AN: I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 7 - Number Twelve Grimmauld Place
Harry smiled as he looked from his drafts to the half-assembled growing bin he was designing for Neville's birthday. The carpentry tools Sirius purchased for him lay scattered across the transfigured table he used as a building station. Five feet across, seven feet wide, and three feet tall, the treated Oak box with four stout legs glowed with ribbons of magic. He used the same spell Professor Lupin used to inspect Hermione's magical book that Master Ogata awarded her. The professor said it would be a good way for Harry to learn how to use the spell and complete Neville's gift at the same time.
"Watch how the Growth Spell interacts with the wood," Professor Lupin instructed as he traced a finger across the lip of the bin.
Harry drew closer and watched green ribbons of magic wind in and out of the wooden surface. He grimaced and tapped his chin with the tip of his wand. "It would make the wood grow, but you need just enough of the Growth Spell to keep the wood truly alive. I wonder if I could make a lining of some kind of... hmm... stone!" he finished with a shout. "Duro," he cast and worked his wand over the wood around the outside of the growing bin. Using as little magic as possible, he directed the spell with his willpower to ensure a thin coat of stone protected the wood from magic.
"Brilliant," Professor Lupin congratulated as he inspected Harry's wand work. "The stone is a little thick in some areas, but this will do the trick. Inspect it yourself," he prompted and took a step back with a smile.
"Now for the lid. The Sunlight Charm will help his plants grow and maybe a minor atmospheric charm to create a wet environment. I don't know how to do that though," Harry admitted with a glance at Lupin.
The older wizard smirked and shot Harry a raised eyebrow. "You've been trying to get me to show you how to do Atmospheric Charms for a while. They are difficult, but if you think you're ready," he finished, his voice trailing off at the end.
"I'm ready!"
"Alright then, back to the main classroom so we can use the blackboards. This will be complicated stuff, Harry, so ask questions."
It took five days and very little sleep for Harry to grasp the basics of basic Atmospheric Charms. The spell wasn't hard to conjure, but the difficulty lay in the intent and concentration required to make anything happen other than a change in temperature. Enchanting the lid of the growing bin was where Harry got stuck. Fred and George became interested in helping Harry, and even with all three of them working together on the project, they weren't able to complete it without Professor Lupin's help.
The day before Neville's birthday, Harry put the finishing touches on the grower bin and had everyone carve their names into the domed lid. "You could make some serious money off this idea," Fred commented as they watched Sirius and Lupin levitate the present out the open window and to the street below.
"Maybe, but I did it for my friend."
"Still, bloody brilliant carpentry. I forgot you mentioned you learned some at that Muggle school you went to," George commented with a grin.
"Bloody right! I loved the Lion engraved on the front," Ron chimed in. "I might pay you one day to make a trunk. How did you get the face to move like that?"
"Magic," Harry answered in a flat tone. He privately disagreed with Ron's assessment of the rather crude engraving of a lion on the front of the lid.
Ron worked his mouth for a moment before his cheeks went red. "Ah, right, blimey," he muttered and scratched his head. "Anyway, are we going to do more Switching Spells?"
Harry closed the door to Bill and Charlie's room as quietly as he could the morning of his birthday. He'd overheard a little of the conversation between Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Professor Lupin, and Mr. Weasley the previous day. Sirius wanted to take Harry off for his birthday, but Mrs. Weasley had something planned for him at the Burrow. Not wanting to spoil whatever Sirius had planned for him, Harry had gone back upstairs without being noticed. Now, he wanted to get downstairs to the kitchen as early as possible to ensure whatever Mrs. Weasley planned wouldn't be too troublesome.
The kitchen was empty save for Dobby polishing the leg on Mr. Weasely's favorite chair at the table. "Master Harry Potter," Dobby croaked, his tennis-ball-sized eyes growing wider. "Happy Birthday!"
"Hello, Dobby. Thank you," he greeted as he entered the room and walked over to his friend. "You don't have to clean all the time."
"Dobby enjoys it, sir. Dobby likes to see wood shine."
"Is there anything well, more that I can do for you, Dobby? We talked about paying you for helping me and the Weasleys. Have you not changed your mind?"
Dobby flinched. "Dobby is liking what Master Harry Potter tells... asks him to do. Dobby likes helping the Wheezes. Master Harry Potter doesn't need to pay Dobby!"
"Okay, okay," Harry conceded with a smile. "All the same, Dobby. Thank you. You're the best house-elf anyone could ever ask for."
"Master Harry Potter is most kind," the diminutive house-elf said as he choked back tears. "Dobby is needing to get the eggs," he said before Disapparating away with a quiet pop.
With nothing to do, Harry sat on the couch with one of the Charms books Professor Lupin let him borrow. The author focused on explaining why it was better to use simple spells to complete a task rather than complex ones and how best to judge what spell or spells to use. So far, Harry found the book an engaging read and learned more than he thought he would. At Hogwarts, Professor Lupin taught from one book and focused on making sure the entire class understood the material. Now, the professor used references from multiple sources and pushed his small class to the limit of their magical understanding. No one had grown more than Ginny. While Ron's newfound interest in academics had certainly improved his understanding of magic, Ginny absorbed everything Lupin taught like a sponge.
"Harry, dear, you're up early. Happy Birthday," Mrs. Weasley greeted, breaking Harry out of his meditative state.
Blinking away the dark spots in his vision, Harry looked at his friend's mother and tried to smile. He realized he'd locked eyes with the matronly witch when she spoke to him. His hands shook as he realized two things. One, he'd distinctly heard the words "breakfast" and "cake" in Mrs. Weasley's voice, and two, the undercurrent of violent rage within himself seemed to be growing.
"Are you alright, dear? You're pale as a ghost," Mrs. Weasley asked, her eyes focused on his.
"Yes, ma'am," he croaked out. He felt, more than heard, another surface thought from Mrs. Weasely. She was worried about him.
"I know your godfather has allowed you to use magic for the classes. Do you mind helping me with breakfast? Every witch and wizard should know how to cook their own supper." She paused and added under her breath with a smirk, "so you can appreciate the work your spouse puts into cooking."
Harry had the feeling he wasn't supposed to have heard the last bit. "I'd love to," he said and stood.
Cooking breakfast with magic was an enjoyable experience. He'd read A Simple Guide to Household Injuries and Maladies for A Prospective Bride-to-Be by Philippa Lyttleburye, but putting the spells he'd half-remembered into practice wasn't as easy as he'd hoped. In the book, the author gave a few examples of how to brew and cook simple remedies. Using that knowledge, he tried to scramble eggs, make mashed potatoes, and brown a little beef.
"Less emphasis on the spell," Mrs. Weasley coached with a gentle smile. "You're doing well for your first time. Simple, smooth waves of your wand will do it."
By the time everyone got to the table, Harry had all the food cooked, and only the corners of the toast were burned. Pleased with himself, he ate with gusto. Mrs. Weasley couldn't keep the smile off her face. Mr. Weasley didn't have to go into the office, since it was a Sunday, so he and Harry went out to the garage to tinker on the Ford Anglia. Harry knew the reason they went out was so Mrs. Weasley could setup whatever surprise she had in store, but didn't mind as Mr. Weasley allowed him to work on the Extension Charm enchanted into the car's interior.
"I hear you're meddling in Ministry Regulated Charms," a gruff voice called through the open door to the garage. Harry looked up to see Mad-Eye Moody standing in the doorway, his electric blue eye spinning in its socket as it looked around the cluttered space. The ex-Auror and arguably most decorated Dark Wizard Hunter of the age locked both eyes on Harry. "Yer lucky I don't care," Moody said as his scarred face split into a savage grin.
"Good morning, Moody," Harry greeted, careful to keep his wand pointed away from the formidable wizard.
"Afternoon, now," Moody corrected with a grunt. He pulled out a hip flask from inside his leather robes and took a deep drink. "Arthur," he greeted once he'd put the flask away. "I was wondering if you'd like to take a quick stroll, Potter."
Frowning, Harry looked at Mr. Weasley who responded with an imperceptible shrug of one shoulder. "I don't see why not," he said after weighing his options.
"We'll be back in a moment, Arthur," Moody announced and disappeared from the doorway.
Harry followed the dark wizard catcher into the sunlight and blinked away the spots in his vision. Moody stood a few feet away, staring at the treeline near the orchard. He seemed to be talking to himself, but Harry couldn't hear him. "You wanted to speak to me?" he called, careful to keep his distance from the irritable wizard.
"Sirius," Moody answered after a moment. "He came to me about your... issue. I'm a skilled Legilimens, have to be when you're looking for dark wizards. Dumbledore sent him my way, which I don't appreciate, but when your name came up, I decided to pop by. Happy Birthday and all that as well."
Harry snorted and tried to smile. "Thanks," he got out. He wasn't sure how he felt about his problems being bandied about between the adults in his life. He'd told Professor Lupin, who told Sirius. That he could understand, but he didn't like that his problem had become common knowledge.
"Describe, in detail, your issue," Moody ordered, turning to look Harry in the eyes once more.
"There is a state in my meditation where I can... see, for a lack of a better word, inside myself."
"Your Mind Castle, or Mind Palace, continue," Moody interrupted with a raised eyebrow from above his good eye.
Jarred from his train of thought, Harry felt something from the wizard in front of him. He wasn't sure what it was in the look Moody gave him, but it felt invasive, wrong. It took him a moment to realize the ex-Auror was attempting to read his mind. He broke eye contact with more effort than he'd thought would be necessary. "You tried to read my mind," he gasped. His vision swam for a moment before everything came back into focus.
"Constant vigilance! Never be caught unawares. You're much farther along than any of them realize. I'd congratulate you Potter, but you're scared of yourself, of your own mind. You'll never become an Occlumens if you don't know yourself, even the darkest secrets in your heart."
With a shake of his head, Harry tried to focus on Moody's words. It felt like his mind was a mess as if his thoughts bounced around in his head without coming to the surface. "Did you find what you needed?" he asked, his tone harsher than he'd intended.
"Yes, and I'm running short on time," Moody answered without apology. "You're terrified of your past. Unless you face your fears, the darkness you think you feel will fester within you. Order the book Interrogating the Mind by Garaff Hedgeward from Flourish and Blotts. Read it. Have a good birthday," he said before Disapparating away without a sound.
Harry stood there, staring at the spot Moody disappeared. He gritted his teeth and focused on rearranging his thoughts. The ex-Auror's actions angered him and made him feel small and insecure about his future. Moody's almost effortless way he invaded his mind left a sour taste in his mouth as he rejoined Arthur in the garage.
Sirius, Professor Lupin, and Neville showed up around lunchtime. Fred and George set off no less than two dozen fireworks within the small confines of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley, shell shocked and wide-eyed, was in the middle of conjuring every firework the twins had on them when Neville announced his presence by falling over the coffee table in front of the fireplace.
"Neville," Harry greeted as he picked his friend up.
"Blimey, who puts a table right in front of the fireplace?"
"Fred or George," Ron answered with a laugh. "That trap was for Sirius, but he Apparated instead of using the Floo."
Once Neville got to his feet he looked at Harry and smiled. "Thank you for the growing bin! You have no idea how much that meant to me," he admitted, his face going red.
"I just hope the enchantments will last long enough for you to use it for a while. It was my first attempt."
"Gran looked it over. She said your spell work was admirable. According to her, it should last a few years."
"Blimey, that's mental. You really know your Charms, mate."
"Professor Lupin helped me with some of the Charms."
"You mentioned Professor Lupin was teaching you. Could... could I join you?"
Harry looked across the room to where the shabby wizard stood next to Sirius, chuckling at one of the twin's pained expression. "I could ask him," he mused. "The flat is getting cramped with all of us in there though."
"It's okay, you don't have to."
"No, I will, I'd love to have you join us. I was thinking out loud is all," Harry consoled and wrapped an arm around Neville's shoulder. "How was your birthday?"
By the end of lunch, Harry wondered if he'd need to purchase a magical trunk for just the books he owned. He'd received no less than twelve new books on various subjects. Sirius' present made him blush and Mrs. Weasley roll her eyes when he unwrapped the book named Charming Your Smile To Win A Witch. The flamboyant wizard on the cover, smiling into a mirror, could have given Gilderoy Lockhart lessons on how to look a prat.
"Thank you all," Harry said as he attempted to stack the last book on the teetering stack of books.
"Dobby will help," the small house-elf said and waved his hand. All the books and presents disappeared a moment later. "They are up in Master Harry Potter's room!" he said before Disapparating away.
"Bloody useful," Ron muttered as he stared at the laundry basket of clothes by the door to the mudroom. Ginny snorted and rolled her eyes. She stared at Harry and smiled when he raised an eyebrow at his friend's comment.
"I believe you'll want to come with me," Sirius interrupted with a huge smile. Mrs. Weasley looked a little upset, but she didn't comment as Sirius led Harry out into the yard. "We'll be back in a few hours," he called to Arthur. "Hold onto my arm. Better get used to Apparating young, so when it comes time to do it yourself, it won't be as bad."
Harry grimaced when they arrived on the cobbled streets of a strange, dingy street and clutched his stomach. The feeling of being forced backward through a long tube was never a fun one. "Maybe I'll just use my new broom to get from place to place," he grumbled.
"It gets better with time and practice," Sirius consoled as he looked Harry over. "No missing parts, good. It helps to focus on where you're going during a Side-Along Apparition. I should have said where we were going. Sorry about that," he apologized with a grimace. "Where we're going will be fun. I told Molly that I'd had a surprise for you set up. Stay with me at all times. This place isn't very welcoming," he instructed before striding off.
Harry looked around at the buildings with broken windows and rubbish piled up on the sidewalk. As Harry strode alongside Sirius, he bit his lip and asked the question that had been on his mind most of the week. "Do I have to go back to Hogwarts this year? Could I just stay with Professor Lupin and learn?"
Sirius paused at the intersection between two dilapidated streets and pursed his lips. "I want to say no, I really do. This is your fourth year, and you're covering things you won't see until your sixth and seventh. We'll sit down before we go inside. I suppose this will do," he muttered and looked around. Harry knew the street was empty, but it still felt like eyes were watching him from the deep shadows. Faint laughter echoed through the street.
He spotted two boys, younger than himself, playing farther up the street in a trash pile. He almost didn't see them at first, their clothes as dirty as the rubbish pile. "Have a seat, and we'll talk before we go in," Sirius stated and gestured to an uneven bench between two of the tall townhouses.
Harry looked around the quiet, dingy street and wondered why they were there. He gingerly sat down on the hard bench and stared across the street at the identical townhouses across from him. The only difference between the houses was the number of broken windows, and whatever paint remained on the front door.
"While Remus is a wonderful teacher, he isn't an expert on all the subjects Hogwarts has to offer," Sirius said once he was sure the bench wouldn't break under his weight. "I had a wonderful time at Hogwarts and wouldn't have changed it for the world, but I know that wasn't true for everyone."
"I don't mind going," Harry said with a sigh. "I just hate the Ministry and what they've done. They continue to mettle in my life, and I don't want that!"
"I can't say I blame you, Harry. They aren't exactly high on my list of people to invite over for dinner. I want to be selfish and tell you to stay with me and Remus, but I think it will harm your future."
"What about going to Beuxbatons or Durmstrang then? I thought about what Professor Lupin said and decided maybe Japan might not be the best place for me."
"Durmstrang is out," Sirius growled and shook his head. "The Headmaster is a Death Eater that escaped justice. I don't think you'd be welcome there. They teach the Dark Arts as a required subject too. Beuxbatons speak mostly in French, which isn't as much of a problem, but it will make your learning go a little slower." He paused and pursed his lips. "Harry, I'm in this to help you. My Galleons will go wherever there is a Gringotts. However, I'd like you to seriously consider staying at Hogwarts and Britain until you graduate."
Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Sirius held up a hand. "Hear me out," his godfather asked in a patient voice. With a nod, Harry settled back.
"This information doesn't leave this bench," Sirius warned with a smirk. "Hogwarts will host a rather important event this year that you won't want to miss. The only hint I'll give you is that both of the schools you mentioned will be there. As for staying at Hogwarts after this year," he said before trailing off, his lips pursed into a tight line. "You know what's coming?"
"Voldemort," Harry breathed out and sighed. "That bloody prophesy Professor Trelawny gave. Maybe it won't come true," he finished with a shrug.
"You and I both know it'll happen at some point. Especially now that Peter is out there, probably hunting for his master," Sirius spat. "Hogwarts is a stronghold of magic. The Founders knew what they were doing when they created the place. Not to mention Dumbledore's power and influence. Harry, I'm no match for Dumbledore, but I promise that if anything happens, I'll be there for you. Even if it means certain death for me. I've long accepted that I will die, so don't give me that look. Hogwarts will give you a place to grow, not only socially, but also magically. The professors are all masters in their fields. The material Professor McGonagall gave you is risking the Ministry's ire. She cares about your education and wants you to thrive. However, she can't do that if you go to another school."
Harry grimaced and thought of the mountain of coursework the aging professor had given him. While he loved learning new things, the complexity of many of the topics still kept him up late into the night. Even after Professor Lupin helped him complete the assignments. "I... understand what you're saying," he allowed after a moment.
"If you want to leave Britain before term next year, we'll discuss it. I have no particular love for this country, you know that. I have a few friends here and more that I'm reconnecting with, but the community as a whole still sees me as a criminal of the worst sort."
"How are you dealing with it?"
"Through a blithe smile and the knowledge that they can't think for themselves. I know I'm innocent... of those charges anyway."
Harry wondered what his godfather meant but dismissed it. "Why are we here of all places?" he asked and looked around again. The two boys finished whatever game in the rubbage they'd been playing and were trying to get into one of the houses through a broken window.
"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place," Sirius announced as he stood up, pointing to a townhouse with a black door directly oppose them. "The Ancestral Home of the Black Family," he announced in a pompous voice. "Remus and I came up with a little something for you," he finished with a smirk.
Harry followed behind his godfather, thinking about his options for the future. As he ascended the stone stairs, he became aware of something odd. The way his scarred, numb skin itched gave him the feeling of wrongness. He peered at the battered front door and noticed the silver knocker in the shape of a twisted serpent. The door had no keyholes, handles, or anything else that would indicate it was a door.
"I'm still working on getting rid of the portrait of my dear mother," Sirius said with a grin and placed his hand on the door. It opened, revealing a darkness, deeper than Harry had ever seen.
"Is it safe?" Harry asked, reaching inside his robes for his wand.
"No, and that is the present we have for you. There are five floors in total. Each floor has numerous obstacles, dark creatures, and puzzles you have to identify and either get around or defeat. Remus told me you liked the Curse Breaker method of approaching problems, so we decided you might enjoy this. We'll come here every Tuesday and Thursday until you conquer the house. I'll be with you the entire time, but I can't help you."
Harry looked from Sirius to the absolute darkness behind the open door. "Well, I suppose this could be fun," he allowed with a raised eyebrow. He drew his wand and pointed it at his face. "Influuntas Luminus," he intoned and grinned as ribbons of magic appeared around the doorway. He couldn't help the smile that came to him whenever he saw a difficult problem.
"The nails!" he shouted five minutes later. "Someone enchanted the nails with a Blinding Ward."
"Did we?" Sirius questioned, and Harry could tell he was smiling without looking back.
"Finite," Harry cast, careful to work his wand tip over the exposed nailheads in the doorframe. The magic vanished, revealing a long hallway with gas lamps and a glittering crystal chandelier overhead. Most of the walls had portraits and artwork on display. An old wizard, his bald pate gleaming in the low light, winked at Harry as he stood on the threshold. Harry was on the verge of taking a step when he realized something was off. "Revelio," he intoned and watched as a sort of clear film appeared in front of the door. He turned to look at Sirius who was snickering. "Cling wrap, really?"
"Oh, it won't be just dark things you have to worry about," Sirius answered with a gleam in his eye. "We were called Mauraders for a reason, Harry." His smile seemed to promise lots of pranks for the future.
Harry stepped into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place and collapsed into the chair by the table. It was the first place Sirius told him he should clear out so they could use the fireplace and have a bit of lunch. That endeavor cost him two hours, four bruises, and twenty minutes of hysterical laughter from his godfather. Between the toilet seat that attacked him in the hallway, the floor that wasn't a floor, and the sticky, smelly goo that squirted at him at random intervals, he felt like he'd lost a battle with Peeves the Poltergeist. After he'd tackled the hallway, the kitchen hadn't been much better. A Dementor waited for him near the stove. It took him a heart-stopping moment to realize it was a boggart.
"I haven't laughed that hard in years," Sirius commented as he wiped a tear away.
"Very funny," Harry muttered as he looked around the kitchen to make sure nothing else attacked him or was enchanted to prank him. The confusing jumble of ribbons of magic all through the house made it next to impossible to tell what was dangerous and what wasn't. He'd accused Sirius of enchanting every timber to have some dark spell until Sirius told him that was just how his family lived. It made him realize again how different life must have been for his godfather while he was growing up.
"How are you adjusting to the spell?" Sirius asked, his grin fading. "Remus said you've been using the Ribbon Sight Spell for a while. This was his idea you know. He wanted to give you a challenge and at the same time allow you to practice the magic you've been learning. Some of the floors will have atmospheric changes, roaming transfigured beasts, and the like."
"What happens if I... you know... destroy something?" Harry asked as he looked around the opulent kitchen. The dark setting and color scheme of the room did little hide the wealth on display, not to mention the sheer number of enchanted objects in the room. He grimaced when he noticed even the gold inlaid cutting board, propped up by the sink, had green and black ribbons of magic coursing through and around it.
"If you manage to bring this house down, I'll buy you the Ministry of Magic. I'm serious. This house is so old it might be sentient, similar to how Hogwarts is. However, instead of the magic being balanced, my family always leaned toward the darker side of things and anything Pure-blood Mania related."
Harry laughed and shook his head. "How did you turn out so different from the rest of your family?" he asked and settled back into the chair.
"By choice mostly," Sirius answered after a moment. "I wanted to rebel at first, when I was young, to get attention. Then I realized the children outside weren't that much different than us wizards. Muggles could do everything I could, and sometimes better, but they didn't have magic was all. The rebellious child that I was latched onto that. After going to Hogwarts and meeting James, well, I realized I was right, and my parents and family were wrong. Muggles, Muggle-borns, and Half-bloods are humans, just like the Pure-bloods."
Harry looked at the large clock on the wall and grimaced. "Mrs. Weasley will have dinner on in a bit," he said with a sigh. He wanted to see what else Sirius and Lupin had in store for him that he could defeat.
"In a moment," Sirius answered with a smile. "The first thing I have to ask is for you to keep mum about today. You can tell everyone about this place if you want, but it might be best to not mention the dark magic lingering in the house. Second," he said with a wider grin as he reached into his pocket and pulled out several tickets. "These are for you, Hermione, Neville, and the Weasleys, should they want to come," he finished and slid the stack of golden tickets across the table.
"The Quidditch World Cup?" Harry asked, his eyes going wide. "Bloody hell, Ron will go mental," he muttered. "Thank you. I actually wanted to see the match but didn't know if Mrs. Weasley would let me and Ron go alone."
"We won't be in the top box, but I've got a box near it that should have amazing seats in the middle of the stadium for all of us."
"Brilliant, I can't wait to go!"
