Apologies for the long wait! Lifeguard training took up quite a bit of my
time!
------------------------------
Chapter 8 "A Nighttime Stroll"
"Harry? Harry!" yelled Ron.
Harry was jolted awake, just as he was when he left Privet Drive. He was irritated he was being shaken, but glad to be awake again all the same. He woke up with his sheets wrapped around him so he could barely move, and everything seemed to be wet with cold sweat.
"What happened?" asked Harry, wondering if he really did all this from that nightmare, or was it a nightmare?
"Mate, you were yelling and twisting about in your sheets as if you'd gone mad or something," said Ron shakily. "Was it another vision? Who was it? Is anyone in danger?"
"Er..." said Harry, thinking back to the dream.
It was located in the woods. It was nighttime, about the same time it had been when he'd fallen asleep, and Voldemort was speaking with someone. He and a woman were staying there, to hide...and the woman's voice was very familiar to him, though he couldn't see her face because her back was turned from his view. They were discussing something...something about a surprise attack somewhere. Where? He couldn't be certain. The harder he thought, the quicker his memory of it washed away. He was straining hard now, trying to endure every last thing he remembered. They were planning an attack somewhere near or in London. Where again? He still couldn't be sure. Then, the last thing he remembered was the woman turning with an evil sneer upon her face, as though Christmas was coming and she just couldn't wait. It was Bellatrix. Why he hadn't thought of it earlier was beyond him, who else could it be? Bellatrix was his most loyal servant now...now that she's done...his murder.
"Well?" asked Ron, waiting for an answer.
"It was Voldemort, and Bellatrix was with him. They were planning a surprise attack somewhere...around London. He seemed awfully happy about the chat," said Harry, still surprising himself with his ability to sense his moods so effortlessly.
"C'mon, lets go get someone, we can tell Lupin right now," said Ron, who'd flinched at the sound of Voldemort's name, just as he had done on so many countless occasions.
"I dunno, I mean, it might've just been a dream," added Harry, feeling guilty for not every trying to work on his Occlumency, because if he had, that vision wouldn't even of happened. He didn't want it to happen. He knew what Voldemort was capable of doing with his mind now, and he wasn't about to ask for those dreams any longer, not after what happened to Sirius.
"Harry, we're going, this sounds like a vision to me."
"Fine," said Harry, realizing that he'd been defeated. So Ron helped him out of his twisted covers, and steered him out of the room.
They noiselessly scurried out of their bedroom, and down the hall. They figured Lupin might still be up, maybe having a late night cup of some freshly brewed coffee. The two hurried into the kitchen to find all the lights out but the fireplace. Someone was sitting in a chair, only his or her shadow letting Harry know of the persons presence. Harry and Ron crept up slowly, and then Harry finally decided to speak, careful not to startle whomever it was, just in case it really was Remus.
"Lupin? Is that you?" he asked in a loud whisper.
The person neither flinched, jumped, nor turned to see who was talking. Still unturned in his or her seat, the person spoke in a scorned undertone, which, no matter how quiet, made Harry and Ron jump two feet off the ground.
"Well, what are you two wandering about in such hours of the night, but it's not like it's a first, Mr. Potter," he said very calmly.
What in the world was he doing here? At the sound of 'Mr. Potter,' Harry and Ron gave one another taken aback glances. Since when was he ever in Grimmauld Place after the meetings, sitting in front of the fire, and of all things, having a cup of coffee.
"You! What are you, doing here?" cried Harry.
"I, am here on Dumbledore's orders, Potter, and nothing more," still unturned in his chair.
"Then why may I ask, Snape, why you are relaxing in my house, by my fireplace, with my coffee?" added Harry, trying to sound as horrible as possible.
Ron, stunned at Harry's rudeness, just stood and watched as the two men decked it out.
"My, my, my, you are still quite the childish brat."
"Why are you here on Dumbledore's orders?" asked Harry, getting straight down to his main question.
"Well, since Lupin isn't here at the moment, I was sent here to watch the place till morning. Unless you two dull-headed idiots weren't intelligent enough to realize that there's a full moon tonight," he sneered, still with his back unturned.
Harry was about to retort back, but had nothing to say, as he did forget that tonight was the full moon, so he just stood there, dumbstruck.
"What did you want him for anyway? To look and see if there was a little lethifold under your bed?" he sneered, but obviously curious, because he finally turned in his chair so that Harry could see that pale, sallow face's gray eyes staring at him.
Harry thought hard on what to say. What did he do? He couldn't let Snape know that he wasn't practicing, let alone even thinking about Occlumency or occluding his mind in the least bit, before Dumbledore ever mentioned it.
"I...er...I mean...we just wanted to...ask him some things that were going on in the Order," he replied, looking over to the wall right above Snape's left shoulder. He now knew not the look him directly in the eye, unless he favored Snape detecting his quick-thought lies. Or could he do it without looking into people's eyes? Was Snape that powerful at Legillimency?
"Oh, come on you foolish boy, it's obvious you've had a vision," he sneered, a smirk going along with the insult. "Why else would Weasley have come, rather than to make you," he added, shifting his icy stare to Ron, now. He fidgeted as this happened, and tore from his gaze as well. "And look at you, you're covered in your nauseating sweat. I was right, I knew you wouldn't have the brains to block out the Dark Lord, even after what happened to that god-forsaken godfather of yours."
Harry was glaring at his Potions professor, jaw set and fists clenched so tight that the nail indents from earlier were far worse than when overhearing the meeting. 'How dare you,' thought Harry, ' and after you even egged him on to do something like that. You have no place whatsoever to speak ill of him, even after that Pensieve session.' He was no longer looking at the floor, but his stare was attempting to burn into Snape's, hoping that he heard every bit of what Harry had said.
And luckily, from the look on the dreadful man's face, he read every single bit of it, and the last part seemed the most insulting to Snape. He was now glaring at Harry with such hatred, such a loathing, that his stare really did seem to be burning into Harry.
Ron now had a look of confusion upon his face, as he took notice of Snape's facial expressions change in an instant, not understanding that Harry had insulted him from inside his own head.
"How dare you! You insufferable little twit, you will never speak in that way to me ever again, or I'll be taking more than house-points once you're back at Hogwarts," Snape warned, his voice dangerously severe.
"Well then how about you never ever insulting Sirius in that way ever again!" retorted Harry.
There was nothing left to say, and just before he was about to leave, he'd realized he had openly let Snape read his mind, meaning that he most definitely saw his vision. Angry with his stupid move, he and Ron headed back to bed. They were on their floor when, in the pitch dark, Harry slammed into something solid.
"Ouch!" he cried, along with a swear word or two. He pulled out his wand, which he left in his pocket at all times, and was now in habit of doing so, even in Grimmauld Place.
"Damnit!" cried the solid figure in pain.
"Who's there?" asked Ron, talking thickly into the blackness.
"Who do you think it is?"
"Do you really think we'd know, seeing as it's the middle of the night, and completely dark and all," yelled Ron, directing his voice towards the person.
"It's Fred, you Flobberworm!" he cried, still rubbing his now bruised rib and whispering a Lumos to show them all in clear light.
"Why in Merlin's name are you wandering around at night like this?" shouted Ron, still trying to keep his voice somewhat to a dull roar.
"Well, me and George heard Harry, here, yelling, and then you two dashing down to the main floor, so I decided to come check it out. You, know, since last year when he had a dream about dad. George would've come, be he had to stay up there in case mum came wandering in, just to check on us," replied Fred, somewhat annoyed with the last part about his mum.
"So you came to eavesdrop on us, were you?" asked Ron, somewhat offended.
"Of course little bro!"
"Oh, c'mon, who really cares," said Harry, finally speaking for the first time. "Did you hear anything downstairs then?"
"Nope, I was just going down when you two came back. George and I had to choose between each other on who would come down, but since I had the privilege, now I'm stuck testing our latest idea, Supreme Slugs," said Fred, his tone hinting a bit of glumness.
"Supreme Slugs?" questioned Harry, the title sounding fairly explanatory.
"Yes, and we are thankful that Ron's little spell in 2nd year, you know, the one that backfired on Malfoy about slugs. Well, they are little candies that look like your innocent little gummy worms, but looks can be deceiving." added Fred with a smirk, now his voice becoming overpowered with amusement.
"That's nice, Fred, using my unfortunate spell as an invention," said Ron, trying to cover up his amusement.
"Oh, get over it, ickle Ronnie-kins, it was a superior little hex, and we've come up with a way for these Supreme Slugs to slide down your throat, but after doing so, they crawl back up, but multiply, depending on the color of them! I'm just warning you, to look out for the purple ones, those are by-far the nastiest," said Fred.
"That's great! But when are you doing all this, being here and not at the joke shop for the summer, being off and all?" asked Harry, who really was quite curious.
"You don't really think we go to bed that early do you?" said Fred schemingly.
Harry just smirked and Ron started to steer himself, and Harry back to their room.
"C'mon, Harry, lets go."
"Wait! What happened downstairs? I heard Harry and someone else yelling down there, and I didn't need the Extendable Ears to hear it, either," said Fred, wanting a reasonable answer from them.
"Well, Lupin's not here, since it's full moon and all," said Harry, feeling a twinge of guilt for not remembering. "So Dumbledore's sent someone else to stay up and stand guard."
"Who? Was Tonks or Mad-Eye down there? Why would you yell at them?"
"Nope, I wish it would've been them though."
"C'mon Harry, who?"
"It was Snape," admitted Ron, with a pure look of disgust upon his freckly face.
"I did, in fact, have a vision, and we were going to inform Lupin about it, but we ended up finding Snape instead. Then he went on to insult Sirius...and that's probably when you heard shouting," added Harry.
"Wow, and he had the nerve to insult him? In his own old house?" cried Fred, "stupid, slimy, filthy scum, git of a Professor and Order member!"
"Well, that's the old git for you," said Ron, his disgusted face deepening while attaining a slight red tint to his ears.
In the seconds they were silent, the three heard someone headed down the hall, their footsteps hurrying closer and closer.
"Who's there? Fred, George...are you two sneaking around again?" whispered Mrs. Weasley, her tone very harsh, but groggy.
"Goodnight you two!" said Fred, and with a turn, and a quick little pop! he was gone.
Harry and Ron ran down the hall, and since their room was in the direction of Mrs. Weasley, they did the only thing they could do, run the other way and stay out of sight till she went back to her own room.
Still searching frantically for a place to hide, they finally came across a room, which was thankfully unlocked, or, seemed to actually spring open as they ran towards it, and hurried in, quietly clicking the door closed behind them.
Ron muttered Lumos under his breath to give them a clear view of the room they'd come across. Both turned around and gasped as they took in all the features of the odd room.
"Why have we never come across this before?" Harry said, wondering aloud.
"I don't ever remember seeing this room here before," said Ron, his voice filled with amazement.
With a glance at each other and a nod, they decided to explore the room. Ron tried to make this the best conclusion because—
"Well, we are hiding from mum till she goes back, we might as well occupy ourselves while we wait! And what better than in this wicked room!"
The room was amazing. It had hundreds upon hundreds of defense books, along with hexes, curses, jinxes, and Dark Arts material. There were many different kinds of small gadgets spread throughout the room, some of them looking similar to the ones that Harry, himself, had smashed in Dumbledore's office, only a mere two months ago.
Ron searched throughout the books, looking for something good, and Harry decided to interest himself with the different Dark gadgets in the room. He took note of a few silver ones upon a small shelf, and a note on the shelf saying, Spy Objects. The shelves were dusty, and seemed to look like even Kreature, who already did a deprived job at cleaning, seemed to have been avoiding this room for possibly the entire time he ever lived to serve the Blacks'.
He was looking deeply into a geometrical shaped one, when Ron called him over to a book he had pulled down from a shelf.
"Harry! Look at this!" Ron cried, admiring the book greatly.
"What is it?"
"It's called Hexes, Jinxes, and Curses: A Guide to Your Most Complex, But Useful Spells. We could definitely take a look at this sometime! There are some excellent ones in here that would put Malfoy and those thugs of his right!" said Ron, his face filled with glee, as though he could have all the Honeyduke's candy he wanted—for free.
"That's great! I'm sure some of those could definitely fit nicely with the Acne hex!" said Harry, who was already scanning the room, trying to find something else to look at.
He had almost scanned around the entire room, when his gaze fell upon a small corner, which had a few pictures hanging in it's small little space.
He walked away from Ron, who was in mid-sentence, reading a jinx off to Harry.
"Yeah, cool," Harry added thickly, walking towards the corner. Ron just shrugged and read on.
The corner was also dusty, but even more so than the rest of the unkept room. The pictures were inside golden frames, and looked very expensive.
Inside one, was a man with long dark hair tied back, who's color and length looked identical to Sirius', and had the same structure to his face. He also had a black mustache, which curled up at the ends. He looked very well groomed. He didn't smile, or even move, he just blinked up at Harry in a menacing way.
In another picture, there was three young girls, who looked like extremely young versions of Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Malfoy, and another girl who must've been a young version of Sirius' favorite cousin, Andromeda. They all smiled up from the frame, their eyes young and innocent, full of love and innocence, and nothing more. They smiled and waved happily at Harry.
And in the last one, was a man who looked somewhat like Sirius, who had the same face structure as him too, but the hair was a light shade of brown, and was even longer and rattier than Sirius' had even been. Harry assumed that this man must be Regulus, his god-father's younger brother, who was a Death Eater. And right next to him, was Sirius himself, who looked very forlorn in the picture and didn't wave, but merely stared at Harry, Sirius' revulsion toward his family showing through in the picture with his brother. Although, looking angry, Sirius looked completely different, his face was young and full of color. His eyes were completely bright, and not sunken in in the slightest bit. He was very good-looking, even for such a young age, and looked like he had a good physique, he was still quite skinny, but not nearly as much so as when he'd escaped from Azkaban.
At that moment, Harry had realized why he had hated this house so much. He knew before, but never had a complete understanding of it. This house probably flooded back memories to him, all, Harry was sure, miserable and probably quite painful. He felt so horrible at the thought of him being stuck here, in this infinite reminder of all of them. He didn't feel pity, because he knew that Sirius would be upset at the thought of his godson taking pity on him. He felt understanding, and with that, he motioned to Ron, who reluctantly set down his book, and they headed out the door.
The next morning Harry woke up early, not getting much sleep last night, even after his return to bed. As soon as he closed his eyes, the picture of Sirius' gloomy, miserable face staring up at him. He realized they lived somewhat of a similar childhood. Stuck with the worst people in the world, who treated him horribly and unproven. They both hated the places they were each stuck in, locked in, like prison, like Azkaban. Harry felt such a rush of gratitude for him, for being able to cope with his prison, Grimmauld Place. And before actually drifting off into a very troubled sleep, a tear ran down his cheek; he was now truly missing his godfather more than ever before.
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Chapter 8 "A Nighttime Stroll"
"Harry? Harry!" yelled Ron.
Harry was jolted awake, just as he was when he left Privet Drive. He was irritated he was being shaken, but glad to be awake again all the same. He woke up with his sheets wrapped around him so he could barely move, and everything seemed to be wet with cold sweat.
"What happened?" asked Harry, wondering if he really did all this from that nightmare, or was it a nightmare?
"Mate, you were yelling and twisting about in your sheets as if you'd gone mad or something," said Ron shakily. "Was it another vision? Who was it? Is anyone in danger?"
"Er..." said Harry, thinking back to the dream.
It was located in the woods. It was nighttime, about the same time it had been when he'd fallen asleep, and Voldemort was speaking with someone. He and a woman were staying there, to hide...and the woman's voice was very familiar to him, though he couldn't see her face because her back was turned from his view. They were discussing something...something about a surprise attack somewhere. Where? He couldn't be certain. The harder he thought, the quicker his memory of it washed away. He was straining hard now, trying to endure every last thing he remembered. They were planning an attack somewhere near or in London. Where again? He still couldn't be sure. Then, the last thing he remembered was the woman turning with an evil sneer upon her face, as though Christmas was coming and she just couldn't wait. It was Bellatrix. Why he hadn't thought of it earlier was beyond him, who else could it be? Bellatrix was his most loyal servant now...now that she's done...his murder.
"Well?" asked Ron, waiting for an answer.
"It was Voldemort, and Bellatrix was with him. They were planning a surprise attack somewhere...around London. He seemed awfully happy about the chat," said Harry, still surprising himself with his ability to sense his moods so effortlessly.
"C'mon, lets go get someone, we can tell Lupin right now," said Ron, who'd flinched at the sound of Voldemort's name, just as he had done on so many countless occasions.
"I dunno, I mean, it might've just been a dream," added Harry, feeling guilty for not every trying to work on his Occlumency, because if he had, that vision wouldn't even of happened. He didn't want it to happen. He knew what Voldemort was capable of doing with his mind now, and he wasn't about to ask for those dreams any longer, not after what happened to Sirius.
"Harry, we're going, this sounds like a vision to me."
"Fine," said Harry, realizing that he'd been defeated. So Ron helped him out of his twisted covers, and steered him out of the room.
They noiselessly scurried out of their bedroom, and down the hall. They figured Lupin might still be up, maybe having a late night cup of some freshly brewed coffee. The two hurried into the kitchen to find all the lights out but the fireplace. Someone was sitting in a chair, only his or her shadow letting Harry know of the persons presence. Harry and Ron crept up slowly, and then Harry finally decided to speak, careful not to startle whomever it was, just in case it really was Remus.
"Lupin? Is that you?" he asked in a loud whisper.
The person neither flinched, jumped, nor turned to see who was talking. Still unturned in his or her seat, the person spoke in a scorned undertone, which, no matter how quiet, made Harry and Ron jump two feet off the ground.
"Well, what are you two wandering about in such hours of the night, but it's not like it's a first, Mr. Potter," he said very calmly.
What in the world was he doing here? At the sound of 'Mr. Potter,' Harry and Ron gave one another taken aback glances. Since when was he ever in Grimmauld Place after the meetings, sitting in front of the fire, and of all things, having a cup of coffee.
"You! What are you, doing here?" cried Harry.
"I, am here on Dumbledore's orders, Potter, and nothing more," still unturned in his chair.
"Then why may I ask, Snape, why you are relaxing in my house, by my fireplace, with my coffee?" added Harry, trying to sound as horrible as possible.
Ron, stunned at Harry's rudeness, just stood and watched as the two men decked it out.
"My, my, my, you are still quite the childish brat."
"Why are you here on Dumbledore's orders?" asked Harry, getting straight down to his main question.
"Well, since Lupin isn't here at the moment, I was sent here to watch the place till morning. Unless you two dull-headed idiots weren't intelligent enough to realize that there's a full moon tonight," he sneered, still with his back unturned.
Harry was about to retort back, but had nothing to say, as he did forget that tonight was the full moon, so he just stood there, dumbstruck.
"What did you want him for anyway? To look and see if there was a little lethifold under your bed?" he sneered, but obviously curious, because he finally turned in his chair so that Harry could see that pale, sallow face's gray eyes staring at him.
Harry thought hard on what to say. What did he do? He couldn't let Snape know that he wasn't practicing, let alone even thinking about Occlumency or occluding his mind in the least bit, before Dumbledore ever mentioned it.
"I...er...I mean...we just wanted to...ask him some things that were going on in the Order," he replied, looking over to the wall right above Snape's left shoulder. He now knew not the look him directly in the eye, unless he favored Snape detecting his quick-thought lies. Or could he do it without looking into people's eyes? Was Snape that powerful at Legillimency?
"Oh, come on you foolish boy, it's obvious you've had a vision," he sneered, a smirk going along with the insult. "Why else would Weasley have come, rather than to make you," he added, shifting his icy stare to Ron, now. He fidgeted as this happened, and tore from his gaze as well. "And look at you, you're covered in your nauseating sweat. I was right, I knew you wouldn't have the brains to block out the Dark Lord, even after what happened to that god-forsaken godfather of yours."
Harry was glaring at his Potions professor, jaw set and fists clenched so tight that the nail indents from earlier were far worse than when overhearing the meeting. 'How dare you,' thought Harry, ' and after you even egged him on to do something like that. You have no place whatsoever to speak ill of him, even after that Pensieve session.' He was no longer looking at the floor, but his stare was attempting to burn into Snape's, hoping that he heard every bit of what Harry had said.
And luckily, from the look on the dreadful man's face, he read every single bit of it, and the last part seemed the most insulting to Snape. He was now glaring at Harry with such hatred, such a loathing, that his stare really did seem to be burning into Harry.
Ron now had a look of confusion upon his face, as he took notice of Snape's facial expressions change in an instant, not understanding that Harry had insulted him from inside his own head.
"How dare you! You insufferable little twit, you will never speak in that way to me ever again, or I'll be taking more than house-points once you're back at Hogwarts," Snape warned, his voice dangerously severe.
"Well then how about you never ever insulting Sirius in that way ever again!" retorted Harry.
There was nothing left to say, and just before he was about to leave, he'd realized he had openly let Snape read his mind, meaning that he most definitely saw his vision. Angry with his stupid move, he and Ron headed back to bed. They were on their floor when, in the pitch dark, Harry slammed into something solid.
"Ouch!" he cried, along with a swear word or two. He pulled out his wand, which he left in his pocket at all times, and was now in habit of doing so, even in Grimmauld Place.
"Damnit!" cried the solid figure in pain.
"Who's there?" asked Ron, talking thickly into the blackness.
"Who do you think it is?"
"Do you really think we'd know, seeing as it's the middle of the night, and completely dark and all," yelled Ron, directing his voice towards the person.
"It's Fred, you Flobberworm!" he cried, still rubbing his now bruised rib and whispering a Lumos to show them all in clear light.
"Why in Merlin's name are you wandering around at night like this?" shouted Ron, still trying to keep his voice somewhat to a dull roar.
"Well, me and George heard Harry, here, yelling, and then you two dashing down to the main floor, so I decided to come check it out. You, know, since last year when he had a dream about dad. George would've come, be he had to stay up there in case mum came wandering in, just to check on us," replied Fred, somewhat annoyed with the last part about his mum.
"So you came to eavesdrop on us, were you?" asked Ron, somewhat offended.
"Of course little bro!"
"Oh, c'mon, who really cares," said Harry, finally speaking for the first time. "Did you hear anything downstairs then?"
"Nope, I was just going down when you two came back. George and I had to choose between each other on who would come down, but since I had the privilege, now I'm stuck testing our latest idea, Supreme Slugs," said Fred, his tone hinting a bit of glumness.
"Supreme Slugs?" questioned Harry, the title sounding fairly explanatory.
"Yes, and we are thankful that Ron's little spell in 2nd year, you know, the one that backfired on Malfoy about slugs. Well, they are little candies that look like your innocent little gummy worms, but looks can be deceiving." added Fred with a smirk, now his voice becoming overpowered with amusement.
"That's nice, Fred, using my unfortunate spell as an invention," said Ron, trying to cover up his amusement.
"Oh, get over it, ickle Ronnie-kins, it was a superior little hex, and we've come up with a way for these Supreme Slugs to slide down your throat, but after doing so, they crawl back up, but multiply, depending on the color of them! I'm just warning you, to look out for the purple ones, those are by-far the nastiest," said Fred.
"That's great! But when are you doing all this, being here and not at the joke shop for the summer, being off and all?" asked Harry, who really was quite curious.
"You don't really think we go to bed that early do you?" said Fred schemingly.
Harry just smirked and Ron started to steer himself, and Harry back to their room.
"C'mon, Harry, lets go."
"Wait! What happened downstairs? I heard Harry and someone else yelling down there, and I didn't need the Extendable Ears to hear it, either," said Fred, wanting a reasonable answer from them.
"Well, Lupin's not here, since it's full moon and all," said Harry, feeling a twinge of guilt for not remembering. "So Dumbledore's sent someone else to stay up and stand guard."
"Who? Was Tonks or Mad-Eye down there? Why would you yell at them?"
"Nope, I wish it would've been them though."
"C'mon Harry, who?"
"It was Snape," admitted Ron, with a pure look of disgust upon his freckly face.
"I did, in fact, have a vision, and we were going to inform Lupin about it, but we ended up finding Snape instead. Then he went on to insult Sirius...and that's probably when you heard shouting," added Harry.
"Wow, and he had the nerve to insult him? In his own old house?" cried Fred, "stupid, slimy, filthy scum, git of a Professor and Order member!"
"Well, that's the old git for you," said Ron, his disgusted face deepening while attaining a slight red tint to his ears.
In the seconds they were silent, the three heard someone headed down the hall, their footsteps hurrying closer and closer.
"Who's there? Fred, George...are you two sneaking around again?" whispered Mrs. Weasley, her tone very harsh, but groggy.
"Goodnight you two!" said Fred, and with a turn, and a quick little pop! he was gone.
Harry and Ron ran down the hall, and since their room was in the direction of Mrs. Weasley, they did the only thing they could do, run the other way and stay out of sight till she went back to her own room.
Still searching frantically for a place to hide, they finally came across a room, which was thankfully unlocked, or, seemed to actually spring open as they ran towards it, and hurried in, quietly clicking the door closed behind them.
Ron muttered Lumos under his breath to give them a clear view of the room they'd come across. Both turned around and gasped as they took in all the features of the odd room.
"Why have we never come across this before?" Harry said, wondering aloud.
"I don't ever remember seeing this room here before," said Ron, his voice filled with amazement.
With a glance at each other and a nod, they decided to explore the room. Ron tried to make this the best conclusion because—
"Well, we are hiding from mum till she goes back, we might as well occupy ourselves while we wait! And what better than in this wicked room!"
The room was amazing. It had hundreds upon hundreds of defense books, along with hexes, curses, jinxes, and Dark Arts material. There were many different kinds of small gadgets spread throughout the room, some of them looking similar to the ones that Harry, himself, had smashed in Dumbledore's office, only a mere two months ago.
Ron searched throughout the books, looking for something good, and Harry decided to interest himself with the different Dark gadgets in the room. He took note of a few silver ones upon a small shelf, and a note on the shelf saying, Spy Objects. The shelves were dusty, and seemed to look like even Kreature, who already did a deprived job at cleaning, seemed to have been avoiding this room for possibly the entire time he ever lived to serve the Blacks'.
He was looking deeply into a geometrical shaped one, when Ron called him over to a book he had pulled down from a shelf.
"Harry! Look at this!" Ron cried, admiring the book greatly.
"What is it?"
"It's called Hexes, Jinxes, and Curses: A Guide to Your Most Complex, But Useful Spells. We could definitely take a look at this sometime! There are some excellent ones in here that would put Malfoy and those thugs of his right!" said Ron, his face filled with glee, as though he could have all the Honeyduke's candy he wanted—for free.
"That's great! I'm sure some of those could definitely fit nicely with the Acne hex!" said Harry, who was already scanning the room, trying to find something else to look at.
He had almost scanned around the entire room, when his gaze fell upon a small corner, which had a few pictures hanging in it's small little space.
He walked away from Ron, who was in mid-sentence, reading a jinx off to Harry.
"Yeah, cool," Harry added thickly, walking towards the corner. Ron just shrugged and read on.
The corner was also dusty, but even more so than the rest of the unkept room. The pictures were inside golden frames, and looked very expensive.
Inside one, was a man with long dark hair tied back, who's color and length looked identical to Sirius', and had the same structure to his face. He also had a black mustache, which curled up at the ends. He looked very well groomed. He didn't smile, or even move, he just blinked up at Harry in a menacing way.
In another picture, there was three young girls, who looked like extremely young versions of Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Malfoy, and another girl who must've been a young version of Sirius' favorite cousin, Andromeda. They all smiled up from the frame, their eyes young and innocent, full of love and innocence, and nothing more. They smiled and waved happily at Harry.
And in the last one, was a man who looked somewhat like Sirius, who had the same face structure as him too, but the hair was a light shade of brown, and was even longer and rattier than Sirius' had even been. Harry assumed that this man must be Regulus, his god-father's younger brother, who was a Death Eater. And right next to him, was Sirius himself, who looked very forlorn in the picture and didn't wave, but merely stared at Harry, Sirius' revulsion toward his family showing through in the picture with his brother. Although, looking angry, Sirius looked completely different, his face was young and full of color. His eyes were completely bright, and not sunken in in the slightest bit. He was very good-looking, even for such a young age, and looked like he had a good physique, he was still quite skinny, but not nearly as much so as when he'd escaped from Azkaban.
At that moment, Harry had realized why he had hated this house so much. He knew before, but never had a complete understanding of it. This house probably flooded back memories to him, all, Harry was sure, miserable and probably quite painful. He felt so horrible at the thought of him being stuck here, in this infinite reminder of all of them. He didn't feel pity, because he knew that Sirius would be upset at the thought of his godson taking pity on him. He felt understanding, and with that, he motioned to Ron, who reluctantly set down his book, and they headed out the door.
The next morning Harry woke up early, not getting much sleep last night, even after his return to bed. As soon as he closed his eyes, the picture of Sirius' gloomy, miserable face staring up at him. He realized they lived somewhat of a similar childhood. Stuck with the worst people in the world, who treated him horribly and unproven. They both hated the places they were each stuck in, locked in, like prison, like Azkaban. Harry felt such a rush of gratitude for him, for being able to cope with his prison, Grimmauld Place. And before actually drifting off into a very troubled sleep, a tear ran down his cheek; he was now truly missing his godfather more than ever before.
