Harry potter and the Time of Retirement

Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to JKR

Chapter 52 – Year 3

"Filth, always filth. Blood traitors and muggle lovers…" murmured Kreacher, glaring at them.

"No, I forbid it! No more Potters in my house! Sirius, is there no limit to how low you can fall? For how long will you embarrass our family?" screeched the portrait of Walburga Black.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" screamed Sirius in return, pulling a curtain on top of the portrait before turning towards the scowling house elf. "Kreacher, go away! Get out of my sight!"

No matter the fabric, Mrs. Black's voice could still be heard spouting criticism and insults. Sirius, his face livid, walked on towards the kitchen without looking back. Harry, amused, followed him silently through Grimmauld Place and closed each and every door behind them.

"Sit down, Harry" ordered Sirius, tightly, while picking up some glasses. "I told you it was a bad idea. Damn this house. And it was such a nice morning, too!"

Harry shrugged. The morning had indeed been nice, with them touring Diagon Alley and visiting some shops, making innocent small talk. It was at lunch hour that he refused to go to the Cauldron, and suggested to come back here. "Call me nosy, I wanted to check on how things were going here."

Raising his eyes and giving Sirius a skeptical look, he continued. "Obviously, not well. It can't be healthy to have those two around all the time."

"What am I supposed to do?" asked Sirius to the open air, exasperated, before turning towards a now smirking Harry with a frown. "And I am not killing Kreacher!"

At this, Harry moved on to snickering. "I got the message the first time. Still, you can sell him. Obliviate him. Bury him under so many orders that he can't even breath without your permission."

"Too much effort. Telling him to scram is enough" said Sirius, voice full of tiredness, sitting down and filling their glasses. His own with a generous portion of firewhiskey, Harry's with butterbeer.

"If you say so" continued Harry, while sipping from his glass. "At least shut your mother up. It's pretty embarrassing at your age."

"You think I didn't try? She won't listen. And that damn portrait is stuck to the wall."

"I can imagine you don't want to burn it down" suggested slyly Harry, as Sirius instantly grimaced "so I won't propose that. But you can still cut the whole wall and move it somewhere else. Or cover the portrait with layers of bricks."

"You don't do things halfway, eh?" said Sirius, shaking his head. "Again, too much effort. I just want to be left in peace."

"You won't, not by them" countered Harry. "And this is why I am worried, you are letting yourself go. I don't care what but do something, you are barely thirty."

"And you are not even thirteen, stop preaching" complained Sirius, before showing a wide grin. "Still, you worry about me?"

"I am also worried about my lunch, so don't flatter yourself" said Harry, smiling. "And I mean it, what are we going to eat?"

"If only we had remained in Diagon Alley" grumbled Sirius, before standing back up and opening some cabinets. "I don't have much. What about bread and salami, cheese, dried meat?"

"A luxury meal" commented Harry, rolling his eyes. "Sorry, guests shouldn't complain. But I'll add bad food to the list of reasons you look like a bum."

Sirius didn't answer, and served what scraps of food he had found inside his kitchen. For a while they were busy cutting and preparing, and after that they took some bites. For a while, the only sound inside the kitchen was that coming from their jaws.

"So" started Sirius, awkwardly "are you studying, Harry? Are you keeping up with your classes?"

"I do receive some notes here and there from professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff" answered Harry, while Sirius was nodding. "I think I am doing well enough."

"Good, good. I know you don't want to hear any of this, but you will go back to Hogwarts eventually. Dumbledore said the same."

"Are you still talking with him?" asked Harry, neutrally.

"More like, he is talking with me. He came and visited a couple times already, and whenever he does he also asks about you. He is worried" continued Sirius. At these words, Harry frowned.

"I am surprised you two go along so well" he said, just a hint of poison in his voice. "In your place, I would be furious at him."

"We are not becoming best buddies" countered Sirius "now or ever. I know he dumped me instantly, when the rat framed me. But everyone else did, too" he concluded, sighing. "I can't keep a grudge to all those that left me to rot in Azkaban, or I would have no one to speak to. Well, except you."

"Am I not good enough?" quipped Harry, snorting. "But… yes, I understand. If that is the reason, go ahead. Note that if I ever find you are spying on me, I won't be happy."

"Oh, I am spying on you all right, but for myself. Godfather, remember?" said Sirius, chewing with satisfaction on his sandwich. Harry just rolled his eyes.

"For what is there to spy on. I told you, I am turning into a plant with how often I am gardening, lately. Little to no flying. And I am seeing no one."

"Go back to school" said Sirius, voice creepily sweet. Harry simply glared at him.

"I am not the only one with problems, Black. What about you and your cousin? The Malfoy one."

"What about her?" asked Sirius, puzzled.

"She was all over you when you got out, and now you barely name her. Did you two fight or something?" asked Harry.

"Not at all. It's just… well, adult stuff."

"Which means? If it is not too personal" said Harry.

Sirius sighed, and went on. "She started nagging me about everything. First she wanted me to groom up like a proper stiffy Black. Then, joining the Wizengamot with the other ghouls. And finally about marrying someone. She wanted to introduce some of her friends to me."

"After ten years alone, I wouldn't mind a woman" commented Harry, only to get a dismissive look in return.

"You can talk like that after your first girlfriend, Harry" he said, while Harry sighed quietly. "And sure, I wouldn't mind some female company. But not an old harpy aiming at my money."

"If Narcissa introduces her, chances are she would be some rich pureblood. Hopefully pretty, too. And your cousin means well, it is obvious" said Harry.

"Not so obvious to me. She probably want to brag about settling me down. What else?" asked Sirius.

"If you marry and have kids she and Draco are no longer your closest heirs. That's not the kind of detail she would miss, nor would her husband" said Harry, while Sirius seemed surprised. "And still she wants you to form a family, and be happy."

"You might be right" he commented, deep in thoughts, before shaking his head. "I thought she was just being a stuck up pureblood lady, and I hate those. Always make you wonder what reasons they have, behind their smiles."

"So, no woman? Think about it…." said Harry, waving in the air a hourglass shape, only to snigger at his frown. "Fine, fine. Keep training your hand, what can I say."

"Don't be disgusting, Harry" complained Sirius. "Your mother would have slapped you if she heard you say something like that. Maybe I should, too."

"I hope you can imagine my reaction at any attempt" countered Harry, drily. "If you need someone older to speak about women, make new friends. Or contact the old ones. It can't have been only you four, back then."

"I told you time and time again, Harry. Us three" said Sirius, firmly. "That said, my old classmates moved on. I can't ask them out now, we were not close enough. And Moony…."

"The last of your group, right? Has he written you?" asked Harry.

"No. But Dumbledore told me about him. He is the teacher for Defense against the dark arts, of all things!" said Sirius, before calming down. "To be honest, he was conscientious enough to be a teacher. But the idea of him at Hogwarts…"

"Why, what's wrong with that?" asked Harry, only for Sirius to freeze and then shake his head. "Not my secret to share, Harry."

"Whatever. Why don't you go and visit him? Or send him an owl, and meet him at Hogsmeade."

"It's not that easy, Harry" said Sirius, only for Harry to shrug.

"It is that easy. If you don't want to, that's another matter."

Sirius didn't answer and after a while Harry went back to his half eaten lunch, finishing it.

"I guess we are both a mess, eh?" asked Sirius, eventually. Lunch was over, and neither had made any effort to even start cleaning up. Harry stretched on his chair, lazily.

"I am more than fine, thank you. Just a little bored and lonely."

"You are certainly independent for your age, Harry" said Sirius "but Dumbledore insists that you are too fond of doing things your way. Only to have everything backfire spectacularly, that time in January."

At this, Harry's face tightened. The criticism, unfortunately, was pointed. He recovered quickly enough though.

"Me and everyone else. Even dear old Dumbledore mess things up, from time to time. And he is an abysmal principal for the school."

"Yeah, right. Sorry but you are not believable" said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "With all his flaws, the old man is still the greatest wizard around and you sound like a spoiled brat right after being spanked."

Harry scoffed with derision. "Hogwarts is as unsafe as it can be and half of the faculty is made of morons. History, Defense, Divination are a joke and the less I say about potions the better."

"Defense against the dark arts is cursed, though" added Sirius, uncertain. "He can't help with that."

"He could help with the others. Beside, can't that curse be removed by the greatest wizard around?" suggested Harry, in a curt tone. "Some creativity can go a long way, too. Suppress Defense, heavily modify the curriculum, choose a new name and maybe the curse would not move to the new class."

"It's so easy, one wonders why he can't simply do it!" concluded Sirius, sarcastically. "Harry, you have no idea how complex his job is. Kids always think everything is easy and clear."

"That's the oldest excuse in existence, Black" said Harry, irritated. "Sure, I don't know the details but the bad results are still there to be seen. And Dumbledore is the one at the top."

"Let's change topic, ok? I care little about Hogwarts anyway, I care about you" said Sirius. "He has a point, you can't isolate yourself at your age. And if you are dealing with serious problems, you must ask for our help."

"I can very well do whatever…" started Harry, before thinking back of the Chamber. Of Quirrell. A grimace appeared on his face, and he fell silent. Sirius clearly noticed but decided to remain silent, waiting.

"Ok, maybe there is some truth in that" admitted Harry, slowly. "Not because I can't deal with things, mind you. But some help can't hurt sometimes."

"So humble" said Sirius, snorting. He only got an annoyed stare in return.

"I could turn all you said against you. Stop isolating yourself. Ask for help and improve this" said Harry, waiving around the dirty kitchen and the rest of the house "disaster."

"Do as I say, not as I do?" suggested Sirius, smiling. His smile was not reciprocated.

"Not going to work on me. Find a job, some friends or a woman, a new set of clothes and maybe I'll start taking your seriously. Not before."

"I am as sirious as one can be" added Black, only to lose his smile at Harry's expression. "You are no fun. Must be your mom's side."

"Oh, she would have said worse. I am young, you are old. Dad's ghost will haunt me, if I let you become some dirty, unhappy forty years old loser."

"Please, Harry, tell me what you really think" whined Sirius, only to wilt under Harry's stare. "Fine, fine. I was thinking about going back to work, anyway. My money won't last forever."

"Not if you suggest buying new brooms every time we meet, no" said Harry, satisfied. "I think I am done with serious, no, dry talks for today. Cards and booze?"

"Cards and butterbeer, Harry. And sure, why not."

The following hours were definitely pleasant. They played, drank, and chatted serenely. Once or twice Black started some line of bad jokes, and he was way too fond of asking Harry's ranking and opinions about his female housemates in Hufflepuff, but otherwise everything went fine.

Mid afternoon Harry stood up, declared he had won enough for the day, and it was time to leave. Sirius claimed he was the real winner of their games, and accompanied Harry to the door – and then outside of the door, as the portrait of Walburga Black restarted its insults the second it could hear them.

"Remember, walls can be moved" said Harry, as Sirius smiled before pulling him in for a hug. Harry remained stiff, but otherwise did not resist.

"We'll make a good boy out of you yet" he commented eventually, letting Harry go. "I'll write you, and you better write back. In fact, write to that little girl you were talking about before, too. Never leave a lady waiting, Harry."

"I'll see what I can do" answered Harry, drily. "And you write to that Moony guy. Get some closure or make peace, either are ok."

"I'll see what I can do" repeated Sirius, sighing. "Ehm, do you need to be escorted back home?" he asked, uncertain, before seeing Harry take out his wand. "Right. I wonder where you learned to do that."

"None of your business, of course" said Harry, in a friendly tone. "This wasn't a bad day. See you again" and with that and a loud pop, Harry apparated away to his own living room.

Relaxing, and changing his clothes to something more comfortable and fit for his yard, Harry thought back to their talk at lunch.

'It's true things haven't gone my way' he admitted, bitterly. 'Not that anyone could have saved Quirrell. If you sell your very soul to Riddle, it's either Azkaban or a grave.'

'Ginny…' he thought, grimacing. 'With Ginny I truly messed up. I am so sorry, Gin.'

Walking outside, towards his yard, he gave a look to Godric's Hollow all around his home. He was starting to like the place, but he couldn't deny he was feeling lonely. Cheerily visitingh Black was a clear enough sign he wanted other people in his life. Even Hannah and the other kids, annoying as they were, lightened up his days. Mostly.

"Two years now" he murmured, sadly. Checking up the plants, he noticed the ground was still moist – no need to water them, not yet. The sun was getting weaker, and it took longer to dry things. He still tried to set them up, removing dead leaves and other trash carried on by the wind.

'And there is still Riddle out there, somewhere' he considered, frowning. 'So long as I remain in England, I can't avoid the problem. Either I leave' he continued, smirking at the idea. Fat chances he would actually move abroad, he could admit that 'or I make sure he is put down like the animal he is.'

'And I can't do that alone. Probably. Maybe I should really learn from what happened' he sighed, before stabbing the dirt with his hand shovel. 'Maybe. I need to think about it.'

"Ten?" asked Harry, outraged. "You sell them for forty, you said so yourself."

"Yes" confirmed the apothecary, smiling confidently behind his desk. "I do. You can't, which is why you are here."

It was an early December morning, and Harry had brought four of his freshly brewed Wolfsbane potions to Knockturn Alley, in the hopes of some easy gold. Unsurprisingly he spent quite some time transfiguring his body as to appear much older, before going. He also spent some time asking about prices and other informations on potions, before making his offer. The result was still underwhelming.

"I would sooner gift them as charity than giving them up for a fourth of their value. Thirty."

The apothecary just snorted, amused. "Few people need and can afford these, sir. Unlike other potions, the real problem in Wolfsbane is selling. I said ten."

"The real problem is also making them. I am fully aware of how hard they are to brew, I made these myself. Whoever provides them to you is hardly accepting a pittance. I said thirty."

"For that price, I would do them myself. I could trust the result, these" continued the apothecary, looking at the bottles on his desk with suspicion "could very well be colored water."

"As if you can't check them" said Harry, rolling his eyes. "And were they not clearly potions, you would have offered nothing. If that is the problem, I am willing to leave them here on consignment."

"That would help" admitted the apothecary "but not enough to get a larger cut. Fifteen."

"With how long it takes to brew them, never. Twenty five, you still make an extra profit" said Harry.

"I am not so desperate for money" said the apothecary, apparently insulted "that I would risk my reputation for an handful of galleons. What if you messed up the brewing? I don't know you."

"Then give one for free to some werewolf that can't afford them, and check with him if they work. So long as you pay a fair price for the rest."

They went on and on for a long while, talking about trust, value of ingredients, reputation and so on. Eventually, the shook hands.

"Twenty then. I will owl you once they are sold" said the apothecary.

"No need, I'll pass here myself next month after the full moon to check. And don't forget, I expect my cut to rise after this batch" said Harry.

"If they work and you prove reliable, as I said. Now, is there anything else?" asked the apothecary and, at Harry's shrug, he smiled pleasantly and wished a good day. Harry went out of the shop, quite unhappy.

'Bloody vulture. It takes forever and a half to make even one of those' he thought, bitterly. He had hopes of earning some gold already, and spending it in Diagon Alley immediately after. Instead, with four enchanted bottles and some ingredients he could not grow himself gone, he was poorer than when he started.

'He better pay up once he sells those, or I swear I will burn the whole place down' raged internally Harry. With a sigh, he tried to calm down. 'It is what it is.'

He still decided to tour Diagon Alley and its shops. There was no snow on the ground – London was cold in winter, but not constantly cold enough for that – and it seemed like there were more people around. Some garlands and decorations here and there suggested that the various merchants were already looking forward to Christmas.

'Or Yuletide' he considered with a smile, thinking back to his old party at Malfoy's. With a shrug, he thought that money was always welcome in a shop, regardless of the reason.

It was only after a couple hours, lunch time approaching, that he returned back home. Putting on some comfortable clothes, he went straight to the kitchen and started cooking. 'I am getting good at this' he thought, with a smile, as meat and potatoes were frying in a pan. 'An elf would be nice, but I can deal with everything now. Nothing hurts' he concluded, thinking of how much his joints creaked, back in his old age.

After lunch, as he was relaxing with a book and some tea, an owl came and started pecking at his windows. An owl he had seen often in the recent weeks. Opening the window, he recovered the attached parchment.

Harry, hi!

I hope everything continues to go well. I agree, we should organize something for Christmas, and I have some proposals too on what to do. I'll tell you all soon.

Moving on, do you remember how I relented and sent Moony an owl, last time I wrote you? Well, I just received his answer. You were quite annoying, my dear godson, but I can't deny now that you were right. I was quite glad to hear from him, and he offered to meet at Hogsmeade this Saturday. I am planning to go.

It will break your heart, I am sure, but you are not invited. Yet. For what he wrote I am sure he wants to meet you, but our first meeting is for adults only. Unless you want to be stuck far away in some kiddie table while we talk and drink.

That's all about me. What about you, Harry? Did your pretty girlfriend answer your messages? In fact, have you actually sent anything or did you lie just to shut me up? Hard to tell with you, sometimes.

If you did, and she did, I expect details. I know, I know, you don't want to encourage her but keeping in touch with your classmates is the way to go, believe me. Keep writing them.

Come at Grimmauld Place for dinner, this Sunday, and we can gossip like old aunts about everything, including Moony and Hufflepuffs. In the meantime, stay away from troubles.

Sirius Black

Harry sighed, amused. He had actually written something to some of his class mates, Sally-Anne included, and received a couple answers. Mostly short – it was out of sight out of mind, for kids; only Sally had written something more thoughtful.

Nevertheless, he was glad of how his informal deal with Black had been progressing. The man seemed happier in his latest letters and, while he kept refusing all meetings Mrs. Malfoy proposed him, recovering an old friendship with Lupin and asking back at the ministry if his old job was available were steps in the right direction. If only Harry could convince him to kick Kreacher to the curb.

Giving a quick glance to the photos placed on the fireplace's mantle, and especially to his parents', Harry smiled. 'No need to thank me, dad' he thought. With a self-satisfied nod, he went back to his book.