Sirius Black was not panicking. But he was not far from it.
It would be a massive understatement to say that he wasn't pleased when Dumbledore made the announcement that You-Know-Who was hunting the Potters and Longbottoms. He understood the danger, however, and that was why he had suggested Peter for James and Lily's secret keeper. Sirius would run around saying he that he himself was the secret keeper, as an added security feature.
Then he has gotten the call for help; You-Know-Who was attacking his friend. Sirius knew he would be too late; he just knew he had to get there. But there was the nagging question of Peter; how had You-Know-Who found the Potters?
Sirius knew that the Fidelius could never be given under torture, or otherwise tricked out of the secret keeper. Part of why the Fidelius, even though it was such a tricky charm to cast, was so popular was because the keeper could only give the secret directly; the thought being they'd only give it to someone they trusted.
Sirius didn't want to imagine Peter as one of You-Know-Who's followers—he was a marauder, for Merlin's sake!—but come to think of it, the rat hadn't worn anything but long-sleeves for almost a year.
If Peter Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters—Sirius' best friends and godson—then marauder or not, Sirius would kill him.
~§~
The Prewetts had decided to Floo over to St. Mungo's. Harry had asked about apparation, but they both agreed that Floo travel was much safer and more comfortable for someone not used to wizard travel.
They instructed Harry to take a scoop of Floo powder, step into the fire place, and loudly and clearly state his destination. He was very excited to try some magic for himself, but Gideon insisted on going at the same time as him, in case he 'got lost'. Luckily, the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron was large enough that they could both stand side by side with no problem.
Harry wasn't quite sure what to expect; maybe he'd appear in another fireplace in a sudden puff of smoke? But instead he felt himself and Gideon get sucked up into the fireplace very quickly. They then started spinning, not fast enough for Harry to get sick, but certainly enough that he couldn't tell up from down. They passed through several areas which looked to be other fireplaces at a glance, but they zoomed by too fast for Harry to get a proper look.
The two of them landed only a few moments later. Gideon stepped out of the fireplace calm and neatly; Harry spun around several times and fell down right as Fabian came out.
"You alright there?" Fabian asked, waving Gideon ahead. "Next time, spin yourself the opposite direction when you land, it'll help you keep your balance."
"Thanks." Harry panted, climbing to his feet and dusting off his soot-covered shoulders.
They had landed in what looked like some kind of reception area: there were several wicker chairs dotting the room, with a few small tables which had magazines on them. Gideon was talking to a plump blonde witch in lime green—robes? Harry wasn't sure what wizards called their clothes.
There were several witches and wizards sitting in the chairs with strange ailments; Harry tried very hard not to stare, but it was so strange that it was more than a bit difficult. One wizard had grown what looked to be some very fuzzy antennae. Another had two pairs of arms. A witch in the corner was holding a sleeping child with bright blue skin. Someone wrapped in a cloak appeared to be sitting quite uncomfortably on what looked like some kind of barbed tail.
A large sign hung on the wall next to the witch in green robes. Harry read it.
FLOOR GUIDE
Ground Floor: Artifact Accidents
Exploding cauldrons, backfiring-wands, broom crashes, etc.
First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries
Bites, stings, burns, imbedded spiders, etc.
Second Floor: Magical Bugs
Contagious maladies, e.g. dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrofulungus
Third Floor: Potion and Plant Poisoning
Rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggling, etc.
Fourth Floor: Spell Damage
Unliftable jinxes, hexes, and incorrectly applied charms
Fifth Floor: Visitor's Tearoom and Hospital Shop
Harry had never seen a sign like it. Imbedded spiders? Broom crashes? Unliftable jinxes? Some of those sounded painful. He vaguely wondered why there were no non-magical floors. Maybe the wizards could fix those easily. But how was it done? Could they even cure things like cancer and diabetes, or did they just send people off to Muggle hospitals?
Harry opened his mouth to ask, but Fabian started walking toward Gideon and the green-robed witch, motioning for Harry to follow.
"Healer Barnes will meet us on Floor 2." Gideon said. "Mr. Potter, Healer Barnes is the Prewett family healer. I'm not sure who the Potter family healer is, so I hope you don't mind seeing Barnes? She's very stern, but I promise she knows what she's doing."
Harry's eyebrows shot up. Each family had their own healer? He had his own healer? Was a healer like a doctor? "Ok." He said. "When can she see me?"
"Now, if that's all right." Gideon said. "Come on, this way."
The twins led him over to a large lift in the corner of the room. Fabian pushed the button for the second floor, and they waited as it slowly went up.
"Does each family have their own doctor?" Harry asked.
"We call them healers." Fabian replied absentmindedly. "And it's really only the oldest and wealthiest families that have their own. Barnes signed herself onto us because she felt that we got ourselves hurt far too many times. In our defense, though," he added, grinning, "it's mostly Fred and George who get hurt. They like to invent new potions and such, and every once in a while there'll be an extra-large explosion and they need to come here."
"And the Potters had their own healer?"
Gideon answered, "Yeah. They must have. Your dad was one of the richest wizards around, Mr. Potter. Even more so than the Blacks, and trust me, they're loaded. I would be surprised if the Potters didn't have one. I'd have you see him, but you're not allowed to ask about other family's healers."
The lift bumped to a stop. The doors opened, and they stepped out into a long, clean hallway. There were several signs on the walls pointing to different wards. As they walked down the hallway, Harry peered into one of them. Only one of the beds was occupied; an old woman was covered in huge, painful looking, purple pustules.
The Prewetts led Harry down to the end of the hallway. There were several small rooms clustered together, and Harry followed the men into one on the far right.
There was a short, stern-looking healer waiting for them. She was wearing the lime green robes which Harry guessed must have been the healers' uniform. She had short blonde hair, a square chin, and her sleeves were rolled up.
"All right, Mr. Potter," she said as soon as the door had closed. "I hear you've never been to a healer before?"
Harry shook his head, climbing onto the table.
"Muggle or wizard?" She said, sounding surprised.
He shook his head again.
"Hmph. Well, I'm going to do a quick exam on you, and then we'll go from there. All right?"
She waved her wand at Harry in several complicated patterns which left swirls of bright light flitting about the room. Then she tapped her wand on both his knees, his elbows, and the top of his head. She had him put a thermometer in his mouth, and harrumphed again when she read it. Finally, she had him take his glasses off. A small light appeared on the tip of her wand, and she looked in both of his eyes.
"Well," she said, turning back to the Prewetts. "He's a bit scrawny, but not starving. He shows signs of being malnourished, but he's obviously been eating well for the past few years. He's shorter than he should be, and his eyesight his atrocious, but he's got good reflexes and he's relatively healthy. I'd recommend two weeks' worth of nutrient potions to fix the malnutrition and height. A stop by the optometrist would be good—get that done soon, those glasses do nothing for that boy."
Gideon and Fabian looked relieved. Harry wasn't sure what an optometrist was, but if the healer thought he needed new glasses—well, Aunt Petunia had bought his pair out of a sale bin at the store, so he'd be fine with some new ones.
The healer was frowning. "I—who's his guardian?"
"It's complicated." Gideon replied carefully.
"How complicated?" She demanded.
"We don't know. His parents' will was never opened, and he's been raised by a Muggle who refused to stand by and do nothing while his Muggle relatives neglected him. Lord Black is looking into it."
"A Muggle, huh? All right. Would you two be willing to stand in for the moment?"
"Why?" Fabian asked suspiciously. "Is something wrong?"
"No. But there's something I'd like to mention that's not fit for a child's ears without permission."
"If it's about the Dursleys," Harry interrupted. "I can handle it."
"Of course you can, dear." She said absentmindedly, still staring at the Prewetts.
"Er—I suppose we can." Gideon answered hesitantly. "Mr. Potter, you mind?"
"No." Harry replied, curious to know what had the healer so worked up. It wasn't like he was dying or anything.
~§~
James and Lily were dead. Harry was alive. James and Lily were dead. That was all Sirius could think. His best friend—gone. And Harry—well, Hagrid had him, so Sirius figured the little tyke should be safe at least for a day. Maybe. Well, death eaters wouldn't be a problem, at least.
Sirius gritted his teeth as he ran up the street. Damn Peter to hell! No, Pettigrew. He wouldn't call the -traitorbastardmurdurerliar—by his name. He didn't deserve it.
Pete—Pettigrew—had been the one to betray James and Lily. He had been a death eater—must have been! Sirius could have hexed himself for not seeing it earlier. All those times when the traitor had disappeared for hours on end, never wearing anything but long-sleeves, and generally being a terrified little squealer who always hung out with whoever could protect him…Sirius would kill him. If it was the last thing he'd do, Sirius would—kill—Peter—Pettigrew!
He obviously hadn't been thinking clearly when he gave Hagrid his bike; true, he didn't really need it right then, but it would have been far quicker to catch the sniveling rat bastard if he had it. He only hoped that Hagrid took good care of it.
Sirius apparated to the street where he knew Pettigrew had been staying the past few weeks; ever since James and Lily went under the Fidelius, they had decided the secret keeper would live in an out of the way Muggle street. There were hundreds of those, and so long as Pettigrew was careful, he wouldn't have been found. But obviously that hadn't been an issue; he had been found long before that.
Sirius marched up the steps of Pettigrew's small house, raised his wand, and basted apart the door.
He wasn't expecting the cowardly son-of-a-bitch to dart out past Sirius as a rat, but Sirius quickly turned and blasted a dark red hex at him, followed by a light blue curse which would have shriveled Pettigrew's skin until he looked like a mummy and died from dehydration—Sirius was a marauder, and he wasn't playing around.
Pettigrew turned back to a human, holding his wand unsteadily.
"Sirius, please!" He whimpered, buckteeth chattering nervously. "I had to! I didn't want to, but the dark lord, he—he made me! Sirius, you don't understand—his power was so great!"
Sirius snarled and threw another curse. "Go to hell, Peter! You killed them! You betrayed James and Lily—you might as well have killed them yourself!"
Peter shook his head as he clumsily dodged Sirius' hexes and curses. "Sirius, I didn't want to! But the dark lord would have found them anyway—I only helped. I didn't mean too, but he made me!"
"Liar! You knew what you were doing!"
Pettigrew's face twisted into an odd look—a sort of grimace and nasty grin forced into one hideous expression. "Oh yes, Sirius, I know exactly what I'm doing."
"How could you?!" Sirius yelled, the heat of battle overwhelming him. He didn't even notice the small crowd of Muggles they had gathered, didn't notice the mad cackle escaping from his lips.
"I am a loyal servant of the dark lord, Sirius, and one day—he will return! My master is immortal—this setback won't stop his noble plans! I wouldn't expect you to understand, Sirius—you ran from the glory. I am sorry, Sirius, but I have to do this."
Sirius pointed his wand at the traitor, a feral grin marring his usually handsome features. "So do I, Peter."
Sirius was blasted back in shock and pain as Pettigrew threw some kind of advanced blasting curse, hitting the Muggle road and causing the entire thing to explode. There were screams, and Sirius couldn't see anything.
He sat there for several minutes, staring at the finger the traitor had left behind. Sirius felt grief—overwhelming grief—but mostly shock. He didn't move…he didn't think he could move. James and Lily were dead. Peter had escaped. Harry was gone. Regulus was dead. He had nothing.
He limply allowed the Aurors to arrest him. He stood without fighting, and didn't struggle when they took his wand. A single tear ran down his face. Sirius looked up at the pale grey sky.
"I killed Lily and James Potter!" He screamed in outraged grief as he was led away.
~§~
Healer Barnes led the brothers to the other side of the room, and put up a privacy charm. Harry looked disappointed when he realized he couldn't hear them.
"What is it?" Gideon asked, expecting the worst.
The healer sighed. "His scar. I'd need to do more tests to find out, but he got that scar ten years ago, and it still hasn't faded. If it was truly put there by dark magic, I'd like to check it out, make sure there's no residue left over."
The brothers went white.
"You're saying there's a chance he's got part of the killing curse in his head?" Fabian whispered.
"I don't know." Healer Barnes answered truthfully. "But there's something that's preventing it from healing right. It looks like the poor boy got it yesterday. If you two accept temporary claim over the boy, I could check it out—it would be like caring for a friend's child. Not actual guardianship, but something. I just need permission."
"Do whatever you need to." Fabian answered promptly.
"Alright." She cancelled the charm. "Mr. Potter?"
Harry looked up. "Yeah?"
"I'm going to call some colleagues of mine to check out that scar of yours. I don't like how it looks like you got it yesterday."
"Ok." Harry was a little surprised that someone had actually noticed that; he had certainly never thought about it.
Healer Barnes ended up calling Healer Danners from the First floor, and Healer Vane from the fourth floor. Healer Danner was a large, burly black man with a smile that appeared out of place on his intimidating frame. Healer Vane was a small little witch with bony arms and messy brown hair wrapped up in a bun.
"Mr. Potter!" Healer Vane squeaked when she entered the room. "I know you're here for your checkup, but before we start, I'd just like to say thank you. I have three nieces who are safe because that awful wizard isn't about anymore."
Harry blinked. "Oh. Um—you're welcome." He hadn't expected anyone to actually thank him for bringing down Voldemort—he had just been a baby!
"The thing is," Healer Barnes said. "Is Mr. Potter's scar. It looks fresh, and for an old scar on a growing boy, that's not normal. We're going to check and see if there's any magical residue left over, Mr. Potter. Don't worry—this won't hurt a bit."
Healer Danners had brought some kind of smelly green salve with him. He used gloved hands to smear a glob on Harry's forehead, on top of the scar. Harry hissed as the salve burned coldly. The healers looked at him, startled.
"Did that hurt?" Healer Danners asked, concerned.
"Yeah, it stung. It's really cold." Harry said, resisting the urge to grab his head.
Healer Vane looked quite frightened as she came over and waved her wand over him, muttering what sounded like nonsense words.
She stopped and turned pale. "Oh dear."
She slowly placed her wand in her pocket. Then she told Harry to stay put, and put a privacy ward up around the other adults.
"What did you find?" Healer Barnes asked. "Is the killing curse still in there?"
"No." Healer Vane replied curtly.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
"So what is it then?" Fabian asked.
"That's the thing. It's some sort of soul leach."
Everyone paled. The Prewetts glanced at each other.
"Can you remove it?" Gideon asked hesitantly.
Healer Vane took a deep breath. "With the three of us, yes, we should be able to. It appears to be acting like a dormant possession. Healer Danners, Healer Barnes, do you feel confidant?"
"Yes." They answered.
"Anything to get that horrible thing out of the child." Healer Danners shuddered.
"We can't tell him," Healer Vane argued, "there's just no way I'm telling a child he has a piece of You-Know-Who in his head."
The three healers nodded to each other, and turned back to Harry.
"Mr. Potter, there is some sort of magical residue left in the scar. It's very dangerous, so we're going to have to remove it." Healer Barnes said calmly.
~§~
Sirius was in shock.
He had been placed in Azkaban without trial, and wasn't expecting to be let out anytime soon. His animagus form helped a bit with the Dementors, but they still sucked ever bit of happiness and joy out of him—not that there was much left to begin with.
Not five minutes ago he had been sitting in his cold stone cell, trying to keep warm and away from the Dementors, when two guards had dragged him out to the visiting section. Sirius wasn't aware that Azkaban even had a visiting section. Now, he was staring into the pale face of his not-so-dead little brother.
"Regulus?" He croaked.
The same little brother who had run away to You-Know-Who.
"You!" He snarled, lunging at his brother. Sirius wasn't quite sure what he was planning to do, but the Auror guards grabbed him and started hauling him away long before he could touch his brother. "What are you doing here, you bastard, eh? Come to gloat how you won and I'm in here, when you're the bloody son of a bitch who should have a date with a Dementor?"
Even as angry as he was, Sirius still noticed the hurt look which had passed over his brother's eyes.
~§~
"Dangerous?" Harry asked. "How dangerous?"
"We're not entirely certain." Healer Vane said. "But better safe than sorry, right?" She tried for a weak grin.
"What is it?" Harry said, not believing her for a second.
Gideon went over to him and sat down next to him on the table.
"Mr. Potter, you were hit by the killing curse. You're the only person to have survived it—ever. We don't know what will happen, but we want it out. Do you trust the healers?"
Harry looked at Gideon with wide eyes. The killing curse? This sounded serious. Did he really trust the healers? He looked over at the three healers, who were standing a few feet away waiting for his answer. He thought about it—he'd never trusted anyone besides Ms. Anthony before. Could he try? Maybe once.
"Ok."
As soon as he answered, the Prewetts were ushered out of the room. The healers gathered around Harry, who was suddenly reminded of a movie scene. They raised their wands at Harry. Healer Barnes told him to close his eyes and not move.
Harry slowly did as he was told. He heard the healers start chanting something. At first, he didn't notice anything—but then his scar started to burn. It was as if something in his scar was trying to stay in his head, but something was determined to pull it out. He wanted to grab his head and yell, but something had made his body freeze. The pain grew worse with a sudden burst of heat, and then everything went black.
~§~
Six months later Sirius had managed to calm himself down. He was shocked to hear that his brother had visited him—again. But he wanted answers, and Sirius would get them.
Sirius sat at the wooden table, hands bound behind him. He was staring at Regulus, trying to decide if this was some sort of joke, or if he'd already gone mad. Regulus leaned forward slightly, straitening his shoulders.
"Sirius." He said coolly. "I understand this must be a shock. Nevertheless, I am here and alive." He lowered his voice, ignoring his brother's lack of response. "I know you probably won't believe me, but just ask a guard for a newspaper. I betrayed the dark lord, and ran away after stealing an object very dear to him. I was found by the Prewett brothers, and have allied with them. They have been helping me stay safe, and we have been attempting to get you a trial. We don't have long to talk here, brother, but I need to know if there is anything—anything—that can help us force a trial for you."
Sirius swallowed uncertainly. "You—you ran from him? But—why?"
"I joined to please our parents, you know that. At first, I agreed with the dark lord's ideals; I didn't like Muggles, and I thought wizards of old bloodlines should have superior power. I still do. But I don't condone the endless torturing and meaningless killing of both Muggles and wizards. The dark lord is a monster. He had what I felt were noble goals, but his ways of achieving them were horrendous and barbaric. I am ashamed that I fell into his trap. Frankly, I am quite startled that so many have chosen to stay with him. Activities like that are not fit for any civilized people."
Sirius blinked. "You still hate Muggles. Should've known. Why are you trying to get me a trial? You hate me. With me out of the way, you can have the lordship and the headship for yourself. Why do you want me free?"
"Because you are family. I would also appreciate having someone around who I know I can trust. As for the family titles, you should be grateful, Sirius, you know you never wanted them."
"What do you mean?"
"You were a disowned heir incarcerated for a grievous crime. While you were, I took both the lordship and headship. You should be grateful because not only do you hate politics, but I also welcomed you and Andromeda back into the family, and disowned Bellatrix after dissolving her marriage and obtaining the Lestrange vaults."
Sirius stared at him. "You—you're right. Thank you. I do hate politics."
"I know."
"And I am so proud to have you as a brother. My little Reggie is finally turning into a prankster!"
"Call me that again and I'll leave you here to rot."
~§~
Harry blinked his eyes open. He was in a white room, lying on a crisp, sheeted bed. There was a window to his right, with the curtains drawn open and bright sunlight shining through. He sat up, and promptly regretted it.
"Ow!" His scar ached as he recovered from the sudden burst of vertigo. Surprisingly, his head felt much lighter, like he'd had a headache for years and it suddenly lifted.
"Glad to see you're awake, Mr. Potter." Healer Barnes was sitting in a chair next to him, looking tired. "I'm sorry, that expulsion was much harder than we had originally anticipated."
"Is everyone ok?" Harry asked, not seeing the two other healers.
"Yes. Healer Danner's shift ended a few hours ago, but Healer Vane is still here, if you would like to see her. The Lords Prewett are here as well—I wouldn't let them in until I was sure you were awake. I did a final exam, and every trace of the residue is gone. I also gave you your inoculations while you were resting, so as soon as you feel up for it you may go."
Harry was surprised. He hadn't thought he'd been out for that long. "That's it?"
"You will return in two weeks for a final exam before you go to school. The Prewetts already have your potions, which you will take once in the morning and once before bed. Any questions?"
"No thanks. If I feel ok now, can I go?"
She smiled. "Yes, Mr. Potter. Healer Vane and the Lords Prewett are waiting at the door."
"Where am I?"
"You are in one of the other exam rooms. I thought you would be more comfortable here rather than on the table."
"Probably. Thanks, Healer Barnes."
Harry got to his feet unsteadily. He made it to the door and opened it, where the adults were waiting.
"Mr. Potter!" The Prewetts said happily in unison.
"Glad to see you're all fixed up." Fabian said with a grin.
"Mr. Potter," Healer Vane spoke up. "Are you sure you feel alright?"
Harry grinned. "Yeah, Healer Vane. In fact, I feel great! It's like a huge weight has been lifted out of my head. Thanks."
She smiled down at him. "Glad to hear it. May I ask you for a favor?" She turned slightly pink.
"What?"
"Well, you see, I know you're not used to your fame, but my nieces would be thrilled to know I met Harry Potter. Would you mind if I gave them an autograph?"
Harry looked at her blankly for a moment. An autograph? Oh, right. He was famous.
"Um…"
"Farilda is two years older than you, Matilda is one year younger than you, and Romilda is two years younger than her. I know they'd be ever so pleased, but if you don't want to, I understand."
Harry looked at the twins for advice. Gideon shrugged as if to say, 'your decision'. Fabian nodded.
"Um…alright." Harry said slowly. "But…I don't know how to write with a quill."
Healer Vane blinked. "Th-that's alright." She stammered. "We have Muggles come here sometimes, so we have—what do you call them?—bens, too."
"Pens." Fabian corrected her.
"Yes, pens, that's right." A pen and piece of parchment appeared out of thin air.
Harry's mouth dropped open. He numbly took the writing instruments from her, and signed his name.
"Thank you!" Healer Vane squealed. "Don't worry, I'll tell them I met you on the street—patient/healer confidentiality, after all." She winked, then was gone.
Gideon used a finger to close Harry's gaping mouth. "Stop drooling, kid. Gringotts is next."
~§~
Sirius had not been expecting that question. "Harry? Yeah, I—" His eyes widened in horror. "Oh no! I completely forgot about him! What—who raised him? Is he alright? Does he know the truth about me? Did you meet him?"
"Slow down." Regulus demanded. "Now, don't interrupt. Lily's sister and her husband raised him, but completely neglected him. He was raised by a Muggle librarian, and we met when Hagrid went to take him for his school supplies. He's scrawny and wary, but seems to be fine. I haven't told him anything about you yet, but I plan to find his godmother and attempt to get guardianship."
Sirius frowned. "Alice Longbottom. But I read in The Prophet about what happened."
"I'll speak to the regent, then." Regulus sighed. "Augusta is terrifying. I only hope she'll understand. However," he sat up straight and stared at his brother. "I have a plan. You need to escape so we can force a trial."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"
"When I leave, you're going to ask if I have parchment and a quill. You're really bored and want something to do; say you like to draw. I'll hand you a blood bag—when the guards open it, they'll see a quill, but when you slice your finger on the zipper, you'll find several nutrient and strengthening potions inside, along with a portkey. Tonight, turn into your animagus form and slide out from the bars. Take a potion and swim to shore. You'll be far enough away from here that the portkey will work. Understand?"
Sirius nodded, tears of relief sliding down his face. "Y—yes. Thanks, Regulus. You have no idea how much this means to me. You'll use Harry to force a trial through the Wizengamot?"
Regulus nodded. "Yes. Amelia Bones and the Prewetts are firmly on our side, and we should be able to sway many with Harry's influence. We'll be able to keep it up long enough to insinuate that a Most Ancient and Noble pureblood has been locked away without trial for years. Even Dumbledore and Fudge combined won't stand up to that."
Sirius grinned, using a grimy finger to wipe away the tears. "Thanks, Regulus."
Regulus didn't move as the guards came and started to take Sirius away. He knew he wouldn't be blamed for Sirius' disappearance; he always visited at this time, and besides, he was much too influential in the Wizengamot for his name to be brought up like that. If only he could convince the Potter boy to help, getting Sirius a trial would be a piece of cake.
As the guards grabbed him, Sirius said, "Wait!"
The Aurors looked startled. "What?" One asked.
"Regulus," Sirius asked. "I don't suppose you have some parchment and a spare quill? It's so boring here, and I'd like something to do—you know how I like to draw."
Regulus stood up smoothly, reaching inside his cloak. "I don't see why not."
The guards looked at each other in confusion. Obviously junior Aurors, Regulus thought. Bones would be disappointed.
"Er—let me see." The one demanded, reaching a hand out towards Regulus.
Regulus raised an eyebrow and handed him the small bag. The guard opened it and peered inside before handing it to Sirius, looking disappointed at not having found anything. Sirius took it and gave Regulus a subtle wink.
"Thanks, little brother. You have no idea how much this means to me."
Regulus wanted to hex his brother. If Sirius didn't shut up, they'd both be in trouble.
~§~
Once more, Harry strolled into Gringotts. It was just as impressive this time, although the goblins out front had changed. There were less people this time, as well. The morning rush must have been over, Harry realized. It was late afternoon now.
He followed the Prewetts up to the counter.
"Good day, sir." Gideon said to the teller. "May we speak with the Potter account manager, please?"
The goblin looked down at him. "One moment, please. Wrenchfang!"
A goblin came over. "This way, sirs." He said, heading towards one of the doors at the far back of the hall.
This time the door didn't lead to a set of dark tunnels—there was a small office inside. There was a long desk along the back, covered with stacks of parchment, and three chairs facing it. Wrenchfang ushered them in, and then left without a word. Gideon motioned for Harry to take the seat in the middle.
The goblin behind the desk looked up, and adjusted his golden glasses. "Yes?"
Fabian replied, "We're here to look at the Potter wills."
"And the states of the Potter vaults." Gideon added.
"I am Zipnip, the Potter accountant. Who are you?"
"Gideon and Fabian Prewett, and Harry Potter."
The goblin sat forward and stared at Harry. "Is it so? Young man, it has been over a decade since a Potter last sat in this office. Very well, I will see what I can—" He froze. "The state of the vaults? Ahh…that is correct. After October, 1981, no one came to tell me to unfreeze the vaults—and therefore, no statements. I apologize, Mr. Potter. That will be fixed at once."
"Could you send them to Regulus Black?" Gideon asked. "He's going to be acting as temporary guardian, and I believe Mr. Potter has a mail redirection ward on him."
Harry frowned. Mail redirection? Why was Mr. Black going to be his guardian? What were bank statements?
Both Fabian and the goblin reacted violently to Gideon's claim.
"What? You're kidding. Mail redirection wards are next to impossible." Fabian said.
"Lord Black? I believe I can do that. But mail redirection is a serious offence, Lord Prewett. May I ask why you think that?" Zipnip asked.
Gideon turned to Harry. "You said, despite your celebrity status, that until yesterday you had no notion that the wizarding world existed?"
"Yeah." Harry said.
"I know that you should have received hundreds of fan mail, at least, probably every year." Gideon said, causing Harry's jaw to drop. "I know our niece, Ginny, always sends you a card on your birthday. I imagine she is not the only one."
Harry shook his head. "No. I never got anything until my Hogwarts letters."
Zipnip sighed. "You will have to go to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for that. However, I can mail the statements to Lord Black. That won't be a problem, so long as Heir Potter agrees." He looked at Harry.
"Ok?"
"Excellent. Now that that's done with, Mr. Potter, you wanted to open your parents wills?"
Harry nodded, not daring to speak. Was he really going to see his parents wills? His mum and dad's? The goblin reached down and pulled open a drawer. He shuffled a few things around, and handed Harry a small package.
Harry slowly opened it with shaking hands. There were only a few sheets of paper. He opened it carefully, not wanting to risk damaging such a precious object.
"Mr. Potter?" Fabian asked. "Do you want us to leave?"
Harry shook his head. His hands had frozen. "I—I don't think I can do it."
Gideon glanced at Zipnip, who nodded. He reached over and plucked the papers out of Harry's clammy hands.
"The Final Will and Testament of James and Lily Potter." He read.
I, James Charlus Potter, being of somewhat sound mind and perfect body, hereby write my last will and testament on October 23rd, 1981.
James! I, Lily Maria Potter nee Evans, being of sound mind and body, do hereby write my last will and testament on October 23rd, 1981.
We hereby name the goblin Gringotts Potter accountant Zipnip to be our executor.
To Remus John Lupin, we leave 143,000 Galleons, and our residence in Wales known as 'Sandcastle'.
To Peter Joseph Pettigrew, if we die while under Fidelius, you get a lifetime in Azkaban. Otherwise, we leave you 7, 100 Galleons.
To Sirius Orion Black, we leave our residence of Godric's Hollow.
To Frank Neville Longbottom, we leave all of Lily's herbology notes, as well as her green house at Potter Manor.
To Alice Julia Longbottom, we leave 300 Galleons, and hope that you continue your dreams of becoming a healer.
To Severus Snape, we leave all of Lily's potion notes, and 2,500 Galleons.
To Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, we leave 10,000 Galleons for the upkeep of school brooms and the Quidditch Pitch.
To the Auror Force at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, we leave 5,000 Galleons to be used for the protection and training of the Auror force.
We will, devise, bequeath and give all the rest and remainder of our property and estates of every kind and character, including, but not limited to, real and personal property in which we may have an interest at the date of our death and which is not otherwise effectively disposed of, to our son, Harry James Potter.
We wish our son, Harry James Potter, to be raised by these people in following order:
His godfather, Sirius Orion Black
His godmother and her spouse, Alice Julia Longbottom and Frank Neville Longbottom
Peter Joseph Pettigrew, if he's not in Azkaban
Minerva Isobel McGonagall
Filius Filbert Flitwick
Never, under any circumstances, is Harry James Potter to go to Lily's sister, Petunia June Dursley nee Evans, or her spouse, Vernon Howard Dursley, or meet them in any way, shape, or form.
We hereby revoke any and all prior wills and codicils we have made.
Signed: James Charlus Potter
Signed: Lily Maria Potter nee Evans
Witness: Sirius Orion Black
Witness: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Witness: Peter Joseph Pettigrew
October 23rd, 1981
~§~
Harry stared uncomprehendingly at Gideon, who folded up the will and gingerly put it back into the folder. "They left me everything?" He whispered.
Fabian put his chin in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. "Pettigrew was secret keeper. That means Sirius is innocent."
Harry looked up. "Sirius Black? Is he some relation to Mr. Black?"
Fabian nodded. "Brother. I'm pretty sure that's where Regulus went."
"I was never supposed to go with the Dursleys!" Harry realized, outraged. "I don't know any of those other people, though."
"Remus Lupin was a friend of your dad's. Severus Snape," Fabian grimaced. "Used to be a friend of your mom's. They had a fight in school, and never made up, I think. The Longbottoms were good friends of theirs, but they were attacked by death eaters just a few days after your parents. They're in a permanent ward in St. Mungo's. Their son is about your age, his grandmother raised him. McGonagall and Flitwick are professors at Hogwarts—transfiguration and charms."
"You know something?" Gideon said slowly, obviously speaking to his brother. "Dumbledore witnessed this." They shared a look.
"Hey!" Harry said angrily. "Hagrid said he's the one who put me at the Dursleys! That's illegal!"
"He's also the one who sealed the wills." Zipnip added. "Unfortunately, he's Chief Warlock, so there's not much we can do."
"We're trying." Fabian said. "This is just more wood for the fire."
"What's Chief Warlock?" Harry demanded.
"Head of the Wizengamot." Gideon answered. "They're voted in, but pretty hard to get out."
"What can we do? I'm not going back to the Dursleys—ever. But I really want to talk to Ms. Anthony."
Zipnip's ears perked forward. "Who?"
"She took care of me when the Dursleys wouldn't." Harry answered. "Why can't Mr. Black's brother do anything? If he's my godfather—"
Gideon sighed. "Mr. Potter, you're godfather was framed for the betrayal of your parents to Voldemort—" Zipnip flinched at the name, "and has been in Azkaban, the wizard prison, ever since. Regulus and Amelia Bones, the head of magical law enforcement, have been trying for years to get him a trial, but Dumbledore won't allow it."
Harry's mouth dropped open. "What?"
"Regulus is probably going to try and use your influence to pull a trial through." Fabian said. "But anyway, because he's head of House Black, he can be your guardian. He might have to share with Augusta Longbottom, but she's stern, not mean, and it shouldn't be a problem."
Harry's head drooped. "I didn't have to stay at the Dursleys…" he raised his head. "Ms. Anthony always tried to get the Dursleys in jail for how they treated me. But everyone either forgot or disappeared. And now I never even had to go there…"
The adults' eyes widened. Zipnip sat forward. "Mr. Potter? Did you say they all forgot?"
Harry nodded glumly.
The Prewetts and the goblin shared a look.
"Dumbledore?" Fabian muttered.
"Possibly. Probably." Zipnip replied. "I want to stay in touch with Mr. Potter's happenings, would that be troublesome?"
"No." Gideon replied. "But—" he glanced at his watch. "It's late, and we should be going. Accountant Zipnip, thank you for your time. Mr. Potter, we should be going. You should be in bed soon."
The Prewetts managed to lug a still-shocked Harry to the Floo. Gideon whispered in his ear, "The Blacks live at #12 Grimmauld Place." And off they went.
~§~
Fred, George, Aries, and Rigel had been working hard all afternoon. With Kreacher's help, the boys had cleaned out an old guest room on the third floor, just across the hall from the twins' rooms. It was still dark, but it was clean and had a bed.
When they were done, they collapsed into the kitchen and asked Kreacher to make them sandwiches, which were quickly devoured.
"What do you think of Potter?" Aries asked.
Rigel frowned. "He's had a hard life, one that he shouldn't've had. But he did, and he seems tougher for it. He seems plenty smart, but he doesn't appear to trust a lot of people."
George nodded. "Yeah, but he obviously thinks a lot of that Muggle, Ms. Anthony."
Fred laughed. "Did you see Uncle Regulus' face when he said he'd been raised by Muggles? I thought he was going to blow up the table."
Aries cracked a grin. "Yeah, he wasn't too pleased. The Prewetts will ask Bones to tell her about us, though, so she can testify against those relatives of his."
"When do you think they're going to get back?" George asked, glancing at the clock.
"Dunno." Rigel shrugged. "It's almost eight-thirty—they'll be here soon."
As if on cue, the Floo went off in the entry room. Regulus called out, "Boys?"
"Here!" They shouted.
He entered the kitchen. "Tonight or tomorrow we're going to have a special visitor. A friend is sending his dog to stay with us. I'm not sure how long he'll stay, but I want you to treat him with the utmost respect. And don't let him get you in trouble."
The teens stared at him.
"A dog?" Fred asked. "Why?"
Regulus gave a wry smile. "You'll be calling him Padfoot."
The boys gasped.
"It'll be Sirius in his animagus form." He continued, ignoring the incredulous looks on the boys' faces. "Don't talk about it, don't tell anyone. You know nothing about the jail breakout that's about to occur."
Rigel raised an eyebrow. "I find it difficult to believe Uncle Sirius would be able to break out of Azkaban."
"He's not. This conversation never happened. Ah, Mr. Potter! I am glad to see—Gideon? Why is he broken?"
Fabian looked up and answered as Gideon laid Harry into a seat. "We just read the wills. Turns out, it was specifically stated that he stay far away from the Dursleys. He's in a bit of shock, and he's had a long day. Mind if we take him up to bed?"
Regulus waved his hand. "Go on. We can talk later."
"Fifth room on the right, third floor." Aries said helpfully. "How was St. Mungo's?"
The Prewetts exchanged glances.
"Ok." Gideon said. "But we need to get him to bed—and the four of you as well."
The boys burst into complaints, but Regulus slammed his hand on the table.
"Bed! Now. We'll talk in the morning."
The teens followed the Prewetts up the stairs, grumbling all the while.
~§~
"He had a horcrux in his head?" Regulus said incredulously. "The scar? A horcrux?"
Fabian nodded. "Yep. Healer Vane called it a soul leach, but that's the youngest daughter from a light lesser family. Danners and Barnes are both muggle-born—there's no way any of them would know what a horcrux is."
Regulus shook his head. "That's four horcruxes. Four. How many did he make?" He put his head in his hands and moaned.
"He couldn't have made more than seven." Gideon said thoughtfully. "That's the maximum number of times a soul can be split—but it's also a prime magical number, so I'll guess he wanted that, for the natural protection."
"Yeah, but where are the remaining three?"
"He might not have made them all yet." Gideon reminded him. "He vanished in his prime, and he couldn't make one in a wraith-form."
Fabian shook his head. "Anyway, what's this about breaking out Sirius? I admire the plan, but are we telling Amelia?"
"No." Regulus said. "She'll probably figure it out, but with the information in the wills, and Potter's influence, we'll get him a trial. I may have to bribe some people to make sure it's not thrown, though. You know someone will try and do it."
"What about that Muggle Potter mentioned? We can go over tomorrow, but I want Amelia there. It's kind of her job, after all—we don't need to get in trouble for breaking the Statute of Secrecy." Fabian said.
"Yeah, call her over." Regulus said. "She can bring Susan too. Potter needs someone his own age. He needs to finish getting his school supplies though—I can send out Kreacher for that. I want him more focused on getting things off the list; genealogy books, clothes, stuff like that."
Fabian snorted. "I highly doubt Amelia is going to be able to take him clothes shopping. Who will you call?"
"I can ask Narcissa, except that means he'll have to put up with Draco, and he's a brat. Perhaps Isobel Greengrass? She also has a daughter starting Hogwarts this year, and Daphne is polite. Harry could benefit from meeting with them."
"And guardianship?" Gideon asked. "You'll settle that with Amelia, obviously. I mean, it's already legal, you just have to let her know you're taking him."
Regulus nodded. "Yes, but I need to schedule a meeting with Augusta Longbottom. I think she might want split guardianship."
"Yeah, but Neville is Potter's age, too. You know, it might be best to throw a welcoming party, and have at it."
Regulus raised an eyebrow as he pondered this. "A semi-formal event, with children his own age. That could work."
Fabian yawned, and stood up. "Well, it really is getting late, and we'll have to be up early to catch Amelia. You coming, Gid?"
"Sure. Need any help with Sir—Padfoot?" Gideon asked.
"No. I'll go to bed now. He should be here in the morning—Merlin knows he knows how to get in."
"The Fidelius won't bother him?"
"I've told him the secret before, and we haven't changed it since."
"Right then." Fabian said, clapping his hands together. "Tomorrow, we meet some Muggles. How fun."
AN: Next, we meet Ms. Anthony! I know you've all been waiting for that.