Chapter 8 - Brittle Dragon
Hermione arrived at Harry's door in a flash. The room was darkened and the door was locked shut. A whispered and risky 'alohomora' dealt with the lock and she entered the room with silent steps, wand in hand. As soon as she cleared the door, a wand tip touched her neck.
"Drop the wand," a serious voice whispered in her ear.
The young witch cursed internally, blaming herself for the impulsiveness in wanting to see her friend. This had almost killed her at the Ministry, and now she was at the mercy of an unknown. Without option, she let the wand clatter to the ground. Immediately the wand at her neck disappeared, but she could sense it was still hovering close.
"Now, Ms. Granger, care to tell me why did you sneak up on us?"
"Wha...? Us?"
The light was turned on, and she finally noticed what was going on. Harry was snoring softly on his bed, and the person who had disarmed her was an older woman, but not much so, dressed in comfortable sleeping clothes.
"Who are you? What happened to Harry?" she asked, finally noticing the swelling on his face.
Dudley finally arrived at the door, being followed by Hermione's mother.
"The swelling is my fault," the fat teenager said, winning a glare from both new visitors.
"Before you go jumping into conclusions, allow me to explain and introduce myself. Name's Mac Xavier, I'm Harry's Occlumency teacher. Harry was attacked earlier tonight by Voldemort, and ole snakebreath was in the process of turning my student's brain into roadkill. Dudley here tried to give him some thing for the pain, but Harry wasn't being very cooperative, so he decided to do it in a more . . . er, physical way, hence the nice shiner he's now sporting. But don't worry, he's under a potion now, and I've reinforced his shields for the night, I believe he'll have a peaceful night," she said, while grabbing Hermione's wand and handing it back to her.
She looked between Harry and Mac, growing even more confused. Occlumency teacher? Harry hadn't told her anything about it to her on his letter.
"Ah, Dudley, Immie is sleeping at the guest room, she told me she wouldn't bother you with her sleeping arrangements," the woman, Mac, said to Harry's cousin.
"What about clothes, bed sheets and pillows?" Dudley asked, curious.
"Magic, remember?" she replied, smartly.
"Ah, yes. I think I'll go to bed then, you think you'll manage with them?" Dudley asked, pointing to the new visitors. "You can help yourselves at the kitchen, I don't think mum will bother much after all that has been happening."
"Don't worry, we'll manage. And Dudley, Harry heard the argument, and his exact words were 'Finally someone I can like in this damned family.'"
The fat young man smiled sheepishly. "Well, I guess it was worth it, then. Ladies, a pleasure," he said, and walked to his room.
After he locked the door to his room, Hermione regained her voice. "What was that?", she asked, dumbfounded.
"I think I have a lot to explain. Can we go to the living room? Harry's the only one under a potion, and as much as I don't care about the senior Dursleys, there are other people sleeping up here," Mac said, pointing to the stairs.
"Sure," Angela answered for them both.
After the Granger women were seated at the sofa, the American woman conjured a tea set and a cup of coffee for herself.
"Now, I believe you ladies want an explanation," Mac said, after everyone had taken a sip of their chosen beverages.
"That would be appreciated. I'm Angela, Hermione's mother, by the way," the older woman said, politely.
"A pleasure. I can see that the looks run in the family," she said, to which the woman blushed prettily, Mac giving an internal smirk. Angela could easily pass for Hermione's older sister. "Well, first I have a question, I believe you are a day early, aren't you?"
"Hedwig came to my window early tonight bringing a note saying that Harry was in trouble, he was in a lot of pain. I sent it forward to professor Dumbledore and convinced my mother to come and see him tonight. And how do you know me?"
Mac was curious, why did the owl contact Hermione, and not the Headmaster straight away? Or perhaps another older wizard?
"How do I know you is part of the explanation. I believe you got a letter from Harry about a day or so ago, right?" To the witch's nod, she continued. "In the meantime, several things happened, some of them good, some not so good. I think you'll have to ask Harry about some of it, since what I'm telling you is second hand information. Harry met a woman yesterday, Imogen Cheatam, she's the one sleeping in the guest room. She was also the lawyer of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, and she had a mission of delivering a series of things to Harry, and to help him against Voldemort."
"The will?" Hermione asked, somberly. One thing she would never forgive herself for.
"Nope. Books, Sirius' diaries, a few documents and things of the sort," the occlumens teacher said, correcting her. "She was also aware of how the Dursleys were treating Harry, but Harry himself asked her about not calling the Child Protection Services, there are some situations that make this impossible for now. Besides, some things had already started changing regarding the dynamics between Harry and Dudley," Mac said, and the young Gryffindor halted her with a gesture.
"I thought Dudley hated Harry, or at least that's what I've always guessed," the younger witch said.
"He did, but something happened to Dudley this last year and it got him thinking. The result is that they are trying to mend almost sixteen years of bad blood between them, and it seems to be working. What it is about, you'll have to ask Dudley himself," Mac said, and took another sip of her coffee. "Let me continue," she said, and the women nodded again. "So, Harry met Imogen and they talked. One of the things he asked her was to find a decent Occlumency teacher, one who wouldn't end up either in awe of the Boy-Who-Lived crap or scared the first time VoldieMoldie decided to drop on by unannounced. Thus, she got me, and to prove Harry I was the real deal I broke a rule from the manual and did a quick scan of his most recent memories, he had just read your reply and the ones from Ron and Ginny, and that's how I knew you."
"Oh, so you'll be the one that will teach him instead of Professor Snape?" Hermione asked.
"Snape, that's the name of the idiot who did that? And he is a professor? Who would be so idiot to put another idiot in a position of teaching? The man is a rapist, for Christ's sake!" the occlumens ranted.
"Rapist?" both Hermione and Angela screamed.
"Legilimens are taught from early on to follow a strict set of rules, one of them is the one who forbids another to invade an unwilling mind. And seeing how Harry's shields were almost non-existent, he did it by using brute force. It was painful and worthless, what the man did was effectively mind-rape the boy," Mac said.
"But professor Dumbledore said that he was supposed to teach Harry how to protect himself from Voldemort using occlumency," Hermione said, growing scared and worried with the mental picture she was forming.
"Teaching occlumency? By using Legilimiency? That's bullshit!" Mac said, almost screaming
"Language, Ms. Xavier," the other two replied at the same time.
"Sorry, and it's Mac. Anyway, occlumency is a painful subject to teach, and we don't use legilimiency until the student has some measure of self-protection or at least the ability to tell the teacher when he doesn't wish the teacher to see a memory. What the man did was, in comparison, to teach Harry how to be a carpenter by hammering nails to his forehead." The comparison made hands go up to the aforementioned body part almost instinctively.
Angela was growing angered by the second. "Doesn't anyone love that boy upstairs? Why does he have to suffer so much?"
The artificial redhead gave a sarcastic laugh. "You don't know the half of it. Immie ended up discovering a biggest pile of crap than Harry already had, it seems that his relatives were skimming the money that was set up to take care of him to pay for this home, car and gifts for Dudley, while Harry himself was left with nothing but leftovers, if that."
Hermione promptly grabbed her wand, the knuckles on her hand going white with the effort. "Too bad I still can't do magic out of Hogwarts," she said between gritted teeth, her mother not far behind. Mac put a calming hand on her arm.
"Don't worry, either of you. Measures are being taken to deal with the waste of space upstairs, and they are too scared of Immie, myself and Harry to do anything else. As for the rapist, I'll deal with him as soon as I meet the idiot."
It was a hard pill to swallow, the Hogwarts student thought, but it seemed that Harry was being taken care of by competent people, who, if not family, were at least friendly.
"Excuse me, Ms. Xav. . . Mac, but you said Harry himself told his lawyer not to call CPS, even with all he's been through. Why is that?" Angela asked after a while.
"Blood protection, mum," Hermione answered instead, "I forgot to tell this to you and Dad, it seems that when Harry's mother sacrificed herself for him, she ended up setting up a blood protection with him, but to do that he needs to stay near his mother's blood for a while during the year. It is the safest place for him outside of Hogwarts, if you do not consider his relatives' actions."
Angela didn't understand it, but she knew the daughter she had, and decided to take it on face value.
"Look, I know things were not easy for Harry, but I believe that now there are people who are doing what they can so the boy can have the best life possible. Immie, myself, you ladies, even Dudley. So, at least for tonight, let's try to have a good night of sleep and think things better in the morning."
"You're right. I think I'll start the car, we can come back tomorrow," Angela said to Hermione, who simply nodded sadly. She wanted to talk with Harry, to see with her own eyes and heat from himself if he was all right.
"Don't do that, it is too late for you to return home tonight, besides you're both tired. We can set up something here, don't worry about accommodations," the American woman said. "Hermione here can even help me, from what I know she's the best student of Hogwarts."
"I can't do magic outside of the school, remember?" the student replied, still saddened.
"I don't think it will be a problem, Harry did some magic around here earlier today and last night, and so far we didn't have a whiff of a Ministry Owl. I guess that the old codger reinforced the wards around here, and they blocked the detection of spells."
"Old codger? Headmaster Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, surprised. "He was here?"
"Yeah, old Albie tried to do a voyeur in my head without my authorization, I didn't like it and kicked him out," the redhead said angrily, still pissed with the attempted invasion.
"Why did he do that?" the young witch asked.
"He doesn't know me, and I believe that he thinks I'm a risk to Harry. He could have asked, I could have answered. He didn't, I took exception. Two beds?" she said, cutting the conversation short.
Angela nodded, with a slight smile to her face. She had never seen her daughter doing magic, Hermione had always said that it was forbidden outside of school.
"You do the beds, I do the sheets and everything else?" Mac asked Hermione, having noticed the look in Angela's face.
"You sure this won't be a problem for Harry or me?"
"I don't think so, besides Immie is here, if the Ministry sneezes, she'll kick their collective sanctimonious, empty-headed asses. Will you both yell 'Language' every time I curse?" she asked, changing subjects right in the middle of the conversation.
"Probably. That reminds me, language, Mac," the now not-so-bushy-haired brunette said with a slight smile.
"You're wasting your time. I curse like a sailor on a five-day bender. And you know what, I think I'll contaminate you, your tight-lipped-stuck-up-your-asses attitude is annoying, and I'm not talking about you in particular, Hermione. Now, beds? I was right in the beginning of a dream with Angelina Jolie."
The young student looked surprised for a moment. "You're a lesbian?"
Remembering her lesson from early on and deciding to give people the benefit of a doubt, the occlumens replied. "Yes, why?"
"Nothing, just curious. I do like to study, as you probably already know, and I do think people make an interesting subject. Never met a lesbian before."
Mac smiled, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder, who flinched slightly, hand moving to the wand but stopping as soon as the brain registered. The teacher noted it was an act of self-defense, more than any grievance against her sexual option or the fact she was holding her. Her heart tearing a bit, Mac spoke.
"Look, Hermione, I know you're a bookworm and you love to study, and while I can't condemn you about it, a small lesson is required. You don't live so you can learn everything that is to learn, you live because of the simple pleasure that is living."
"I don't understand," Hermione said, curious. "I do enjoy my life."
Mac sighed. "Okay, answer me a question then, when was the last time you smelled a flower just to feel its fragrance instead of testing to see if what you read about the smell in a book was right?"
Hermione remained silent.
"Or when was the last time you kissed someone on the mouth just for the heck of it?"
To this, the young Gryffindor reddened, blubbering an answer. "N-never k-kissed anyone on the mouth."
"See what I mean?" Mac said, crossing her arms and smiling. "Besides, from what I've already realized, Hermione, you'll be in too deep in this damned war. Learn to enjoy life while you can."
Hermione looked to her mother. "Don't look at me, I tend to agree with her, just not so much on the kissing for the heck of it. And I'll add something to what she said, not all lessons are in books," Angela said.
"Harry will need you, Mione, not as the genius you are, but as the friend you've always been. Leave the books for a while and start helping him other ways, it'll be best for the both of you," Mac finished. "Now, can we go back to Bed-Making Magical Way 101? Jolie's lips are waiting for me," the lesbian said, winking.
"Oh, all right. Tell me, are you always this open with people?" the young witch asked.
"Not as a rule, no, but it seems that Harry has a habit of turning everyone around him into a rule breaker."
"I know," Hermione said, smiling. "Mum, step aside for a moment?" Angela promptly answered by staying near the stairs.
With a quick swish of her wand, the sofa and the central table suddenly turned into two identical beds, and Angela noticed they were exact copies of Hermione's own bed at home. Mac then swished her own wand and bed sheets, six pillows and two extremely soft looking comforters were laid on the beds.
"I guess it is too hot for the comforters, but you never know. I'll leave Hermione to deal with the sleeping clothes. And don't worry about breakfast or the senior Dursleys, Immie and I will deal with it in the morning. See you ladies tomorrow, have a nice night."
Mac climbed the stairs, back to her bed in Harry's room. To Hermione and Angela it was still a long night of hushed conversation and very little sleep.
Harry woke up feeling rather relaxed, the pain he felt last night was now just a bad memory. Extricating himself from the tangle of his sheet and his own pajamas, he climbed out of bed just to notice that the changes made to his room the previous night were gone, the extra bed where Mac had slept was nowhere to be seen, neither was Mac.
He finally noticed a note sticking to his closet's door.
Harry,
If you read this before me or Immie are back, then don't worry. She needed her power suit and I do need some things from my stuff. We'll be back by the time you need to be at Gringolds, or whatever the name of the place. And you have a guest waiting for you downstairs, Dudley sent your owl for some help last night before we arrived, and the crazy bird somehow ended up at the Grangers. So brush your teeth and make yourself slightly presentable before scaring the guests, okay?
See you soon,
Mac.
Harry smiled. Hermione.
He went to the bathroom, which thankfully was empty, and took a quick shower. He went back to his room and dressed in some nicer clothes, a polo t-shirt in a deep forest green, a dark beige cargo pants, socks and his boots. He stashed his wand in one of the pants' pockets and went downstairs. He heard the noise coming from the kitchen and walked in, with a smile in his face.
The room was crowded, and thankfully it only held people he liked. Remus, Immie, Mac, Dudley, Hermione and another woman that he concluded was Hermione's mother.
"Hey, guess who joined us, Sleeping Beauty!" Mac intoned with a smile.
Heads turned his way, and something happened when he locked eyes with Hermione. His breath halted for a moment longer, and he thought to himself, since when did Hermione turned into such a beautiful woman?
The same happened to Hermione, only in her case, the action was followed by a deep blush. An attentive observer might have noticed the small smirk present in Mac's face, who was at the moment checking something that Immie was reading with interest, but that was as far a reaction that someone had, aside from the duo directly involved.
"Hello, Harry," Remus was the first to talk to him.
Harry approached and gave the man a hug. "Hey, Moony. I guess this is it, huh?" he said in a small voice.
"Yes, I guess so," he answered back, and Harry noticed the shudder the last man worthy of the title of a Marauder gave away.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we must be going," Imogen said. "Since you woke up so late, we'll have to postpone your breakfast for a little late. After the reading, we can sit up at the Cauldron and eat something, my treat."
"Sure," Harry answered, becoming more and more introspective. Hermione noticed it, and approached him.
"Hi, Harry," she said, and embraced him in a bone crunching hug.
"Hello, 'Mione," he smiled slightly.
"I'd like to introduce you someone. Harry, this is my mother, Angela Granger," she said, and the older woman approached.
"Really? If I didn't know better, I'd say she's your older sister," he said, and it apparently was the right thing to say, because the woman sprouted a dazzling smile. "A pleasure, Mrs. Granger. Sorry for the accommodations last night, but this house isn't exactly set up for a lot of people," he said, stretching his hand.
Angela bypassed the hand entirely, and mimicked her daughter's bone crunching hug. "Don't worry, Harry. Can I call you Harry? Good. I'm Angela. As I was saying, don't worry, it gave me the chance to see my daughter perform magic for the first time since she started Hogwarts. Besides, we came uninvited and in the middle of the night and by doing that we knew that we could end up having the door slammed in our faces," she said.
"While I live here, never," Harry said, which brought a smile to Hermione's face.
"Okay, time to go, the Goblins aren't very fond of late people, and besides I've invited an old friend to join us," Imogen said, removing a piece of rope from her briefcase. "Harry, you have the Black's signet ring? You might need it."
Harry shook his head negatively, and scrambled back to his room to pick the jewel. In a few seconds, he was back at their sides.
"Who's this old friend?" he asked, grabbing a piece of rope, everyone else except Dudley and Angela doing the same.
"You'll see," she said with a smile.
"Wait," Harry said, halting Imogen's action. "Dud, want to come with us? And you, Mrs. Gr… Angela?" he asked.
"I have to get back home, I have a patient later today, besides Hermione needs a change of clothes and some personal belongings. I'll come back later with everything," Angela answered.
"Can I?" Dudley asked after the other woman had spoken, surprised.
"Sure, just follow our lead, and if something happens, find somewhere to hide and wait for someone to come and get you, okay?"
"Okay," he said, and grabbed the end of the rope. Imogen tapped it with her wand, and the familiar tug behind navels signaled the activation of the portkey.
In less than a moment, Harry was landing quite hard on the floor of the Leaky Cauldron.
"The best Seeker at school and he can't learn to land properly," Hermione said, helping him to stand up.
"I will, someday. Just wait and see," Harry replied with a small smile. Imogen walked in the direction of Tom, asking him to guard a table for them for later.
"Okay, let's go," she said, and they went to the back. The lawyer tapped the bricks and Dudley's mouth fell as soon as he saw Diagon Alley.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Mac asked, to which the boy only nodded.
Harry noticed that Mac was walking with a cane, and he approached her. "What happened?" he asked, pointing to the cane. She was all right last night.
"This?" she said, lifting the cane. "I suffered an accident a long time ago, and before I could be taken to a Magical Hospital, I ended up being treated in a norm one."
"Norm?" Harry asked.
"What you Brits call muggles we call them norm. Anyway, I ended up with a platinum replacement at the top of my femur, which took forever to heal. And I couldn't simply disappear from the Hospital, we do have less laws regarding magic mixing with norms, but we are a careful bunch of people. When I got out, I went to a decent Magical Hospital, got the damned replacement removed and after a dose of Skele-Gro I was back into action, but something had already been damaged by the norms, so sometimes I do get some pain in my hip, hence the cane. But don't worry, this is a two-fold deal," she said, while they walked to Gringotts.
"How so?" he asked.
Mac looked around for a few moments, and since no one seemed to be paying attention to them, pushed the head of the cane slightly from the body, showing a small piece of sharpened steel. "I ended up having a ton of lessons on fencing and I'm quite good at it. Since we are dealing with VoldieMoldie, I decided on being prepared," she said.
"Good policy," he said, his planning mind suddenly taking another spin. "You know, I could learn how to use one of those," he said.
Mac looked at him. "Why am I not surprised? Let's think on how and when, okay? Besides, you will need equipment, a fencing foil, the suit, or we could learn the free style, if you want."
"Free style?" Harry asked, curious.
"Fencing is generally an exhibition sports, you have all the protection needed and you win by scoring points. I've learned it as such, but my master taught me beyond that, he taught me how to use it for real in combat situations, much like the Musketeers used to," Mac answered.
"Basically, how to kill people, right?"
"Yes," she answered seriously.
"Okay, let me think about it," he said.
"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere for the next few months."
Harry smiled sadly and kept on walking. He noticed a wizard reading a copy of the Prophet, and the cover article had a picture of something that seemed like rubble, and a Dark Mark hovering above it. In huge bold letters the article screamed. Ministry Official Attacked. Death Eaters Destroy Bones Manor!
"I need to buy a Prophet," he said to his lawyer.
"You can borrow mine later, we can even go visit Madam Bones if you wish, but right now we do have an unfortunate meeting with the Goblins. I know you don't want to go there, and I agree with you, but we need to. Think of it as closure," she said, holding his hand and giving it a small squeeze.
Harry nodded, and kept walking. The group arrived at Gringotts, and Imogen got Remus and Harry to a side.
"From here on, just us. We should take about an hour to settle everything," the lawyer said to the rest of the group.
"Don't worry, we'll walk around and meet you back here," Mac said, to which the rest of them nodded.
Parting ways, Harry, Remus and Imogen were taken to the presence of a Goblin. Waiting with him was a man, about the same age of Imogen, about six feet one, with sandy brown hair, gray eyes, a goatee and wearing glasses.
"Imogen," the man said, and gave her a small peck on the cheek.
"Hello, Len, how are you?"
"I'm fine, lass. Long time no see," he said, in a heavy Scottish brogue.
"True, but first introductions are in order. Carlen Ewen, let me introduce you to Harry Potter. Harry, this is a good old friend of mine, Carlen. He's a financial adviser, and I called him here so he could explain any doubts you might end up having regarding what Sirius left for you," Imogen said.
"Hi," Harry said.
"Hello, Harry, you may call me Len, all me friends do. And I was talking with me good friend Grabshrunk here, we shouldn't have a problem handling whatever Sirius left for ye," Len said amiably, pointing to the goblin currently sitting behind a desk.
"Thanks, but I believe Mr. Lupin here is also entitled for a share of whatever Sirius left behind, right?" Harry said, pointing to the werewolf.
"Sure, where are me manners? Carlen Ewen," the adviser said, shaking the offered hand.
"Remus Lupin. I've heard about you, Mr. Ewen. People say you're a genius regarding money investments," Remus said, to which the man reddened slightly.
"Jus' doing me job the best that I can, Mr. Lupin. Besides, having a friend like Imogen here is the best payment a lad like me might have," he said with a smile.
Grabshrunk gave the goblin equivalent of cleaning one's throat, and everyone took their seats.
"Hello, Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin. You were both called here to hear the reading of the will of Sirius Orion Black, which we shall proceed to do in a moment. But first, I need the signet ring of the Black family," the Goblin said, producing a small wooden box from below the table.
Harry removed the ring from his pocket, and offered it to the goblin.
"I need you to wear it, Mr. Potter," Grabshrunk said.
"Oh, sure," the young wizard said, and put it on his middle finger on the right hand. The ring glowed blue for a second and Harry noticed it had resized to fit his smaller finger.
"Very good, now touch the box and state your full name."
Harry put his hand on the lid. "Harry James Potter."
The two locks on it opened automatically, and a moment later another box appeared right behind the first one. Every eyebrow in the room rose, even the goblin's. He checked the other box for a few moments, and turned back to Harry.
"Interesting, Mr. Potter. Somehow, by opening Mr. Black's will, you ended up fulfilling a magical contract regarding the Potter's will as well. This box here contains your parent's will. It was supposed to be opened on the eve of your seventeenth birthday, but the loss of your legal guardian and the confirmation of such by opening his will accelerated the process. Now we are in a quandary, which one would you like to be read first?"
"My legal guardian? Sirius? But I thought that the Dursleys were my guardians," Harry said, surprised, and turned to Imogen.
"You got me there, Harry. I still haven't checked the documentation regarding your guardianship, but I thought your parents wanted you to stay with the Dursleys," Imogen said, even more surprised.
Harry made the connection instantly. "Dumbledore. But why?" he said, growing angered by the second.
Remus spoke after thinking about it. "I believe that Dumbledore still thought you were at risk. With your parents dead and Voldemort apparently dead as well, the Death Eaters would probably end up searching for you to try and finish you off as revenge, and Sirius was the first one they would look for."
"Do you realize what this means, Remus?" Harry asked, angered. "If I was with Sirius, he wouldn't have gone looking for Peter, wouldn't have spent twelve years on Azkaban and probably wouldn't have died, and I wouldn't suffer fifteen years of abuse in the hands of those people," Harry screamed, to which everything breakable in the room did, including his and Len's glasses. "Just to be his damned weapon," he murmured, only the werewolf with his enhanced senses hearing it. Harry, a weapon?
"I guess that my conversation with the Headmaster will be anticipated. Ohhh, yes," Imogen said, grinning ferally.
Harry controlled himself after a few moments. "Sorry about that," he said to the room in general.
"That's quite all right, Mr. Potter, it isn't the first time a wizard gets angered in here, and it certainly won't be the last," the goblin said, waving a hand and repairing most of the damage on the room, glasses included.
"If something is irreparably broken, I'll gladly pay for it," the young wizard said, surprising Grabshrunk.
"Don't be bothered by it, Mr. Potter, but it was very generous of you," the goblin said. "Now, which of the wills would you like to be read first?"
"Let's hear Sirius' first, then my parents'. One I know more or less what to expect, the other I'd like to have time to digest," he said.
"Very well," the goblin said, and opened the box with Sirius' will. From inside, he removed a small vial with a silver colored liquid inside, and a small note attached to it.
"This says, To Harry, for a good laugh once in a while," he said, and handed the vial to Harry.
"What's this?" he asked to the more experienced wizards on the room.
"I believe it is a memory for a pensieve," Remus said.
"I think I'll have to buy one," he replied.
"We can do that once we get out of here," Imogen said.
The goblin then removed another vial with the same liquid, with another note attached.
"To Moony, you need one as well. Who is Moony?" the goblin asked.
'That would be me. Childhood nickname," Remus said, and the goblin handed him the vial.
Finally, the goblin removed the sealed parchment containing the will. Harry looked to the document and his head lowered.
The goblin opened the seal and unfolded the parchment.
"This is the last will of Sirius Orion Black, current head of the Black family. To my good friend Remus John Lupin I leave the amount of one hundred thousand Galleons and the residence at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, with an addendum for it to be loaned as necessity dictates to the use of the Order of the Phoenix. Use them well, my friend, and know that nothing will ever repay the friendship freely given during all those years.
To my godson, I leave the remainder of my earthly possessions, as described in the addendum to this Will, plus the title of Lord of the Crown, as issued by Our Majesty the Queen, by services rendered during history. Harry, this Lordship business is just for show, I can't even remember who won the bloody thing and why, but I couldn't let it simply go to Hell. Anyway, use the women wisely and the money sparingly. Or is it the other way around?
Sirius Orion Black"
Harry gave away a small saddened chuckle with the last joke of Sirius. "It is finally true, isn't it?" he asked to a downcast Moony, who only nodded.
They hugged each other, tears falling freely for a while. A few minutes later, Harry composed himself, and the goblin gave him the will, the addendum and the key to the Black's vault.
Harry asked Len to approach and handed him the addendum. "Can you make any sense of these things?" he asked to the adviser.
The man looked the document briefly, the only reaction of surprise was a brief raise of an eyebrow. "That's really a lot of money, lad."
"Could I get Sirius back with it?" he asked.
"No," Len replied, saddened.
"Then it is worth nothing. But don't worry, I won't go mental and spend it all," Harry replied.
"I don't think you could, Harry. It is a lot of money," Len repeated.
"Yeah. Can we go over my family's will?" he asked the goblin.
"Of course, Mr. Potter. Do you wish to go to a more private setting?" Grabshrunk asked.
"No need, they are my friends and advisers, I'd like them to stay, if possible," Harry said.
"Not a problem, Mr. Potter. Please, repeat the operation, put your hand over the box and state your full name," the goblin said, pulling the other box to the front.
"Harry James Potter," he said, and again, the locks popped open.
Inside, there were fewer items than in Sirius' box. Grabshrunk removed the first one, a small oval locket with a stylized 'P' engraved on it, held by a thin golden chain. Harry opened the locket, and inside there was an image of his parents holding a months old Harry in their laps. It was a park somewhere, and they looked extremely happy. The Boy-Who-Lived stood mesmerized for a few moments.
"Can I proceed with the reading, Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked.
"Sure, go ahead," Harry said, closing the locket and putting it around his neck and hiding it inside his shirt.
"This is the last will of James Regis Potter and Lily Evans Potter. This should be simple and straightforward. We leave everything that we have to our son, Harry James Potter. If you are hearing this, Harry, this comes with an apology.
Sorry we couldn't be there for you to see your seventeenth birthday, your mother hopes you will be a fine and beautiful young man with a heart of gold, and so do I, my son. We wrote this a few days before going into hiding, and if it all goes as expected, then we'll be having a good laugh over this silly will in a few years. If not, do know that we loved you very much, son, and hope for the best for you.
Everything we could save from our home is stored in the vault at Gringotts and if you ever need a place to hide, home will always be the best place, it is where your heart is, and remember, once a Potter, always a Potter.
We love you, son.
James Regis Potter
Lily Evans Potter"
"Thank you. Could we go check the vault?" Harry inquired, a single tear making a trek over his face.
"Of course, Mr. Potter, however you alone can enter the vault. Anyone else would suffer a painful death. I'll call someone to assist you."
"Thank you, sir," Harry said politely, surprising Grabshrunk.
"You are most welcome, Mr. Potter. Hope to be doing business with you soon," the goblin said.
"I hope so," Harry said, and a moment later another goblin was entering the room by a side door. Harry recognized the being immediately. "Hello, Griphook."
Griphook looked to Harry with something akin to surprise.
"Mr. Potter, a pleasure. I don't think you would have remembered me," the other goblin said. "Wizards in general do not pay attention to us."
"Well, I'm not your general wizard, right?" he replied sadly.
"That, Mr. Potter, you are not, and I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you. Shall we go?" Harry asked, standing up.
"Over here," Griphook said, indicating the side door.
"We'll wait for you at the lobby, Harry," Immie said to him.
"Okay," he replied, distraught.
After a ride in the cart, to which Harry paid no attention, they arrived at a huge door vault, with a crest made of what looked like gold and silver. The crest was a stylized phoenix with two swords crossed at its back, and a scripted letter P at its front.
They disembarked from the cart, Harry holding the lantern for the small goblin.
"Put your hands at the door," Griphook said, grabbing the lantern from Harry.
"Do I need to say my name?" the wizard inquired.
"No, the door will recognize you in a different way."
Harry did as told, shaking slightly. Suddenly, he heard a voice in his head. It seemed like Legilimiency, but softer.
"So, you are my last descendant. To whom I have the honor of speaking?"
"H-Harry. Harry Potter. And who are you, sir?"
"I am but a shadow, but if you wish for a name, you can call me William. So, do you wish to enter?"
"I-if I can, sir, I'd like to," the wizard replied.
"Then please, do so. It is always an honor to receive another Potter," the voice said and muted. The next moment, the massive door opened.
Behind of it, there was pitch darkness. Harry paid no attention to it, and walked in.
As soon as he set foot inside, torches began lighting up automatically, showing a huge space, probably as big as the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The entire vault was so filled with money that the coins were making piles into every available space. Aside from money, there was furniture, statues, paintings, trunks, weapons and all sorts of stuff. But what caught Harry's attention immediately was a letter resting atop a slightly old-looking trunk. Written on the outside was his name in a flowing script.
He opened it quickly but with care.
"My beloved son Harry,
If you are reading this, it means that we are not there with you to share this moment, but hopefully Sirius is, and he annoyed you enough with tales of us. The trunk under this letter contains the mementos to join those tales, plus what we thought was the most important things from this vault.
Before you do anything else, open it up and remove the ring box resting on top of everything else. To open it, do as you would do with the Map."
Harry folded the letter and intoned.
"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," and tapped the lid with his wand.
The locks opened, and he removed the box, giving a brief look at the rest of the stuff inside. Controlling the urge to check everything, he closed the lid once again and returned to the letter.
"As you've realized, the idea for the password came from your father. Now, please put the ring on your finger, and no matter what you do, DON'T TAKE IT OFF."
Harry removed Sirius' ring from his right hand and put it back on his left one. The new one he put on the place he had removed the previous one, and the ring glowed a fiery red for a few moments, an exhilarating sensation of well-being spread through his body. He kept on reading after the ring adjusted to his size.
"It is the Potter family ring, and aside from enabling you to enter Potter Manor, it is an emergency portkey. Just will it to activate and you'll be transported to the manor, with whomever else you're holding at the moment.
It, and the locket you've received with our Will are going to be very important, but the explanation for them can hold for a while.
Now, to take the trunk with you, tap the uppermost bolt of the frame on the lid at the right side three times.
There are more things to be said to you, son, but the family vault isn't the best place. So take the trunk with you and go somewhere comfortable, hopefully with a loved one and Sirius.
Till the next letter, with love,
Mum."
Harry folded the letter, not really knowing if he should laugh or cry. A trunk full of memories. He tapped the bolt three times and the trunk folded unto itself several times, finally turning into something roughly the size of a deck of cards. Harry grabbed the small trunk and stored it in a pocket, with the letter. He gave one last look to the vault, deciding to come back at a later date.
Griphook was dutifully waiting for him outside.
"It is a lot of money, isn't it?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter, yours is a fairly old family, there is even an unconfirmed legend that the first Potter on these lands was the great-grandfather of Godric of Gryffindor."
Harry's eyes goggled.
"Wicked!" he exclaimed, borrowing a page from Ron's vocabulary. "Tell me, Griphook, the Founders had vaults?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter, they did, but to see them you must have the key to them," the goblin said.
"I wonder who has the keys to such a vault," Harry mused.
"Keys come in all shapes and sizes, someone might have it and not even be aware that he's holding it," Griphook said enigmatically.
Harry thought about it for a second, but shook his head.
"My friends are waiting for me, Griphook. Let's get back."
As soon as Harry stepped out of the vault, the massive door locked behind him. They climbed the cart and started the trek back to the surface.
"Could you make a list of everything that is in my vault and what I actually inherited?"
"Easily, Mr. Potter, as soon as we are back at the lobby."
"Thank you."
Harry arrived back to a sea of expecting faces. Hermione was the first to act, repeating the strong hug from early.
"Hey," she said, buried in his neck. "Are you all right?"
"I don't know how I am right now, but I have a lot to think about," he replied.
Immie approached him.
"I don't know how you are for breakfast, but I do know that ice cream is a great thinking food," the lawyer said, almost as if reading his mind.
"Right she is, Harry," Len said. "Come on, all of us, my treat," the financial adviser said, clasping him on the shoulder.
Griphook approached, bringing a sheet of parchment with him.
"This is what you asked of me, Mr. Potter. We hope that you'll keep doing business with us," the goblin said.
"I'll most certainly do. But I think Mr. Ewen here will be doing most of the business in my name, if this isn't a problem," Harry replied.
"No problem, Mr. Ewen is an excellent professional and he's considered a goblin friend," the small creature said. "Until next time, Mr. Potter."
"Bye, Griphook."
Harry handed the parchment to Len, who was near the exit.
"Here, see what you can make of this," Harry said, without even looking to the paper.
"Sure," the man said, briefly checking the paper. He stopped walking, Imogen bumping at his back.
"What?" Imogen asked, while Harry walked away, going after Hemione, Mac and Dudley.
"Do you know who that wee lad is?"
"Harry, why?"
"'Harry why' is now probably the richest wizard on the planet and one of the richest muggles, and he doesn't even care about it."
Imogen wasn't that surprised, neither was Remus, who approached having heard the conversation with his enhanced senses. "You know a little of what he's been through, would you be any different?" the werewolf asked.
"I don't know," he said, after thinking a bit. "And what should I do with his money?"
"What do you mean?" Lupin inquired.
"My clients usually trust me to turn them richer, but I don't think Harry will even care about this. So, what should I do?"
Imogen, in turn, smiled slightly. "Harry has a plan, Len, and I can bet some galleons he's thinking how you and the money fit in those plans. But now, let's focus on ice cream, shall we?"
"After you, lass," Len said politely, and Lupin followed right behind them, tapping the vial with the memory resting inside one of his coat's pocket.
Harry was walking to Fortescue Parlor with Hermione at one side and Mac to the other, Dudley still in awe a few feet behind. People on the street were noticing him and he was growing more and more worried.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he groaned low.
"What?" Hermione asked, looking around.
"People are starting to notice me. This is not good," he replied.
"Calm down, it's broad daylight and there are Aurors nearby. Not even Voldemort is that stupid," the young witch said, looking around discreetly.
Suddenly, several loud pops were heard right down the street. In their wake, a dozen Death Eaters appeared in full regalia.
"You were saying?" Harry looked to Hermione.
"Oh, bloody hell," the witch cursed.
"Let's find somewhere to hide, this place will turn into a war zone," Mac said, pushing Harry by his sleeve. The panic had already set in, and people started running in several directions, away from the evil wizards.
The Boy-Who-Lived was about to follow her when the best seeker reflexes of Hogwarts noticed that one of Voldemort's followers was holding on to something, or better, someone.
"They have a hostage," Harry said.
"Wha . . . Har. . ."
Time froze to Harry James Potter, the same way as it did when he noticed the snitch during a game of Quidditch.
He locked the position of each enemy player on his mind, in this case the Death Eaters, the field, or better, the Alley and the other players between him and the snitch, or hostage.
". . ry, don't be stupid," Hermione said.
"I have a plan. Mac, give me your sword."
Harry felt the not-so-delicate invasion of his mind by his teacher, who got his entire plan with the speed of thought.
"Good luck," she said, while unsheathing her sword and giving it to him. "We'll distract them. GO!"
Harry bolted, sword in one hand, wand in the other.
"WHAT?" Hermione screamed, looking to the Occlumency Master.
"Scream later. Follow my lead!"
Harry ran pell-mell to the Eaters, he believed he had around fifteen seconds of distance to the man holding the hostage.
An eternity, by his accounts.
He dodged right, trying to hide his well-known face in the sea of running bodies, and then Mac's first spell crossed the air faster than he could follow. The ground a couple of feet in front of the Death Eaters started spewing smoke and sparks, like a firework. Hermione copied the movement a second later, her own spell hitting the middle of the group.
Twelve seconds.
Confusion had set among the wizards, and to help it further, Harry sent a couple of bludgeoning spells among them in quick succession. They were packed so tightly together that he ended up hitting four of them.
Ten seconds.
The Eaters started fighting back, four different spells going four different ways. Luckily, none hit a living body, but a large window from one of the stores blew up.
Eight seconds.
Harry sent a Reducto spell right in front of the farthest Death Eater. The ground exploded as if a grenade had hit it, sending two more flying away.
Six seconds.
The Death Eater holding the hostage noticed him, but the dead weight on his hands was making it impossible for him to use his wand.
Four seconds.
"There, Potter!" the masked figure screamed to the man right at his side.
Three seconds.
The other Eater noticed the running boy with green eyes and scar and pointed his wand to him. Harry cast a Protego spell without breaking his pace.
Two seconds.
"Avada Keaaaargh!" the man screamed, his hand falling to the ground still holding a wand.
One second.
Time stopped again for the young Harry Potter. He was right on top of the Death Eater, and he noticed a brief flash of something black and metallic disappearing in the confusion. Harry swung the sword straight at the arm holding the hostage, opening a severe cut in it. The Death Eater let the body go, screaming, and Harry promptly dived to it, holding firmly.
Several wands pointed to him, and in a brief flash, the air was covered in a coruscated rainbow of spells.
Harry, thankfully, was no longer there. Nor was the hostage.
They reappeared on an empty hall, a place that Harry had last seen when he was less than a year old.
Potter Manor.
Thank Merlin, the ring had worked.
Harry felt the body groan, and he gently put it on the ground. The heavy black shroud covering him seemed like an overly large Death Eater robe, but it was stained with blood and very dirty. The young wizard then proceeded to remove the garment, having great care while doing so, it could still be a trap. The legs were badly broken, and one of them had a piece of bone sticking out of the skin. The abdomen was so heavily covered in bruises that Harry couldn't say its original color. He was naked, and someone had singed his parts with fire, the pubic hair almost completely gone. All of his fingers were broken, and his left arm was dislocated as well. He was bleeding from several different cuts, spread through his body.
The Gryffindor then finally arrived to the head, it was so swelled that he didn't recognize the face. The hair had been apparently ripped from his head by large clumps.
The hair.
That's when Harry recognized the young man he was currently holding.
"Malfoy?"
Author's Notes: Yay, another cliffie. Heh. Sorry about the long delay in posting, but RL's being nasty to this fanfiction writer here. Be ever thankful that my faithful Palm is a wonder and I have a long journey from home to work and vice versa on a bus, most of this chapter was written using a stylus. And once again thanks Brian, CJ, J, Len and Mac for the input and the friendship.
Next chapter, Harry is at his old home with a near-death Malfoy. How will he solve the problem? Is it another trap?