Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. I was at camp, and then I had tennis tryouts. I made varsity, by the way. I will try to update more often, but I start school next week, so who knows. I made this chappy extra long as an apology; it was originally going to be two chapters. So, the next ones won't be nearly so long, especially because I have school. Thank you so much all my reviewers and all my pollers. (The people who took my pole, and yes, it's s real word. Look it up in Webster's if you don't believe me.) I will leave the pole up until my next update, which should be in a week or so, so if you want me to have your input, take the poll. Anyway, onward with Chapter 9!

Disclaimer: Seriously? Do I look like J. K. Rowling? Don't answer that; you don't know what I look like. But take my word for it; I do not look like her. And since I do not look like her; I can not be her. And since I cannot be her; I can not own Harry Potter. It's not rocket science, people!

Chapter 9 My Home Sweet Home

"Now what do I do?" Harry mused aloud, as he walked out of the dark London alley he had apparated to. Harry really had no idea where he should go. He needed a place to stay; that was for sure. But where? The Order of Idiots was certainly searching frantically for him now, as Harry was sure the death munchers were. Death Eaters didn't worry Harry in the slightest; he could just keep a lookout on Voldy's mind for where he was going to send them. That would be easy…. but the Order?

Harry had no doubt it had grown, probably now with people he wouldn't recognize; and they had probably lost a few members too. From what the dementors had told Harry while he was incarcerated, Voldemort had been pulling out all the stops because Harry had been out of the way. Huh, the Order had probably been trying to use Harry's release to boost morale.

'I guess my little speech probably didn't have the intended effect, then,' Harry thought smugly, 'Oh, well, you reap what you sow. Besides, I did say I would kill Voldemort, even if it insulted them in the process. They should just be grateful I didn't leave them to Moldy Short's mercy.'

So, if the Order had grown, they would have new members who could watch Harry without him even realizing it… that sucked. Harry reviewed his options. If he bought a house, they would be able to trace his purchase back to him. Plus, he didn't have any money. They would also probably be checking abandoned houses and apartments, too. He couldn't stay at the Leaky Cauldron or some other hotel, either. They'd be able to find him easily, and he was going to be busy; he couldn't afford to be interrupted in the future. Besides, he really didn't want to see anyone.

What he really needed was somewhere he could use a fidealous charm on. But he didn't trust anyone enough to give his new address to. Harry cast his mind back to all t he places he'd known with the charm on them when it came to him.

'Oh, I've already been there; I'd be able to get a steady source of food and information; and I can keep an eye on the Order. Plus, no one would ever expect me to go back there. Besides, think of all the revenge I could get on the side…it's perfect!'

With a sly grin, and a turn of his heel, Harry apparated silently to the doorstep of the one and only Number Twelve Grimlaund Place. What most wizards didn't know was that if you concentrated hard enough, you could apparate without making any noise. It took some extra power, sure; but, hey, it was well worth it. Harry quickly cast an invisibility spell on himself. With a little bit of extra power, no one, not even Moody with his funky eye thing, would be know he was there. Harry was about to (silently) apparate inside, when he noticed the wards surrounding the house.

'Very clever, Dumbles,' He thought in silent, if grudging, appreciation.

The wards were so carefully hidden in all the other magics surrounding the house, that most wizards wouldn't notice them. Harry studied the wards carefully. They weren't spelled to keep people out, but to alert the residents inside when someone came in. They wouldn't' need protection charms because of the fidealous charm. Harry searched painstakingly along the wards, looking for any crack or hole, no matter how small, that he could slip through. It took a few minutes, (Dumbledore had been very thorough) but Harry finally found a small microscopic crack in the wards. Harry carefully opened the crack just enough to be able to get through, but not enough to alert anyone to the flaw. He then apparated through the crack…right into Kreacher's room.

Unfortunately, what with him being Harry Potter and all, and since this was his life, wasn't it, Kreacher couldn't just be off "cleaning" the house, now could he? No, he just had to be sleeping in his room…right where Harry apparated. Also unfortunately, what with Kreacher being a house elf and all, he just had to be able to see through Harry's charm. Not even Harry, with all his magical might and training, could fool a house elf. Their magic were simply too different to work well against each other, especially with Harry having dementor-style magic thanks to his training.

"Ooof!" Kreacher woke with a high-pitched squeal as 150 lbs of renegade wizard fell on top of him. Harry quickly rolled off the elf and clamped a hand over his mouth to prevent him from making any more noise. The house elf immediately glared death at Harry and began squirming loudly to try to break free, all the while with Harry making little shushing gestures and saying calming little things.

The elf kept fighting until Harry suddenly got the nerve to shout, "Regulus Black!"

The elf stopped squirming immediately. "What?" he squeaked.

Harry turned his eyes to the heavens, thanking them silently for dementors who seemed to know far more than they really should. "Regulus Black, your master. I knew him, and I know what he was trying to do. I'm here to help finish what he started. Are you in?" It wasn't really a lie, was it? I mean he kinda sorta maybe knew Regulus in a far removed way.

Kreacher just stared at Harry for a few moments. "…You knew Master Regulus?"

"Well, not personally; but I know all about the locket."

The elf's eyes widened in surprise; then, they automatically glanced towards a rumpled corner of rags in his room. "You know…how to destroy it?"

Harry nodded firmly. "I know how to destroy it." At this, the deranged house elf broke down into hysterical sobs.

"Kreacher tried to get rid of it; he really did! Master R-Regulus said to get rid of it, and Kreacher tried; but he, he just couldn't!"

"It's okay, Kreacher, you can stop crying now." Harry tried fervently to hush the loud sobbing house elf. Thinking quickly, he cast a quick silent muffliatio charm.

"I will help you complete your master's last command. Can you show me where the locket is?" Kreacher looked at Harry distrustfully. "Please." Harry enthused, letting desperation color his voice.

Kreacher stared at Harry before seeming to decide that anyone who knew about the locket and sounded truly desperate was trustworthy. Go figure. "Here…" Kreacher slowly moved over to the pile of rags and pulled out a silver locket with an's' on the front of it and handed it carefully (maybe even lovingly) over to Harry. Harry eyed the locket with dislike before pocketing it and turning back to Kreacher.

"Thank you so much, Kreacher; Master Regulus would be proud of you." At this, the demented house elf broke down into sobs again. It took Harry quite a while to quiet him down. As soon as Kreacher stopped sobbing, Harry looked him in the eye. "Kreacher, I need a place to stay right now, while I complete you master's task. May I stay here, in the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black?" (Yeah, that's right, the capital letters are audible.)

Kreacher looked taken aback and flattered that Harry had asked him for permission. "Sir is too kind. Kreacher is sure Master Regulus would wish for you to stay here. It would be Kreacher's honor to take care of one of Master Regulus's followers."

Harry felt a tad disgruntled at being called a follower but chose not to comment on it. He really needed to stay here. "Do you have some room here that no one goes in, or at least not often?" Harry knew it was a big house, but a lot of people would be staying there.

"There is Master Bernard's room. They," the word was spoken with venom and disgust, "never go in there because the late master was forever suspicious, hiding traps and spells. They are afraid they might miss one when cleaning and decided to just leave the room alone…cowards. Kreacher knows all the traps; he could show you how to avoid them."

Harry grinned widely. "That would be wonderful, Kreacher, thank you. Where is this room?"

"Down the main hallway, up the stairs, and the last room on the left, sir."

"Could you maybe go ahead on up there and disable all the taps. I'll meet you up there, but first I have some business to take care of."

"Yes, sir," Kreacher apparated with a pop up to the room, and Harry took off the muffliato spell.

Carefully and silently, Harry apparated to the kitchen, taking a position in an unused corner. The Order members had arrived back at headquarters and were meeting there. Harry noticed that his two ex-best friends were joining them, and that several Order members were missing. Tonks wasn't there, and neither was Charlie Weasley, Bill Weasley, or Mad-Eye Moody. Strangely enough, there were no new Order members there. Mrs. Weasley was cooking dinner busily while everyone else sat around the table. Harry listened for a few seconds, and a smirk stretched over his face. He had apparated into a conversation about himself.

(A/N: I was going to stop here, but I decided what with the wait, yes, two weeks is a wait to me, and school coming up that I might as well post two chapters. Enjoy.)

"He hates us, Moony. He hates us, and I, for one, can't blame him!" Sirius Black ranted despairingly to the werewolf. Lupin just nodded his head in agreement. Everyone in the room looked put out. Silence reigned, except for Sirius muttering about hate. Dumbledore just sat there thinking. Weasley twin 1 looked over at Weasley twin 2.

"Well, Forge, I, for one, feel quite proud of the little bugger right now."

"I agree completely, Gred."

"Why are you proud of him?" Male ex-best friend piped up. "He just told us that he wanted nothing to do with us, and then he – he – he started flirting with Malfoy. And he was even nice to Snape! He completely snubbed us and hates us. How on Earth can you be proud?"

The twins let out dual laughs, startling everyone in the room into looking at them in disbelief. "Don't you think there was a reason he was flirting with Malfoy and being civil with Snape?"

Understanding lit in Lupin's eyes. "He figured doing that would upset us even more than telling us that he hated us. And it worked. Everyone's been infuriated at the thought of him forgiving those who he used to hate and not forgiving those he liked."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we've been played." Twin 1 whistled in appreciation.

"Like a violin, my brother," Twin 2 responded. "A brilliantly played prank, we commend you, Mr. Potter, wherever you are."

Harry had to admit, he was feeling a tad bit disappointed that they'd figured it out so quickly. Oh, well, at least he'd gotten to see them sweat a little. Besides, he had to be a little impressed the twins had figured it out. They had always been some of his favorite people. Hmm, out of all the people there, Harry felt they were the two he probably hated the least. Maybe he should tell them he was there; they, if anyone, would find the humor in him staying here. Plus, he could take his royalties from their business…no, he couldn't risk it. They were still loyal to Dumbledore, and, besides, they had already betrayed him once. Who's to say they wouldn't do it again. He still didn't suppose he could truly hate them, though; but he still didn't like them. Harry turned his attention back to the conversation. Freckles (the newly dubbed Ron Weasley) was looking confused…again.

"Wait, so you mean Harry doesn't actually like Malfoy? He was just doing it to get back at us?"

Granger looked thoughtful. "Could be, but I bet you he doesn't dislike Malfoy as much anymore. He may even like him now, but romantically or platonically, I have no idea. I suppose he would prefer someone who had openly disliked him rather than people like us who had cared for him and then betrayed him."

Freckles looked disturbed at this thought, but Harry had to admit Granger was right in some ways. Harry would rather spend time with Draco than with his ex-friends, but did he like Draco…? Harry was interrupted out of his thoughts when the missing Bill Weasley walked into the room, looking haggard and put out.

Immediately, Black jumped up out of his seat. "Did you find him? Do you know where he is?" he questioned frantically.

Bill Weasley shook his head sadly and sat down in a chair. Everyone heaved disappointed sighs, and Black slumped back down into his seat. Harry stifled a snicker, and Lupin looked suspiciously in his direction. Oops, Harry had forgotten about his enhanced werewolf hearing. He would need to be more careful if he was going to be staying here for any extended amount of time, which he certainly hoped he wouldn't be.

"I checked his Gringotts account, and there hasn't been any activity other than the 1,000 galleons being put in. I also asked one of my buddies at the housing agencies, and Harry hasn't been there. I have Fleur keeping watch at the bank, and my friend agreed to watch the agencies."

'Is that ethical?' Harry wondered for a moment before dismissing the thought; since when had Dumbledore ever been completely ethical? Harry then looked down at his clothes. They were rather grimy from Kreacher's "room" and the boat ride. He sniffed; he could use a shower.

Black looked outraged. "He has no money! He can't buy himself any food, and he has no place to stay! What is he going to do, sleep in an ally somewhere? We asked him to stay here; even if he hated us, why didn't he come?"

Lupin, ever the voice of reason, patted Black's shoulder comfortingly. In truth, he felt just as angry as his best friend; but he had to insert some logic into the conversation. "We didn't ask him; we ordered him. That would be a major turn off. Besides, even if we had asked, he would have said no. We hurt him, and he basically views us as…well, not the enemy, really, but close enough. Would you really go stay with your enemy, no matter how disgusting the thought of sleeping in an alley is? No, you wouldn't; and neither would Harry; he has more pride than that."

"Anyway," Arthur Weasley said, speaking for the first time all night. "I'm sure that if Harry could survive 3 and ½ years in Azkaban, he could survive one night alone in London. Besides, dinner is ready, isn't it, Molly?"

"Yes, dear," Molly Weasley said quietly, subdued for once. Everyone looked expectantly over at Dumbledore.

"I agree with Arthur; it is late, and we can discuss this and the search more tomorrow. But I must say this; we have hurt Mr. Potter, very badly. While I believe we should keep searching for him, I also believe that he will come to confront us when he is ready. Until then, I'm afraid he won't listen to a word we say. However, we need to keep trying to provide him with whatever aid we can. He is our last hope for defeating Voldemort, but, that aside, he is still a young man that we all care about who is trying to find his way in this world. Meeting adjourned."

Harry let out a strangled choke that caused Lupin to glance suspiciously over at his corner again. He'd expected Dumbledore to say they should search for him, but he hadn't expected the old man to warn them (even if just a little) to respect Harry's privacy. But, in the same breath, he'd told them to keep bugging Harry! That was so…Dumbledore. Still, Harry had gotten some food for thought; he hadn't thought Granger or Lupin would be able to understand him so well. He needed to watch out for them, especially Lupin. If he wasn't careful, they might trick him into forgiving them when he didn't want to do that. Darnit, he hated these people, so why did some of have to be so, so…likeable? He hated them, hated them, didn't he?

'Darnit, get out of my head, Cindy!' Harry screamed internally, sure this was Cindy's fault somehow.

Harry looked up from his internal struggle to see the people leaving and to find Lupin sniffing suspiciously near where he was. Oops, time to go; Azkaban had changed his scent enough that Lupin probably wouldn't recognize it. But, still, he was sure he smelled familiar; and he didn't want to take any chances. Harry skirted around the werewolf and dashed silently through the open door up the stairs. He wanted escape so quickly, he didn't notice his invisibility charm wear off as he crossed the hallway. He had just about reached Bernard's room, when-

"H-Harry?" Male ex-best friend stood, wide eyed, on the other side of the hallway, on his way back downstairs from the bathroom. "What are you doing here?"

Thinking rapidly, Harry raised two fingers and waved them in front of Freckles' face. "These are not the droids you're looking for." (1)

"These are not the- wait, what, Harry?"

Harry heaved a sigh and looked at a very stunned and confused Weasley, raising his hand. "It was worth a shot. Darn Jedi mind powers; I will master you yet! Oh, well, Obliviate! Confundus! (2)That's what you get for calling me Harry without my permission." Harry sent Freckles downstairs and quickly opened the door to Bernard's room without recasting the invisibility spell. He was greeted with the sight of Kreacher…cleaning. How strange. "Hello, Kreacher, thank you for cleaning up."

The elf looked up in joy. "Oh, is Sir done with his task downstairs?" Harry nodded. "Good, good, Kreacher will show Sir around. (3) Kreacher has keyed Sir's magical signature into all the traps, so that they will not bother Sir; but will deter any unwelcome guests."

"Thank you, Kreacher, good job." The elf positively glowed at the compliment.

Kreacher showed Harry about the fairly large room. It had a bed in the middle. (Kreacher had changed the linen…just for Harry.) Kreacher showed Harry to the four alternate escape routes from the room and the hidden door to a small training/panic room. There were a fully automated kitchen, sneakscopes, and other dark magic detectors everywhere. It reminded Harry vaguely of the Mood-imposter's office. Kreacher had already taken the liberty of making Harry some good-looking tomato soup, which he told Harry to help himself to.

Harry started eating while Kreacher showed Harry the wardrobes full of clean clothes he could use and a small private owlrey, complete with one small barn owl he could use to send letters. Harry wondered vaguely what had happened to Hedwig before giving his attention back to the elf. Kreacher then showed Harry a small illusion on the wall which, when undone, showed a final room filled with gold; apparently, Bernard hadn't even trusted Gringotts. That solved Harry's money problem, but man! This guy had been paranoid! Smiling, Harry turned to an anxious-to-please Kreacher.

"Thank you, Kreacher; it's perfect. Could you possibly set me up with an anonymous subscription to the Daily Prophet?"

"Yes, Sir, of course, Sir. Kreacher will leave Sir to sleep and will wake Sir in the morning."

"Good, thank you again, Kreacher." The elf disparated with a pop that went unheard. Harry wondered why before he realized the entire room was warded and had silencing charms around it. Man, had that guy been paranoid! He was worse than Moody! This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

Exhausted, Harry crawled into bed and let sleep overtake him.

A/N: (1) Just so you know, if you didn't already, this fanfic will be filled with random and famous quotes as such used above. I do not own any of said quotes, got it?

(2) Hey, isn't Confundus just a lower power and legal version of the Imperio spell? Seems like it to me.

(3) It must be fun talking in third person. Maybe I should try it out sometime.

Hi, thanks for reading Chapter 9. It was hard describing Ron without calling him Ron. There are just too many Weasleys to just call him Weasley. As to why I don't use any of the traitors' first names alone except when it's in their POV…well, it just wouldn't fit the story. You'll know when, and if, Harry starts forgiving some of them when I use their first names. If you have any ideas for what to call someone, (no inappropriate ones, please) I would love it if you shared them with me. Until Next time,

Review, please, I don't know if my poor heart could take it if I didn't get another review. So, please, so I don't get a heart attack from loneliness, die, and can't finish the story, REVIEW!