Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I am not the creator of the world of Harry Potter.
Updated: Monday January 1, 2007A/N: Also posting my new story today… that amounts to two updates in one day. Can you just tell I am all out of sorts by the prospect of going back to work tomorrow? Can't say I didn't mind ten days of Christmas festivities / slouching around in my PJs to avoid the post-Christmas sales, but just as you get a taste of freedom… just as the Plot Bunnies wake up from their egg-nog induced comas and decide to come out and play… it's time to bloody well go back to work! grumbles
Chapter Six: Home?
"What is this place?" said Harry, turning around on the spot, taking in a 360 degree view of the room he now found himself in. Andromeda's Portkey had deposited them, quite liberally, in the centre of the main living area of the house, the elder woman herself having promised to make her own way back, to give Madison and Harry some time alone. To their immediate left, at the front of the house, was the 'living corner' with lounges, easy-chairs and Madison's latest acquisition – a television. Directly opposite, in the other corner, was an airy eating area, with a broad wooden table surrounded by eight high-back chairs. Slightly out of view, just around a corner and directly parallel to the dining area, was the kitchen, and directly behind them lay the hallway to the bedrooms.
From where Harry stood, he could see no less than three exterior walls of the house; and he knew they were exterior because they were filled almost exclusively with wide open windows and sets of double-doors, all draped with translucent white mosquito netting. Most of the doors, he could tell, were open, causing the curtains to billow in the wind; the motion of material fluttering casting his mind back to the archway, the veil, the similarities burning his eyes until he forced himself to look beyond the flowing white curtain. Outside, he could see a wide timber deck that, from what he could tell, surrounded the entire house; and beyond that, vibrant green foliage and a hint of blue.
"Is that the ocean?" he raised a brow. When Madison O'Ryan had turned up in his dormitory room to 'take him home', Harry had been so relieved about not going back to the Dursleys, that he didn't think to stop and ask questions.
When spending a moment running through a mental list of places that were safe for him to go, he had acknowledged that his options were severely limited, and as much as he had not been looking forward to returning, he had fully expected to let go of the Portkey and open his eyes to the familiar, damp hallway of number twelve Grimmauld Place.
Almost immediately thereafter, he realised that Madison had evidently been referring to her home. He'd not really given much thought as to where she, Jamie and her husband lived when she was not in London on Order business, but now he was evidently here, the questions were coming thick and fast; namely, what was he doing here with her? Turning to look at her completely, Harry endeavoured to ask just that.
"Why am I here?"
For the past several minutes, Madison could only watch as Harry took in his new home and began to ask his abstract questions. Knowing that he had not really turned his full attention to her, she knew that she could prolong the moment in which she would have to explain, and so just stood there and let him take it all in. When, finally, his eyes levelled at hers and asked the question she dreaded answering the most, she knew she could not prolong it any longer.
"Maybe we ought to sit down," she said quietly. "Would you like anything to eat? Drink? I'm afraid we don't have any house elves here, so it's all a pretty much self-sufficient state."
Harry accepted a seat on a softly upholstered, well-cushioned sofa and nodded slowly, his heart inwardly doing flip flops at Madison's inclusive use of 'we' when apologising about the lack of house elves.
"That's all right," he said levelly as he peeled off the Muggle jacket he had donned to stave off the slight chill of the Hogwarts hallways, draping it over the back of the settee he was sitting on. Deciding that if he was going to stay here, wherever it was, that he was going to do so on his own terms, he decided to let his expectations be known. "At the Dursleys' I was always kind of like their house elf, so it'd be a welcome change just to have to fend for myself."
Taken aback by Harry's bluntness, Madison's knees began to buckle and she suddenly found herself leaning on the arm of the lounge for support. Taking a deep breath, she reached over and placed a firm grip on Harry's shoulder, causing him to look up at her.
"It is your choice whether you choose to stay here or not, Harry," she said softly, "but I assure you that if you decide to make this your home, you will not have to fend for yourself. That's what I'm here for."
Eyes widening at the woman's display of what could only be described as a maternal gesture, Harry found he was speechless. Though he had met Madison several months previously, and had maintained an irregular mail contact with her since, it began to dawn on him that he really didn't know who she was. Before he could ask any of the pressing questions that were beginning to burn in his mind, she straightened up and smiled.
"I bet you could do with some Butterbeer, yes?" she said cheerily, leaping at the chance to manufacture a distraction; "and some food? I think there's still some Pumpkin Pasties in the ice box, I could put some in the oven for you, would you like that?"
"Oh, um, I don't want to be any trouble…" said Harry feeling awkward. "Just the Butterbeer would be fine…"
"Nonsense," said Madison, waving him off and skittering across the unpolished floorboards towards the kitchen, but not before retrieving Harry's jacket and flinging it on the hook of a coat rack as she passed. If Harry had looked closely, he would have seen his name stencilled above the shiny brass hook. Choosing against drawing attention to it, Madison busied herself, aimlessly turning out her cupboards. "If you're going to stay here I'm going to have to feed you eventually – might as well be while you still have some meat on your bones. I have been known to keep hungry troops waiting, I'm not very good in the kitchen you see, so when I'm offering you had better jump at it!"
"Oh, um, all right then?" said Harry, his response coming out more like a question as he rose from his chair and ironed out his trousers, following Madison around into the kitchen so that he might hear her better over the banging of cupboard doors. Hovering by a stool at the breakfast bar whilst the frantic woman bustled around nervously. Beginning to sense that the woman was using her hospitality as a delay tactic to answering what he was beginning to see were big questions of his, he cleared his throat. "I… I really don't mean to sound rude or anything, but I'm actually really confused as to what I am supposed to be doing here."
Madison gave up on the tray she had been trying to wrestle from out of an over-stuffed, heavily frosted freezer and sighed. Slowly wiping the flakes of ice from her hands, she closed the door, removed a Butterbeer and a Muggle wine cooler from the fridge and headed towards Harry, closing the fridge door behind her with her foot.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, taking a deep breath as she motioned for him to take a seat and pushed the ice-cold bottle towards him. "I'm not handling this too well. I never expected that I would have to tell you this alone…"
"Tell me what?" said Harry softly, urging her on when he noticed that her voice had trailed off.
"That… that…" Madison fought to find the words. "God if only it were so simple to be just one thing! Ask me something small… something I can answer."
"All right…" said Harry, looking around the room. Noticing for the first time that it was broad daylight outside when, barely an hour ago he had been leaving Hogwarts in the middle of the Leaving Feast, he found his first question. "Where are we?"
"Australia," said Madison. After the reaction her natural accent had gotten with Ron and Hermione, she had chosen to adopt an Irish lilt with Harry for the time being. In removing Harry from the school, she had done so without giving him the opportunity to say goodbye to his friends. To her surprise, it was something that Harry had almost insisted upon; Madison could only assume that he was tiring of seeing their pitying stares and wanted a clean break. Either that, or he hadn't quite realised how far they were going – that they were indeed just going some place like Order Headquarters, where all his friends were likely to spend a majority of their summer.
"Australia?" said Harry, mouth agape.
"In the far north-east of the continent, in the tropics of the state of Queensland, to be precise," said Madison. "Welcome to Paradise Lodge."
"Paradise Lodge?" mirrored Harry, looking around the room once more, paying particular attention to the wilderness beyond the balcony outside. In the end he decided how this could be defined as a little slice of paradise. He didn't know why, but he had felt remarkably at ease from the moment he arrived… well, as much at ease as he could ever feel in a strange place.
"Any other questions about our location?" said Madison conversationally. She felt perennially safer on these neutral topics and could go on about them all day. "I assure you that there is an illustrious history about how this little patch of rainforest came to be in our possession, but I've a feeling you have some more direct questions…"
"How am I here?" said Harry. "Why am I with you? I mean it's not that I don't want… I mean, I don't understand why you… um… well, it's not safe for me here."
"All right, so I see I'm not going to be able to keep this conversation to a nice and slow one question at a time kind of pace," stated Madison, waving off Harry's apology before he had a chance to voice it. "Don't apologise! You have the right to know these answers! It is I who should be apologising for not quite knowing how to articulate the best response."
"Maybe you should start at the beginning," suggested Harry.
"Oh, no," said Madison, shaking her head. "Trust me, that will only raise more questions." – she paused – "okay I'm going to answer what you asked, in order, and I can only ask you to save the questions which will most certainly come up until I am finished. Do you think you can do that?" at Harry's nod, she nodded and reached blindly into a drawer under the breakfast bar for a pen and notepad. "-here, you may find it'll help to write them down as they come… because I sure as hell know that if I were in your shoes I'd not be able to stop myself from interrupting otherwise… in fact…" she added as an afterthought, thinking back to the day she and Sirius had met and he had told her everything; "I can call upon personal experience."
Frowning slightly, Harry nodded and accepted the pen and paper, going so far as to poise the distinctly Muggle ballpoint at the bottom of the top line on the A6 sized legal pad.
"First of all," said Madison, beginning what she knew would be one of the most important make-or-break conversations in her life; "let me assure you that this property has wards to rival Hogwarts, and when it comes to safety, only four wizards alive on this earth know you're here. Six, if you include yourself and Jamie, but I doubt you're about to disclose your location to Voldewart anytime soon, and Jamie can't construct sentences yet so I think it's safe to assume that he's not a security risk…" she paused to let Harry take in that fact. "You are here because, by law, I have recently been appointed your guardian. Now, how that came to be is a rather complicated and convoluted story which I will get into in a moment, but for now I just want to assure you that I most certainly do want the job… if you'll let me… no, no, you don't have to give me an answer now. You may well change your mind when you've heard the entire story. How am I doing so far?"
"Oh, well, um…" Harry began, only to be cut off by a stranger in the doorway.
"MAD!" said a loud, boisterous voice from behind the teenager. "What rock have you bloody well been hiding under? You nicking off, gallivanting around the world without telling me anymore? I'm insulted… oh, 'allo… whose this we have here? Little bit young ta be drinkin' beer there, aren't we kid?"
Harry jumped as a meaty hand clapped down on his shoulder, his hand instinctively moving to cover the label of his Butterbeer bottle as he looked up at Madison in alarm. Cursing under her breath before looking up and meeting Harry's eyes, Madison rushed to get control of things before they quickly got out of hand.
"Bruce! Hi!" she said in surprise, rounding the breakfast bar to navigate her friend away from Harry. Bruce Anderson was one of her oldest childhood friends, who ran a charter company out of Port Douglas using a fleet of runabouts that her grandfather had patented. The man was a shrewd tourism operator and entrepreneurial businessman with a raucous sense of humour and typical Australian 'ocker' charm. Unfortunately, the man was also completely unable to take a hint; Madison knew she was going to have her work cut out for her if she was going to get rid of this unexpected house guest without damaging their friendship.
Steeling herself for introductions, she rounded her shoulders and put on her best game face. She could only hope that Bruce didn't start asking about her husband.
"Harry, this is Bruce; I've known him since preschool and yet for some reason he's still around," she said, the familiar line suddenly seeming stale and rehearsed on her tongue. Recovering, she turned to Bruce. "And Bruce, this is…"
"Harry bloody Potter!" said Bruce, grabbing Harry's hand and yanking it up and down like a farmer would a water pump in a drought. "Blimey, kid, you're all we hear about these days! Great to finally meet ya! Mads, I hope you weren't planning on hiding him from us, not after the lead-in we've all been fed since Christmas! Does Kaz know he's here yet, she's going to shit bricks when she finds out I saw him first!"
Watching helplessly as Harry seemed to shrink lower and lower in his chair, wide green eyes filled with a mix of bewilderment, resignation and confusion, Madison had to resort to thwacking her friend on his upper arm to get his attention.
"BRUCE!" she snapped, pulling him away from Harry. Thinking fast, she didn't spare any time to congratulate herself on her cover. "Leave him alone, will ya? Harry's just arrived home for the holidays; we're both horrendously jet-lagged. Do me a favour and piss off for a while, give's some time to get settled… and for Pete's sake do not tell Kaz you've seen us. A lot's gone down since we last got together and I'm too busy to explain… I'll invite you all over when we're ready. Be sure to act surprised when you see Harry, kay?"
"Oh, all right," said Bruce, seeming to, for once in his life, have a moment of perceptiveness. Ducking his head back in the door, fighting against Madison's physical nudges towards the deck, he looked over at Harry. "See ya later, kid! Just let Mad know if ya want to go out on the Reef, and I'll see about gettin' some colour into that pallid English schoolboy skin of yours, eh?"
Harry could only nod dumbly, his mind too confused to truly absorb any of what the man was offering at that time. No sooner had Madison returned to her place opposite him at the breakfast bar, profusely apologising for the unexpected interruption, did he realise something quite odd.
"Your voice…" he said suspiciously. "It's different. Your accent, I mean…"
"Ah, yes…" said Madison, popping open her drink and allowing herself a generous swig. "An Australian accent amongst a houseful of European wizards would have been a little too conspicuous. I kept it up until now, because I thought you could use the consistency… I didn't mean to be deceptive."
"What is an Australian witch doing in the Order?" asked Harry. "I've never heard anything of Voldemort having any interests outside of Europe-"
"I'm not a witch, Harry," said Madison sadly. "I apologise if that was your assumption, but I was… I was… well, in a matter of speaking, I was undercover."
"But if you're a Muggle, what are you doing in the wizarding world? How does your house have wards around it? How can you have Butterbeer in your fridge? How did you come to be at headquarters? How did you become my guardian…" Harry's voice trailed off as a particular thought struck him. "We're not… are we related?"
Madison sighed, and took another swig of her drink.
"We are, in a manner of speaking," she said wistfully, but quickly cut in again before the flash of excitement on Harry's face could settle. "Not in the way you'd expect, I'm afraid, but I do want you to know that I've come to consider you as much a son to me as little Jamie. My husband spoke very highly of you… to anyone who would listen, in fact – just look at Bruce…"
Ignoring the last bit of what the woman before him had said, Harry was fixated on the implication that he was in somehow related to this woman through her husband. The wheels in his mind were starting to turn, and he could not help but feel as though the next few minutes would change his perspective on everything.
"Your… your husband?" said Harry, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Yes," said Madison in a hoarse voice, the memory of her husband pulling her down into a well of sadness at the best of times, but now as she was faced with Harry either accepting or rejecting her, she found she was dangerously close to losing it. Already, silent tears had began to fall as she reached over and grasped Harry's hands in her own and stared directly into his eyes. Summoning every ounce of courage that she had left, she took a breath and uttered one short, pain-filled word.
"Sirius."
Reflexively jerking his hands out of Madison's grip, Harry reeled back in his chair and stared at her in shock, the dots taking a few moments to connect themselves in his mind. His first thought touched upon how it was possible, before broadening to feelings of deep sadness… and then betrayal. Sirius had been married, and he had never even known… had never even thought to ask. If that was all there was to it, maybe he could have accepted the news, but he had met Madison, and both she and Sirius did not allude to being married. Why had they lied to him? Did they not want him as part of their family? And what about Jamie? With Madison as his mother, Sirius had to be the father, and yet why didn't Sirius want to share that with him? Madison had said something about being undercover… maybe Sirius couldn't let people know he was married because he was a fugitive. Remembering what Snape had said about Sirius leading a double life, however, Harry couldn't help the chill that ran down his spine at the implication that the whole Order must have known of the relationship, and yet still his own godfather couldn't trust him enough with the secret.
"Harry… Harry, please say something!" said Madison, sobbing openly.
"Why am I here?" asked Harry coolly. "Why do you want me now, when you and Sirius evidently didn't want me here before? Is it because Sirius is gone? Do you expect to use me to cling to the world your husband introduced you to?"
"Oh God, Harry, if only you knew!" wailed Madison, resting her elbows on the bench top and burying her face in her hands. "I don't even know where to begin."
"I don't know if I want to hear it," said Harry tightly, pushing his bottle aside and rising to his feet. Once he had done that, however, he stopped, a blank, lost look on his face when he realised that he didn't really have anywhere else better to be, let alone any means of getting back to England.
"Sirius… Sirius… he was so scared…" said Madison, hiccoughing into the table, unable to raise her head from her hands. "He was so scared that you would think badly of him… that you wouldn't understand… oh God Harry do you really think that he… that both of us… didn't want you here? Why else do you think you've been all my friends have heard about? I don't think you realise how much it hurt Sirius to see you with those Muggles, to live his life here without getting to share it with you. Second to Jamie, I don't think that man loved anything more; no, scratch that, his love for you both was equally on par, as though you were truly his own."
"I don't understand," said Harry, his own voice becoming hoarse with emotion at the mere suggestion that someone had truly cared about him that much. "If all that was true… why didn't he tell me he was married, how come no one told me who you were? If I can be here now, why couldn't I have come before?"
Madison looked up, deep sadness and regret in her eyes.
"Originally, not even the Order were to find out Sirius and I were married," she explained. "You have to understand that I am a Muggle… my son, the first half-blood born to a family line that prided itself on its purity. Of course, you know that Sirius held no stock in all that rot, but you have to understand that Sirius was terribly afraid of me and Jamie being targeted by Voldemort, as it was standard practice during the first war for Voldemort to send his Death Eaters to eliminate lines that had become impure. Not only that, but so long as Sirius remained wanted by the Ministry, if it had come out that he had married whilst on the run, and that I had known he was a fugitive, had we been caught together I would have been held culpable for aiding and abetting a fugitive, and Jamie would have been placed in an orphanage. We couldn't tell you because we weren't sure on how Voldemort was getting his information… I'm sorry, Harry, but for a while there it really did seem as though Voldemort was plundering your mind through your connection… that's why Sirius so reluctantly gave his consent for Snape to teach you Occlumency. It wasn't until Dumbledore questioned Kreacher after… after… well, this week, that we knew."
She wiped a hand over her face and sighed. Somehow she knew that to inform Harry that she and Sirius has resolved to tell him everything that summer, irrespective of if they knew where Voldemort was getting his information or not, would not bode well with the grieving teenager. Already, the pain of knowing all that Sirius had missed out on – for reasons that now seemed so over-cautious and useless – was enough to keep her up at night, tortured by what ifs.
"Coming to Grimmauld Place for Christmas was not planned," she told the boy, continuing her explanation. "Sirius had spent most of the past year or so travelling back and forth between here and England with a Portkey, using a Time Turner to be in two places at once – that's why he looked so tired and emaciated, he was running himself to the bone. When the holidays came, he was going to use the Time Turner, but I was stubborn, and not only did I want to meet you, Harry, but I wanted Jamie's first Christmas to be with his entire family," at this she looked pointedly at Harry, nodding slightly at him so as to confirm that she did, indeed, just mean to infer that she considered Harry a part of her family. Reaching over and grabbing the boy's hand again, this time relieved when he didn't jerk away, she held his gaze. "It breaks my heart that Sirius is not here to see his dream become a reality. This day would have been amongst the most proudest and happiest in his life… and I do really hope that you decide to stay."
Looking up at this woman who had shared her life with his godfather, Harry blinked away heavy tears.
"I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be right now," he said in a shaking voice, his bottom lip trembling uncontrollably. There were still a few things left unexplained, and he couldn't quite understand why he hadn't been told, but the sincerity in the woman's voice as she assured him how much Sirius had cared and they both had wanted him here had won him over. And truth be told, anywhere was looking better than the Dursleys at that moment.
Her hand still clasped in Harry's, Madison had rounded the edge of the counter and pulled Harry away from his stool in an instant. Before Harry could even expel his first sob, he found himself pulled into a warm, motherly embrace, wiry arms wrapped around him tightly, long slender fingers carding through his hair as a soft voice whispered soothing words into his ear.
"Welcome home, Harry," said Madison, joining Harry in his weeping, the pair looking quite the sight as they stood in the middle of the kitchen holding and rocking each other.
As Harry allowed his armour to crumble for what felt like the first time in his life, he held on for dear life and cried. It felt strange to have a woman hold him… Mrs Weasley's hugs had always felt a little over-bearing, and he'd always felt as though he was encroaching upon Weasley territory. This woman here, was like an extension of Sirius… the closest thing to a godmother that he could fathom, she considered him family, and had welcomed him home. A home that Sirius had called his own… a home in the country, where you could see the sky.
Epilogue
It felt like it took an age for him to fall; the strength of his cousin's curse throwing him backwards with no hope of recovery. The veil, he knew only too well, was flapping at his heels invitingly, and he knew even before it happened that to lose his balance would be suicide.
Irony was an iron-clad bitch sometimes.
Just like Bella.
He could not help but lock eyes with the crazed woman in question as the curse hit home, the surging feelings of resentment and anger at her maniacal and triumphant laughter giving way to panic as his ears heard something else.
Harry. Harry screaming his name.
A choked feeling of failure threatened to overcome him as he couldn't help but note that right then, that very moment, marked the very last time he'd ever hear his godson's call. Forgetting all of the things that would now be left to Madison to tell the boy, his heart twisted in anguish at the injustice of not being able to say goodbye. It would all be over in seconds, and whilst his mind was going a million miles an hour, there would just not be enough time.
Twelve years in Azkaban in the exclusive company of Dementors did not leave him without an unhealthy measure of pessimism. Once the cold steel door had slammed shut on his life as a free man – a title he now knew he'd never live to enjoy again – he had given up on ever finding love. When he had eventually fled England, determined to push the horrors of the North Sea behind him, he would have been rapt with fresh food in his belly and a dry place to sleep. To have found all of that, and so much more, on the beach that day was, even now, beyond his comprehension. To never see his beloved wife, and their little Jamie, ever again… the thought alone was enough to stop his heart, veil or no.
Fear and resignation filled his eyes as he locked eyes with his godson one last time. He wanted so badly to apologise to the stricken teenager. Apologise for convincing James that Pettigrew was a better choice of Secret Keeper. Apologise for going after said two-timing rat and getting himself locked up in Azkaban when he ought to have been fulfilling his duties as godfather. Apologise for keeping so many secrets, for letting petty concerns and fear keep the boy at arm's length. Apologise for not being strong enough to live through the latest battle the boy had to endure – the first, and only battle they would ever fight side by side.
Questions filled his mind as his vision started to fade. Whoever said that one's life flashed before their lives at the moment of death, had obviously never died. There was just not enough time to think of what had been in the past; his thoughts were far too preoccupied with the future. The future that his loved one's would face without him. It was, in a clinical sense, a most mixed blessing that his son would, like Harry, grow to only remember him through the recollection of others. Having lost his parents at such a young age, being without James and Lily had become a simple matter of fact for the bespectacled teenager.
His death now, he knew, would be hard on them all, Harry and Madison especially, but if one thought consoled him as conscious thought began to fail him, it was that they had each other. Madison, being the wonderfully head-strong and innovative woman he fell in love with, would take care of his 'boys', irrespective of the Dumbledore-sized hurdles in her way, and between Moony, Tonks, Andromeda and the little boy who bought so much joy to them all, his wife would carry on. It had been quietly acknowledged between Moony and himself that not since the fiery Lily Potter had graced this earth had they ever set eyes upon such a formidable woman. He couldn't think of anyone better placed to raise his son and look out for his godson.
Lily… James. A fleeting, final thought crossed his mind as he contemplated the question of the great beyond. Would shedding his mortal coil mean that he would be reunited with loved ones he had lost? Anticipation rippled in his very soul at the thought of finally finding resolution. The questions that had haunted him since his actions and influence had indirectly led to his friends' deaths would finally be answered, and he could find peace.
He wasn't aware of the point in which his anguish had turned into acceptance, but somehow he knew that the ones he was leaving behind would know he would be watching them from the best seat in the house, James and Lily and all of the people they had lost in the first war standing firmly by his side. It was a crime how little time he got to spend with his family, that much was true, but as he had drunkenly declared at James' Stag Night, men like him were around for a good time, not a long time. The happiness he had finally found with Madison and Jamie… Moony and Harry… may have been fleeting by comparison; but coming to a man who had all but given up on finding but a day's solace from the terrors of Azkaban, it would be enough.
Death, now, would be the next great adventure…
END STORY
A/N: I don't care which way I chose to sugar-coat it, Sirius going through that damn veil is still horrible. But I hope, at least, by depicting him accepting his fate, it'll make things a little bearable. And at least I had him find a little bit of happiness before he kicked it… unlike certain authors who we won't mention… locking him up in a house with a homicidal House Elf and insane portrait indeed!