Returning to Privet Drive for the first time in three years sent a tremor down Harry's spine. Just the sight of the accursed street, unchanged from his childhood years, brought back memories he hadn't thought of in years. The neat rows of identical houses, the manicured lawns, and the cold, unwelcoming atmosphere remained as though frozen in time.
He only got a brief respite from the flood of memories as Fawkes gave a mournful cry before flaming away.
"You doing alright?" Tonks asked in concern, bumping him with her shoulder.
"Yeah, I guess. It's strange, really. What I had to deal with here was insignificant compared to what I've encountered in the magical world… But this place, it had this way of making me feel so powerless."
He drew some comfort when Tonks silently placed her hand upon his shoulder.
"But no, I am fine. It's probably for the best that I came back here… I didn't even know I still felt so strongly about this place. Come on, let's just get anything I might've left, and then I can put all of this behind me." Harry continued, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
Ringing the doorbell, Harry did his best to control his heartbeat, a task which became increasingly difficult as he heard someone coming to the door. However as the door creaked open, Harry was met with the sight of a young man who was completely unknown to him.
"Hello? Can I help you?"
"Oh, sorry, I'm looking for the Dursleys? Do they still live here?" Harry asked awkwardly, fearing they'd moved away since he'd run away.
"We still live here. I'm Dudley Dursley," came the soft, almost melodic reply.
If it were indeed Dudley standing before him, he'd shed the remnants of his childhood- his features having grown more refined, and his frame considerably leaner. His eyes, which Harry had only known to bear malice, now held a friendly kind of weariness.
But now he knew what to look for, Harry could identify his cousin, although his changes were profound, with the passage of time having sculpted him into a person visually distinct from the boy Harry remembered from years ago.
Harry hesitated for a moment, preparing for Dudley's reaction to his next words. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter. I, uh, assume you remember me?"
To his surprise, Dudley actually smiled at his words. "God, I didn't expect to ever see you again, Harry." He said, a mix of surprise and genuine warmth in his voice.
"Yeah, neither did I, but some matters arose. Honestly, I didn't expect… this." Harry replied, loosely indicating Dudley's body. "You've...changed."
Dudley offered a small, almost self-conscious smile. "Yeah, well, life happens, doesn't it? What matters brought you back here after all this time?"
"I needed to tie up some loose ends, I suppose," Harry replied vaguely, not ready to disclose the intricacies of his return. "Mind if I come in for a bit?"
Dudley hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Sure, why not? It's just me here, so you won't need to worry about more reunions."
Tonks gave Harry's shoulder another reassuring squeeze, silently communicating her support, as they followed Dudley inside.
Whilst the street outside hadn't changed, the Dursley's house had. It seemed more run down than it had in Harry's time, and less cared for. Harry wouldn't go so far as to call it a dirty home, but it was far from the spotless cleanliness Petunia had always commanded of him.
"So, what's happened since I left?" Harry prompted, as Dudley led them into the kitchen.
"A lot," Dudley chuckled, "Do you want some tea? It's a somewhat long story."
Seeing Dudley sink into an armchair, hammered home the changes his cousin had gone through. Harry vividly remembered a time Dudley could almost fill that exact chair, yet now he left plenty of room to spare, even when he leaned forward to recount his story.
"So, I guess it all starts when you ran away. At first, mum and dad were furious, mainly at how the Mason's reported the event to the police. But when you never came back home, I think mum began to grow worried.
"When school began and nobody from your world showed up, she realised you were probably fine… Just back in your own world, I guess. Then when I returned home for Christmas break, mum said dad had been arrested. It seemed the police had finished their investigation, and found him guilty."
Harry sat there, absorbing Dudley's words, dreading an inevitable explanation of how Vernon had wormed his way free of any charges.
"He got sentenced to twenty years," Dudley continued, his expression sombre. "The charges were serious, especially when they couldn't find any further trace of you, and that weighed heavily against him. The court didn't take kindly to it, especially when he couldn't control his temper during his court appearances. It's been tough adjusting without him around, but I suppose it's what he deserved.
"But he took the credit for mum's actions, so she only got sentenced to mandatory therapy, which was for the best. I ended up going to a few sessions of my own too, which helped me gain clarity for my own actions.
"As time passed, I realised there was more to life than the way we were raised. It took some soul-searching and facing the truth about our family, but it was worth it."
Dudley took a deep breath, as if releasing the lingering echoes of his past. Harry sat in silence, absorbing the weight of Dudley's words, waiting for the continuation of his cousin's story.
"Of course, when dad's money ran out, mum needed to find work for herself, and I had to go to Stonewall High. It's funny, I ended up wearing the same uniform mum made for you, which certainly made me stand out. Funnily enough, that was probably the best thing for me.
"My form tutor, Mr. Bennett was also my PE and English teacher, and took a personal interest in me. He taught me boxing, as a way to let out my emotions and energy, but also about living healthy. From there, he also helped me improve in other subjects, he showed me I did actually have a brain somewhere under all my fat."
Harry felt a mix of emotions, finding himself strangely proud of his cousin, yet also unable to let go of his impression of the younger Dudley.
"So, how's your life been, Harry?" Dudley asked, steering the conversation away from the heavy topic. "Better, I hope?"
"Not exactly. I can't quite say I've been through what you have, but I'd rather be where you are now." Harry answered, doing his best to keep his words light. "I've had a friend die, been tortured, lost my hand, and faced death more times than I can count."
"Jesus… That's… Yeah I'd rather be where I'm sitting too. Are you doing alright?"
"I can't afford to not be alright. The man who killed my parents, he came back to life last month, he's the one who sliced my arm in half. That's why I'm here. If there's anything of mine I left behind, this man might be able to use it against me."
"He'd have to find us here though first, surely? Are… are me and mum safe here?"
"No, you aren't." Tonks cut in, speaking for the first time. "This man, he will have means to find Harry's old residence, which will lead him straight here. I'd recommend moving, as soon as you can. This house used to be protected, but those fell some time ago."
"I don't think we can afford to move." Dudley replied in alarm, looking around as if he'd see Voldemort staring at them through the window.
"Dudley… Do you promise me Aunt Petunia has changed for the better, and that your dad won't be welcomed home."
"I can promise you I won't welcome dad home. But yes, mum has changed considerably since you were last here. Some old man from your world came to speak with her after you'd left, and wasn't the same ever since. I don't actually see her all that much, she's always busy working. But I know she's better than she was."
Sighing, Harry stood and looked around the living room, before his eyes settled on an old vase sitting on the mantelpiece. It had been there for years, unnoticed and forgotten. All it took was a simple tap with his Gauntlet ring, and the vase transformed into gleaming gold, shedding dust in the process.
"There, that will help cover the cost of moving. I don't know how much it will sell for, but it's pure gold, so it must be worth something." Harry said, finding some joy in Dudley's stupefied look.
"Can all your people do that? Just turn anything you want into gold?"
"No, it's quite a unique skill. But technically what I just did was illegal, so don't tell anybody the truth. Now, do you mind if I look around for anything left behind?"
"Go for it, but I think dad had put everything of yours in a box under the stairs."
Moving over to his old cupboard, Harry found he didn't need to rout around for his belongings. All he'd had was within a single shoebox, which immediately stood out amongst the almost bare storage space.
"Mum couldn't bear to look in here… I can't either to be honest. She always said you'd cursed it, as a punishment for us." Dudley explained, standing in the living room doorway.
"I don't think I could curse things back then." Harry said lightly, even as he opened the shoebox. "Although accidental curses aren't unheard of."
As he'd feared, there were a few random mithril objects, made when he'd been inexperienced, which he easily drained into nothingness.
His old pewter mortar was also there, albeit shattered. Beyond that was a single first year textbook, some half finished homework, and a few quills. All of which were easily vanished by his Gauntlet.
Closing his cupboard for what he'd hoped was the last time, he carried on upstairs, entering his bedroom. It had been striped completely, even his old bed had gone.
Cracking open the broken floorboard, he found nothing bar some more homework, which was similarly vanished. And with it, any last trace that Harry Potter had once lived in this home. No leftover magic or mithril for Voldemort to find and abuse.
"That's all of it… I probably didn't need to return after all, but I am glad I did." Harry called, taking a moment to stare out his old window, looking at the overgrown garden through the frozen glass.
Pulling his coat closed to better counter the growing cold, Harry turned to face his cousin. "Take care, Dudley. I don't think I can ever forget my childhood here, but I think the man you've become is something you can be proud of."
"Thank you, that honestly means a lot. I must admit, I don't think I'll ever not be scared of magic, but I wouldn't be opposed to trying to learn more about your world… if you ever want to catch up again."
"Maybe, I wouldn't be opposed to that. I'll be able to find you, once you move. Hopefully once things calm down in my world, we'll get some time to properly catch up."
Before anything else could be said, they were interrupted by a Patronus shooting into the room and taking the form of a giant tortoise.
"Harry, I don't know if you are still at the Greengrass estate, but do not return. The cottage is under some kind of attack, and it isn't safe. Stay where you are if it's safe, otherwise Nymphadora is to take you to headquarters." The tortoise said, taking on Nicholas' hurried tone.
"Tonks?" Harry called.
"I heard, it's not safe here, not for us. Your cousin will need to take his chances, I'm afraid, the wards won't let him into headquarters." Tonks replied, charging down the stairs.
"Come on, we can't disapparate here. If there's an ambush outside headquarters, it will be child's-play for them to track our journey back here. You've got your broom right? We'll need to fly for a- Whoa!"
Jumping down the last few stairs, Harry was pulled up short as Tonks hastily stepped away from the Dementor floating in the doorway.
"Dementor of Azkaban, I am an Auror of the Ministry. You are not licensed to be here, in a Muggle neighbourhood. Withdraw immediately, or face the consequences." Tonks rattled off, hurriedly pulling her badge and presenting it to the Dementor.
While it didn't make any move to draw closer, neither did it obey Tonks' order.
"Do you want to read it it's rights next, or should we just cut straight into you using your Patronus to scare it away?" Harry snarked, eyeing the Dementor with distaste.
"What's the problem?" Dudley called, unwilling to take even another step downwards. "Why can't you leave?"
"There's a Dementor in your doorway, a monster from our world. You'd probably call it a frost demon. Only we can see it, but it will feast upon all our souls if it gets the chance. Do your best to avoid it, and avoid touching it." Harry replied, even as the blue light of Tonks' Jack Rabbit Patronus illuminated the hallway.
At its light, the Dementor gave a chilling hiss and took a clear step backwards, yet strangely didn't flee as they'd hoped. Especially when they heard the backdoor creak open, to reveal a second Dementor gliding inside.
"Harry, we might need to risk just leaving. I don't know how long I can hold two Dementors back." Tonks muttered.
"Just give me a second." Harry replied, stepping closer to the first Dementor. While both Tonks and Dudley were clearly reacting negatively to its presence, Harry couldn't even feel it was there.
"Why are you here? Are you here of your own free will, or did someone order you to attack this house?" Harry questioned, standing as close to the Dementor as he'd dared.
In return, the Dementor drew in a deep rattling breath, only to stop short when it realised Harry hadn't reacted. For his part, Harry wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but it seemed the Dementor properties he'd infused into his coat was easily negating his foe.
He could also feel a reaction within his Gauntlet, as it reacted to the Dementor in its own way. 'Don't transmute this one.' he commanded mentally, before he flexed his fingers and coated his hand in the Patronus flames.
There was a momentary spark of resistance from the Soul Gem, which was swiftly overridden once the Eidolon Core flared to life, conjuring a mesmerising firestorm that seized Harry by complete surprise.
In his third year, when he had called forth similar flames from a sword, they had emanated from every inch of the mithril. Now, the flames roared over the Gauntlet like they were liquid, cascading with an ethereal unnaturalness. And at its heart, the emerald stone stood as the eye of a swirling maelstrom, corralling the tempest of deep blue flames.
At the sight of the flames, the Dementor finally pulled back, giving off a loud animalistic screech. Thrusting his hand outwards, the Dementor instinctively flew out the doorway, opening a means of escape.
"Come on, quickly, out the door." Harry urged, but as he turned, he noticed his cousin frozen in shock upon the stairs. Tugging Dudley along, his heart almost stopped once they cleared the boundary and were met with five Dementors floating over Petunia's garden, each radiating a clear sense of anger.
With another Dementor drawing a rattling breath from behind them within the house, Harry grimaced, realising he might have triggered some trap.
He held his breath as he awaited the expected charge, but relaxed somewhat once he noticed the Dementors weren't making any serious move to get nearer. Instead, they moved side to side around them, creating an unsettling dance in the air.
"What's with their marks?" Tonks muttered, pointing at the dark blue lines visible across most of their foes.
Holding up his flame-coated hand, Harry broke into a cruel grin as he saw the Dementors' marks grow brighter upon exposure to his light.
"You are the ones that tried to attack me in my third year, aren't you?" He called, confident enough to take a firm step forward, "Let me guess, those burn marks have never stopped hurting you, so now you are here to settle the score."
"Harry, what on earth are you talking about?" Tonks asked, refusing to take her eyes off the beings.
"In my third year, when I met Sirius, we got attacked by the horde guarding Hogwarts. But I was able to make these flames, that could actually hurt them. These Dementors seem to have the same marks my fire leaves behind.
"And that must be why you won't get any closer, am I right?" He asked, raising his voice to address the closest Dementor, "Did you really think I wouldn't be able to make the fire a second time? Or perhaps you were told I was helpless? Come on, don't give me these blank looks."
To his surprise, the Dementors actually reacted to his words, giving each other what he'd almost call furtive looks. Then as one they drew deep breaths, instantly killing the weeds beneath them. The air itself seemed to shudder as the Dementors inhaled, a visible distortion extending outwards, sucking everything toward them.
The very essence of the surroundings was being pulled into their cold, soul-sucking breath. At first, he wasn't sure what they were trying to do, until he felt Tonks and Dudley seize up behind him. The light of Tonks' Patronus even faded alarmingly, allowing the Dementor behind them to move daringly closer.
"Stop that, it clearly doesn't work on me, and my friends are not your concern." Harry demanded, his fear giving way to raw anger, "I've stolen one of your cloaks, I've turned one of you into a stone I now wear upon my own hand. The demons from third year have no power over me now. Leave, now. Or else I will have to see how much I can hurt you for a second time."
He couldn't resist feeling disappointed when they didn't follow his threat, especially when they increased their suction. To his alarm, he could feel the air itself getting lighter. Whilst he was immune to their aura, it seemed they could still suffocate him to death.
Reaching out with his aerokinesis, he did his best to pull the air back, finally feeling some of the Dementors' power as he tried to tug against their ceaseless inhaling.
Deciding to put his new ability to the test, he recalled the length of mithril rope he'd stored within the Eidolon Core. He wasn't too surprised when the blue flames wrapped around his hand travelled down the coiled mithril, granting him a whip of Patronus fire.
Without waiting to see how they'd react, Harry flicked the whip and directed it around the closest Dementor's neck. Instantly it began to screech, shrivelled hands coming up to futilely grasp the rope.
As the first Dementor writhed in pain, its companions turned their attention toward Harry with what seemed like a mix of fury and fear. The swirling flames of the Patronus whip crackled ominously, casting an eerie light on the garden.
"Get back, both of you!" Harry shouted at Tonks and Dudley, who were struggling to breathe in the oppressive atmosphere. He felt the strain of holding the air against the Dementors' relentless pull, being the only thing allowing them all to remain conscious in the low air.
To his concern, the Dementor had managed to degrade the mithril enough that the whip unfurled around its neck, allowing it to pull itself free. As it recoiled, Harry noticed the scorch marks on its neck where the Patronus fire had touched. A wicked grin spread across his face.
"Now, who's next?" he challenged, cracking the whip in the air. Another flick of his wrist purged the damaged mithril and replaced it, leaving the decayed mithril to be consumed within the still burning Patronus flames.
Snapping the whip backwards delivered a biting impact upon the Dementor within the house, which he managed to continue into wrapping around the wrist of the next creature.
This time he let go of the whip, before he recalled a spear, which soon found itself burning within the rotten chest of the first Dementor.
He'd been expecting the backlash from injuring the Dementors to arrive at any moment, having remembered the cold spasms his heart had endured when he'd struck the Dementors with these flames in his third year. Yet to his relief, no pain came his way.
Pushing his luck, he recalled another coil of rope, which he used to pull a fourth Dementor closer, which he impaled with a sword with all his magically increased might. Feeling a touch of guidance from the mithrilium within his head, he then channelled a lightning bolt through the mithril sword.
Instead of merely screeching, this Dementor tipped its head back in a silent scream as blue tendrils of electricity lit up its skin from the inside, before it collapsed into a spectacular burst of dark azure particles. The remnants of the entity dissipated into the air, leaving behind only the lingering scent of ozone and the eerie echo of its former existence.
There was a moment of pure silence, before the remaining Dementors in a twisted harmony unleashed a combined screech so deafening it hit like a physical wave. The chilling wail reverberated through the air, a cacophony of misery and despair that seemed to echo from the darkest recesses of the world.
The sheer volume of their unified cry threatened to overwhelm Harry, forcing his eyes shut to try and protect himself from it. By the time the assault let up, and he could reopen his eyes, the Dementors had clearly reconsidered their situation and began to fly away. With his Gauntlet, he continuously summoned a whip to pull the Dementors back, while he used his free hand to control the air.
Without the Dementors draining the air, he could focus all his power on buffering their attempts to fly away. Tonks even tried to direct her Patronus to help, with minimal effect.
Briefly pausing his whip work to launch a spear at the furthest Dementor, he swiftly reformed his whip to slam yet another Dementor back to the ground, which received its own lightning charged sword into the back.
At its death, Harry let out a gleeful laugh, even as he charged over to the Dementor that was struggling with the spear in its chest. He needed to only grasp the spear to channel his lightning, which danced within the Dementor's incorporeal form. The creature convulsed in a silent scream, its essence unravelling into the same dark azure particles that marked the end of its kin.
Harry stood slowly, catching his breath and surveying the aftermath of the supernatural battle. The remaining Dementors had flown too far out of reach, but he didn't expect to see them again anytime soon.
Tonks, though visibly shaken, approached him with a mix of awe and concern. "Harry, what... what was that?"
A wry smile played on his lips as he glanced at the dissipating particles. "Seems they underestimated how much I've changed since our last encounter. Perhaps I have too. It means I'm back to my full strength. I've got my mithril, I've got my Gauntlet, and I've got my magic."
His glee was interrupted by the sound of wings, prompting an almost instinctual preactive reaction. Instead, a large, puffed-up owl disdainfully dropped a letter at his feet before swiftly departing.
Casting a contemptuous look at the Ministry logo, he summoned the letter to him, allowing the recorded voice to read its contents aloud.
"Dear Mr Potter,
We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at forty-seven minutes past twelve this afternoon in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle.
The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand.
As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the twelfth of August.
Hoping you are well,
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkirk
Improper Use of Magic Office Ministry of Magic"
Frustration turned into irritation as he let out a deep breath. Without conscious thought, the letter burst into flames before he could process what was running through his head.
"Well… That's some bullshit." Dudley announced, even if the effort to speak had him nearly throwing up.
"I- Yeah, it really is." Tonks agreed, "Would your Gauntlet even register as a wand, Harry?"
"No, it shouldn't. Maybe the new stone has changed it enough, but it shouldn't have made a difference. Either way, it says wand here, not foci. So unless they want to go get my wand from Voldemort, they'll have a tough time destroying it.
"There's a thought actually. If they show up at Dumbledore's house, they'll have to explain away the attack Nicholas mentioned. If they show up here, they'll need to explain the Dementor residue."
"They might… Or it might be an empty threat. I've certainly never heard of Ministry officials coming to someone's house to destroy their wand. You either get your wand confiscated after being sent to Azkaban, or the Headmaster snaps it after expelling you." Tonks pointed out, still glaring at where the letter had been.
"Either way, I'm not keeping you exposed out here. Get your broom, we'll fly out a ways, then I'll apparate us to Headquarters. You're lucky Moody isn't here, he hates apparition, so he makes the rest of us fly around everywhere. You, Dudley, I'd recommend going back home. Keep your head down, and the Obliviators might leave you alone."
Feeling sympathetic of the lost look Dudley now wore, Harry swiftly created a simple mithril chain that he metaphysically linked to another simple cube he slipped into his pockets.
"Here, wear this." He called, tossing the chain to Dudley, who to his credit nimbly caught it. "As soon as you can, work a drop of your blood into the metal. Anyone who doesn't share your blood won't be able to notice it, so if you get in any trouble, break the chain.
It will let me know where you are, and somebody will be able to help you. Mind, it may not be immediate support, but it's better than nothing."
Dudley examined the mithril chain in his hands, clearly unsure about the magical device. "How do I put my blood in it?"
"It will only need a single drop," Harry explained. "Prick your finger with a needle or something, let a drop fall onto the chain, and it should do the rest. The magic will then recognize your blood, and only you and your family can use it."
Dudley, still looking uncertain, pocketed the chain. "Alright, I'll... I'll do that. But what if someone from your world sees it?"
"Keep it under your shirt," Harry urged. "Wear it like a necklace. Most people from my world won't be able to see it… and if you run into those that can, there's very little we could do anyway."
Tonks patted Dudley on the shoulder, "You'll be fine. You've gone this far without being attacked. Move house and keep quiet about our world, and nobody will know to find you. But if anything happens, you are better off with that chain than without. Now, I need to get this one going before any Ministry officials decide to drop in."
Riding on his Firebolt for the first time beside Tonks, Harry found himself reconsidering his distaste of brooms. The air buffeting his face had been easily dealt with, which only left the exhilarating sensation of soaring through the air. His grip on the Firebolt was firm, and with each effortless manoeuvre, he felt a newfound sense of control.
As they ascended ever higher, Harry couldn't help but appreciate the view. The landscape unfolded beneath him, as the brown and grey mass of Surrey gave way to the patchwork of fields and forests, all merging into a breath-taking panorama.
Tonks flew alongside him, her now long sky-blue hair whipping in the wind. She cast a sidelong glance at Harry, noting the positive change in his demeanour. "Enjoying the ride, Harry?"
Harry grinned, the rush of wind and the thrill of flight combining to lift his spirits. "Yeah, it's not bad at all. Maybe I underestimated broomsticks."
"See? I knew you'd come around," Tonks teased, executing a skilful loop in the air. "Flying is one of the best things ever, although I will admit it gets a bit painful after a while, unless you have a proper seat made like Mad-Eye."
"Speaking of, how much further do you want us to fly?" Harry called, doing his best to follow Tonks through the looping.
"Not much further. I'm sure Moody's brewing up a storm about your little escapade, so the sooner I can hand you over, the less trouble I'll be in."
Harry found he wasn't too fond of Tonks' idea of 'further'. As they continued flying, Tonks led Harry through a series of aerial manoeuvres, showcasing the capabilities of his Firebolt. After several more exhilarating minutes, Tonks finally signalled for Harry to pull close.
"Ready for a change of scenery?" Tonks shouted, her eyes glinting mischievously.
Before Harry could respond, Tonks lunged across to grab him and performed a swift side-along Apparition, dropping them into a dried park. Harry stumbled slightly, adjusting to the sudden shift in surroundings.
Tonks grinned. "Welcome to the neighbourhood, Harry."
Confused, Harry looked around at the ordinary park. "Neighbourhood? Tonks, this is just a park. Please tell me Dumbledore's special headquarters isn't the crawl space under a slide."
"Ah, but it's a special park," Tonks explained, before her expression turned more serious. "No, Headquarters is a house, but you'll need to know the secret… Although now we're here, I'm not quite sure how we'll do that."
She was interrupted by a deep clang, as Harry's shield sprung out of nowhere to absorb a spinning dark green chain shot spell.
"Pulveris Turbo!" Harry intoned, pointing his hand at a nearby bench. There was a muffled swear, before a torrent of red dust exploded from Harry's hand to coat everything around it.
The bench itself was completely cloaked within the softly glowing red dust, as was a shrouded and invisible figure that was rolling up to meet them. To Tonks' shame, it took until another spell struck Harry's shield, this time a scarlet disarming jinx, before she gathered her wits.
Diving to the side herself, in an attempt to flank, she readied herself to duel their assailant. She was fairly sure the swear had been Moody's gruff voice, but she wasn't going to take any chances for as long as they were in the open.
Clearly understanding his invisibility had been compromised, their ambusher spared a moment to cast a windy spell upon himself, with almost no discernible effect.
It had also cost him valuable time, as Harry had grasped the remnants of the wind to whip the invisibility cloak upwards, before lightning sparked across his Gauntlet, before bounding towards the now revealed Moody.
Even with the cloak flapping around his face, Moody managed to slam his staff against the ground and redirect the lightning bolt into the ground.
"Right, Potter, that's enough!" Mad-Eye called, throwing the cloak off himself fully.
To his credit, Harry didn't try to continue their abrupt duel, but nevertheless refused to fully drop his guard.
"And how do I know you are genuine? I've been attacked by someone wearing your face before, exactly like this."
"Aye, you have. That's some fine constant vigilance, unlike yourself, Nymphadora! Unfortunately for us, my only evidence is my note to you from Dumbledore. It will bring you into the Fidelius secret. And of course the understanding that if I were an imposter, we could duel well into the night and you'd be no closer to defeating me."
From within his own dragonskin coat, Moody released a scrap of paper, which he floated over. Seeing no magic upon the paper, Harry plucked it up with his own magic, bringing it just close enough to decipher the words, written in Dumbledore's loopy handwriting.
'The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.'
The moment he'd comprehended the message, he felt his own magic embracing them, as an entire house popped into existence.
Moody pointed at the now visible house. "There you have it, Potter. We're here. The Order's safe house. I'm sure Dumbledore mentioned it's not the cosiest place, but it's secure. Now, after you remove this gunk from my cloak, let's get inside before more trouble finds us out here. It'll cheer Black up if nothing else. Onwards, Potter!"
As soon as Harry drew close to the black front door, Harry could feel the almost vindictive magic guarding the house, protections he doubted Dumbledore approved of. Nevertheless, it only took a single tap of his wand for Moody to unlock the door.
The moment the door creaked open, a wave of ancient enchantments and decay brushed against Harry's senses. Where the Greengrass wards had welcomed him, these wards clearly didn't value his presence.
Even without the wards, the revealed hallway lay in shadow, derelict and ominous. He could feel faint traces of expansion charms lingered, their effects unravelling over time. He was hesitant to even step foot inside, wary of the charms might finally give up and crush him between the walls.
The hall's cramped width furthered his unease, barely allowing two people to pass. All whilst the ceiling soared to impossible heights, shrouded in darkness where anything might hide.
Despite that, he could almost see similarities between the Greengrass Hall and the one he found himself within. His magesight could just barely make out the imprint of a family crest beneath a moth-eaten rug, the worn fabric unable to fully hide the lingering family magic.
Even when the enchanted gas lamps spluttered to life, it did little to improve the ambience, rather illuminating the filth.
"Right, on you go son." Moody prompted, giving a firm shove to Harry's back, "Don't worry, we've fully vetted this part of the house, there's nothing left to be concerned about."
Keeping a firm hold on his shield, he shuffled forwards, wincing as his bad ankle made itself known again. He was completely unprepared for Ron's mother to step into the hall, who let out a breath of relief.
"Oh Harry, it's lovely to see you again." She whispered, smiling warmly as she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We were all so worried when we'd heard you'd gone missing. Come through, but keep your voice down. We don't want the portraits to wake up."
Before Harry could wonder exactly why the portraits might be an issue, Tonks managed to trip over a troll leg umbrella stand.
"Tonks!" Mrs Weasley cried in exasperation, turning to stare accusingly. "Every time. Just step around it!"
"I'm sorry!" Tonks whined, pushing herself to her feet.
But the rest of her apology was drowned out as large velvet curtains flew apart and unleashed a blood-curdling scream. Instantly Harry understood Mrs Weasley's desire to let the portraits sleep, as the mad old hag in the oversized painting did her best to bring the house down.
At her cue, numerous other portraits awoke and began to yell throughout the house too. Some were demanding the woman shut up, while others were in clear support of her.
"Filth! Scum! Infesting these sacred halls! Blood-traitors and their filthy pets! Disgracing the noble Black name with your presence!"
Mrs Weasley did her best to pull the curtains shut, whilst Tonks kept apologising over and over again, and Moody wore an expression of exasperation.
Just as Harry considered intervening, Sirius burst in with Lupin's, and together seized the portrait curtains.
"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut up!" Sirius shouted back at the screaming portrait, exchanging several unpleasantries until the curtains finally snapped shut, bringing the hallway back into a tense silence.
"Hello, Harry." Sirius greeted grimly, panting slightly and sweeping his hair out of his eyes, "I see you've met my mother."
"Your mother? Why would your mother's portrait be here?"
"Because this used to be her house. This is the hall of 'The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black'. But it's mine now, and I offered it to Dumbledore as a headquarters, about the only useful thing I've been able to do.
"Anyway, if you want a shot at getting rid of my dear old mum, have at it, you'd be doing you'll be doing us all a favour. But for now, the rest of the Order wants to interrogate you."
"Interrogate me about what?"
"Where you've been mostly. Dumbledore told them it was your story to tell, and personally I don't see why it's their business."
True to his word, Harry found himself seated amongst many new faces, as Mrs Weasley put together a plate of lunch for him.
"Right Potter, out with it. Dumbledore said keeping you safe is our best shot of winning this war, so tell me, how are we meant to do that if you'll just wander off?" Moody asked, slumping down into a seat directly across from him.
"This is the first I've heard of you lot protecting me." Harry shrugged, before taking a bite of his meal. He let a moment of appreciation cross his face, accompanied by a fleeting glance of gratitude toward the bustling woman at the stove, before setting his face into a more serious mask.
"I've only ever had Tonks looking out for me in the past, and she knew I was safe, and then was with me when the Dementors attacked. An attack I was perfectly capable of defending against, mind. Would you all have joined me in visiting the Dursleys?"
"If necessary." Moody growled, trying to pin Harry with a piercing gaze, before his false eye began lazily rolling to the side. "Gods fucking damn it all to hell!" He suddenly roared, the intensity of his gaze faltering. With a sharp squelching sound, he plucked his magical eye from its socket.
"Molly, be a dear and pass me that glass of water, please." Moody requested.
Mrs. Weasley hurriedly fetched a glass, and Moody dropped his eye into the water, where it whizzed around until it fixed its gaze back on Harry.
"Moody, what's the matter with your eye?" Harry asked cautiously, trying very hard to avoid looking at the hole the false eye normally covered.
"It hasn't been working right ever since that scum wore it, clearly never bothered to care for it properly. Got this during the good ol' days," Moody grumbled, taking a sip of the water. "One of a kind, this is. Dumbledore got it from Grindelwald's old fortress, so it's not like we can ask the creator for help.
"Now, don't change the subject! Where were you before the Dementor's attacked? We can't very well defend you if we can't find you," Moody repeated, trying very hard to appear intimidating.
"I'm not at liberty to say, but rest assured I was well defended. Any attacker would have to get through some very old wards to reach me first, and then they'd have to defeat me. I'd only be at threat if Voldemort himself showed up, in which case I really doubt anyone here would've been much help."
"Grown into quite the cocky little bastard haven't ya? Didn't take much to defeat you when Barty attacked you a few weeks ago, did it."
"I was far weaker then. Besides which, you didn't do well against him either. How many actual fighters are there in this Order? Because how many of you here could actually beat Moody in a fight?"
"That is beside the point." Moody snapped, "We could've gotten you to safety, bought you time. And you can make our lives easier by staying sheltered here. You wouldn't have gotten noticed by the Ministry if we'd been with you."
"Actually Mad-Eye, I think the Ministry detected my magic." Tonks broke in, "Harry still doesn't have a wand, so there shouldn't have been anything for the Ministry to detect. Once I explain I was the one doing magic, he should be fine."
"Good grief, girl, what are you still doing here then! Kingsley, go with her, get her report handed in immediately. Alright then Potter, what do you want me to say? That we'd have been completely useless alongside you, because I refuse to believe that."
"We shall just have to agree to disagree then." Harry said wryly, "I don't need you all to be protecting me, you have far more important things to deal with. I have things I need to get done this Summer, which I don't need supervision for."
After he'd talked Moody into an impasse and his late lunch had been tidied away, Mrs Weasley busied herself by the sink, distractedly addressing Harry over her shoulder. "Right Harry dear, I thought you could help the others clean this place up while we have our meeting."
"Actually Molly, I was going to give Harry a tour of this old place. Maybe show him the family tapestry." Sirius countered, stepping up behind Harry's chair and placing a hand upon his shoulder.
"But the meeting Sirius, it's just about to start!"
"Eh, I'm sure someone can give me the cliff notes. It's not like I've got anything to report, and hearing Snivellus go on about his lack of information grates on my nerves after a while. No, I'd much rather spend time with my godson."
"Now really!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed, throwing down her dish cloth in exasperation.
"Molly dear, Sirius does have a point, it isn't mandatory to attend every meeting. At least this way Harry gets to spend time with Sirius, and stay out of trouble." Mr Weasley pointed out, giving his wife a pointed look.
"As if they won't just use this to spy on the meeting anyway. That man is as bad as the twins at times."
"Then at least he'd have someone in the loop to help explain things, rather than from less reputable sources. You have to remember dear, this is Sirius' second time in the Order, he understands the importance of what we do as well as any."
"And Mrs Weasley, if I cared about what happened in these meetings, I'd ask Dumbledore directly. I can't afford to waste time worrying and trying to figure out what Voldemort's doing, because whatever it is I'll be unable to stop him. I need to train myself now, so that when I inevitably meet him again, I'll be better off."
"For goodness sake, you're 15! You shouldn't be worrying about things like this at all." Mrs Weasley exclaimed, "You should be letting us adults handle matters."
Rather than immediately reply, Harry instead tugged his coat out the way, before removing his mithril arm with a faint pop, before tossing it onto the table. It came to a grating stop before Mrs Weasley's wide eyes, before everyone's eyes snapped to the revealed stump of his arm.
"Voldemort didn't care that I was 14 when he took my arm. He didn't care that I was 11 when he killed my best friend. He didn't care that I was a baby when he took my parents. I really doubt he'll stop to reconsider his actions now that I am 15."
Seeing she had no response, and feeling guilty at the faint tears building in her eyes, he softened his tone. "Mrs. Weasley, I appreciate your concern. I really do. And in an ideal world, I'd love to have a normal, stress-free life. But this world isn't exactly ideal. Simply ignoring the threat won't make it go away."
Mrs. Weasley sighed, before nodding reluctantly, clearly torn. "I just want everyone to be safe. I don't want you to face more pain and danger than you already have."
Leaving his mithril arm behind, Harry quietly rose and left the room, with a more sedate Sirius following him.
"Come on, I was planning on letting you eavesdrop," Sirius admitted guiltily, "But I think after that we'd be better elsewhere. If nothing else, the drawing room is quiet."
Once again, Harry was incredibly unnerved by the feeling of the fragile expansion charms, especially as the staircase tilted slightly due to an uneven covering of the charm. But Sirius didn't seem to notice the danger, leaving Harry to follow the man through the house.
"So, Harry, I'm sure you've heard about how all the Pureblood families are somehow related? Well, this family tree is that somehow," Sirius announced sardonically, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Any British pureblood family going back at least five generations can be found on this tree."
"How? Surely the pureblood families aren't in such short supply?" Harry asked doubtfully, eyeing the ancient tapestry. Like the rest of Grimmauld Place, it was heavily decayed, although it was in far better condition than some parts of the house.
"True purebloods are actually hard to find, especially those without any Muggle blood. Besides which, my family had always been fervently determined to keep our blood 'pure'. We also had a problem of far more daughters than sons, which helped widen this tree along plenty.
"Like, look here; Of my generation, obviously me and my brother Reg were male, but all three of my cousins were daughters of House Black. It was considered good for gaining political advantage, but once Reg got killed and I got sent to Azkaban, there was nobody left to carry on the Black line. In theory you should also be here to help balance this generation, but my darling mother blasted your father off the tree once he'd married Lily."
"Wait, really? Why would I be on your family's tree?" Harry asked, suddenly finding the tapestry far more interesting.
"I said any pureblood family, didn't I? Here he is, 'James Charlus Potter', you can just about see his name under the blast mark. Technically, he was my mother's cousin. And over here, my grandfather's cousin Cadrella was burnt off too, because she married one Septimus Weasley, who'd go on to be the grandmother of your mate Ron.
And all the way up here to my Great, Great, Great-Grandfather, his youngest daughter Elladora married Lord Andreas Greengrass. And if we follow his line all the way down to their Great-Granddaughter, you'll find your girlfriend Daphne Greengrass." Sirius finished with a grin, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"I… I did not realise me and Daphne were related." Harry stumbled, unnerved by the clear presence of Daphne's name magically inscribed upon the wall.
"Ah relax, you're something like third cousins, once removed. Basically no shared blood between you. Not like my parents, they'd already known each other from family banquets. That said, you'd struggle to find many pureblood girls you aren't at least somewhat related to."
"What about my friend Luna? Luna Lovegood."
"Lovegood… Lovegood, ah ha! Here we are, Phineas Nigellus Black, his youngest sister, married one Cassius Lovegood. Ohh, and their daughter became an Ollivander- I did not know that. Unfortunately the Lovegood's weren't important enough to keep track of beyond the second generation, so your friend probably won't be directly named on this tapestry."
"Alright then, Nymphadora Tonks."
Waggling his finger, Sirius smirked over at Harry. "I think you will find the Tonks family is a muggleborn name less than five magical generations old. Nevertheless, she should be right here, under Andromeda Black, my cousin. She married muggleborn Ted Tonks, which got her blasted off the tree."
"Dumbledore?"
"I found him the other day actually. Once again going back to my Great, Great, Great-Grandfather Phineas Nigellus, this time it's his older sister who got married, to one Wulfric Arionel Dumbledore. Their sole child was Percival Dumbledore, who's the father of our Albus Dumbledore.
"Let me tell you, the last thing I'd expected to see on the Black family tree was a Dumbledore, but here we are. They didn't even get blasted off the tree, which I expect was my grandfather's influence. Apparently he and your grandfather fought alongside Dumbledore in the Grindelwald war.
"Which means my mother was full of shite with her 'This family has a proud history of serving Dark Lords, how dare you disowner us.' schtick." He mocked, having taken on a shrill voice, "Honestly, it's fascinating learning about my family history without my mother's bias."
"Oh? I must admit, I didn't expect to see so many familiar names here." Harry answered, not quite sure how to respond to his godfather.
"Yup, as you can probably tell from her portrait, my mother was very opinionated. One of the best moments in my life was when I finally ran away from this place, leaving this family behind. But I met this fantastic Veela while I was healing after Azkaban, she was beautiful, breasts the size of- Ahem, anyway she helped me see everything in a better light.
"Told me something about making my family history my own, to reclaim what was good, and to discard the weight of that which was bad. She said I was letting the past dictate the present, which I admit resonated with me at the time. Honestly, I wish I could've taken her with me when I had to leave."
"Why couldn't you stay there? It sounds like you were close, and if she really was helping…?"
"Ah, well you see my godson had his name drawn for a murder Tournament. So I put her words to use, my past is in the past, and my godson needed me in the present."
Beaming appreciatively, Harry let Sirius recompose himself for a moment. "Thank you. I can't remember if I ever said it, but it really did mean the world that you came all the way back here to help me, even if I was worried sick you'd get caught."
"I'm your godfather, taking risks for you is my job description." Sirius replied proudly, before slumping down slightly as he eyed his own burned name upon the tree.
"Sometimes," Sirius continued, a solemn note entering his voice, "we can't escape our past entirely. But we can choose how it defines us. My dear old mum and her prejudices are part of my history, but they don't dictate my present or future.
"It's why I've spent so many hours up here, trying to learn my family history, from my point of view. For every bad egg like Bellatrix, I find someone like your grandfather, or my uncle Alphard. I always thought my family were rotten to the core, that I alone was the rogue sheep, but I've found I'm actually average in my wider family.
"Like look over here, my Great-Grandmother, Hesper Black née Gamp? Her father's research for the Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration was funded entirely by my family. An entire newly defined branch of Transfiguration, all because my Great-Grandfather had a passing interest in his wife's Transfiguration." Sirius said with a glint of pride in his eyes.
"It's stuff like that I keep unearthing. Here, Reginald Scrimgeour! Married the then Lord Black's sister, and then led the British forces against the 1880s goblin rebellion. Imagine, all of my family's political weight and resources, behind one of the strongest fighters of the age, and let me tell you, he made quite a name for himself.
"Then once the war was over, he became a trailblazer in advocating for the fair treatment of magical creatures. Reginald helped rebuild the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, laying the groundwork for improved relationships between wizards and magical beings."
"Didn't stop there either. Reginald worked tirelessly to ensure that Goblins, and other magical creatures, had more rights and protections. He brokered agreements, mediated disputes, and helped create a better magical society.
"Then he was killed by a rampaging Sir Herbert Varney, whilst leading a squad to capture said vampire. Like, what a guy! They didn't even burn him off the tapestry, because Phineas Nigellus actually approved of his actions."
"He certainly seems like a good guy, I guess." Harry volunteered, somewhat bemused by the almost frantic energy his godfather had taken on.
"But Reginald Scrimgeour's story got me thinking, Harry," Sirius continued, an eager expression on his face. "For the longest time, I wanted nothing to do with my family legacy. I was content to let it rot and crumble into obscurity, but recently, I've been considering a different path."
He wildly gestured towards the tapestry, encompassing almost the entirety of the Black family history. "There's power in this history, Harry, and not just the dark kind. If people like Reginald can use it to bring about positive change, it made me wonder why I couldn't do the same."
"That sounds great, but I can sense one slight flaw. Aren't you still wanted for escaping Azkaban?"
"Well you see, I wouldn't be the first Lord Black to be a criminal," Sirius declared with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "The goblins would arrange everything for me even if I was guilty, and then when I'm officially the Lord Black, the Ministry's own laws will stop them from being able to stop me."
He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Imagine, Harry, turning the tables on the very system that condemned me without a fair trial. Using this family's resources to fight the very Dark Lord my mother adored.
"I had to ask myself, what remains of a man when that man is dead and gone? If only memories and stories of his deeds will linger on, then is that not his legacy? But if my accomplishments aren't in the tale they tell, are the deeds that go unheralded my legacy as well?
"The question then is whether it is nobler in the mind to be well-liked but ineffectual, or moral but maligned? I'll probably never get my dream of being a hero that all the citizens adore, but if I hide here to save my life, what has my life been for?"
Things I think need explaining:
- Dudley; His appearance is heavily based on what Harry Melling currently looks like. If you can, watch an interview with him, he talks in quite a unique way, which I've tried my best to emulate here.
- Charlus Potter; I know via Pottermore Harry isn't Charlus' grandson, but it works so well it's really hard to ignore. And given his grandparents weren't named in the true canon, it's fair game.
- Charlus, Arcturus & Albus vs Grindelwald; This is my little reference to "When the Roses Bloom Again" By TheBlack'sResurgence. Highly recommend it, although I will say his Black family tree is wildly different to mine.
- Sirius' final quote; Mostly taken from the song "Twisted" by Starkid, from the musical of the same name. Highly recommend watching it for free on their YouTube channel.