Dumbledore's Perspective - Chapter Four
Dumbledore closed his eyes for a quick moment in relief. Then, he stood briskly. They had to move quickly; there would be time for questions from Harry later. He had to get them out before Minerva, or worse, Severus, saw them. "Do you have his things, Remus?"
Harry looked up at his professor, his eyes widening again. "When did you-"
Remus gave him an apologetic look. Dumbledore felt mild remorse for his tactlessness, but he stared steadily at Remus, waiting for the confirmation everything was ready. This was too important to worry over niceties. Harry would understand soon.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I shrunk your trunk when you were brushing your teeth," Remus mumbled, pulling the small square out of his robe pocket, along with a perfect miniature of Hedwig's cage.
"On my orders," Dumbledore added, still watching Remus and Sirius. "We have to move fast, Harry, so I do apologize."
"Why?" Harry asked. Dumbledore noticed Harry glancing nervously towards Sirius again; if they did not leave within a few minutes, they would lose their window. Harry was, naturally, having second thoughts, and if he gave him enough time to consider them, it would be impossible to make him leave.
"The Prophet has only admitted Pettigrew has been found; the Ministry is still trying to determine the best way to reveal that they threw an innocent man in prison for twelve years without a trial. Be that as it may, though, other students and professors will not take kindly to your disappearance. I will handle that here, but I don't want anyone to intercept us in the process."
"But Ron and Hermione will wonder-"
"We will catch them up, Harry." Remus said sincerely. "I'll give them the address to send letters to over break."
Harry looked moderately uncomfortable and Dumbledore felt another pang of remorse for putting him through so much. This is different, he insisted to himself. This is Harry's godfather. Sirius loves Harry.
Yet, as Remus led the two over to the floo, Dumbledore couldn't help but wonder if he was making yet another mistake.
No, Sirius would never hurt Harry. In fact, he would probably be one of the kindest adults Harry had ever encountered, save for Molly and Arthur Weasley. But was he really sane? Could Dumbledore trust his appearance when he had spent twelve years locked away in Azkaban? He seemed so casual, so normal, and yet… his eyes…
"You know where to go," Remus mumbled to Sirius. Sirius nodded gravely, a look of fear crossing his own features.
Dumbledore hesitated for another moment, wishing they had other options. It's all necessary, he reminded himself firmly, watching as Harry listened to Remus's instructions. There will be time for Sirius to move somewhere else. They just need to stay there for two weeks.
Just two weeks. Two weeks, and then he'll know if his plan will work at all.
Sirius's Perspective
First Remus disappeared in the green flames, and then Harry. There was silence in the Headmaster's Study as Sirius turned to face Dumbledore one last time. Dumbledore quietly passed him his wand. He didn't know whether to thank him or rage at him.
He was being given exactly what he had yearned for, yet, he felt an awful sadness. He had wanted desperately to fulfill his promise to James and Lily, but even more than that, he wanted Harry to trust him. They had just forced him to leave his friends without giving any warning, forced him to live in a random house with a stranger who had a criminal background. Not only would Sirius have to earn his trust, bit by bit, but he would have to mitigate the bitterness and resentment Harry would surely feel amidst it all.
And Harry's feeling of foreboding, Sirius was certain, would not improve when he got a good look at Grimmauld Place.
There was nothing to be done though. It was the only house Sirius owned at that moment, and it was well hidden. If Harry agreed to live with him permanently, they could search for a better, safer house together.
If he agreed, that is. Anger so sharp twisted like a knife within Sirius at the injustice, and for a moment he considered staying behind to yell at Dumbledore, to rage at him, for all he had put them through.
The way the old man was looking at him, with eyes filled with sorrow and regret, Sirius could tell he was expecting nothing less.
But even Dumbledore couldn't be entirely blamed for Sirius's twelve year stint in Azkaban. Sirius knew it, just as Harry had known it. James and Lily would be alive if Sirius had been secret keeper. He was just as guilty as Dumbledore, and the real victim of it all was not him, not even James and Lily - it was Harry.
Sirius swallowed thickly and turned towards the floo, grabbing the fine power from the bucket and stepping into the fireplace. He took one last look at Dumbledore before shouting "Grimmauld Place!"
Dumbledore's office disappeared in a whirl of ash and flame.
Sirius's Perspective - First Day of Christmas Holidays, morning time
Sirius stepped carefully out of the floo and took in his surroundings at once. Remus had enlarged Harry's trunk and owl cage and the two were glancing around the dank kitchen.
Sirius breathed in deeply, and immediately started coughing. The place smelled like mold and maggots. He forced his watering eyes open and looked around; if possible, the kitchen looked even worse than it smelled. Dead animal bones were littered across the once handsome tile floors, curtains had been ripped to shreds, mold covered food still sat out on the table. It was horrendous; the house that had filled so many of Sirius's nightmares had become, if possible, even more ghastly.
Sirius looked back towards Harry and felt his heart sink as the boy met his gaze. Harry had been as convinced as possible of Sirius's innocence when they left the office; now, seeing the awful, frightening place they had taken him, Sirius was certain Harry was prepared to fight his way back to Hogwarts.
As Remus stepped between them, Sirius felt anger boil over toward the Headmaster yet again. Did Harry really have to come today? Could they not have just spent Christmas day together, exchanged notes over the course of the next few weeks, maybe arranged a weekend visit when Sirius could actually purchase a normal fucking house?
"Let us explain- Harry, please put down your wand." Remus held his hands up in a display of surrender. "Here, Sirius, give me your wand."
Sirius passed his newly recovered wand to Remus, who then passed both of theirs to Harry. Sirius watched closely as Harry grabbed them; his features were still frightened, but the panic had left his green eyes. He watched the two of them curiously.
"This was my parents house," Sirius began, stepping around Remus. "They… they were dark wizards. I ran away when I was sixteen and your grandparents, the Potters, took me in until I was of age. I would have never brought you here if I had had a choice. Dumbledore only told me the plan minutes before we met this morning and this is the only house I own. Once my name's officially cleared, I'll start looking for somewhere more suitable."
"Why is it so dirty?" Harry asked slowly, grimacing at the molded food on the kitchen table.
"Most of my family is dead, so I guess no one's lived here in years. We had a house elf but he must have died too… or gone senile."
"One way to know," Remus mumbled, frowning slightly at Sirius.
Sirius nodded, dread erupting in the pit of his stomach as he thought of what he must do. Then, he shouted "Kreacher!"
Harry's Perspective - First Day of Christmas Holidays, morning time
There was a loud crack, and in front of them appeared a large, hairless creature. This was only the second house elf Harry had ever seen, but he immediately noticed it was far different than Dobby. Pinkish-gray skin hung off him in clumps, and he had masses of white hair sticking out of his ears. His face was wrinkled, his nose smashed. And, perhaps it was Harry's imagination, but he appeared to have a look of revulsion on his face as he stared at Black.
"Master called?" the elf croaked. "Shame of my mistress's flesh, the blood traitor has returned, and he's brought with him a werewolf and a filthy half-blood brat, once my mistress finds out-"
"Your mistress is dead," Black snapped harshly. Anger was alight in his haunted, gray gaze, and with his cruel tone, Harry's sense of foreboding grew. Could his Dad really have been friends with someone born into such a dark family? Someone with such an awful temper?
Someone who, judging by the way he was talking to his house elf, was beginning to remind Harry a bit of Lucius Malfoy?
Professor Lupin was watching Harry carefully, frowning at him; Harry got the sense he knew just what he was thinking. He swallowed thickly and looked back down at Kreacher.
"Why is this place so filthy, Kreacher?" Black asked angrily.
Kreacher looked up at Black with an expression of utmost loathing. He mumbled something about his mistress's broken heart, but Harry couldn't make out exactly what he was saying.
"He's been left alone," Lupin said after a moment, finally taking his eyes off Harry to watch Kreacher. "He probably has gone senile."
"I think it'd be kinder to just put his head on the wall like his mum than make him clean up this whole house." Black grumbled. Harry felt the color drain from his face at the implications of what Black was saying.
"You're going to murder him?" Harry said softly, anger burning within him. Black and Remus's gaze both shot toward him. Harry gripped all three of their wands, preparing to fight, preparing to run-
But Black didn't shout at the accusation, didn't even make a move towards him. He watched Harry thoughtfully, his eyes conveying a deep sadness. Then, he turned back towards the house elf. "Kreacher, are any of the rooms inhabitable?"
Kreacher continued to glare at Black. "Master's old room, my mistress's room, the guest room-"
"That's enough for the three of us," Black muttered. "Can you go tidy them up, Kreacher… er, please?"
Kreacher shot Black one final look of loathing, then disappeared with a crack. Harry watched the man, waited for him to explain what he meant by putting the house elf's head on the wall or tell him where the hell they were right now.
Black opened his mouth to speak, his expression sheepish, but Lupin stepped forward again and cut him off. "Harry, this will never work if you can't accept that Sirius is not who you thought he was. He's a good person - one of the best friends I've ever had. And I get that you were more or less forced here, I get that this house is frightening and disgusting, but that is not Sirius's fault."
"It's alright, Remus." Black mumbled. He ran a hand through his short, dark hair, pulling at the ends of it, his gaze focused on his feet. "I'd be wondering too, if I was brought to this house against my will."
Professor Lupin ignored him, his eyes remaining on Harry. "Look, Harry, I understand why you don't want to automatically trust Sirius. I even understand why you may not trust me anymore. But this comes down to if you trust Albus Dumbledore. Do you?"
Harry looked back and forth between Black and Lupin. He knew his answer even without saying it. After all he had been through these last few years, he had learned one thing: if he couldn't trust Dumbledore, he couldn't trust anyone.
Lupin and Black eyed their wands, which were still gripped tightly in Harry's hand. Slowly, Harry raised the hand holding all three of their wands and set them on the kitchen table; a peace offering in exchange for what he most needed. "I want my questions answered."
"Of course," Black said softly.
Harry eyed him carefully. Black did not seem to be a nervous man, but at that moment, he resembled a puppy with its tail between its legs. If he hadn't done anything wrong, as Dumbledore had promised him, why did he seem so ashamed?
That felt like far too personal of a question to start with, though, so Harry asked instead, "what did you mean by putting his head on the wall?"
Black blinked, as if he hadn't been prepared for that question. Then, he pinched his nose, closed his eyes, and chuckled. "I..." he started, his hand cradling his chin, a sheepish grin on his face. "I shouldn't have said that without giving context first, I guess."
Professor Lupin shot him a fond, but exasperated look, then turned to Harry. "The Black Family is an ancient and noble house, Harry, and as such, they've had generations of house elves here. They repay their dutiful service by memorializing the elf through taxidermy. Which awful relative of yours started the tradition, Sirius?"
Black smiled darkly and shook his head. "I'm not positive, to be honest, but I know my grandparents and parents participated very enthusiastically."
"I've never seen the heads myself," Lupin interjected, turning back to Harry. "Sirius told James and me when we were kids and we thought he'd lost it."
Harry watched the two of them, smiling and reminiscing on their childhood as if this were a typical Sunday afternoon for them. And despite the remaining tension, despite the stress of the morning, Harry felt fondness arise within him towards the both of them. He had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. "I'd say that's a fair reaction."
Black looked at Harry with surprise, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, well, we can't pick the family we're born into."
Harry met his eyes then and, for a moment, understanding seemed to pass between the two of them. Black was not the only one in the room born into a cruel family that didn't care for him; perhaps they had more in common than Harry thought.
Harry cleared his throat, looking back down at his trainers. "So… so why did Dumbledore make us come here so quickly?"
"You heard him," Black said, and the joking tone had left his voice. He sounded a bit angry again, and Harry realized he was not the only one annoyed with the Headmaster that morning. "He was worried someone would stop us from leaving."
"He couldn't have let you come back and clean up a bit? I have an invisibility cloak, I could've hidden somewhere." Harry said with a shrug.
"So the house isn't to your liking then?" Black said, feigning concern. "Not enough natural light? I told my mum she should've bought more lamps."
Harry tried his best not to laugh; he covered his mouth with his hand, hiding his grin, and used the moment to take a better look around the kitchen. Black and Lupin snickered behind him.
Harry took a deep breath, forcing composure as he stared at the dusty fridge, which rattled every few minutes. He still had questions, still needed more details before he could stay here for two weeks. He couldn't get comfortable just yet. "Tell me… tell me what happened when my parents were attacked. I want the full story."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lupin and Black stiffen. The room was silent for a full minute.
Anger erupted in Harry's chest again. Everyone expected him to just follow blindly, expected him to believe they knew what was best, without telling him the truth. He turned around to face them, rage burning in his gaze.
Then, he stopped short.
Neither Lupin nor Black were looking at him; they had eyes only for one another, and they were both crying.
A/N: I love to receive reviews because I find it encouraging to have both constructive criticism and positive feedback. I don't plan to reply to many of them in the course of writing this story, but I received one last night that I felt I needed to address regarding prior work I had written.
I began writing fanfiction in 2016, eight years ago. My original work, You Raise Me Up, is important to me because it's the first story I've ever attempted, and the one I stuck with the longest. I consider it now to be abandoned, though I might edit and revise it someday. I leave it up because of what it represents to me as a creative writer; however, I do not wish for my newer pieces to be judged based on this work. I feel my creative writing abilities and characterization have improved significantly, and I'm embarrassed about how badly I misrepresented Sirius and Harry in that work. A Minor Detail and Trust Freely Given will not be anything like that early piece. (Also, A Minor Detail is currently paused... I need to prove to myself I can finish a story before I tackle that one again, because I have very big plans for it).
The review questioned my mentioning of Sirius spanking Harry in You Raise Me Up. I had to go back and look because I didn't think I had ever written about that... apparently, I had forgotten, because it was mentioned (though it never actually occurred in the story). I'm not a fan of spanking and I also very much disagree with a grown man spanking a teenager, especially one with Harry's history. Ick. It's not going to happen in any other story (and to set the record straight, it didn't actually happen in You Raise Me Up). I was experimenting with Sirius as a paternal figure in that story and frankly, I think I was off the mark (with the entire story, not just that one part). My goal for my future stories is to keep it as true to their characters as I can, while also exploring what their relationship would have looked like if they had been given a chance.
One last thing - if I write about any disturbing concepts, I will put a content warning at the top. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!