Chapter 10
For a moment longer, Sirius stood in the doorway, one hand clutching Harry's shoulder for support simply staring in amazement at his godson. It was not until this moment seeing Harry alive and in the flesh that he realized how much he had truly doubted that he would ever see the boy alive again. It was with this thought in mind that he released Harry's shoulder and pulled him in to a bone-cracking embrace.
"We were so worried when we got your note," He stated quietly. "Once we saw your house and that of the Grangers, we could only assume the worst."
"Gerroff, gerroff Padfoot," Harry's voice stated, muffled as his face was pressed tightly to Sirius's chest.
Sirius loosened his hold but did not let go completely. He seemed to be afraid that if he let go of Harry, the boy would simply melt in to mist.
"What do you mean when you say "saw your house"? What happened? The house was fine when I left in the afternoon."
Sirius clenched his jaw at the thought of just how closely Harry had avoided falling in to the clutches of the Death Eaters and their terrible master.
"Oh, its you, is it?"
The somewhat grumpy voice brought Sirius's gaze from Harry's face to glance at the three people who were standing on the stoop just behind Harry. With yet another surge of relief, he was greeted with the sight of Hermione Granger and her parents, alive and well. It was Scott Granger who had spoken, and Sirius nodded at him briefly before remembering that they had obviously had a long day.
Keeping one arm around his godson, he motioned for everyone to enter the house after him.
Once the door had closed and the dark musty aroma of the house reached their nostrils, Sirius told them quietly to follow him with as little noise as possible. He raised his wand and began to lead the way back along the path he had so recently traversed.
He was grateful to see that the curtains concealing the oh-so-pleasant portrait of his mother were still closed, and he hastened to lead the small party past it and in to the spacious living room. From there, he was able to make out the very faint glow of the light from the end of a wand issuing from the door to the basement which stood ajar. Again, he nodded to his guests and led the way down the narrow stone steps, emerging finally in to a somewhat spacious room with an assortment of tables and chairs lining the wall, and an old cook stove tucked carelessly in to one corner. Dumbledore, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley were inspecting the room when the rest of the group trudged in.
"Ah, Mr. Potter! Ms. Granger! Mr. and Mrs. Granger! How absolutely wonderful to see you all alive and unharmed," Dumbledore greeted them, beaming wider than ever.
"Actually, Mum got hit with Cruciatus," Hermione told her headmaster in a concerned voice.
Some of the twinkle left Dumbledore's eyes and he strode forward laying a gnarled hand on Mrs. Granger's shoulder.
"Perhaps you would care to sit down, Mrs. Granger," he invited, conjuring a leather recliner for her which she gratefully accepted.
"Actually, Albus, it might be a better idea for her to lie down until we can get Madam Pomfrey to come look at her or can get Severus to brew a post-Cruciatus potion to help her," Lupin said.
After a quick consultation, Lupin levitated Mrs. Granger out of the kitchen upstairs to one of the bedrooms with Mr. Granger following behind.
The rest seated themselves in some of the hard-backed chairs that were in abundance in the kitchen to wait for Lupin's return. It took about ten minutes.
"Ah, Remus. Everyone is comfortable I assume," Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, Albus. I did a few cleaning spells on one of the bedrooms and made them as comfortable as I could. I also happened to run across Kreacher on my way back down here and made it clear to him that he was to stay away from that room."
Sirius grunted his approval. Finally, Dumbledore leaned forward and examined Harry carefully through his glasses.
"I assume by now, Harry, you know that your relatives' home was also attacked. It appears to have been shortly after you left to go to Ms. Granger's home. Unfortunately, Mrs. Arabella Figg was killed as she went to see why the wards were breaking down. She will be sorely missed."
Dumbledore bowed his head for a moment, but Harry had stopped listening, flabbergasted in spite of himself to learn that his batty old neighbor had been a which. After all, he knew of no other Mrs. Figg.
"I am sorry, Professor," Harry mumbled, knowing that another person had died for him, in spite of all he could do. He pushed the guilt to the back of his mind for now. There would be time for that later.
"The Dursleys went to visit Aunt Marge," he told Dumbledore, "didn't want me to go with them, not after what happened last time she and I met." This comment drew a short chuckle from Sirius.
"Yes, Harry, but that was inexcusable. They should never have left you alone for that length of time in that house. Your aunt was informed on the day they took you in that any lengthy absence without taking you with them would cause the wards to decay. That was for their own protection as well as yours. But, it is too late to worry about that now.
"Harry," the headmaster continued after a moment. "I am most interested to learn how you were able to defeat the Death Eaters at the Grangers' home. But first," he continued, eyes lighting on the cylinder attached to the boy's belt, "what, pray tell, is that?"
Instead of answering, Harry stood up, moved to a clear spot in the room, drew the lightsaber, and ignited the brilliant golden blade. Gasps were heard by all, even though the Grangers had caught a brief glimpse of the weapon earlier and had seen it deflect a Killing Curse.
Hermione was the first to recover from her shock.
"Harry, that's a lightsaber like from Star Wars," she said, awe apparent in her voice.
Harry nodded in agreement.
"Harry," Dumbledore said in a slow voice, as if measuring every word carefully. "I need you to tell me everything from the beginning. It is vital to know how you came in to the possession of such a ... a unique weapon. And also, as I appear to have missed this Star Wars, perhaps you can fill me in on that as well."
Harry deactivated the blade and attached the handle to his belt once more. Sitting back down, he related a slightly modified version of the events leading up to his rescue of the Grangers. He did not, for instance, mention that he had an instructor who came every night to teach him, an instructor who was from what most people assumed was a legendary story in Star Wars. Instead, he led his captivated audience to believe that he had suddenly been hit with the knowledge of how to use these powers and how to build a lightsaber. If he had been asked, Harry would not have been able to explain why he did this. There was no reason, after all, to protect the knowledge that Kenobi was teaching him.
No one noticed the short shadow that crept in to the entrance of the kitchen and began listening part way through the narrative. Not even Harry's senses warned him of this particular danger, having been lulled in to security as he was reunited with the rest of his pseudo-family. It went unnoticed when Kreacher snapped his fingers and vanished, only to appear seconds later in the sitting room of one Narcissa Black-Malfoy.
"Harry," Dumbledore said once Harry had completed his story. "While I do not doubt any of what you have told me, I must insist on taking your saber in for inspection for any jinxes or curses."
"But sir," Harry said, mouth agape and staring at the headmaster as if he had grown horns. "I told you how I made the weapon. Surely you don't possibly think---"
"I must be sure, Harry. With Voldemort back, one can not be too cautious with such unique items." Dumbledore took out his wand, waved it, and the lightsaber detached itself from Harry's belt and floated in to Dumbledore's outstretched hand. Harry knew he could summon it back, but what was the point? The old man would simply summon it again, and the check for jinxes would be delayed even longer than it otherwise would. Besides, the stern set of Dumbledore's jaw told Harry that any argument would be shot down immediately. He looked from Dumbledore, to Sirius, to Lupin, and finally to Mr. Weasley looking for some verbal support. However, the grim expressions on the faces of the men assured Harry that he would be getting no help from them.
"Sir," he pleaded with Dumbledore, "please don't take it apart. IF any of the components are damaged, I won't be able to replace them."
Dumbledore only looked at him. Sighing, Harry dropped his arms to his sides in defeat. As he did so, his hand bumped something hard in his pocket. Pulling it out, he finally smiled. Here, after all, was something to be happy about.
"Lucius Malfoy's wand," Harry said, drawing the stick of wood from his pocket. He held out his hand, and again the old man summoned it to him.
"Excellent work, Harry. We should be able to see the last curse that Lucius performed with it. What is it, Mr. Weasley?"
Arthur Weasley had suddenly sprung to his feet, a look of terror on his face.
"If Harry and Hermione were attacked, it stands to reason that The Burrow will be attacked too, as Ron is one of Harry's best friends!"
Harry sprang to follow him, heart hammering in his chest, ignoring Sirius's voice which told him to stay where he was and let the older men handle things. How could he have forgotten Ron? Ignoring his previous resolve, Harry stuck out his hand and the lightsaber shot from Dumbledore's belt in to his palm. As he felt the comfortable weight of the weapon clutched in his hand, he decided that the saber would be staying with him from now on. Dumbledore would just have to trust him that the weapon was safe. There was no way he or any other member of his staff would be taking it apart. Certainly, Harry would never place his beloved weapon in a position where one Severus Snape might get his extremely greasy hands on it.
Nothing else mattered as he scrambled to follow after Mr. Weasley, who had scrambled to the fireplace, lighting a fire as he went.
"Harry," came Hermione's concerned voice as he reached for the pot of Floo powder, "Mr. Weasley and Professor Dumbledore can handle things. You need to stay where it is safe."
Harry didn't reply, feeling awful for making her worry. Yet, he knew he had to go. Ron would do the same for him or Hermione, after all.
"Harry, no!" This time, it was Lupin who shouted. However, Harry had already grabbed a handful of Floo powder and disappeared within the green flames before the echo of Lupin's shout had died away.
"Stay here, the both of you," Dumbledore said in his sternest voice.
Concentrating, the headmaster disappeared with a pop, leaving the remaining occupants of twelve, Grimmauld Place, to wring their hands in worry and dismay, waiting for the others to return.
TBC
For a moment longer, Sirius stood in the doorway, one hand clutching Harry's shoulder for support simply staring in amazement at his godson. It was not until this moment seeing Harry alive and in the flesh that he realized how much he had truly doubted that he would ever see the boy alive again. It was with this thought in mind that he released Harry's shoulder and pulled him in to a bone-cracking embrace.
"We were so worried when we got your note," He stated quietly. "Once we saw your house and that of the Grangers, we could only assume the worst."
"Gerroff, gerroff Padfoot," Harry's voice stated, muffled as his face was pressed tightly to Sirius's chest.
Sirius loosened his hold but did not let go completely. He seemed to be afraid that if he let go of Harry, the boy would simply melt in to mist.
"What do you mean when you say "saw your house"? What happened? The house was fine when I left in the afternoon."
Sirius clenched his jaw at the thought of just how closely Harry had avoided falling in to the clutches of the Death Eaters and their terrible master.
"Oh, its you, is it?"
The somewhat grumpy voice brought Sirius's gaze from Harry's face to glance at the three people who were standing on the stoop just behind Harry. With yet another surge of relief, he was greeted with the sight of Hermione Granger and her parents, alive and well. It was Scott Granger who had spoken, and Sirius nodded at him briefly before remembering that they had obviously had a long day.
Keeping one arm around his godson, he motioned for everyone to enter the house after him.
Once the door had closed and the dark musty aroma of the house reached their nostrils, Sirius told them quietly to follow him with as little noise as possible. He raised his wand and began to lead the way back along the path he had so recently traversed.
He was grateful to see that the curtains concealing the oh-so-pleasant portrait of his mother were still closed, and he hastened to lead the small party past it and in to the spacious living room. From there, he was able to make out the very faint glow of the light from the end of a wand issuing from the door to the basement which stood ajar. Again, he nodded to his guests and led the way down the narrow stone steps, emerging finally in to a somewhat spacious room with an assortment of tables and chairs lining the wall, and an old cook stove tucked carelessly in to one corner. Dumbledore, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley were inspecting the room when the rest of the group trudged in.
"Ah, Mr. Potter! Ms. Granger! Mr. and Mrs. Granger! How absolutely wonderful to see you all alive and unharmed," Dumbledore greeted them, beaming wider than ever.
"Actually, Mum got hit with Cruciatus," Hermione told her headmaster in a concerned voice.
Some of the twinkle left Dumbledore's eyes and he strode forward laying a gnarled hand on Mrs. Granger's shoulder.
"Perhaps you would care to sit down, Mrs. Granger," he invited, conjuring a leather recliner for her which she gratefully accepted.
"Actually, Albus, it might be a better idea for her to lie down until we can get Madam Pomfrey to come look at her or can get Severus to brew a post-Cruciatus potion to help her," Lupin said.
After a quick consultation, Lupin levitated Mrs. Granger out of the kitchen upstairs to one of the bedrooms with Mr. Granger following behind.
The rest seated themselves in some of the hard-backed chairs that were in abundance in the kitchen to wait for Lupin's return. It took about ten minutes.
"Ah, Remus. Everyone is comfortable I assume," Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, Albus. I did a few cleaning spells on one of the bedrooms and made them as comfortable as I could. I also happened to run across Kreacher on my way back down here and made it clear to him that he was to stay away from that room."
Sirius grunted his approval. Finally, Dumbledore leaned forward and examined Harry carefully through his glasses.
"I assume by now, Harry, you know that your relatives' home was also attacked. It appears to have been shortly after you left to go to Ms. Granger's home. Unfortunately, Mrs. Arabella Figg was killed as she went to see why the wards were breaking down. She will be sorely missed."
Dumbledore bowed his head for a moment, but Harry had stopped listening, flabbergasted in spite of himself to learn that his batty old neighbor had been a which. After all, he knew of no other Mrs. Figg.
"I am sorry, Professor," Harry mumbled, knowing that another person had died for him, in spite of all he could do. He pushed the guilt to the back of his mind for now. There would be time for that later.
"The Dursleys went to visit Aunt Marge," he told Dumbledore, "didn't want me to go with them, not after what happened last time she and I met." This comment drew a short chuckle from Sirius.
"Yes, Harry, but that was inexcusable. They should never have left you alone for that length of time in that house. Your aunt was informed on the day they took you in that any lengthy absence without taking you with them would cause the wards to decay. That was for their own protection as well as yours. But, it is too late to worry about that now.
"Harry," the headmaster continued after a moment. "I am most interested to learn how you were able to defeat the Death Eaters at the Grangers' home. But first," he continued, eyes lighting on the cylinder attached to the boy's belt, "what, pray tell, is that?"
Instead of answering, Harry stood up, moved to a clear spot in the room, drew the lightsaber, and ignited the brilliant golden blade. Gasps were heard by all, even though the Grangers had caught a brief glimpse of the weapon earlier and had seen it deflect a Killing Curse.
Hermione was the first to recover from her shock.
"Harry, that's a lightsaber like from Star Wars," she said, awe apparent in her voice.
Harry nodded in agreement.
"Harry," Dumbledore said in a slow voice, as if measuring every word carefully. "I need you to tell me everything from the beginning. It is vital to know how you came in to the possession of such a ... a unique weapon. And also, as I appear to have missed this Star Wars, perhaps you can fill me in on that as well."
Harry deactivated the blade and attached the handle to his belt once more. Sitting back down, he related a slightly modified version of the events leading up to his rescue of the Grangers. He did not, for instance, mention that he had an instructor who came every night to teach him, an instructor who was from what most people assumed was a legendary story in Star Wars. Instead, he led his captivated audience to believe that he had suddenly been hit with the knowledge of how to use these powers and how to build a lightsaber. If he had been asked, Harry would not have been able to explain why he did this. There was no reason, after all, to protect the knowledge that Kenobi was teaching him.
No one noticed the short shadow that crept in to the entrance of the kitchen and began listening part way through the narrative. Not even Harry's senses warned him of this particular danger, having been lulled in to security as he was reunited with the rest of his pseudo-family. It went unnoticed when Kreacher snapped his fingers and vanished, only to appear seconds later in the sitting room of one Narcissa Black-Malfoy.
"Harry," Dumbledore said once Harry had completed his story. "While I do not doubt any of what you have told me, I must insist on taking your saber in for inspection for any jinxes or curses."
"But sir," Harry said, mouth agape and staring at the headmaster as if he had grown horns. "I told you how I made the weapon. Surely you don't possibly think---"
"I must be sure, Harry. With Voldemort back, one can not be too cautious with such unique items." Dumbledore took out his wand, waved it, and the lightsaber detached itself from Harry's belt and floated in to Dumbledore's outstretched hand. Harry knew he could summon it back, but what was the point? The old man would simply summon it again, and the check for jinxes would be delayed even longer than it otherwise would. Besides, the stern set of Dumbledore's jaw told Harry that any argument would be shot down immediately. He looked from Dumbledore, to Sirius, to Lupin, and finally to Mr. Weasley looking for some verbal support. However, the grim expressions on the faces of the men assured Harry that he would be getting no help from them.
"Sir," he pleaded with Dumbledore, "please don't take it apart. IF any of the components are damaged, I won't be able to replace them."
Dumbledore only looked at him. Sighing, Harry dropped his arms to his sides in defeat. As he did so, his hand bumped something hard in his pocket. Pulling it out, he finally smiled. Here, after all, was something to be happy about.
"Lucius Malfoy's wand," Harry said, drawing the stick of wood from his pocket. He held out his hand, and again the old man summoned it to him.
"Excellent work, Harry. We should be able to see the last curse that Lucius performed with it. What is it, Mr. Weasley?"
Arthur Weasley had suddenly sprung to his feet, a look of terror on his face.
"If Harry and Hermione were attacked, it stands to reason that The Burrow will be attacked too, as Ron is one of Harry's best friends!"
Harry sprang to follow him, heart hammering in his chest, ignoring Sirius's voice which told him to stay where he was and let the older men handle things. How could he have forgotten Ron? Ignoring his previous resolve, Harry stuck out his hand and the lightsaber shot from Dumbledore's belt in to his palm. As he felt the comfortable weight of the weapon clutched in his hand, he decided that the saber would be staying with him from now on. Dumbledore would just have to trust him that the weapon was safe. There was no way he or any other member of his staff would be taking it apart. Certainly, Harry would never place his beloved weapon in a position where one Severus Snape might get his extremely greasy hands on it.
Nothing else mattered as he scrambled to follow after Mr. Weasley, who had scrambled to the fireplace, lighting a fire as he went.
"Harry," came Hermione's concerned voice as he reached for the pot of Floo powder, "Mr. Weasley and Professor Dumbledore can handle things. You need to stay where it is safe."
Harry didn't reply, feeling awful for making her worry. Yet, he knew he had to go. Ron would do the same for him or Hermione, after all.
"Harry, no!" This time, it was Lupin who shouted. However, Harry had already grabbed a handful of Floo powder and disappeared within the green flames before the echo of Lupin's shout had died away.
"Stay here, the both of you," Dumbledore said in his sternest voice.
Concentrating, the headmaster disappeared with a pop, leaving the remaining occupants of twelve, Grimmauld Place, to wring their hands in worry and dismay, waiting for the others to return.
TBC