Disclaimer: No, surprisingly enough the characters of Harry Potter do not belong to me. Only Tris, her family, and her friends. Nor do the lyrics of the Three Doors Down Band.
Author's Twaddle: I have a preposition for everyone. When you review, tell me a word that you think is funny sounding…like mitosis, or bully (Think about it – bully, bully, bully, bully – very strange sounding word.) And if you do, I'll reward you. You might find that the next chapter will be dedicated to you. Fun stuff, eh?
This particular chapter is dedicated to Jessica Hatchet and Estora.
Jessica Hatchet, for reviewing every chapter. Thanks so much! Your reviews mean more to me than you'll ever know!
Estora for encouraging me to keep it up. You really got me going. I saw how you kept plowing on with your story even though things were stressful and it motivated me to get going. After reviewing your story and getting your reply I sat down and finished the chapter off. I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 5 : Landing in London
The rest of the dance passed like a whirlwind. Harry and Tristan barely left each other's side for the entire night. Harry had never felt so giddy and happy before in his life. At one point he absently wondered if his stomach would ever catch up. The newness of the entire situation made his mind spin in both ecstasy and anxiety.
Their friends were not above teasing by any means. They all took a great deal of pleasure from heckling and poking fun at the new couple. Harry found he was to happy to care. The comments that would have annoyed and embarrassed him before simply didn't matter anymore. Tristan was taking it with good humor, even throwing a few lines back at them.
Harry walked Tris back to her house afterward. His face was starting to hurt from smiling so much, but there wasn't anything he could to do to stop. Tristan talked cheerfully to him on the short walk to her house. When they paused before it, Harry had to ask, hesitantly,
"Tris, you're happy about this, right? You and me?"
Tristan looked up at him thoughtfully for a second before stepping close to kiss him. "What do you think, you moron?" she asked softly, pulling away so she could look him in the face.
He rested his forehead against hers, breathing in deeply to calm his nerves. He looked her in the eyes and asked seriously, "Be my girlfriend?"
She kissed him in answer. He held her close, amazed for a moment that he was actually there, with her, and that she wanted to be his girlfriend. Hell, he couldn't believe that she liked him in the first place!
"I should go," she murmured. He sighed, kissed her one last time and let her go. Both headed to their respective homes and beds happier than they'd been in a long time.
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Despite his blissful evening with Tris, Harry was still plagued with nightmares. Some were the typical rerun nightmares: Sirius falling through the veil, Cedric's death, and Voldemort's return. But now he had a new nightmare, more real and horrifying than before.
Harry woke gasping for air, withsweat soaking his body and sheets. Weakly he tried to drag himself from the bed, but his trembling legs were unable to hold his weight. He hit the ground and, shuddering, leaned against a bed post.
He attempted to block the images from his mind but they had engrained themselves there, melded forever into his memory.
Blood pain tears please no help scream save me agony race red plead stop breath hurt crucio crucio crucio stop!
Harry felt his stomach churn and heave as the images of what he had witnessed played unwillingly in his head. He tried to choke down the vomit but it was no use. When he was done the smell made him groan aloud. He pressed a hand to his pounding temple. A vision. It had to be a vision. He hadhoped that he was done with those damn things!
It seemed like forever before he managed to get a hold on his emotions. He finally managed to stand on two feet, and he pulled on some sweat pants and a t-shirt before heading downstairs. He was as quiet as he could be when he ventured out of his room. The last thing he wanted was the Dursleys to wake up and see the mess he'd made of his room.
When he stepped outside he was immediately accosted by the order member who was on duty.
"Shouldn't you be in bed still, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, stepping towards him.
Harry turned to face her and she was shocked by his state of appearance. His hair was wilder than ever, and his face looked as though it had been completely drained of blood. The boy obviously hadn't noticed it yet, but there was a trickle of smeared dried blood on the side of his face, trailing from his scar. His expressive green eyes belied the panic and horror that came with the aftermath of the nightmare.
"I think that I need someone to train me better in occlumency - soon," his voice was hoarse and desperate. Minerva's normally stern face held an expression of growing concern. She stepped closer and took hold of his arm.
"I will speak with the headmaster about it," she promised, eyes searching his haggard face for a hint of what happened. Her guess would be that he had a particularly bad nightmare, but she wasn't sure that occlumency would help ward off nightmares. "In the meantime, would you like for me to send some dreamless sleep potion with the next order guard?"
Harry looked up at her, gratitude washing across his face like a wave. "Yes, please. Thank you, professor."
"Not a problem," Minerva answered briskly. The sun was just coming up to the east, and light began to flood Privet drive. "Now, Mr. Potter, if that's all, it would perhaps be best for you to step inside. The neighbourhood, I'm sure, is going to be up and about soon, and I had best get back undercover."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied, somewhat numbly. He meandered back towards number 4 and caught sight of the older woman changing into a tabby cat from the corner of his eye.
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Harry winced at the sight of his bedroom. The sheets on his bed were tangled and damp, and the mess he had made on the floor was leaking a sour odor into the air. He set to work, cleaning up the vomit from the floor and stripping the sheets from his bed. The images from his vision danced through his mind, slowing his progress down considerably. Harry hoped in vain that he would never have to witness one of Voldemort's sick games again.
It wasn't long before he heard the Dursleys stirring in the other rooms. The thought of cooking breakfast for them made his head hurt, and his stomach curl, but he knew that Uncle Vernon's fist would be worse. He force himself down to the kitchen. Fortunately for him, Aunt Petunia took one look at him and he was ordered to 'take a shower and at least try to look presentable in the company of others!'
Harry was more than happy to comply. The short, cold shower helped him to shed the grime and unclean feeling of the events that had started off his morning. By the time he was done the family had already fixed and eaten their own breakfast. Harry stopped to talk to them only long enough to tell them that he was going out and probably wouldn't be back till that evening. He took Vernon's grunt as acceptance and exited the house, happy to be free of the place.
The moment he reached the sidewalk, McGonagall came padding up beside him. She wove around his feet and Harry correctly guessed that she wanted to speak to him. The raven haired teenager switched directions and led the cat into a well concealed and relatively spacious area. Professor McGonagall made a professional transformation to her human form as soon as she was out of public sight.
"Mr. Potter," she began briskly, "I've been in contact with the headmaster and he asked me to deliver a couple of messages to you. The first is that Remus will be bringing you several texts on the subject of occlumency, and he is looking for a suitable teacher for you. The second message is that there will be a couple of Order members picking you up tomorrow morning to take you to Diagon Alley."
"Diagon Alley?" questioned Harry. "Am I going to be getting my school supplies, then? I don't have a list yet."
McGonagall hesitated and admitted, "I believe that your trip to Diagon Ally has to do with Sirius Black's will. The goblins have sorted matters out and confirmed that he has indeed…passed away. The will reading is being held tomorrow at Gringott's. It appears that you will be one of the benefactors."
Harry rubbed his stinging eyes and asked, "What time should I be ready by?"
"The Order members will be here at 9 o'clock."
"Thank you, professor," Harry murmured. "Is that all?"
"For now," conceded McGonagall. As Harry strode away, he reflected on how odd it was that he was now considered a benefactor of Sirius' death, when he would have give everything he owned for Sirius to be alive again.
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When Tristan's door came crashing open, the last thing that Harry had expected was Kurt pining him to the ground before Harry had even raised his hand to knock. Harry labeled his chances for getting out of this situation a lost cause and waited to hear what Kurt had planned for him.
"I've got him, Dad! And trust me, he's not going anywhere!" Harry eyed Kurt suspiciously and ventured a question.
"What the hell are you doing?" Harry demanded. Kurt grinned down at him.
"You don't honestly think that you're gonna get away with dating my sister scotch free, do you? No, no. There's a price."
"And you couldn't have mentioned this before? You knew that I liked her!"
"It must have slipped my mind."
"You're evil, you know that? That's it, I'm convinced. You suffer from a severe case of insanity."
"Dude, I don't suffer from insanity," when Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow Kurt continued gleefully, "I enjoy every minute of it!"
Harry groaned (which wasn't easy with Kurt sitting on his chest – the last thing that you could call Kurt was 'light') and made a weak effort at pushing Kurt off. With everything that he had gone through that morning – the nightmares, the vision, cleaning his room, Professor McGonagall informing him of the approaching will reading – Harry was in no mood to get ribbed by the Lindells.
Fortunately for him, David appeared in the doorway, calling, "Kurt, get off the poor guy!"
Harry was about to shoot the older man a grateful look when David continued, "How am I supposed to seriously talk to him if you're sitting on him?"
Harry stood up reluctantly, suddenly wishing that he was back on the ground with Kurt sitting on him. David beckoned to his daughter's new boyfriend and Harry followed him, anticipation and anxiety gnawing at his stomach.
It turned out that he had nothing to worry about. It was just a typical 'Father tells boy that he'd better take care of the girl or his guts would be ripped out in a painful and all around satisfying manner' talk. Harry came away relatively unscarred. He had an itching feeling that David was incredibly amused with his situation. By the time Tristan managed to smuggle Harry away from her overbearing family, Harry had the beginnings of a migraine forming.
Tristan was horrified. She took full responsibility for the pain that Harry had had to go through. Harry certainly didn't mind. For him, it was pure bliss to be able to rest his head in her lap and close his eyes. For awhile he managed to relax, almost falling asleep under Tristan's gentle, soothing hands.
That was the thing about having Tristan around. She could distract him from the dark times. When the night fell is around him, and Harry wasn't sure he could make it through, people like Tristan, Ron, Hermione, and Remus where his light. They guided him through and kept him going.
"I'm going away to London tomorrow," Harry finally made himself tell Tristan.
"Oh," Tristan's hands continued their methodical movement over his scalp. "Why?"
"My godfather…died…about a month ago, and I've been asked to attend his will reading, which is tomorrow. I'll probably also be getting some school stuff while I'm in the city."
"Are you going alone?"
"No. Some old friends of my parents will be picking me up," Harry replied.
"Like Remus?"
"Yeah, like him." Harry's green eyes were closed, so the soft kiss that Tris planted on the corner of his mouth caught him by surprise.
"I'm sorry about your godfather," she breathed quietly into his ear.
"Me too," he murmured back, kissing her back. Me too.
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The next morning was a strain on Harry nerves. He had spent the entire night in a fitful sort of sleep, apprehensive of the possibility of another vision. Professor McGonagall sent a message explaining that the Dreamless Sleep potion she had offered wouldn't be available until the following day. No vision came, but nevertheless, Harry had very little rest that night. The fact that he spent the entire night agonizing over the quickly approaching will reading, didn't help his anxiety. At all.
He also discovered as he prepared to make breakfast for the Dursleys that Aunt Petunia hadn't bothered to restock the fridge in a week. At the rate that the Vernon and Dudley ate their food, this was not a good situation. No matter how hard Harry worked to figure out a solution, his relatives were simply not happy.
By the time 9 o'clock rolled around, Harry was ready to get out of that by any means possible. The only reason Vernon hadn't gave him a beating all the way to Timbuktu and back was because he knew that Harry was heading off with his "freak" friends, and the huge man didn't want any trouble with "their kind." So Harry headed off, grateful that he was out of the house for the day and safe from Vernon's anger for a little while.
However, there was another unwelcome surprise waiting for him outside number 4. Severus Snape greeted him with a sneer.
Harry barely managed to hold in his groan of disappointment. He had hoped that Dumbledore would at least send someone that he enjoyed being with. Snape was (surprise!) not that person.
Snape hurried him into a car that was driven by one of the muggleborn members of the Order. Harry slid in and feigned sleep. Snape made no move to disturb him. The trip to Diagon Alley was made in tense silence with Harry hating his professor for his cold indifference. Once there, Snape led him without a word through the chaos that was the Alley to Gringotts.
Inside the wizarding bank, Snape headed straight for one of the Goblins. "Harry Potter here for the will reading of Sirius Black," he spat shortly.
The Goblin barely spared the two wizards a glance. "Blagrat! Harry Potter for the Black will reading!" A second, shorter goblin came scurrying up and beckoned for Harry and his professor to follow him. It wasn't long till the goblin stopped in front of a large bronze door.
"Sir, your name is not on the list of those to be admitted to the reading," Harry turned at hearing these words, confused. "Wha…"
It only took him a moment to realize that Blagrat was talking to Snape, not himself. Harry paused mid-word and hid a smile.
Snape scowled darkly and opened his mouth, presumably to bite the stocky goblin's head off. However, a familiar elderly voice stopped him in his tracks.
"He has been approved for admittance by the chief goblin," interrupted Headmaster Dumbledore. "I have an authorized note here that I have been instructed by Chief Harsmock to pass on to you."
A small, official note was passed between the elderly man and skeptical goblin. The latter examined the note thoroughly before waving the group in.
Harry determinedly avoided Dumbledore's twinkling eyes and stepped into the small chamber. Several people were already gathered, sitting in hard wooden chairs that had been set up for the occasion. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in the small group, along with Remus, Tonks, some other Order members, and a couple of people Harry didn't recognize. The raven-haired teenager flinched as a hand came down on his shoulder, belatedly realizing that it belonged to the Headmaster.
He was lead (or pushed) towards a small cluster of unoccupied chairs. Harry managed to sidestep the oppressive hand enough to slip into a chair between Remus and Tonks. Remus greeted him softly, while Tonks was her usual exuberant self. Harry managed a smile for both of them.
A goblin walked out and a hush fell over the room. Half the people gathered jumped involuntarily when he slammed the papers he carried onto a desk with a loud bang. A few smothered laughs echoed briefly through the room.
"So," croaked the goblin, "You are here to witness the will of Sirius Black. Most of you will benefit from these events. If you will not, you should not be here!" the last part was barked in the general direction of Snape. The greasy-haired professor said nothing, though the look that he shot at the goblin could have killed.
"We will proceed. Mr. Black left his will in the form of an Eral Image. Are there any questions before I activate the image?"
Yes, Harry wanted to say. What the hell is an Eral Image? A glance across the room showed that no one else was ignorant of that fact, and Harry absolutely refused to look like an idiot in front of everyone present. He kept his mouth shut and didn't meet Remus' eyes.
"Very well," the goblin continued, after a moment of silence. "We shall begin!"
The goblin bent over a small golden platform that was perched on the desk. He murmured a few indistinguishable words and leaned back in satisfaction. Seconds later a image sprang from the platform, large enough for everyone in the room to see clearly.
Sirius. Harry's mind reeled at seeing him again. The young man sat back suddenly, his emerald eyes blurring over. He blinked furiously, trying to dispel the tears that were threatening to spill over. A valiant effort was made to keep control, and Harry felt his breathing finally calm down. He was aware of Remus' hand on his own, lending strength and comfort. Harry took a deep breath and focused on the image as it began to speak.
"'Lo, everyone!" Sirius' voice permeated the room. Harry shuddered slightly at the sound. "If you're listening to this, it means that I've gone and done something incredibly stupid that you're all going to benefit from. I'm just going to keep this short and sweet, so listen up!
"Remus Lupin, I'm leaving the bulk of my assets to you. Grimmauld Place, Kreacher, and 50 percent of what remains in the Black Vault is now yours to use and hold as you please. And you better use it Moony! Make no mistake about it, I'm watching. If you don't use some of that money on some new clothes, I swear that I will hunt you to the end of your days. Savvy?
"To Arthur and Molly Weasley, I leave 20 percent of the money in the Black Vault. There's a good sum there for you to use. I also would ask a favor of you. If it is at all in your power I would ask you to continue in taking part of Harry's life. He obviously loves the lot of you Weasleys to pieces, and I would appreciate it if you would continue to care for him in my stead. Advise him, support him, and, if necessary, admonish him. Sorry, Harry, for throwing you into Molly's clutches. I do believe that you'll be the better for it, no matter how scary she can be."
Harry smiled at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and they returned the gesture. Molly wiped her eyes and sniffed loudly as Sirius continued.
"To Tonks I leave 10 percent of the assets in the Black Vault and the task of finding a way to get my bloody harpy of a mother of the wall in Grimmauld Place. Remus, because it's now your house, you have to share this exciting and joyous job with her. Isn't that great?
Sirius went on in much the same vein for the next bit. He split the remaining 20 percentof the Black Vault between the rest of the room, and bequeathed certain personal items to certain people. Jaclyn Bellings, for instance, was awarded a book that seemed to please her greatly. The significance of the book went completely over Harry's head, but some of the strangers in the room chuckled when they heard the title of the novel.
Harry mused over how odd it was that there were people in the room that he had never seen before in his life (or couldn't possibly remember if he had). They must have been significant to Sirius if he was including them in his will. He felt a sudden pain and griping feeling of loneliness, abruptly coming to recognize how much time they had lost together.
There was so much that Harry hadn't known about Sirius before the incident at the Department of Mysteries. He didn't know who Sirius liked to talk with, or his hobbies, or what he did with his spare time. Harry couldn't tell anyone what Sirius' favourite colour was, or what he had done as a career before he was left to rot in Azkaban. All Sirius had known about Harry was likely assumed, or picked up from his friends. Harry was as much a mystery to Sirius as the older man was to Harry.
It was a difficult idea to handle and accept, that there were people in that room that mourned Sirius just as much as Harry, and probably had more right to his assets as well. Harry was shaken out of his consuming thoughts by the small image announcing his name to the room.
"Harry, I don't have any great riches or properties to pass on to you. I know that you don't need or want them."
Harry smiled a bit. Sirius was right. The last thing Harry wanted from Sirius was money. There were people, like the Weasleys, or Remus, who needed them more. He appreciated that Sirius had acknowledged that fact.
"So I'm leaving you a couple of things that I think you'll appreciate a good bit more. There's a box in my room. It's rather large and has a significant amount of memoirs and souvenirs from when your parents and I were young. I know you don't have a lot to remember your parents by, so I'm giving these to you. I know that you'll treasure them like no one else could. Remus can help you find it.
"The next thingI'm passing on to you will be a lot more troublesome." The Sirius image grinned roguishly. Remus took in a sharp breath beside Harry. "I'm handing you my motor bike!"
The image was obviously delighted with this idea. It continued on excitably. "It flies, it can go invisible – make sure not to forget where it is, when you use that feature – and it's perfect for someone your age. Use it well, Harry. That thing deserves to be ridden properly!
"I think that just about covers everything. I hope that everyone enjoys what they've been given. I love you all!"
Image faded from view and the chamber was quiet for a few brief moments. A chair scraped against the floor as the goblin stood up and plucked the small golden platform from the desk.
"That is the end of the will reading. If you have any questions, ask me. I will be available for the next half-hour. Please come to either myself or one of my assistants to receive and sign any papers that might be necessary." Harry blinked and looked for the mentioned assistants. Sure enough, they stood off to the side in a corner that had entirely escaped Harry's notice.
Several people were standing and heading for the goblins to receive their paperwork and the items that Sirius had left to them. Harry was swept into a bone crunching hug courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, and was quickly whisked off to sign the paperwork for the motorbike.
The next half-hour passed in a blur of motion. There were many people who offered their sympathies to Harry. Thankfully he had the presence of mind to return the favor. Remus guided him as swiftly and painlessly as possible through the mess of paperwork he had been handed, and soon Harry was being hustled through the door.
Professor Dumbledore stood in wait of them. He stepped forward as Harry came out of the chamber.
"Harry," he said, somewhat gravely, "I rather hoped that you would join me for a bit of a discussion before heading back to the Dursley."
"Ah…sure, professor," Harry responded. Remus gave him a quick squeeze around the shoulders.
"See you soon, Harry," he muttered into Harry's ear. Harry smiled at him and turned to the Headmaster. A long, thick chain dangled from the elderly man's hand. A portkey, Harry guessed correctly.
He stepped forward and took hold of the chain, bracing himself from the nauseating ride that the portkey was sure to give.
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Author's Twaddle (again): I'm very sorry for the wait. I realize that you've all been very patient with me. I could give you a long list of excuses, but I'm sure that no one's interested. At least this chapter's fairly long.
I encourage everyone to remember my challenge from the top of the page. If you leave a word that you think is odd, strange, funny or anything in between, you could get the next chapter dedicated to you!