Harry potter and the Time of Retirement
Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to JKR
Chapter 44 – Year 2
Grimmauld place. Harry had few memories of the place, and only some of them were happy. Once he married Ginny, a lifetime ago, he got rid of the house immediately and used the funds to create his own place. He forgot the building quickly after that.
Looking at his side, towards a still drunk Sirius, he knew the place how meant a lot for him instead – just in a drastically negative way. If his alternatives were staying here or visit Narcissa, no wonder he was getting closer to her. As it stood, Grimmauld place was just…. 'Mmmhh' thought Harry, 'I am still cheerier than this place, come on.'
Painfully dragging Sirius onward, his arm pressing down on Harry's shoulder, he climbed the steps leading to the entrance and tried to open the door, to no avail. 'Closed', he thought. He banged the doorknockers, snake shaped, a couple of times just in case and then addressed Sirius.
"Mr. Black, we are back at your place. Do you have the keys?"
"I doooon… don't like it here. Never did. My stupid parents…." drabbled on Sirius. Harry sighed and placed him on the ground, resigning himself to search through Sirius's pockets once again. Just as he was starting the door opened and an old, wizened and hostile elf face appeared behind it.
"Master is back, to shame the house of Black once again. Who is with him? More filth, for sure. Poor mistress Walburga…." murmured the elf, while watching at them.
"Let's go, Sirius" said Harry, ignoring Kreacher. Inside, the house was in even worse conditions than he could remember. The smell of dust was omnipresent, there were barely any lights, and random items laid abandoned on the floor here and there. In the distance, at the end of the hallway, Harry could swore he saw some pixies.
"Sirius, shame of the family! Drunk, now! Is there no end to how low... who are you? Your face, you look like that Potter fiend" said a voice on Harry's side. "How come? You should be dead."
"Even if alive, he would be much older. I am Harry James Potter, his son. Mrs. Black, I assume" said Harry, evenly.
"Harry Potter, the boy who caused the fall of our lord. You are not welcome in the ancestral house of the Black family. No Potter is, after the horrible influence you had on my..." said the portrait of Walburga Black, before hesitating. She frowned, and concluded. "On my son".
"Sirius chose his own path, it had little to do with us. Besides, the second I can see him safe in bed I will leave" said Harry.
"You can abandon him on the ground, like the trash he is. Oh, to think that the ancient house of Black is reduced to such a shameful end. If only my younger boy was still alive, he would never allow you to pollute my home with your presence" complained the portrait.
"My condolences for your loss" said Harry, shaking his head. "If you can order the house elf to help me, I will be done faster and go away".
The portrait glared at Harry, and sent an even more poisonous stare at Sirius. Nevertheless, after a second of silence, she relented.
"Kreacher" she said, snappily, while the house elf instantly bowed. "Carry the disowned to his room, and then escort our guest out of my house."
"Yes, mistress Walburga" said the elf, his voice as close to happiness as it could be. "The blood traitor can follow" he continued, snapping his finger and having Sirius' body starts to float.
"Stop insulting me, elf. I won't warn you again" said Harry. It was useless, though: for the whole path to Sirius' room, all the way to the 3rd floor, Kreacher continued to lament how the House of Black was suffering, how unworthy was his master, and how disgusting it was to have the traitorous Potters as guests once again. Sirius, meanwhile, started complaining about feeling sick; that actually seemed to make Kreacher happier, and his pushing of Sirius' floating body turned even rougher.
Eventually they arrived at what Harry knew was Sirius old room. Very little of his belongings seemed to have been kept there and yet Harry could notice a couple school books and some more recent clothes. With little care Sirius was left on his bed, moaning in pain.
"The blood traitor must leave, now" said the elf, with an unpleasant smirk on his face. Harry stared at him, expressionless, only to turn towards Sirius.
"Mr. Black, I have to leave now. Can you hear me?" asked Harry.
"Harryyyyyy" drabbled Sirius. "I haddd fun. Let's do it…. do it… again."
"Before I go, can I give some orders to Kreacher? I would like some water" said Harry, stone faced.
"What… whatever you want, Harry. James was my best…. friend, you dad was my friend. Are we friendssss… too?" said Sirius, half asleep. Kreacher glared at Harry, but said nothing.
"Farewell" said Harry, going out of the room, followed by Kreacher. The second the door was close, though, he stopped. "The kitchen is downstairs, blood traitor. You should be happy to receive anything from the house of Black. If mistress Walburga…"
"Be silent and still, elf" said Harry, interrupting Kreacher and turning towards him. The elf froze for a second, then a malevolent stare spread on his face. "The blood traitor dares to give me orders. Just like the master, filth never learn. The old master Black…."
Harry frowned, and then tried again. "Be and remain silent and still where you are until I order otherwise." Kreacher's glare rose in intensity but, just like in Harry's past, he could not refuse a direct order.
"You had a hard life, and deeply despise your master" started Harry. "Tough luck. From now on, until your master Sirius orders you otherwise, you are forbidden to ever express your opinions about him or his guests. Ever, in any form, be it words or actions. Repeat what I ordered, and then return to be still and silent."
Kreacher struggled, but his very nature prevented him to rebel. Openly, at least. "I have to stand still and silent. I can't express my opinions on my master and his guests."
"Very well. You will also, from now on, obey the orders you receive as you know your master Sirius would want them to be obeyed, not as you prefer. And your first order is to clean this house, to the point where your master would consider it clean and welcoming."
'What else, what else' thought Harry, grimacing. House elves were subservient, but not stupid, and were in fact quite adept at sidestepping any order they did not like. There was only so much one could do to force an unhappy house elf to work well. The best solution, usually, was to get rid of unhappy ones. 'If it was up to me I would kick you out of the house, and good riddance' he thought, looking down at Kreacher.
"One final thing. Your master is Sirius, and you take orders from him and those that receive authority from him. Portraits are not included. I order you to ignore, completely and forever, what the portrait of Walburga Black has said, will say or could ever desire" said Harry.
Immediately, Kreacher gasped and his face become contorted with rage. This, this he truly hated. And yet he could not rebel, not on the spot. Which certainly did not mean he could not twist whatever he would be ordered from then on to counter what Harry said. Maybe even old orders from previous Blacks could count.
"I think this is enough. Go back to your duties" concluded Harry, now looking with disdain at Kreacher and receiving quite a solid stare of hate in return. "Glares are an expression of your opinions, elf. Stop doing that too."
Kreacher, no longer bound to remain there, turned and left. Harry looked at his back, shook his head and went towards the exit. Downstairs, while passing in front of the portrait he nodded respectfully but Mrs. Black said nothing and merely waited for him to walk outside.
Once on the road he turned back, to stare at the house. 'What a sorry place' he thought. Rummaging into his sleeve, he took out his wand; from his pocket, shaking his head, he also fished out two different Gringott keys. "It would have been so much easier…." murmured Harry, and with a wave of his hand and a half murmured Reparifarge one of them turned into a pebble, that he let fall on the ground. Immediately after, he apparated away.
Appearing back in Hogsmeade, Harry quickly took on the route to Hogwarts. It was lunchtime so his objectives were the great hall and food, but other… issues had to be considered too. The real key inside his robe was one.
'It will take time before Sirius wake up, and more before he notices what happened' thought Harry, feeling still a little guilty at getting him drunk. As a sort of self-offered gesture of comfort, he patted on the bulge created by the key. 'Eventually, he will have to tell all to Dumbledore. What then?'
Would the principal straight out search Harry's belongings to get the key back? Would he ask Harry to return it? 'Of course I would deny everything. Of course he will not believe me anymore' thought Harry, with a little smirk. 'Wonder why'.
'Maybe hiding it is in order. The problem is where.'
While thinking and walking Harry had reached the castle and passed through the gate. As usual very few students, if any, were in sight. Some noises could be heard coming from the great hall at least.
Walking inside Harry approached the end of the house tables, close to the professors' section – Dumbledore himself insisting that everyone left at the castle should at least be physically close to each other, regardless of his house, during the school break. As he approached the few people inside Harry could feel the stare of the headmaster following him. Ignoring it, he sat down and started filling up his plate.
'Do I really need these problems?' considered Harry. 'I have my money. I could pick up my chest and leave, right now. Who could stop me?'
While eating, Harry – with an amused smile – started fantasizing on where he could go. 'Australia? The states?' Easier to talk with the locals over there but they felt so distant, so different….
'France is always nice. I could transfigure my body to look older, dance with some mademoiselle…'
The idea seemed quite silly, to be honest. Harry shook his head.
'What about Europe…. there is plenty of wizards in Bulgaria. Or I could go to Rome'. "The eternal city", he murmured.
For some reason, maybe his muggle upbringing, Rome meant the Pope for Harry. Sins, processions, incense, nothing like the proper Church of England of his youth. More like an amusement park than a real place someone could settle in.
"You appear to be in a good mood, Harry" said an old voice. A little startled, Harry turned around to see the headmaster standing beside him. 'So, he is smiling again' thought Harry, looking at his face.
"Headmaster" started Harry. "Yes, I had a nice morning at Diagon Alley. Mr. Black was quite entertaining."
"I am sure he was" commented Dumbledore. "I hope he didn't encourage you on further rule breaking, Harry".
"On the contrary, sir" said Harry, a slight teasing tone in his voice. "He seemed to take my schooling quite siriusly."
"I can imagine" countered the headmaster, drily. "So long as you two were just joking, I don't mind. A new year is about to start, Harry. I wish for you to be a good student and for us to go along."
"No reason while it shouldn't be so, sir" said Harry. "In fact, I like to think I am already a good student and that I go along with everyone."
"I am confident there is some space left for improvements" commented the headmaster, lightly smiling. "For now, just rest and wait for your house mates to come back. Did Mr. Black allow you to withdraw a large sum from your parent's vault, Harry?"
"Ah" said Harry, now wary. Hiding his disdain inside his voice, Harry answered evenly. "Not particularly, no, sir. Just some pocket change. Barely enough to buy some presents to my relatives, when I'll visit them these coming days."
"Visit them? I assume you want my permission to go" stated Dumbledore, a bit more relaxed. Harry frowned for an instant – the idea had not even touched his mind. Still, he recovered quickly.
"Of course, sir. May I?" asked Harry, unable to stop one of his eyebrow from raising in sarcasm.
"You may, Harry. If you wait until the new year you might even stay a couple nights with them, if you want. You do have to complete your assignments with Hagrid until tomorrow" said Dumbledore.
"Yes" concluded Harry. "Thanks."
"Talk with professor Sprout on how to go there. She might be so kind as to apparate you personally, but even if busy she could order a school elf to bring you home" finally said Dumbledore.
After exchanging a couple more greetings, the headmaster left and Harry stood up. The meeting had simply irritated him more.
'Talk about a sign from heaven' he thought. 'I guess I should come back to pick up my chest and say goodbye to everyone, but once classes restarts I am out.'
Slowly he went to his deserted common bedroom where he waited for a while, reading and just relaxing after lunch. Eventually, he wore his heavy clothes and went out of the castle, searching for Hagrid. Work or not, the half-giant remained at least a pleasant company.
Two days later, not long after his lunch at Hogwarts, Harry was standing in front of Privet Drive. There had been no particular celebrations for the new year at Hogwarts – not enough people remained to organize any real party, and beside the students who did not go back to their houses tended to be the most antisocial ones.
From conversations heard here and there, Harry was reasonably sure the professors had their own private reunion, one where they drank and talked long after midnight, but that was it. As for Harry himself, besides spending his last afternoon working with Hagrid and talking about the coming months, he celebrated by applying on himself the strongest warming charm he could cast and fly inside the stadium until nighttime. Winter and the lack of students, after all, granted him the whole place for himself and the pick of the best brooms that the school could offer.
Obviously, some thing more happened in Privet Drive. The street was deserted, sure, but the debris and fragments of fireworks scattered everywhere told the story of the celebrations from the night before. Families remaining awake for hours after the start of the new year and that now were holed up in their homes, calling relatives or just recovering some sleep. For what Harry could remember, his aunt and uncle were not fireworks users, but they too liked to have a special dinner and to open a bottle of Italian wine, at midnight.
Walking onward he knocked on the door and waited. Soon after, his cousin opened the door; his face showing some surprise when he saw him.
"Oh, Harry. Hi. We thought you wouldn't show up anymore this year."
"Hello Dudley. Better late than never" said Harry, forcing a small smile. "Merry Christmas, and happy new year. Well, happy everything" he said, while walking inside the house.
"What is that?" asked Dudley, pointing at a box in Harry's hands.
"Steak pie. I heard it is a traditional new year's dish, in Scotland."
"We are not Scottish, stupid" said Dudley, scoffing at him. Harry sighed, and placed the box on the kitchen table. "My school is in Scotland, and I got this there. I thought it would be a fun gift."
"So, where are your parents?" asked Harry, when Dudley remained silent.
"Just went upstairs. Dad said he wanted to sleep a little, and dragged mom with him" said Dudley, picking at some leftover baked potatoes laying on the counter.
"Did they tell you to be quiet?" asked Harry, a weird smile on his face. When Dudley shook his head, he laughed softly. "We better not disturb them, then. I expect they will wake up soon, anyway. Ten minutes, top."
"What?" asked Dudley, puzzled.
"Nevermind. So, how are things going? What presents did you get, this year?"
At this question, and while moving towards the living room, Dudley started a long talk on new presents, number of bits in whatever videogame toy he had received, and how there was an annoying classmate – from a family way richer than the Dursleys – that made fun of him when he tried to brag about the number of presents he received the previous years.
In particular, Dudley resented him claiming that "it's the price that matters, not the number. Enjoy your cheap trash".
"It's not a competition, Dudley. Just play with your stuff" said Harry, laying down on the couch.
"Don't lecture me. What did you receive, anyway?" asked Dudley, who had turned the tv on in the meantime. He kept the volume down, at least.
"An handmade scarf, a book, and a bottle of whiskey."
"Your presents sucks. And what are you even going to do with the whiskey, anyway? Did you try it?"
"I did, and I…. shared the rest with a friend. He seemed to like it."
"Oh" said Dudley, deep in thought. Then he smiled, genuinely, and said "You know, me and my friends tried a beer in Smeltings. We bought it from an older student."
"Why not?" answered Harry, amused, after a second of hesitation. "School is for learning new things, after all."
They chatted somehow amicably for a little while, until they heard some noise coming from the stairs. Soon after the face of aunt Petunia appeared on the door; her hair a bit messy, her lipstick somehow ruined.
"Dudley, did you invite a friend over? I heard some…. oh" she said, once she noticed Harry's presence. "You. We weren't expecting you anymore."
"I am glad you were expecting me at all, then. Happy new year, aunt Petunia" said Harry, pleasantly.
"It was just fine until now. Try to not give us problems until your school restarts."
Harry frowned briefly, and then showed a fake smile. "Did uncle Vernon hurt himself? Dudley heard him groan, before."
Aunt Petunia seemed in panic for a second but calmed down when Dudley, surprise on his face, quietly stated "No I didn't". Still blushing a little, she sent a resentful glare towards Harry. "I need help with cleaning the dishes. Go to the kitchen, now."
"I am not planning to stay" said Harry, evenly. "In fact, I am here just to say farewell."
"Until this summer?" asked aunt Petunia, frowning. Dudley, sitting beside Harry, was looking at him with a weird expression.
"No, for good. I am thankful to you and uncle Vernon for taking care of me until today, and I hope we will have better relations from now on."
"I haven't heard anything like that from your headmaster, Harry. Is this his idea?" said aunt Petunia.
"Oh, I am sure he will write you something, at the right time" said Harry, lightly.
"Where are you living from now on? Will you stay at your school?" asked Dudley. Harry smiled, but said nothing.
"Well, if this is not some stupid prank…. good. Go your own way, and don't bother us anymore."
"Does this mean I am not allowed to visit?" asked Harry, almost ironically. The hostile stare aunt Petunia sent him was quite a clear answer.
"If you said yes, I would have" said Harry, standing up. "I don't fully understand why you and Vernon resents me so much. By this point, it hardly matters anymore."
"If you need to take whatever is left in your room, do it quickly" said aunt Petunia.
"No, i don't. Dudley" said Harry, turning towards his cousin "when you are older, I'll call for you. Let's drink something together." Dudley, unsure, didn't answer while his mother frowned and said "Absolutely not."
"Farewell, then" said Harry, shrugging and walking out of the door. Looking behind him, he noticed his aunt watching him, Dudley at her side. She soon closed the door, and that was it.
'I didn't even meet dear old uncle' thought Harry, a bit disappointed. He shook his head, and walked away. 'I hope Dudley will grow out of them, just like last time. Those two are a lost cause.'
The neighborhood remained desert, everywhere he looked. There was no snow, and yet Harry could not see kids playing in their courtyards. It was still quite cold, of course.
"Better move on" he murmured to himself, picking up his wand and searching for some hidden corner in the street. 'Should I just apparate away? This time I am in England, and there are no wizards nearby. The Trace…' considered Harry, with a grimace, until he shrugged. 'Oh, whatever. Either I managed to remove it, or I am done playing it safe.'
Taking his wand out of his pockets, he apparated away.