Chapter Three: Truth and Lies

Harry entered number twelve Grimmauld Place, followed by Remus, Arthur Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, and was immediately engulfed in strong arms that pulled him against a soft breast.

Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Harry, dear! It's so good to see you!"

Harry buried his face in her shoulder, hugging her in return, and mumbled something against her oddly knit sweater. The elder Weasleys always wore colorful clothing, and this sweater of hers was one of Harry's favorites. Made of mismatched bits of wool, it was a kaleidoscope of color, and very homey.

To Harry, it symbolized the maternal affection he'd never really had. Mrs. Weasley had been wearing this particular sweater the day she'd held him close after the Tri-Wizard tournament...

Harry sighed. He was home.

"Mum! You'll suffocate him!" Harry heard Ron's voice from the stairs.

Molly immediately pulled back, looking at him.

"You're too thin, Harry dear. What is that muggle woman thinking? A boy of your age needs to eat..."

As Molly muttered, Harry looked up to see three of his favorite people standing on the stairs, looking down.

Ron, very obviously well fed... the contours of his face beginning to show the man he would become. He was broader than Harry, but not much taller, and had a huge grin on his face.

And under a head of bushy brown hair, Hermione Granger and her signature smile. Hermione's smile had been a great comfort to Harry over the years. In the darkest times, he could think of this witch, the closest thing he had to a sister, and things seemed somehow better.

And standing behind those two, a few stairs further up in the shadows...

"Hi, Harry."

Ginny. She had been occupying his thoughts lately, as well. But in a totally different way than Hermione.

She smiled, and Harry swallowed.

Oh, yes. A very different way.

"Move on in, then, Harry," Remus said from behind him.

Harry, realizing that he was blocking the hall, quickly tore his eyes from Ron's little sister and moved forward, his cheeks flaming.

"Come on, then, Harry," Ron said. "With the twins not here this year, Mum's given us each our own room..."

Harry glanced at Molly, wondering if it was truly because the twins wouldn't be joining them here, or if it had more to do with the nightmares. The nightmares that had continued after Sirius' death, for over a year now, and that he'd been talking to Remus and Ron about. Those two were the only ones he'd told, but it was possible that Ron had told his mother, or that Remus had mentioned it, even. After the end of the previous summer when he and Ron had shared a room and Harry had woken his friend most nights with his tossing and turning and calling out, Harry thought he wouldn't be surprised if Ron had asked his mother for his own room. At least at school he could put a silencing charm around his bed.

"Fred and George aren't staying?" Harry asked as he followed the others up the stairs.

"Nah," Ron said. "They stop by, but they've got the flat over the shop done now, and they've been living there. Mum's ticked."

"I would have thought she'd be relieved," Hermione said dryly. "No more unexplained explosions."

"Yeah, but now she can't hear them at all," Ron snickered. "She has no idea of what they're up to, and she's in a right state, not knowing whether to be worried or relieved."

"So, which rooms have we got, then?" Harry asked.

"Well, Ginny and Hermione are still sharing, and I'm in our old room, but you're in where Fred and George were, across from..." Ron stilled, his ears turning beet red.

"Across from Sirius' room. It's okay, Ron," Harry said quietly. "I still have the occasional nightmare, but they're really not so bad, anymore. I think I'm getting used to them."

After an awkward moment's hesitation, Ron nodded and followed Harry as he led the way down the hall to the rather larger room that Fred and George had shared the year before. Harry noted the two single beds had been made into a double, and wondered how long the Weasleys had been in residence.

"Has Hedwig turned up?" Harry asked, placing his trunk at the bottom of the bed.

"No, not yet, mate," Ron said, walking to the window and opening it. "She'll know you're here, though."

"I told her I'd be here... she's been gone since yesterday morning. Hunting must be good."

"Leave her cage open, she'll probably be in it by tonight," Hermione commented.

"How long have you lot been here, then?" Harry asked absently as he opened his trunk and began to unpack.

Ron shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other, and Ginny and Hermione glanced at each other, Hermione from where she sat on Harry's bed and Ginny from her perch on the desk.

"What?" Harry asked, noticing the awkward feel in the room.

"Well, we've been here all summer," Hermione admitted.

"All summer?" Harry said. He turned to Ron, "But when we met last week, you didn't say..."

"Didn't want to upset you, Harry," Ron said sheepishly. "I know how bad it is for you with the muggles, and... I'm sorry."

"Ron, it's fine, really," Harry said. "I'm just surprised. Didn't your parents mind, Hermione?"

"Well..." Hermione glanced between Ron and Harry. "Not really. They were rather hoping to come and spend some time here..."

"Oh..." Harry looked confused. The three of them were acting very odd. "What? Why are you three pussy footing around? What is it?"

"Well..." Hermione colored. "They rather thought they'd wait for an invitation, Harry, and..."

Harry's confused glance darted to Ron, then Ginny, then back to Hermione.

"Mione?" Harry met her eyes. "What's going on?"

"Harry..." Hermione took a breath. "I'd like my parents to come for a few days. Would that be okay?"

Harry was still confused. "Why are you asking me? It's not up to me."

"Well... I..." Hermione seemed confused now. She was certainly uncomfortable.

"Well, it is, really," Ginny said.

"How is it up to me?" Harry asked, turning on the redhead seated so pertly on his desk.

"Well, it's your home, Harry," Ginny said.

"My home?" Harry said. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

"Grimmauld Place..." Ron said, flustered. "Sirius left it to you..."

"He what?" Harry sat heavily down on the side of his bed.

"You mean you didn't know?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry looked at them, dumbfounded.

"When?" he asked, a horrible suspicion taking shape. "When, Hermione?"

"Well, I don't know, exactly," she said. "But wizarding law states that a will must be read within three months of death..."

"And when Sirius..."

"There were several witnesses to his..." Hermione winced. "To his falling through the veil, Harry. I would assume that by the end of last summer..."

"The end of last...?" Harry took a breath. Right around the time he'd threatened to kill Kreacher with his bare hands.

"When..." Harry swallowed. "How did you find out?"

"We overheard Mum and Dad..." Ron said. "Harry, we thought you knew. We just assumed that you..."

"We thought you weren't talking about it because you were still upset," said Ginny.

Harry nodded. "So you've been here all summer?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded.

"And so you've seen Kreacher?"

"Not..." Ron glanced nervously at the girls. "Not directly."

"Not directly?" Harry asked.

"Well, we know he's here," Hermione said. "But we haven't actually seen him."

"Then how do you know that he's still here?" Harry asked quietly.

"Because he sets that bloody painting off every bloody night," said Ginny darkly.

"Mum's been trying to...." Ron began, only to be stopped by Harry, who rose and headed for the door. "Harry? Where are you going?"

"To do what I told Dumbledore I would do if I ever saw that beast again," Harry said, not turning back.

Harry fumed as he strode down the stairs. Sirius had left him this house and no one had seen fit to tell him. One more thing he had to place at Dumbledore's door. Once again, he was being treated like a child, manipulated by the old wizard like a bloody chess piece.

Well, if Dumbledore thought...

"Ah, Harry," Remus stuck his head out of the study door as Harry approached. "A word?"

"Is Dumbledore in there?" Harry asked the werewolf in a low, dangerous voice.

Lupin's face showed his surprise.

"Ah... no... but..." He took in the look on Harry's face and stepped back. "But perhaps we need to talk..."

"About Sirius' will, Remus?" Harry asked bitingly. "Or about that demented house elf?"

"Ah," Remus nodded. "So you've heard."

"Did you think that I wouldn't?"

"Well, I admit to being curious as to how your friends found out, but no, Harry. I was absolutely certain that, if they knew, then you would, as well."

"Yet you kept it from me?"

"There are reasons, Harry."

"Really?" Harry spat. "Strange how no one thought to share them with me."

"Harry, if you come in and let me explain..."

"I'm sorry, Professor Lupin," Harry turned toward the kitchens. "I have a house elf to take care of. You might want to get one of those plaques ready."

"Harry!" Remus began, stepping out into the hallway as Harry moved away.

"It's all right, Remus," Dumbledore's voice came from the end of the hallway. "I'll speak to Harry."

"With all due respect, sir," Harry said coldly. "We're done speaking."

He turned back towards the door to the kitchens.

"Harry, I really do think we need to talk. Please, trust me..."

Harry stopped, then spun around. "Trust you? Are you joking?"

Dumbledore merely stood, looking at him.

"You're mad," Harry continued. "In case you've forgotten, Professor, we've had this conversation before. You told me that you wouldn't keep things from me any longer!"

"Yes," the old wizard agreed, looking at Harry over the top of his half-moon glasses. "I did, Harry."

"And then, you go and do it again!"

"Harry..."

"How can you expect me to trust you, Professor, when you continually lie to me?"

"Harry..."

"At what point were you going to tell me?"

"When we got out of Kreacher the information that we need," said Dumbledore.

"What?"

"He couldn't be allowed to believe that you were his master, Harry."

"And why not?"

"Because you are not a pureblood wizard, and he would never have been capable of being bound to you."

"So you lied to me? Again?"

"Kreacher was given to believe that a pureblood had inherited the Black fortune. We chose to do this so that we might use him to... plant information, through Narcissa Malfoy."

"Who?"

"Remus. It was... viable... that Sirius would leave everything to Remus. Remus' family is a very old one. Eventually, we hoped that Kreacher would..."

"I don't care." Harry stated firmly. "I do not care. You lied to me!"

"Harry..."

"Did it ever occur to you to simply tell me the truth? Did you think I couldn't be relied upon to..."

"Harry, it was necessary..."

"You know, Professor, it's rather ironic that the only person whose motives I trust any longer are Voldemort's. He's my enemy, the one I have to kill, but at least I know where I stand with him. Strange that, isn't it?"

With that, Harry turned and walked away, leaving a dumbfounded Remus and a silent Dumbledore behind him.

It was a full minute before Remus spoke.

"We've made a terrible, terrible mistake, Albus," he said quietly.

"I do believe that you may be correct, Remus," Dumbledore agreed, nodding his head.

"Harry love, what are you doing down here?" Molly turned from the stove as he entered the kitchens.

"Looking for that malignant house elf. Have you seen it?"

"Kreacher?" Molly asked weakly. "Why do you want him?"

"I've come to grant the bloody thing it's wish," Harry said bitingly. "It wants to join its ancestors, and I told Dumbledore that if it was here when I returned, I would kill it."

"Harry, dear..." Molly bustled forward.

"No, Mrs. Weasley," Harry backed away. "No."

"Harry?" Molly Weasley's eyes misted. The look on the boy's face was one of complete mistrust. There were tears in his eyes, and it broke her heart.

"You lied to me, too," he said softly.

Molly winced. "Harry..."

"Do you know what it's like to trust no one?" he whispered. "To find that the few people you have let in have been lying to you? The few people... the family you thought you'd never have? How it feels when they, too, betray you?"

"Harry," Molly sat down at the table. "I take it you've found out about the will."

"Ron and Ginny told me," he said. "They thought I knew. They thought I was being... but that doesn't..."

"Harry, please..." Molly folded her hands on the table, looking down at them. "Try to understand..."

"No."

"We've been fighting him for over twenty years, Harry. Seen countless friends and... family..." Molly's voice hitched. The Prewitt line had been a long one, and it was nearly gone now. "My own brothers... their wives and children... Do you think that we wouldn't do anything to tip the balance in our favor?"

"Mrs. Weasley, it's not you who has to do that."

She looked confused, but the resigned look on Harry's face made her hesitate.

"Harry?"

"Dumbledore hasn't told you, has he?"

"Told me what?" she asked.

Harry looked into her brown eyes. They were so very much like Ginny's.

"Mrs. Weasley..." Harry sat down across from her. "I have to be the one."

"What?"

"I have to be the one. That was what was in the Department of Mysteries. A prophecy."

"What?" If anything, her voice was quieter. Harry had never seen her like this. She'd gone pale. Molly Weasley always got louder the more upset she was. This Molly looked strained, as though she somehow knew she wasn't going to like what she was about to hear.

"Harry..." Harry and Molly both turned to the doorway where Dumbledore stood. "I don't think..."

"I no longer care what you think," Harry said. "Mrs. Weasley is the closest thing I've got to a mother, Professor. Are you telling me that you'd have kept something like this from my mother?"

Dumbledore looked incredibly sad. "Harry, you need to consider this carefully."

"I have. I trust her."

Harry's tone added what Dumbledore already suspected. His trust in the headmaster was gone.

"Molly, please understand..." Dumbledore began.

"Albus, Harry's like one of my own. I've not felt right lying to him, and you know it. But you told us that we'd be able to..."

"Molly..."

"No, Albus. No more," Molly shook her head, and turned back to Harry. "Harry, love, you don't need to tell me any more, but understand this... it's over. I will not lie to you or keep things from you again. I'm sorry."

Harry nodded, then turned to the Headmaster.

"So, I understand that Grimmauld Place now belongs to me?"

"As of your seventeenth birthday, yes, Harry."

"So, where does that leave us?"

"I don't understand?"

"I mean," Harry was finding this very difficult. He'd been well trained by the Dursley's to never question authority, and it had only been his anger that had carried him through this far. "I mean, as you are using my house as headquarters, and as I am now an of-age wizard, do I get to sit in on your secret meetings, or are we going to continue to work against each other?"

"Harry, I do not believe that we have been counter..."

"Yes, we have, Albus," Harry said. "I'm the one with the mental connection to him, remember?"

Dumbledore held his gaze for a moment before speaking.

"Of course I remember, Harry."

"Then, perhaps we can work together now?" Harry asked bitterly. "Perhaps, as it is prophesized that I either have to kill him or die trying, you might share what you know with me, so that I might have a better than even chance at surviving long enough to have a life?"

Molly gasped and Dumbledore flinched.

"Harry..."

"Because either way, you know that I have to be the one. And if you aren't going to help me, I'll have to assume that you're against me. And if that is the case, I might begin to wonder all sorts of things."

Dumbledore stared at him, long and hard, and then nodded, once, decisively. "Very well, Harry."

"Good. When is the next Order meeting?"

"Tonight," he said. "I was going to go back to the school for a few hours, then return for the meeting this evening."

"There can't be any more secrets, Professor," Harry said softly. "I need to know who is on my side."

"I understand, Harry," the old Headmaster nodded. "I do. I'll take my leave now."

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry."

"I can guarantee you that that bloody house elf knows now who owns this place."

"Yes, I'm sure he does, Harry."

"So I own it, as well, right?"

"You do," Dumbledore nodded, "But I doubt that you will ever have loyalty from the creature, Harry."

"No, I highly doubt it myself," Harry said in a rather flat voice. "So, either you take it with you, now, Professor, or by the time you return, it will be dead."

"Harry..."

"I won't have it here, I'm sorry."

"Very well, Harry," Dumbledore nodded, stepping towards Harry and taking a hand from a deep pocket of his robes. He pulled out a money bag and took out a galleon, placing it on the table in front of Harry.

"You will sell him to me?"

"I don't want your money. Take it."

"It must be a transaction, Harry. A house elf cannot be given as a gift."

Harry took the coin, and held on to it tightly. So tightly that he could feel the ridges of the engraving against the flesh of his palm.

"Kreacher!" Dumbledore called in a booming voice. "You belong to me, now. You will follow."

As soon as Dumbledore had left, Molly turned shocked eyes onto Harry.

"Harry, love..."

"Not right now, Mrs. Weasley," Harry stood. "I know we have to talk, but not right now, please?"

"Later, then."

"No more secrets, right?" He asked quietly as he turned towards the door.

"No more secrets, Harry," she confirmed.

"Thank you."

Harry retreated to the staircase, which he climbed quickly, heading for his room. As he entered, he closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, looking at his friends, who were huddled together on the bed, looking up at him as though he had just interrupted their conversation. A conversation about him.

"Harry...?" Hermione began, sitting up straight at his entrance, her worried eyes scanning his face.

Harry looked at them, hard.

"Ron, can you get the twins here?" he asked after a moment.

"Sure, Harry, what's up?" Ron stood.

"We need to talk," Harry sighed. "We really need to talk."

Well, my lovely readers, eighteen reviews! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Keep them coming, because they keep me writing! I have to thank my other reason for continuing to write, as well. James Milamber has kindly agreed to be my beta, and while we all wish he would stop betaing other peoples work (except mine, of course!) and get along with writing more and more (because "some" is never enough!) of Harry Potter and the Mind Mage, I assure you, I will not take up too much of his time. James, you've been truly wonderful for me, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Some reviewers seemed concerned over Ginny's apparent behavior. Remember, the point of this fic is TRUST, and Ginny has been doing something, perhaps with the best of intentions, but something that is mildly... well, maybe not so mildly, dishonest. Let's see where that takes us, hmmm? Besides, I warned you (grin)!

CQ

Shotgunn: Let's concern ourselves with this "next" for now! And OF COURSE it's H/G! How could it not be, eventually at least, with me holding the pen (or, er... keyboard, as it were...)?

Merlindamage: Well, my muse definitely made this one, as I dreamt it. It was rather odd, actually – got up and had to write it down. And the Ginny/Ernie thing? Harry's perception of the situation may well have been exactly what Ginny intended it to be, however...

Kordolin: Thank you, thank you! I don't know if the updates will be as quick as with The Power of Truth, but we'll see. Now I have a beta, anything is possible!

Treck: Hmmm. School is generally "out" here, as we homeschool, but I get your point. However, I do live in Canada, so our school year rather differs than for some... but I promise, I'll write hard! Pounding, pounding!!!

Dkandmax: Longer? Hmmm, have to see what I can do about that. BTW, thanks for the heads-up email, I appreciate it!

GiGiFanfic: I'm not asking James that, because then he might stop betaing my stuff, and I can't have that! I think all of my stories are destined to be quite different, actually. I hope so, at any rate. We'll have to see! "Daresn't", wow, I haven't heard that in a LOOONG time! I grew up in Ontario, around a LOT of people from the east coast, and that is one that I haven't heard since I moved west!

Gorman99: Thanks... I'll try to give you something worth biting into – LOL!

RadcliffeRox24: Thanks! I like cliffies and plot twists, as you may know. We'll see what is in store for the canon characters this time around. Ginny certainly is portraying herself as something she's not, perhaps too well at times.

Larna Mandrea: Your reaction to my fic notice was pretty much what my reaction was to seeing that you had reviewed. As to the prophecy thing, BLAME THE MUSE! This one, literally, came to me in a dream. This was INTENDED to be a sixth year fic, but the darned muse changed her mind pretty quickly. She just kept coming out with seventh year details... so, I gave in gracefully. This time, anyhow.

Not Your Average: Rowlingesque? Cool! That, my kind reviewer, is one of the highest forms of praise I've ever been on the receiving end of! No bashing of Ron, or Harry, for that matter, but feel free to Malferret-bash all you'd like. I do! Ron does, however, have a rather unique relationship with Ginny.

Sabine Strohem-Moss: You have a simply beautiful name! Let me assure you, there will be plenty of Ron/Ginny wrath!

CQ