Greetings.

First off, I was getting ready to post this, when I received a review from Bluetattingman, after which I was sorely tempted to crawl into a little ball and not post for years. Luckily for you (and me) my good friend Hana came to the rescue and persuaded me to ignore it. So, Chapter 11 is here finally.

Bluetattingman – I believe you are entitled to your own opinion. I respect that. I also do not pretend to know everything – far from it. I am not some amazing authoress, nor am I flawless. I recognize these. I understand where you are coming from in most of your criticisms, but the way you set them out and the manner of your review leave a lot to be desired. Manners (in my opinion) certainly.

You say, (and I quote) "This story is completely unbelievable!" That is quite right. This is FAN FICTION. Entirely made up. It is HARRY POTTER fanfiction, a land where the unbelievable resides. I am only one fifteen year old girl with meager skills hoping to spread some entertainment. I agree, I do not want merely 'yes-men' (and I do not think any of my reviewers as such), and I would welcome CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. I do not, however, feel yours is constructive. You say my story is unbelievable, inconsistent, logical, and generally confusing. Yet you do not say how I can change this. I know you will probably not read this, but to all others out there, who are reviewing or intend to criticize this in a similar manner, please take into account my position. You have to say where I've gone wrong and how to change it in order for me to make it better!

Phew Ok, rant over. Now it's time for a personal advertisement. In light of The Review, I would like to ask all you guys if anyone would be willing to Beta this (and other possible stories) or indeed help me find someone who will. All you have read so far (except my single Van Helsing fic) have been unBeta'ed. If you would like to do me this favour, you can probably contact me via my profile page, or drop a review.

Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Hana / EbonyBeach who saved all our butts and is a constant support. For her I'd like to add – Aragorn for Arwen for ever!

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Chapter 11. The Will.

Harry followed Remus to the Room of Requirement, which had transformed itself into a comfortable living room/study room. Harry sank down into a squashy leather armchair, yelping as he lost his balance and sank so far into it his feet left the ground and his legs were in the air. Laughing heartily, Remus pulled him out, and Harry tentatively balanced himself so he wouldn't fall in again. Remus took the seat opposite to Harry, and to Harry's disappointment, he didn't fall into his chair as Harry had. Then Remus face turned slightly more serious, and curiously apprehensive.

"Erm, Harry, now you've got your memory back, there are a few things I need to discuss with you." Harry nodded, and Remus continued. "I know you might not want to hear this, but, well, we need you to be present when we read Sirius' will." Harry's heart sank, and it must've been evident on his face, because Remus shot him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry Harry, but it states quite clearly you have to be there. We also need to sort out your new guardian."

"You mean, I get another godfather?" Remus sighed.

"Yes Harry. I know you don't want to try to replace Sirius, but according to wizarding law, you have to have a legal guardian until you are 18."

"Aren't the Dursleys' my guardians?" asked Harry confused.

"Yes, they are, but everyone in the wizarding world needs to have a magical guardian by law. Even muggleborns, they generally have a family friend or something. Maybe you could talk to Hermione about it." Harry nodded, digesting this new information.

"So, who could be my new godfather?"

"Well, luckily, it's up to you." Harry grinned. "You have to pick from the willing volunteers, and at the moment, that consists of the Weasleys', the Grangers', and myself." Harry looked at Remus, slightly surprised. Remus nodded. "Yes, I am willing, but you probably want to stay with someone else." He held up his hand, forestalling further argument and conversation on the topic. "The reading is tomorrow afternoon, we didn't think it was a good idea to tell you whilst you had lost your memory. If you had not had your memory returned by today, we would've had to postpone it. You will also get the chance to choose your godparents a couple of days after that."

Harry, on a whim, took a long look at Remus' tired face. His hair contained even more silver hairs than it had the previous year, but that was expected as the last of his friends had died earlier this summer. His face was more lined as well, and with a slight shock, he saw tears starting to fill the wan amber eyes.

Moving silently, he slipped into Remus' armchair, and cuddled up to the thin man. Remus turned his head, unwilling to show his tears. He had to be strong for Harry, and for himself. If he broke down, he would lose himself to the despair that had begun to creep up on him. He was slightly shocked when Harry came and threw his arms around him, but he still refused to let the tears spill.

"I miss him." choked Remus as an errant tear escaped down his prematurely lined face. Harry nodded, burying his head into the older mans' chest. Harry finally understood. Remus had never cried, had always been the strong one; the rock for others, and it had finally got to him. Now it was Harrys' turn.

"I miss him too. We can grieve for him. Its' alright." Said Harry quietly, moving his head so his voice wasn't muffled. He felt his own tears prick at his eyes, and let them fall. It wouldn't help for him to be battling his own emotions.

"Everywhere I go, I'm reminded of him, of James and Lily. All the times we laughed, cried, and the times I should've done something. I should've been there. They didn't deserve to die." Said Remus, his voice now thick with pent up emotion. Harry looked at him suddenly, and Remus felt his eyes drawn to the younger boy. They locked eyes, and Harry spoke quietly.

"There was nothing you could do. You told me their deaths weren't my fault, and neither are they yours. They wouldn't want to know that you were here; hating yourself for things you couldn't have done anything about. They loved you and you loved them, you have every reason to grieve." Remus was slightly shocked by the maturity and wisdom of Harrys' little speech, and finally he realised he was right. Then, letting go for the first time in 16 years, he let himself go, and clutched the last reminder of his old friends close to him, barely noticing Harry was holding him just as hard, and weeping just as much as he was.

Harry was startled out of the moment when he heard Hermione's worried voice in his head, and pulled back.

'Harry? Are you all right? I can feel your pain, is something wrong?' Remus, tears still coating his face, looked down at the deep in thought Harry.

'Yeah, I'm fine.' Thought Harry, unaware of Remus' stare. 'Just talking to Remus about, you know.'

'Oh. Do you want me to come?'

'No, I'm just letting him get it off his chest. It's the least I can do, he did save my life.'

'Ok, don't forget though, dinner soon.' Harry felt a ghost kiss land softly on his lips and he smiled. His beautiful Hermione, wonderful as always. Then he looked up and noticed the werewolfs' odd expression. Oh dear, caught out. Suppose I'll have to tell him the truth.

"You ok, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Really Harry, what just happened?"

"Well it's kind of complicated." He said vaguely, wondering if that would satisfy him. He had wanted it to be their secret, but now Dumbledore would know, and everyone else. Noticing the unchanging expression, he sighed and continued.

"Well, you know about the 'elemental' thing, right?" Remus nodded.

"Yes, a little. You came into your inheritance on your birthday and you can control the elements."

"Right, well I have a staff as well that Dumbledore went with me to get from Ollivanders, I think he said its' called the staff of Quattuoris." Harry pulled out the shrunk bag he kept on him, close to his wand, and withdrew the staff with a slight flourish. Remus seemed agog at the slightly glowing and obviously powerful staff, but stayed silent. Harry hurriedly replaced the staff, and continued his explanation.

"Well, Trelawney made another prediction, that basically said that Hermione's my mate and that with these powers I can defeat Voldemort. The prophecy, I think I can remember it;

Night shall fall on young serpent-tongue,

but day shall arrive in the hands of the moon.

Power from old times shall awaken to the marked one.

Power more powerful and unstoppable than any seen before,

the key and the power to face his nemesis.

He will be recognised by a new mark on the night of inheritance.

In one hand he shall hold the trees and the fish,

in the other, perpetual light and the realm of wings.

He shall recognise his mate by her mark reflecting his new strength.

She will be the key to his strength,

and the union of the one who holds the four and his mate

will overcome the power of the nameless one.

However, beware, for if he succumbs to the dark, only one can save

him, and will pay the sacrifice."

Remus stayed silent, and Harry continued his explanation.

"Right, and when I kissed Hermione, we found out we could communicate through our thoughts like telepathy. That's' what I was doing just now. She wanted to know why I was upset." Remus stared at him for a moment, tears gone from his face, and he looked slightly stunned. Then he gave out a low whistle and chuckled, patting Harry on the back.

"Good on you, Harry. We were wondering when you'd find each other. Sirius would be mad to find out he missed it." Harry chuckled, it sounded just like the Marauders from what he'd heard – betting on things like this.

Harry stood up and helped Remus to his feet, and they went to the great hall for lunch.

After lunch, the day passed rather lazily, a long wizards chess tournament taking up most of the afternoon, with Ron, as usual, winning hands down. In fact, they were able to draw Hermione from her precious books long enough for a few games, and Harry had to sooth her telepathically when she got annoyed with the pieces, complaining that they were cheating. After that, they decided to grab an early dinner from the kitchens – which Dobby was only too happy to provide, to the slight disapproval of Hermione ('SPEW, again.' thought Ron and Harry, sharing a glance). After the piecemeal dinner, Ron wandered off, saying he wanted to practise a few chess moves, while Harry and Hermione sat alone in the Common Room. Harry kept the small fire going, throwing a spark at it occasionally when it seemed to get low, and holding Hermione close, while talking silently.

'You sure you're ok, Harry?' thought Hermione, holding him closer. Harry shifted position, letting his arm free to drape over her form.

'Yes, I think so. I mean, I still feel Sirius' death deeply, but I don't exactly blame myself anymore. And Remus needed the comfort – he hasn't got anyone else to give it him.' Harry stared into the embers of the fire, as Hermione placed a small comforting kiss on his cheek.

'It was very good of you. You're very kind.' Harry blushed.

'I just wanted to help. He helped me, and so I wanted to return the gesture.'

'We'll always be here for you, Harry. Whatever happens.'

'I know.'

The morning of the will reading dawned groggily, a limpid sun raising its' weary head above the drab grey landscape, only to be covered by thick dark clouds, and cry softly. It seemed the very weather was reflecting Harrys' mood – in fact it was, due to his Elemental powers, but he was not in the mood to realise this.

In fact it was so dark when they sat down to breakfast in the great hall, that the tiny floating candles were out, sending flickering light over them all. Harry was dressed in simple clothes, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt covered by his black school robes, the only set of robes he had. His expression mirrored the sad, slightly blank one on Remus' face, except for the slight apprehension on the older werewolfs'. Hermione was dressed simply too, matching Harry, with a look of worry and concern on her face, as well as sadness. She was sending soothing messages to him throughout the meagre, depressing meal, though she didn't think it was working, as his expression didn't change. The only sound in the entire room was the scratching of knives and forks on plates, the odd scrape of a chair, the rustle of clothes and robes.

At about 8:30, when Harry was fruitlessly pushing a cold piece of bacon around his plate slowly with his fork, staring into the distance, Remus rose slowly, meeting Dumbledore's twinkleless eyes for a second and exchanging a brief nod. Remus startled Harry from his contemplation with the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder, before meeting the boys' emerald eyes, and nodding at the question in them, not wanting to break the uneasy silence that threaded through the hall. It was time.

Harry stood up, making a horrible noise with his heavy chair as it moved along the stone floors. Hermione's' eyes shined with tears at her own, and the shared sadness she felt with Harry, still desperately trying to comfort his lonely soul. Ron just looked sad and uncomfortable, and uncommonly pale. He nodded as Harry turned to him, watching as his friend returned the gesture, before turning to his girlfriend, who tentatively stroked his cheek. Harry bent over, and kissed her gently on the lips, before turning back to Remus, squaring his shoulders a touch, and following him out of the hall.

Dumbledore stood up slowly, nodding to all that remained at the table, before walking quickly out of the room, his robes flourishing, almost like the formidable Potions Masters'.

Fortunately, they were able to Floo through to the Ministry where the will reading would be taking place. Harry had flatly refused, without saying a word to Portkey there anyway. The events of his fourth year were always close to his mind. Dumbledore let him use the fireplace in his office, handing him floo powder, and reminding them that he would be following immediately, with Remus going before them to act as a scout. At this, Remus gave them a small smile, before taking a fistful of powder and being swallowed by the emerald flames. Harry swallowed, before taking the proffered floo powder, the fine silvery grains streaming out of his hands and falling onto the carpet, where they magically disappeared. Tossing the powder into the fire, he yelled

"Ministry of Magic, Floo Room." Before stepping into the licking pea green flames, and feeling his breakfast try desperately to meet his mouth again.

Staggering slightly as he fell out of the fireplace into the Ministry of Magic's Floo Room, he was helped to gain his balance by Remus, who, with his worn tweed suit and silver-dappled hair, looked slightly out of place in this room. The walls were a bright and intense aqua, the floor was covered in orange and red checkerboard tiles, which seemed spelled to remove dirt automatically. Harry watched, after being pulled aside so that Dumbledore could follow, as the thick sooty marks seemed to melt into the floor, and there was a sudden fragrance of jasmine, presumably to cover up the smells associated with magical fireplaces.

Dumbledore followed quickly, and Harry once again marvelled that everyone else seemed to be able to keep their balance in the wretched things. However, the feeling was quickly replaced with the pervading one of sadness at the task they were here to accomplish.

Then, after exchanging silent glances, Dumbledore walked onwards to show them the direction, with Remus following behind ('Almost like a bodyguard.' Harry thought for a second.). The old wizard led them down a long, empty corridor, decorated with dimmer colours than the entrance room – the walls a pale green, the floors pale beige. ('Fairly restrained for wizards.' The more carefree part of his mind thought.)

They finally stopped outside of an ordinary-looking door, labelled 'Gibbs and Hestell Wizarding Lawyers' in flowing golden script. Through this door, a bored-looking secretary in lemon robes gestured them into a side room, before returning to her desk, and flicking her wand at her painted nails, as if undecided as to what lurid colour to leave them. All this Harry saw, before Remus tapped him on the shoulder, and with a slight sheepish smile, turned to face the room.

It seemed as plain as the corridor, with cream walls and a deep blue carpet. Directly in front of them was a large mahogany table, on which sat a pitcher of water and several glasses, and a few sheets of paper. To his left, there was a crackling fireplace, but judging by the neutral temperature in the room, Harry guessed it was just for show. The only other occupant of the room, Harry noticed, when he emitted a small, dry cough. This man was short, about four foot in height, and reminded Harry strongly, and with a shudder of Crouch at the Quidditch Cup. He had a wrinkly, unpleasant face, s toothbrush moustache in greying black, and matching, heavily styled hair. His black robes seemed almost dusty, and just a little too big.

Dumbledore gave him a quick nod and sad smile, before he could begin, giving Harry a particularly unpleasant smile.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore. Remus Lupin, I presume?" he turned small grey eyes onto Remus, who nodded. "And of course, Harry Potter. Pleasure, I'm sure. My name is Mr Gibbs, and I will be dealing with your case today. I'm sorry for your loss." The words sounded wrong, and Harry was sure that he didn't mean them at all. However, he nodded politely, and moved to sit down as they were gestured to the table.

"We are here today for the reading of the will of one Sirius Black." The man stated, glancing around as if to check this with them. When he saw no disagreement, he carried on. "Now, Mr Black arranged with us, after the demise of his parents, to have his will recorded with the popular and rather expensive consigno testamentum, and as such, it was released from our files on the date of his, aha, death." Harry felt himself dislike this man as he continued, but remained as calm as he could. Shame that Hermione hadn't been permitted to come; he really could do with some telepathic reassurance.

"As the deceased wished, I am not to be present during the time in which you will hear the will, he saw fit to state that he wanted you all to have some privacy." He sniffed, but continued. "If I can leave it in your capable hands, then, Professor, I have other work to be getting on with." At Dumbledore's nod, he left, his robes not so much sweeping, as dragging along the floor. As the door creaked shut, Dumbledore turned to face Harry and Remus.

"Are we all ready?" Remus nodded, but Harry thought this might be a good time to mention that he didn't have a clue as to what was going on.

"Um, Professor, what did he mean by conigno testamuntam?" Dumbledore smiled at the perplexed look on Harry's face.

"It's consigno testamentum, Harry. It means that Sirius recorded his will magically. A bit like on a muggle television, so that we can see him as he speaks to us." Harry's throat constricted. Sirius was going to talk to them? Ok, not Sirius, but a recording of him? However, he nodded, not trusting his throat to let him speak, and let them continue. Dumbledore pointed his wand at the sheaf of papers Mr Gibbs had left, and sat back down, a strange look on his face. Harry couldn't see Remus' face, but he was soon distracted from his thoughts, by the coloured plume of smoke rising from the papers. Harry watched, half-amazed, as it rose to form an almost life-like figure of his godfather, slightly transparent as if a ghost, but still coloured. He looked incredibly young, his clear blue eyes cheerful, an easy grin on his face. Harry suddenly realised – this was a Sirius before Azkaban.

"Hello? Hello? Is this thing on? Damned spells, you never can tell. Hasn't worked twice in a row now! Anyway, if this is working, I'd better start, hadn't I? Right. Ahem, this is, obviously," here the apparition grinned, "the last will and testament of me, Sirius Black. I am not really of sound mind, never have been, but that never made a difference, did it?" the apparition laughed, eyes twinkling into the distance in a way that made Harry's heart and stomach clench, and his eyes sting. For a second, he thought he heard a teary chortle from Remus, but had no time to speculate on this, as the recording continued. "Now, I know who's there, Remus, old pal, Professor Dumbledore, and of course, my godson, Harry Potter." Harry filed a thought to ask Dumbledore or someone later how he would know that, and continued to listen.

"Right, the will. You know, that lawyer guy, he's really crabby. Complaining about foolish boys taking up all his time. Should get a life. Oh, alright! The will! Fine!

I'm leaving the Mould Hole, such as it is – what, you need me to call it that, just because my stupid family-? Oh, just this once then. Start again. I'm leaving the" here he cringed "'Most Noble and Ancient House of Black at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, to my all-time buddy and Marauder, Remus J. Lupin. Hope you like it mate, but it could do with a clean! If necessary, you can use it for other matters, Professor." Here he nodded in what he presumed would be the Professors' direction, and failed miserably, instead gesturing to the water pitcher. "What else is there? Hmm, oh yes, and Harry can live there too, if he wants or has to. After all, we don't know what's going to happen, do we? Money I see next on the agenda. Whatever remains of it can be split half and half between Remus J. Lupin and Harry J. Potter. Buy yourself some decent robes, this time, Remus." This time there was no mistaking the half-sob from the man on Harry's left, but short of trying to comfort him, Harry was at a loss as what to do.

"What else, what else?" The apparition Sirius stroked his chin with his hand; reminiscent of a film Harry had once seen. "Harry can have my broom; Remus was never one for flying, and if he takes after his dad, he's gonna be one hell of a flyer. Remus can adjudicate over the rest of my more personal belongings, as he knows me best, and I can't sit here all day and list them. Same goes for my wand, though for a different reason – I can't be asked to decide!"

"That's all, I think, as guardianship is out of my hands, so to speak, so I'll say farewell to you all, one last time. Goodbye, my dear friends, Remus, Harry, Albus."

With that, the apparition faded, and seemed to coil back into its smoke-like form, and sink back into the sheaf of papers. All was silent for several minutes, in which all three of them unabashedly sniffed, Remus obviously trying not to break down and sob, Harry relentlessly brushing away his tears. Even Dumbledore had out a remarkable handkerchief – bright purple with sparkling stars, which seemed to be spelled to stay dry – and was dabbing at his eyes.

Dumbledore was the first to speak, quietly, and bringing the other two out of their teary reverie.

"Well, best be moving on now that's done. We just have to have a few signatures, and then we'll be returning to Hogwarts." Harry nodded, still wiping his eyes on his sleeves, spoke quietly, his voice hoarse and thick with tears.

"Sir, do you, I mean, is it ok if, well, could I have a copy of that?" Dumbledore looked across at the young teenager for a second as he tried to compose himself.

"Yes, Harry. I was planning on retrieving a few copies of it to take with me, and I'm sure I can persuade them to make a couple more, Remus?" The werewolf seemed to be more composed now, as he replied, but he still didn't match their eyes.

"Yes, if it's not too much bother." Dumbledore nodded, and performed a complicated looking spell on the sheaf of papers, the string of latin echoing slightly, as the periwinkle spell encompassed it, before several more identical sheaves appeared, which he than shrank and slipped in his pocket. Then, flicking through the original pile, he came across three separate papers that were obviously forms, before handing them to Harry and Remus, taking one himself, and taking three quills for them to use out of a pocket.

The form looked something like this.

Name:

Age:

Relation to deceased:

Occupation:

Domicile:

If applicable, current parent(s) names or guardian's name:

Harry quickly filled it in with his scratchy black handwriting, and after a few moments thought, coughed, to get someone's attention. How was he supposed to put guardian when Sirius was dead, and after what the Dursleys' had done to him? The thought that they where still his legal guardians seemed terrifying to him.

"Yes Harry, is there a problem?" asked Dumbledore kindly, looking up from his own form, covered by loopy emerald writing.

"Um, the last question, parent or guardians name…" Harry said uncomfortably, not looking up. He didn't notice the glance Remus and Dumbledore shared over his head, before Dumbledore answered carefully.

"Well, at the moment, I think we should just leave that blank. I'll have a word with Mr Gibbs before we leave." Harry nodded at the table, before handing his form back to the headmaster. After taking Remus form (with neat, cursive sapphire writing), he walked out of the door, and the two remaining occupants, Harry and Remus, stared at the table, and at the wall, respectively. They remained silent as they left, Mr Gibbs giving them all a grimacing smile, and a grating "Have a nice day", and the secretary vacantly smiling, before returning to her now fluorescent yellow nails, glowering at them critically.

The Floo ride home, for Harry, passed in a blur, until he realised at the other end that he could walk out of the fireplace without falling to the floor.

'Maybe it has something to do with how much you are concentrating on it?' He wondered, before turning to the silent headmaster and Remus, who seemed to be recovering a little. Or at least looking like he was recovering – Harry knew there were some things people liked to keep inside, from personal experience.

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Review Responses

Gryffindors – Thank you, and as for your question, well maybe? wiggles eyebrows mysteriously It's a good chance, though maybe not yet. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!

EbonyBeach – Yo mate! Thanks for the support, though I'm not sure where the 'pot of tea' comment came from…? LOL

WriterLady1031 – You really brightened my day, thank you! This was a really nice review grins and I'm glad I gained a fan. I'm incredibly impressed that a proof editor is reading this (really, I am!) and if you can only find a few faults, well, yippee! Hope you liked the latest chapter.

aight – Sure!

PK fan – Well, we fans all know Harry can be a bit, proud (idiotic) sometimes, and I feel it's a rather irreplaceable part of his character. And he doesn't know squat about the staff and his powers yet, but hopefully he's learned his lesson now… We can but hope. Maybe having to have his memories rebooted will put him off next time? Regards to you too (and all you guys) and hope you like this chapter.

Harmony8390 – Oh no, your poor cheeks! Hope this one relaxes your face muscles a bit (though you might've needed the klennex). Hopefully the next posting will be better timed (I'm getting peeved at myself about this) though.

Reviewers please, do me a favour. REVIEW!

FireOpal.