Chapter 5

Acquiring Acquisitions

The days passed uneventfully. Harry spent most of his time locked away in the Black library, which he accidentally discovered during his explorations of the house.

The Black house on Grimmauld place was not large, but it was big. It also held a lot of secrets; underground passages and rooms, hidden spaces behind walls that could be moved with a password. Certainly, it was not at the level of Hogwarts, but the number of secret areas within the house were numerous enough that Harry was sure he hadn't discovered all of them.

Sirius tried to talk with him, to bond, Harry assumed, but he'd rebuffed the man at every turn. There was no point in bonding with others. This was a lesson that he had already learned. He would help clear Sirius's name, but he was only doing it because his parents' traitorous former friend was living in the world, free. Just the thought of Pettigrew being allowed another second of freedom made his blood boil.

Of course, he couldn't ignore Sirius all the time. The old dog was a loose cannon, reckless and incapable of thinking ahead. If Harry didn't keep him in check, then Sirius Black would likely go off on his own and get killed-or have his soul sucked out by dementors.

It was Sunday morning. There were only three weeks left of the summer holiday. Harry had already done most of his shopping. He had all of the books he needed, plus several extras, and he'd bought all of the supplies that would be required for Hogwarts this year-or so he believed.

He'd never received the letter detailing what he needed to buy. Harry assumed this was because of the Fidelius Charm that had been placed around the house. Only himself and Sirius knew about the house now, as the secret of its whereabouts had been wiped from the minds of everybody else. Without knowing the house's location, sending an owl to tell him what supplies he needed to buy was impossible.

Harry sat at the dining room table that morning, reading through a book he'd found in Knockturn Alley. It detailed the creation of a homunculus through the use of potions. He didn't intend on creating a potion homunculus, though, since it would only be an empty vessel. That's not what he needed.

A plate appeared in front of Harry; scrambled eggs, turkey sausage and orange juice. It looked much better than the house elf's first few attempts. Harry was glad that he'd decided to teach Kreecher how to cook.

"Here you are, Master," Kreacher bowed to him.

"Thank you."

"Of course, Master. Can Kreacher get you anything else?"

"Not at the moment, no. Go and get some rest. You've been working hard."

"Master is too kind."

With a bow, Kreecher disappeared with a pop.

Harry continued to read, munching on his food. Even though he had no intention of creating a homunculus with potions, the knowledge of homunculi was still invaluable. It might even help him with his own plans.

"NNOOOOOOO!"

Just then, a loud scream echoed throughout the house. Harry looked up from his book. The yell, which contained the anguish that only came when someone lost what they cherished most, had come from Sirius Black's room.

Sirius, Harry had learned, suffered from nightmares. Every night, the older man would wake up screaming. Sometimes he would scream names, but most of the time, his screaming was unintelligible. Harry wondered if this was the result of being near dementors for so long, or if the loss of his best friend was what really shook Sirius up.

The screams died down, and Harry went back to his reading. Several minutes later, however, more screaming came to him, this time from the hallway.

"Why can't you be more quiet, dirty mongrel?!"

"Shut up, you old hag! You're the one who needs to stop talking!"

"H-h-how dare you, you insolent fool! This is why you were disowned! You're nothing but a disrespectful cretin!"

"Ha! This coming from the foul-mouthed harpy who disrespects everyone who talks to her!"

Harry sighed as Wilburga and Sirius argued. Again. It was a near daily occurrence, their shouting matches. It had gotten to the point where Harry often went out of the house, just so he wouldn't have to deal with their constant childish bickering.

Like mother like son, I guess.

Standing up, Harry placed a bookmark within his book, closed it, and wandered into the hallway, where Sirius and Wilburga were arguing.

"Bitch!"

"Mutt!"

"Whore!"

"Traitorous swine!"

Their argument had devolved into childish name calling.

"I hope you two finish arguing soon," Harry said. The human and the portrait froze. "I was enjoying a nice book when you two started quarrelling."

"Ah, H-Harry," Sirius squeaked. "H-how are you this fine, um, morning?"

Harry smiled, but it wasn't a very nice smile.

"I'm doing fine. I was reading this rather fascinating book, when I heard yelling coming from this hallway. It interrupted my reading."

Sirius and Wilburga gulped. They had learned early on that Harry did not like to have his reading interrupted, or his studying, or his experiments, or anything, really. The few times their arguments had gotten really foul, Harry had punished them in the most humiliating manner possible. Not even Wilburga, who was just a portrait, had gotten away unscathed. Harry somehow managed to find a spell that affected even magical portraits.

"So-sorry about that, Harry," Sirius apologized.

"Apologies, My Lord." Wilburga bowed to him. "It seems that, in the wake of hearing my foul son's loathsome screaming, I had forgotten myself. It won't happen again."

Harry nodded, accepting their apologies.

"See to it that it doesn't." He paused. "Wilburga, tell me, has there been any word from Nigellus?"

Portraits were interesting in that, so long as they were connected, those within the portraits could travel to the connected ones. Phineas Nigellus Black, whose portrait was located inside of Albus Dumbledore's office, had a connecting portrait here at Grimmauld Place, which meant all of the other portraits, including Wilburga's, were connected to his.

"There has, My Lord. It seems that Albus Dumbledore is still searching for you and the mutt. Amelia Bones has been seen coming and going from his office several times, along with Alastor Moody. They are still heading the search."

Harry had suspected that they wouldn't give up so easily. Amelia Bones had an invested interest in his safety, and Headmaster Dumbledore was the type who wouldn't let one of his students go unaided when he thought they needed help. Being the Boy-Who-Lived also meant that, should he not be found, their reputation could be dragged through the mud. The Daily Prophet was already vilifying them for not finding him.

People can be so stupid. As if they could really be blamed for not finding me. If everyone wants me to be found so badly, then perhaps they should begin searching themselves.

It always amazed Harry to see how the sheep responded to what was happening in the world. Whenever something went wrong, they were always quick to blame others for not being vigilant enough. They never took responsibility themselves, as if the idea of holding themselves accountable was antithesis to them.

"Is there anything else that I should know?" Harry asked.

"Just one more issue," Wilburga replied. "It seems there will be dementors at Hogwarts this year."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Dementors were abominable monsters that guarded Azkaban Prison. They fed off the happiness of others, and were infamous for their ability to suck out the souls of humans via the Dementor's kiss. For them to be playing host at Hogwarts was…

"This does not strike me as an idea that Headmaster Dumbledore would permit."

"It isn't," Wilburga answered quickly. "It appears to have been proposed by Minister Fudge, though I somehow doubt that idiotic fool could have thought of this on his own. More than likely, this idea came from Lucius Malfoy."

That made much more sense. Lucius Malfoy, head of the Malfoy family, was a devious snake with a gilded tongue and a keen mind. An idea like this could only come from someone like him.

But the question still remains, why have dementors at Hogwarts? Is it to catch Sirius Black?

The idea didn't seem plausible. Sirius Black had no reason to go to Hogwarts-at least, not any that Lucius would know about. Although, no one knew that Sirius and Harry were together. Perhaps dementors were being sent there under the assumption that he would show up, and Sirius Black would follow him? It was possible, but still not the most viable sounding reason.

"That could pose a problem," Harry muttered.

"Uh, Harry?" Sirius said.

"Thank you for informing me of this. Please keep me posted on anything else that you uncover."

"Of course, My Lord."

"Harry?"

"Follow me, Sirius. We'll need to conceive a plan to counteract this new development."

Harry wandered back to the kitchen, Sirius trailing behind him. They sat down at the dining room table, Harry in front of his meal, while Sirius chose to sit opposite of him. Despite his ashen pallor and sweaty face, the man looked much better than he had when Harry first confronted him.

A meal appeared before Sirius; a traditional English breakfast, along with several potions. Sirius dug into the meal. He didn't touch the potions.

"It seems we're going to have a few more problems than we initially anticipated," Harry said. "We'll need to revise our original plan to deal with this new threat."

Their original plan called for Sirius Black to travel ahead of Harry and journey to Hogsmeade, a small wizarding town not too far from Hogwarts. Once there, Sirius would find a place where he could hide until Harry contacted him again. With dementors on the loose, that was no longer a safe option.

"I fesh sho," Sirius mumbled between mouthfulls of food.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Has being in your dog form for so long made you forget about manners? Don't speak with your mouth full."

Sirius swallowed his food, then gave Harry a sheepish grin. "Sorry."

Harry ignored Sirius's childish antics. "The dementors are going to be searching for you, which means you traveling to Hogsmeade and hiding out until we're ready to capture Pettigrew is no longer an option."

"Then what should we do?"

Rubbing his chin, Harry thought the problem over. He'd originally wanted to wait until Ron went to Hogsmeade, then ambush him with Sirius and capture Pettigrew. Afterward, they would bind, cage, and then send a fully human and perfectly alive Peter Pettigrew to the Department of Law Enforcement.

Harry believed that if Amelia Bones was given undeniable proof of Sirius's innocence, such as a living Pettigrew, she would call off the search for him. After that, Sirius could turn himself in, and then, with Harry's influence, he would be given a fair trial and acquitted of his crime.

However, with dementors now being stationed at and around Hogwarts, they would need to come up with a new plan. Their old one wouldn't work.

I'll need to think on this later, Harry thought as he glanced at the clock. It was nearing the time where he had to leave.

He was about to stand up and get ready, but he paused when he saw that Sirius had yet to drink his potions.

"Sirius, your potions. Why haven't you drank them?"

The potions sitting beside Sirius's chair were ones that Harry had made for him. When they'd first met, Sirius had been so skinny that he looked like a concentration camp victim. Actually, he still looked like one. Those potions were specially made magical nutrient intake potions that were custom for Sirius. Harry judged that Sirius be back to full physical health after taking three months worth of these potions.

"Hm, oh, yeah, these. Don't worry. I'll drink them. I just don't want to drink them on an empty stomach."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"You're lying. Drink them now before I leave."

"Do I have to?" Sirius wined.

"Yes."

"But-"

"Don't but me. Drink your potions."

"Don't wanna!"

"Damn it, Sirius Black! Drink your potions!"

"Not gonna do it!"

As the childish argument continued, Harry grew more frustrated, to the point where it felt like his head was going to spontaneously combust. There was a fierce burning inside of his noggin. Pressure around his skull caused him to see red. All the while, a voice whispered into the back of his mind.

A cold blanket settled over him.

"Sirius Black, if you do not drink those potions right now, I am going to shove them so far down your throat you'll be crapping glass for months. Now drink. Those. Potions."

Sirius Black could not drink his potions fast enough.

XoX

Madam Amora's shop looked exactly as he remembered. The cluttered room revealed itself to him as he pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the threshold. Tables and stands covered by magical items littered the floor. Articles of all kinds buzzed and whirred, smoked and bubbled. Harry still didn't know what half of these artifacts did, but he could feel the magic surrounding them.

"You have returned, child."

Harry turned around. Mada Amora stood in the entryway to the back room. Clothing covered her from head to toe. Dark and heavy, her purple robes were covered in accoutrements that hung from the fabric, decorating what would have been an otherwise plain outfit. Two yellow eyes glowed like twin moons, visible beneath a cowl that covered the rest of her face. As always, the woman carried a mystical air about her.

The woman paused upon seeing him. Despite being disguised using several powerful charms, Harry felt almost like she could see right through them.

"I see that you have faced many hardships recently." She tilted her head. "I shan't ask about what difficulties you have been through. What brings you back to my store, young one?"

"I'm need of your talents," Harry replied, pulling out a small necklace with a golden pendant attached to it. "I would like you to enchant this."

"As expected, but what sort of enchantments do you wish to be placed on it?"

"The kind to make me invisible."

Madam Amora paused. "Invisibility is not an enchantment that can be done easily, or even truly, for it is impossible to render one invisible without the aid of an invisibility cloak. Even the most powerful of invisibility charms do not render one truly invisible."

"I am aware of that," Harry responded. "What I meant was that I would like you to enchant this so that the eyes of others slide over me when they look in my direction, sort of how a warding charm keeps regular humans away."

"Ah, now that is something that is within my power to accomplish," Madam Amora said. "Though it will still cost a good deal of money. Enchantments like that are powerful, and they require at least a week to prepare, especially if you want them done right."

"That's fine. There are still three weeks before I need it."

"So I see," Madam Amora murmured. Harry felt a moment of discomfort as her yellow eyes pierced him, however, he shoved these feelings aside and stared right back, earning a nod of approval from the woman, who held out her hand. "Hand me the pendant. I shall begin enchanting it within two days time, during the next full moon. That will increase the potency of the enchantment. It should be done before the next lunar cycle."

"Thank you."

Harry handed Madam Amora the pendant. After gazing at it for a moment, the mysterious woman nodded and pocketed the object within her robes.

Harry was about to leave, when Madam Amora spoke up, startling him.

"There are many people searching for you, young one," she started. "I do not know why you have disappeared from the public eye, nor do I understand what it is you hope to gain with these enchantments. I shall not ask either, as it is not my place to know such things. However, please take this piece of advice to heart. It does not matter how far or how fast you run. No one can escape from their own darkness. If you do not confront yourself, and soon, then you may very well lose that which makes you unique."

Harry stood in the doorway for several seconds, his fists clenched.

Are you going to let her speak to you like that?

He closed his eyes, nostrils flaring as he fought the urge to yell.

Come now, teach this woman a lesson. Show her what it means to cross someone as powerful as yourself.

Taking several deep breaths, Harry centered himself.

No, he said before leaving the store and venturing into the streets beyond.

XoX

Returning home after hiring Madam Amora, Harry was greeted to a mercifully silent house. He had expected Sirius and Wilburga to be arguing again, so not seeing them shouting in each other's faces was very much a blessing in disguise.

Entering the kitchen, Harry found Sirius Black grumpily sitting at the table, eating a sandwich, a shot of fire whiskey sitting beside his plate. He looked petulant. Harry wondered if perhaps the man had been fighting with Wilburga and lost, and now he was sulking as a result.

Not that it matters to me.

"Oh, Harry." Sirius brightened upon seeing him. "Finished your tasks?"

Harry sat down, and a plate of various meats and cheeses appeared in front of him. "I did. I've also had a chance to think about how we're going to deal with the dementor situation. I believe I've come up with a workable solution."

"Really? That's good, cuz I've been thinking about what we should do, too." Sirius took a bite out of his sandwich. "I was thinking that I could travel to Hogsmeade in my dog form, and simply stay in that form until we come up with a plan to capture Pettigrew."

Dementors were interesting in that, while they sucked out all the happiness of humans, they couldn't tell the difference between an animal and an animagus-and since they had no interest in animals, an animagus could slip past a dementor with little trouble.

Harry wondered about that. Was it because an animagi's thought process wasn't that much different from a regular animals? It was true that when someone was in their animagus form, their thoughts were a lot different, simpler, in a way. Perhaps the thoughts of an animagi were so simple that dementors simply couldn't sense them.

An interesting theory, but that's all it is. Until I can find some way to test that theory, which isn't likely, there's no way for me to discover whether or not it's true.

There was one way to test this idea: Follow through with Sirius Black's plan by having him go to Hogsmeade in his animagus form. If the dementors didn't give Sirius the kiss, then Harry would know his theory was correct. However, if Sirius did travel to Hogsmeade, and the dementors did kiss him, then everything they'd done up to this point would be meaningless.

"No," Harry said.

Sirius paused. "No?"

"No, you won't be going to Hogsmeade. With dementors now on the loose, you cannot afford to be careless. You're going to stay here while I go to Hogwarts, and only after I have Pettigrew in my custody and the dementors have been recalled to Azkaban, will you leave Grimmauld Place."

Sirius looked like someone had just told him that James Potter had risen from the grave. His face was pale. "You can't be serious!"

"I am quite serious."

"This is going to put you in danger!"

"I doubt it. The dementors aren't looking for me. They're looking for you. If anything, you coming to Hogsmeade in your animal form is going to place me in more danger."

"I'm not talking about the dementors! I'm talking about Pettigrew!"

Harry almost snorted. "Is that what you're worried about? I have been going to school for two years now, and Pettigrew has been here ever since I started. Not once has he attacked or otherwise attempted to inflict harm upon me. This leads me to believe that he has no intentions for me one way or the other. Most likely, Pettigrew is simply disguising himself as the Weasley's family rat to keep a low profile. Weren't you the one who told me that he's a yellow-bellied coward?"

"That isn't the point!"

Standing up, Sirius slammed his hands against the table. Harry stared at his godfather with a calm gaze, as if unbothered by the older man's agitation.

"Then what is the point?"

"You still don't know what Pettigrew might do! That rat might be a coward, but he's good at looking after his own skin! He might hurt you if it means protecting himself."

"And what would he have to protect himself from?" Harry spread his arms wide, as if to emphasize his point. "No one is looking for him aside from you."

Sirius faltered. "He could… there could be others. You don't know what can happen in the future, Harry! For all we know, something could happen that forces Pettigrew to act. He might be a coward, but he's really good at looking after his own hide."

"Which is all the more reason for you not to show up," Harry said mildly. "Right now, you are the only danger to Pettigrew. If you showed up at Hogsmeade and he saw you, then he'd be liable to take drastic actions."

"That's…"

"Furthermore, Pettigrew knows about your animagus form. I'm sure that he would recognize you in it. This means that you won't be able to travel much. You'll be in more or less the same position at Hogsmeade that you're in here-except you won't have the comfort of a home. You'll be stuck somewhere outside of Hogsmeade, like in a cave or some other subterranean location."

"That doesn't matter! Your safety comes before my own!"

Harry twitched. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, held it, then slowly let it out.

"I appreciate that you want to protect me, Sirius, truly. However…" Harry opened his eyes, which were sharper than a pair of blades. "… you presume too much. I'm not some weak child who needs saving."

"That's… I didn't mean…"

"If anything," Harry continued, "the person who needs protection right now is you, not me."

Sirius grew silent, and Harry knew that he had the man trapped. While there were, indeed, people who were after Harry, none of them were malignant-Headmaster Dumbledore, Madam Bones, the Ministry of Magic… they were worried about his safety, and once he showed up at Hogwarts, they'd have no need to detain him. He might be asked questions, but Harry already had a plan for that.

Speaking of which…

"Kreacher."

"The young master calls for Kreacher?"

"I need a calligraphy pen, a sheet of parchment, an envelope, and a seal."

Kreecher snapped his fingers and all of the supplies Harry asked for appeared.

"Thank you."

"Of course, young master."

Giving a bow, Kreecher disappeared with a pop. Sirius stared at the spot the house elf vacated.

"Why is it that he calls you young master but still calls me filth?" he asked no one in particular.

"Because you still call him shit eater?" Harry suggested as he grabbed the calligraphy pen and began to write. "Perhaps you should consider treating him with respect."

"Just whose side on you on here?"

"I don't take sides."

"But I'm your godfather!"

"Oh? Are you? This is news to me. Aren't godfather's supposed to take care of their god children in the event that something happens to their parents?"

Sirius flinched. "That was a low blow, Harry."

Harry shrugged and continued writing his letter.

Dear NF,

Thank you for your help last year. I learned a great deal under your tutelage.

I regret to ask this of you, but I was wondering if you could help me once more. I am in need of a pensieve, but have been unable to find one. I would like to know if you have any knowledge on where I could acquire one.

Best regards,

HP

It was a short, simple letter, but Harry knew that Flamel wasn't one for reading long letters. The man had a short attention span for anything that wasn't alchemy or his wife.

Reaching out with his mind, Harry tried to call for Hedwig. When she didn't come, he frowned, then tried again. She still didn't come.

What is going on? I know that Hedwig and I haven't been on the best of terms for some reason, but she's always responded to my calls…

We don't need her anyway. She's a burden, just like everybody else. It'll only hurt more when she dies. Better to let her go now before that happens.

… Yes, that's right. Hedwig is a burden. If something happened to her, if she died, then… perhaps it's better this way.

Harry nodded several times to himself. He didn't need Hedwig. She might have been able to deliver this message, but there were other ways to acquire a pensieve that didn't involve contacting the Flamels.

He'd been hoping to avoid going there, because he was sure there were guards stationed around it, but it looked like a trip to Gringotts was in order.

XoX

Ragnok was not just the personal banker for some of the most affluent citizens of the wizarding world. He was also a warrior of incredible skill. Having lived for many long years, he'd taken part in the very last goblin rebellion. Although they had lost that war, it was during this rebellion that he had distinguished himself, and it was thanks, in part, to his skills that goblins were granted the right of handling the wizards money.

Sitting behind his desk, Ragnok worked diligently on his reports. He didn't understand why humans hated paperwork. It might take up a good chunk of time to complete, but filing these papers meant putting more cash in one's pockets, which was never a bad thing.

A knock at the door interrupted his task. Ragnok cast it an irritated glare, but quickly calmed himself. No one would be foolish enough to intrude on him while he was working, not unless they had a good reason.

"Enter."

The door creaked open and Griphook entered the room.

"Director Ragnok, there is… someone here to see you."

The way Griphook spoke, the odd inflection in his voice, made Ragnok pause. There was something about this guest that unsettled Griphook-a rare feat indeed. While the young goblin had never been tested in combat, he had a stout heart. For something to bother him… well, it was unusual.

"Send them in," Ragnok ordered. He would see what made this person disquiet Griphook for himself.

Griphook nodded and left. Not even a minute later, someone else entered the room. Cloaked from head to toe in black, the figure's clothing seemed to soak in all the light around them, leaving the areas they tread gray and dull. The cowl they wore covered their face in shadows, but Ragnok could see vivid green eyes pierce that veil.

"Take off your cloak," Ragnok demanded. "I won't deal with someone who hides themselves."

The figure paused, then, with glacial slowness, raised their hands, grabbed the hood of their cloak, and pulled it off, revealing a head of raven hair and a lightning bolt scar.

"Director Ragnok," Harry's voice was sharp, cold even.

"Heir Apparent, Lord Harry Potter."

Ragnok studied the young man. Much had changed about him. Where once there had been a vibrancy, a life, now there was only darkness. Intelligent green eyes contained a glacial coldness they had lacked the last time they'd conversed, and a face that once seemed excited and enthusiastic appeared to have become hewn in stone.

However, Ragnarok did not care for such things. He was a businessman, and though Harry Potter impressed him, he did not care about the boys personal problems.

"To what do I owe the honor of your visit? I have already sent you your bi-monthly report. All of your holdings are doing well. We've managed to turn a thirty percent profit."

"I am aware," Harry said, coming to stand in front of his desk. "I am here for another reason. Information."

"Ah."

So that's what this was about. This wasn't unexpected. The goblins were a font of knowledge about certain… black market activities. If someone wanted something found, or they were looking for something that couldn't be obtained through legal means, then the smart ones came to the goblins. However…

"And what is it you are searching for?"

"A pensieve."

Pensieves were magical devices used to store and relive memories. They were quite useful, especially when you wanted to see your own memory from an outsider's perspective, or view the memory of someone else. They were also quite rare. Being a ministry regulated item, and something that only a few people in the entire world could make, finding one for personal use was difficult.

"I know of where you can get a pensieve. However, you realize that such information comes with a price, yes?"

The reason witches and wizards didn't come to the goblins for information was because it cost money. They didn't like the thought of paying goblins. Only the smart ones, who knew that a goblin could find anything they required, came to them.

Harry nodded. "I am aware, and I am willing to pay your price."

Ragnok grinned. "In that case, we have an agreement. It's nice to see that you still know how business works, Lord Potter."

The smile that Harry Potter gave Ragnok was cold.

That expression of his… it is almost befitting of a goblin, Ragnok thought as they got down to business.

XoX

Ragnok did not have a pensieve that Harry could buy. However, he did know of a place where a pensieve could be acquired.

Diagon Alley was not the only magical community within Britain. While it was most certainly the largest, being smack in the center of London, there were at least a dozen other communities sparsely dotting the countryside. Some of these communities even had shops that sold items you couldn't get in a large place like Diagon Alley.

Items like a pensieve.

Serpent's Avenue was one such place. It was a tiny place, nothing at all like Diagon Alley. There were only a dozen or so people wandering through it. The shops were nowhere near as decorative. They lacked the aesthetic appeal that Diagon Alley had, and the magic in this place was far weaker, which Harry assumed was due to a lack of witches and wizards in treading upon its cobblestone road.

Harry wandered down the road, eying the shops. They were all old buildings, though there didn't seem to be anything wrong with them. Each building showed its age. The roofs were rickety and their colors dull, the walls had minor cracks in them as reparo charms wore off, and some buildings had mold growing along the bottom. He supposed this was what happened to smaller alleys. The lack of massive customers meant they didn't have as much money to maintain their storefronts. It wouldn't surprise him if this place went out of business eventually.

It's a shame, really. Places like this can hold secrets that places like Diagon Alley could never have.

He'd changed his appearance to that of a young man with blond hair, blue eyes and an upturned nose. The robes he wore were nice, but plain. His scar was invisible, having been covered with makeup. He'd also been forced to use contacts to change his eye color, since magic didn't seem to work on them.

The store that Harry was looking for didn't look much different from the other stores. It was a one-story building built in the shape of a square. The walls were made of aged brick. Shades of red gave it a multi-faceted appearance. A glass display was next to the door, showcasing a variety of used brooms and other magical appliances. Above the door was the store's name: Mickie's Used Magical Appliances.

He walked into the store. Isles greeted him-isles containing any number of odds and ends, knick knacks, some that he'd seen and some that he hadn't. There was a lot of variety in this store, more so than other stores he'd been into.

Used shops like this always have a wider selection, but their items aren't as new. It's a trade off, I suppose.

"Welcome to my shop," a man greeted as he walked in. Harry gave the person credit. They only faltered a little when his eyes landed on them. "What can I get for you, young man? I've recently got a new broom cleaning kit straight off the market. It was quite the find, if I do say so myself."

"I am not here for broom cleaning kits," Harry said. The shop owner flinched. "I am looking for something a little more esoteric and difficult to acquire than a mere broom cleaning kit."

"S-so I see." The man took a hesitant step back. "What exactly are you looking for, then?"

"I have been told that you have a pensieve currently within this shop. I would like to buy it from you."

It was interesting to see the look of shock etch itself upon the man's face. Skin became ashen pale as his eyes widened.

"I-I don't-"

"Please do not say that you don't know what I'm talking about, when you clearly do know what I'm talking about." Harry stared at the man, who'd broken out into a minor sweat. "I do not enjoy being lied to."

The man's shoulders slumped. "How did you find out about that?"

"Why did you try to hide that you had it?" Harry returned with a smile. The man's eyes widened. "Oh, dear. Could it be that you have an unregistered pensieve in your possession? You do know that's illegal, don't you?"

Pensieves were ministry regulated items. To own, buy, or sell one, a person needed to get ministry approval, which required paying a fee for a certificate and signing a magically binding contract. Not having a certificate could earn someone a several month stay in Azkaban Prison-that was how serious an offense this was considered.

"Look… I got this by accident," the man started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't even know what it was until after I got it. I don't want any trouble."

"Then you'll let me buy it off you?" Harry said.

The man grimaced. "I suppose I have no choice."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad we understand each other."

On Harry's demand, the man went into the back and came back carrying a large box. The fact that he wasn't floating it, and was instead struggling to carry it, told Harry that it was most likely the pensieve. As a powerful magical artifact, any spell cast on it was negated. This included levitation charms.

"Please set the box down," Harry instructed. "I would like to look at the contents… to make sure the pensieve works, you understand."

"Right," the shop owner seemed resigned to his fate.

Harry opened the box and peered inside. Resting within the box was a large bowl-shaped object. Gray sediment lent it a dull appearance, but that didn't fool Harry, who could feel the magic swirling around it. Lining the inside of the pensieve, several hundred runes were engraved upon its surface, esoteric symbols that not even he could make complete sense of.

There didn't appear to be any cracks upon a cursory glance. He would need to take it out of the box to do a more thorough search, but this was definitely a pensieve and, from the magic coming off it, it was still in working order.

This will work.

"How much do you want for the pensieve?" Harry asked.

"E-excuse me?"

"Pensieves normally cost around twenty-thousand galleons, correct?" Harry pulled out his bag of money. "Will twenty-five thousand be sufficient?"

"Um, y-yeah, that should work fine."

Harry nodded and pushed the bag into the man's hand. Then he took out his wand.

"Now, then, let's finish this deal off with a proper magical vow to ensure our continued security. After all, it wouldn't do if we could reveal each other's secrets yes?"

Harry smiled at the man, who looked like he'd just swallowed a lemon.

XoX

Sirius frowned as he stood in the doorway of Harry's bedroom. It was, like all the bedrooms here, decked out in the green and silver of Slytherin. No matter how many times he demanded the color be changed, that blasted house elf refused to listen to him. Kreacher might have listened to Harry, but his godson didn't seem to care about the color scheme like he did.

"So, I really can't come with you?"

"Of course not," Harry said. "We've already been over this. Not only would you coming to Hogsmeade put you in more danger, it would put me in danger, too. Until this situation is resolved and dementors are called back, you need to stay here."

Harry packed his supplies in the new trunk that he'd bought. Sirius didn't know half of the stuff his godson was putting in there. One of the objects even looked like a giant stone bowl!

He's nothing at all like I expected him to be.

Granted, Sirius didn't know what he'd been expecting when Harry saw him that time in the alley. However, it certainly hadn't been this boy, who seemed to be filled with darkness and pessimism. This young man acted nothing like James or Lily.

I wonder if that's my fault?

Sirius knew about Harry's personal life. The boy didn't say anything, but he remembered the one and only time he'd ever met Petunia. If the woman had acted like he remembered, then Harry's home life must have been horrible. That he was still sane stood as a testament to the boy's will.

What would have happened if he, Sirius, had not gone off and gotten himself arrested? Would he have raised Harry, granting the boy a chance to live a better life? Probably.

Come on, Sirius! Buck up! You might not have been there for Harry back then, but you can be here for him now!

"I won't try to stop you," Sirius said. "If there's one thing you and your parents have in common, it's your stubbornness, and Merlin knows I could never stop them when they decided on something."

Perhaps it was his imagination, but Sirius thought he saw a smile on Harry's face. He blinked and it was gone. He must have been seeing things.

"I'm glad to hear that. This will work out for the best anyway. It would be a pain for you to keep hidden in Hogsmeade. Knowing you, you'd try to go after Pettigrew yourself and have your soul sucked out."

Sirius winced. "That's a mean thing to say about your godfather."

"That doesn't make it any less true."

He's got me there.

"Look, just promise me you'll be careful, okay?"

Harry stopped packing. Slowly, he turned to Sirius, regarding him with those cold eyes. Sirius tried not to shiver, but it was difficult. Harry's eyes reminded him so much of the killing curse, glowing green with an almost deathly cold, that a chill ran down his spine.

"Your concern is appreciated, but you needn't worry about me, Sirius. I will be taking every precaution in my dealings at Hogwarts this year." Harry turned back to the trunk and finished packing. "There will be no screw ups."

Sirius watched Harry for a little while longer, but the guilt of knowing that Harry acted like this because of him became too much, and he soon left the young man to finish his packing.

I'm sorry, James, Lily. This is all my fault.

Sirius marched up to his room, closing the door behind him and walking over to the desk. An object sat upon the dark mahogany table, glimmering as light reflected off its surface. He grabbed it and brought it to his face, staring at his own reflection.

But I swear to you, I won't let Harry go it alone anymore. From here on out, I'll be the godfather that I always should have been.

On that night, Sirius Black made a vow.

Unfortunately, he didn't know how well he'd be able to keep that vow.

Life, after all, rarely works out as planned.

Have you guys missed this story? I apologize for not updating in so long. Honestly, it's very difficult keeping up with every story I'm writing right now. I'm beginning to regret writing for so many fanfics. In either event, I hope you enjoyed this story.

Oh! Before I forget. Any of you who have an account on Goodreads can earn a chance to win a signed copy og my third book, A Fox's Maid. I'm not allowed to give links on here, I'm afraid, but if you go onto Goodreads and search for A Fox's Maid, you can sign up an enter. The competition starts in 6 days.

Thank you all for reading this story.