take a lot of time and sacrifice to stop him now--if it's even possible."
Something in Harry's mind clicked. So that's why Voldemort wanted him dead. That's why his parents died. Voldemort wanted to kill off the Gryffindors, and killing Harry would surely do it.
Harry tried to slow down his heart. But he still didn't know why this all should frighten him more than he was already. He already knew that Voldemort wanted him dead, so what was the big deal?
"I still don't get it," Harry finally said, "I know Voldemort wants to kill me. I'm no more frightened now than I was when he rose again."
"Well, Harry, I'm not finished yet," Sirius continued, taking another deep breath, "Harry, death isn't what's going to frighten you. Pressure to succeed is. Pressure to fight to stay alive. For centuries, the only ones who have been able to stop the Slytherin heirs were the Gryffindors heirs. I'm not sure even Dumbledore could stop Voldemort now. But you, Harry, you have the power. You've shown that since you were a baby. Harry, you have to stay alive no matter what. If Voldemort succeeds in killing you, then the Slytherins will succeed in vanquishing the Gryffindors, and then who knows what will happen. Voldemort will be unstoppable. The world will be thrown into chaos, and dark magic will prevail. It's a very frightening concept to take into mind."
Harry quite agreed with him. His head was spinning. He didn't know what to say.
"Now," Sirius continued, "Harry, do you understand why we didn't want to tell you until you were a bit older and more prepared?"
Harry nodded. He still couldn't form any words, but he was well aware that his mouth was hanging open now. A sudden drop in his stomach made him feel as though he was going to be sick if he didn't close his mouth. He closed his mouth, but the sickness didn't go away. Breaking the silence, Harry finally spoke."If the Slytherin family is so evil, then why are they honoured at Hogwarts by having their own house?"
"Well," Sirius answered, "Although Salazar was a very evil wizard in his later years, he was actually very caring and kind in the beginning of his life. He achieved many great things in his early years which is what Hogwarts honours him for."
"What made him go bad?" Harry asked, expecting a story of great length, but instead, Sirius's answer was very short and rather blunt.
"Nobody knows," Sirius answered.
"Nobody at all?" Harry asked.
"Well, possibly his family, but they've never told anyone. And I shouldn't expect Voldemort to tell anyone now, either."
Sirius, who had kept his eyes on the fire for the entire story, looked up at Harry finally. His black hair slightly hung down over his eyes, just like Harry's did. Looking at him carefully, though, Harry could tell just how upset Sirius was.
"Harry," he continued in a very forlorn voice, "I'm so sorry you had to hear all of this. I know I'm probably not explaining things well enough, but if you have any questions-"
Harry shook his head. He didn't seem to have any more questions. Things in his mind began to make sense all on their own. His head, which five minutes ago had been swarming with thousands of questions, was now very heavy with information, and Harry was once again feeling very tired. More than anything, Harry just wanted to yell and shout at the top of his lungs to let out all of the emotions he was feeling. Punching a wall, even, might have satisfied him. But instead, he stood up and looked into the flames within the fireplace. They seemed to dance in front of him and for some strange reason, Harry felt like reaching out and touching them. He wanted the flames to burn him so that he could make sure that he wasn't dreaming - that this entire day had been real. He continued to look at the fire for what must have been minutes before Sirius's voice finally snapped him out of it.
"Are you alright?" he asked, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Yeah," Harry lied, "I'm just tired." The last part wasn't a complete lie.
Harry looked up at Sirius and stared into his eyes for a bit, then added, "I think I'm gonna go to bed now."Both he and Sirius knew it was too early to go to bed, but Sirius didn't argue or say anything about the time.
"You're not hungry, are you?" he asked, "I'd imagine you haven't eaten for a bit."
Although Sirius was right, Harry knew he would definitely be sick all over if he ate anything.
"No, thanks," he answered. Harry then gave somewhat of a smile to Sirius, turned around and began to walk out of the room. "Goodnight," he murmured as he left.
"Goodnight," Sirius called after him, trying to sound happy, but failing.
Harry began to walk very fast. He wanted to write to Ron and Hermione, and tell them both about the big news - not what Sirius had just told him, but about moving out of the Durlsey's and living with Sirius.
As Harry passed Godric's painting, he could hear Godric saying something, but he wasn't in a talkative mood, so he kept walking, pretending he hadn't heard anything.
Harry walked into his room and closed the door behind him. Hedwig was happily asleep in her cage.
Harry got his trunk and opened it, grabbing a quill and some parchment.
He decided to write to Ron first. He sat at his desk and an began to write.
In the letter, he thanked Ron for the birthday present he had sent to Harry on his birthday (a monthly subscription to "Quidditch World").
He told Ron all about how he had moved, and invited Ron over.
After he was done the letter, he wrote Hermione a similar letter, and invited her over as well.
He folded up each letter and stood up. He strode over towards Hedwig's cage, and gently poked her to wake her up.
"Here," he said, giving the two letters to her, which she put in her beak. "For Ron and Hermione. Sorry for giving you two at a time, but I know you can handle it, right?"
Hedwig fluffed out her feathers and spread her wings with dignity, trying to say that she most certainly could handle it. With a great swoosh, she soared through the room and out the window, into the darkening sky.
Now Harry really felt like he could go to bed. It was now 8:30 pm. Harry changed into his pajamas, and closed the window which Hedwig had flown through. He climbed into his bed and covered himself in blankets. He took off his glasses and set them on his bedside table.
"Out," he muttered, and the candles in the room blew out on command.
Harry laid back, trying not to think of the day's events. Sure enough, as he began to fall asleep, his mind wandered off into normally weird and happy dreams. With a tiny snore, Harry fell asleep.
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-Summer :)
Harry awoke from a nap he never meant to take. His new bed was so comfortable that he must have just dozed off while lying there. Harry looked at his watch. It was 6:00 pm. He decided to go downstairs to see Sirius. He got off his bed to see Hedwig sitting on the window-ledge with a dead mouse hanging from her mouth by it's tail.
Harry stood up and, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, walked out of his room and into the hallway. He yawned a bit and put his glasses back on. It took him a while to adjust to the look of his whereabouts, because he could've sworn the whole ordeal was just a dream he had had while napping. His heart leapt knowing that it was all real.
He walked down the hallway and towards the Grand Staircase, except he was paying more attention to his surroundings this time. He counted all of the doors he could see (25 so far) and he examined all of the pictures he came across. He saw a painting of a skinny, black-haired man that caught his eye. The man in the painting looked at Harry and smiled. Harry smiled back, feeling a bit awkward. He didn't know who the man was, but by the looks of his clothes, he was from about 100-300 A.D, Harry wasn't exactly sure.
"Hello there," the man said as Harry walked by.
Harry stopped. "Er, hi," he replied.
The man looked oddly familiar, and Harry couldn't help but get the feeling that this man wasn't a stranger, and that Harry somehow knew him.
"So, better than where you used to live?" the painting asked.
"Oh, much better," Harry answered, remembering the torture he long-endured while at the Dursley's.
"Where did you used to live anyways, Harry?" the man asked.
Harry's mind went blank for a second. How did the man in the painting know his name?
"Um, the Dursley's," Harry answered, "Er, a muggle family - a mean muggle family."
The man in the painting laughed . "well, I'm glad you're here. This house has been empty for about half a century now. It's been quite boring."Harry paused, and then asked the painting the question that was in his mind. "Um, sorry to be rude, but have we met before? I mean, you know my name and all- "
"Sirius has told me all about you," The painting replied, "Well, all that I've asked about, anyways. He says you're pretty famous. Odd. I hadn't heard of you until he mentioned you were coming here." Harry could feel his face getting red.
"Well," Harry continued, "You know my name, but I don't seem to know yours."
The painting looked a bit surprised, as if Harry was supposed to know his name.
"What?" the man laughed, "Don't you recognize old Godric Gryffindor? Wow, I thought they might've had at least one painting of me at Hogwarts, but I guess not."
Harry was in shock. He was talking to Godric Gryffindor. THE Godric Gryffindor - or, at least a painting of him.
"You - you're Godric Gryffindor?" Harry stammered.
The man nodded with an expression of pride in his face.
"Wow," Harry exclaimed, "I'm IN Gryffindor House at Hogwart's! This is amazing!"
Godric laughed a bit at Harry's excited reaction.
"Of course you are," he smiled, "All those of my blood are sorted into my house."
Harry stopped smiling. He could feel his jaw drop an inch. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? This had to be a mistake, Harry thought.
"Gryffindor blood, did you say?" Harry repeated.
Godric stopped smiling and looked at Harry curiously. "What, you didn't know?" he asked slowly.
Harry shook his head. What was Godric talking about?
"I see," Godric continued, looking rather hesitant, "Well, um, maybe it would be best if you asked Sirius about it then. Perhaps I'm not the one to explain it all to you."
Harry didn't wait around to reply, but instead found himself running down the hallway and down the stairs as fast as he could. He ran down the hallways and into the living-room where Sirius sat in front of the fireplace, reading what looked like the Daily Prophet.
Harry ran towards him and jumped into the chair across from Sirius.Sirius looked up and smiled at him. "Explored it all already?" he asked, looking back down at the paper.
"I just saw a painting of Godric Gryffindor," Harry panted, out of breath from running all of the way there.
Sirius looked up at him again. "Nice guy, eh?" he said. "Been here since this place was built." "Am I related to him?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.
Sirius looked at Harry more seriously this time. He set down the paper, still staring at Harry.
"How-"
"He told me I have Gryffindor blood in me," Harry interrupted.
Sirius raised his eyebrows in shock. "Oh," Sirius answered, with a slight chuckle, "I didn't even think he'd recognize you." Sirius folded up the paper and set it on the floor.
"Dumbledore told me not to tell you yet, but I guess I have to." Sirius took a deep breath. "Harry," he said, "indeed you are related to Godric Gryffindor. You're his last remaining direct descendant."
Harry found it hard to breathe after Sirius said this. His hands were shaking and his heart was pounding. He blinked his eyes in disbelief. Sirius, however, continued to speak.
"On your father's side, of course, seeing as how Lily was muggle-born."
Harry looked up at Sirius blankly. "Why hasn't anyone ever told me?" he asked sadly. Did anyone ever even think of telling him this startling news?
"Well," Sirius answered solemnly, "Mainly because everyone who knew (myself, a few Ministry workers, and the Hogwarts staff) didn't know whether you were ready or not to handle the truth. I mean, you're famous enough as it is, imagine how famous you'd be once everyone found out that you're Godric's Heir."
Harry had the feeling that Sirius was holding back on him. There was something he wasn't telling Harry, and Harry was going to find out what it was.
"There's more to it than that," Harry persisted. Sirius looked at Harry awkwardly and picked up the paper again, unfolding it.
"So," he said, changing the subject, "Did you hear that Rita Skeeter's an animagus?"
"Sirius," Harry pleaded. "Please, Sirius. I need to know. Why didn't Dumbledore want you telling me anything? Sirius, please."Sirius looked at Harry with somewhat guilty eyes. He took a deep sigh and set the paper down again. He leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on the arm-rests. "I guess there's no use in lying to you," Sirius continued, avoiding Harry's eyes. "Harry, Dumbledore just didn't want to frighten you. No one did. That's why we didn't tell you. It's not that any of us wanted to hide the fact from you-"
"Frighten me?" Harry asked. "Why should I be frightened?"
"Well, Harry, I wish I didn't have to explain it all to you by myself, but here it goes." Sirius took another deep breath and stood up, placing an arm on the mantel-piece above the fireplace. "Well, for as long as anyone can remember, there has been a strong conflict between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors at Hogwarts. The main reason for that is because a long time ago, just after Hogwarts was built, Salazar Slytherin turned evil. He was once best friends with Godric Gryffindor, but when he became a dark wizard, they became each other's worst enemies.
"Salazar Slytherin wasn't the first wizard to ever turn evil, but he was the first wizard to make Dark Magic popular. He invented a lot of dark arts, including some of the worst curses known to date. Curses like the Three Unforgivable Curses. He used dark magic to kill many innocent people, and, in the end, he killed Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff. Godric then, out of vengeance, killed Salazar. Of course, by that time, all four of the founders had families, and the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors all hated the Slytherin family. The Slytherins disliked them all in return, but especially the Gryffindors. And thus, the conflict began. The Gryffindor family and the Slytherin family fought and killed each other for centuries afterwards, each trying to extinguish one another's family.
"Eventually, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs let go of their grudges, but continued to dislike the Slytherin family. The conflict between Slytherins and Gryffindors reached as far as Hogwarts where it still lives today.
"For centuries, the Slytherins have been known as evil, and the Gryffindors as heroic. Both families eventually changed their names so as not to attract any attention from the enemy. The common name for the Slytherin family (as it is scarcely known now) is Ridge. The common name for the Gryffindor family was and still is Potter, and only the Ministry knows that."Wait a second," Harry cut in, trying to find room in his head for all this information, "Why should all of this frighten me?"
"Well, isn't it obvious?" Sirius asked, "Harry, you know that Voldemort is the heir of Slytherin. He knows that you're the heir of Gryffindor. That's why he tried to kill you, and that's why he will stop at nothing to kill you now. It's all about honour to him. And I'm afraid that he's a lot stronger than he was before he killed your parents, and it is going to take a lot of time and sacrifice to stop him now--if it's even possible."
Something in Harry's mind clicked. So that's why Voldemort wanted him dead. That's why his parents died. Voldemort wanted to kill off the Gryffindors, and killing Harry would surely do it.
Harry tried to slow down his heart. But he still didn't know why this all should frighten him more than he was already. He already knew that Voldemort wanted him dead, so what was the big deal?
"I still don't get it," Harry finally said, "I know Voldemort wants to kill me. I'm no more frightened now than I was when he rose again."
"Well, Harry, I'm not finished yet," Sirius continued, taking another deep breath, "Harry, death isn't what's going to frighten you. Pressure to succeed is. Pressure to fight to stay alive. For centuries, the only ones who have been able to stop the Slytherin heirs were the Gryffindors heirs. I'm not sure even Dumbledore could stop Voldemort now. But you, Harry, you have the power. You've shown that since you were a baby. Harry, you have to stay alive no matter what. If Voldemort succeeds in killing you, then the Slytherins will succeed in vanquishing the Gryffindors, and then who knows what will happen. Voldemort will be unstoppable. The world will be thrown into chaos, and dark magic will prevail. It's a very frightening concept to take into mind."
Harry quite agreed with him. His head was spinning. He didn't know what to say.
"Now," Sirius continued, "Harry, do you understand why we didn't want to tell you until you were a bit older and more prepared?"
Harry nodded. He still couldn't form any words, but he was well aware that his mouth was hanging open now. A sudden drop in his stomach made him feel as though he was going to be sick if he didn't close his mouth. He closed his mouth, but the sickness didn't go away. Breaking the silence, Harry finally spoke."If the Slytherin family is so evil, then why are they honoured at Hogwarts by having their own house?"
"Well," Sirius answered, "Although Salazar was a very evil wizard in his later years, he was actually very caring and kind in the beginning of his life. He achieved many great things in his early years which is what Hogwarts honours him for."
"What made him go bad?" Harry asked, expecting a story of great length, but instead, Sirius's answer was very short and rather blunt.
"Nobody knows," Sirius answered.
"Nobody at all?" Harry asked.
"Well, possibly his family, but they've never told anyone. And I shouldn't expect Voldemort to tell anyone now, either."
Sirius, who had kept his eyes on the fire for the entire story, looked up at Harry finally. His black hair slightly hung down over his eyes, just like Harry's did. Looking at him carefully, though, Harry could tell just how upset Sirius was.
"Harry," he continued in a very forlorn voice, "I'm so sorry you had to hear all of this. I know I'm probably not explaining things well enough, but if you have any questions-"
Harry shook his head. He didn't seem to have any more questions. Things in his mind began to make sense all on their own. His head, which five minutes ago had been swarming with thousands of questions, was now very heavy with information, and Harry was once again feeling very tired. More than anything, Harry just wanted to yell and shout at the top of his lungs to let out all of the emotions he was feeling. Punching a wall, even, might have satisfied him. But instead, he stood up and looked into the flames within the fireplace. They seemed to dance in front of him and for some strange reason, Harry felt like reaching out and touching them. He wanted the flames to burn him so that he could make sure that he wasn't dreaming - that this entire day had been real. He continued to look at the fire for what must have been minutes before Sirius's voice finally snapped him out of it.
"Are you alright?" he asked, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Yeah," Harry lied, "I'm just tired." The last part wasn't a complete lie.
Harry looked up at Sirius and stared into his eyes for a bit, then added, "I think I'm gonna go to bed now."Both he and Sirius knew it was too early to go to bed, but Sirius didn't argue or say anything about the time.
"You're not hungry, are you?" he asked, "I'd imagine you haven't eaten for a bit."
Although Sirius was right, Harry knew he would definitely be sick all over if he ate anything.
"No, thanks," he answered. Harry then gave somewhat of a smile to Sirius, turned around and began to walk out of the room. "Goodnight," he murmured as he left.
"Goodnight," Sirius called after him, trying to sound happy, but failing.
Harry began to walk very fast. He wanted to write to Ron and Hermione, and tell them both about the big news - not what Sirius had just told him, but about moving out of the Durlsey's and living with Sirius.
As Harry passed Godric's painting, he could hear Godric saying something, but he wasn't in a talkative mood, so he kept walking, pretending he hadn't heard anything.
Harry walked into his room and closed the door behind him. Hedwig was happily asleep in her cage.
Harry got his trunk and opened it, grabbing a quill and some parchment.
He decided to write to Ron first. He sat at his desk and an began to write.
In the letter, he thanked Ron for the birthday present he had sent to Harry on his birthday (a monthly subscription to "Quidditch World").
He told Ron all about how he had moved, and invited Ron over.
After he was done the letter, he wrote Hermione a similar letter, and invited her over as well.
He folded up each letter and stood up. He strode over towards Hedwig's cage, and gently poked her to wake her up.
"Here," he said, giving the two letters to her, which she put in her beak. "For Ron and Hermione. Sorry for giving you two at a time, but I know you can handle it, right?"
Hedwig fluffed out her feathers and spread her wings with dignity, trying to say that she most certainly could handle it. With a great swoosh, she soared through the room and out the window, into the darkening sky.
Now Harry really felt like he could go to bed. It was now 8:30 pm. Harry changed into his pajamas, and closed the window which Hedwig had flown through. He climbed into his bed and covered himself in blankets. He took off his glasses and set them on his bedside table.
"Out," he muttered, and the candles in the room blew out on command.
Harry laid back, trying not to think of the day's events. Sure enough, as he began to fall asleep, his mind wandered off into normally weird and happy dreams. With a tiny snore, Harry fell asleep.
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-Summer :)