CHAPTER FOUR -- Last Will and Testament

When Harry awoke the next morning, it took him a moment to remember where he was. The cold grey room was familiar, yet not familiar, as if something half remembered from a dream. Then in a rush, the happy memories of the previous night washed over him. Balloons, streamers, a real cake, presents and friends all around, the car ride back to Grimmauld Place. Harry remembered stumbling into the dark front hallway and leading a very sleepy Hermione up the stairs. He remembered the few remaining portraits glaring at him from the walls, looking spooky in the flickering light. He remembered how quiet and empty the house had seemed. He lay in bed for a few minutes staring at the ceiling, listening to Ron snoring in the bed next to him, trying to collect his thoughts.

But his thoughts were far too scattered and numerous to be collected. Part of him was excited to be away from the Dursleys and back with people he cared about and who cared about him. Another part was quietly rebelling, silently screaming inside his head that he didn't want to be back in this house where every inch of floor or wall, every portrait, every chair would remind him of his horrible mistake. Unable to reconcile his mind, Harry knew he would no longer be able to sleep, so he got up quietly, dressed, and left the room.

At first he headed down, but hearing voices from the kitchen below, he changed his mind and reversed his direction. He found his feet taking him all the way to the room at the top of the house where Sirius had spent much of his time with the stolen hippogriff Buckbeak. Figuring on paying Buckbeak a visit, Harry pushed open the door.

"Good morning Harry."

"Professor Lupin!" Lupin was standing near Buckbeak, patting the huge grey creature affectionately as the hippogriff made strange soft keening noises. The huge horse legs were tucked up underneath him, and he was lying on a palate of what might once have been a large ornate bed.

"I was just feeding our friend here," Lupin said, gesturing to a large bucket nearby with a dead ferret in the bottom. Harry tried to smile, but found he didn't have it in him. He nodded and turned to go.

"Harry," Lupin said quietly, "I was hoping for a chance to get you alone. I have some things to tell you." Lupin tossed Buckbeak the last ferret and overturned the bucket, making himself a seat. Reluctantly, Harry grabbed a crate from the corner, and sat opposite him as Buckbeak noisily crunched the bones of his breakfast. The jovial air and happy countenance Lupin had worn last night at the party had vanished, and Harry once again found himself looking into the tired, sad, world weary face of his one time professor.

"After Arthur was injured last year on business for the Order of the Phoenix, many of us in the order decided it would be best if we all had our affairs in order," Lupin began. "Most of us took the opportunity to make out our wills and leave instructions, just in case anything was to happen." Harry felt a lump growing in his throat. He wanted to stop Lupin, to tell him he didn't want to hear, but he found that his voice had left him. He clenched his hands into two fists in his lap and stared at them, bracing himself for what he knew was about to come.

"Sirius and I had a long discussion about it at the time, and Sirius decided to leave his estate -- this house, and everything in it -- to you, Harry." A cold chill went down his back. All of this? His? He felt his stomach turn over as he thought of himself living cooped up in this big house all alone the way Sirius once had.

Lupin reached into an interior pocket of his shabby robes and drew out a roll of parchment, which he handed to Harry. Harry took it and unrolled it grudgingly. The words at the top written in fancy script read "Last Will and Testament" and at the bottom, he saw Sirius' familiar scrawled signature. Quickly he rolled the parchment back up, almost crumpling it in the process and shoved it back at Lupin, who was watching him intently.

"I don't want it," he said hoarsely. He stood up suddenly. "He doesn't owe me anything! I--" Lupin held up his hands, and took the parchment back.

"Harry! You can't legally take possession of any of it until you come of age next year anyway." Lupin stowed the parchment carefully back in his robes as he studied Harry as though he were a bomb that might explode if he made any sudden moves. "If you decide then that you still don't want it, well, we'll decide what to do with it. Until that time, Sirius named me as executor of his estate on your behalf, so you don't have to make any decisions now."

He paused and shook his head sadly. He too stood abruptly and paced away from Harry to stare out the grime covered window into the equally grimy street below. "You know, when we talked about it, I never really believed it would come to this," he said softly, almost to himself. Harry stared at the back of his head. His hair was now more grey than brown, his robes were threadbare as always, but Harry sensed a new defeat in the man: something hinted at in his stooped shoulders and his hesitating gait. "I never believed I would lose my best friend again..." he whispered, the words almost inaudible. He paused for a long moment before continuing.

"Sirius had such vitality when we were young! You don't know how strange it was to see him after Azkaban: tired, broken, his spirit gone. When I saw him that night in the shrieking shack, I hardly recognized him." He turned around to face Harry then, a small sad smile on his lips. He took a few steps towards him. "But you changed all that, Harry! You gave him a reason to keep on living. He survived those twelve long years in Azkaban on hate, but you gave him hope. When he talked about you, or spent time with you, I saw my old friend again. I could see that vitality back in his eyes, that spark of mischief and --" he faltered. "I don't know. Love I suppose, though if you'd asked me 20 years ago, I never would have said it was possible." He laughed a bit flatly. "We used to say that Sirius would never love anything more than himself, but it wasn't true, even then. He loved all of us more than himself." He sighed softly and put a hand up to his eyes and turned away from Harry. His grief was palpable. Harry fought the prickle of tears he felt behind his own eyes.

"Professor Lupin... I'm sorry," Harry whispered, burning with shame, and knowing that no words could ever be enough to convey what he was feeling. Lupin's head snapped around. His eyes no longer looked tired or sad.

"Harry!" he said loudly. "I'm not your professor any more! I haven't been for two years!" Lupin looked frustrated and almost angry. "I know I'm not your godfather -- I'm not Sirius -- and I understand why your parents didn't choose me, but that doesn't mean I didn't want the job!" He took another step towards Harry, his eyes wide and filled with some emotion Harry couldn't place. "Why can't you call me Remus?"

Harry stared at him. Frankly, the thought had never crossed his mind. At Hogworts, conduct and protocol were strictly enforced. Lupin was his professor, his mentor, an adult and an authority figure. Of course, he was also his friend, but it had never occurred to Harry to address him as an equal. And yet, Harry realized, Lupin was right: he'd never had any trouble calling Sirius by his first name.

"I'm sorry... Remus," he said, forcing his voice to be stronger than before. Lupin gave him a tired smile.

"I don't want you to be sorry, Harry," he said emphatically, sitting back down on his bucket. "I want you to be happy. It's all any of us wants, though we seem to be doing a rotten job of it sometimes." Harry sat back down on his crate, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to reassure Lupin that he was happy, but he feared his words would sound hollow and cheap.

Lupin reached into his pockets again and began fishing around for something. "I had this for you last night," he said, "but once we got there, I don't know... I just couldn't bring myself to give it to you in front of all those people." He drew his fist out of his pocket and, with his other hand, reached for Harry's hand.

Lupin held Harry's hand out, palm up, and dropped something cool and heavy from his own hand into it. It was a small, round, gold amulet, a little larger than a bottle cap, on a long chain. Harry turned it over and saw that there were a number of strange markings on both sides of the amulet, making concentric rings around a bright red stone in the center. He discovered that each of the separate rings turned independently of the others. He looked up at Lupin, confused, as Lupin pulled a matching amulet out from within his robes, worn on a similar chain around his neck. Then he passed Harry a small square of paper.

It was an old, tattered, stained, black and white photograph of Harry's father and his group of friends. James, Sirius, Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew stood side by side, looking a little younger than Harry, each smiling broadly and proudly holding out four matching amulets for Harry to see.

"James found the first one," Lupin began by way of explanation, "in a second hand shop in Hogsmead. The owner told him it was very old and part of some powerful charm. He probably made that up though, to be able to charge more for it, because we never could make it do anything. But we liked it all the same, so James showed up with one for each of us one day. They were like an insignia for us, for the Marauders." He paused, looking at the picture. Staring down into the young happy faces, Harry realized that Lupin was the only one of the four left. James and Sirius had been killed by Voldemort, and the Peter Pettigrew from the photograph was as good as dead, having joined Voldemort and betrayed them all.

"That one," Lupin said, pointing to the amulet in Harry's hand, "is the original that belonged to your father. We'd been talking about it for a while, and we thought, Sirius and I, that you should have it." Harry stared down at the amulet, a feeling something akin to awe rising within him. It was one thing to have photographs of his parents, and even to have his father's old invisibility cloak, but to be given something precious of his father's by one of his -- two of his best friends somehow meant a great deal more. He felt Lupin's hand rest heavily on his shoulder and he looked up. Lupin's face was quite serious, his eyes grave. "You're one of us, Harry," he whispered. "One of the Marauders. I suppose you always have been, because you are so very much your father's son, but Sirius..." He paused, a pained look on his drawn face. "Sirius wanted it to be official. And so do I."

Lupin picked the amulet up out of Harry's hand and very seriously and ceremoniously placed the chain over Harry's head. Harry felt the comfortable weight of it against his chest and ran his finger over the raised markings.

He tried to say thank you, but no words came out. Unbidden, a hot tear ran down his face. Embarrassed, he quickly tried to wipe it away, but he saw that Lupin's eyes also were glistening. Lupin grabbed Harry's shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug.

In the photograph, the four original Marauders grinned and nodded, clapping one another on the back, as they looked up at their newest inducted member.

"Watch it Ron! You're going to burn the toast!" By the time Harry and Lupin made it downstairs to the kitchen, the entire house was awake. Ginny and Hermione were supervising breakfast and, apparently, having trouble with their sous chefs. Ron was trying to make toast by sticking a piece of bread on the end of his wand and holding it in front of the fire. Tonks had bewitched a broom to sweep up a large quantity of broken crockery that Harry had no doubt was her doing. Ginny was busy scrambling eggs and frying bacon at the stove, and Hermione was setting the table with pots of jam, lumps of butter, and pitchers of cold pumpkin juice.

"Don't just stand there laughing!" she said to Harry curtly. "You can get the silverware," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "and what's left of the plates!" She rolled her eyes and glanced at Tonks. Harry grinned despite himself and tucked the amulet inside his tee shirt before he began pulling plates and forks out of the cupboard, as Lupin went over to rescue Ron -- and his wand -- from the toast.

Amazingly, they managed to get breakfast on the table without anyone getting seriously hurt, and they all sat down to enjoy it.

"Can't wait for Mum to get back from Romania," Ron said with a mouthful of toast that was burned on one side and still soft on the other. "What with Fred and George eating nothing but cereal or beans straight from the tin, and us having to cook for ourselves, I haven't eaten properly since she left!" Ginny and Hermione glared at him. "Not that this isn't, excellent," he added quickly.

"What's she doing in Romania?" Harry asked, helping himself to more bacon.

"Well, she's trying to help Charlie recruit more members for the Order," Ginny said sagely. "Hopefully she'll be bringing some of them back with her to meet with Dumbledore."

"Is he here?" Harry asked. Tonks shook her head. Today her hair was emerald green to match the green and yellow argyle sweater vest that she wore over a pale yellow tee shirt.

"He's busy with other things, but you'll probably see him at the meeting in a few days." Harry shrugged, wondering if he really even wanted to see Dumbledore. Things had been so strained between them last year, especially after Sirius died, and Harry wasn't quite sure he was ready to face those kind old eyes again, knowing what he did now.

"By the way," Hermione asked, looking around suddenly. "Where's Kreatcher?" Harry felt his stomach clench at the thought of the traitorous house elf. Lupin shrugged.

"I expect he's gone to one of the other members of the Black family."

"But I thought he had to stay in the house!" Ron said thickly around a mouthful of toast and jam. Hermione shook her head knowledgably.

"House Elves are tied to the family, not the property Ron."

"Lucky for us," Lupin continued, "he somehow managed to take Mrs. Black's portrait with him." Ron snorted.

"Good! The two foulest things in this house should stick together!" Hermione shot him a black look.

"Potter!" came a harsh voice from the doorway. Harry jumped and turned to see Mad-Eye Moody clomping into the room on his wooden leg looking every bit as grizzled and war torn as Harry remembered. "Granger here tells me you've been injured doing a bit of Muggle fighting." Harry turned to glare at Hermione whose head was bowed very low as she absorbed herself in buttering her toast.

"Stand up so I can get a good look at you!" Moody commanded. Reluctantly, Harry pushed back from the table and stood up, a painful twinge in his side coming right on cue. Harry watched as Moody's oversized magical eye revolved independently, looking him over from top to bottom and he found himself feeling a little self-conscious under Moody's all-seeing stare. Moody made a grumbling noise and took a step closer to Harry, bending down and poking him in the side.

"Ouch!" Harry yelped.

"Just as I thought!" Moody barked. "Fractured rib." Hermione gasped, but looked quickly away from Harry's menacing glare. Moody straightened up. "Hold still, Potter."

Harry watched as Moody slowly drew his wand from its holster on his hip and aimed it at Harry. "Emendo!" Moody said jabbing the wand at Harry, and a small glob of bluish white light emerged from the tip. It flew straight to Harry, and hovered in front of his face for a minute, then began to circle his body, starting at the top of his head, and making its way slowly down. When the light passed the scab on his lip, Harry felt a warm tingling sensation, and again even more when the light paused for a moment at the site of his fractured rib. The light circled him more quickly as it made its way down and finally dissipated when it reached his feet. His side no longer hurt at all and, putting his hand up to his lip, he found that his scab was completely healed.

"Blimey!" Ron said, sounding impressed, "What was that?"

"Healing spell," Moody replied, taking a seat at the head of the long wooden table. "It works by going over the whole body and healing whatever it can. Handy thing to know, out in the field."

"Missed his glasses though, Mad-Eye," Tonks said thoughtfully as she pointed her wand at Harry's face. His eyes widened a bit. "Occulus Repairo," she said, and Harry's glasses wiggled back into shape on his nose. He glanced around, and Hermione smiled apologetically at him.

Moody settled himself down in his chair and took out his hip flask. "Now Potter," he said firmly, "want to tell me who you were fighting with?"

Harry sat back down at the table and shoved his eggs around on his plate. "My cousin Dudley," he said, without looking up.

"Are you the one that broke his nose?" Lupin asked, trying not to look amused. Harry nodded.

"Good!" Moody barked suddenly, making everyone jump. "I always knew you could take care of yourself, Potter, wand or no wand!" Tonks rolled her eyes.

"Really!" she said, sounding exasperated. "I don't think it's anything to celebrate that Harry can beat up that fat tub of a cousin of his." Everyone laughed, except Moody. He leaned over and growled hoarsely at Harry: "Never underestimate your opponent! Constant vigilance!"

"So how was it living with Fred and George?" Harry asked. He and Ron were unpacking their trunks. Ginny was curled up on Ron's bed marking a quiz in The Quibbler, and Hermione was sitting on Harry's bed petting Crookshanks, her hairy ginger cat.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Not as fun as it sounds," she moaned. "Imagine having to inspect your breakfast cereal every morning to be sure there isn't a bit of nosebleed nougat hiding in it!" Ron snorted.

"And once they figured out we weren't stupid enough to test their new products for them, they actually put us to work in the shop!" He looked at Harry with indignation. "Our own brothers! Can you believe it?" Harry quickly suppressed a grin and shook his head.

"At least they paid us though," Ginny said with a grin.

"Sweden was nice," Hermione volunteered. "Did you get my postcards, Harry?"

"Yeah, thanks," Harry said, closing his trunk and sitting on it. "Hey, and thanks for the party last night," he added, looking at Hermione. He suspected it might have been her idea. "It was... amazing!"

Hermione beamed at him. "Well," she said, "I didn't think you'd ever had a proper birthday party, and we all thought you could do with a little cheering up."

"Did you see old Dudley's face?" Ron laughed. "That'd cheer anyone up. He looked like he thought we might turn him into a slug or something at any moment."

"Yeah!" Harry said, relishing the memory of how good it had felt to be the center of attention at the Dursleys' for once in his life. He loved thinking of how jealous it must have made Dudley to watch him open all those presents all by himself.

"--and did you see when Fred and George offered him that piece of cake?" Ron roared.

"Mind you," Ginny added, "he was smart not to take it!"

"I never really knew how awfully they treated you, Harry," Hermione said softly as the laughter died down. "I mean, I knew they were beastly to you, but I didn't know they locked you up like that!" Harry nodded, not knowing what to say.

"So why were you really fighting with Dudley, anyway?" Ron asked changing the subject. "I mean, other than the fact that he's a slimy fat git with the brains of a flobber worm..."

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "He just said some stuff to me about hiding behind my magic, and about Sirius, and making fun of this girl I met, and I guess it just finally got to me." Ron was staring at him, sitting bolt upright on the edge of his trunk.

"Girl?" he said insistently, "What girl?" Harry immediately wished he hadn't mentioned Gwyn. He felt his face getting warm as Ron and Hermione and Ginny all stared at him expectantly.

"I don't know. Just this Muggle girl I met..."

Ginny giggled. "Harry you're blushing!" Ron looked at Harry suspiciously.

"Is she pretty?" he asked.

"Well... yeah, I guess she's..."

"Well," Ginny prompted, "what's her name? What's she like?" Harry sighed.

"Her name is Gwyn," he acquiesced, "and she's from America."

"And she's a Muggle?" Ron exclaimed.

"Oh Ron!" Hermione chided. "You say that like it's a disease!" Ron frowned and ignored Hermione to look at Harry.

"Did you kiss her then?" he demanded. Harry blushed furiously again.

"What? No! Ron!" He shoved Ron hard so that he fell off his trunk onto the floor. He looked up at Hermione and Ginny, who were barely containing their giggles. "We just hung out together," he said pleadingly, "that's all! I don't even fancy her!"

Ginny rolled over on the bed in a fit of giggles, apparently not believing him one bit. Hermione was obviously trying to remain above the hysterics. She rolled her eyes at Ginny and asked loudly "What was she doing over here? Visiting relatives?"

"Her dad's a kind of ambassador," Harry shouted, trying to drown out Ginny's laughter. "They're living here in London, and she gave me her phone number so maybe I could call her..." This last was obviously too much for Hermione who cried "Oh!" and put her hands over her mouth trying to hide her grin.

"What?" Ron demanded. "What does that mean?"

"When a Muggle girl gives a boy her phone number, it means she likes him, Ron!" Hermione said, and she too dissolved into giggles. Harry could hardly stand it.

"It does?" Ron asked, confused.

"Not always!" Harry insisted.

"What does a phone number have to do with liking someone?" Ron asked, still looking very confused.

"Oh just shut up about it will you?" Harry said, looking from one face to the next. "We just hung out once or twice, OK?" He frowned menacingly at Ron who looked like he wanted to ask more questions. "Dudley thought it was really funny too, and it earned him a broken nose!"

"Sorry Harry," Hermione said, biting her lip to stop herself from giggling. "But how are you planning to call her? There's no phone in the house." To be honest, Harry had been wondering that himself ever since Gwyn had given the phone number to him.

"Well," he said slowly, "I thought I'd go out and find a pay phone." Hermione sat up suddenly and looked at him very seriously.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Harry," she said quietly. Harry frowned.

"Why not?" Hermione looked at him as if he'd just asked her the answer to one plus one.

"It isn't safe!" she cried. "You're safe when you're inside because this house probably has every protective charm ever written placed on it, but the minute you set foot outside into the street you'll be vulnerable." Harry frowned, and opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione wasn't finished.

"Haven't you noticed that everyone is taking an awful lot of trouble to keep you safe? I mean, you didn't think Lupin and Tonks and Moody are just having a nice holiday here did you? They're here to protect you, Harry! It's the reason that the Order's been holding meetings all summer, and the reason Mrs. Weasley is in Romania! It's the reason you had to go back to that awful house this summer where they lock you up and treat you like an animal!" Hermione's eyes were glistening, and her voice was beginning to sound slightly hysterical.

"I don't see what any of that has to do with me making a stupid phone call!" Harry said hotly. Hermione suddenly stood up from the bed spilling Crookshanks onto the floor.

"You may not realize it, Harry, but everybody's worried about you! Dumbledore is trying his best to protect you and keep you safe and I won't let you put yourself in danger and negate all the hard work he's done, so don't you even think about setting one foot outside this house to call that girl or I will hex you into next week!" Hermione glared at him and then defiantly turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. Ron and Harry stared at one another in shock.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked, slightly in awe. Ron shook his head.

"I don't think I'll ever understand what she's about." Ginny snapped her magazine shut in annoyance.

"You two really are as thick as you look, aren't you?" she scoffed, leaving to go comfort Hermione.

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A/N: Wow. I had to write and rewrite this chapter a bunch of times until it had the impact I wanted. I'd love to know if it worked for you! Please leave me a review! Pretty please!

Also, I'm looking for a beta who is an expert on canon and good with Brit slang. Please email me if you're interested.

Thanks!

Lacy