AN:
Many thanks to my great beta reader Verlor (id: 1113787)!
Chapter 29 - A Game of Socks
The Dark Lord was furious, bled-out Muggle bodies lying at his feet, his wand smoking in his hand. The ingenious plan of a triumphant and, above all, initially secret return had collapsed like a house of cards ... no, it was even worse! Nagini, his faithful companion, his newest Horcrux, that was supposed to guarantee him eternal immortality, was dead! Killed by Dumbledore's damn phoenix, thrown into his own daughter's Fiendfyre...
Oh, he would make them pay! He would rip the damn phoenix's wings off, over and over again, for the rest of their two immortal existences. And his daughter ... he would subdue her as he had subdued her mother before. He would kill Potter in front of her, give her his blood to drink, his flesh to eat. Then he would take her. Or sacrifice her in a ritual. Or take her first, have her bear a child, and then sacrifice her. In any case, she would be a useful tool…
But to achieve all of this he had to defeat Potter first ... he killed him, didn't he?! His killing curse had hit him, didn't it?! For the second time in his wretched life! Then how? How could he survive? The boy couldn't be immortal, could he?! The very idea was absurd. But how then? How?!
The Dark Lord screamed, causing the walls of Malfoy Manor to tremble.
If he couldn't kill the boy with magic, he would just slit his throat! Or make his daughter do it! Or his Death Eaters –
The Dark Lord screamed again. He needed more servants! Too many had died in the Fienfyre. Only a pitiful remnant remained, incapable, weak, while the most loyal of his followers moulderred away in Azkaban ... He had to free them! With them he would first get the damned prophecy. Then he would kill Potter and subjugate the entire magical and non-magical world, taking his rightful place…
"... Bellatrix Lestrange", Daphne finished her sentence.
Harry and Daphne were in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express on the way to London. Across them sat Remus Lupin, who had his beady eyes on Harry ever since the third task. Even now he cautiously looked at them, which is why Harry and Daphne pretended to be asleep, communicating in their minds.
"It must be her Malfoy was talking about," Daphne continued. "If we are correct, she is keeping another one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. But she's currently imprisoned in Azkaban."
"That would make it pretty hard to get to her," mused Harry. "Maybe even impossible. And most of all, we have to decide whether to tell Dumbledore about it."
Cold fear flared in Daphne's mind. "No!" she replied quickly, her supposedly sleeping body pressing even closer to his. "I know you made some kind of pact to defeat Voldemort, but I don't trust him. I won't entrust our lives to an alliance that only exists because of a common enemy, Harry. Dumbledore would want to know where we got the information from. Confessing a murder to him could turn out to be a one-way ticket to Azkaban!"
"At least, we'd be very close to dear Bellatrix then," Harry laughed inwardly.
"Don't say that, even in fun! Azkaban would be our end. Just look at how they're treating even Dumbledore right now. Do you think the ministry would give a smeg if we died there?"
"Yes, you could almost feel sorry for the way the newspapers portray him as a senile idiot."
"But only almost. At least he's not described as a soulless, hateful, morally depraved Death Eater tart."
"Right, you're only depraved in –"
"Harry James Potter!"
The two teenagers laughed inwardly and had to be careful to maintain the illusion of sleep.
"Still, I'm not that good on Dumbledore right now," Daphne continued. "As headmaster, he could have stopped this petition."
Harry sent out a signal of approval. This morning, the Daily Prophet had reported about a petition allegedly submitted by hundreds of students and teachers to the Ministry of Magic demanding their immediate expulsion from school, without giving any specific names.
"Whose idea do you think it was?" he asked curiously.
Daphne inwardly shrugged her shoulders. "No idea, but if I had to bet, I'd say Granger. So much formality suits her. Otherwise maybe Chang; I don't think she liked what you did to Diggory. Or Sprout. She has a down on us since last year. Or –"
" Yes, yes, I can tell," laughed Harry, "we have more than enough enemies."
" At least one constant in our lives. It's better to surround yourself with reliable enemies than unreliable friends."
"Where did you read that?"
"In some book, I think…"
Daphne snuggled even closer to Harry and together they indulged in their actual weariness; shortly afterwards they had both fallen asleep while colorful fields and green forests flashed by, a concerned teacher watching over them. It was only several hours later that they were brutally torn from their shared dream.
"Harry, Daphne, wake up," Remus called as he shook their shoulders. "We're entering King's Cross."
Yawning, Harry straightened up. Indeed, the aisles were already full of jostling students, and through the windows one could already see the waiting crowd.
"Too bad," Harry muttered sleepily. "I almost got the tuna."
"No, you didn't," replied Daphne, rubbing her eyes. "You're a terrible fisherman, Harry."
Harry noticed Remus looking at them. Perhaps they should be even more careful when talking around him. Daphne squeezed his hand in agreement. Together they waited until the corridor was empty and all students had left the train before they too stepped onto the platform. Carefully, they followed Remus through the crowd towards the barrier to the Muggle world. Harry only knew that they were on their way to the ancestral home of the Blacks, which would become the new headquarters of the resistance against Voldemort, but not how they would get there; a measure of precaution like their whole stay there over the summer. Even Harry had to admit that this would probably be the safest place for him and Daphne for the next two months.
Everywhere they saw parents lovingly hugging their children, happily reunited. The joyful faces, however, were quickly replaced by expressions of suspicion as soon as people recognized him and Daphne. Frightened, the parents took their children's hands, rushing away as if fearing they might both run amok at any moment.
From the corners of his eyes, Harry noticed two figures following them inconspicuously, presumably his guard that Remus had spoken of. It was an old, silver-haired man and an old woman who had to lean on a stick while walking.
"Your guard belongs in a nursing home," Daphne commented in disbelief. "Hopefully they won't suddenly crumble into dust."
Remus stepped through the barricade, ordering them to follow him. They left behind the wizarding world, which treated them both like lepers, to instead mingle with the mass of Muggles for whom they were nothing more than two teenagers in love. For that alone Harry preferred the Muggles, for their innocent ignorance.
Together with Remus and their frail honor guard in tow, they strode towards the station's exit. As they passed a kiosk, Harry caught a glimpse of the front page of a Muggle newspaper that made him laugh briefly: Terrorist Attack on Stonehenge – Suspects still on the Run. If only the Muggles knew that the supposed terrorists were right among them.
"You're famous, Daph", smirked Harry.
"I was just waving my wand," Daphne replied with an amused undertone. "It was only thanks to you that I managed the magic. This soul bond is really great."
"It is," Harry said. "But I find it funny that the Muggles report on the destruction of Stonehenge, while the Daily Prophet and Co. spread a cloak of silence about it. The missing wizards are also only mentioned on the back pages. Certainly just a coincidence that they had been suspected of being Death Eaters after Voldemort's first fall."
"What do you expect? Fudge is a tosser…"
They stepped out of the station building onto a long line of waiting cars. Purposefully, Remus headed towards a light blue car where they were already expected by a familiar face, even if Harry hadn't seen the man since the end of his second year. Back then he had ushered his weeping wife out of Professor McGonagall's office ... Nodding at them, Arthur Weasley opened the right rear door of the car.
"Get in," Remus said. "There's plenty of space."
Harry got into the car behind Daphne, realizing that it had to be enchanted. The back seat was much longer than it seemed to from the outside. Several tall people could have easily found room there.
Harry sat next to Daphne while Remus and the old woman who had been following them all the way sat down beside him. The silver-haired wizard took the passenger seat and Mr. Weasley finally got behind the wheel and started driving shortly afterwards.
"Phew, what a fagging," sighed the old woman. Harry felt a brief surge of magic and suddenly her features changed. Wrinkles disappeared, the skin tightened, hair began to sprout. Within a few seconds, the old and feeble woman was gone, replaced by a young witch with dark eyes and long, bilious green hair. She must be a Metamorphmagus, Harry realized. How interesting.
"It's not easy to be old," the witch continued. "Remus, don't you want to introduce us?"
"Um, yes, of course," Remus replied. "Harry, Daphne, this is Nymphadora Tonks."
"Anyone who calls me Nymphadora makes acquaintancewith my wand," shuddered the young witch. "Just Tonks, please."
Ignoring Tonks' objection, Remus now pointed to the silver-haired wizard in the passenger seat. "Elphias Doge."
Doge turned around and nodded to them. "Nice to meet you both," he said.
"And our driver is Arthur Weasley," Remus continued.
Harry could see Mr. Weasley's bright eyes in the rear-vision mirror, regarding him intently. "We already know each other," he muttered. "At least Mr. Potter and I."
Frowning, Remus spoke again, "Well, I think you've all heard of Harry and Daphne. Or read about them. Thanks again for agreeing to escort Harry to our destination. It was difficult to find enough volunteers…"
Remus broke off, but the meaning of his words was obvious to Harry. Apparently, he was no longer suited to be the figurehead of the fight against Voldemort. All of this was a more than fragile alliance, as Daphne had aptly stated. They could not count on their current allies not to turn against them one day.
"Then we'll crush them under our boots too," Daphne commented on his thoughts, squeezing his hand.
"When will this all finally end?" Harry sighed.
"If we're the last ones left," Daphne replied coldly. "Or when everyone else is too scared of us to get in our way."
"Haven't we –"
"Say, Harry," Tonks' voice suddenly tore them out of their silent conversation, "You were there when Moody died, right?"
Confused, Harry looked at the witch. Why was she asking him that now?
"Tonks is an Auror," Remus muttered to him. "Moody was her instructor."
Now Harry understood. Presumably, this was a sentimental subject for the Auror. "Um, yes, I was there," he said, choosing each word carefully. "I couldn't see it directly because I was tied in a different direction, but I noticed that he fought till the end. He was a very brave and honorable man."
Tonks' body trembled as she nodded slightly. "Yes, he was," she whispered in a hoarse voice. "And the worst bastard I've ever seen..."
An uncomfortable silence then spread in the car. Daphne rested her head on Harry's shoulder while he looked through the windows at the streets and buildings rushing past them. It was a lovely summer day, but fortunately not as hot as on their last drive through sun-drenched Alexandria. Oh, how much would he like to go back there, Harry thought wistfully. Not only would he see Ganda and Klak again, but he would also like to continue their research to save Fawkes' soul. With Voldemort's return, however, such desires and goals had taken a back seat. Whichever way one looked at it, they had to defeat Voldemort to be free at some point. Before they could live, they had to survive first.
"Just promise me you'll never surrender to death again," said Daphne. "Like in Stonehenge. When we fight, we fight together. And if we die, we die. But we'll be together."
"Yes, love," Harry assured her. "We'll be together. Forever."
He noticed that they had left the city center. The car was now driving through a kind of residential area, but the facades of the buildings were covered with dirt. Many houses had broken windows, paint was peeling off the doors, and the streets were rubbish-strewn, truly a miserable sight. In such a neighborhood was the ancestral home of an old pureblood family?
The car stopped on the edge of a small place, right in front of a house with a crooked 12 next to the front door. And on the battered stone steps in front of it stood none other than their headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who in his red and gold robe and with his long silver hair looked as out of place as a laughing student in potions class.
Tonks got out of the car first, followed by Remus, Harry, and Daphne. Doge, who had also got off, called out, "Albus! I didn't know you would come too. How –"
"I'm also happy to see you, Elphias "replied Dumbledore with a warm smile. "In fact, I've been watching over you all along. But we should all go in quickly." With that, Dumbledore opened the creaking door of the house, the black paint of which had long since faded. Behind it, Harry could only see darkness.
"I have to go back to my family," Mr. Weasley called out quickly. "They're still waiting for me."
"Of course, Arthur," replied Dumbledore. "Please give Molly my regards. And I'll come visit you tonight. There's a lot to discuss."
Mr. Weasley nodded before getting back in the car and driving back the way they had just come.
Suddenly, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. "Come on, Harry," Remus said, pushing him toward the front door. Harry exchanged a look with Daphne and together they climbed the stone steps, noticing that the silver doorknocker was shaped like a coiled snake. A shiver ran down Harry's spine as he stepped past Dumbledore over the threshold, not unlike the feeling he felt from the demon magic. This house was full of dark magic, that much was certain.
They entered a musty entrance hall, the exact size of which was hidden in the darkness. The floorboards under their feet were covered with dust, and the rustling of rats could be heard from the walls. Harry felt like he was in a ruin.
"Lovely," Daphne commented dryly. "We're definitely not going to spend our wedding night here."
Tonks also complained loudly. "Yuck! Remus, what kind of shack did you pick out?"
"It was the best possible place," Remus replied calmly as he raised his wand and lit old-fashioned gas lamps along the walls. However, instead of making the house cozier, the light only revealed its decay all the more.
Wallpaper was peeling from the walls, covered with filth, in the corners lay rats' dung and spider webs covered the entire ceiling and a snake-shaped, formerly golden, but now almost black chandelier. However, not only on the chandelier, everywhere in the long, gloomy entrance hall Harry could see pieces of furniture and decorations in the form of snakes. Although he knew the language of snakes, his time in Slytherin and his classmates there had spoiled that animal for him. These would be exhausting weeks…
"It was my idea," said Dumbledore, who had entered last, closing the door behind him. "The house of the Blacks is already protected by numerous different spells, which I will now add another special spell to. Harry, you are familiar with the Fidelius Charm, I suppose?"
"I am," Harry replied with a nod. "And unlike my parents, I won't entrust the lives of myself and Daphne to anyone else. I will be the secret keeper for this house."
"Harry –"
"No, Professor, I've made up my mind. You can cast the spell as you are undoubtedly the most powerful of us all. But only on my terms."
Dumbledore seemed to think hard while five pairs of eyes watched him closely. Doge opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but Remus grabbed his arm, slightly shaking his head.
"Very well," Dumbledore finally said. "That will put a lot of responsibility on you, Harry. I'll have to turn to you more often to let Order members in on the secret."
Harry shrugged. "This fight is my responsibility anyway," he replied. "Since the day Voldemort killed my parents."
"And my responsibility," Daphne added in thought.
"Well then," said Dumbledore. "Then please come here, Harry. I need your help with the spell."
Letting go of Daphne's hand, Harry walked over to Dumbledore, who took his arm.
"You must take my arm too," Dumbledore continued. "Now I'm going to start the spell. It will take some time. All you have to do is allow the magic to flow through you. The secret of this place will then be woven into your soul so that only you can pass it on." His eyes wandered to Daphne. "Otherwise the spell will not affect you or your soul."
Harry nodded, signaling to Dumbledore that he could begin. Dumbledore then took his wand out of one of the numerous pockets in his robe, whirling it through the air while simultaneously speaking long sentences in Latin. Thanks to his extensive translation work over the past two years, Harry could understand most of it.
"... so that this place may become untraceable, hidden in the soul of the boy who is the rightful owner of this house, so that his will alone may lift the veil, so that..."
The litany continued for several minutes, during which Harry could do nothing else than stand still while the warm feeling of magic flowed through his body. He noticed how Tonks stifled a yawn, and Doge and Remus kept wiping the dust from their shoulders that trickled down from the ceiling. Daphne, however, had come to his side. Even if she didn't touch him, he could feel the magic flowing through her soul as well. Had there ever been a case in which the Fidelius Charm had two secret keepers, Harry asked himself.
At some point, the tip of Dumbledore's wand began to glow in a bright, bluish light. Threads of that light spread from the wand throughout the house, wrapping around Harry and Daphne and all the walls, windows, and doors of the building. For a brief moment, the house vibrated, showering them with a flood of dust and spiders, before the light suddenly vanished and Dumbledore's voice fell silent. The magic was done.
At the same moment in which the spell took full effect, a croaking, female voice rang out, making Harry's hair stand on end.
"Who's there?" croaked the voice. "Is it you, Regulus? Have you finally returned? Come here, let me see you with my own eyes. I've waited so long for you to come back. Kreacher will…"
The voice went on babbling things Harry didn't understand. Curious, wand in hand, he approached the place the voice had come from farther back in the entrance hall. Daphne had grabbed his hand, also ready to fight. The adults, on the other hand, did not seem particularly concerned but followed them nonetheless.
Harry and Daphne reached a life-size portrait of an old woman with yellowish skin and a black hood on her head. The old woman drooled as she spoke, her eyes glassy. Could portraits lose their faculties?
"Um, hello," Harry said cautiously.
At his voice, the woman winced before rolling her eyes and staring at him in confusion. "Who are you?!" she shrieked. "You are not Regulus! Who are you?!"
"No, I'm not," Harry replied. "My name is Harry Potter. I'm –"
" Potter?! Potter?!" the woman began to scream. "Blood traitor! Scum! How dare you defile –"
"Hello, Aunt," Tonks suddenly interrupted the portrait's screeching. "What's up?"
The woman stopped in her tirade to look at Tonks in confusion, even more drool dripping from the corners of her mouth. "Aunt ?!" she asked in a screeching voice. "I don't know you, girl! Who are you? Nobody in my family would dress like a guttersnipe, so dirty, shabby, indecent –"
"I'm the daughter of Andromeda Tonks," Tonks replied with a big grin on her face. "And before you ask, dear Auntie, yes, the one in front of you really is a Potter, child of James Potter and the brilliant Muggle-born witch Lily Potter, née Evans. Also here are Remus Lupin, werewolf and one of the kindest people I have ever met. And of course Elphias Doge and Albus Dumbledore. How do you like the new residents of your house, Auntie?"
For a moment, the old woman blinked in surprise, before the yellowish skin on her face suddenly tightened and she began to scream again. It was a terrible, deafening scream that made the blood run cold.
"Scum! Filth! Blood Traitors! Monsters! Mudbloods! Shame, shame, shame! You maggots in the flesh of magic, you cockroaches, parasites, you –"
The screams were so ear-splitting, so loud that the assembled had to press their hands over their ears, even though Tonks was laughing as if she never had so much fun before as she did at this moment.
Daphne shouted something at Harry, but he couldn't understand her words in all the noise. His soul, however, vibrated with her need to silence this portrait. "Do something, Harry!" hecaught one of her thoughts.
Harry took his right hand, still clutching his wand, from his ear, pointing it at the screaming portrait. Gathering the magic inside him, feeling how it tore at his and Daphne's soul, he unleashed its power. Hissing sounds came from his mouth, but they were lost in all the other noise. Brown streaks of mist broke out from the tip of his wand, sliding like long fingers towards the painting of the old woman, who could not oppose her impending destruction, even if she would have recognized the danger.
As soon as the brown mist reached the portrait, there was a hum in the musty air, as if they were standing in a swarm of millions and millions of locusts. Harry saw the portrait and parts of the wall behind it dissolving into nothingness, bit by bit, devoured by the demonic magic, whose hunger could never be satisfied, becoming even more and more restless the more Harry unleashed it. The old woman's accusing screams were replaced by sounds of utter panic.
The magic made Harry's body tremble. It tore at his limbs, his heart, his soul, wanted to destroy much more, even to reduce the whole house to rubble. Harry had to use all his concentration to control the magic, even if it felt so tempting to surrender to the frenzy, to forget everything around him, all of his worries and fears, and just live.
"Harry!" he suddenly felt Daphne's thoughts, noticing that she was clutching his hand. "It's enough. You can stop!"
Harry strained his attention and lowered his wand, causing the rushing of his blood in his ears to stop; the woman's screams had long since died. In front of him, there was now a large hole in the wall, revealing a dirty, once probably imposing ballroom.
"Everything's fine," heassured Daphne in his mind. "The portrait is gone."
Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the faces of their companions had lost all color. Tonks' grin was gone, instead she shook her head in a daze.
"What a show," she mumbled. "At least, you made short work of her."
"So that's what you meant, Albus," Doge said quietly. "But I feel dark magic. The boy really should –"
"Magic is magic," replied Daphne angrily. "Harry destroyed this damn painting and that's all that matters!"
Dumbledore sighed but said nothing; just like Remus, who looked at Harry with concern. By now, his constant glances began to annoy Harry.
Just at this moment, another screaming rang out, quiet at first but growing louder and louder, accompanied by a scuffing noise. After a few seconds, a house-elf came running out of the semi-darkness. Whereas Dobby was young and energetic, though, this house-elf looked old and frail. His wrinkled skin hung down from his thin body, great tufts of white hair sprouted from his bat-like ears, and his eyes were bloodshot and watery gray. Apart from a filthy rag, the original color of which Harry could not recognize, he was completely naked. That had to be Kreacher, whom Dobby had told him about after visiting this house a year ago.
"Mistress!" Kreacher shouted, hurrying to the hole in the wall. "What did they do to my Mistress?! Mistress, come back! MISTRESS?!"
Kreacher collapsed on the floor, tearing his ear hair. Tears rolled down his wrinkled face as he howled and sobbed, causing Harry to feel sorry for the old house-elf.
"Kreacher," he thus said cautiously, leaning down to him. Gently, he touched his bare shoulder, but Kreacher winced at his touch. Jerking his head around, he looked at Harry, his face streaked with tears.
"You!" he screamed. "You killed my Mistress!" With that, Kreacher jumped up at a speed Harry hadn't thought possible. "I kill you! Kill you! Kill you!" Kreacher shrieked as he pounced on Harry.
Harry fell to the floor, Kreacher's hands around his throat and in his face. It seemed as if the house-elf wanted to scratch his eyes out.
All of a sudden, there was a loud bang and Harry felt Kreacher being thrown away from him. A moment later, Daphne's worried face leaned over him, her wand lightly smoking in her hand. Harry also saw Remus and Tonks walk past him, tying Kreacher, who had collapsed on the opposite wall and was sobbing loudly.
"I'm fine, Daph," Harry reassured Daphne. "No harm done."
"Sure?" Daphne asked worriedly. "You've got some scratches on your face."
Touching his face, Harry could indeed feel some blood on his skin. He quickly cast a small healing spell before grinning widely at Daphne. "Soft as a baby's bottom."
Daphne stroked his face. "I don't know," she replied with a smile. "You don't seem as lucky with that house-elf as with Dobby."
Rising from the floor, Harry looked at Kreacher, who was still sobbing and struggling in his bonds. With Daphne by his side, he approached the house-elf.
"Harry, as his new master you should –" Remus began but was interrupted by Harry.
"I already know what I'll do with him," Harry said firmly. Dropping on his knees, he eyed the old house-elf curiously. "Hello, Kreacher," he addressed him. "I'm your new master because Sirius Black made me his heir."
"Kreacher will never serve a filthy Half-blood who brings –"
"Please be quiet while I talk to you," Harry interrupted him.
Instantly, Kreacher fell silent. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish on land but couldn't make a sound. Harry's heart was reluctant to deprive the house-elf of his freedom in this way, but it was necessary, at least for the moment.
"I am your master," Harry continued. "And because of the magical bond between you and the Black family, you have no choice but to serve me. However, I don't want to be a slave owner. So I won't say that I will give you freedom, Kreacher, because freedom is not something that you give away, but the inherent right of every living being."
Reaching into his jacket pocket, Harry took out a green scarf that he had once bought in Hogsmeade.
"Harry, I don't think that's a good idea," Remus exclaimed. "He knows that we were here. What if he betrays us?"
Harry glanced at Remus. "Shouldn't you especially understand it when others take away your rights, deprive you of your freedom?" he asked. "I refuse to enslave him. And I'm not going to kill anyone just because there's a chance that they might betray me at some point."
Remus looked at him distraught, a multitude of different emotions flashing across his face. Eventually, he slouched his shoulders, sighing loudly. "Yes … yes, you're right, Harry."
Dumbledore, who had been silent until then, stepped out of the semi-darkness, giving Harry a thoughtful look. "Your words are honorable, Harry," he said, "but I think Kreacher wants to tell us something."
Harry turned his head back to the house-elf, who had started to struggle violently against his bonds, eyes wide and screaming in silence.
"Speak, Kreacher," Harry ordered.
Immediately there was a desperate shriek from the house-elf. "... nooo! Kreacher will never leave his Mistress' house! Kreacher will die here! His head will hang next to the others! The filthy Half-blood won't tarnish the honor of the Blacks. Blood traitors and mutants won't..."
Harry understood. This house-elf was very different from Dobby.
"Please let me do this, love," Daphne told him in his mind, squeezing his hand tenderly.
With that, Daphne pointed her wand at Kreacher, her eyes dangerously sparkling, radiating an aura of power, as if she were the mistress of the house. "Kreacher, be silent and listen," she said in a calm but authoritarian tone that left no doubt that she expected immediate obedience.
And indeed, as soon as Daphne finished speaking, Kreacher's screams stopped once more. With wide, bewildered eyes he looked at Daphne, while the adults exchanged surprised looks. Only Dumbledore remained perfectly calm, even if he had his gaze fixed on Daphne and Kreacher.
"My name is Daphne Greengrass," Daphne continued. "I'm sure you know the name Greengrass, don't you, Kreacher?" The house-elf was still just staring at her with wide eyes. "The Greengrasses are an old and highly respected pureblood family who are in many ways connected with the Blacks. I myself am the fiancée of your new master and heir to the Blacks, Harry Potter."
Pure surprise showed on the faces of Tonks, Doge and this time also Dumbledore. Harry struggled to suppress a laugh.
"As his fiancé, it falls to me to look after the house and the house-elves," Daphne went on. "And I share Harry's sentiment. I will not allow you to be our slave either, Kreacher." Once again Kreacher struggled against his bonds, but Daphne ignored him. "We already have another house-elf in our service. I think you met him last year. He is a free house-elf who works for us based on an employment contract. We'd offer you that as well."
Kreacher stared at Daphne, confused as if she'd gone mad, but at least he seemed to be listening attentively.
"So you have two options," said Daphne calmly. "Your magical bond with the Blacks will be broken, that much is certain. However, you then have a choice. You can either leave the house to never come back. What you do then is entirely up to you, but know that I will find you should you betray us. It would be a long, agonizing death for you."
The air around Harry seemed noticeably colder. No sound could be heard.
"Or you can decide to stay in our service on the basis of this contract. So you could continue to serve House Black and if you do your job well, after your death we will hang your head next to those of your ancestors so that you too will become part of the legacy of the Blacks; a tradition that is also honored by the Greengrasses."
Harry felt that Daphne was lying, but her words had the desired effect. Kreacher nodded wildly with his head, his eyes blinking.
"I'm glad you chose the smarter option," Daphne said in a tone as if she had ordered a cup of tea. "But know that if you should disappoint us, in whatever form, we will bury your body in a Muggle rubbish tip, where you would be forgotten forever."
Kreacher quickly shook his head, a pleading look in his yellow pop eyes.
"So we have a deal, Kreacher?"
Another affirmative nod.
Daphne turned to Harry, her lips drawn up in a smile so that her white teeth could be seen. "Your turn, love," she said, getting up and tossing her long hair over her shoulders.
Harry returned her smile with a big grin before turning back to the mute Kreacher, the scarf still in his hand. "Kreacher," he told the house-elf, "from now on you're a free house-elf." With that, he put the scarf in Kreacher's bony fingers.
A tremor went through Kreacher's body, thick tears welling out of his tennis ball-like eyes.
In the meantime, Daphne had taken a piece of parchment out of her pocket that Harry recognized as the same contract that Dobby had signed two years ago. She also conjured a quill and ink before handing it all to Kreacher. "Now all you have to do is sign it," she said. "Then you can stay here."
With trembling hands, Kreacher took the quill, pressing it briefly on the end of the parchment; no signature in the proper meaning of the word, but sufficient for the parchment's magic. For a moment, it flashed in a yellowish light before Daphne put it back in her pocket.
"Excellent," she said happily. "Welcome to our service, Kreacher. Please now prepare a room for us and, above all, clean it. I would be very dissatisfied with you if I found dirt, do you understand me? You may speak again now."
Kreacher took a breath as if he had been on the verge of suffocation. "Yes, Mistress," he croaked. "At once, Mistress. Kreacher obeys. Kreacher will do House Black honor!" With that, the house-elf got up and scurried towards a staircase, on the wall of which Harry actually saw several house-elf heads hanging. What kind of sick people had the Blacks been?
"Damn, you two are scary," Tonks' voice rang out, visibly shuddering. "I wouldn't want you as enemies."
Harry stood up, turning to the young witch, whose hair was now snow white. Doge was pale in the face, too, and trembling all over, while Remus shook his head in disbelief. Dumbledore, however, was still standing motionlessly in the hallway, his face showing no emotion.
Harry gave the Auror a deep look. "We also don't want any more enemies, we already have more than enough of them," he replied seriously, before turning back to Remus. "You're staying with us, right?"
Remus nodded slightly. "Um, yes, exactly," he replied hesitantly. "The plan is for us to make the house so clean and habitable that Order members can hide here. We will of course also have meetings here. But the three of us will be the only permanent residents for the time being."
"Four, Remus," Dumbledore spoke up, still looking at Harry. "Don't forget Kreacher, whose loyalty Harry and Daphne have just secured in ... impressive ways."
"Five, actually," Harry interjected. "We'll call Dobby later too. The way it looks here, we'll need every helping hand."
"Th-Then we go now, yes, Albus?" Doge called out in a trembling voice. Apparently he couldn't wait to get out of this gruesome house. Or maybe it was just the company that made him so nervous, Harry thought with a smirk.
"Yes," Daphne confirmed his suspicion. "Because you stink!"
Harry laughed out, earning him even more surprised, partly perturbed looks. For a moment, silence fell over the entrance hall before it was finally Dumbledore who spoke again.
"Yes, Elphias," he replied. "Harry just has to let us in on the secret of this house so we can come back here. Harry?"
Harry nodded to the Headmaster, before saying in a loud voice so that everyone could understand him, "This is Grimmauldplace 12, the ancestral home of the Blacks and Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."
This time the house did not vibrate; the magic worked silently.
"Thank you, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I'll be back the day after tomorrow at the latest so we can bring more people here."
With that, Dumbledore, Tonks and Doge – the last one still trembling all over – made their fare-wells, leaving Harry and Daphne alone with Remus in the dark entrance hall.
Remus frowned. "You seem to have been better prepared for what we would find here than I was," he said. It wasn't a question, but it was obvious that he expected an answer.
"Only with Kreacher," Harry replied with a shrug. "We only knew from Dobby that an old, grumpy house-elf lives here. That is why we've prepared an employment contract. The rest was improvised."
"And frankly, I find this place disgusting," Daphne continued in a cutting voice. "So I would ask that we stop standing around here, where we are being drizzled with dust. I suggest that Harry and I take a look at the upper floors and see what Kreacher is doing while you, Remus, please start cleaning down here."
Remus agreed to her plan, and so it was just Harry and Daphne walking upstairs past the house-elf heads.
"Above all, I want to find the library," Daphne told him in her mind. "Every pureblood family with self-respect has its library of magical books. Usually, it's also protected by several spells so that only recognized family members can enter unless the head of the family specifically allows it."
"So the perfect place to hide the bodies of Valeydor and Valeydis," Harry concluded.
The two didn't have to look long. Already on the next floor, they saw a huge double door made of dark, old wood. Unlike the rest of the house's furnishings, the door looked as clean as if it had recently been scrubbed. Powerful spells must have been protecting this room.
Full of expectation, Harry and Daphne, whose soul was instantly accepted by the magic of the house, stepped into the library, where they were already awaited by an impatient bird of flames.
"Harry, Daphne, please come out," came the voice of Remus Lupin, accompanied by an energetic knock on the wooden door. After a long day of cleaning and tidying up, they had retired to their room, wanting to spend a cozy evening together, but it looked like their teacher had other plans.
Daphne groaned in annoyance as she broke away from Harry, hurriedly pulling a jumper over her bra. Harry, too, was far from happy when he got up from the bed and walked to the door, behind which an apologetically smiling Remus was waiting for him, apparently well aware of what he had interrupted.
"What is it?" Harry asked, hoping his annoyance wasn't too obvious.
Remus then held up something that Harry couldn't see in the dim light of the hallway. "I found this in my old stuff," Remus replied, and it seemed to Harry that he was looking far into the distance, to long-gone events from a happier past. He'd seen that look on their teacher's face before, namely whenever they'd talked about his parents.
Suddenly curious, Harry leaned forward, now seeing that Remus was holding old, already somewhat yellowish playing cards.
"We used to play with these cards for nights on end," Remus continued nostalgically. "Me, James, Peter and ... um ... Sirius. Your father in particular kept cleaning us out when we played poker, outright scoundrel that he was."
Remus laughed while Harry's mind was already spinning. His father had once played with these cards? And poker? Did Remus want that they –
"Would you two be interested in a game?" Remus confirmed his suspicion. "We can play downstairs in the kitchen. Everything is clean now. Dobby would be there too. I've already asked him, he's just getting play chips."
Harry felt Daphne move to his side and take his hand. "I feel like he won't stop asking until we agree," she told him. "It might even be fun."
"Who are you and what did you do to old Daphne?"
"Old Daphne saw you looking at the other students in the common room, who were playing games together and having fun while you always had to keep me company while studying. I have problems imagining that this is really fun, but it's worth a try. And you deserved some time off, my love."
Harry let Daphne feel his love before clearing his throat loudly. After all, they had to keep up appearances. "Um, that sounds great, Remus," he said before turning his head to Daphne. "What do you think, Daph?"
"Sure, why not," Daphne replied, shrugging.
Remus' eyes shone with joy as he smiled at them. "Excellent! Then come down with me. I also got snacks and butterbeers. We'll have a nice game night."
Grinning and indeed a little curious, Harry and Daphne followed their enthusiastic teacher into the kitchen, where Dobby was already leaping up for joy. On the table behind him, a mountain of brightly colored socks piled up.
"Dobby brought his socks," Dobby squeaked. "Did Dobby do well, Mr. Lupin?"
Remus had stopped, looking puzzled at the mountain of socks. "What ... why did you get socks, Dobby?"
Dobby paused jumping for joy. With a slanted head, it was now his turn to look at Remus puzzled, as if he had just declared that he wanted to become a ballet dancer. "What does Mr. Lupin mean? Mr. Lupin told Dobby to get some valuable things for playing. These are the greatest treasures Dobby has! Mr. Harry and Miss Daphne gave them to Dobby!"
Harry and Daphne burst into laughter while Remus just shook his head. "Chips, Dobby," he sighed. "I told you to get some play chips, that is ... you know, it doesn't matter. Then we just play for socks. At least that's something new ... unbelievable..."
Still shaking his head, Remus sat down on one of the chairs around the kitchen table. "Well, anyway," he turned to Harry and Daphne, "have you two played poker before? If not, the rules are very simple…"
…
Although Harry and Daphne had never played poker before – the mere idea was ludicrous – they learned the rules quickly. It was a more than cheerful game night, in which the Butterbeer Remus had brought along had a visible effect. Before long, Dobby was lying drunk in a corner. Even if the house-elf hadn't had a good poker face before – he always wiggled his ears when he had a good hand – he was now completely left out. Thus, the game had turned into a competition between Harry, Daphne, and Remus – and Harry wasn't about to lose!
Carefully, he studied the cards in his hands. Two kings, not bad at all. In the middle of the table, there was already another king and a queen, that is if –
All of a sudden, Harry felt a touch on his leg that made him wince. A bare foot had tucked under his pants and was now brushing his skin. A moment later, Harry felt the familiar pull on his soul and Daphne's mind in his as she took hold of his eyes. Before Harry could react, her mind had already withdrawn, but the mischief was done. Daphne had seen his cards.
"Hey, stop cheating," Harry complained, but Daphne just grinned at him.
Remus looked up from his cards. "Huh? What do you mean, Harry?"
"Um, Daphne was just trying to look at my cards," Harry pulled himself together as Daphne's foot kept moving upwards. These would be hard last rounds...
Daphne gave him a knowing smile.
It was a normal day in the life of Anselm Peter Greybridge, the only priest in the country acknowledged by the Ministry of Magic. Although it was up to him to make marriages between witches and wizards so that they were accepted by the ministry, he spent most of his time preparing and conducting funerals, a much sadder affair. Just yesterday he had talked with a widow whose husband had died of Dragon Pox, and the next funeral was due this afternoon. It was only the first of a whole series of funerals in the next few weeks; nothing special in Anselm's everyday work, but one factor made several of the funerals different from the others: only an empty coffin would be carried to the grave.
Anselm wasn't an idiot, even if the other Ministry wizards often sneered at him. He could read the signs and saw through the maneuvers of Fudge and his camarilla, especially since he had the feeling that he was being watched and followed the last few days. You-Know-Who was back, Anselm was sure of that. And something had happened that had killed many of his Death Eaters. Perhaps they had sacrificed themselves in a ritual to bring their master back? Who knew what ideas those insane murderers and rapists could come up with ... Anselm only knew that he wanted to stay out of all trouble. He would bury the empty coffins of the Death Eaters, speak comforting words to their widows, and otherwise be as inconspicuous as possible. He only had three more years to go before retirement, then he would use his savings to buy a nice little house in the mountains, spending the rest of his life in peace and quiet; three more years in which he did not want to be drawn into intrigues or an impending war.
Anselm was dreaming of his house in the mountains when suddenly there was a knock on his office door. At the sound he winced briefly, but quickly regained control and called out loudly "Come in".
The door opened and inside stepped a middle-aged man in a patched cloak, sparse, already grayed hair, and numerous scars on his face. "Hello, are you Priest Greybridge?" asked the man.
"Yes, I am," replied Anselm. "Please take a seat. What can I do for you, Mr.…?"
"Lupin. Remus Lupin," the man introduced himself as he sat down on one of the two chairs in front of Anselm's desk.
"Well, Mr. Lupin, how can I help you?"
"I come on behalf of two of my students," Lupin replied. "I'm a teacher at Hogwarts, you know. These two students would like to get married soon, but this information mustn't be revealed beforehand. There are certain tensions, if you get what I mean. So unfortunately I also can't tell you the names of the bride and groom."
Anselm sighed. It was rare, but not entirely unusual, for people to approach him with such requests. It was probably once again the families of the two students who were against the young love. However, Anselm's oath – and his romantic heart – obliged him to marry off two people if they came before him with honorable intentions. Once the marriage was sealed in the face of magic, it would be indissoluble, however much the families resisted it.
"I see", Anselm replied calmly. "Are the two students 14 years or older?"
"They are."
Anselm nodded. "Then I don't see any reason against it, provided it's indeed a voluntary decision of the two of them, so they weren't coerced."
"They certainly weren't..." Lupin muttered.
"All right. Then I just have to know the time and place of the wedding."
"The two have decided that the wedding will take place on July 16," replied Lupin. "I'll pick you up here at noon that day so that we can travel together to the wedding location. Precautions, you surely understand."
Anselm nodded again. In his job he sometimes had to deal with paranoid people, but a certain caution was always recommended. Love – and hate – could bring out the worst in people.
After Anselm had entered the date in his calendar, the two said goodbye and Anselm turned back to the draft of his funeral speech on the desk in front of him. A normal day, indeed.
Nervously, Harry fiddled with his bow tie. Today was their long-awaited big day. Today he and Daphne would tie the knot and show the whole world that they were one. It was going to be one of the most beautiful days of his life, Harry was sure, yet he had seldom felt as queasy as he did at that moment.
"No need to worry," Remus encouraged him. "Daphne loves you, even a crooked bow tie won't change that."
"I just want to look chic for her," Harry replied in a trembling voice. "I want everything to be perfect for her today."
"And you look very chic, Harry! Even chicer than your father at his wedding, I can tell you that." Remus laughed, but Harry didn't feel like laughing at all.
Sighing, he looked at his reflection. Indeed, he hadn't dressed up so much since the Yule Ball, wearing a new tailcoat with a black bow tie and dragonhide shoes. He had even managed to tame his unruly hair with the help of numerous hair-care products.
"You really look nice," Remus assured him again. "But we should leave now, we shouldn't keep the priest waiting any longer."
Harry nodded. Remus had already picked up the priest and brought him to the place where he was about to marry Daphne. He would travel there with Remus, while Daphne, who was getting dressed in another room, would be brought by Dobby. The number of guests was small, but that was exactly what Harry and Daphne wanted. The day was theirs alone – the world could gossip about them afterwards.
Harry and Remus left Grimmauldplace to Apparate to a secluded beach of soft, white sand that Dobby had found for them. The sea had a special meaning for Harry and Daphne, so they couldn't imagine a more beautiful place for their wedding. In the face of endless water, they would take one more step towards their dream of a free and happy future.
Just as Harry and Remus had disappeared, a blue car stopped in front of the house and several red-haired figures got out of it, also a girl with bushy hair and a boy with a podgy face. They all held small pieces of paper in their hands while they gazed in amazement at the house appearing in front of them.
"Come on, don't dawdle," Molly Weasley urged the children. "Take your luggage and then into the house. Now come on!" With that she opened the car boot, handing her youngest son a trunk and a cage with a rat.
"Why is Scabbers in a cage?" asked Neville Longbottom curiously as he helped his grandmother get out.
Ron Weasley shrugged. "He seems to have gone mad," he replied. "Or he's got rabies or something. He's been trying to scratch and bite me for weeks now. The day before yesterday, he almost ran away but Dad caught him. I have no idea what got into him."
Next chapter: United and Unleashed
Preview:
"Getting married means that two people who love each other promise to be together forever."
AN:
This was more of a transitional chapter to lay the foundations for future events and developments. How do you think it will go on?
