Harry III
Harry and the Dursleys walked into a room. He watched Petunia talk to her husband and son, though they could not speak. Dudley and Vernon looked horrified, to the point of looking as if they would break into tears if Harry approached them.
After what happened last night, Harry's anger had diminished considerably, but unfortunately, it had not disappeared. He was still angry, but not as angry as before. "Can we go now?" asked Petunia.
Harry looked at her with disdain. "No, they're still sick; the last thing we want is for people on Privet Drive to watch at them like a bunch of retards," Harry pointed out. "Everything points to us being here for a while until the Ministry takes care of this." Petunia let out a snort of despair. A few minutes later, Harry heard someone knocking on the door. "Go ahead," he said, looking toward the door.
Tonks' mother nervously walked into the room. Harry had been astonished when she walked into the kitchen a few hours ago. She was very similar to the woman of his dreams. But with the difference that Andromeda had brown hair and, above all, she didn't have that mad look on her face,
But the beauty was the same. Harry inspected the beautiful woman in her brown dress, which accentuated her body. "I came to explain to you the method of healing your uncle and cousin," Andromeda explained. In her hands, she held a black bag. "For a month, every eight hours, they must take these potions.
Harry and Petunia watched Andromeda rummage through her purse and pull out eight small bottles. The liquid in the vials was a bright green. "This will help them recover gradually," she explained, placing the vials on the table in the room. "Here, I leave you eight vials; soon, I will be bringing you more potions until you complete the treatment."
He nodded, and out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched his aunt frown. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Tonks." Harry thanked her with a beaming smile.
"There's nothing to be thankful for," Andromeda said calmly.
"I didn't know you were a member of this... association," said Harry calmly.
Andromeda shook her head. "I'm not part of the order," she said, with a smile. "My husband does; I just heal them."
"Oh," he muttered, nodding slightly.
Andromeda went to Petunia and gave the Dursleys one last inspection. Harry turned and looked at Petunia, looking suspiciously at Andromeda. Harry walked around the living room. In just one night, the elf of the black house had cleaned a large part of the house. Harry theorized that it was because of his show with the parsel.
"House Black is a fan of the Dark Arts." Harry thought, looking around. He watched the long, high-ceilinged room on the first floor with olive-green walls, green velvet curtains, large windows facing the street in front of the house, a large fireplace flanked by two ornate glass-fronted cabinets, as well as a large black piano.
Harry watched the living room door open, and Kreacher, the house elf, edged into the room. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked. It looked very old. Its skin seemed to be several times too big for it, and though it was bald like all house elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of its large, batlike ears. Its eyes were a bloodshot and watery gray, and its fleshy nose was large and rather snoutlike.
The elf took absolutely no notice of Harry or the others. As if he had not seen them, he shuffled in, hunched over, walking slowly and obstinately, and went to the back of the room, still muttering under his breath in a low, harsh voice like that of a bullfrog.
"It smells like a drain." Kreacher muttered, looking at Andromeda. "And if that wasn't enough, there are criminals, but she's not much better—a nasty old blood traitor with her brats who mess up my Mistress's house. Oh, my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do?"
"What do you say?" asked Harry.
The house elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise. "Oh, Harry Potter," Kreacher said, bowing. "Kreacher was just cleaning up."
He looked at the elf suspiciously. "Really?" Andromeda said, behind Harry, looking angrily at the house elf.
When he saw Andromeda, Kreacher's pale eyes widened more furiously than ever. And the old elf flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor. "Stand up straight," Harry ordered. looking nonchalantly at the elf.
He had seen that Kreacher was an elf who hated Sirius and everyone, insulting them in whispers as he cleaned up. "Kreacher was just cleaning," the elf repeated, bowing to Harry.
"I was warned about you; you have been hiding things to avoid being thrown away," Andromeda growled.
Kreacher looked at Andromeda in disgust. " "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black," Kreacher said. "Not like a certain witch who married a mudblood."
"Silence!" Andromeda growled. "I forbid you to insult my husband."
Kreacher bowed again, and without another word, he went away, whispering insults to Andromeda. "He doesn't seem to like you very much," Harry said, looking at Andromeda.
She let out a snort. "He was always a git," Andromeda growled, shaking his head. "Even when I was a kid."
"Apparently, having been locked up for more than 10 years, having orders from that portrait didn't sit well with him at all," Harry added.
Harry made his way to the wall where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall.
Harry looked at the tapestry; looked immensely old; it was faded and looked as though doxies had gnawed it in places; nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show them a sprawling family tree dating back (as far as Harry could tell) to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read:
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
"Toujours Pur"
"The black family tree," Andromeda said behind him.
Harry looked at the names of dozens of wizards and witches on the tapestry. "You're not on here," he said, looking for the names of Andromeda and Sirius.
"Nor Sirius," Andromeda added, standing beside him. "But in the past, our names were written on this tapestry," pointing to a small, round hole with singed edges, which looked like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old aunt erased us when I married my husband and when Sirius escaped from this asylum."
"Did Sirius run away from home?" he asked.
Andromeda nodded. "All I know is that he ran away to your grandparents' place." Andromeda said, with a sad smile. "He was only sixteen."
Harry was confused. "My grandparents?" he asked.
Andromeda looked at him. "Don't you know who your grandparents are?" she asked.
Harry smiled wryly. "I only found out who my parents were five years ago, and I had a godfather for two years," he replied.
"Oh," Andromeda said. "Well, here's your grandparent's names." She said, pointing to two people on the tapestry.
Harry read the names. "Dorea Potter, née Black," Harry muttered for the first time. "Charlus Potter."
Harry looked at the tapestry and traced the names of his grandparents with his fingers. "They died in 1980," Harry muttered.
"Yes, it was a sad funeral, a year before all the horrible things happened," Andromeda said. "I'm afraid they got sick with Dragon Pox; they were already elderly people."
Harry stroked the names sadly. "That makes us..."
"family," Andromeda said.
Harry kept his anger to himself. He knew she wasn't to blame for anything; after all, it had been Dumbledore who had put him with the Dursleys. "We always believed you were safe with your mother's family," Andromeda said to him.
"After all, Dumbledore put me there," Harry sneered.
Andromeda nodded. "And who are these?" asked Harry, pointing to the other two women next to Andromeda's name.
Harry saw her frowning. "My sisters," Andromeda growled. "Bellatrix Lestrange, my older sister, is a mad witch and a murderer; she spends her life in Azkaban with her husband, as they are both Death Eaters."
Harry nodded and looked at the face in the tapestry of Bellatrix and then Andromeda. "You look a lot alike," Harry said.
Andromeda nodded. "Unfortunately, there are people who think we were twins when we were kids, but she has black hair like night," Andromeda explained. "This one here is Narcissa Malfoy, a Death Eater like her filthy husband Lucius," she cursed them, shaking her head.
"Then that curvy-black haired woman I've dreamed of is Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry thought.
Andromeda continued explaining him the names of the people in the tapestry. Harry discovered that there was a more deranged Black than the previous one, and that made him wonder to himself: what kind of Potter would there be in his family tree?
Harry looked at her when she explained to him about Nigellus Black. Andromeda had beautiful, fair skin, brown hair with those cute curls, a snub nose—everything about her screamed pure blood. "I'm surprised you're related to a lot of people," Harry said, hearing that Black and Molly were related.
Andromeda smiled slightly. "All pure-blooded houses are related to each other by marriage, as it was believed that this was the only way to keep the blood clean. Maybe you're related to some other house; you just have to investigate," Andromeda explained.
He nodded. "Anyway, I'd better go," Andromeda said.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tonks," Harry said, shaking hands with the beautiful woman.
"Just call me Andromeda," she said with a smile.
He nodded. "Of course, Andromeda," Harry said.
He escorted her to the entrance, where Sirius was waiting for her. "I'll be back in a couple of days with the next dose of potions," Andromeda said, picking up his trench coat.
Sirius said goodbye to his cousin, and Andromeda left Grimmauld, leaving Harry and Sirius in the hall. "Harry," Sirius called him.
Harry looked nonchalantly at his godfather. "What?" he asked.
Sirius looked nervous, and in the daylight, Harry could see Sirius' bruised face. "I wanted to talk to you," Padfoot continued.
"But we've talked in the kitchen before, Sirius," he remarked. With a smile, Sirius nodded.
" I want to apologize," Sirius confessed.
Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes and walk away, but the fact that he saw his godfather begging for his affection was amusing to him. "Sirius," Harry said, walking toward him.
Sirius looked nervous and looked at the ground instead of Harry. He stopped in front of Sirius. "I don't want you apologizes," Harry said, his godfather turning him in the face. "But show it that you really feel it, uncle or maybe cousin. What relationships do we have because of my grandmother Dorea?"
Padfoot opened his eyes in surprise. "You already know it," he murmured.
Harry nodded. "I just found out," Harry said.
Sirius looked at the floor. "I was going to tell you," Padfoot assured him, Harry letting out a slight smile.
"Sure, Padfoot," Harry said sarcastically, patting Sirius' arm. "Anyway, it looks like we're going to be locked up for a couple more days until the Great Albus Dumbledore makes an appearance; you'd better not look at me like I'm a stranger."
Sirius nodded. "Another thing, you don't mind me taking a look at your library, do you, Padfoot?" asked Harry.
"Of course not; this is your home, Harry; you can do whatever you like," Sirius assured. Harry nodded slightly.
"Good," Harry said, saying goodbye to Sirius and leaving him in the entrance. There was something in his head that had been bothering him for some days.
In his visions, Harry had heard a lot a word Voldemort used to torture his hostages. "Legilimens," Harry muttered, remembering seeing Voldemort place his wand in the temples of his victims.
Harry walked through the house; on the second landing, he saw Hermione and Ginny cleaning the rooms, while the twins and Ron cleaned another area of the house. Seeing him, Hermione and Ginny fell silent. "Hello," he said, greeting them with a slight nod from his head.
Because of his anger, he had not been able to appreciate the beauty of his Hermione and Ginny. His best friend had become much more beautiful with the passing of the summers, with her brown hair down to her shoulders with a few curls, her upturned nose and pearly skin, her thin lips, and her slender and small body.
Hermione's beauty was something that had gone unnoticed by him for all these five years. To his right, Harry looked at Ginny, her hair red as fire and her skin white as ivory; both were dressed in Muggle clothes, with Hermione in a pink and white striped polo shirt and white shorts with Converse shoes.
And Ginny, wearing a tight-fitting blue long-sleeved Henley T-shirt with white stripes and denim jeans. "Do you need help?" asked Harry quietly.
"No, thank you!" said Hermione nervously. "We're done."
Harry could feel the nervousness in her voice, or maybe it was fear. Although Harry was still furious with them, the last thing he wanted was for everyone to think he was a monster. All these people here were useful to him in one way or another.
Harry nodded. "About last night," he began, with his mock apology, walking toward them. "I'm sorry you saw my rude behavior."
"We understand you, Harry," Ginny said. "You don't have to apologize."
He gave Ron's sister a smile. "Thank you, Gin," he thanked, making her blush.
He'd known for a while that Ginny had a crush on him, but Harry had never tried to win Ginny over, especially since she was Ron's sister. "I don't bother you anymore," Harry said goodbye, continuing on his way to the Black Library.
Upon entering, Harry saw that the library was more of an office of sorts; in the room, there were four two-meter shelves filled with books. Harry observed that Kreacher had already cleaned this place. "Where do I begin?" asked Harry, looking at the hundreds of books in the room.
He only had the word Legilimens as a reference; Harry had seen that by using that spell, people would be left in a trance state. "I only know that Voldemort used it to see people's memories," Harry thought, remembering seeing Voldemort know when someone lied to them when using that spell.
"I think I'll start here," Harry murmured, reaching over to a shelf and starting to look for a book to help him.
He took four volumes and took them to the black desk. The first four books didn't help him at all; most of them talked about blood rituals, potions, and other branches of magic.
Knowing that if he searched on his own, it would take hours, he decided to call someone who knew this house inside out. "Kreacher," Harry said.
Out of nowhere, the old elf appeared in front of Harry. "The young master has summoned, Kreacher," he said, with a slight bow.
Harry didn't know whether to trust the elf; even though it seemed that he had lost a screw from spending ten years alone, Kreacher was saner and more aware than his master Sirius. "I need you to get me some books out of all these that talk about something called Legilimens and others related to it," Harry ordered.
Kreacher looked at him for a moment. "Master Potter has ordered; Kreacher will," the elf muttered. Harry watched him snap his fingers, and two large tomes from the top of the third shelf flew into the elf's hands. "Here, he's got Harry Potter."
The elf placed the tomes on the desk. "You can leave, Kreacher," Harry ordered, looking at the covers of the volumes.
"Occlumancy: The Art of Protecting Your Mind" and "The Art of Legilimens and the Forms of Torture."
He started with the book about the Occlumancy, as it was something Harry had never heard before. Harry sat down in the huge black leather chair. He took the book in his hands and opened it.
For an hour and a half, Harry read about the art of closing your mind to wizards who used Legilimency, which was the magic used to penetrate people's minds, discover their resources, thoughts, and feelings, or influence the actions of others.
Harry learned how to use Occlumancy and exercises to raise shields so they can't penetrate your mind. Although reading it was easier than using it.
"If I use this, I'll stop having the memories of Voldemort," Harry theorized, reading the exercises to start using Occlumancy. "Or better yet, if I learn to use this, I might be able to access the memories consciously, and maybe it will help me stop being angry all the time."
Immersed in his reading, Harry did not hear Mrs. Weasley enter until she had set down a tray on the desk. "Harry." Ginny's mother's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, a little surprised to hear her.
Molly smiled. "Excuse me, honey, knock, but you didn't answer. I brought you some sandwiches and some tea; Sirius told me you were up here," Molly said.
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Weasley," he thanked, taking a sandwich and taking a bite. Harry hadn't realized how hungry he was until he provoked Molly's food.
As he drank his tea, Harry inspected Mrs. Weasley in her olive-green dress; she had lost considerable weight this summer, perhaps due to the stress of Voldemort's resurrection and his son Percy being angry with them. "You look very beautiful, Mrs. Weasley," Harry remarked, seemingly taking Ron's mother by surprise.
Molly chuckled slightly. "Harry, what things are you saying?" Molly said, a little embarrassed.
"Have you lost weight?" he continued, taking another bite out of his sandwich.
Molly put her hands on her belly; there was still a little fat there, but it was nothing compared to before. "Well yes, I'm afraid this situation with You-Know-Who and Percy has made me lose weight; I think I lost about 33 pounds this summer," Molly confessed. Harry nodded.
He could tell it with her now oval face, which in the past was totally round, not to mention her huge tits that were still just as huge. " It suits you very well this change," Harry continued with a smile.
"You look handsome in that suit too," Molly laughed, trying to hide her blush. He just smiled broadly.
Because of the dreams he has been having, Harry has acquired a taste for suits. As he looked into dozens of Voldemort's memories, he found that in his youth, he wore many suits. "Thank you; I wanted to do a change of clothes this summer," he said.
"What do you read, Harry?" asked Molly.
Harry closed the book. "About Occlumancy and Legilimency," Harry confessed, sipping from the tea.
Hearing that, Molly was shocked. "Harry, that's advanced magic for you!" she assured.
Harry shrugged. "Maybe, but it will help us to be prepared. I've heard that Voldemort used Legilimency to torture people in the first war," Harry confessed grimly.
Molly trembled in fear at the mention of Voldemort's name. " Anyway, has been any news of Dumbledore?" asked Harry.
She shook her head. "I'm afraid not, honey; we just have to wait until the day of your hearing," Molly explained.
It was something he expected, Dumbledore wasn't a person who said much; he most likely knew about Harry's behavior. He cared what Dumbledore thought; the answer was no. "Well, Harry, I'll let you go on," Molly said, once Harry had finished the sandwiches.
He watched her pick up the tray, his eyes never leaving Molly's body, so that she could feel him staring at her completely. Nervously, the matriarch Weasley left the library, leaving Harry alone with his study.
When he finished reading half of the book, Harry got up from his seat, put the books back in their place, and left the library. There wasn't much to do in that house except walk through the halls and rooms. But in his mind, a certain blonde-haired woman came to mind.
"It's been a while since I've played with my sweet aunt," Harry thought.
Harry went upstairs, where Dudley and Vernon were sleeping; they were probably sleeping due to Andromeda's potion, and his aunt must have been taking care of them. Harry opened the door slowly, and indeed, his Aunt Petunia was sitting on the edge of Dudley's bed.
Harry looked at Petunia in her white strapless dress, and he got a boner. He slowly slid across the room, unnoticed. Petunia didn't notice him, even when he stood behind her.
"You shouldn't sit with your back to a door," Harry said, placing his hand on his aunt's shoulder.
Petunia jumped, but he quickly covered her mouth so she wouldn't scream. "You don't want to wake poor Duddy, do you?" he asked.
Harry sensed how tense she was in his presence. Slowly, Harry withdrew his hand from his aunt's mouth. "You scared me," Petunia growled, fearful.
He ignored her and walked over to Dudley and Vernon's beds. Harry looked at his sleeping cousin and uncle, both of them looking nothing like how he remembered them. "Look at him," Harry said, seeing Vernon's sleeping face. "Reduced to a few shells, I remember this pig beating me up as a child."
Petunia didn't say a word; he turned to her, his aunt looking at him warily. "I hope you haven't forgotten our agreement," he warned. Standing in front of her, Harry placed his hand on his aunt's chin and forced her to look him in the face. With his thumb, Harry caressed Petunia's red lips.
"Not here," her aunt whispered fearfully. "Please not in front, Dudley."
"Why not?" he asked, caressing her cheek.
Petunia closed her eyes and let him caress her. "I don't want to be humiliated in front of my son," she said.
Harry let out a slight laugh. "Oh, sweet auntie, that's why I'm doing it," he assured her. Harry stopped stroking her, unbuckled his belt buckle, and unbuttoned his trousers. His aunt stared at him in horror; this would be the first time he would go this far with her. "I'll leave the rest to you."
Petunia looked him in the eye and then fixed her gaze on the bulge in Harry's pants. "I suggest you hurry; you don't want your husband and son to catch us," Harry warned her with a mischievous smile.
With her hands shaking, Petunia prostrated both hands on Harry's pants. He watched with delight as his aunt looked at her husband and son's bed every second. But in the end, Petunia slowly pulled Harry's trousers and boxers down to his knees.
Petunia gasped at the sight of Harry's virile member for the first time. After his battle against Voldemort, Harry had not only grown in stature and muscle mass but also in other parts of his body. "Surprised to see a cock that isn't surrounded by fat and pubes?" he sneered, his 8 1/2-inch cock prostrating itself to stop her. "Come on, take it, I now you want it." Harry ordered, slapping her with his cock.
With a strong blush on her pretty face, Petunia took his cock between her hands. At the sensation of her aunt's soft, warm hands around his cock, Harry let out a moan. "Fuck," he growled.
Slowly and fearfully, Petunia began to stroke his cock awkwardly; her strokes were dumb, and as she advanced, Petunia gained more courage. "Yes, that's it," Harry gasped, watching the woman who had made his life miserable for years stroking his cock. "Put it in your mouth, Aunt Petunia."
She looked at him with terrified eyes. Harry pushed his hips forward and pressed the tip of his cock against her mouth, the rose of her lips against his glans sending electric shocks down his body. Having no choice but to obey, Petunia opened her lips, swallowing his cock. "Fuck!" growled Harry, feeling Petunia's warm, wet mouth.
His aunt gobbled the first few inches in her mouth. The feeling of his first blowjob was unbelievable to him; it was nothing compared to masturbating. Harry pushed his cock into her mouth, forcing her to take more cock than she could handle. His aunt pulled it out of her mouth, coughing as she choked. She glared at him, and Harry smiled maliciously. "Too much for you?"
"Let's done with this," her aunt growled, taking his cock back in her hand and spitting on his cock.
"How dirty you are, Aunt Petunia," he growled, seeing how she spat on his cock.
Petunia traced her tongue on his cock from the tip to the base and then shoved it into her mouth, her head slowly starting to rise and fall. "Fuck, how sexy you look with my cock in your mouth," he said, stroking her blonde hair.
She looked up, and Harry saw her green eyes staring at him with fear and hate. "I can feel how much you love my cock," he sneered, grabbing a fist of her blonde hair between his fingers. "From your reaction, I can guess that my cock is bigger than that pig's over there."
Petunia moaned a little, but with the cock in her mouth, she couldn't talk. "What do you say, Aunt Petunia?" he asked mockingly. "You have a cock in your mouth; I can't hear you." His tongue caressed his base, making him close his eyes.
With her two hands and mouth, Petunia made him moan and growl beside her husband. "Look at you sucking your nephew's cock in front of your husband and son," Harry growled. Petunia took his cock out of her mouth and spat it out.
"Please," she begged, quickly stroking him with both hands.
Harry smiled and stroked her cheek. "If you want make me cum, you're going to have to try harder," he said.
She rubbed his cock, which was soaked in her saliva between her lips, and took a bite out of it to her mouth. Petunia began to gobble up his cock more. "Right there, you fucking incestuous bitch," he insulted her. The room was filled with Petunia's lascivious sounds and Harry's moans, his hands prostrating themselves on Petunia's head and forcing her to go deeper.
"Gahhh!" gasped Petunia, taking a breath of air.
"Suck my balls, filthy whore," he ordered.
Obediently, Petunia took his balls in his mouth. He watched his aunt suck on one of her balls. "Yes, I can see how much you love my cock," he assured her, slapping her face with his cock.
When his balls were slippery, Petunia resumed her blowjob. "Fuck, Aunt Petunia, I'm so close," he warned her, feeling his orgasm about to approach.
Petunia, hearing it, quickened her fellatio, making him grunt. "Phewit, Aunt Petunia, you are very greedy!" Harry said, panting. "I want you make me come using only your mouth."
She withdrew her hands from his cock, her mouth engulfing six inches of Harry's cock. He fucked her throat hard and rough, making her gag, but at no point did she pull his cock out of her mouth. "Here it comes!" Harry warned, pulling his cock out of her mouth.
Petunia closed her eyes, and Harry stroked his cock quickly. "Open your mouth!" he growled, shooting his cum into his aunt's face.
The first strings of cum fell on her forehead and swept across her eyes and nose; shot after shot, landed in Petunia's mouth, thick white liquid pooling in her mouth. In the end, her aunt was full of cum running down her face. "You look so much better with my semen in your face," Harry assured her, catching his breath.
Petunia closed her mouth, and he watched her swallow his cum. "Wow, I didn't even have to ask you; I can see how much you love cum," Harry sneered, pulling up his pants.
"I hope you're happy," Petunia said sarcastically.
"Oh, my lovely aunt, I'm more than glad," Harry assured, that blowjob having taken away his irritation. "But now I'd better leave you; I don't want to disturb your time with your family, don't forget to kiss your family goodnight."
Harry walked to the door and walked out of the room. The buildup of stress and anger he had had these weeks had magically gone when he spilled his cum on his aunt's face. Harry went into the twins' room and talked to them for a bit.
At the end of the night, Harry had dinner with everyone, and at bedtime, his aunt again gave him a blowjob. Harry wanted to fuck her and possess her, but it wasn't fun; he wanted to take time with Petunia and annoy her, to the point where she enjoyed it.
In the morning, Harry got up before his aunt to continue studying about Occlumancy. The night before he had used the exercises that the book mentioned, it had been a bit complicated for him to have to empty his mind and leave it completely blank so that no emotion or memory would come to his mind and disturb his state.
But after several hours of trying, Harry had finally managed to empty his mind and leave it blank. But doing so had cost him a colossal effort, and he had ended up tired as if he had been running for hours. But with the right mental and emotional discipline, Harry would master the Occlumancy.
Harry got out of bed and looked at his aunt, who was asleep naked at his command. He left the room and proceeded to take a long bath. Last night, when he spoke to the twins, the subject of the money of the Triwizard tournament came up. Harry had given them the money to open a joke shop.
He had given it to her because he didn't want to have the money, especially since it reminded him of Cedric's death. He tried to give it to Mrs. Weasley, but she had flatly denied it, so he ended up giving it to the twins, who had told him that they would like to open a joke shop.
In between that conversation, Harry had let them know that he wanted royalties for the products they were going to sell in his store. The twins had more than agreed with him, not that Harry needed the gold after all his vault at Gringotts was full.
But the more gold he had, the better for him. Harry got out of the shower and dressed in a dark gray suit. Although he had calmed his anger, the people in the house still looked at him warily. A certain part of him liked to be feared, but he tried not to scare them too much.
Especially because he would rather be loved than feared, Voldemort's followers fawned over him because they believed in him, but in reality, they feared him for his cruelty, his inhumanity, and his ease of killing his vassals as if they were mere animals. But despite that, the Death Eaters followed Voldemort because they believed that he was the only way to lead a magical society of only pure blood.
Unlike Dumbledore, the Order followed the old wizard because he represented the light and goodness, the wizard who fights dark wizards and protects everyone from evil, but deep down, Dumbledore was not much different from Voldemort, as he also has followers who would die for him. Dumbledore had managed to convince a lot of people that Harry was the chosen one; he remembered how many people had come for him the night the Dementors attacked and that they were willing to die if he got to Grimmauld?
"What if I build my own entourage of followers?" he wondered. The people of the Order were not loyal to him, but to Dumbledore; everything Harry and Voldemort did went to Dumbledore's ears, and that was something he didn't like at all.
"But if I'm going to create an entourage like the Death Eaters and the Order, what kind of people am I going to add?" asked Harry, emerging from the bathroom once he was ready.
If he wanted to know information about Voldemort and a way to defeat him, Harry would need people who were aware of the events. Trying to convince the Weasleys was going to be difficult, and people like Arthur and his sons Charlie and Bill were loyal to Dumbledore.
But they were the ones who had information about what was going on in the Ministry and in Gringotts; on the contrary, Percy was Fudge's lapdog, and rightly so; he was the one who had the best salary than his father and was in a privileged position. By supporting Dumbledore, Percy would lose all his influence there, even if it was Fudge's dog.
That left Harry with Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley. Of those, Harry only had three of them, who were the twins and Mrs. Weasley. The twins could be useful in a sense; they were of age, and with the joke shop, they could have ears in Diagon Alley. That left Ron and Ginny.
The two of them didn't serve Harry much; Ron was stubborn as hell, and he would hardly get him to stop following Dumbledore. Ginny, on the other hand, was malleable; he knew he could take advantage of her.
His goal was to train as many wizards as possible by the time the war against Voldemort began. he had no doubt that this year the school would be full of upcoming Death Eaters, so it would be essential to be prepared.
Harry went down to the first floor. The house felt different with no one in the hallways. Harry looked at the light in the kitchen and walked over there. As he entered, he looked at Mrs. Weasley preparing breakfast. He stood at the door and watched Ginny's mother walk by the stove. She was wearing a pink floral dress. Harry growled softly at the sight of her.
There was no doubt that she looked very good. "Good morning," Harry said.
"By Morgana's skirts!" exclaimed Molly, about jumping and turning around. "Harry, honey, please don't scare me."
Harry let out a faint smile and walked through the kitchen. "I'm sorry," he apologized, standing three feet away from Molly.
She shook her head. "It's okay, Hun," she said, returning to the stove. "Breakfast will be ready in minutes."
"Can I help you with anything, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked.
"Oh no, dear, you sit down, and I'll serve you breakfast right away," Molly said in her usual motherly tone.
Harry took a seat and admired Molly's body. She had a big butt, and most of the fat she had lost had gone straight to her ass and tits. "I forgot to mention that you look very beautiful today, Mrs. Weasley," he praised.
Molly smiled happily, and Harry saw a slight blush on the woman's face. "Thank you, honey," she said, modeling her dress. "I appreciate that you're the only one who sees that I've changed."
Harry raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm afraid of this whole Voldemort thing; no one but you have mentioned my weight loss," Molly said quietly.
"Well, they should tell you how good it looks," Harry assured her. While his words were meant to try to win her over, there was truth in them. Molly now looked sexy.
She walked over to him and pinched his cheek lovingly. "Thank you, Harry," Molly thanked. "You're quite a gentleman; you'll make any witch happy."
"Oh, I can make you happy right now," he thought, looking at her round ass.
Mrs. Molly served him breakfast, which consisted of fried eggs with bacon and pancakes. When the clock struck eight in the morning, everyone began to come downstairs; the first to come down was Hermione, who was still in her pajamas.
"Good morning," Harry greeted her, sipping from his coffee and seeing Hermione in her pink panda pajamas and white shirt.
Then Ginny, Sirius, and the others came downstairs, breakfast passed quietly, and there was just a little tension between Petunia and the others. She still looked at them with contempt, even though they were the ones who saved her family's life.
Molly said goodbye to her husband and children who had left for work, and for the rest of the morning, Harry spent his time in the library. At noon, Harry walked out of the studio to the first floor and found everyone cleaning. Upon entering the living room, Harry looked at Sirius, Ron, and Hermione cleaning. The house was full of antiques in the drawers and shelves that needed to be removed.
He helped clean up, not because he wanted to, but because of the valuables he could find. Harry watched as Sirius got rid of things from the Black house that were valuable, most of them because of his godfather's hate for his house, he didn't mind getting rid of them.
Harry helped Ginny clean up; together, they cleaned a part of the house. Ginny came up with the idea of slamming the lid shut. A huge locket fell to the ground.
"What's that?" asked Ginny.
Harry picked up the locket, whispers began to whisper in his head, and he let out a faint grunt of annoyance. "Are you okay, Harry?" asked Ginny, worried.
"Yes," he lied, handing her the locket.
That strange thing had made him feel strange. They put the locket on a shelf when no one could open it and continued to clean the house. As they cleaned up, Harry discovered the importance of House Black when he found an Order of Merlin, First Class,
That had been awarded to Sirius's grandfather for "Services to the Ministry." When House Black gave gold to the Ministry. Kreacher had tried to sneak into the room several times, but Sirius ran him out, as the elf only wanted to steal things to prevent them from being stolen.
Cleaning out a drawer, Harry found a gold ring with the emblem of the House of Black engraved on an onyx stone. "That ring was my father's," Sirius said scornfully.
Harry looked at the ring with interest. "Won't you mind if I keep it?" asked Harry.
His godfather shrugged. "Keep it; if you see something of interest here, you can take it," said his godfather with a wink.
Harry nodded, put the ring on his index finger, and continued with cleaning the house. At dusk, when the sun was setting, the doorbell rang, and everyone was silent to know who the people were who came. "It's Snape," said Ginny, who was looking out the window.
"Everybody goes upstairs now," Molly ordered.
Reluctantly, her sons and Hermione went upstairs to the second floor. Harry stayed in the living room with Mrs. Weasley and Sirius; she looked at him worriedly, but Harry would not leave; he went to the kitchen, where Mr. Weasley and his children were already there.
Both looked at each other anxiously for the meeting. Harry took a seat at the end of the table as usual and waited for the members of the order to enter. The first to enter was Molly, followed by Professor McGonagall, who opened her eyes at the sight of him. "Potter," she said, surprised.
He just nodded, and then came Severus Snape, who frowned at the sight of him. "Apparently not only have you let Potter humiliate you, Black, but you also succumbed to pressure from a spoiled child to tell him everything," Snape growled, looking at Harry.
The Occlumancyexercises Harry had been doing to keep his mind blank faltered as they looked at Snape. The voices in his head hissed in his mind, and he let out a slight grunt of annoyance. "Harry deserves to know what's going on," Sirius said, furious at Snape.
The two began to argue, annoying Harry. "You're going to say what your master is doing, or you're just here to bother everyone with your presence," Harry growled coldly.
Everyone was silent, and Snape looked at Harry, a little surprised. "Master?" asked Arthur.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Didn't Dumbledore tell you?" asked Harry.
"Harry," McGonagall muttered, a little worried about what he was going to say.
"You better ask him or Dumbledore," Harry growled. looking at the Transfiguration professor.
For the rest of the meeting, Harry didn't say anything; he just listened carefully to the information that Snape and McGonagall gave. He also found out about their visit to the ministry. At the end of the meeting, the two Hogwarts professors left.
"What did you mean that Snape has a Master?" asked Charlie.
Harry looked at him seriously. "Ask Dumbledore," he growled, rising from his chair and walking out of the kitchen.
Dumbledore I
Tiredness made him sigh in the solitude of his office; another meeting had gone wrong between him and Fudge, no matter how many times he wanted to make the Ministry of Magic understand. Cornelius didn't listen to reasons, no matter how hard he tried to warn him about the Voldemort return.
Mainly because Cornelius was paranoid that he may have had designs on the role of Minister himself. "Being a minister is the last thing I want to be," Dumbledore thought, stuffing a sour treat into his mouth.
During these weeks, Voldemort had been strengthening himself in anonymity, recruiting magical creatures for his war. Meanwhile, Albus had been trying to recruit some creatures, but the task was more difficult. Bill had not made much progress with the goblins, and for his part, he planned to send Hagrid and Madame Maxime to Minsk to talk to the giants in an attempt to convince them to join the Order.
He got up from his seat and walked through his office towards his phoenix, the memory of Harry Potter coming to his mind. Albus hadn't heard a single good thing during these days; everything seemed to indicate that his young student had gone through a drastic change after his battle against Voldemort.
Harry had gone through a grieving process, as he had seen his friend Cedric die in front of him helplessly, and he had put the boy in confinement, away from any information.
Fawkes let out a sad trill, as if he knew Albus's thoughts. "You know what's going to happen to him," he murmured, stroking the phoenix's plumage. Fawkes let out another trill, but this time with fury. "If I could change his fate myself, I would, but I'm afraid that the Horcrux inside him has fused with his soul; there's nothing I can do for him; at least it's not possible anymore. A part of Riddle now lives inside Harry; without the possibility of being removed."
Fawkes let out another trill so sad that it almost brought Albus to tears, and a single tear poured out of his eye. He watched his phoenix flap its wings and take flight, leaving him alone in his office. Albus had believed that there was a way to save the boy, but that possibility had been gone a month ago.
Albus closed his eyes and remembered Alastor's memory. Harry had changed physically thanks to the Horcrux; his face, his height, strength and his behavior had changed drastically. That was why he decided to keep Harry isolated so that Voldemort would not know anything about what the Order was planning.
But his whole plan had been ruined because of the Dementors; now he had to defend Harry in a trial, and everything had been handed on a silver platter for the Ministry to get rid of Harry Potter and his speech about Voldemort's resurrection.
Albus went back to his desk and waited for his informant; he didn't have to wait long because, half an hour later, Snape entered his office. From his face, Albus sensed that it hadn't gone well at all.
"What has happened?" asked Dumbledore.
"He knows," growled Severus.
"Know what?"
"Everything, everything about Voldemort, everything about the Order, and about me being a spy for Voldemort," Severus exclaimed furiously.
Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed wearily. "Apparently Black and the sleeve of incompetents succumbed to Potter's change and told him every last detail," Severus continued.
This was worse than Dumbledore thought. "I need your memory for the last hours, Severus," Albus said calmly, pulling a vial from his desk.
Snape walked through his office and picked up the vial. "Potter also knows that I was part of Voldemort's inner circle," Severus said.
Another piece of bad news for Albus: Severus put his wand to his temple and extracted his memory of the last few hours. "Why has Potter changed so much?" asked Severus. Albus saw a hint of fear on Severus' face that vanished instantly.
He took the vial and put it in his robe. "I'm afraid I don't know," Albus lied blatantly. He knew what was wrong with Harry Potter, he had known the truth for fifteen years, the moment Albus inspected little Harry.
Severus looked at him suspiciously, as if, deep down, he didn't believe in Albus. "But I'll look into it; I'm afraid Harry has gone through a series of traumatic events after his battle with Voldemort," Albus noted, in an attempt to assuage Severus' doubts. "About his physical change, I attribute it to his growth due to his age. I'm sure he looks a lot like James now, as you know."
Severus frowned at the mention of his archrival from the past. "And about his hostile behavior... the isolation I subjected him to made him believe that we had abandoned him," Albus continued.
At the end of the night, Albus, in the loneliness of his office, took a deep breath, thinking about the future of Harry Potter.