Chapter Two - Where there's a will, there's a way

Harry could not understand what had happened. His cheek still throbbed from where Ginny had hit him moments ago, and his tears seemed to have finally subsided.

Silently staring at the door, wondering if Ginny was out there waiting for him to open it up, he started moving toward the door. As he reached out to open the door, he was startled by the sound of a throat being cleared behind him. Spinning, reaching for his wand, he saw that the room was empty. Confused he looked around, and saw the form of Phineas Nigellus appear in the portrait hanging above Sirius' bed.

"What are you doing here," Harry demanded. "That's not your portrait. Were you listening in to our entire conversation? Have a good laugh?"

The portrait sighed. "Why do they always think everything is always about them? I told Albus that teenagers are not worth the bother. We really should develop a spell to skip them through those awful years."

"Did you have a point or did you just stop by to insult me?" Harry was not in the mood to be bothered by this annoying man tonight.

"I heard the commotion and came up to investigate. I don't think it is much of a stretch for me to tell you that my great-great grandson would not want you to wallow in your grief like this. You are being distracted from more important things and there's nothing you can do to bring him back." Phineas looked at Harry with sorrow and shrugged his shoulders.

"I know it is hard for someone your age to understand, but death happens. Especially now. You are at war and people die. Good ones, bad ones, young, old, innocent, guilty, all are at risk of being killed deliberately or by accident. If you let the deaths of those you love overwhelm you, Voldemort will have an easy way to incapacitate you and he will win."

"So I should just accept it, forget about it, forget about how much I loved him, forget that he meant my freedom, forget that he was a direct connection to my parents, forget all that he meant to me?" Harry's anger started to rise again and he glared defiantly at the portrait.

"Did you listen to anything the pretty little read-headed witch just told you? Of course you don't forget any of it, that would be inhuman. You may be a compulsive and idiotic boy, but you are not inhuman. You cherish the memories of Sirius, you mourn his passing, and you move on. Otherwise you will lose yourself and the world will be lost in Voldemort's shadow."

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked with suspicion. "I thought you'd appreciate that. All of the rest of the Black family seems to be aligned with that monster."

"I owe a debt to Hogwarts, a debt to Dumbledore, and I owe a debt to you Harry Potter."

"T-t-to me?" Harry spluttered. "Why me?"

"Yes, to you. Unless I am gravely mistaken, and I assure you I am not, when your godfather's will is read this evening you will understand. Until then, let's just say that I understand your pain on the loss of Sirius, share it even, and want you to find the strength to move on. With that, I must be going. We will speak again about this."

"Wait," Harry begged. "What do you mean? What does Sirius' will have to do with anything? Where are you going?"

But it was too late, Phineas had already left and the portrait was empty. Sighing, Harry turned toward the door once more and left the bedroom.

---

As Ginny pulled the door firmly shut, her hand trembling, she rubbed her face and turned towards the stairs. She was startled to see her mother calmly standing at the top of the stairs, one hand fiddling in a pocket of her robes.

"Mum," Ginny exclaimed. "What are you doing there? I thought I asked you to stay downstairs."

"I did," Molly said, her eyes shifting away from her daughter's gaze, "but then I thought that you might need my help. So I came up here and I waited."

"Mum, are those extendable ears? Were you eavesdropping?" When Mrs. Weasley shamefully nodded her head, Ginny surprised her mother by giggling.

"Did you think I stormed up here to start snogging him? Honestly mother."

"N-n-no!" spluttered Mrs. Weasley. "I wanted to make sure you didn't accidentally make things worse. Harry is in a precarious place and, well, when did you get to be so wise?"

Mrs. Weasley's eyes misted as she stared at her daughter, a young lady she could no longer call her baby girl.

"Ginevra, you were wonderful. You were perfect, better than anyone could have been. I just hope that poor dear was able to listen to you, able to hear you, and understand. Oh I just worry about him so much. And you, my precious daughter, you were just wonderful."

Grasping her daughter in a bone-crushing hug, Mrs. Weasley held on to her daughter with the unbreakable force of a mother's love. Slowly she relaxed that grip, and started giggling softly.

"How hard did you hit him? In this contraption of your brother's it seemed like you slugged him halfway across the room. What did his face look like, he must have been stunned."

Her giggles quickly shifted to uproarious laughter at the picture of her tiny daughter smacking the world's most famous teenage wizard, trying to bring some sense to him. Ginny joined her mother's laughter, the two of them giggling and chortling as they slowly headed down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom, the others stared with amazement at the two laughing witches and crowded around them in disbelief.

"Gin? What happened up there, we heard yelling, and then we couldn't make anything out." Ron grabbed his sister with his free hand, Ginny casually glanced at his other hand which was intertwined with Hermione's. Ron blushed and quickly let go of Hermione's hand before grimacing and grasping it again.

Hermione was blushing as well, though Ginny could tell that it was not out of embarrassment, but rather out of humor at Ron's reaction. "Gin, please tell us, is Harry okay? What did you say, what did he say? Oh we have to know, we just have to."

With a sigh Ginny flopped onto a nearby couch and waved everyone to their seats. "We talked, we yelled, there were tears."

"And a good slap to the face," interrupted Mrs. Weasley, to the gasps of the crowd.

"Seriously mother, did you need to mention that? Anyway, there is not much I can say, it was a very private conversation between us, but I explained to him that we all cared about him, that we shared his pain at the loss of Sirius, and that he needed to move on. And I told him we were ready to be there for him when he was ready to accept that."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance, its significance not lost on Ginny, but she pointedly ignored their smirks. Her father had grabbed her mother in a big hug, whispering softly to her as Mrs. Weasley sighed and stared at the stairwell, wishing Harry to come bounding down the stairs to join his family.

Professor Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at Ginny, sighed and swept to the kitchen. "Perhaps I will join Alastor in the kitchen and see about preparing a snack for us. It has been a trying evening, and I know it is a long night ahead of us still."

Ginny's mother, father, and the twins, joined him, asking Ginny to let them know if Harry came down. Professor Lupin crossed the room and sat down on the sofa next to Ginny, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, he gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you Ginny," he murmured, "thank you for trying to help him. I don't know what we'll do, but we can only try to help him. James and Lily, now Sirius, I have to do something, anything. I know the agony he's been going through, but I keep holding on to the thought that I might be able to help, it's all that got me through the past few weeks. I just hope you were able to break through. I can't stand another note that says 'I want to be alone."

Ginny grabbed her favorite professor in a fierce hug, and as she felt his arms grab back, she felt the added weight of Ron and Hermione join in the tight circle. They sat there for a few minutes, comforted by the closeness to each other and in their shared concern for Harry. They were startled by the sound of a throat clearing and a low chuckle from the doorway.

"Don't mind me," Harry said. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

All heads snapped in his direction, searching, probing, looking to see how Harry was. Ron was the first to find his voice, prying away from the group hug he stood and looked at his best friend.

"All right there Harry?" he asked hopefully.

"No," sighed Harry. "But I will be, mate, I will be. I just don't want to be alone again."

Tears erupted again from Ron's eyes as he ran across the room, grabbed Harry by the shoulders and enveloped him in a teeth-rattling hug.

"You won't be mate, I promise. Just don't push us out again. No matter what..." Ron's statement was interrupted by the thud of Hermione colliding into the two of them, her arms wrapping around them as she wormed her way into their embrace. Eyes glistening, she looked into both sets of eyes and smirked.

"Honestly, you two, none of us will ever be alone so long as we have each other."

Harry looked over to where Ginny still sat on the couch with Professor Lupin, and motioned her over to them with one hand. She shook her head slightly, wanting to give the three of them their moment, but Harry again motioned with his hand and beckoned her with his head.

"Ginny too," he said. "She helped me realize what a stupid prat, I think it was, that I have been. She made me realize that I've been hurting more than myself lately. Thanks Gin, thanks for everything."

Reluctantly Ginny walked over to the trio, and they opened up their embrace to include her. Words weren't necessary, and the four of them just held on to each other, relieved that Harry was no longer alone, no longer blocking out his friends.

After several minutes, Harry pulled away and asked the others to leave him alone with Professor Lupin. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny each grasped him gently on the shoulder, acknowledging his need to talk with the werewolf. As they left the room, Ron reached for Hermione's hand, causing Harry's eyebrows to raise and a slow smile creep across his face.

"Oi, Ron, we'll need to talk about that too," he grinned, enjoying the bright flash of red explode around the tips of his best friend's ears.

---

Professor Lupin?" Harry suddenly felt very tentative, worried about the hurt he had cause his godfather's best friend. "I want to apologize and ask you a favor."

As a smile slowly appeared on Professor Lupin's face, Harry felt as if he could see the muscles in the weary man's body relax. His hair seemed to soften, and the bags under his eyes disappeared. It was as if Lupin had gained 15 years of his youth back instantaneously.

"Harry, I think it would be safe for you to call me Remus, I no longer work at Hogwarts and we don't have to be so formal." Remus quietly sat down on a couch near the fireplace and motioned for Harry to join him. Harry walked over, sitting down so he could face the fire and Remus. Taking a deep breath and setting his shoulders, preparing for a difficult conversation, Harry looked at the last Marauder.

"Remus, then, I am sorry. I'm sorry for snapping at you when you visited. I'm sorry for ignoring your letters. I'm sorry for getting your best friend killed." Harry paused as he saw Remus preparing to interrupt and looked sharply at the man.

"No, I need to accept my share of blame for that night. I know I didn't kill him, I know Sirius made choices too, but he wouldn't have gone if I hadn't been so foolish as to go there in the first place. I'll never forgive myself for that, and I'll never forget the lesson I learned. But I know now that I have to keep moving forward. Sirius would want that, I think.

"So, again, I'm sorry. I lashed out at you when all you were trying to do was help. That was stupid, and I regret that. And I need a favor. I need to know more about my parents, more about Sirius, more about you. I've spent too many years being told my parents were less than worthless, that I was useless, by my Aunt and Uncle. Since I found out about Hogwarts, about everything, no one has really told me much about my family. What I saw in Snape's Pensieve hurt, I couldn't understand it, I still can't understand it, but I've learned more from him than I did from Sirius, or you. And that's not right.

"I need to know what they were like. Where I came from. I don't know, I guess it will make me feel less alone, less like an orphan. I mean, I know I have the Weasley's, and Hermione..."

"And me, Harry, and me," Remus interrupted, eyes glistening as he reached across and grabbed Harry's hand. "I'll always be there for you Harry, as best as I'm able. I can't be James, I can't be Sirius, but I'll do what I can so that you never think of yourself as alone."

Harry awkwardly reached out to Remus and they embraced in a rough hug, neither sure if this was the way to express their new bond, but satisfied that this was sufficient.

Harry heard the door from the kitchen creak open and he turned to see who was entering the room. His heart raced a bit and he sucked in his breath when he saw the venerable headmaster quietly enter the room.

"Remus," Harry said. "If you don't mind, we need a few minutes."

Nodding, Remus stood to leave. "We only have a few minutes before the will needs to be read, Harry, so please make it brief."

As Remus walked toward the kitchen, the headmaster sat down in a chair near the couch where Harry sat. As he started to speak, Harry silenced him with the wave of a hand and a deep sigh.

"Professor, we have a lot to discuss. You have your agenda and I have mine. We can't finish it this evening, and I'd really prefer that we not start until we can finish it at the same time." Harry paused, glancing nervously at his headmaster. When Professor Dumbledore did not respond, Harry continued.

"But first I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for some of what I've done and said to you. I was hurt, scared, angry, and who knows what else. I still am."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for the first time in weeks. "Only some Harry?"

Offering a tiny smirk, the headmaster nodded to his favorite pupil. "I understand, and I too apologize. We can continue this conversation at a later date, but the things I must convey carry a certain urgency. Could we perhaps have dinner tomorrow evening, after your day at work?"

Harry reluctantly nodded. He had hoped that Dumbledore would allow him to stay at Sirius' home, or perhaps go to the Burrow. But he remembered the events of that afternoon with Wormtail and agreed that perhaps it was best if he returned to Privet Drive.

"That's fine, Professor. And thanks."

"Thank you Harry, I shall look forward to dinner amongst the Muggles."

As Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair, the doorbell to number 12 Grimmauld Place rang, and for the second time that evening, Harry felt a sense of dread.

---

Harry walked to the front door and opened it. In the shadows of the night stood a squat individual with the familiar toad-like features of Dolores Umbridge. With a loud gasp he moved to slam the door shut, horrified that the horrible little woman had managed to find the headquarters of the Order. As he grasped the door, the tiny individual stomped by him, harrumphing as she walked by.

"Really Mister Potter, you look like you've seen You-Know-Who. May I introduce myself, my name is Imogene Preferta Chetum. As you know, I am the attorney for your departed godfather's estate. Pleased to meet you. Where may we conduct the will reading?" With a businesslike manner she quickly marched into the sitting room, plopped down her briefcase and sat.

Harry was still too stunned to speak. He silently closed the door and followed after the tiny witch. Staring at her, he did not know what to say when Ron and Hermione came rushing in from the kitchen.

"Harry, who was at the door? Ron and I were going to..." Hermione stopped midsentence as she saw Ron's horrified expression as he looked at the newest person to arrive at Sirius' house.

"You...you...how dare you...how did you..." Ron raised his wand, prepared to cast any number of spells, hexes, or jinxes at Harry's nemesis from the previous year. Hermione gasped as she too was struck by the familiar features present on the witch in front of her. Slowly she examined the witch, and satisfied that it was indeed not Dolores Umbridge, she quickly grabbed Ron's wand arm and pulled it down.

"Honestly Ron, she can't be her. Dumbledore wouldn't allow HER to enter this house." Turning to address the witch who was bemusedly gazing at the troubled trio, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Pardon me madam, but you have us at something of a disadvantage. You look remarkably similar to an old acquaintance of someone we knew and we were startled. May I inquire as to your name?"

A high-pitched, childish giggle erupted from the witch. She turned to look at all three teenagers before trying to catch her breath.

"Oh my, oh my, I should have thought ahead, I should have realized. My sincerest apologies Mr. Potter. As I said, my name is Imogene Preferta Chetum. Or should I say my full name is Imogene Preferta Umbridge Chetum. But please call me Preferta, or Preffy. That is my, well, preferred name.

"I know that the three of you have met my dear twin sister," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The miserable, obnoxious, despicable, and wretched Dolores. Hag. I forget that not everyone knows that she and I are indeed twins, though we haven't spoken for about 25 years. Ever since we graduated, we have never spoken. She was very disgruntled when I was made Prefect and she was overlooked. Of course her Head of House was a rather intelligent person and quickly saw through her obvious maneuverings.

"I do hope any physical similarities will be overcome by my sincerest regard for you Mr. Potter. My kind, that is to say half-breeds, owe you a great debt. Were it nor for your continued battles against the Dark Lord, well, we'd just be doomed."

"Half-breeds?" Ron was stunned. "What do you mean? She hated anyone who wasn't pure blooded. She didn't even seem to like muggle-borns. How could she have been a half-breed?

"Oh Ron," sighed Hermione. "Isn't it obvious? Umbridge and Mrs. Chetum are clearly part-human and part-..."

"Oh, if you don't mind, my dear," sweetly interrupted the attorney. "We girls must have some secrets, don't you think? Thank you. Now if we could be off to business, I would like to get this started.

"Mr. Potter, you are obviously present. And I can presume that you are Ms. Hermione Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley? Yes? Excellent.

"We'll need to gather Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, Arthur, Molly, Ginevra, Fred, and George Weasley, Severus Snape..."

"Snape?" exclaimed Harry. "Why would we need him? They hated each other!"

"Temper, temper, Mr. Potter," said Severus Snape as he walked entered through the front door, smirking at the trio. "Well, well. If it isn't the illustrious trio. Never separate, are we?"

"Severus, that's enough!" The authority that emanated from Professor Dumbledore was enough to end the conversation. Professor Snape quietly swept to the back of the room and sulked into the corner.

Seething, Harry glared at Professor Snape and then looked at his headmaster.

"I want him out as soon as this is over. I do not want him fouling up this house."

Not even waiting for a response, Harry sat down on the couch nearest Preferta, motioning Ron and Hermione to sit with him. As the Weasley's and Remus followed Professor Dumbledore in from the kitchen, Sirius' attorney checked each name off of her list.

"All we need now is Alastor Moody. Excellent," she said as he stomped in from the kitchen, "and Nymphadora Tonks."

An extremely loud crash from the hallway, as Tonks tripped over the umbrella stand announced her presence.

"Excellent!" cried the attorney. "Now we can begin. Obviously, with an estate the size of the Black Family trust, there are many files, many bequests, many pieces of paperwork to go over. Tonight's activities are limited to specific items and funds that Mr. Black wished to disperse upon the event of his demise. Mr. Potter, as the primary beneficiary of Mr. Black's estate, you and I will need to meet soon to go over in detail particular items.

"First, I would like to thank you all for arriving, Mr. Black had specific instructions as to what would occur were you not to arrive, and in particular I am appreciative that Professor Snape has arrived. I'm not sure it would be entirely legal for me to cast that particular series of hexes and jinxes on an individual."

She pointedly ignored the muffled giggles that emanated from those gathered in front of her. The scowl on Snape's face made Harry glad that he was there to see it.

"Now, let's see. Each of you has an individual letter from Mr. Black that he asked you to read at this point in time. Let me pass them out before I continue with the remainder of the will."

Having said that, the tiny woman carefully handed each individual a scroll. As Harry watched the progress, he dreaded the moment that came when Mrs. Chetum handed him the scroll with his name on it.

Dear Harry,

I am hoping that this never reaches you, or at least not until we've
had a few more years together. However, I have learned from
the fortunate mistakes made by my parents and decided to spend some time
preparing my will in case I ever manage to get out of this accursed
house. You see, my mother, despite her loathing for me, never managed
to legally disinherit me. She apparently never got around to writing
her own will. When she died while I was in Azkaban, the entire family
estate went to me. That's fortunate for me, and you, if you are
reading this letter.

Now, since I am still a wanted criminal (damn that insufferable Fudge)
I'm sure there will be some formalities for Preffy to go through with
you. While I can't access my funds personally, you as my heir will be
able to get them. Don't worry about it, she's brilliant and will help
you through everything. I trust her with everything important to me,
and that includes you.

So first, let me apologize. I'm sorry I was locked away in Azkaban
all those years. I'm sorry I wasn't able to rescue you from your
horrid Aunt and Uncle. I wish that we could have spent some time
together while you were growing up. I would have loved to have been
there when you first got on a broom on your own, it had to be amazing!
Your father loved to fly more than anything, he said it gave him a
sense of serenity and clarity. It was the only thing he truly loved
as much as he loved your mother, and, of course, you.

And finally, since you are reading this, I'm sorry that I'm dead. I
imagine it had to do with Voldemort and this accursed war we face. I
can only hope that you are safe, that you have the time to grow up, to
laugh, to play, and to enjoy your life. You have faced so much, too
much, and you will face more. I know. I know what the stupid
prophecy has to say, and I know how much Dumbledore believes in it.

I also know that your parents did too. That's why they went in to
hiding and that's why I made them switch Peter for me as secret
keeper. Your mom was sensitive to that particular gift. No, she
wasn't a seer or prophet, but she could sense things. She knew truth.
It was eerie, Harry, very eerie. She could tell when we were hiding
things, especially when we were preparing pranks, how we felt. I
think that's part of how they came together, your mum and dad. When
he was head boy and she was head girl they had to spend so much time
together, and she could see the truth around him. She saw that he
wasn't the arrogant Quidditch player, or the obnoxious bully, or the
rich pure blood. She saw him as the man he was, the kind, sensitive,
leader. The kind of man people looked up to because they knew he
would point them in the right direction.

The kind of man you are, Harry.

I know you've not had an easy life, I know it has not been fair to
you. Your parents robbed from you at such an early age, abandoned
with those crazy Muggles. Your first taste of your heritage and
suddenly you are stalked by the dead memory of an evil wizard. And
then it happens again.

And then a crazy man escapes from an inescapable prison, tracks you
down, scares you half to death, and you find out that he's your
godfather, innocent, and needs your help. Not to mention everything
you went through last summer. It's enough to send anyone around the
bend.

But you've managed to overcome everything that's been thrown at you.
I hope you keep that strength, Harry. The world needs you to keep
that strength, but more importantly, your friends need you to keep
that strength.

That's another gift of your father's, the ability to make friends so
easily. Me, Remus, even traitorous Peter, we were a disparate group
but became the best of friends. I see that with Ron, Hermione, and
Ginny. They all adore you, look up to you, worry for you, and love
you. I know you'd jump in front of an ogre for any of them, and
they'd return the favor. Cherish those friendships, Harry. They are
all that matters. Not prophecy or Voldemort, not even money.
Friendship is the most important thing. That, and love.

Your parents had that in abundance, and you know that is your legacy.
The amount of love your mother had for you still surrounds you, still
protects you. It is a powerful energy, and you are multiply blessed
by it. And I send my love to you as well. Despite my death, never
doubt for a minute that I'm not watching over you, cheering you on.

But enough with this morbidity. Let's get down to those more mundane
earthly things. You're rich Harry, I know. Your parents left you a
king's ransom and a lengthy heritage. The vault you have access to is
only part of your inheritance from James and Lily. When you graduate
from Hogwarts you will receive more money. You'd never have to work
again.

And with my death, now you have even more. If your parents were rich,
well, then I'm filthy with it. The most noble house of Black has a
long history and a ton of gold. Preffy will give you immediate access
to the vaults once she has taken care of my other bequests. You'll
have more money than you know what to do with, as if you don't
already. You also get the house. There are other properties that
come with the estate, some grand, some less so, but the house is
yours.

The only request I have of you Harry is that you spend some of the
money immediately. Frivolously. Do something wild and crazy, throw
Galleons off the roof if you need to, but do something fun and
unexpected. Do it in memory of me, in memory of the Marauders, and do
it to make you laugh.

You didn't have enough to laugh about as a child, and you don't have
enough to laugh about now nearing adulthood. Take some time this
summer and find something fun to do to go crazy. Take Ron and
Hermione. (And find a way to get them to admit what they feel, they
need to feel the joy of love.) Find yourself a girlfriend (maybe
Ginny? Your father certainly had a weakness for redheads, maybe you
do too?).

As I said before, Harry, I hope you never get this letter. But if you
are reading it, know that I love you, and I will love you forever.

Sirius

With tears streaming down his cheeks, Harry looked up from the letter and glanced around the room. Remus was also softly crying, but also laughing to himself at points as he read and re-read his letter. Sirius had obviously made several jokes in Remus' letter. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley also had tears in their eyes and Mr. Weasley was quietly shaking his head. Hermione's eyes were glistening as she kept reading her letter, which seemed to go on much longer than Harry's. A brief surge of jealousy must have flashed across his face because she leaned over and showed him the letter.

"He gave me his library, Harry. Hundreds of books. All mine. He asked me to talk with you about keeping them here until I have a house of my own, and then he listed all the books in the library. Can you believe it, all those books are mine!" Her excitement caused Harry's jealousy to fade immediately.

"Of course you can keep them here Herms, you don't even need to ask. I'll give you a key to the house so you can come and go as you please." Harry was pleased with the thought of sharing his new home with his best friend, and looked forward to the thought of rummaging through the library with her, seeing what was in the inventory. He looked over at Ron who was staring with amazement at his letter from Sirius.

"He's absolutely nutters, he is. Bonkers." Ron said, shaking his head. "Harry, do you think this is some kind of joke? Was he toying with me?"

"Why Ron, what did he say?" asked Harry.

"Well, he says he gave me a new Firebolt, my own Quidditch set for practice, and he left me, well, he says he left me with some Galleons. But he can't have been serious, could he?"

"How much Ron, what'd he leave you? He says he was filthy rich, or his family was, so I can't imagine it was a joke."

"Well," whispered Ron, "he says he left me with 10,000 galleons. All I have to do is promise to buy Hermione a new book every Christmas and birthday, buy you a new Chudley Cannons poster every year, and anonymously send a bucket of dead things to Professor Snape at the beginning of term each year. But I'm not allowed to repeat an animal or whatever I send him."

Harry burst out laughing at the last statement, convinced that his godfather was the funniest man he ever knew.

"That's brilliant Ron, bloody brilliant! What are you going to send this year? Oh, we'll have some fun with that!"

Ron joined in his laughter, and Hermione, after giving them both a scandalized look, joined in the laughter. They laughed so hard the unknowing object of their ridicule glared at them and huffed.

"What did that criminal say to you that was so funny?"

Harry glared at the hated Potions master, his eyes spitting fire at this man who hated Harry because of the memory of Harry's dead father.

"He wasn't a criminal, as you well know. And what he had to say to us is private. Why are you here, what did Sirius leave you?" Harry was very curious as to what Sirius would have left Professor Snape.

"That too, is private," sneered Professor Snape.

"Well then, if you are not in the mood to share, Sirius left this house to me, and I suggest that you leave my house immediately. You are only welcome when there is a meeting of the Order, and since that is not happening tonight, I request that you leave, now."

Fuming, Professor Snape whirled from the room, stomping across the house and slammed the front door shut as he left.

Harry smirked, satisfied that he managed to win a confrontation with Snape. He was pleased that Professor Dumbledore did not interrupt their argument, and for once did not seem prepared to scold Harry for his disrespect of a teacher.

Mrs. Chetum gathered the attention of the group in the room by clearing her throat in a manner that still sent chills down Harry's spine.

"Hem, hem." She paused while all eyes turned to her. "If I may. Now that Professor Snape has left, for Mr. Black's will to be complete I must ask each of you to lift a glass in his honor, that was his last request."

She waved her wand and there appeared a tray of mugs filled with butterbeer. Harry gladly passed the mugs around to each of the people in the room, taking one for himself. He paused, wiping a tear away from his eye, he looked at each person in the room.

"I think I know what best to say, something that would make Sirius proud." He grinned before continuing.

"To Sirius," he started, "I solemnly swear..." as he paused to catch a breath he was startled by the sound of everyone's voice joining his in a chorus of laugher.

"...that I am up to no good!" the crowd shouted in unison.

Remus walked over to Harry, placed his arm around Harry's shoulders and whispered to Harry.

"To Sirius! Mischief managed."