Disclaimer: I don't own HP&Co.
A/N: Well, yeah. So I was really bored yesterday, and the muse was talking and the computer was working, and I couldn't resist the chapters. I also like to think I was making up for that several-day-long stretch when I was completely unable to update. Oh, in the last chapter I reference Les Mis, and I should probably state that I've never been affiliated with that tale, either; aside from loving the story, that is. A lot of people asked about the irony of Sirius' prisoner number, it's from Les Mis; Jean Valjean's prisoner number was 24601.
Chapter Eleven: A Bit of This, A Bit of That
The first few days of November were rather odd. At least, insofar as Harry saw. Remus was acting weird, but wouldn't say anything about what was on his mind. Harry shrugged it off, thinking that if it continued for much longer, he'd set Remus down and demand an explanation.
Despite Remus' distraction, he continued training Harry in magic at a frantic pace. The concentration charm Hermione showed Harry was put to good use as Remus progressed into more and more difficult magics. Harry managed to finish out the curriculum for transfiguration, charms, DADA, history of magic, and herbology – though there weren't any magical plants nearby, illusions showed Harry what they looked like and with a combination of his experience tending the Dursleys' garden and the books on the subject, both Harry and Remus felt confident that Harry would be able to pass that OWL without too much difficulty.
The only subjects Harry had yet to delve into in any detail were ancient runes, arithmancy, and potions. The very three subjects that Remus felt he was under-qualified to teach. With arithmancy, Harry scanned through a couple of texts on the topic and found that it was a combination of algebra, chemistry and physics, as the topics pertained to magic and magical theory. Harry decided to work through the topic on his own, as the muggle equivalents of the class were all topics he was good at. He sent the smaller exercises in the book to Hermione by owl, and when she confirmed he was doing things correctly, he attempted the intermediate and harder levels, sending the work to Hermione to be checked by Professor Vector at Hogwarts. The professor, likewise, verified that Harry was doing well in the class.
In looking through the runes text, Harry realized he had seen this topic before. It took him a day or two to recall that he had once read about runes a couple of years earlier, for an extra-credit project for history. The muggle notion that runes were used primarily as written language was correct, but incomplete. Had Harry ever had an interest in the art of divination, he would have likely found that runes were used as a fortune-telling tool, with each symbol representing something else. The meanings of the runes were the same in wizardry; however they weren't used as fortune-telling devices. They were used to create new spells, more powerful potions, and to imbue objects with a permanent magic. Harry noticed that in studying runes and arithmancy, his understanding of magical theory was enhanced exponentially.
On November fourth, Jennifer pulled Harry into the office. "What's going on, Jenn?"
"Come here and let me know if this was what you had in mind." Jennifer sat him down in the chair and indicated that he should open the icon on the desktop that looked like a little cauldron.
"It's done?" Harry asked while double-clicking on the icon.
"Possibly. It needs to be run a bit to isolate any bugs in the system. It went a bit faster than I had anticipated because I was able to scout out a couple of freeware programs that existed already for chemistry and cooking and one for database integration. I simply combined them and added a few graphics to make it interesting. That company that transcribed the book into digital format had it done in a week. Don't thank me until you get the bill… Their expedited services aren't cheap."
Harry listened while he watched a bit of animation as the software loaded. A cartoon cauldron landed with a clang over a flame and a menu of options appeared on its side. Brew Something, Browse Ingredients and Practices, Study Guide, Test Yourself, What About This?, Existing Recipes, and Exit. "Care to explain the options? I think I know what 'Existing Recipes' and 'Exit' mean. What about the rest?"
"Sure. The 'browse' option is a link into the Compendium's list of ingredients and methods of brewing, the 'recipes' option is the list of complete potions found in the Compendium. The 'study guide' is broken down into levels of difficulty, same with the 'test' option. The 'brew' option gives you a list of ingredients and methods and will tell you what happens if you combine your choices. The 'what about' option will allow you to select an existing potion and make alterations to it. Both the 'brew' and 'what' selections will also give you a statistical breakdown of possible success."
"Wow. You did all this by combining a chemistry and a cooking program?"
"And piggybacking it on an extensive database."
"Cool." Harry dove into the program after quickly casting the concentration charm on himself. After six hours of exploring the program, he reported back to Jennifer that the only bugs he was able to locate were that the entries from Kn-Ku under the 'browse' heading wouldn't pull up, and when putting together an existing potion under the 'brew' option, the animation of the cauldron got stuck in a loop. Jennifer promised to have the bugs ironed out in the next few days.
November 5, 1997
Dear Hermione,
It's done! It's done! It's done!
Jennifer managed to get a working alpha copy of that potions program up and running! There are still a few bugs that need working out, but from what I've seen so far, it seems to be precisely what I wanted. Now all we need to do is figure out a way to bring computers into the wizarding world. Any ideas?
I know that electricity doesn't work reliably in magic-heavy areas… Why? It doesn't seem like there should be that much of a difference between the two… Are there no magical appliances? Radios? I have a feeling that if there are, we only need to examine how they work to find out how to get a computer up and running.
In any case, I need to get going. I have class in about a half an hour.
See you on the thirteenth!
Harry
November 6, 1997
Dear Harry,
That's wonderful news! I'll have to come over during Christmas hols to take a look at it.
We do have radios; they're called Wizarding Wireless sets. I admit I hadn't given a thought to how they work until you asked about them in your letter. I'll see what I can find in my spare time. If I find anything important, I'll owl you.
See you next Thursday.
Hermione
Sirius looked up at the sky again. It was a sight denied him for nearly sixteen years, and something he had never thought to see again in his lifetime. He was sitting in the garden of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London. A house he had left as a teenager, vowing never to return to, Which goes to prove that even the most passionate of words must be eaten from time to time.
A week of freedom. A week spent wondering when he was going to awaken to the dementors' chill. A week having to remind himself that he never had to go back. A very long, stressful, and lonely week.
He spent the first night of his freedom in a private corner of Hogwarts' hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey assessed his physical health. For all that he spent almost half his lifetime in surroundings that didn't lend themselves to health; there was little wrong with him in the physical sense; malnourishment and a suppressed case of pneumonia. The pneumonia was cured with a couple of potions. The malnourishment would have to be battled the hard way; exercise, vitamins, and as large of meals as he could stomach.
He spent a solid six hours soaking in a bathtub that first night, as well. The water had to be changed out five times for him to be truly clean. Poppy cut his tangled mass of hair, which had hung nearly to his knees, off just above his shoulders and for the first time since the morning of Halloween 1981 he was clean-shaven. The image in the mirror didn't match his memory of himself. He was a long way from the mischievous, tanned aristocrat he had been. He thought he looked like a walking skeleton. Waxy white skin stretched tight over cheekbones and his head looked too large for his neck to hold upright. His eyes, sunken as they were, only lent to the illusion of a reanimated corpse. They were ringed by bluish-black smudges, but were still a clear, fathomless grey, unclouded by either insanity or desperation.
Sirius shook himself to bring himself back to the present. "I have to get out of this house. It's not healthy, being here again after so long… Can't say I'm not happy that Mummy Dearest died while I was… away. Maybe I can finally be rid of her fanaticism… Now, there's a thought… I wonder if anyone is crazy enough to want to buy this place?" Sirius talked to himself as he wandered back into the gloomy house that was his birthright.
He was startled out of his thoughts when he saw Dumbledore standing in the hallway. "Good evening, Sirius."
Sirius nodded to the headmaster. "Albus. What can I do for you?"
Dumbledore smiled, "It came to my attention that this place is likely not to be the best location for your recuperation."
Sirius barked a short laugh. "Poppy finally beat that into your skull, did she?"
Albus chuckled, "That she did, my boy."
Sirius escorted Albus to the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "No, thank you. I actually stopped by to let you know that the Ministry purchased a house in Little Whinging a couple of months ago and they no longer have need of it. You are welcome to buy it from them at the same price they purchased it for. It's in a muggle neighborhood, though."
Sirius shrugged, "That doesn't matter to me. Why did the Ministry have need of a house in a muggle area?"
"An extended auror investigation regarding a wizard in the area. The auror in charge of the investigation is actually someone you might know."
Sirius snorted, "Someone still in the corps from when I was? Who? Moody?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "No, your cousin Nymphadora."
Sirius coughed in surprise. "Little Nymphie? She's an auror? Merlin… The last time I saw her, she was only eight… She's an auror?"
Dumbledore laughed. "The one constant in life is that time passes, whether we want it to or not. Even without your time in Azkaban, it is likely you would still be expressing this level of disbelief from time to time."
Sirius shivered and decided to ignore his shock for the time being. "You said the house is in Little Whinging?" Dumbledore nodded. "That's fine with me. I just don't want to be here any longer than I have to."
"Completely understandable. Should I let the Ministry know they've a buyer?"
Sirius nodded. "What's the address? Do you know if Nymphie is still there?"
"It's six, Wisteria Walk, and no. Nymphadora left shortly after her investigation was complete."
"That's too bad. I would have liked to catch up with her."
"I'm sure there will be time enough in the future."
Sirius nodded, "Now that I have a future."
Sirius Black Innocent!
By Rita Skeeter – special correspondent
The Ministry of Magic made a shocking announcement this morning. Minister Fudge called a press-conference, and stated "It has come to the attention of this administration that a gross miscarriage of justice was perpetrated upon an innocent wizard sixteen years ago." He went on to explain that evidence has surfaced proving Black to be innocent of murder charges that sent him to Azkaban on November 2, 1981.
Ron sighed and handed the paper to Seamus. "This is what Dumbledore wanted Scabbers for. I wasn't allowed to talk about it until it became public knowledge, but Scabbers was actually Pettigrew in his animagus form."
Hermione read the article over Seamus' shoulder. "Wow, Ron. You should tell Harry about this."
"Why?"
"I thought everyone knew – Sirius Black is Harry's godfather. It says so in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."
Ron nodded, "You said he's coming up next week for the quidditch match, right? I'll talk to him then. In the mean time, though, since I lost my 'pet rat,' Dumbledore said the school would buy me a replacement pet. What should I get? I was thinking an owl, but a kneazle like Crookshanks could be useful, too."
Seamus, Hermione, and Ron discussed the issue while continuing on their way to Charms.
"Please stay after class, Harry."
Harry nodded as he cleaned up his brushes in Mr. Thatcher's advanced two-dimensional art class. He was just putting the painting he was working on to the side of the class so it could finish drying when Mr. Thatcher snuck up behind him. "You've progressed more this year than you did last year."
Harry jumped and spun around, "Sorry, Mr. Thatcher. I didn't hear you come up behind me. You were saying?"
"I was just noticing that, compared to last year, you are progressing much faster in your technique this year." He nodded towards the canvas.
Harry shrugged, "I was able to paint a bit over the summer."
"And you didn't the year before?"
Harry shook his head. "Before, I was living with my aunt and uncle. Now, I'm not. It makes a world of difference in more areas of my life than just my art."
Thatcher nodded again, this time meeting Harry's gaze. He was a very tall man, and also very skinny. His straw-colored hair was perpetually pulled into a ponytail and he always had on clothes that had ink, clay, or paint stains on them. "I had an interesting conversation with an investigator this summer. About you and your family, in fact."
Harry laughed. "You and almost everyone else in the neighborhood or that ever met me."
"Did everything turn out well?"
Harry shrugged, "That remains to be seen. Though the investigation is over with, no one's been charged, yet. I think it's mostly my fault. I don't know if I want to ruin the lives of my last remaining family, but I also know I don't want to go back to them."
Thatcher sighed, "I hope you will forgive me, that I didn't see what was going on."
"Not your fault, Mr. Thatcher. I didn't want people to know, and most folks are more than happy just to see what I wanted them to."
"True. Disappointing, but true. Let me know how it all turns out, will you?"
Harry nodded, "Of course. You've done more for me in the last few years than the Dursleys ever did. I think I can spare a bit of my time to make sure all that effort hasn't gone to waste."
"Good." He smiled at Harry. "Now, where did I put those hall-passes?" He rummaged around on his desk for the pass that would excuse Harry from being late to his next class.
A/N2: There y'all go, a little bit of everyone. What pet should Ron go for? Owl? Kneazle? Or something else entirely?
Sorry that it's not quite as long as the first few chapters, but my muse wasn't being all that cooperative today. I'm going to be a little busy this week, so you might not see another update until after Friday, but, with luck, it will be nice and long. Or cover a bit more plot.
I need reviews like I need air to breathe and water to drink.