Chapter 28 - A warm? welcome
As he had expected, neither Ron nor Hermione reacted well to the news of Sirius coming to Hogwarts, for different reasons. Ron was still a bit sour at the man for not apologising in person for the broken leg even though Sirius had come to the burrow in person - despite Harry reminding him of that Pigwidgeon had been the apology-gift already - and Hermione was worried about Sirius bringing Harry in danger. Neither was comparable to Barty though, who didn't want to hear a word about 'that damned dog' after, so Harry tried to avoid the topic of Sirius altogether. Considering that he barely saw Barty outside of class with the amount of work he had, it wasn't very difficult. Easter holidays kept creeping closer, and Dumbledore's prolonged absence was prevalent, making several of the teachers quite antsy and arising suspicion among the guests of the castle, according to Dixie, Fleur and Viktor.
Harry had not hung out much with the other Champions anymore after the parties were over, all of them concentrating rather on schoolwork. While Cedric and he didn't need to worry about exams, Fleur and Viktor were both in their seventh year and had to at least take their countries' equivalents of N.E.W.T.'s before the summer holidays would start. Harry seriously wondered how they would manage. He supposed that for the both of them, this was the perfect time to study, now nothing was known yet anyways about the third task. Considering that this wasn't like the first one, where they were supposed to go in blind and had to scramble for info by themselves, it would be foolish to not wait till they received the promised intel freely.
At the moment, he was sitting in the library, close to the window to enjoy the rare sunbeams of late March. It would only be a couple of days now until he would see Sirius again... His friends were sitting opposite of him, bickering a bit about the homework they'd received from Barty. Hermione was convinced that Ron didn't pronounce the spell correctly again, while Ron stubbornly persisted on not taking Hermione's advice in Defence Against the Dark Arts since it was the only subject she didn't normally receive all O's in. Harry took the opportunity to think of all the things he wanted to ask his godfather. After his friend's reactions to Sirius' stunt, he actually still hadn't told them yet that he would be spending a week at his godfather's home and wasn't sure how to break the subject at this point. He was certain to get some disapproval.
''Enjoying the sun?'' he heard, and he nearly twisted his neck as he looked at Dumbledore, who had appeared behind him, still wearing a travel cloak that covered his usual eccentric choice of robes.
''Professor, you're back!'' Hermione exclaimed, smiling. ''Many people missed you at Hogwarts.''
''My deepest apologies, I had matters to attend to elsewhere, but your concern has been noted, Ms Granger. I do hope that your excellent academic abilities haven't faltered? And Mr Weasley, staying out of trouble?'' Harry fidgeted as his friends answered, Ron's cheeks colouring a bit at the mention of trouble. ''Very good. Harry, I must apologise that I could not uphold my promise of answering your questions before. If you would, I'd like to talk to you in my office. No no, you can leave your things here, we shouldn't be long,'' he spoke as Harry already started packing his bag without a word.
As they walked towards Dumbledore's office, Harry brooded about what he wanted to ask exactly and forced himself to calm down. The man had believed his story before already about Sirius, and Harry's thoughts were safe as long as he didn't directly stare at the headmaster, due to the snake fang pendant he wore. For a moment, he tried to push all of his newfound knowledge and dislike for Dumbledore aside, trying his hardest for Sirius to see things from another perspective. It was more difficult than he could imagine, his thoughts screeching to a halt every time the words 'Dursley' and 'prophecy' flashed up in his mind. Should he reveal that he knew about that? Probably a bad idea, even if it was one of the main sources of his problems with the Headmaster. Staying ambiguously vague about his source to Sirius was one thing, Dumbledore was sure to know that not many people would have had access to knowledge about this prophecy.
As they entered the room, Harry first noticed Fawkes, who looked close to his dying day again, a pool of feathers at the base of his bird pole. ''Take a seat Harry,'' Dumbledore said in a friendly tone that made Harry relax despite himself. It was easy to forget that this man had turned his parents into soldiers when he looked like the perfect picture of a fairy tale wizard. ''I'm sure that you have many questions, but first sit down and have a drink if you will.'' Harry froze up slightly, having been warned about Veritaserum by Barty right before he left Riddle manor. Would Dumbledore actually try to use that on him? ''Some tea,'' he rasped out, figuring that it would be strange to deny the offer. Taking the risk, he carefully sipped from the steaming cup that appeared, not knowing what even the effects of the potion would be if his tea had been laced with it.
Nothing happened, Dumbledore circling a teaspoon in his own cup and taking a long sip. ''Ah, warm, yet refreshing,'' he stated, smiling. ''Certainly something I needed after my travel.''
''May I ask where you've been?'' Harry asked. ''I heard that Headmaster Karkaroff and Madame Maxime became a bit uneasy with your absence.''
''You have eyes and ears everywhere, do you Harry?''
''No, I have friends everywhere,'' Harry corrected, frowning. ''I've taken Cedric's attempts at unity to heart and befriended Fleur and Viktor. They're both very nice people once they warm up. I'm actually surprised that the cup chose the three of them, since none are the competitive type. Cedric just wants everyone to get along, Viktor is already famous and rich and just wishes to be liked for who he is and Fleur... well, Fleur also wants to be recognised as a person.''
''I'll tell you a little secret,'' Dumbledore smiled, tapping the silver spoon at the rim of his teacup, droplets falling back into it. ''The Triwizard Tournament is a competition unlike any other, having been forged to stimulate international cooperation. While the Headmasters of the schools -myself included- of course like to see our Champions win, the Goblet of Fire was tasked to not necessarily pick those best suited for handling the Tournament itself, but also those willing to look past the trials and see each other. It is most important that, during times of peace, we stick together also, to not forget the bonds that we share when storms are to be weathered in the future.''
''That explains quite a bit,'' Harry admitted, glad to know of it. He stayed silent then in expectation, Dumbledore still not having answered his initial question. After a minute and a few silent sips from their cups, the Headmaster smiled at him.
''Not so easily distracted, are you? Very well, I've been on a mission to gather pieces of a rather complicated puzzle. I had actually wished to wait a few years with it still... However, with Voldemort showing up two years ago and now with the unfortunate happenings of Peter Pettigrew's mysterious demise, I felt forced to speed some things up. Not to mention...'' he stared Harry down ''That it looks like I indeed gravely underestimated your abilities and understanding. Perhaps you can handle more than I gave you credit for. A mistake I shall not make again.'' It might have sounded like a threat, had Dumbledore not said it with a comically-raised eyebrow and a smile.
''Have you ever heard of a Pensieve?'' he asked. Harry warily shook his head. ''They can show memories that have been extracted from one's mind. Duplicates, if you will, the memories also remain where they were before of course, lest we forget their existence in the first place. It is a handy invention that keeps me sane at times, when I find it better to observe a memory from an outside perspective. The ones I wish to show are not mine though, I have gone to gather some particular memories related to a certain individual with whom I think you should familiarise yourself. A great burden was placed on your shoulders the night that Voldemort chose to attack you and your family, and as much as I wish to protect you, you won't be within the walls of this castle forever. Voldemort shall not rest until he gets what he wants. Therefore, I have some things to show you.''
He waved his wand, upon which a cabinet opened, a strange silver light glowing as a shallow bowl floated out of it and landed on the table in between them. Harry stood and leaned forward, peering at the object in fascination, drawn to the shiny surface. It rippled not unlike dry ice, yet was clearer and more substantial. ''Memoria fluidum,'' Dumbledore explained, standing up too, opposite Harry, putting his hands around the bowl. ''A tricky substance to create, even harder to maintain.''
''How do I use it?'' Harry asked warily.
''Look closer. Much closer. I've already added the memory I wanted you to see.''
Harry lowered his face to the swirling, misty matter, something drawing him to the depths of the bowl. At least, he calmed himself, he knew how to cast a bubblehead charm if this was all a plot to drown him.
Through smudged glass, the landscape whooshed by, early spring flowers covering the green meadows of the English countryside through which the Hogwarts Express ploughed itself. The train was only half as full as on the first of September, and it was the first trip that he made without Ron. His friend had been cross with Harry for not telling him about going away for the holidays. Thankfully he didn't start a row about it, possibly two major fights in barely half a school year putting some sense into the other. Hermione hadn't been so lenient, and even as she sat with him in the train compartment now, she didn't say a word, convinced that what he was doing was absolutely stupid.
It did give Harry time to think, the ride taking over six hours and having hardly anything else to do. He would have used the time for studying, if he didn't always get nauseous when staring down at a book for an extended period of time while sitting in a moving vehicle. Hermione had no such qualms, it seemed. Perhaps, Harry considered, he was destined to be bad at all forms of travel apart from with a broomstick. His mind lingered still on the memory he'd been shown, unsure what to make of it, of the purpose behind Dumbledore's decision. He'd been taken to little Hangleton, not Riddle manor, instead to a little shack on the outskirts of town which he didn't know of if it still existed. The memory had been of a Ministry employee, a certain Bob Ogden, who had visited Voldemort's maternal side of the family. It was hard to get the desperate look of Merope Gaunt out of his mind, the cruel treatment that was comparable to the Dursleys' way of raising Harry. He didn't know how her story continued, had no idea how exactly things had fallen apart in such a way that Voldemort had landed in a Muggle orphanage. It was undeniable however, that the cracks had already started far before Tom Riddle had been born.
In the end, Harry had been so occupied with the memory that most of his other question for Dumbledore had been left forgotten, from the way magic was taught at Hogwarts -not that he had expected a straight answer there in the first place-, to what view Dumbledore had on Voldemort now. After all, it was clear that the headmaster was starting to move against the man, despite Voldemort not even officially making any appearances. For all Harry knew, Dumbledore still thought that the Dark Lord was playing parasite, although perhaps his fears of the Dark Lord's return to life had been strengthened by what had happened with Peter. Harry himself still didn't know how that had been managed either, the Dark Mark disappearing and Wormtail ending up an empty shell...
''Hermione,'' he spoke quietly. She gave a noise that was in between a huff and a grunt, making him think it might be okay to continue. ''Dumbledore has apparently started to try and train me,'' he admitted. She instantly shot up, anger forgotten and eyes wide.
''Train you? In what, duelling?''
He smiled wryly. ''No, not exactly. Maybe 'train' wasn't the right word. In fact, I hardly think I'll be learning any new magic at all, which is why I wanted your opinion on it. I was called up in his office to look at a memory of Voldemort's past. He told me that this will be a regular occurrence and said that it was the reason he was away for so long, hunting down memories of Voldemort's parents and such. I can't really see how it would help me, or why Dumbledore would think it's necessary. I mean, I survived before on pure luck, surely he doesn't expect I can do anything against a Dark Lord?''
Hermione hesitated and put her book away. ''Well, there is the saying of 'Know thy enemy', I'm sure it will be useful to know of his background. Honestly, it's frightening to imagine how little we actually know of V... of Voldemort,'' she spoke the word a bit breathlessly. The fear of the word had, with her being a Muggleborn, never been so ingrained into her as in others. Still, for years, Harry was the only one who dared utter that name aloud, it having a sense of taboo that Hermione had always also found hard to break since all around her reacted so negatively to it. More than anything, one of his friends finally getting over the fear of the man's name calmed him more than anything. ''I mean,'' she continued. ''We know of him, of course, and with the happenings of the Chamber of Secrets you also found out a bit more about his past. We know that he used to be Tom Riddle and attend Hogwarts. Prefect, then Headboy, outstanding academic ability... but he doesn't really show up as Voldemort until his mid-thirties, effectively vanishing for over a decade. Even from there on, hardly anyone dared to mention him in literature. Who he really is, what drove him to do the things he's done, are a mystery.''
''And even about the last war,'' Harry agreed, nodding. ''We've only heard bits and pieces from adults who were involved in the first war, how it was then. To me, those stories are puzzling too. In some, it sounds as if he kept in the background, yet then again he shows up by himself on the battlefield... No-one actually told me much about what that side actually fought for, only that they lost and had some radical ideas of overthrowing the government and being against Muggles and Muggleborns.'' And he knew that at least the latter was more an ideology pursued by the Pureblood families that counted themselves to the Dark Lord's following than of the man himself.
''Not to mention the whole mystery with his return,'' Hermione quietly agreed. ''No normal human, wizard or not, should have been able to accomplish what he did. No ghost could take hold of a human body the way he did with Quirrel.'' she shuddered. ''To think that he was there all of our first year, right in front of us!''
''True, you may have a point in that getting to know him might help. Then again, why me? As I said, no-one can honestly expect me to, what, duel him or something?''
''Harry, as much as you like to keep out of the spotlight, fact is that both times he appeared, he went after you,'' she reasoned
''That's not true,'' Harry threw in. ''I went after him.'' Surprised, she looked up. ''In our first year, it was I who decided to snoop into the whole thing with the Stone and wanted to stop whoever was after it. He could have easily caught me alone by using Quirrel and offed me. Instead, he left me alone all year until I appeared in the room when he was trying to figure out how to get the stone. The only incident where he did attack me in some way was on the Quidditch field, and I honestly can't say that that was really supposed to be an attempt on my life. I mean, so publicly, with loads of teachers around? And then second year, it was also us who wanted to figure out the mystery, right? Voldemort would have had no way to know that I could hear the Basilisk in the walls, nor that I would find the diary after Ginny tried to flush it through the toilet. As much as I can blame Voldemort for the deaths of my parents, I cannot truthfully say that he tried to be a direct threat to me after. It was I who kept getting in his way however I could. As it is, I have no idea why Dumbledore thinks that I should be the one of all people to receive more information about the man. I'm not the only one who lost their loved ones.''
''You are the only one who survived his Killing curse, that must count for something.'' Her tone sounded more doubting than her words did.
''I only survived because my mother put herself between me and him after he asked her to step aside,'' Harry spoke, frowning. ''Dumbledore told me as much a few years ago already. He knows that it is not through any feat of my own.'' There was, of course, the Prophecy, which he shouldn't even know about. It still did not make sense to him that the Headmaster would start giving him these 'extra lessons' before actually revealing why Harry was supposedly the only one it could be useful for.
'''Maybe...'' Hermione hesitated. ''Maybe he wants to give you something to concentrate on other than what you have been doing.'' She refused to meet his eyes, making Harry raise an eyebrow at her.
''And what have I been doing?''
''I wondered why Dumbledore gave you such a low score during the first Task and did some research. Then after hearing how you conquered the second one, well... I'm not stupid Harry. I know very well that you performed much darker magic than you should know. Also, you have been talking to Malfoy a lot, and have had lots more extra classes with professor Moody in Defence than you should, which can't all be for the Task. I know that you've already been training in secret on your own to take on Voldemort.'' She gave him a determined stare, which he could only blink at. How had she come to that spectacularly wrong conclusion?
''Hermione...''
''No Harry, you don't have to hide it from me. Look, I know that professor Moody's approach to dark magicians is 'use their own means to beat them', and that Malfoy has potentially useful info that you can use against him since his dad can't be favoured that much anymore by Voldemort after buying his way out of Azkaban. Merlin, even your visit to Sirius now would definitely not be approved by Dumbledore, I can only imagine where you got the knowledge of all those obscure rituals.'' She raked her hand through her frizzy curls in frustration. ''I don't know how to get this point across better, Harry: you've got to stop. It won't work the way you think it will, professor Dumbledore trying to show you what made Voldemort become the way he did surely has got to be a sign that you're not going at this the right way. It's frustrating to be famous, I've seen how you dislike it. Still, it's a reality that you will have to face. People look up to you and will scrutinise your every move. If you start fighting dark magic with dark magic, who knows what can of worms you're opening. It might become like second year all over again, with peopled determined that you're the next Dark Lord only because you used the same means to do something entirely different. You were shunned for talking to snakes, a skill that surely cannot really be harmful , only because it is associated with Dark Arts.''
Harry sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, wondering whether to go along or not. In the end, he settled for speaking the truth while also leaving her with the illusion she obviously wanted to believe in. ''I don't give a damn about public opinion,'' he commented. ''As long as those I care for know that I'm doing everything I can to protect them. You were right, the entire magical population will blow up whenever I 'step out of line' even if that is just by being myself. Guess what, that means there will always be something they'll complain about. I'm not going to walk around on eggshells and sit back, hoping that when I am really attacked, I can throw my knowledge in Voldemort's face of that I know his granddaddy was an abusive dick. What you are saying makes sense in the way that yes, there might be backlash. Sure, Dumbledore possibly thinks just as bad of me as the rest of the Wizarding community and is afraid of that I'll turn out like Tom Riddle did. Well I won't, and you should know that I will never enjoy hurting other people.'' For as much as he admired the Dark Lord for his power and control over his own bloodlust, he would be the last to say that he wanted to be like the man, or agreed with taking pleasure in the pain of others.
''Oh Harry,'' Hermione said, trails of tears slipping from her eyes. ''Of course I do, you twat! I am only worried about that others won't! I don't want to see one of my best friends getting hurt, don't you understand that? I feel like you're going onto a path where it will be hard for me to follow and fully show my support for you, I'm not saying that I will not.''
Looking down, Harry didn't react to that, having no idea how to reply. Trying to accept her words would be equal to lying to her. To hear that she had full faith in that he was trying to fight against Voldemort on his own and that being the reason why he spoke to against Dumbledore was...
He didn't need to finish his thoughts, for she frowned and put her book to the side, leaning forward. ''The only piece that I cannot puzzle together is why you just claimed that others cannot expect you to fight You-Know-Who when it's so obvious that that is exactly what you've been trying. As you said before, you did go after him a couple of times already.''
Carding a hand through his hair, Harry wondered how he could talk himself out of this mess without revealing too much of his own thoughts. Honestly, he wished he could just tell Hermione everything that had happened since the end of their last year. Then, Voldemort's words shot through his head of him picking friends who wouldn't benefit from choosing the side of Magic, and he also recalled Hermione's outburst at the first Champion party of her family's lives not just being a theoretical political point to check off on a list. That also brought a dilemma for Harry. Having sworn to protect his friends, that included their wellbeing and happiness. Her parents being harmed was out of the question, no matter how lowly Voldemort thought of Muggles.
''I guess I don't really know what I'm doing,'' he muttered. Which was entirely truthful: he was a confused mess who tried to do his best and got stuck between two sides. It all had seemed so simple the past few years: the people he loved were on the Light side, those who resented him and wanted him dead on the Dark. Finding out that not everyone light magician had his best intentions in mind and that the Dark Lord had an agenda that would -in Harry's opinion- change the world for the better, altered that outlook completely. And still, he couldn't exactly say that he could stand behind Voldemort fully either, since Harry did not agree to many of the man's methods and his flippant way of handling other humans. The only hope he clung to was that Voldemort would not change his mind on not trying to start a war again this time. Also, apart from Barty, all of his friends were still light, and he couldn't blame them much for it either if the other alternative would leave them poor and shunned. As far as he knew, they had not been manipulated nor charmed to believe that the light was the better choice, it really was for them. Other than for Harry, who had nothing to lose, as Voldemort had oh so kindly pointed out. No, he would get safety, respect even for being so close to the Dark Lord if he played his cards right.
A small hand landed on his knee and Hermione smiled through her tears. ''I'm here to support you Harry, and I know that I can speak for Ron as well. You don't have to shoulder this burden alone you know.''
His knee still burned hours later where she had touched him, guilt and dread filling Harry's mind. Why couldn't things be easier? Why could he not find any good arguments that he knew they'd understand too that might make both Ron and Hermione understand why he made the choices he did? Why did he not have anything concrete against Dumbledore that might change their outlook on things? For as much as he himself had been convinced about that the headmaster had lied to him, hidden important information and twisted situations to his own favour, Harry didn't actually have any proof for any of it.
They said their goodbyes at the train station, Hermione hurrying towards her parents once they were past the barrier, both of them looking happy to have their daughter back, only casting a couple of dubious looks at her large trunk and various not-so-normal items. Harry watched them silently, the realisation dawning on him that he hardly knew anything about them. It had been so easy to integrate in the Weasley family that he'd hardly ever thought about the parents of his other friends, and now that he thought about it, Hermione's were least mentioned. He even knew more about Neville's grandma than about Mr and Mrs Granger. That also made him realise that he was probably not the only one: none around him had asked about them either, a sort of silent agreement between magicians of all blood statuses existing as a barrier that made it hard to mention Muggles. It was what had kept Harry silent about the Dursleys, or what made that he knew quite a bit about Seamus mum, but no details about his dad other than that he was a Muggle. The segregation that Voldemort sought seemed to already be ingrained on the most basic levels. Could he then really blame magicians who had had little to do with Muggles or only had negative experiences, for dehumanising them so? And was Harry then very different? All Muggles he'd been forced to be close to, from his own family to children at elementary school, had treated him horribly. He'd had no friends, none who cared for him. It was a miracle that he didn't have the same attitude as Voldemort towards them.
Which left Harry wondering why he didn't, thoughts that were broken off when a very large dog enthusiastically ran up to him, followed by a man who was obviously part of the personnel here at the train station. ''This yours?'' the man panted, hands at his knees as he skidded to a halt in front of Harry. His face was the shade of red that betrayed he might have been chasing Sirius around for quite some time already. ''Pets are to be leashed here!''
''I... I'm so sorry!'' Harry stuttered, trying not to burst out laughing as Sirius sat down next to him like the most well-behaved dog in the world, wagging his tail and nudging Harry's hand.
''Are your parents here boy?'' the man huffed, straightening again and eyeing the large dog disapprovingly.
''Erhm... no. Snuffles must have come here on his own, no-one was supposed to pick me up. Sorry, my dog sometimes gets a little excited and tries to find me on his own. Isn't he smart?'' he asked, hoping that his and Sirius' combined puppy-eye looks would convince the man to let it slide.
''I'm not getting paid enough for this,'' the guy muttered, his look resigned. ''Run along kid, please at least find something to use as a leash so I don't get into trouble for letting you go.'' Determined to get back at his godfather for this whole situation, Harry rummaged in his trunk, finding the sash of his dress robes to tie it around Snuffles' neck.
''It's your own fault,'' he grumbled as Sirius whined and tugged on the leash. ''Happy April's fools.''
Harry soon found that he wished to have swallowed those words. Whenever he'd thought of staying at Sirius' place, he'd imagined the first impressions of a deeply dark Wizarding home, gloomy corridors and magical books. What he got instead was a whirlwind of trying to avoid the most basic pranks: a bucket of water on the front door, loud sirens when he stepped over the kitchen threshold, a bombardment of confetti in his face whenever he opened a cupboard. ''Sirius!'' he whined when he tried washing his hands after using the toilet and cold coffee came out of the tap instead of water, splattering his shirt with stains.
''Ye-es?'' the man sing-songed, a wide grin visible when Harry opened the toilet door and glared out. At least no-one would be able to say that Sirius was a sore loser: the leash was still around his neck even in human form, now tied in a gigantic blue bow. Determined to get back on the prankster, Harry scooped up a hand of coffee and hurled it at Sirius, who dove into another room, laughing hysterically. The teen sighed and went after him, trying his hardest to ignore the itching when it appeared that he'd just plopped down on a chair covered in a tickling charm. Harry was also determined to not eat anything that evening anymore after warily accepting Sirius' toffee apples and finding out that they were, in fact, caramel onions. All in all, it definitely was not an experience that Harry had imagined ever having, though all the pain was worth it when seeing how much fun Sirius was having again. For once the lines on his face that had been left by Azkaban looked a bit more shallow.
''Oh Merlin, you look just like James!'' The man wheezed after Harry had become, yet again, the victim of a rather childish prank that grew out his eyebrows so that they nearly covered his entire face. ''I did the same thing to him on the day of our graduation. Lily was furious at me.''
''And my father?'' Harry grinned, trying to brush the hair out of his eyes.
''He braided them and told everyone he was a Viking. Hey, you should-''
''I'm not braiding my eyebrows,'' Harry deadpanned.
''It would be so much fun! I'm not giving you the counter spell until you do!'' Having no other choice than walking with a curtain of eyebrows on his face or humouring his godfather's request, Harry gave in, hoping that Sirius at least didn't have any hidden cameras set up anywhere to record his shame. ''Amazing!'' the man cheered. ''Lily will never know what hits her! Come on Prongs, if we hunt down Peeves he might decide to copy this look on a couple of other students!''
It was as if the bucket of ice water on the door doused Harry once more as the teen took in the words with growing horror. The other didn't seem to think he'd said anything odd, still laughing. ''Sirius...'' he said quietly, hesitantly reaching out to take the man's hand.
''What? He's not going to be floating around on the second floor all day, I...'' his godfather fell silent and appeared confused for a moment, then looked around. ''Why am I here?'' he whispered, frowning. ''Prongs?''
Taking a deep breath, Harry kneeled down and carefully placed his hands on the man's cheeks to make Sirius focus on him. ''Sirius, come back. I'm Harry. James' son, okay?''
''Harry...'' It was as if he heard a mere echo of his godfather's voice. ''Of course. I'm... so sorry that you had to see me like that.'' Clearly struggling, he removed Harry's hands, staring at them. ''I might not have been as ready for this as I wanted to be,'' he spoke, words filled with regret. Then, Sirius cracked a smile. ''Wow, it's a bit hard to take this situation serious myself though, with you looking like that kiddo.''
Relieved that the moment was over, Harry rolled his eyes, deciding that it might be best to ignore Sirius' lapse for now. He hadn't truly expected Sirius to come back completely sane from twelve years in Azkaban. ''Then give me the counter spell, you menace!''
''Fine, fine!'' A moment later, Harry's face felt like it had turned back to normal. ''Oh yes, there's something I still wanted to ask you. And I know it's April's Fools as you might have noticed, but this is a matter of severe severity that could put Severus to shame, okay?'' Wondering what could be so important, Harry nodded, then jumped as with a loud bang, an old, shrivelled up house-elf appeared that threw him a foul look, hurled an envelope at Sirius and disappeared again.
''What in the...''
''Ah, my absolutely disloyal servant, I would have kicked him out if I hadn't been persuaded otherwise. Apparently I should still at least have someone to keep watch, even if the little bastard would love to murder me in my sleep if he wasn't bound to obey me. Take no notice of Kreacher, Harry, he's still bitter about me inheriting anything from the Blacks. He loved my dear mummy to death. Her portrait hangs in the hallway, I'm shocked that she didn't start screaming through all of these pranks. Maybe she's tired. All un-pleasantries aside of my family, I received this a few days ago. Care to explain why Lucius Malfoy knows you're spending the holidays here and thought it a great idea to invite me to one of his fancy parties?''
''What?'' Harry hissed, taking the envelope from the outstretched hand of his godfather, unfolding the letter.
We, the Malfoy family, wish to extend a hand towards Sirius Orion Black and Harry James Potter.
As extended family, you are hereby invited to Malfoy Manor to join in the celebrations for the noble Feast of Ostara in closed circles. Dinner shall be included and your hosts shall provide the necessary set-up and ingredients. Formal attire required.
For your safety, this invitation is only readable to the recipients.
Malfoy Manor, accessible via Floo only.
3rd of April, 1994
17:00 - 23:00
Dubiously, Harry flipped over the paper to see if there was anything on the back. There wasn't. ''That little shit,'' he cursed. Harry had suspected before that Malfoy had been listening in on him, catching the Slytherin quite a few times on the Marauder's map, being far too close to Harry's location when there was no need to. ''Draco,'' he sighed at Sirius' raised eyebrow. ''We've been rivals for years and finally formed a sort of truce this year. He actually helped me with the second task as he speaks Mermish. I haven't spoken him much since Christmas though, it looks like he's been stalking me instead and picked up something about me going here.'' Harry scowled. ''Ron made a big fuss about it when he found out, my friends think it's too dangerous for me to be here since the Ministry is still after you and such. Speaking of which, what are you going to do about that?''
Sirius shrugged. ''I suspect I will have to hide away for the next decade or so. It's known now that I didn't kill Peter, but that's it. Things would have been different, had I been able to prove he was a Death Eater. Since I cannot and most likely never will be able to prove that now he died, there isn't much left for me to do other than running around outside as Snuffles. So, Draco Malfoy told his daddy that you would be here huh? What should we do?''
''You're the adult here.''
''Debatable,'' Sirius snorted, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back. ''It could be interesting, if slightly risky. For all I know, this is a gigantic trap and Dementors will be waiting for me there. On the other hand, Narcissa and I used to get along as kids until I ran away. Who knows how she feels towards me now. It certainly would be less boring than being cooped up in this house, even if you're here too. Hey, if we get attacked I can polish my duelling skills!''
''How'd you get your wand back in the first place?''
Sirius pulled a face. ''I didn't, my wand was snapped when I was shipped off to prison. Dumbledore helped me finding a new one and talked to Ollivander.'' Harry nodded, silently brooding about why the headmaster was putting so much time and energy into Sirius. Was it really kindness, making up for his own mistakes, or were larger things at play here?
''Oh no, I know that look,'' Sirius groaned. ''I'll try not to mention Dumbledore around you for at least a couple of days, okay?''
''Not sure, I actually have some things I want to talk to you about regarding him.'' Harry spoke. ''Before that, we should first think of this invitation. You say we should go? Wouldn't anyone think you're jeopardising my safety by bringing me to known Death Eaters?'' Not that that would really be a problem, but it would be strange for him to just go along with it, Harry found.
The man chewed on his lip, looking torn. ''You should be able to handle yourself... With Malfoy manor having powerful wards, you should definitely get away with using magic, especially since the Malfoys have a kid that goes to Hogwarts.''
''You mean my wand trace would be blocked by the house being a place where it is not odd for magic to be cast?'' Harry asked, vaguely remembering Barty's explanation of how it worked.
''Basically. If you want to be sure, we should maybe look to see if we can find a different wand for you to use there. I can't guarantee anything otherwise. the Trace is a fickle thing. So, if you can cast magic, there really shouldn't be anything to worry about, and I'm there with you too. Don't forget I used to be an Auror!''
''You were?'' Harry asked, baffled. ''I actually didn't know that.''
''Yeah, joined the Training program when I was right out of school. I tried to convince your dad too, but he was wealthy enough to not need to work for a couple of years and he first wanted to focus on Lily and later on you. Not that I was in need of gold really. When I was burned off the family tree, my Uncle Alphard left me a large sum, with which I bought my own little flat at eighteen, once I was out of Hogwarts. Before that I had crashed at James' place during the holidays since running away from home. I mostly got the job to have some excitement in my life and do something proactive apart from only Order missions. Ah, good old times. I only barely managed to finish the training before.. well, before everything went down. It's why I was so hoping that I could show people Peter's Mark, as a trained Auror I was even allowed to use the Killing Curse on Death Eaters freely.''
''Did you?'' Harry asked uncomfortably.
''If they fought back, or if I knew of horrible things they'd done but I couldn't prove? Yeah, it was war. It's not as if any of those bastard would have spared my life either, not to mention their boss. The only one I ever let run when I met him on the battlefield was my little brother, who was barely seventeen at the time. I still can't believe that he bought all that crap from my parents. Seeing him there, standing all proud, mask in hand... idiot...'' Sirius trailed off.
''What happened to him?''
Sirius shrugged and stared at the ceiling in a way that reminded Harry very much of Barty. ''He died. Figured out in the end that there wasn't only glory to be found on the dark side, so he turned tail. Still have no idea when and how exactly, but it cost him his life rather fast. Kreacher still isn't over it, Regulus was his absolute favourite, just like my little brother was perfect in the eyes of my parents.'' The bitterness betrayed that Sirius wasn't quite over it either despite all those he spoke of being six feet under. ''He was murdered by Voldemort or, more likely, by one of the Dark Lord's cronies. Having only joined a few years prior, I can't imagine that Regulus was important enough to be killed by him personally.''
Regulus echoed through Harry's brain, a pleading voice crying out for one long dead. So Sirius had not been aware of just how important Regulus had been to the Dark Lord then.
''Right,'' he replied. ''Well, with you having been an Auror, I certainly should not have any trouble. I don't mind going either. Might be interesting, as you put it.''
''True, it's not as if the Dark Lord is waiting for you himself, is he?'' Sirius cheerfully said, swinging himself forward to fist-bump Harry's shoulder. He tapped the letter once with his wand, the crest at the end of the page glowing up blue. ''Now they know we've accepted,'' the man explained. ''Come on, I'll show you the rest of the house while cleaning up these prank items. Can't promise you that I won't accidentally miss one or two if you don't help me,'' he smirked. ''In the meantime, I'll have Kreacher prepare dinner. He's a good cook but since he tries to do his worst for me, don't expect miracles. The only reason why it's still not poisoned is because House elves are incapable of purposefully botching up a direct task to such an extent that it wouldn't resemble food anymore.''
''I could cook,'' Harry offered, earning him a horrified look.
''As if! I'd rather bring down these wards and order food every day than make you work during your holiday! Preposterous.''
Harry only smiled. Even if the food he received here was trash, nothing could make that wouldn't enjoy spending time with Sirius.
Thanks so much to everyone that reviewed the last chapter :) I hope you all enjoyed this one too.
So, Ostara in the next chapter... let's see if Sirius can behave around the Malfoys hmm?
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xx GeMerope