Harry Potter and the Power of Time

by RossWrock

Now AU, 6th Year, following OoTP. Tired of the way Dumbledore and the Order treat him, and ready to face his destiny, Harry dedicates long hours to muggle and magical training to take the fight to Voldemort for a change. Slight HPGW, not shippy though.

26. Unexpected Pleasures

Harry Potter and the Power of Time

Chapter 26 – Unexpected Pleasures

"Oh my God!" Harry cried out. Then he turned to Remus with tears in his eyes, and simply said, "Thank you."

Harry was almost afraid to touch the gift; an insecurity that Remus immediately picked up on. "Go ahead Harry; it's okay. They're not awake yet. I have to cast a spell first before they become sentient."

Harry barely heard what Remus said, but the short speech broke him out of his stupor, and he began to move again. Turning the portrait in his hands every which way, Harry examined it from every conceivable angle.

It was a large portrait he supposed; measuring four feet across and nearly three feet high; but still nowhere near the size of the portraits at Hogwarts that covered doorways and secret passages. The back looked to be of ordinary canvas, and Harry could make out a small artist's signature in a bottom corner. He didn't know the name, but was sure Remus could tell him later.

It was the picture itself that stunned Harry. The frame was made of an ornamental dark wood molding, but the picture was one Harry had seen before. In the living quarters of his trunk, there were three large tapestries that Harry had been informed had been provided by his grandfather Harold Potter. One had been the family tapestry that Harry immediately recognized, another had been a family portrait that looked to old to be of any of his immediate relatives, and the third had been a simple countryside location, with rolling hills and a small stream passing right by a quaint cottage. It was the same scene, and the same cottage, that appeared on Harry's new portrait. Of course, there was one large difference. The three frozen forms of his parents and Sirius Black, waiting to be given life.

"How did you get this?" Harry asked, almost scared to know the answer. If this was another secret Dumbledore had been hiding from him, he would never be able to forgive the old man.

"Well, like I said, Sirius and I were working on this gift last year. But then when he, well, when he died, I didn't think it was right to give it to you then. Luckily the portrait wasn't yet completed, and I approached the artist with a request to add Sirius to the painting. I had to wait until I could get my hands on his imprint, and then it was just a matter of time until waiting for Christmas. The painting's been done for about five weeks now, but I wanted to wait. This is Godric's Hollow Harry; where you lived when you were born."

Somehow the news about the home didn't surprise him. He didn't recognize it from memories or anything like that; the name just fit the description. Something else Remus said though raised a question in him. "Imprint?" Harry asked. "I don't know what you're talking about. But why hasn't anyone told me this was possible before? Don't you think I would have wanted a portrait of my parents if I knew I could have had one?"

"You don't know, that's right," Remus looked surprised. "Sorry Harry, but sometimes even I forget that you haven't been brought up with wizard customs. It's long been a practice that when a witch or wizard becomes of age, they take a mental imprint of themselves, in case they should die. Most forget about it after that, but occasionally when the witch or wizard has done something with their lives to cause acclaim, they update that mental imprint later in life. It's a bit like taking a memory and putting it into a pensieve, but instead of taking only one thought, the process takes a broader, more general impression of the person. Then when the person dies, if someone wants, a friend or relative can commission a portrait.

"That's the expensive part really, and that's why it's not a common practice. Usually only historical figures or famous wizards get commissioned, but I've been saving money for a long time, and Sirius generously contributed."

"I still don't understand how these imprints get turned into a painting though," Harry said. "And if it was so easy, only expensive, why wasn't I presented with that option for my parents a long time ago?"

"It's complicated in your case Harry," Remus informed him. He saw Harry thought he was going to dismiss his question, and interrupted him before he could say anything more.

"Just listen; I promise I'll explain. You see, you're parents gave their imprints when they graduated from Hogwarts, after they became adults. But with Voldemort on the loose, and the fighting with the Order of the Phoenix they did, updating them wasn't exactly a priority. So they never did, and I'm afraid that when they're activated, they won't remember anything that happened in their lives past the day when they gave them. I'm sorry Harry, but not only will they not know you, they won't even recognize you. Lily was two years away from getting pregnant, and I'm sure a fully grown son will be the last thing your parents expect.

"There's more too. When your parents went into hiding, they knew they might not make it out alive, and entrusted Sirius with some of their belongings. If you remember, while Peter was made the secret keeper, Sirius still remained their most trusted friend. So among the things he stored for them in his vault, were their imprints. Then days later he got sent to Azkaban, and even if I knew he had your parent's imprints in his possession, there would be no way to get them out. Only Sirius could have opened his vault, and he didn't escape until your third year."

"What happened then?" Harry asked.

"Well," Remus said with a small laugh, "after our awkward reunion, Sirius and I did some talking while he was on the run. I didn't always know where he was, but we met occasionally, and that's when I found out about your parents' belongings. We debated whether we should tell you or not, since they wouldn't remember you if they got made into a portrait, but in the end decided to go ahead and surprise you. After the events of your fourth year, we thought a portrait of them to keep you company with the Dursleys would be perfect. You know the rest from there. Sirius died, I didn't think it was right to give the gift as we'd planned, and then when you were granted access to Sirius's vault, I asked Dobby to bring me his imprint."

"That's the small box he told me about!" Harry knew right away.

"Yes, Remus smiled, "although I don't think he knew what was in it. So I gave Sirius's imprint to the artist we'd hired, and the rest is pretty self explanatory. As you can see, you're parents were painted to appear in their early twenties, and I decided to make Sirius match. He updated his imprint several times after escaping from Azkaban, as there wasn't much else he could do locked up in his house. I believe the last time he did it was after Christmas last year, but he might have even done one after that. So while Sirius will look the same age as your parents, he'll have virtually all the memories and personality of the man we knew. I think he'll help tremendously bringing James and Lily up to speed on the times."

Harry nodded, and Remus continued.

"The process of making the painting itself is simple, really. Like I said before, an imprint is like the material you'll find in a pensieve. It's a silvery liquid, and the artist mixes it with pigment to make paint. The backgrounds of portraits are painted and charmed like normal, but the actual figures of your parents and Sirius are painted with their imprints. All I have left to do is cast the activating charm, and they should wake up."

"But then how do some portraits have more then one copy of themselves?" Harry asked.

"Well, once you have the original, it's easy to make copies. The original will always be special though. Copies loose their magic over a period of years, and the subjects start to slow down and need sleep. A few hundred years later, the magic can wear off completely. Then, all you'd have left is a normal muggle painting. I did have a single copy of this painting made. I kept that; I hope you don't mind; and I thought we could use it to communicate when we were separated."

"You mean like Phineas Nigellus does between Grimmauld Place and Dumbledore's office?"

"Yep," Remus nodded, "only I hope your parents and Sirius won't be as surly."

Harry hoped so to, and momentarily he thought of what he'd do with the portrait of the rude ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts. He supposed Dumbledore would want the painting as he had a copy in his office, but Harry was already making other plans.

"So, shall we wake them?" Remus asked.

Harry was very nervous, but quickly agreed. Remus had gone through a lot of trouble in making this painting, and he only hoped it delivered on its promise. Harry nodded for Remus to proceed.

Touching all four corners of the portrait in succession, Remus then swirled his wand in a clockwise motion, and intoned a spell unknown to Harry. A bright white light shot out the end of his wand, hitting the painted forms of James and Lily Potter, and Sirius Black in their heads. As the light faded, Harry saw that the figures slowly started to stir and blinked their eyes. It was Sirius who spoke first.

"Moony, is that you? What on earth are you doing in a portrait?" He probably didn't notice Harry, because he nervously crept to the side and became frozen again. Maybe it would be best, and less emotional, for Remus to inform them of their new situation.

"Hello Padfoot," Remus said sadly. "Lily, Prongs, it's good to see you too." The others had fully awaken now, and Sirius swung his head around to see the others just slightly behind him

"James! Lily! What on earth? But you're dead, you can't be here?" Turning back to Remus, he ordered, "You better start explaining Remus."

"Remember that gift we were working on Harry for? Well, let's just say that it got a new addition before it was completed. I'm sorry to tell you Sirius, but you died last June. It's now Christmas of Harry's sixth year in Hogwarts."

"That sucks!" Sirius admitted. He didn't say more though, because the others had become impatient.

"Remus, is that really you?" James asked. "You look so old! I don't understand what is happening. And why are you in a portrait?"

"I don't think he's the one in a portrait, James," Lily said. "Remus, we're dead, aren't we?"

Remus could only nod. At his side, hidden from the other's sight, Harry continued to cry. He couldn't see his parents, but just hearing their voices was enough to overwhelm him. He briefly wondered why they thought Remus was the one in a portrait, but reasoned that from their point of view, it could very well appear just that.

"I think you should explain from the beginning, Moony," James suggested. "None of this makes much sense to us."

Remus supposed it had to be done, and so he reluctantly agreed. It was a hard thing to do; telling your friends that they had been dead for over fifteen years; but at least he got the chance to talk to them again.

"It's not really my place to tell you everything, so I'll leave the details for later. But I will fill you in on most of what's happened. James and Lily, I'm sorry to say you were both killed by Lord Voldemort on Halloween night, 1981." Lily gasped at the name (something that Harry never thought she'd do for some reason), and James' face turned green.

Remus continued. "But something else happened that night, which I won't go much into. But the good news was that Voldemort ran into some trouble. Most people thought that he died, but what really happened is that he got cast out of his body; in the form of a spirit. It was thirteen years before he was strong enough to attempt to come back, and he was reborn in a new body, but just as evil and powerful as before. Dumbledore and the others reformed the Order of the Phoenix to fight him and his Death Eaters once more, and Sirius, you died in a battle in the Department of Mysteries under the Ministry building in June. Harry had been led there by a false vision, and he thought you had been captured. By then, there was no one at Hogwarts he could trust, so he went to save you himself along with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and some others. It was actually us who ended up saving him, but during the fight your cousin Bellatrix pushed you through the veil in the Death Chamber." James and Lily wouldn't know what veil he was talking about, so he explained it for their benefit. "The veil is an ancient artifact that has mysterious properties. The one thing we know for certain though, is that no one who's ever passed its threshold has returned to our world. The best guess about it, is that it's a conduit to the realm of the dead. Basically Sirius, you died that night without being killed."

Pausing to let them all absorb what he said, Remus continued. "James and Lily, you're imprints were held in Sirius's vault when you died, but he was sent to Azkaban for twelve years, and we hadn't a chance to get them before he escaped. Sirius, Harry just recently gained access to your vault, so I could get to yours. At the last moment, I decided to visit the artist of this painting and have you added. I decided to paint you young again, so you'd fit in with Lily and James. I thought Harry would like it, so I hope none of you mind." He gave a small laugh then. "Don't really have a choice about it though, now that you'll be spending all of eternity together."

Sirius chuckled as well a little, but James and Lily were still too confused about the talk explained to them. And one name kept on popping up that they didn't know.

"Remus," Lily asked, "who's this Harry you keep mentioning? I don't know anyone by that name."

Remus looked to his side where the others couldn't see, and Harry met his gaze, and nodded his head. It was time to make his appearance.

Wiping the tears from his checks the best he could, Harry slowly stepped closer to Remus so that he could see into the frame. "I'm Harry," he told his parents.

Sirius was smiling at just seeing Harry alive and well, but the others reacted in much a different way. James was confused who the raven haired boy with the ponytail was, but Lily seemed to know. She had taken one look at Harry's green eyes and dark features, and placed him immediately.

The shock caused her to grab onto James's frame for support. It took anther moment for her to catch her breath, but still she didn't move her eyes from looking at Harry.

"James," she breathed out, "just look at him! He's our son!"

Remus excused himself shortly after that, and Harry was left with his parents and Sirius to fill in eighteen years of history. Like Remus suggested, Siruis's own memories helped tremendously with that, especially in the earlier years before he was sent to Azkaban, and in the months leading up to his death. It turned out Sirius had updated his imprint once more after the previous Christmas; sometime after Easter. So at most, there were only two or so months he had no recollection of. But figuring in the fact that he hadn't been allowed out of the house, they all agreed that there wasn't a lot he could have missed out on.

Harry's parents demanded to hear about his life from the very beginning, as according to their memories, they weren't even married yet, let alone had a child and been killed. So Sirius told them how things had become grim in their years after graduating Hogwarts, and then Harry took over telling them all about his life. For once, he didn't mind retelling the story of how'd he become the Boy-Who-Lived, and all that had happened afterwards.

James had been saddened that Harry had been left alone with Sirius falsely in prison, and Lily had been horrified to find out he'd been brought to her sister and Vernon Dursley to live. Harry admitted it hadn't been a great childhood, but didn't mind anymore, as it was all in the past and he'd spent enough time already sulking about what wasn't fair in his life.

His Hogwarts' years were more enjoyable to tell about, at least until Voldemort had been reborn. Recounting his first and second years had been fun, as Harry greatly exaggerated details to get his parents to react. He didn't exaggerate as much as Ron sometimes did, but it was still fun to do.

His third year was more hard than fun to tell, because that's when the truth about Wormtail's guilt and Sirius's innocence came to light. James became furious he'd been duped by his former friend Peter like everyone else, and Lily reminded both Harry and Sirius that it hurt them all the more, because to their minds only the day before they were the best of friends, and they hadn't so long to get used to his betrayal.

It took another hour to cover his fourth and fifth years, not pausing to go into detail about anything really. That would all have to wait for another time, as it was getting late, and Harry wanted to at least bring them up to speed as far as Voldemort was concerned, before he retired for the night to his Occlumency exercises. He had two week's of memories to sort through, not to mention the St. Mungor's attack, and the emotional day he'd just had. If Harry wanted to be prepared for Dumbledore the folowing day, he knew he had to make a quick exit.

Which is why with much sorrow he had to say goodnight to his parents and Sirius in their portrait, and leave for bed. Their painting was left in the muggle room in the meantime, as Sirius said they'd be up half the night catching up on old times. Remus had made Sirius promise he wouldn't tell James and Lily anything about Harry; that was Harry's tale to tell, and a bond that should be shared; but Sirius still had plenty of news to tell about the Potters' wedding, their careers after Hogwarts, what had happened to all their old friends, Order business, and many more things. Harry was only a little disappointed that he wouldn't be around for every conversation, but he knew it would be impractical, and that it would take more than one long conversation to tell his parents everything about his life. If he wanted to tell it right, the process would take a long time, and even then the figures in the portrait might never be the people his parents could have been if they weren't killed. Mentally at least, they were only a few years older than Harry himself, and having a child (and a famous and troubled one at that) was a lot for James and Lily to handle on top of their deaths.

It took some time for Harry to clear his mind of external thoughts, but after almost a half hour, he was able. And then the familiar process of filing and identifying thoughts took over, and Harry was in his element. Luckily most of the activities he'd done with Neville the past few weeks were filed easily as not much anything exciting had happened. The battle at the hospital got filed away with his other Death Eater captures, and the recent visit by the Grangers and Weasleys got a whole new subset to fill which Harry decided to dedicate to all future holidays.

The rest got left behind in his outer mind sphere, and Harry smiled as he thought about what Dumbledore's reaction would be if he chose to invade Harry's mind the next day. Wanting to know how Harry had learned to apparate, or where he'd gone to, all Dumbledore might instead see was a detailed recollection of the "Rocky Horror Picture Show." With a smile on his face, Harry fell asleep.

---

It was bright and early the next morning when Harry woke up. No longer sore from his injuries, Harry for the first time since his vacation started felt like a morning workout; to stretch his unused muscles. He only spent a half hour in his gym though, as he still had much to accomplish before he left for Grimmauld Place.

The first thing Harry did; after a shower and getting dressed of course; was to relocate his guardians' portrait into his master suite for the time being. Just as Sirius had claimed, they were all still up (but visibly tired) talking about their childhoods, and it looked like they didn't even notice Harry. He didn't have much time to talk either, so he didn't mind leaving them to occupy themselves.

The main thing Harry needed to do before noon was interrogate his five new prisoners as much as possible, while still leaving enough time left over for a trip to Gringotts in Diagon Alley. The vision Harry had had of Voldemort discussing his Death Eaters with Lucius Malfoy still weighed heavily on his mind, and Harry knew that to keep up appearances that the captured Death Eaters were instead fleeing Voldemort's service, he had to empty their vaults as soon as possible. Usually Harry dedicated hours to each new prisoner under the influence of Veritaserum for his questioning, but that also included anything they might know about fellow Death Eaters, Voldemort's plans, a complete confession of all their crimes, locations of dark artifacts, or anything else that might be useful. Harry didn't have time for all that though, so he spent ten minutes with each new prisoner to just get their vault numbers, security passwords, and any other special instructions that might be needed. He'd have to interrogate them about the rest at a later time.

Neville was sleeping in, so after leaving his friend a note on the kitchen table saying he'd be gone until afternoon (but that Neville needed to try to contact his grandmother about his parents), Harry flooed to The Leaky Cauldron already under the influence of Polyjuice Potion to look like Chris Parkinson. Harry decided to work with him first, because he wasn't wanted by the law, and if Harry's face was spotted during his walk to the bank, he wouldn't be questioned by the many aurors still on patrol.

Harry felt a little rushed as he went about emptying his prisoner's vaults, but all his worry was for naught. Because many local merchants had bank business right after Christmas, cashing in on all the sales they'd made, there were not one, but three bank managers on duty that day, and Harry used the opportunity to alternate between them. As such, he never had to actually leave the bank while drinking new vials of Polyjuice Potion; instead he just flipped up his dark hood, and waited in another line. Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were the final two potions Harry choose to drink, as they were two of the most familiar Death Eaters likely to be spotted. Fortune was with Harry though, as nobody reported seeing anything suspicious, and if the goblins knew of their wanted status, they didn't seem to care. As long as they got paid, Harry was learning that goblins could be trusted with virtually any secret.

Leaving the bank, Harry saw that Tonks was again on duty, but this time he choose to ignore her. He was still in the face of Rodolphus Lestrange, and thought that a known killer walking up and saying "Wotcher Tonks!" would likely get his ass cursed. It was good to see that she'd made it through the attacks unharmed though. In all the excitement of the past few days, Harry had forgotten to ask Remus who had been kissed, and who had been hurt.

It was eleven thirty by the time the last of his Polyjuice Potion wore off, and Harry was able to remove his hood and move about freely. Humorously enough, he'd spent the time wasting away eating a sundae from Florean Fortescue in the guise of a Death Eater. Being much larger and having a different body caused Harry's tastes and stomach capacity to change, and he was intrigued to find out that Rodolphus didn't like the taste of Harry's normal selection of triple berry chocolate crunch much at all; although he was able to put away four whole scoops. When he did change back to his own self, Harry was slightly queasy for a few minutes, until the change was completed, and the ice cream had a chance to settle.

'Note to self,' Harry thought to himself. 'Never use Polyjuice Potion again on a full stomach of junk food!'

---

At about the same time Harry Potter was finishing his ice cream, four esteemed wizards of their individual fields were just sitting down to a meeting. Albus Dumbledore had called them to meet at Grimmauld Place to discuss his upcoming meeting with Harry; who was due to arrive in less than an hour. Knowing that he'd not handled the boy well in the last few months, he'd called his most trusted advisors in for a brief brainstorm. Basically, he needed help, and he needed it bad. In Dumbledore's mind he didn't know anything for sure anymore, except for the single fact that Harry had to be kept safe, even if he didn't want to accept it.

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody was one of Dumbledore's closest friends, who not often gave into the pressure of agreeing with Hogwarts' Headmaster just because of his status. He was also present during the two attempts to capture Harry that Dumbledore had made; both of which had failed. Dumbledore had invited Mad-Eye along because he valued the ex-auror's experience and talents, and respected his opinion.

Severus Snape was another man at the table, although he wasn't looking too happy about being there. He too was a trusted confidant of Dumbledore's, although his advice was always taken with a grain of salt. Like a little red devil sitting upon his shoulder, Dumbledore enjoyed Snape's opinions not because he often agreed with the man, but because Severus could always be relied upon to play devil's advocate when needed. And when the subject had anything to do with Harry Potter, Snape was sure to be as unpleasant and unforgiving as possible. He'd still not forgiven the boy for embarrassing him in front of his Potion's class, not to mention what had gone on in Dumbledore's office. Helping Dumbledore separate his love for Harry, and his need to protect him, had always been the unpleasant job of Snape's. And no other could do it so well, or usually with so much joy. Yes, Snape may seem evil and bigoted, but that was only because Dumbledore had nurtured that behavior in him. Another one of Dumbledore's regretted mistakes; one that was a decade too old to be corrected now.

Remus Lupin was the last man sitting, as he'd also been loyal to the Order during his years as a member, but more importantly because he'd been the closet to Harry recently. Even if he was unwilling (or unable?) to share with the others and his superior what Harry's secrets were, he still provided them with what little information they could gather. Why Remus was unwilling to share more information, and what Harry had held over the man to prevent him from performing his duty as an Order member, Dumbledore didn't know. But at least having Remus present could help shed light on the situation. His mere reactions to suggestions, and the issues he choose to object against, were a great indicator about Harry's location and safety. It may not be Legilimency (which was impossible against a werewolf), but at least it was something.

The only other member Dumbledore would have wished present for her council; but who was unable to come; was his Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. Publicly nothing had changed between the two in the last few weeks, but privately she had lectured his ear off for placing her in such an uncomfortable and unfair position when she attempted to stay Harry from leaving Hogwarts for the holidays. That was another problem that Dumbledore needed to address when he had more time. They'd had their issues before, and he was sure he could patch things over given enough time. He and his Deputy Headmistress couldn't both be gone from Hogwart's at the same time though, so it was a moot point for now. Even if they were on good terms, Dumbledore knew he couldn't leave the castle unsupervised, or worse yet, in the hands of some of his more eccentric staff members like Sybil Trelawney and Hagrid.

"Headmaster, if you insist on calling us together to speak about Potter once again, can we please at least get started? I have far too busy a schedule on my plate to worry about what the brat's gone and done now."

Remus was casting deadly looks at Snape for his impertinence, but Dumbledore merely smiled. He could always count on his caustic Potions Master to cut through the pleasantries and get right to business.

"If you insist Severus, then we may begin,' he smiled. "I've called you here today because as you all already know, I made yet another failed attempt to bring Harry to a safe location yesterday. Unaware to Molly Weasley whom I visited yesterday morning, I located a parcel with Harry's name on it, and spelled his enclosed jumper into a portkey to be activated when he pulled it over his head. Harry had previously warned me against interfering with the Weasley family's visit, and so I obliged by not confronting him at the Burrow. Yet when Harry arrived here yesterday afternoon, he expressed his anger and left in less than a minute. It appears he apparated away, but I was unaware he possessed that skill yet, and it puzzles me how his use of magic has remained undetected by the Ministry. Myself, Alastor, and Severus were all present at the time, so I was wondering Remus if you'd care to shed as much light on the issue as you possibly can.

Remus wanted a detailed description of what Harry had said first, and after Moody filled him in (with some grumbling from Snape), he obliged Dumbledore's wishes.

"Well," Remus began, "Harry and the rest of us were opening our gifts around the tree when his turn to open Molly and Arthur's gift came. As everyone expected there was a jumper wrapped with some other gifts, and when Harry went to put the sweater on, he disappeared. Hermione especially thought something bad had happened, but Ron, Neville, and the twins all thought it was some sort of practical joke. Molly was hysterical of course, but Arthur managed to stop her screaming just in time for Harry's return. We didn't see him arrive; he popped in behind us; but as you said less than a minute had gone by, and he told us of what had happened. Molly and Arthur were particularly angry with you Albus for betraying their trust and invading their home with a ploy to kidnap Harry against his will, and I'm afraid you might be receiving one of her howlers before school reconvenes. Harry dismissed the incident very quickly though, and not a moment later, everyone was back to opening their gifts."

"The Granger girl was present, did you say? Albus, you never told us that," Moody growled.

"I was unaware of it myself, actually," Dumbledore admitted confused. "Elpias has been on patrol duty at the Granger residence since Hermione returned home for the holidays, and reported to me that the family stayed in and never left their home yesterday. I wonder Remus, would you tell us who else was in attendance with Harry yesterday?"

Remus thought about it, and didn't think it would hurt any. "Well, the whole Weasley family minus Percy, Bill, and Charlie were there, as were Hermione and her parents. I and Harry of course, and Neville who's been staying with Harry over the vacation. There were four others present, but I don't think I'm the one to tell who they are. You'll have to ask Harry that yourself." Remus couldn't help but smirk as he could see Dumbledore list all the possibilities on his fingers. Never in a million years would he correctly guess the unlikely paring of Dobby and Winky, and Neville's parents. Remus supposed he could have added another fifteen to the guest list as well, but that might give away too much info if Dumbledore was aware of the missing Death Eaters. So far he hadn't mentioned it at any of the Order meetings; so if he knew, he was keeping that to himself.

"Sounds like a full house," Dumbledore was surprised at the number.

"Of course," Snape sneered. "Potter can't go anywhere without his fan club, now can he?"

"And I bet you had a happy Christmas with just your close family and friends, huh?" Remus shot right back at Snape. "Severus, don't judge Harry harshly just because he has people he cares about, and people who care about him. Jealousy is so unbecoming."

Snape was ready to respond either with a cutting remark or quite possibly a cutting curse, when Dumbledore broke them up. Moody was having a good laugh at the show though, and made no attempt to help.

"Gentleman! This is getting us nowhere. Now Remus, back to Harry. Did he really apparate away from here yesterday? If I knew he was able to do so, I would have appreciated knowing that ahead of time so I could have erected wards preventing his escape."

"It's a good thing you didn't," Moody spoke up.

"And why is that Alastor?"

"If you had managed to trap Potter, he would have hated you even more than he does now. He may be annoyed with the portkey, but at the most it caused him only a minor inconvenience. To imprison him against his will however would have caused far more damage to your credibility."

"Hate is such a strong emotion, Alastor. I doubt that Harry hates me."

"Maybe not hates you," Remus agreed, "but he certainly hates the actions you've been taking lately on his behalf. And let me ask you this. What makes you think even if you had erected anti-apparation wards, Harry couldn't have found another way to leave, or dismantle the wards? With as much as he's told you to leave him alone, why do you insist that you still know better than him, even when you have no idea what Harry's now capable of?"

"Potter's capable of the same things he's always been," Snape sneered. "He gets into trouble, he flaunts his celebrity status, he's disrespectful of Hogwart's staff and rules, and he thinks just because the sun shines out of his arse, that he has the right to do whatever he wants, whenever he chooses!"

A chuckling in the corner caused all four men to turn away from a red-faced Snape, and there they found Harry sitting in a chair, obviously enjoying himself.

"See! No respect for people's privacy either!"

"Oh, shut the hell up Snape," Harry had great fun yelling. "This is my house, and if you don't like me attending a meeting that I called for, then you can leave yourself!"

Remus smiled and Moody outright laughed at the horrified look on Snape's face at being spoken to that way, but Dumbledore again interrupted them all before more insults could be traded.

"That's Professor Snape, Harry. And he was merely surprised, as we all are, of your sudden arrival. I was not expecting you to arrive for another twenty minutes."

"Well," Harry shrugged his shoulders, "I got done eating my ice cream, and saw no sense in wasting time. So I left Diagon Alley early. Hello Remus, been having fun?"

Remus nodded, but Snape was outraged. "Eating ice cream in Diagon Alley! Are you purposely trying to get caught by the Dark Lord's forces you insolent fool?"

"Does it look like I got caught? For your information, I passed right by a dozen aurors; including Tonks; and three Death Eaters that I felt without once being discovered. I'm not a fool Snape, so stop trying to make yourself look better by accusing me of stupidity."

"Harry, that's Professor Snape. I won't warn you again before I start to deduct house points from Gryffindor..."

"You can't," Harry interrupted him, which caused Moody to grin. "As Snape knows very well, I've made myself very familiar with the school's rules this year, and you and any other personal aren't allowed to deduct house points off grounds, when not on a school-sanctioned field trip. Snape's not here in any official capacity, and neither are you. So I can call him Snape, or Snivillius, or anything else I damn well please until we get back to Hogwarts! It's bad enough I have to call the man a Professor when he clearly is anything but, but I won't be forced to in my own home. I only asked to see you Professor, and I never wanted nor invited Snape to join us."

"You know very well that Professor Snape is part of the Order of the Phoenix Harry, and that we use this home as our headquarters. I must insist that you treat him with respect while he's here."

"Oh," Harry chuckled, "and I suppose he's treated me the same way? Do you know, I don't think once in six years he's called me by my proper name. Moody, you've been listening in. How has Snape referred to me since this conversation started?"

"Brat mostly," the grisly ex-auror piped up. "Fool once. He did have a few choice words to say about you though. Something about the sun shining out of your arse."

"Alastor, that's enough." Dumbledore wasn't looking to happy.

"My point's made though," Harry pointed out. "He doesn't treat me with respect, so why should I treat him with any? He's the one who's always been calling me names, since the first day of school, and now that I'm not his student, I don't have to take it anymore. So if you want him to stay, tell him to shut up and keep quiet."

Dumbledore just sighed as Snape looked on in surprise and shock that he had given in to Harry's demands. "Very well Harry. For now, we will agree. Severus, please keep you temper and displacement in check if you wish to remain in attendance. Otherwise, I'll have to ask you to leave. Please continue Harry."

"Continue what? So far, all we've done is a bunch of yelling."

"Well, assuming you we listening to our conversation, you know that we were discussing your sudden disappearance yesterday. Perhaps you would care to enlighten us how you managed to do that."

"How do you think I did it?" Harry asked.

"Looks like you apparated," Moody told him.

Harry nodded, "I did. There were no wards in place to stop me, so I just left. I knew I'd be seeing at least Dumbledore today, so I thought any explanations could last until now."

Harry's Headmaster looked confused. "But how have you managed to learn how to apparate, Harry? You are not licensed to do so, and in fact aren't even eligible for a learner's permit for another year. Furthermore, the Ministry has not detected any misuse of magic from you, and magic use is highly detectable when learning to apparate. Now that I mention it, you also implemented at least one portkey this past summer that was issued outside normal jurisdiction, and didn't come from the Order either. Which leads me to suggest a corrupt Ministry employee has been supplying you with illegal instruction and aid which could land you in a heap of trouble.

"I'm sorry to have to do this Harry, but it's time to confess your actions. I only hope one day you realize how much this pains me. You may not have noticed, but wards have been erected to prevent your escape this time, and I must insist that you travel with me back to Hogwarts for the remainder of your vacation. Remus, you will fetch Harry's belongings and young Neville, and return with them at your convenience."

"Not bloody likely," Remus muttered under his breath. Harry snickered because he was the only one to hear his friend, and he happened to agree.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry continued on as if he hadn't just been ordered away against his wishes, "I told you I'd be coming today to discuss my sale of this house. I gave you two warnings to clear it out, the first one over a month ago. Yet the Fidelius Charm hasn't been lifted. Were you waiting for me?"

Dumbledore sighed. Turning to Moody, Snape, and Remus, he asked if they would mind waiting in another room while he talked to Harry privately. Harry didn't much care if they stayed or left, and outright said so. Snape was the first to leave however, after a pleading look from his boss. Remus left too, not wanting to test his loyalties to either man. And Moody, although he would have liked to stay behind to witness the struggle for power, reluctantly followed the others.

Once they were alone, Dumbledore let his guard drop down, and took his glasses of to rub at his eyes. Harry was surprised, because he couldn't remember a single time when the man had done that before. Harry also had to repeat his question.

"No Harry," Dumbledore informed him as Harry thought he would, "I was not waiting for you. Dissolving the Fidelius Charm protecting Phoenix Headquarters is just not an option right now. Perhaps once you graduate we can consider it then. This location still remains secure, and it's needed to house our operations out of. Too much would be disrupted if we had to relocate to a new base."

"What operations?" Harry sneered. "What have you done all year long, or since Voldemort returned really, that has made any progress against his men besides cleaning up after my mistakes, which were caused in the first place by me not being informed about important information? The Order hasn't done a damn thing all year long except watch and wait, and the ten of you can just as easily do that out of Hogwarts or another building! Besides, you make it sound like I was asking your permission. I didn't ask you if I could sell Grimmauld Place, I told you I was selling it. I actually have to meet a real estate agent in an hour."

"That's not possible Harry," Dumbledore almost sounded angry. "Besides needing at least a week to lift the charm, I would first have to check out the background of whatever real estate agent this was, and even then, you wouldn't be allowed to sell anything. You're not of age yet Harry, and until then at least, you're not allowed to sell anything, even if this house is legally yours."

Harry didn't like that answer one bit. But he had planned for it, and took a letter out of his pocket that he hoped he wouldn't have to send. "Hedwig," he called out. In a burst of her customary colors, Hedwig appeared already perched on an empty chair, and looked to Harry for instruction.

"Hey girl," he greeted her. "Would you deliver these letters for me please. You can wait for a response as well. Thanks Hedwig." With another fire burst, she was gone; messages in tow.

"And what exactly was in that letter Harry, and who is to receive it?"

Harry took great pleasure in answering him. "That was a formal complaint made both to Minister Bones and the Wizengamot; that you've refused to remove an advanced ward from a property that you do not own yourself, nor have permission from the owner to do so on his behalf. And in case you're wondering, I know I'm a minor. That does not preventing me from making deals however. All I need to make my signature legal is a co-sign from my current guardians, who remain much because of you the Dursleys. And as you know, just to keep me away from them, they'd be willing to sign anything I wave in front of their face. Why, I may just have them sign emancipation forms if I have the time. That way I would be of legal age, and wouldn't need to bother them ever again. Don't think that I can't sell this dump if I want to."

"Harry," he asked, "where did things go so wrong with us?"

Harry could only snort in response. Was he serious?

"Really Harry," he continued, "I know I've made my share of mistakes in the past, but I don't believe I was alone in that regard. It's been many a years since I've had to deal so closely with someone your age, and I'm afraid I'm more out of touch than I'd like. But what have I done that has upset you so much? Surely you know that the precautions I've tried to take are for your own good?"

"Do you really want an answer to that question?"

"Yes, please be honest."

"Okay," Harry lamented, "where should I begin. I think it all starts with what you just said actually; honesty. Right from the first day we met, you've been anything but. First you take me to the Dursleys to live against the wishes of my parents, and you don't even bother to check up on me for ten years, which considering how important I'm supposed to be in the wizarding world, is surprising. What's more, is that you knew I was mistreated at the Dursleys, at least somewhat. You say it's for my own good; that the blood protection I got from my aunt was needed; and that you wanted to provide for me a chance to live a life outside the fame and public scrutiny that you knew I'd one day have. Well, you don't get to use that excuse ever again! You knew damn well I didn't have a single happy childhood moment, because when I got my letter to Hogwarts, it was addressed to the Cupboard Under the Bleeding Stairs! I much would have rather dealt with a little popularity than the Dursleys for ten years, so I could care less about whatever blood magic is supposed to be there. Protection charms, which I might add, you still haven't explained to me how they supposedly work.

"Secondly," Harry was really starting to build up a good head of steam here, "is the fact that you kept more secrets when I first came to Hogwarts, that you had no right to. Do you know I had to learn about who my parents were form a photo album, and that every one of my dorm mates knew more about me than I did myself? So excuse me for being pissed when I learned out that not only did I have access to a family vault full of money, objects, talking portraits, and letters, but that you've been keeping tabs on the little spending I have been doing. What gives you the right to oversee anything I do outside of Hogwarts? You've never been my guardian, and that means you must have bribed a goblin or two to be granted that possition."

Dumbledore looked ashamed, but Harry wasn't done yet. "Then when the absolute worst happens, and Voldemort is reborn in a ceremony that I was forced to participate in, not only do you not stand up to the idiot who used to be Minister, but you also have the 'good sense' to send me back to my hell-hole of a home with the Dursleys, where I spent the whole summer suffering from nightmares, and had Dudley tease me about my boyfriend Cedric, because I was shouting out at night. At least muggle schools offer counseling when kids witness violent crimes. But no, you go and send me to the three people who hate me most in the world for comfort.

"And then, when school finally starts back up, you refuse to even look at me, much less explain what's going on, and you force me to spend extra lessons with Snape of all people, who you know's been treating me unfairly ever since I started his classes. I saw you act all surprised when I showed you my memories of his treatment of me in your office, but we both know that was just an act! There's no way he could have carried on like that for over five years without you knowing about it. And even then, nobody even attempts to explain to me what Occlumency is, or why I need to learn it. So basically I blame you and Snape for not learning it in time to save Sirius.

"And then of course the real kicker comes when you portkey me back to your office just minutes after I watch him die, and you have to gall to tell me about your precious prophecy! Couldn't you of at least given me the night to grieve before dumping even more shit on my shoulder to carry? No, of course not, because that would make too much sense. Instead you ship me off to live with the Dursleys, to repeat your mistake all over again. Is it so surprising that I decided to leave, and that I wanted to get ready to face Voldemort, which I now know I'll have to do? Duh! Any sane person would tell you of course not!"

"But what really pisses me off," Harry was almost shouting now, "is that even after a full month on my own; even after I've earned nearly top scores in every one of my subjects this year, and even after I managed to not only hide myself from you, the Order, and Voldemort's men, but defended against your pathetic kidnap attempts too, you're still under the impression that I need or want your help! Do I have the words 'pathetic looser' written on my forehead? Are you so lacking any confidence in me, that my opinions and wants about my own life don't even register in your ears? Tell me Professor, what's the single reason why I should go with you back to Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore knew what he wanted to say, but suddenly it didn't seem like a good enough answer. He said it anyway though, as he couldn't come up with a better one.

"You need to remain protected Harry."

"And what makes you think I'm not?" Harry screamed, throwing his hands into the air. "Do you consider Moody a good guard, who knows a lot about magic?"

"Yes," Dumbledore answered. He had the utmost confidence in Alastor's abilities.

"Well," Harry said, "I've been in his presence at least three times this year without him knowing it, and the twice that I was apparent, I managed to escape without incident. Do you consider Tonks and Snape professional and talented as well?"

"Yes." Dumbledore feared he knew where this was going.

"Well, I've managed to slip past them too. Plus Remus, plus McGonagall, plus Kingsley, plus half the rest of your bloody Order! Not to mention the many times I've slipped through your fingers. How many times have I surprised you this year Professor?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Too many to count."

"That's right," Harry agreed. "And that's only the people on your side who I've managed to avoid. I'm sure you've heard by now about the attack I survived at St. Mungo's two days ago. Does it surprise you to know that just Neville and I managed to fight off five attacking Death Eaters, including both Lestrange brothers? And I think you know I've been elsewhere this year as well; Diagon Alley during Halloween for instance. Remember how sore I was the next morning when we met in your office?"

"You couldn't have," Dumbledore gasped. "There was no sign of you anywhere, and witnesses say you remained at school the whole time."

"Witnesses can be paid to say anything," Harry told a small fib. "You'd be amazed at how just a few chocolate frogs will sway a teenage boy's mind. And I think the golden patronus I cast that night, besides saving all your asses, is proof enough that I was indeed there. I was hiding under my invisibility cloak, and the only person I really had to avoid was Moody and his eye. The rest of you were too busy defending yourself from the Death Eaters' attack to pay much attention to anything else."

"That was your patronus?" Dumbledore asked. "But I thought that Remus said it was his? I admit I was suspicious; but Harry. I've seen your patronus before, and it's neither gold nor powerful enough to destroy an actual dementor."

Not caring to hide the particular gift anymore, Harry snapped his wand out before either managed to take another breath, and raising his wand to the kitchen door, spoke aloud, "Expecto Patronum!"

As expected, the large golden form of Prongs erupted from his wandtip, and took a look around the room before waiting for instructions. Harry simply informed it to run through the door into the next room. Without dementors around, his spell wouldn't last long. It might at least shock Snape in surprise, and give a good laugh to Remus though.

"That's....that's impossible," Dumbledore was speechless. "Harry, do you realize what you've just done?"

"Yes, and I've been capable of that and much more since before school even started. Remember how I wouldn't tell you before when or how I captured Wormtail? Well, it was at Hermione's house, right after she'd gone on vacation. I had a vision of Voldemort telling Wormtail to look for clues in her things about my location, and he went alone that night. I asked Remus to join me in stopping him, because I wanted to clear Sirius's name; something else you haven't been able to do, not that I think you really cared. We caught him all right, but we didn't expect five dementors to be with him as back up. Those were the first dementors I managed to destroy, and Remus and I have known about it ever since."

"But how has the Ministry not detected your magic use, or my..."

"The potion you spiked our pumpkin juice with?" Harry asked. "Yeah, just another of your little manipulations that I found out about. This summer I managed to come up with a counter to both. Surely you've noticed that Neville's been using magic the past few weeks, and hasn't been reported by the Improper use of Magic office? That's because I countered the monitoring spell on him, but couldn't brew the antidote to your potion in time."

Dumbledore had noticed, but chose not to respond. Of all the things he'd been informed of; it was the least surprising. "You do know you've broken several Ministry laws with all this misconduct, don't you, and that you could be brought up on charges?"

"Don't pull that card with me," Harry wasn't intimidated in the least. "I simply learned from the best. With all your illegal portkey manufacturing, dispensing of unregulated potions without parent consent, bribery of Gringotts' bank officials, and being the leader of a vigilante organization that works above the law that the Ministry tries to enforce, you can hardly shake a stick at me! I'm no more or less guilty than you are. And I hardly think that learning to apparate early, or using magic to defend myself from Death Eaters and dementors counts as capital offences."

"Remus wasn't kidding then, was he? When he first visited you and said you were more than capable of looking after yourself?"

"No," Harry replied, "he wasn't. And honestly, at that point I had only told him a fraction of what I'd been up to. There's more he's just learned, and more that even you don't know. You haven't earned that trust from me yet, and if you keep acting as you have been, you never will."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, and Harry actually cracked a smile. "Did you really think sending Professor McGonagall to get me off the train would really work? You weren't really tied up with Ministry business then, were you?"

"I was in a conversation with Minister Bones then Harry," Dumbledore admitted, "but I might have arranged the meeting to take place at a certain time. And while I knew you would be unhappy, I never expected both you and Minerva to draw wands at each other! She still hasn't stopped scolding me for placing her in such a position. She's afraid it will affect her relationship with you once you return to class."

Harry laughed. "Serves you right. I've already written her an apology, and I don't have any problems on my end at least. I think you're the one in the dog house presently."

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed.

The two sat in silence after that, not quite knowing what to say to each other. Harry had come clean about some of his abilities, and Dumbledore had admitted that he was in fact capable of looking out for himself. Once again; like after the press conference condemning Minister Fudge; Dumbledore and Harry had come to an uneasily alliance. Not all of their problems had been addressed or solved, but they were much better off than they had been before. There were only a few more things that needed to be covered. But neither wanted to address the topic of where Harry would be spending the rest of his holidays, or if Grimmauld Place would really be sold.

Thankfully Hedwig saved the day once again, as her brilliant flames interrupted both men from there thoughts. In her talons she held a thick parchment envelope that bore the Ministry seal, so Harry knew she had waited for and received a reply. Harry didn't even look at who the envelope was addressed to as he handed the letter over to his Headmaster.

"It's for you," Harry told him.

Fearing whom had written him a letter via Hedwig, and why, Dumbledore slit the wax seal of the Minister herself with much surprise. Reading the letter aloud, Harry was pleased to see his action had caused the desire reaction.

---

Dear Albus,

I'm sorry to have to inform you, but it's come to the Ministry's attention that you are currently holding wards and spells over a private residence not owned by you, and that you refuse to dispel them at the owner's insistence. As you know, such action is unlawful, and unless you rectify the situation, the Ministry will be forced to send aurors to investigate, possibly with a warrant for your arrest.

If things were kept within the Order, this could be handled internally, but I'm afraid a duplicate copy of the complaint that reached me has also been delivered to the Magical Law Enforcement Ministry, and has already been filed and made public record. The Ministry of Magic can not show favoritism in such petty matters, especially considering that it was Harry Potter who made the complaint, and we know he doesn't take kindly to Ministery cover-ups. I'm sorry that you've been burdened with this, but in accordance with our laws, you must comply immediately.

Sincerely,

Minister of Magic Amelia Bones

P.S. I'm sorry Albus, but my hands are tied. Harry made sure to deliver a copy of the letter to another office, and there's nothing I can do without making HQ's location known.

---

The letter Harry had sent with Hedwig was written before he and Dumbledore had come to their truce, and Harry was only a little remorseful of the Slytherin tactic he had implored to apply pressure on his Headmaster. Regardless though, it had done it's job, and Harry then knew the Fidelius would soon be lifted.

"It seems I have no choice in the matter, Harry. How very sneaky of you to make sure copies of your complaint were widely spread."

"You can hardly blame me, sir," Harry replied. "With the Minister herself under your thumb, I had to look out for my own interests. Plus, if a copy of my complaint falls into Voldemort's hands, all he'll think of it is that I'm continuing to grow apart from you, and I've ordered down the spells that protect the Durselys' house. He won't know to think of Order headquarters."

"It's impossible to just 'take down the wards' surrounding Privet Drive Harry," Dumbledore lectured him. "Even if I wanted to, that magic is beyond even my control."

"I suspected," Harry admitted, but with an evil grin, he added, "but Voldemort doesn't know that, does he? So let him think that I'm going to return there next summer, and plot for a plan that will never have a chance of happening."

"You truly will not return to your relatives, if only for a week or two? Harry, no matter what other security measures you have put in place, I cannot stress enough how powerful and important the blood bond between you and your aunt could be."

Harry waved him off. "Save your breath. If you knew even half of what I've had to suffer at the hands of those people, you wouldn't even ask me that. I don't care how powerful the protection is. There're other ways to secure myself, and being in that environment is detrimental to my sanity. I've changed too much over the past year, and if I was forced to spend anymore time with my relatives, I may not be able to prevent myself from cursing them for real this time. After I got done with them, they'd be begging for a pig's tail!"

Dumbledore chuckled, as he'd been let in on the pig tail episode when Hagrid had privately confessed after his short stint in Azkaban. Dumbledore was actually surprised that Hagrid's pink umbrella held the remnants of his broken wand, although that did explain the odd apparel. Since Hagird was cleared of any charges dating back to his own childhood, Dumbledore had even offered to replace the broken wand, and give his large friend some proper training as well. Hagrid had refused though. He was happy enough with Fang and his pets, he said, and too old to learn new tricks. Dumbledore had been mildly disappointed, but dropped the offer. If that's what Hagrid wanted, he would not intervene. He'd simply gone too long without using magic, and was more comfortable without it now. Sad.

"Alright Harry," Dumbledore finally said. "I will not press you to return to your relatives ever again. I do ask you two favors in return though. One, that you at least keep the possibility in mind that if you should ever need protection or shelter, you can always find sanctuary with the Dursleys. Your family might not be happy to see you, but I'm positive your aunt will never turn you away; no matter how many pig tails you give your cousin."

Harry laughed as he considered just how many that could be, with the size of Dudley's behind.

"Secondly, when you feel the time is right, I'd like to see for myself where you've been hiding. I have no doubt it's already well protected because not even I could find you after months of searching, but I'm sure there's still room for improvement. I'd like to offer my services to improve the wards on your new home however I can, to make you as safe as possible. I must also admit," he added with a chuckle, "that I'm dying of curiosity, as you've become particularly bothersome these past few months. I'd love to see where you now call home, and how you've managed to keep yourself hidden."

Harry had no problem with either request, as long as Dumbledore understood he wouldn't be invited over for tea anytime soon. Keeping Privet Drive as a last resort for a safe haven would be stupid not to consider, and by agreeing to show Dumbledore his home "when the time is right," he could put the visit off for years, or even decades if he chose to.

"Now how about dispelling the Fidelius Charm?" Harry asked. A quick look at his watch told him it was twelve thirty, almost an hour after he'd shown up. His meeting nearby with Shelly Autumn was only a half hour away, and he wanted to get through at least a perfunctory walk-through of the place done before then. Business done for then, Harry stood up and motioned his Headmaster to follow him. He hoped Remus was still around, as he could use his friend's help.

Not surprising either of them, Remus, Snape, and Moody were all still present in the entry hall, waiting for the cloistered meeting to end. Remus was pacing back and forth in anticipation, and Moody had conjured a chair to sit in facing the front door. Snape was a virtual statue, leaning up against the wall, not moving a muscle, while he waited no doubt for his boss to put Harry in his place. Little did he know he was about in for the shock of his life.

"Severus, Alastor. Your services are no longer required here today, and you may return home. Remus, you may stay if you wish at Harry's request, but are also dismissed from further duty today. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some runes to unscribe."

Moody disapparated without a comment (Dumbledore had dropped the wards), and Harry waved Remus over for a private discussion. Snape was a little put out of place however, as he expected the exact opposite to happen. Wanting to see Potter taken back to Hogwarts, preferably by force kicking and screaming, he was confused by Harry and Dumbledore's peaceful and agreeing attitudes.

"Runes to unscribe? What on earth does that mean?"

"It means Severus," Dumbledore calmly explained, "that as Harry mentioned and promised some time ago, he plans to sell number 12 Grimmauld Place, and I have to dispel the Fidelius Charm hiding it's location. I have just been too stubborn and set in my ways to realize he was quiet serious until today. What time do you plan on bringing your real estate agent by Harry?"

"In about a half hour, sir."

"Very well. I shall have your residence freed by then, although I won't have time to dally. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get started." Harry and Remus nodded and continued with their private talk, while Snape was too surprised to say anything. It was only once Dumbledore had disappeared up the stairs that he marched his way over to Harry, hell bent on finding out what had happened in that meeting.

"Potter! What the devil have you done now? Blackmailing the Headmaster to do you bidding with no concern at all for the well being of the Order; the very people who continually save your life? I think you're ego's finally surpassed that of you father!"

"TRAITORS! HALFBLOOD FILTHY BLOOD-TRAITORS! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! YOU DARE BRING YOUR KIND IN HERE? WEREWOLF, I'VE TOLD YOU BEFORE YOU'RE NOT WELCOME HERE! AND YOU, THE SON OF THE MUDBLOOD! GET OUT, YOU'RE DISGRACING MY NOBLE HOME!"

"Bloody Hell," Remus whispered. He and the others had purposely been quiet while waiting so as not to wake up the unpleasant portrait, but Snape's screaming had ruined that effort. Now, Harry didn't know which person he should answer back to first. The next lines Mrs. Black yelled however made that decision for him.

"IT'S NOT BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU KILLED OFF MY LAST SON, EVEN IF HE WAS A WORTHLESS TRAITOR, BUT NOW YOU HAVE TO SULLY MY HOUSE AS WELL. WHY DON'T YOU AND YOUR KIND JUST DIE ALREADY AND TAKE THAT MISERABLE EXCEUSE FOR A PET WITH YOU!"

That was it! Snape could be handled later, but Harry wouldn't let anyone, not even a two dimensional portrait, get away with calling him, Sirius, and Remus such fowl names.

"Shut up you old hag!" Harry screamed. "Don't you get it? No one here follows your ideals, and we don't give a damn what you want or think you deserve. You and your side lost, and we won! Sirius died not because of me, but because your niece killed him. Just like Voldemort killed your other son! And now this house is mine, and I can do with it as I wish! So just shut the bloody hell up from now on, and maybe we can all have some peace and quiet around here!"

Harry totally expected her to yell back, but instead something Harry had mentioned caused her to pause; her lips trembling. It looked like she wanted to ask a question, but wouldn't lower her self to beg answers from someone as "unworthy" as Harry.

"What," he yelled. "If you have something to say, just say it."

"You lying filth," the portrait answered back. "The Dark Lord would never have killed Regulus!"

Harry was pleased that she wasn't screaming anymore, which was why he let the insult pass.

"I'm not filth, and I'm not lying. Voldemort did kill your other son, and he might as well have ended your whole bloodline."

"NO! DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THE WORDS OF A MUDBLOOD?"

"It is true Caliope," Snape answered. Harry had momentarily forgotten that the others were still around, and even Dumbledore was perched on the stairs, enjoying the show. He must have been interrupted by all the yelling and screaming.

"Regulus had some last minute reservations about serving the Dark Lord, and was stupid enough to voice them. As an example that he must not be questioned, the Dark Lord killed him after a particularly long torture session. It was not pleasant," Snape grimaced.

"Liars, you're all nothing but filthy, blood-traitors and liars! My son would never turn his back on our Master like that." Mrs. Black, whose first name Harry guessed was Calipoe, had lost her conviction though. While she still continued to yell and curse, her heart wasn't in it anymore.

"Mrs. Black," Harry called out. She didn't hear him over her own racket though, and Harry had to yell again. "Mrs. Black!"

"What?" She growled out.

"Listen," Harry sighed. "No matter what you believe or how you feel, this is the way things are. This house is now mine to do with as I see fit, and in about ten minutes I'm about to list it with a muggle real estate agent to be sold. So you have one of two choices. As you very well know, we can't take down your portrait because of a permanent sticking charm that we don't know the password to. So you can either tell us the password and we can move you to a new location, or you can stay here on this wall, and spend the rest of eternity with a bunch of muggles and no Kreacher to look after you. It's your choice."

"Ha!" she laughed. "As if I'd believe you'd do that. Besides, there's no way in Azkaban that you'd ever sell my home to a bunch of stinking muggles. THIS IS THE MOST NOBLE AND ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK! DO YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO LET A BUNCH OF MUGGLE SCUM ENTER MY HOME, LET ALONE SET UP SHOP? I THINK NOT! IF YOU THINK I'VE BEEN BAD BEFORE, YOU WORTHLESS BASTARD, YOU HAVEN'T SEEN JUST HOW MUCH I'M CAPABLE OF!"

"You won't have a damn say in the matter," Harry screamed back. "I don't give a rat's arse how you feel about muggles. I may not be able to take you down without your help, but I can certainly put up a strong muggle-repelling charm! And if you think it's fun to scream and carry on like a banshee, then you'll have your chance. With no one to hear you or even notice you, you'll be condemned to watch the lives of countless generations of muggles behind the mask of a spell. To them, this would be nothing but a blank wall. I don't think I could give you a more fitting punishment!"

"You wouldn't," she shuttered at the thought. "You wouldn't dare condemn me to that fate. Not even a blood-traitor like you would condemn me to suffer so terribly?" Her last statement came out as more of a question than a statement, and Harry knew he had won. She was scared of what he had threatened, and wouldn't let him do it.

"If you give me no other choice," Harry continued, "I certainly would. Make no mistake about it. This hasn't been your house for many years, and soon it won't even be mine any longer. It will be sold to muggles, whether you're hanging on this wall or not. However, if you tell me the password to unstick your portrait, I promise to send you to Narcissa Malfoy. She's the last of the Black line, and I'm sure you wouldn't mind some like company."

"Harry," Dumbledore warned, "I'm afraid I can't permit you to do that. If the Malfoys were to gain any know..."

"I thought I told you, you don't get a say in what I do anymore," Harry cut him off. "I know what I'm doing, so just stay out of it."

A day earlier and Dumbledore might not have let the matter drop, but after his conversation with Harry, and the new confidence the boy had exuded, Dumbledore nodded and bit his tongue. As a last resort, he could always try to intercept the portrait before it was delivered. Hopefully though, Harry had another idea in mind, and wasn't being serious. "Very well Harry, I will leave the decision to you."

Snape was huffing in indignation, whispering in the Headmaster's ear, but Harry couldn't care less. He turned his attention back to Mrs. Black, who didn't know what to think.

"The old crack-pot will never allow you to send me to Cissy. I've seen and heard too much of what's been going on here for him to risk it."

"I don't care about what you've seen or heard. As I said, this house will be sold to muggles, so it's not like you can expose the Order's headquarters any longer. Kreacher is still bound to serve Tonks, so he won't be going with you. And I know for a fact that Dumbledore's never held a meeting in the entry hall, so I doubt you know as much critical information as you think you do. So tell me the password to unstick you, and I'll send you on your way to the Malfoys."

Harry could see she was contemplating a decision, and Harry decided to apply some additional pressure. Looking at his watch, he gave a dramatic sigh and said, "Look, I have a meeting in just five minutes. Give me an answer now, or else you'll just have to stay."

Still she refused to say anything, and Harry thought maybe she was going to be stubborn after all.

"Fine," he said, throwing his hands in the air. Turning to Dumbledore he said, "I'll be back soon. I expect the Fidelius Charm to be down by then?"

"It is already down Harry," Dumbledore informed him. "I have dispelled the runes on the upper levels of the house, and that has broken the spell's power. Removing the runes in the basement is merely a formality at this point, one which I will have to continue at another time."

"Thank you," Harry said, truly meaning it. "I'll be back with a guest in about ten minutes." Then he headed for the front door, ready to leave. Just as he grasped the silver snakehead that served as the doorknob, a retched scream brought him back to the foyer.

"WAIT, YOU VILE FILTHY BASTERD! Fine, I'll give you the password for my portrait, if you promise to send me to Cissy today."

"I already said I promise to," Harry reassured her.

With another long pause, Harry learned that the password protecting the permanent sticking charm was "Praestantia," which was Latin for superiority. Harry almost laughed at the Blacks' superciliousness. Still, he knew the password would work, and stepped forward to remove the portrait.

"No you don't," Snape called out, bounding down the stairs. "Potter! I have no idea what you think you might be doing, but I cannot allow you to let Narcissa Malfoy have access to this portrait. I don't care what you think is best! You are just a stupid boy, and have no business meddling in the affairs of men!"

"Severus," Dumbledore warned his Potions Master. "Haven't you learned it is unwise to upset Harry by now? This is his house, and he can do with it and its possessions as he chooses. And as Harry has so adamantly pointed out on numerous occasions, neither you nor I have any official capacity to stop him or order him to obey our wishes."

"You've finally lost it, sir! Too long have you let this brat get away with his flagrant rule-breaking and arrogant attitude. If you will not stop him from giving away the Orders' secrets, then I will!" Snape was standing between Harry and the portrait now, with his back straight and his wand hand twitching. Harry feared he knew what was coming, and a moment later wasn't disappointed.

Snape drew his wand, and pointed it directly to Harry's chest with only a few inches separating the two. Harry wasn't concerned.

"This is you last chance, Snape. This is my house, and I never asked for your presence or your opinion. Move out of the way, or I'll move you myself."

Harry spoke the words with a calm, yet confident voice, and for the barest moment, he thought he saw Snape waiver. Harry gave a slight smirk when he noticed, and that redoubled Snape's convictions.

"And just how do you think you're going to do that Potter? I've got my wand drawn already, and there's no way you can win a duel with me in a fair fight. I've twenty more years experience than you, and as you so kindly pointed out, we're off school grounds, and I don't have to worry about harming a student."

Harry just raised his hands slowly so that they were showing he indeed didn't have his wand drawn. "You're right," he said, "you do have twenty years experience over me. You've also as a Death Eater no doubt have plenty of training in beating up and killing unarmed children." That cutting remark caused Snape to flinch, and Harry seized his opportunity.

Bringing his two hands together, Harry caught Snape's wand in his grip, and twisted it from the other man with ease. Within half a second, it was now trained on its owner, much to his shock.

"But you're forgetting," Harry smirked, "that just like most purebloods, you're overconfident in your abilities, and don't give muggles and their techniques their proper respect. It doesn't take a spell to disarm a person. I warned you. Now leave my house." And then much to everyone's shock, Harry snapped Snape's wand right in front of his face; a small silver spark erupting on the man's bulbous nose.

"Wha...how..." Snape must have been very concerned over his broken wand, for he didn't attack Harry like Harry thought he would. Still, to remain cautious, Harry backed away to a safe distance, waiting to see what would transpire next.

Slowly but surely Snape raised his gaze to Harry, and the most deadly and evil look he'd ever given overcame his saddened expression. Walking very slowly, Snape approached Harry, pushing his robe sleeves up on his sinewy forearms. "That's it Potter! I won't tolerate you behavior anymore. This ends here and now!"

"I said leave my home," Harry repeated. "You're defenseless and I still have my wand. If you don't leave right now, I won't be responsible for your health."

Snape just growled. In the distance Harry could see Dumbledore coming to his senses and start down the staircase, but he was too far away to intercept Snape in time. His calls for Severus to desist likewise went unanswered.

Again though, Harry did what no one else expected him to. He felt he'd beat Snape enough for one day, and wasn't in the mood to further humiliate the man. Plus, he was almost late for his meeting, and that was the whole purpose of his trip that day. So instead of facing Snape like everyone expected, Harry just said one single word.

"Dobby?"

Pop. Now that the Fidelius was broken, Dobby and Winky were able to come to their master's call. Both had been given notice that their expert cleaning skills would be needed that day, so had been eagerly waiting for Harry's summons.

"Dobby, Professor Snape is an unwelcome guest in my home, and he is trying to attack me. Please take him back to Hogwarts castle; the Hospital Wing preferably; and then return here. Then you can help Winky clean the house."

"Professer Snapey is trying to hurt Mr. Harry Potter sir? Then greasy professer is going to pay!"

Snape was wondering what a measly house-elf could do to him, when the small creature grabbed his shin, and the most gut wrenching feeling overtook every part of his body. It wasn't as bad as the Cruciatus, but the pain was much more long-lasting and real then the simulated pain the curse caused. Harry, Remus, and Dumbledore all heard Snape scream in anguish as he popped out of existence, and before the two arrived at Hogwart's Hospital Wing, one of the passengers was unconscious.

Dobby returned a moment later.

"Thank you Dobby," Harry said. "I know you don't like doing that, but it was the only way to get Snape to Hogwarts and away from here quickly. Please start cleaning the house as best you can. For now, just worry about dust and trash. And just like before, put any dark objects in one spot, and anything you think might be useful in another. I'll be back in a bit to help out."

"Dobby and Winky will be getting started right away Mr. Harry Potter sir." Winky said on their behalf.

"Thanks. Oh, and if you come across another house-elf, just ignore him. He's Kreacher; the bad house-elf I talked about. He's bound to serve Tonks, so let's just let her worry about him for now, alright?"

"Mr. Harry Potter sir needs not be worrying about bad house-elf," Dobby said, slightly menacing. "Dobby and Winky know just what to do." Then with another pop, the two disappeared, presumably to start cleaning.

"I see two more secrets you've managed to keep from me Harry," Dumbledore approached him. Remus was chuckling over in a corner, obviously amused at the recent events.

"Well, yes. I hired them both this past summer, as you might have guessed. Since then we've become friends as well, and I've found them both to be very loyal friends and workers."

"I should have guessed," Dumbledore smiled. "Dobby always has had a soft spot in his heart for you, and I've known Winky much prefers the work of a traditional house-elf to one at Hogwarts. It's surprising to see her in clothes though. You must tell me how you managed that one day. But how did Dobby take Professor Snape to Hogwarts, and why to the Hospital Wing of all places?"

"You heard the scream, right?" Harry continued his answer, "House-elves are capable of taking passengers along with them when they pop; much like forced apparition, but it is very painful for a wizard or witch. Something about wizarding magic conflicting with house-elf magic, and the pain is a manifestation of that conflict. The one other time I've seen it, the passenger passed out from the pain as he arrived. After his trip, Snape will no doubt need a few healing draughts.

Dumbledore lost his smile as he listened to Harry's explanation. "Must you have added injury to insult Harry? After breaking his wand, Professor Snape was hardly in a position to be a threat. You do know, don't you, that with the single exception of snapping a wand upon a student's expulsion, that snapping a wizard's wand is the most insulting action one could possible make?"

"I know," Harry nodded. "But after six years of insults from him, I don't much care about his pride. I asked him to leave, and I gave him plenty of warning; as did you. If he's too stubborn to listen, that's his own damn fault. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a portrait to see about."

Turning back to Mrs. Black, Harry waved his wand and intoned the counter spell to the permanent sticking charm; adding the unlocking password at the end of the incantation. As the charm had been left undisturbed for over a decade, Harry could actually feel the magic of his counter charm battling with that of the portrait's. Finally though logic and magic won out, and the portrait tipped to one side before falling away from the wall completely. Harry just managed to catch it before it fell to the ground, and noticed with vague shock how white the wall was behind where the portrait had hung.

"Now you send me to me niece right this instance," Mrs. Black demanded. "You promised, and I gave you the password."

"I may have promised," Harry answered back, "but we never shook on it." As Mrs. Black looked up at him from her position between his hands, for the first time she noticed the satisfactory glint in his eyes.

"NO! YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD LIAR! I DEMAND YOU SEND ME AWAY AT ONCE, OR PUT ME BACK IN MY RIGHTFUL PLACE! KREACHER! KREACHER, WHERE ARE YOU? YOU'RE MISTRESS NEEDS YOU!"

Much to her dismay, Kreacher didn't come. The portrait of Sirius's mother was a bit shocked by that, and turned to Harry again.

"What do you do to him you despicable boy? Where is my Kreacher?"

"I have no idea where Kreacher is," Harry answered honestly, "and I don't much care. He must have known I wouldn't be too happy to see him, and decided to stay away from me. In fact, I've been seriously contemplating mounting his head on a wall the past few days; I still might. You've got your own problems to worry about right now."

"You promised..." She lamely whined.

"And as I said, we didn't shake on that promise."

"What the hell does that mean!" She yelled back.

"It's a muggle custom; that when a verbal deal is made between two people, they shake hands to seal their pact."

"HOW IN MERLIN'S NAME AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT?" She screamed. "I'M A PORTRAIT; I DON'T HAVE HANDS TO SHAKE WITH!"

"Well, I'm muggle raised, and you should have thought of that before giving me the password, you stupid bitch!"

Mrs. Black looked shocked at Harry's sudden use of vulgarity, but not even that prepared her for what happened next.

"If portraits' have an afterlife, I hope yours is filled with screaming banshees."

Then, just as cold and callously as Harry had snapped Snape's wand, he brought his hands down to either side, kicking his knee through the center of the canvas. With an almighty shriek the magic of Caliope Black's one and only portrait gave a final protest, and then bled all over the floor. With the canvas torn and the frame smashed to pieces, Mrs. Black was no more.

Harry was breathing hard as he watched the torn parts of the canvas still, and it was a whole minute later that he cast the broken frame in a corner, hopefully to be burnt.

"I was worried you were truly going to send Mrs. Black to the Malfoys," Dumbledore piped up after awhile, sounding somber, "and I'm glad to see you had other plans. But again Harry, did you have to act so maliciously to an addled old woman?"

"That wasn't a woman," Harry responded. "That was just a portrait; canvas and paint. The woman died a long time ago, and that monster should have followed her the moment you came into possession of this house. I don't believe for a moment that you couldn't overcome the spells of a simple permanent sticking charm, so I know this was just another of your manipulations. Probably to keep decent people away no doubt, so that you'd always have control over what happened here. In destroying that painting, I was only doing what countless others, her son included, wanted to do themselves. Don't even try to make me feel guilty! It wasn't as if I was going to hand her picture over my bed. What else could have possibly been done?"

"Nothing, Harry," Remus commented from his place. "And I think Sirius would have had a blast watching you trick his mother like that. Don't feel bad about it for one single second.

"Very well Harry," Dumbeldore gave his goodbye, "I'll bother you no more about it, and see you when you return to Hogwarts. But please, give Professor Snape as much room as you can upon your return, and I'll ask him to do the same. Although you no longer take his class, you must still learn to live together in the castle without constantly being at each other's throats."

"I've never started a single discussion with him, so if you keep Snape on a leash, I'll have no problem."

Dumbledore tutted at Harry's choice of words, but left after saying goodbye to Remus as well. Harry likewise shared a few words with his friend (he wanted Remus to help Dobby and Winky if he was willing, and see if the Black family tapestry would come down with the same password), and he left to meet Shelly Autumn a moment later.

When Harry apparated two miles away, his watch informed him that he was ten minutes late already for his appointment. He hoped the agent would still be there, and sure enough, when Harry rounded the corner out of an empty alley, she was patiently sitting on a park bench.

"Mrs. Autumn?" Harry approached her.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter! So glad to finally meet you. And please, call me Shelly."

"Nice to meet you too," Harry said warmly. "And it's Harry, as well. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Not a problem," she waved his excuse off with a hand. "People are always running late in this business, and I daresay for a meeting with Harry Potter, I would have camped out overnight."

Harry sincerely hoped she was kidding, but didn't comment about it.

"The house is less than two miles from here, and I thought we might walk. Along the way I can explain to you some of the specifics about what I want done."

"Sounds good to me," she agreed. "I could use to stretch my legs. I'm just glad I brought my winter coat. It's been getting very cold lately."

She was right too. The temperature was still below freezing, and a light snow was falling around them. Harry was only wearing pants, a jumper and shirt, and a medium jacket, but he had placed a warming charm around him upon arriving in the alleyway. He offered the same to Shelly, and she graciously accepted. Being a squib she wasn't able to cast one herself, but she sure appreciated magic when she got the chance.

While the two walked the short distance, Harry briefly explained the history of the house, as far as he knew it, and why they weren't able to meet there personally. Shelly wasn't familiar with much advanced magics, but after a quick explanation, understood the basics of the Fidelius Charm. It was good Harry had taken care of that, she said, because her wizard subcontractors no doubt wouldn't have been able to.

In kind, Shelly explained to Harry the information she had researched about the general neighborhood. A hundred years ago it had been a prominent place to live; accounting for the spacious brownstones. During the second World War however the area suffered massive aerial attacks, and had been left in ruin for years. When the war was over, the buildings were repaired or replaced as best they could be, but by then all the wealthy families had already moved out. Subsequently each brownstone was divided up into smaller, more affordable flats. Over the years the area continued to suffer, until in the last ten it had reached an all time low.

But a new legislation act two years previous designated the buildings historical landmarks, and called for their refurbishment in an effort to clean up crime in the area. With no doubt the only undivided brownstone in the area; a neighborhood that was experiencing prosperous times once again; Shelly informed Harry that she had high confidence she's be able to find a suitable buyer in no time at all, and he might stand to make a fair profit. Harry told her he wasn't much interested in the money, as long as the home went for a fair price. Since he had inherited the property himself, and never spent a knut, even the smallest sum would be pure profit for him.

When they finally made it back to number twelve Grimmauld Place, Harry enjoyed being able to look at the outside of the building in comparison to the others without having to rush inside under the cover of night. Compared to number thirteen and eleven, it was true that number twelve did seem more whole and as the designers originally intended. Briefly Harry wondered how and why the Black ancestors had decided to purchase one of the muggle made homes with so many close neighbors, but didn't give it much thought. The Blacks had been there for over a hundred years, and even Mrs. Black wasn't that old when she had died. Maybe Phineas Nigellus could tell him?

Once back inside the foyer, Harry relished the relative quiet with Mrs. Black's removal. The broken portrait's pieces that he'd cast in a corner were gone, and once again Harry was amazed at the speed and thoroughness that Dobby and Winky were able to clean.

"Well, let's start with a general walkthrough, shall we?" Shelly asked.

"Good idea," Harry answered. "You know, I haven't even seen every single room in the house yet. I've only been in about half."

So with a plan in hand, the two descended to the bottommost levels to begin their work. As Harry and Shelly walked from room to room, they were pleasantly surprised that not only were the rooms free of dust, dirt, and cobwebs, but all the broken down furnishings had been removed as well. All of the wood floors had been given a nice shine, and the walls looked still wet from a fresh coat of paint.

In the kitchen the cabinets and pantry were bare, and all the cooking utensils Mrs. Weasley had purchased on behalf of the order were missing as well. The large wide table and chairs remained, but all signs of life and personal touches had been removed.

All throughout the lower floors, every room was the same. The drawing room was devoid of the thread bare green sofas that once belonged there, and only the newer furniture the Order installed remained behind.

"Mr. Potter, sorry, Harry. I was led to believe that this home would be needing a lot of work and maintenance.

"Up until twenty minutes ago, it did," Harry said, just as surprised. "I left a friend and two house-elves behind to tidy up some, but I never imagined they'd get so much accomplished. Believe me, this place looked nowhere near as good when I left to meet you."

"Perhaps you could arrange an introduction then?" Shelly suggested. "If I could meet your helpers, and they could give a report on their progress with the house, then we'd better comprehend where we stand."

Harry had no complaints, and at their call, Dobby and Winky appeared in a puff of smoke.

"Yes, Mr. Harry Potter sir? You called for Dobby and Winky?"

"Er, yes Dobby. I was just wondering how much you've done so far with the cleaning? And where's Remus by the way?"

"Mr. Reemy has just left to take Buckybeaky back to Hogwarts," Dobby informed him. "Mr. Reemy was getting in the way of Dobby and Winky's cleaning, but please don't be telling him that sir. Buckybeaky needing to be released anyways sir, so Dobby and Winky could properly clean all of the house. Is Mr. Harry Potter sir pleased so far?"

"Ah, yeah. Wow! It's amazing really. I never thought you could get so much done so fast. This place looks great!"

Dobby was beaming with pride, and Winky was looking a little apprehensively at the strange woman.

"Oh; sorry about my bad manners. Dobby and Winky, this is Shelly Autumn, who'll be selling the house for me. Shelly, this is Dobby and Winky, the two best house-elves a wizard could ask for. Winky, we were just wondering what you've gotten done so far, so Shelly will know what extra work she'll have to subcontract out. Could you tell us please what you've done so far?"

Winky nodded, and was a little slow to start. But once she did begin to talk, it was obvious she was just as proud of her work as Dobby was; if only a little less enthusiastic.

"Yes Mr. Harry Potter sir. Dobby and Winky started cleaning the house from the ground floor upsy, like Mr. Reemy said to. Dobby banished all broken, old, and dirty things, while Winky mopped the floors and cleaned the walls. Dobby was on look-out for anything special to put in one of Mr. Harry Potter's piles, but Mr. Reemy said to get rid of most everything else. All the ground floors have been cleaned, and Dobby and Winky only have three bedrooms and the attic left to do. Dobby has made two piles in the library as Mr. Harry Potter sir has asked. Winky has also, at Mr. Reemy's suggestion, changed all snake doorknobs and light fixtures into normal shapes. Dobby be wanting to make the new door knocker look like Dobby's face sir, but Winky managed to stop Dobby in time.

Harry laughed as he could only imagine a brass knocker sculpted to look like Dobby's head. "Thank you Winky; that would have been very odd. And thanks for such wonderful work." Turning to Shelly, Harry asked her if she had anymore questions. She did.

"Winky, did you disable or detect any type of charms or wards throughout the house while you cleaned?"

"No Missus," Winky answered. "Winky and Dobby did not disable any wizarding magic, but Winky did detect strange feelings around the windows while Winky was cleaning them. Winky knows the feeling well, and thinks they are muggle repelling spells.

"Probably," Shelly agreed. "In old pureblood homes like this, they usually cast as many charms and wards as the Ministry would let them get away with. No doubt some maintenance prevention spells on the outside of the building as well to prevent weather damage, and perhaps circulation charms to get the air moving in this huge home. Pretty standard really, and I might not even bother taking them down. I can assure you I'll have a team of specialists give this place a close looking-over though, to make sure they don't miss a thing." On their walk over, Harry had informed her that at one point the house had belonged to a very prominent dark family, who weren't beyond hurting muggles in their spare time. He made sure she understood he wanted the house made perfectly safe before muggles could be shown inside.

"Thank you Dobby and Winky," Harry told them. "You can start on those last rooms now." They smiled back at him, and with another pop, were gone a second later.

"So, what do you think?" Harry asked.

"Well," she said, "from the looks of things, I don't think you have much to be worried about. Every room is spotless and nearly empty, and I'm sure that Dumbledore lifted most of the harmful and dangerous spells when he moved you and your friends in here, so I doubt my spell team will have much work. Most of the preparation will be wiring the house to work off electricity and muggle utilities, and installing appliances throughout the house."

"Oh yeah, I have some of those. I'll have Dobby deliver them before I leave, but I've got four sets of top of the line appliances. Refrigerators, stove tops, ovens, washers, driers; water heaters; you name it. Please install them where you want, and sell the rest separately. You can keep the money yourself as a bonus."

"Really, top of the line you say? A complete set of appliances would go for over 10,000 pounds!"

"I know," Harry grinned. "Like I said, consider it your bonus. I've no need of them anyway. I actually gave a complete set away as a Christmas gift because I know a guy who loves to take apart anything muggle. The cost really doesn't bother me."

"Okay," Shelly whistled, "I won't complain with that! Anyway, like I was saying, most of the work will be converting the house to work on muggle utilities. There's no sense planning to sell the house furnished, as it's mostly bare now, so we'll just go like this. Any furniture that does stay behind I'll just include in the price as an added incentive. But unless my spell team turns up something completely unexpected, I should be able to start showing the home by the middle of next month. And with a house this size, in such good condition, I'd say we'll have no problem with a base asking price of at least a million pounds. You stand to make a good sized fortune here Harry."

"A million, really?" Harry had no idea.

"At least, maybe as much as one and a half. Harry, don't you realize how large this home is? With four floors plus a basement and cellar, nearly a dozen bedrooms, a library, a drawing room, professional grade appliances, and an attic large enough for serious storage, this house is quite the find."

"Er, I guess so," Harry agreed. "I guess being at Hogwarts for so long has just skewed my perception lately." Well that, and his opulent own Hideaway. Shelly didn't know Harry had made such a pad though.

"If there's nothing else, I'd like to look around closer, and make some notes. You might be bored, so don't feel you have to accompany me. I'll also need you to sign a consent form before you leave, and I'll leave another form for your guardians to co-sign. After that, all I'll need is the key to the front door, and we'll be set to go."

"Okay," Harry replied. "I don't know if a key to the front door even exists, but I can go transfigure one now. I'll sign the consent form when I give it to you. I can also have my guardians' signature by the end of the holidays. Will that be soon enough for you to show the place in mid-January?"

"Yup, just as long as I have it before we begin any construction. My teams can do the spell walk-through though. As they use magic to wire and plumb the house, construction doesn't take nearly as long as you think."

"Alright. I'll leave you to your notes then. I'll be in the library if you need me, which is on the third floor. Or you can just call for Winky or Dobby for assistance. See you later."

"So long," Shelly said, but she wasn't facing him. Already her face was in a notebook, furiously taking notes.

Crafting a key to the front door didn't take long, as Harry had to transfigure the lock into a simple mechanism as to do it. Shelly explained her contracted workers would be installing high grade muggle locks during construction, and the temporary key was only to allow her initial access.

In the library, Harry found what he was looking for. The two small piles on the floor that Dobby had collected weren't as intimidating as the ones he'd made from the vaults, and already Harry could see a few objects he could identify and some that he might have use for.

Something else he noticed, and was very pleased with, were the many books adorning the shelves of the Black family library. When Harry had stayed at Grimmauld Place two summers ago and at Christmas, he and his friends had been restricted access of the library because of the dangerous nature of most of the books. Hermione had been most displeased, and only because she was kept busy with housework did she let the matter drop. Now though Harry counted at least a thousand books; a substantial personal compilation; and couldn't wait to sort through the addition to his own collection.

"Mr. Harry Potter sir?" Dobby spoke up from behind him. Harry jumped slightly in surprise, and took a deep breath when he realized it was just his small friend, and not a dark object acting up to kill him.

"You scared me Dobby! What can I do for you?"

"Winky has found most unusual object in her cleaning, and Winky and Dobby are not sure what it is or what to do with it. It is looking to be dangerous, but it too big to be moved in pile. It is also being very shiny however, and Dobby thinks Winky is liking it very much because so."

Harry couldn't imagine what in the world Dobby and Winky could come across in Sirius's home that they wouldn't recognize, as they had spent much more time in wizarding homes than he had. Still, he was just as curious as the elves were, and followed Dobby to what used to be Sirius' room. Again, the room was gutted; all of Sirius's personal things already transferred to his vault before Harry inherited it.

"By the way Dobby, where is Kreacher hiding out. I still don't know what to do about him, and I'm hoping I can ask Tonks to send him to Hogwarts at least temporarily. Have you seen him?"

"Mr. Harry Potter sir will not be having to worry about nasty bad house-elf again, sir. Kreacher is gone, and Kreacher will not be causing more trouble."

"Gone?" Harry got real worried. Had Dobby kicked him out of the house much as Sirius had ordered last year, and Kreacher was free to roam? Oh, Dumbledore wouldn't like that at all. "Dobby, what do you mean gone?"

"When Master Harry Potter sir told Dobby and Winky about nasty Kreacher, Dobby knew what needed to be do. Kreacher was a bad elf who betrayed his master, and Kreacher was punished the house-elf way. Kreacher will not be heard from again!"

Harry was surprised with the amount of anger in Dobby voice, and that led him naturally to suspect the worst. Had Dobby done what Harry himself dreamed on, and mounted his head on the wall? He had to know.

"Dobby," Harry asked carefully, "did you kill Kreacher?" He was almost scared to hear an answer.

"It is the house-elf way sir," Dobby nodded without hesitation. "Dobby realized that nasty Kreacher was serving Missus Tonksy, so Dobby and Winky have pledged their first born kiddie elf to replace in her service. Does Mr. Harry Potter sir think that Missus Tonksy will be satisfied at Dobby and Winky's offer?"

Harry thought she'd be appalled, but didn't say so. So this was how house-elves ented into slavery all those years ago? The book he had read had been sketchy at best on the details, and much like the tales about white phoenixes, had put forth more than one possibility.

"I don't know, Dobby," Harry answered honestly. "To tell you the truth, Tonks never really wanted Kreacher in the first place; she sorta just got stuck with him. So I'd be willing to bet she wouldn't want to take your kidde elf, and would be happy enough just to be rid of Kreacher. I'll ask her next time I see her, alright, and let you know."

That idea was fine with Dobby, and surprising Harry, didn't try to force his kid on Tonks repeatedly. Either it was just another of his strange quirks, or wizards must normally never refuse offers like that and he didn't know what to do, because Harry couldn't see another option with the world's views on house-elves as he knew them.

It was only a few more steps to the door, and as if he never just admitted to killing one of his kind earlier in the day, Dobby went back to the matter at hand.

"Winky was cleaning out spare closet," Dobby explained, "when Winky noticed an empty space behind a loose wall. Winky asked Dobby to help be moving the wall, and inside Winky and Dobby found a secret room magically expanded and warded. Lots of shiny and dirty things inside the room, and Dobby has never seen them before, so Winky thought it best to come get Mr. Harry Potter sir."

A secret warded room in Sirius' closet? Now Harry was really interested. And what could have filled a whole room that the elves didn't recognize? What the room turned out to be however, was highly recognizable to Harry. While not seeing one at the Dursleys (their's was too clean and orderly to be a working one), Harry immediately took in the greasy, oily look of a well used garage will a multitude of tools. Wrenches, hammers, screwdrivers; all were strewn about, and only half of them Harry recognized. What was displayed in the center of the room however; clearly the shiny object Winky had been fascinated with; couldn't be mistaken.

It was a motorcycle, and a beautiful one at that. Colored a deep brick red not unlike Gryfindor's own house color, the bike was accented with polished chromel and supple black leather accents. It had a decidedly odd fashioned look to it even though it was obviously new, and unlike gaudy stretched choppers Harry'd seen on the telly, or cheap oriental racers that Dudley affectionately called "rice burners," this bike was a true combination of power, grace, and style.

"Is it dangerous Mr. Harry Potter sir?" Winky asked from where she was cowering behind his leg.

"Only if you're not wearing a helmet, Winky," Harry joked.

Was this Sirius's old motorbike that he'd leant Hagrid all those years ago? No, it couldn't be. This one was way too new looking and modern to be so old, and hadn't Hagrid once said that the bike had rusted and gone feral many years ago, and escaped into the Forbidden Forrest? Yes, Harry was sure he had, because Ron had made a joke about the motorbike and his dad's Ford Anglia meeting and having babies.

"It's alright Winky, Dobby. It's just a motorbike. It's like a muggle car, only made for one person. Sorta like a broomstick for wizards instead of a magic carpet. Sirius used to have one I know, but that's long since rusted and broken down. I guess he was building another one here though in his spare time. Locked up in this house, Merlin knows he had plenty of it."

Dobby fidgeted with the greasy tools just in his reach, so close yet not cleaned or organized, and Winky came out from behind Harry to pet the bike's exhaust. Harry held in a small laugh as she admired the chrome. It was so shiny and spotless, he supposed the wizarding world didn't have anything like it.

"Dobby, I've got an idea. Can you pop into my bedroom real quick back at the Hideaway and bring my new portrait here? Please be very careful though. I don't want anything to happen to it."

Dobby looked very pleased with Harry placing such trust in him, and nodded before popping away. Moments later he returned with the large portrait teetering gingerly in his small hands.

"Hello," James called out. "Who's there? Someone speak up! I can't see a bloody thing but the ceiling!"

Harry laughed as he took the portrait from a nervous Dobby, and propped it up on a large tool chest.

"Sorry Dad; just me. I need to talk to Sirius real quick. Can you go get him?" Harry would have called for his godfather himself, but in the distance he could see Padfoot the dog playing in the small stream, biting at small fish that swam by. James agreed, and it took a moment for him to walk into the background of the portrait, and call his friend away from his games. Lily had also come out of the small cottage, and joined the two men as they walked back within speaking distance of Harry.

"Harry! Good to see you! You missed a hell of an interesting conversation last night. I hope you don't mind, but I couldn't wait to tell your dad about how amazing you are at Quidditch. He was disappointed you weren't a chaser until I told him how brilliant a seeker you are, and that you have a nearly flawless record. I didn't tell him any game details though, and I still don't know about those that you've played this year."

"That's alright Sirius," Harry smiled back. "I'm playing my best yet this year anyway, so the past games don't seem so great. But that can wait for later. I'm at Grimmauld Place, and Winky found something I was hoping you could help identify."

Sirius's mood changed drastically as he heard where they now were, and everyone picked up on it. Lily and James had been informed that Sirius' childhood home had been given over to the Order to use, and now Harry owned it.

"Don't worry Sirius, I'm selling the place." That cheered him right up. "But in cleaning everything, Winky found this." Then Harry pointed over his shoulder, and moved out of the way so the others could see.

"My Indian!" Sirius yelled. "Wow! I must have finished it before I died. It looks great. Harry, could you move us a bit closer?"

Harry did, and allowed Sirius and James to converse in excited tones for a few moments before he tried interrupting them with a loud cough. Neither man noticed.

"Don't even try," his mum told him. "Sirius has always been obsessed with muggle motorcycles, and unfortunately it was a trait he managed to pass onto your father while they were in school together. Even Remus and Peter became slightly interested, although not as much. Sirius won't even hear you until he's finished explaining everything about the bike to James."

"Well," Harry said, "Since it's too late to paint a bike into your portrait, and the motorcycle is here with me in the real world, maybe I should hear about it too?"

Lily muttered something under her breath about "not another one," but after smacking her boyfriend and Sirius on the back of their heads, managed to turn their attention back to Harry.

"Sorry, but I really need to know what to do with this. I've got to clear the place out, otherwise it might get sold with the house. So Sirius, what can you tell me about this bike?"

"Well Harry," Sirius instructed him eagerly, "as I was just telling James here, that bike before you is no other that a genuine Indian Chief motorcycle. Indians are an American company that made great bikes in the early part of the century, but stopped shortly after World War Two. The Chief is a model type. I've always thought they were the coolest looking bikes around, but they were always hard to find. But just a few years ago the Indian company started back up, and trapped in this house with nothing else to do, I decided to build me another bike. Dung managed to smuggle in most of the equipment and tools I needed, and I waited nearly three months for the bike to be shipped from America itself. The hard part was portkeying it in past Dumbledore, and setting up the warding in this room so I wouldn't be detected, but the magical modifications I made were all pretty easy. Remember my old bike, James? I managed to get that one flying and operation just before you died. So having all the know-how already, all I had to do was wait for parts."

"You mean this bike can fly?" Harry asked, astonished. Of course he knew it as possible, as it had been done before, but now that the bike was essentially his, Harry was liking the idea all the more.

"Not only can it fly," Sirius admitted proudly, "but it can do a lot more if I finished it as planned. See the five colored switches on the dash Harry?"

Harry did, and nodded for Sirius to continue.

"Well, the green switch causes the Indian to fly, just like my old bike. You steer just like normal, except that you can also push the handlebars forward to dive, and pull them towards you to climb. It doesn't move nearly as fast as that Firebolt of yours Harry, but it can still fly at a respectable pace."

Harry hadn't told Sirius about his new broom yet, but decided now wasn't the time. Sirius moved on.

"The blue switch makes the Indian and its rider invisible. Kind of a necessity when you're riding in populated areas. It works better than a disillusionment spell, and it also makes the bike perfectly silent. No sound from the motor or the exhaust, although the rider can still be heard if he talks.

"Now the black switch is strictly for when you're parking the bike in a muggle area, and don't want to get ticketed or noticed. It's a high level muggle repellant charm, just like the one that surrounds Hogwart's grounds. Any muggle won't see the bike with the switch activated, and if they get within two feet, they'll suddenly have the overbearing urge to kiss the closest Bobby they can find. You can use it to get out of a ticket if you get pulled over as well, and I think watching the Bobby try to kiss himself would be rather fun"

Harry laughed. It was just like Sirius and his prank-like ways to make innocent muggles snog policemen unaware, or better yet, to snog themselves.

"So with that switch activated, you never have to worry about the Indian getting impounded or stolen. The last switches are the red and yellow ones, and to be used only in an emergency. Since it's hard to handle a wand while riding a bike, I built in a ready to use stunning spell that will surround the bike up to five meters. It packs quite a wallop, so be careful. Of course the rider is immune as long as he's sitting on the seat, but anyone else nearby will be stunned for at least half a day. It can be real dangerous if you were to stun someone riding a broom mid-air, but that's kinda the reason why I made it. In case of an attack, you could stun whoever was bothering you, and get away.

"Likewise," he continued, "the yellow button creates a shield around the bike, which is much stronger than a normal Protego spell. It can't protect against Unforgivables, but nearly everything else it should manage to stop cold, or at least deflect. Don't engage the shield when friends are nearby though, because it protects from magical and physical attacks all the same. Walking into the shield is like walking into a brick wall, so be very careful one again. The only drawback is that I never figured out how to activate both the shield and the stunning spell at the same time. So it's one or the other I'm afraid, unless I discovered something new the last months of my life.

Harry was impressed with the bike's features, and if he was honest with himself, a little surprised that Sirius had done so many powerful modifications. The type of spells he was talking about were hard to cast with even a wand, and Harry was supposed to assume the Indian could create them with no additional magic needed? Apparently Lily had the same thoughts.

"How's that possible Sirius? The flying and invisibility charms don't surprise me, but the power required to repeal muggles, or create the shield and stunning spells you described can't be harnessed in an object. Even if it were possible, the spells would dissipate eventually, and Harry doesn't have the expertise to repower the bike."

"That's where you're wrong." Sirius said, grinning.

"I have the expertise?" Harry asked, clearly confused. He didn't know a damn thing about bikes except what they looked like. Yes, this was a very impressive model, but any fool could see that.

"No, that's not what I mean. Although I'm sure with enough training and time you could learn it Harry, I was talking about the bike."

Sirius's comment about time and training made Harry grin, as he still hadn't shared his time travels with the portrait's occupants, and he planned to before his return trip to Hogwarts.

"Harry," instructed Sirius, "open the gas valve on the tank. It unscrews clockwise."

Harry did what he was told, and was surprised when he saw not the gaping cavity he expected, but a small circle he didn't.

"Now Harry, press your thumb in the circle, and repeat the phrase, 'Padfoot rides again.' I hope I haven't keyed the password to a specific signature yet, so the password alone should release the clamp on the underside of the gas tank."

Harry followed the instructions, grinning as he repeated the colorful password, and heard a faint click from underneath the metal container.

"Now Harry," Sirius explained, very slowly, "gently lift the tank's top up on its hinges, but whatever you do, don't touch a thing you find inside. It could be dangerous for both you and the bike.

Harry complied, greatly interested in what he would find. Wasn't their normally gas inside a gas tank? Harry supposed if it was so important not to disturb, the bulk of Sirius's magical modifications must be housed in it instead. So what powered the engine then? He found out a moment later.

"Sirius, you crazy bastard," James called out once he saw inside the tank, clearly impressed. "I know we always talked about something like this, but I never though you'd have the balls to go ahead and do it!"

"James," Lily scolded. "Watch your language in front of Harry! I know you just met him, but he's your son! And Sirius; you really are a crazy bastard, aren't you? Excuse me Harry, I didn't mean to swear."

"Its okay," Harry said, pleasantly surprised at hearing his parents curse, "but what's the big deal. And what on earth is that thing?" Harry had no idea what the fuss was about, as all he saw was a large red mass with wires and metal probes sticking out of it.

"That Harry," Sirius proudly explained, "is why I'm indeed what your parents claim; a crazy bastard. A lot worse, probably. You see Harry, to power the Indian without the need for petrol or maintenance, I could have normally charmed the parts like Arthur Weasley did his old car. I did the same with my old bike actually. But with just that alone, like Lily said it would have been impossible to cast effective shield and stunning spells. This bike was to be my reason that Dumbledore would let be participate in Order business outside of Grimmauld Place again, so I wanted to make sure I wouldn't ever suffer from a lack of power or protection.

"So to power the Indian, I needed a proper magical source. I couldn't very well run the bike off my own magic, as that would be physically draining, so I came up with another solution."

"That's one way to put it," Lily retorted. "Another is to say you risked a hundred year sentence in Azkaban by illegally using a dragon's heart to power what amounts to no more than a toy!"

"A dragon heart?" Harry asked nervously. "A while bloody dragon heart? Are you mad Sirius?" It had been explained to him in Care of Magical Creatures class that dragons as immensely magical creatures, had long ago been hunted for their hides and organs. Since the late fourteenth century however the International Conference of Wizards had outlawed all forms of dragon hunting, and the only times their hides or organs (heart and blood included) could be harvested was when a dragon naturally expired. It was for those reasons that the first dragon colonies were created; not just to keep them from muggle eyes, but also to be ready on hand in case a dragon died to harvest their raw materials. That's why dragon hide as clothing and dragon blood as a potion ingredient were so expensive; because the demand far exceeded the supply.

Hides and blood were most commonly offered to the public, as they were plentiful in comparison to other wanted body parts. Dragon meat; like the purple slab Hagrid had bathed his face in last year; was the most plentiful dragon product, because not many had a taste for it, and for each dragon dead, there was literally thousands and thousands of kilos of meat to be harvested. Sure certain body parts such as the tail were more valued then others, and even certain breeds fetched better prices per ounce, but dragon steaks were still considered no big deal.

Dragon hearts though, being the central core of a dragon's innate magic and so valuable, was only approved by the International Conference of Wizards to be used as core material for the making of wands. Even then, a single medium sized dragon heart had over a thousand separate heart strings, each which was made into a separate wand. Harry had no idea of the size of heart in front of him (it was the size of a large watermelon, and almost completely filled the gas tank), but he knew it didn't matter. If the Ministry or possibly even Dumbledore found about his possession of a whole dragon heart, he'd be seeing the inside of Azkaban just as quick as his captured Death Eaters would.

"It's from a young Ukranian Ironbelly I'm told," Sirius explained, as if he hadn't a care in the world. Since he was dead and couldn't stand trial for his crime, Harry supposed he didn't.

"I don't know where on earth Dung managed to find one, but when I asked him to keep his ears open for a magical source powerful enough to power my bike, he told me about this here right away. Cost a good small fortune I can tell you, but it was worth every galleon! The probes and wires protruding from the heart are taping into the magical core, and when you start the bike up, the heart actually beats! I had a hell of a time converting magical energy into combustion to power the motor, but after that, the rest was smooth sailing. If this project wasn't so illegal, I might have even tried for a patent with the Ministry. The large probes all power the engine, and each wire powers a certain charmed part of the bike. This way Harry, no matter how many times you raise the shield or cast a stunner, you'll always be able to again. I suspect this bike could go on for centuries before it ran out of juice."

"But why so many wires Sirius, if there are only five switches," James asked.

"Well," Sirius answered, "there's loads more to this bike than just the five switches on the dash. I've charmed the saddle bags to be magically expanded, and they're password protected as well. Password right now is 'I hate my mother,' but I'm sure you can change it Harry.

"Yes," Lily insisted, "please do."

"Anyway," Sirius went on, "the saddle bags are expanded about ten times each, so each is about the size of a normal car's boot. I've also charmed the bike to never tip over, so you don't have to worry about dumping the bike or wearing a helmet. Then the pipes are charmed not to get hot enough to burn you, and there's a permanent dirt and moisture repelling charm, so the bike will always stay clean, and can never be rained on. The largest thing I had to do was shield the gas tank from magical detection, so the Ministry can't detect the high levels of output. As long as you've got the tank closed, or open in a warded room, you'll be safe Harry. A few more modifications like a wizard's wireless in the dash, and automatic heating and cooling charms for when the weather calls for it, and I think I've nicely rounded out the bike! It can always have more features added on later, but to do that you'll have to crack open the gas tank and fiddle with the dragon heart leads, and that can be dangerous. Harry, you must never touch a dragon heart without wearing dragon hide gloves, and even then don't unless you know what you're doing."

Harry promised, and closed the tank now that the shock of seeing the heart inside was over with. Sirius told him a few more tips about the bike, but otherwise confirmed that as it was charmed never to fall over, Harry could take it for a spin as soon as he wanted. Lily had argued that Harry should get his license first, but without proper muggle identification or birth records (what had the Dursleys done with those?), she was overruled by the three testosterone-driven boys. Yes boys, because with the way they were acting, it was hard to call them men.

Sometime during Sirius's explanation of the bike, all the tools and chests in the small room had been cleaned and put in their proper place. Yet again, Harry was impressed by the elves' ability, as not only had he not noticed the work, but they didn't even know what the tools and gadgets were used for. Sirius told Harry that the bike was done and he wouldn't have any need of the tools anymore, but Harry felt that such a large collection shouldn't go to waste, and called for Dobby to transfer them to an empty room in his Hideaway. Harry already had the start of an idea in his head, and hoped it was possible.

Leaving the bike for now, Harry carried his parent's portrait back into the library, where with Sirius's personal knowledge, and his parent's expertise, Harry was able to further narrow down the two piles of objects Dobby had set aside. Not half of the things deemed "dark" by the house-elf were really dangerous, and that made Harry feel better about the large selection he still had to look over from Sirius's vault. Likewise, most of the items in the safer pile proved to be useless or toys left over from Sirius's childhood, with no real value. Again, Harry was able to drastically decrease the amount of stuff.

When he was all done, Shelly had by then found him, and said her goodbyes(with contract in hand), after gracious taking a portkey Harry offered her back to their meeting spot. Her car was parked nearby, and if Harry wasn't going to walk her back himself, the least he figured he could do was get her there another way. If Shelly was surprised or impressed by his knowledge and ability to create a portkey, she didn't say a word. Admittedly, it was only the second she had ever taken.

And so Harry left, leaving a manageable amount of items for Dobby and Winky to transport back to his Hideaway. Besides the two small piles, the many books, and his parents' portrait, Harry also reluctantly added Phineas Nigellus to the pile, and a few rare and valuable cauldrons and potion ingredients the elves had unearthed somewhere in the basement. There was not much else to consider, and by casting his second portkey spell of the day (this time on his new Indian Chief motorcycle), Harry found himself in the same back alley where he had earlier apparated to.

Padfoot may no longer be able to, but it was time for Harry to ride!

---

The remaining days until Harry and Neville had to return to school passed by with a relaxed normalcy that Harry appreciated after the hectic holidays. His plan to turn one of his empty rooms into a mini-garage had worked out fine, and not only did Harry have room for all of Sirius's tools and a spacious workbench, but the Indian fit in just fine as well.

Driving the first day had been a challenge (as Harry had never driven even a go-cart before), but after a few minor difficulties, he got the hang of it. It was easier Harry supposed with the knowledge that he couldn't crash or fall, and that while practicing in the air, there were no other cars around to contend with.

Mostly flying the distance between Grimmauld Place and downtown London, Harry was worried that not even he would be able to access his Hideaway from outside the building. After all, he hadn't considered it when constructing his runes, but if Hedwig and the owls managed, Harry hoped he could too.

At first he was disappointed, as Harry counted that the building was one floor too short. But then as he concentrated, just like the elevator buttons, the building grew in height right in front of him, as if giving birth to a whole extra floor. After that, it was a simple matter of banishing a window and expanding the hole in the wall to fly his bike inside, and seal the building up after him. And since Harry had engaged the invisibility switch the second he had left the ground four miles back, he didn't have to worry about nosy muggles spotting him from the street below.

He did need more practice driving though, and in the mornings after his newly renewed workout circuit, Harry made sure to take his bike out to a deserted parking lot where he couldn't hurt anyone. Of course he enjoyed the flying equally as well, even though it was nowhere near as fast or as intimate as flying on a broomstick. Flying on his bike though; feeling the raw horsepower between his legs and vibration through his arms; was more satisfying in a relaxing and powerful way.

Remus took the bike out for a spin once as he was an accomplished rider (helping Sirius build his first bike), but hadn't taken it out since. Apparently Dumbledore had a new assignment for him, and most of Remus's time was spent at the school or in the field. After his meeting with Dumbledore, Remus only spent the night twice at Harry's Hideaway. He was shocked to learn Sirius had been building a new bike (apparently only Mundungus Fletcher knew), but after he thought about it, wasn't that surprised.

Neville didn't have the courage to drive the bike alone (Harry may have been a newcomer, but at least he knew what a motorcycle was), but he did consent to ridding pillion with Harry on occasion. Dobby and Winky came along too once, and all four of them had a grand time as Harry flew them above the city. Neville managed to fit on the seat behind Harry as he held on tightly, and the enlarged saddlebags acted like sidecars for the two small house-elves. It was a funny sight really; seeing Harry approach on his shiny motorbike with Neville peeking over his shoulder, and two house-elves excitedly screaming on either side with their bat-like ears flapping in the breeze; but he didn't care. He was spending time with his friends, and enjoying the last of his vacation.

Speaking of spending time, Harry managed to sit and talk with his parents and Sirius at least two hours in the evening since he'd discovered them. Aileen Lindsay and Sirius's Uncle; the two portraits he'd taken from Sirius's vault; he also spent some time with, but not nearly as much. Like Phineas Nigellus, Sirius's uncle, although more pleasant, was a private man, and contempt to just observe an empty room for hours on end. After being locked up in a vault for so long, Harry couldn't blame him. The most he talked was when Harry pushed his portrait up against the one with Sirius, and the two were able to talk. Apparently, Sirius didn't know a portrait of his favorite uncle existed, and cherished the chance to speak civilly with a relative again. The was one thing Harry was confused about, and that was why weren't the portraits able to visit with each other; like the ones at Hogwarts did. He was informed that a spell needed to be performed in order for that to happen, and Harry unfortunately didn't know it off hand. He promised to look it up though once he returned to Hogwarts (none of his books had anything about magical paintings).

Aileen Lindsay was feeling more at ease in the magical world, but still had no idea how she'd come to be created, or what ties she had to the Black vault her portrait had been found in. Lily took it upon herself to spend the most time with the confused muggle, as she was the only other female around besides Winky, and Lily often complained about sharing a portrait with both James and Sirius.

As for Phineas Nigellus, well, after Harry greeted him and received a nasty reply, Harry took great pleasure in wrapping him in a spare sheet, and storing him in one of the unused bathrooms. Harry didn't know what he was going to do with the linked portrait yet, and he wanted to make sure Dumbledore wasn't trying to spy.

Training with Neville also continued, and after their successful defense at St. Mungo's, Neville's confidence and ability to fight stepped up yet another notch. He still spend a lot of time with his parents in their separate suite, but he and Harry managed to duel at least three hours every afternoon; sometimes more. Dobby and Winky had also taken it upon themselves to permanently furnish the small flat the Longbottoms occupied in the same style of Harry's house, as it looked like they would be staying awhile.

After nearly four straight hours of floo calling while Harry was at Grimmauld Place meeting with Dumbeldore, Neville finally managed to contact his grandmother and explained to her the situation. Shocked that her incapable son and daughter-in-law had been attacked, and even more shocked that her grandson had aided Harry Potter in their rescue, she had no problems letting her relatives remain safely where they were. As long as they were properly cared for, and she could move them in the future if she desired, she didn't mind in the least. Her business in Australia was far from complete, and it was just impossible for her to get away and arrange alternate plans herself. She did insist that Healer Bosworth be able to make a house call sometime around Eater to check up on Frank and Alice though, and after Neville agreed (he knew Harry wouldn't mind), his gran promised to mail an owl to St. Mungo's officially approving Neville's earlier decision.

The only slightly unpleasant thing Harry had to do was get his aunt to sign her consent form for Harry to sell Grimmauld Place. Luckily, Hedwig volunteered to be the bearer of bad news, and Harry thanked her profusely that he didn't have to make the trip himself. After so much worry, if didn't even turn out to be that bad. Harry sent Hedwig during the day when he knew Vernon would be at work, and the only thing he had written was, "Sign this form, or else I'll have to come back and live with you all next year." Not three minutes after she had left, Hedwig returned with Petunia's scratchy signature, and not another word.

That was pretty much how the rest of Harry and Neville's holiday went. Hermione sent Rowan twice with letters and thanks from her parents, and Raul even visited once with a short note from Ginny, saying it was his first mail delivery. She's been so taken with him, she wrote, that she refused to use him as a post bird, and instead spoiled him rotten. Already she claimed he had learned two new sayings, and Harry got to hear one for himself the night Raul had appeared.

"Squawk. Ron, stop being a prat! Squawk. Que es pendejo?"

It was the morning of January the third when Harry and Neville did a last minute check around the house, making sure they hadn't forgotten to pack anything. Dobby and Winky would be joining them at Hogwarts later, and everything else they needed was packed the night before in their individual shrunken trunks. Hedwig offered them a ride to the station this time so they didn't have to use a portkey, and offered her tail feathers to both boys from her perch on Harry's shoulder.

"All set Nev? Got everything you need."

"Yep," Neville answered. He looked sad to be leaving his parents' company, but Harry promised he'd try to smuggle Neville off school grounds occasionally so he could visit.

"I really had a fun time here Harry. I really appreciate all you've done for me lately."

"Don't sweat it Neville," Harry grinned back. "You underestimate yourself. I had loads of fun too. Without you here, I don't know what I would have done."

"Thanks Harry," the one-time chubby boy smiled.

"Alright girl, we're all set. Please take us to the train platform."

Hedwig whistled and complied, and in a billowing twirl of flames, Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom vanished.

When they arrived, both boys dropped their grips on the phoenix's tail, and stared each other in the eyes. Something had just transferred between the two of them; and neither knew nor cared what it was. With no further hesitation or embarrassment, they seized each other in a passionate embrace and kissed! It was bliss.

---

Author Note:

Well, here's my next chapter as promised, and in less than two weeks as well. Whoa! That's the fastest update I've had in a long time. I hope it was well worth your wait, and let's see....I've got a few things to talk about.

Portrait. Yeah, we all know it's been done a thousand times before, but I figured why wouldn't Harry have one done. I mean with so many fat ladies and Sir Cadegons riding around Hogwarts, why not a Lily and James Potter, and a little Sirius Black thrown in? Frankly I had the portrait idea right from day one, but almost removed it because it was becoming so overused. In the time since I outlined this fic, I've seen at least 20 authors use the idea. And more importantly, one even did it the same way I was going to. I'm sure you've all heard of Full Pensieve's "Years of Rebellion," and I was shocked not to see a magical portrait in his fic (he's a great writer, and I'm honored to share even the smallest detail with him), but he gave the same explanation as well. You know, the whole mixing paints with a penseive's contents. So I praise him for putting an explanation behind a canon reference no one before has cared to explore; even if it did make my own theory less revolutionary. They're not the same; slightly different; and I won't ignore the fact. The idea was only outlined originally, but in fine tuning it, I couldn't help but think of Mike's portrayal.

Dumbledore. Hopefully now you've all seen I'm not going to turn him and Harry against each other, as their conflict is finally over. DD just needed to see Harry in a new light. Not as a child and student, who's careless and reckless when concerned over the actions of others; but instead as an individual with the right to decide his own future, and who has matured greatly in the past year, and has more than taken the necessary measures to protect himself, while still not waivering on his need to protect and defend his friends. From this point in my fic on, the two will be working much closer to each other, although you need not fear, for Harry will still be keeping most of his secrets.

Snape. Yeah, wasn't that fun! What can I say? I truly like to beat on his character, and although I know I'm probably most uncanon-like with his scenes, I do have a reason for Harry standing up to him so strongly. We'll see more of Snape shortly, including a trip to Ollivander's where he has to buy a replacement wand. (How cool was that – Harry snapping his wand right in his face?)

Mrs. Black's Portrait. Well, like Harry said, what else were you going to do with her? If Grimmauld Place were to be sold, who in there right mind would want that painting? Not even the Malfoys I'm sure. And how many of us didn't have the desire to snap the damn thing over our knee at least once? So, I figured, why not have Harry do just that. In fanon I've seen him burn it, blast the wall apart, and I've even seen some secrets vaults and rooms hidden behind her painting. Simply snapping her in half isn't to original I admit, but I was going for realism. And I know if I were in Harry's position, I would do exactly as I wrote he did. Call me cruel and heartless, but whatever.

Kreacher. Same as Mrs. Black really. He was a pain I needed to get rid of, and as characters Harry and the Order needed to get rid of him or keep him under control as well. So I had Dobby administer a little house-elf justice, and I don't see why that might not be true in some way. Remember back to when Harry first told Dobby and Winky about Kreacher, and they were appalled. Yeah, I was dropping major hints even back then. A reader asked me some time ago if I'd explore more of Dobby and Winky's relationship, and I told him I wasn't planning on it, because I had no idea where to begin. Creating a whole house-elf culture is a daunting task; worthy of an entire fic itself. When writing this scene though I couldn't help but think that it was the perfect opportunity to introduce a little house-elf history. I wonder how else did they originally enter slavery? Promising their unborn children for wronging a witch or wizard seemed at the time just as good an idea as any other I've read.

Motorcycle. Again like the portrait, yes it's overused, but I did put some spins on it to make it original. First off, I think I'm the only person so far to have Sirius create a new bike, not the one he lent to Hagrid 15 years ago. I mean, damn! That thing must be rusted through by now, if it even managed to survive Hagrid's weight. With Sirius thought to be guilty, I didn't think Hagrid or anyone else would bother maintaining of keeping the bike (which looked dirty and broken down in the SS movie anyway), so I thought it would be cool to write it as gone feral in the forest. If it happened to the Anglia, why not a motorcycle? Plus, there's the fact that Sirius was trapped inside Grimmauld Place for almost an entire year. So, what the hell did he do with himself? No internet and television, and I would have gone stir crazy within weeks. So I thought building a new bike would be a believable hobby. I also left hints like mad in the past months about the bike, and there have even been two pics in my Yahoo! Group of it since this summer. I'm really surprised no one asked about them before. The bike will remain largely a new toy for Harry though until me first sequel. I have many plans for it then. And for anyone's info, yes, the story about Indians is true, although I tweaked the timeline to fit HP's world a little. In reality, Indians didn't start production up again until 1997. So I think I'm a year off. Sue me! And yes, they're my fav bikes.

Anything else I can remember to say I'll post in my Yahoo! Group, and I'll also be having a live chat there soon. I've also got a new fic "The Best of a Bad Situation" which is being published at It's a short, smutty NC-17 piece I couldn't get out of my head, and I hope a few of you will take a look. I guess it's my way to keep PoT PG13; by writing pure smut somewhere else. That's all for now though, and I promise to make one more update before the month ends!

Oh, and as I've taken to do lately, all review responses to my last chapter are posted in the "files" section of my Yahoo! Group. I think likes it that way, and so do most of my members. Joining is free and easy, so stop by and take a look. Link is on my bio page; just click on "homepage" to get there. Later!

Ross

P.S. Oh yeah, forget that last paragraph completely! I was just having a joke after so many of you complained about last chapter's cliffhanger. I don't write slash, and nothing will happen between Harry and Neville. I promise! But how many of you were scared? Or stranger yet, how many of you were excited? Leave a review and tell me.