Chapter 7: Hey, Sirius, Nice Painting.
This one just came to me a few days ago, but I was working and couldn't write it down. So, it's different than I envisioned.
Thanks for all the reviews.
Hphphp
The meeting broke up from there, and Harry decided to meet with Remus for a while. Remus took Harry to another part of the house and introduced him to his godfather, Sirius Black, in the form of a painting. The rest of the house was just as run down as the outside was. The rugs were worn, the wallpaper was almost nonexistent, the paint was faded, and there were dead house elf heads moth eaten on the walls. It was a house of horrors.
Harry followed the werewolf up the stairs passed portraits of past Blacks that were calling from their frames, but he couldn't make out who they were, their paintings were so dirty. Until they came to a few nicer ones that were clearer. Sirius's was the cleanest of the bunch. It only had a few layers of dust on the frame and looked like it was a few years old.
The werewolf had discovered it when they first moved into the house, way back when Sirius had been Kissed. He had been talking with the painting for over a year now. It had not been an amicable relationship, but they had been getting on well enough to have an okay rapport. Well, at least they weren't fighting.
"Hello, Harry," said Sirius. His eyes looked at the boy with something akin to greed. Like a dying man looking at water just out of his reach.
"Hello, Sirius," said Harry. "So, you're my godfather, are you?" He was looking at the painting with something similar to sadness. There was a bit of desperation in those eyes. A loss he didn't know he could feel. He was feeling that emotion he felt in his cupboard when Dudley was getting kisses from Petunia, and he was sitting there all alone. Sirius would have given him those kisses, but now the man was dead.
"Yeah, Sorry I couldn't meet you when I was alive," the painting said the tone was one of loss. A deep bone felt loss. He felt that loss every day in prison. The Dementors made him feel it desperately all the time. He didn't know he was sharing that feeling with young Harry.
Harry turned to Remus and said, "And where have you been all my life?" He was angry. He was very angry that there was somebody that should have been in this life that was not there for him. Sirius he could understand, but this guy… he was just not there. There was no excuse.
"Well, as you know, I'm a werewolf and I have been doing werewolf things. I wouldn't have been able to take you in because of my affliction," the man stated. To him, this was all the excuses that he needed. It's all the reason he ever needed. It worked in the wizarding world.
"That's bloody bullshit and you know it. You could have come and found me on the streets, and we could have run together," the teenage boy said. All but ready to push the man down the stairs. He wasn't buying that line of bull. Those were just words to him. Excuses. And lame ones at that.
"I had no idea you were living on the streets," Remus said, looking at him as if it was all news to him. "Dumbledore told me that you were in a loving home." He looked at him with puppy dog eyes, as if begging him to forgive him for his trespasses. He knew he had screwed up when it came to Harry, but he was a werewolf, he couldn't' have done anything different.
"Well, it probably was, until that moron made the wish. Who knows. The Durlseys might have been loving. Though I doubt it. But they aren't now, they were abusive, and then I got my wish and turned my relatives into farm animals and then was on the streets. The whole bloody world changed. So, in another reality, you are probably living the high life with a very loving and caring Harry Potter. In this reality, you got me," said Harry, grinning at both of them with his scarred face as if daring them to make light of it. He liked who he was. He liked being the badass he was.
"What about me? What do you think I'm doing in this other reality?" asked Sirius, also sporting a shit-eating grin on his face.
"How the bloody hell would I know? For all I know, you might have gotten Kissed still," Harry said, though he was really hoping the man had a good life in the other reality, because he certainly didn't have one in this one. One of them might as well have gotten off for the better.
"Yeah, probably," said Sirius. "That would be the way my life would have gone." He hung his head in this painting, and if he could have cried, he probably would have. But paintings didn't have tears.
"Cheer up, Sirius. I'm sure some things would have gone right in your life," said Remus, trying to be supportive.
"How the hell would you know that? You don't seem to be in anybody's life. You seem to be a ruddy coward," said Harry, still very angry at the werewolf for not being in his life. He didn't seem to have been there for Sirius either. He seemed to have just abandoned the man when he been put in prison. That was the story he put together anyway. Everyone just thought that Sirius was guilty and left him to rot. Ron told him that Sirius was innocent when he was trying to tell him how different he was from his Harry.
"You don't know much about me, Harry," said Remus, glaring at the teenager as if daring him to make such accusations again. "How can you say that about me?" He could feel the wolf rising up within him, but it coward a bit as well.
"I saw the way you were acting in the meeting. You seemed to kowtow to Dumbledore and everything he says. For a werewolf, you seem to be the runt of the pack," the teenager said, not backing down one iota from the man's glare. It was like looking at a puppy trying to take on its father.
"That's not a very nice thing to say, Harry," the werewolf stated, completely affronted. He even had an indignant look on his face. The wolf in him completely backed down. This was an alpha male in front of him, and he was not.
"Whatever. Why don't you two tell me some stories about my father? I know so little about him," Harry said, completely changing the subject. He was tired of trying to argue with the unarmed man.
With that, the two Marauders told some stories about James Potter to Harry Potter. They spent a couple hours telling him about the jokes and pranks they got up to in Hogwarts. Harry was not impressed. It seemed like the Marauders were nothing but a bunch of bullies. But he played it off as having a good time. Then he asked Remus to leave so he could spend some time with his godfather.
"So, Sirius, did you leave me anything in your will?" he asked, trying not to sound greedy, but wanting to get it out there in the open.
"Yeah, I left you everything except for the few things I left for Remus. It's not like I had anything to do with my family. I didn't have a girlfriend before I went to prison," Sirius said with all seriousness.
"Huh. That's funny, I didn't get anything. And it seems that the Order of the Phoenix has commandeered this house," said Harry, rubbing the bottom of his chin, as if thinking really hard about what was going on in this house.
"Yes, I've noticed that," said Sirius with a growl in his voice. "I'm very upset about it. I can hear my mum shouting up the stairs every time somebody comes into the house. I have to listen to my relatives complain about mudbloods and half-bloods. I must sit here in this house day in and day out, listening to my relatives complain about all these people coming into the house all the time. I don't know how I got into this house. I had the painting done when I got out of prison on the off chance that it would be needed to prove my innocence. But I don't know how I wound up being hung here. The painter must have brought me here after he was done with the picture. After I got Kissed. He probably had nowhere else to hang me."
"Did you have the painting done while you were in the house, while you were hiding out here?" asked Harry, thinking it was the only logical conclusion.
"No, I didn't come to the house while I was on the run. I hate the joint. But I did tell him that this was the place to have it delivered to," said Sirius, looking up and down the hall with disdain.
"Why did you do that?" asked Harry. "If you don't like the place?"
"Because it was the only address I know," said Sirius sheepishly.
"Oh, okay," said the teenager, shrugging his shoulders. That made sense to him. He only knew one address too and that was the Dursleys. If he needed to have something delivered, he'd probably have it go there. "Anyway, back to whether you left me the house or not. Why did they say you left it to Remus? Did you leave it to Remus, or did you leave it to me?" He really wanted to get this settled as to whether the house was his.
"I didn't technically leave it to anybody because it still belonged to my mother, who was still alive when I went to prison. It must have fallen to me after she died. Therefore, it wasn't left to anybody. So, they had to have used some shady maneuvering to get it left to Remus. But if I had any say in it, it would have been left to you," assured his godfather.
"Is there any way that I can get it back into my name?" asked Harry, leaning forward a little bit as if to catch the answer quicker. He really did not want to live on the streets anymore if he didn't have to. That and, he could invite people over to his house and get more people off the streets. This could be a central place of hanging out.
"Well, there are some pretty cutthroat solicitors out there that would be able to get it for you," his godfather said with a malicious look in his eyes that bordered on sadistic. Black family madness was not far from him. The years in prison did him no good. Harry could tell by the way the painter captured the demented look in his eye. Even though he cleaned up for the painting, Sirius was gaunt and crazy looking.
"Do you have the name of any?" the young man asked eagerly. He didn't know the name of any solicitors. Especially those in the wizarding world. He might have known some people who knew some people who knew some people in the muggle world, but none in the wizarding world.
"Well, there's Waters & Conks. They were the solicitors of my father. They're about as cutthroat as they come. If they can't get this house back for you, nobody can," the dogman said, rubbing his hand on his chin in a knowing fashion as if remembering just how devious these men were.
"Where can I find them?" Harry asked, looking around to see if there was any pen and paper where he could jot down an address. There wasn't any, so he was just going to have to remember it in his head.
"Their practice is in Knockturn Alley. Go three buildings in, turn right and they're on the third floor of the second building. You can't miss it. They have a sign out," Sirius said, looking at his godson to see if he was getting all of that down. The boy seemed to be remembering it. He didn't seem as if he was a stupid child and the street seemed to have given him some smarts.
"I'll have to go down there later today," Harry said. Those are simple enough instructions that he wouldn't have a hard time following them. He knew where Knockturn Alley was. He'd been down there a time or two.
"Just be careful going down there. There's a lot of bad people down there," warned the painting, as if Harry didn't know better.
"Did you miss that part where I said I grew up on the streets? Because I've been around a lot of bad people," Harry said sarcastically, giving the painting a look of loathing.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that," his godfather said, rubbing a hand down his face.
"Don't worry about it. A lot of people do," Harry said, waving it away as if he hadn't just given him a scorching look. "Is there any way to shrink this portrait and take it with me? You've got to be bored hanging around a bunch of people you don't even like." He looked around the frame to see if there was anything like a shrinking rune. He didn't see anything. He was going to have to shrink it the old-fashioned way. With a spell, but he didn't want to damage the picture doing it, which is why he asked.
"Sure there is. Don't you know the shrinking charm? You've been in school for, what, four years now?" Sirius asked, confused.
"I haven't been in school for more than a few weeks, but I do know how to shrink things a different way. I just wasn't sure if it would have any effect on the picture," Harry explained. He had to remember that this guy was affected by Azkaban more than he had let on. It seemed to affect his memory a lot. Which was a sad thing. Still, he was a fun guy to talk to.
"Won't hurt to try. It's not like I'm going to feel it," Sirius said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
"OK, well, hold still." With that Harry shrunk the picture and then looked at the tiny Sirius and said, "Did you feel anything?"
A squeaky voice answered him, "No."
So Harry put the picture in his pocket and casually strolled out of Grimmauld Place.
Hphphp
After meeting up with Waters of Waters and Conks and letting him know what was going on to get Grimmauld Place back, Harry went back to Hogwarts and met up with Hermione. He assumed if anybody could figure out where the elves hung out, she would. She let him know that they were in the kitchens, and then let him know where they were. He was finally able to determine where they were, and he visited them.
"I need to speak to the leader," he said when he finally figured out how to open the door. It wasn't easy to guess that you had to tickle a pear. Who tickled pears? Who went around tickling fruit? He had to run his fingers over the entire picture to figure that out. He should have just brought out the picture of his godfather. Sirius knew.
"I is being Topper," said the head elf, coming up to Harry and standing in front of him, giving him a small bow.
"Can you tell me of a room I can use where I can do a ritual that the headmaster won't be able to feel?" asked the teenage boy, hoping the head elf wouldn't tell the headmaster what he was looking for.
"Topper could be taking you to a secret place," said the elf. With that, Topper took him to the Room of Requirements. Which was on the 7th floor, across from the painting of a man teaching trolls how to dance. "You must walk across the wall three times and picture the room you want," said the elf.
"That's all I have to do?" asked Harry, shocked at how simple it was. Usually these type of things you had to do many other complicated things to get into the secret room. There was one room on the third floor where you had to wait for the second day of the month to pass the full moon and nobody could pass the hallway for the third time in a row. It was quite complicated.
"That is being it," said Topper, nodding his head energetically.
"Thanks a lot, little guy," said Harry.
"It is being my pleasure, Harry Potter, sir," said the elf, bouncing up and down in a hyper way. "I is not being telling the headmaster what you is being doing." And with that, the elf popped away.
Harry was just thankful that the head elf was going to keep his secret. He wondered why that was, and then he realized it was probably because of the whole Boy Who Lived thing. And for once he was grateful for the title. Maybe he should use it more often if people were going to give him things like secret keeping and such like that. Then his greedy little mind went to there were things he could use it for in the Alleys, like discounts on merchandise. Ah, he'd think about it later. Right now, he had a ritual to perform.
So, he did the required pacing and got his ritual room. He looked inside to a blank room with nothing but a circle inside. It wasn't anything elaborate. It wasn't anything fancy. It was just a simple room.
There were candles in each corner depicting the four elements. One candle was green. One candle was blue. One candle was red. One candle was white.
He decided to do this sky clad, so he shucked his clothes before he entered the room. He went to each candle and lit them with magic, going withershins.
He then entered the circle, careful not to break it, sat in the center, meditated, cleared his mind and then did a simple elimination spell. It was with great intention that he removed the horcrux from his scar. He banished it to the nether regions. Never to be seen again. The scream that accompanied the elimination of the horcrux was something he will remember to his dying day.
He was just glad it was finally over, and he finally got something done that he'd been meaning to do since he got to this Godforsaken castle. That was one thing off his list. Now he had to go see Skip again and get some more bullets.
He had made good with Remus, even if he didn't like the guy. He'd play along for now.
He had Sirius in his pocket and was going to get to know him. Even if he was only a facsimile of the man. He was the closest thing to family Harry had, and the teenager was going to hold on to him forever.
Speaking of pockets, he needed to get dressed. So, he went out the door and put his clothes back on, walked in front of the wall again and just brought up a room where he could sit and talk with his godfather some more. They spent a few pleasant hours talking more about his parents, and how to get his house back.
Sirius was very upset with Remus, The Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore in particular. Especially when he found out that he had been Kissed without even his side of the story being heard.
Harry was particularly upset with all the above for the same reasons. Not to mention his own grievances. Still, they spent some quality time together and shared complaints and planned on what to do to get back at the men and women who made their lives hell. It was a fun few hours.
Hphphp
Meanwhile, on the other side of London. Tom was talking to Crabbe Senior. They were sitting in the meeting room, just the two of them. The rest of the Death Eaters were off doing what Tom had told them to do about finding ways to make equal rights happen in the society that he had built. So far, they've come up with many great ideas and banished many of the unfair laws that he created under his reign. Sure, it was confusing people, but this was not a democracy. He was in charge, even if it was mostly from the shadows.
People knew that he was fighting a war with Dumbledore, they just didn't know that he was in control of most of the Wizengamot. The Dark faction at any rate. The whole of that group bowed at his feet and they threatened, bribed and coerced the Grey faction into doing with they wanted. It was only the Light faction that was the problem.
"How did the meeting go?" he asked his loyal servant. He was hoping for some juicy gossip, being the teenage boy that he was, but he was trying to pull off the stoic Dark Lord that he was supposed to be.
"It went as well as to be expected, Milord," said Crabbe, from his place on the ground. He would never sit at the same height as his master. "Dumbledore was hubris as usual. And young Harry was defiant as you thought he would be." He had enjoyed watching the two of them play at each other during the meeting, and he relished watching Harry come out at the top. Seeing Dumbledore taken down a peg or two was always a delight.
"Did you learn anything new?" asked the Dark Lord.
"I learned that there is a prophecy, Milord," the overweight Death Eater said, looking up at the man, hoping that he wasn't about to be cursed. He hated to be the bearer of bad news. Especially to the Dark Lord.
"What does this prophecy say?" Tom asked, glaring down at the Death Eater in front of him.
"It says that Harry Potter is the one that will defeat the Dark Lord. That he will be born as the seventh month dies to parents that thrice defied him," Crabbe stated, still cringing.
"Does it say which Dark Lord?" Voldy Junior asked casually.
"It did not, Milord."
"Ah. Well, we will take it to mean that it will be the senior Dark Lord. I am sure that it didn't even say there will be two, making the prophecy defunct. What else did you learn?" Tom said, waving the prophecy away as if it were meaningless.
"Severus Snape says he is a spy for the headmaster," Crabbe said with the sadistic glare. No one in the Death Eaters trusted that man. He is a slimy snake and a greasy git. He acts as if he is above everyone, more so now that Malfoy is dead.
"It was his job to say that. He is my spy. He is a loyal servant through and through. I questioned him thoroughly when I came back. He bears my mark, and until such a time that he betrays me I will consider him my spy. What else did you learn?" the baby Dark Lord said, pacing up and down in front of the Death Eater, who was quivering in front of him for fear he was about to be cursed.
"The mudblood wants a blanket pardon for all enemies killed."
"Does she really?" Tom said, grinning like a fool for fleeting seconds. That was something he could use to his advantage. He just had to make sure he knew the wording of that blanket pardon.
"Yes, Milord,"
"What else?"
"There is nothing else to learn. However, Harry Potter told the Order of the Phoenix of the Horcruxes, and then he went off to speak with Remus Lupin," Crabbe stated, looking at the floor to show he had nothing else to report.
"Do you know what they spoke about?" the teenager asked, not really caring.
"I believe they were to talk about the boy's father, Milord."
"Oh well, it cannot be helped," Tom stated, waving it away. The werewolf was a wuss who would spy for the headmaster. If the other teenager was smart, he'd string the man along and then kill him.
"Yes, Milord."
"Very well. Be off with you then," Voldy Junior said, dismissing the man.
With that Crabbe went away and left Tom to his ponderings. The Dark Lord thought about the ramifications of the prophecy, and then decided that they were pretty much useless in the realm of things. He didn't put much confidence in them, especially knowing who the Divinations teacher was at Hogwarts these days.
He had heard so much about her and realized that she was nothing but a drunk. And that Dumbledore had hired her because she had been the one to give the prophecy. He knew that that was one of the reasons why his senior self had gone after Harry Potter in the first place. His senior self was a fool. He really must have done damage to himself making all those Horcruxes. That would make going after him so much easier.
With that, he started making plans.