Chapter 12: Sirius' Will
Over lunch, Remus told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny about Sirius' will, and Professor Dumbledore coming out to read it that afternoon. Hermione had a question.
"Won't Sirius' criminal record get in the way? I mean, would the will still be considered legally binding?"
"I stand by what I said in your third year, Hermione," Remus said, nodding. "We've researched just that point. You remember that Sirius never had a trial. Because of that, he has no legal criminal record, and his will is binding."
"That's ironic," Ginny said quietly.
Harry bit his lip hard. I will not cry, I will not cry, he chanted to himself.
Remus must have noticed, Harry realized, as the man smoothly changed the subject. "So Ron, what were you doing in the music room this morning?"
Ron knocked over his glass, which luckily was mostly empty. "Just looking at stuff," he muttered as he grabbed his napkin and bent over to wipe up the mess.
"Is that why the lid's open on the piano and there's music on the stand?" Ginny inquired innocently.
"All right, if you must know, I was trying to play the piano," Ron grumbled, coming up with a wet napkin and a red face. "I just... I wanted to see if I could, that's all."
"Can you?" Hermione asked.
Ron shrugged. "Not really. I figured out what keys play what notes, but that's about it."
"How did you do that?" Remus asked.
"You played a C for Ginny to sing from, and an F for me," said Ron. "I found those keys, and I remembered that it only goes up to G before it starts over, and that sharps are up and flats are down."
"You found those keys?" Remus repeated. "How did you find them exactly?"
"I remembered the notes they played, and I hit keys until I found the right ones," Ron said, as if he were talking to an unusually thick first-year who couldn't remember how to get to the Gryffindor common room.
"You remembered the notes. That's rather remarkable," Remus said. "Tell me, what note is this?" He whistled, a sweet, melancholy sound.
"G," Ron said promptly.
Remus whistled another note. "This?"
"Erm, C sharp. Almost. It's a little flat."
"How are you doing that?" Harry said.
"Can't you hear it?" Ron asked, looking surprised. "I mean, it's obvious..."
Harry snorted. "That's what I said in second year when you asked me what I said to the snake."
"What?"
"Harry, that's not nice," Hermione said. "Ron, we can't do that. You have perfect pitch. That's rare."
Ginny sighed dramatically. "Now if that only translated into Quidditch terms..."
Ron threw his wet napkin at her. She dodged, and it scored a perfect hit on Albus Dumbledore, who had just materialized in the middle of the kitchen.
"Sorry, Professor Dumbledore," Ron said quickly. "I wasn't aiming at you."
"Then it is as well for Gryffindor that you play Keeper and not Chaser, Mr. Weasley," said the Headmaster with a smile as Fawkes flew around him, brushing his wing past the wet spot, causing it to steam and disappear. "Not to worry, no harm done. Are Arthur and Molly here, Remus?"
"They're in the study, getting everything set up."
"Excellent. Hagrid is only a few minutes behind me, and I told Nymphadora one o'clock, so she should be here any moment..."
An extra-loud crack announced three arrivals at once – Tonks, Fred, and George.
"Wotcher, everyone," said Tonks. Her hair was blue-and-gold striped today. "All right, Harry?"
"Fine, thanks," Harry said. "I like the hair."
"You've got taste," Tonks said, grinning. "This is the very latest, this is."
Harry's attention was drawn by a floating speck of dust which seemed to be shining oddly in the light from the fire. It shimmered brighter and larger with every second –
And then it was Hagrid, looking a touch green and wobbly. He dropped a plastic wrapper of some kind on the floor and gratefully sat down on the bench Lupin and Ginny vacated for him. "Hallo, Harry," he said, shuddering a bit. "Blimey, I hate Portkeys. How are yeh?"
Harry smiled at his first wizarding friend. "I'll be all right." Moved by an impulse, he went around the end of the table and hugged Hagrid, or at least as much of him as Harry could get his arms around. Hagrid's massive return hug almost squashed him.
"I think we are all gathered," Dumbledore said solemnly. "Shall we proceed?"
"No need to be unduly quiet," Remus said as he opened the door to the stairs. "The former terror of the hallway is currently inhabiting the attic."
"How did you manage that – ah, I see," Dumbledore said as he noticed the opening in the wall. "Would you like that fixed, Harry?"
"Sir?" Harry said, a little surprised that his opinion was being asked. It wasn't his house, after all. "Er, yes, please."
A wave of Dumbledore's wand and the wall was whole again. The group proceeded into the study, where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting on one side of a large table they had apparently conjured up. They must have known how many people to expect, Harry realized as everyone took a seat. There was even an extra-large chair for Hagrid.
Professor Dumbledore sat down at one end of the table. Fawkes perched on the back of his chair. When everyone was seated, he withdrew a sealed scroll from within his robes and tapped it with his wand. The scroll unrolled itself and, to Harry's astonishment, began to speak in Sirius' voice.
"I, Sirius Thomas Black, being of sound body and mind, do hereby revoke all other wills or codicils and declare this to be my last will and testament.
"First, I would like to make a stipulation. Should any of the individuals or organizations mentioned in this will wish to refuse their legacies, I direct that the money or property involved go to my cousin Narcissa Malfoy and her son Draco."
Harry and everyone else stared at the parchment, which continued speaking.
"To the Order of the Phoenix, should such a thing still exist at the time of my death, I leave ten percent of the contents of my Gringotts vault, to be used as the head of the Order sees fit. If the Order has been disbanded, this money goes to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"To my favorite cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, I leave five percent of my vault and a letter, currently in the possession of Albus Dumbledore."
Tonks sniffed. Harry handed her a tissue from his pocket, earning a watery smile.
"To Rubeus Hagrid, I leave five percent of my vault, along with Buckbeak the hippogriff and my flying motorcycle, for old times' sake."
Hagrid nodded, wiping his eyes with a hankie the size of a dish towel. Harry rubbed at his own, which were starting to sting. Sirius had a flying motorcycle? I wonder...
"To Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age or any other, five percent of my vault and a letter."
Hermione was smiling at the compliment and blinking very hard at the same time.
"To my old friend Remus Lupin, I leave twenty-five percent of my vault, a letter, and my express wish that he be a guardian over my most precious possession, which is not a possession at all, but a person – my godson, Harry Potter."
"Twenty-five percent?" Remus repeated, looking thunderstruck. "But – that's – he can't do that to me!"
"Would you rather the Malfoys got it?" Harry asked.
"Well, no, but..." Remus stopped as the parchment went on.
"To Arthur Weasley and his wife Molly, I leave five percent each of my Gringotts vault and a letter. To each of their children who is currently a member of the Order of the Phoenix or the Hogwarts Defense Association, I leave five percent. To each of their children who is not, I leave two percent. Also letters to Ronald and Ginevra Weasley."
Mrs. Weasley was chalk-white. Fred and George were staring at one another. Ron looked as if he might faint.
"The remaining eight percent of my vault I wish to be held in trust in equal shares for Hermione Granger and Ginevra Weasley, to be given over to them at such time as they fulfill certain conditions laid out in my letters to them. If they do not fulfill these conditions, I wish this money given to charity."
Harry felt an odd mixture of annoyance and relief. I didn't want Sirius' money... and I didn't get it. Any of it. I wonder what he wants Ginny and Hermione to do?
"To my godson, Harry Potter, I leave the house at number 12, Grimmauld Place, with the request that he allow the Order of the Phoenix to continue to use it as headquarters if the need still exists, and with apologies for the house-elf attached to said house. I also leave a letter, which I hope will say more than I can here.
"Lastly, I have a request. I ask that any memorial services for me be held with a great deal of food, drink, and embarrassing stories about everyone present, including me, since I will be with you in spirit, if not in body. I also ask you not to forget me. The dead are only truly dead when they are forgotten.
"Signed on this fourteenth day of June in the presence of Alastor Moody and Albus Dumbledore. Sirius Thomas Black."
The scroll rolled itself back up. Silently, Dumbledore began to distribute a handful of letters. Harry passed Hermione's and Tonks' down before receiving his own. Ginny was smiling sadly as she took hers from Hagrid and handed Ron's to him. Mrs. Weasley accepted the one addressed to her and her husband both. Remus had already slit his envelope neatly open and was pulling out the parchment within.
Harry felt an odd tremor in his stomach as he looked down at the letter he held. It had his name on the outside in Sirius' familiar handwriting. This is it. This is the last I'll ever hear from him.
Harry went out slowly into the hallway, watching Ron run into the music room and slam the door. He suspected his friend was about to cry and didn't want anyone to see it. Ginny and Hermione passed him on their way upstairs, Hermione shivering as if she were freezing and Ginny swallowing hard. Tonks wandered into the hall, looking lost.
"Anyone in the kitchen?" she asked dully. Harry shook his head, and she headed for the stairs, for a miracle not tripping over anything on the way.
Harry went into the front room and sat down on the window seat. Carefully, he ripped open the envelope. Everything around him faded as he unfolded the letter and began to read.
June 14th
Dear Harry,
The first thing I want to say is how sorry I am that you're reading this. It means I've died unexpectedly, possibly without a chance to say goodbye. That sometimes happens in war, and I know how it can tear at a person. That's why I'm leaving this in a safe place, just in case, so you'll know what I would have told you if there had been time.
Next, I want to tell you something I don't think I've ever told you in so many words. I love you, Harry. You're everything to me. You're my only reason for living, for getting up in the morning. I'm rather hoping you'll never read this, as it's becoming far more maudlin than I'd like, but there are no other words to say what you mean to me.
I'm sorry if I ever hurt you by comparing you to James. He was like the brother I always wanted, and you are a great deal like him. I want you to know that you have never disappointed me. And you are at least as good as James was on a broom – quite possibly better.
I'm sure you'll be grieving when you read this. That's normal. But I want you to understand something. Unless you, of your own free will, pointed your wand at me and spoke the words, you are not responsible for my death and you are not to take the blame.
You will always be a center of trouble. It's inevitable. Even if it wasn't for the prophecy and the scar and all, you're curious, intelligent, and brave. You and Ron and Hermione, and Fred and George and Ginny, I should add, make fine additions to the ranks of the Marauders.
But Harry, I am an adult. Maybe I haven't had the most normal of lives, but I am of age, and I can take care of myself. I know you, and if I've died in something involving you, you'll never forgive yourself. So consider this a godfatherly order – do it. Forgive yourself.
The best honor you can give me is to live. Live and enjoy living. Finish Hogwarts and kill off old Moldie-Wart. Get married to a nice girl, and remember, the one for you may be closer than you think. (James' mother as well as yours had red hair. Keep that in mind.) Have a lot of kids, and name the worst one after me.
Oh, and activate the Marauders' Map sometime with the phrase "I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing good." I think you'll like it.
I hope you'll forgive me for not leaving you any gold, Harry, but you don't need it, and Moony does. He's needed money for years, and I have more than anyone could ever spend, but he's too proud to take charity, even from a friend. Now he can't refuse, or the Malfoys get the money. I've finally got him in a corner he can't get out of – even if I did have to do it by being dead. It's the best prank I've ever played, so please enjoy it for me, Harry. And take care of yourself.
All my love,
Sirius
Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. In the end, he did both. When he ran out of tissues, he blotted his eyes on the green window curtains.
These are really ugly. If this was my house, I'd get this room done in red.
He was about to laugh again when he stopped.
Wait. This is my house.
It was a bizarre thought, but it was true. Number 12 Grimmauld Place did indeed belong to him.
My house. Maybe... my home?
Harry shivered at the idea. No. Not my home. Not yet, anyway. It might become my home someday... but not today.
And certainly not while it looks like this.
"Harry?"
He looked up. "Professor."
Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway. "May I come in?"
"Yes, sir."
Dumbledore entered the room and seated himself on a chair. Fawkes flew in behind him and settled on the window seat next to Harry.
"Fawkes seems to like you, Harry," Dumbledore said.
"I like him, sir." Harry stroked the phoenix, which crooned quietly with pleasure.
"May I ask you an indelicate question, then, Harry?"
"Go ahead, sir."
"Near the end of your second year, in the Chamber of Secrets, your loyalty to me was what brought Fawkes to you. Do you still feel loyal to me? I am not saying, nor do I believe, that you plan to join Voldemort. But I would not be surprised to find that you no longer trust me as you once did. I would greatly appreciate knowing the truth of the matter."
Harry considered his answer carefully. One chance to say it right.
"Sir, I believe what you told me in June, and what you said yesterday. You did what you did because you cared about me and you wanted me to be safe. I'll always miss Sirius, and I'll always wonder what it might have been like to grow up in a home where people loved me. But it's over. I can't change the past by being angry. I have people who love me now, and I even have a home. Or at least I have a house. I'm not sure I want to consider it my home yet."
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "The house holds many memories for you, Harry, I'm sure."
"That, and it looks like the Slytherin common room," Harry joked, then froze. He had just admitted to the Headmaster of Hogwarts that he knew what the Slytherin common room looked like. And what do I do when he asks how I know that?
"That it does," Dumbledore said, and Harry released a breath he hadn't been aware of holding.
"So I still trust you, sir. I may question what you say a bit more than I used to, but that's a normal part of growing up, isn't it?"
"It is," Dumbledore said gravely. "And you have indeed grown up a great deal in the last month, Harry. I thank you for the gift of your trust. I will not abuse it."
They talked for a while about the new school year at Hogwarts. Dumbledore said something in the middle of the conversation that made Harry almost fall off the window seat in surprise.
"You want the DA to continue, sir?"
"Yes, indeed. I would ask that the name be returned to Defense Association, though. And since the club will now be aboveboard, Harry, perhaps you would consider enlarging your membership."
"Of course, sir. Anyone who wants to join can."
"Even members of Slytherin house?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry shrugged. "If they're not there to sabotage us, yes. They can't all be bad. Ron may not like it, but he'll get used to it." Ron's name in conjunction with clubs brought up another thought. "Sir, about Quidditch."
"All decrees passed by Dolores Umbridge, including your so-called 'lifetime' ban, have been revoked, Harry. If the new captain feels you are still able, you may rejoin the team at any time you desire."
Harry grinned. "Thank you, sir. Who is the captain this year?"
"The Head of House appoints the Quidditch captain, Harry. Professor McGonagall will probably be asking one of the older members of the team to see her in her office at some point early in the year."
Something about that teased Harry's memory, but he let it go.
The conversation drifted to the house. Dumbledore officially asked Harry's permission to use number 12 as the headquarters of the Order; Harry gave it gladly. It was something he could do to honor Sirius. Dumbledore also offered the services of the Order to help redecorate the house, and Harry accepted. It was dinnertime when they were finished talking, and Mrs. Weasley, as usual, had prepared an excellent meal.
Ron looked like a victim of shell-shock. He didn't say a word all through dinner. Remus kept staring at the table and shaking his head. Ginny and Hermione were both very pink, getting pinker every time they looked at either Harry or Ron. Tonks was red-eyed but smiling, Fred and George were grinning every time they looked at each other, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were holding hands under the table.
Hagrid hadn't been seen since just after the reading was over. Ginny and Hermione said he'd gone upstairs to Buckbeak's room. He reemerged around pudding time, covered in feathers and fur. "Bin groomin' him," he said, taking the offered glass of spiked pumpkin juice and tossing it back. "Hasn't bin done properly fer a while. Prob'ly not since Sirius died."
The phrase evoked a pang in Harry, but it wasn't the clutching, gripping pain it had been up to this point.
I'll always miss you, Sirius. But you and Moony are right. Life has to go on.
And right now, there's a house to renovate.
-----
The next four days were almost inconceivably busy. It was incredible what a bunch of wizards and witches could do if they put their minds to it, Harry discovered. If he had left the house at the start of what came to be called Operation Cleansweep and not returned until the end, he literally wouldn't have recognized the place.
Harry discovered his favorite style of decorating was best described as comfortable but practical. Remus, taking his role as semi-guardian seriously, insisted on keeping a few rooms elegant, but the rest of the house resembled the Gryffindor common room. Large soft armchairs and sofas upholstered in primary colors were accompanied by sturdy coffee and end tables.
The bedrooms, too, bore more than a passing resemblance to Harry's dorm, with their curtained four-poster beds and utilitarian but handsome dressers and desks. Remus offered Harry the use of the large bedroom that had been Sirius', since he was now the master of the house, but Harry turned it down. He did, however, spend an afternoon going through Sirius' things, putting a lot away to look at later, and finding one item that made his heart twinge more than a little, which he took back to his room and slipped into his trunk.
Admittedly, more of the house was done in red and gold than any other colors, but there were a number of rooms in blue and bronze, yellow and black, or other combinations. Harry had even left one of the elegant rooms green and silver. The hallways were done in a simple off-white, and Harry took great pleasure in removing the house-elf heads and other unsavory items himself.
The kitchen was brightened quite a lot by clean walls, a new table, and the addition of a magical window such as Harry had seen at the Ministry of Magic. Winky came on the second day of the operation to do a few things house-elf magic was especially designed for, such as cleaning out the chimney. Harry was rather relieved to be needed at the other end of the house the entire time she was there. One house-elf worshiping him was his limit.
Harry also noticed his friends whispering a lot in corners. He was never in on these collaborations, which irked him somewhat, but he decided to let it go. It was hard, especially when Ginny or Hermione looked in his direction and giggled, but he was practicing holding on to his emotions.
One of the Weasley parents was always absent from Headquarters. As Ron told Harry, "Now that we've got some gold, they want to get the house fixed up. It's really been needing it. And we have to get it done right away..." He stopped and blushed faintly, whether from remembering that his family had so recently been poor or from remembering the source of their money, Harry didn't know.
Finally, on the afternoon of July 30th, everything was done. Harry took a stroll around number 12, enjoying what he saw. The house – his house – was clean, comfortable, handsome, and to his taste. It might even, possibly, be starting to be able to be called his home.
Harry went to bed earlier than anyone else that night, at the urging of Mrs. Weasley, who said he looked worn out. He was tired, so tired that he was sure he wouldn't dream. After all, he hadn't the last four nights.
The last thing he was aware of was irritation that his hand wouldn't stop stinging.
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(A/N: LONG chapter! Sorry, everyone, but I had to get all of this out there before the all-important Chapter 13!
So what does Sirius want Ginny and Hermione to do? And what did he write to Ron that has him so shaken up, or to Tonks to make her smile and cry at the same time? I'm thinking of writing a separate fic, "Letters from Sirius", where you get to read them all. Want me to?
Happy birthday Fran Anderson on October 15! Rivers Hall celebrated in the traditional style – a fire alarm!
Credit where credit's due: Many thanks, Quillian (formerly Kraeg001), for letting me borrow some of your ideas and phrasing for Sirius' will. Everyone else: read his fic "Heir of Gryffindor" if you haven't already, it's excellent. Also, the renovation of the house was inspired by Lady Alchymia's "Harry Potter and the Emerald Tablet".
emikae: Thanks for the recommend. Remember, Carrington's not real – to Harry. And Hogwarts isn't real to us. ::sniffle::
MAndrews: I am severely flattered.
harryp123: Thanks dude.
Kraeg001: You guessed it! Good work! And music will be a big part of this fic. Oh, special sneak preview – all lovers of Neville's boggart from PoA, keep reading!
AKA Hummer: I was worried about whether or not that scene was too stupid, but I thought it worked, and I guess you agree. Thanks for the feedback. Remus is one of my favorite characters too, but I have so many!
Keep R&Ring please! Your reviews are the only way I know what you want!)