CHAPTER – 15 UNVEILING THE MANSION
It became evident that the encounter with the doxies had left Sirius quite on edge, especially after Harry discovered that his godfather had gone ahead and bought the entire neighborhood.
This area, which was typically a small muggle suburb filled with old, rundown houses in the Borough of Islington, had developed a less than stellar reputation over time due to its frequent visits from unsavory elements of the city. Control over the real estate here was firmly in the hands of the muggle mafia, with minimal intervention from the muggle government. Acquiring the properties required a significant amount of muggle currency and a generous application of compulsion charms.
Nevertheless, Sirius had managed to pull it off.
Harry couldn't help but wonder whether to laugh or cry at how the Ministry could overlook such deliberate acts of magic, yet still fine him for the use of a simple hover charm during his first year, one he hadn't even cast himself!
The two Blacks materialized seemingly out of thin air in the middle of the deserted street, accompanied by the customary cracking sound of apparition.
"I can't believe you already know how to apparate!" Sirius exclaimed proudly, draping his arm over Harry's shoulders. "When did you learn that?"
"I've done it twice before, but more out of necessity than anything else," Harry replied with a wry chuckle. "The first time was when I was eight, and the second was recently during the doxy infestation. After losing my wand, I wanted to escape, so I…" he paused, scrunching his nose, "I guess I just acted on instinct and did it again. Next thing I knew, I was in the room with the cloak."
Harry didn't delve any deeper into the incident. He hadn't been particularly forthcoming with his godfather about the dreams that followed. Witnessing that bizarre state of mind firsthand, being that entity… it all made perfect sense in the dream, but upon waking up, an overwhelming sense of wrongness would wash over him.
It was like trying to describe a new color. Or a new flavor. Or a new scent. Something that didn't exist before.
Or perhaps it did exist, but he couldn't put it into words.
Still, he felt guilty for keeping secrets from a man who cared so much about him. He had come close to confiding in Sirius, but Kreacher's unsettling words had given him pause. The fact that the eccentric elf had referred to him as a demon hadn't made matters any easier. There was always the possibility that Sirius would be horrified when he found out. He had already been a tremendous burden on his godfather. What if Sirius decided he was better off without him?
Harry shook his head. No, there was nothing worth mentioning to Sirius about that incident, at least not for now. It was better to consult with Kreacher and investigate the matter further. Technically, it wasn't lying if he intended to tell Sirius eventually, right?
"Well, that's all behind us now," Sirius said with a forced smile, his earlier cheerful expression now a feeble imitation. "With any luck, you won't have to encounter another doxy in your lifetime."
Way to jinx it.
Nodding, Harry observed the ongoing construction in the neighborhood. "So, what's the plan for this neighborhood now?"
He had noticed active construction during his initial visit to the area, but after Sirius's purchase, he had half-expected the work to come to a halt, leaving it unfinished. If this neighborhood transformed into a muggle-free zone, it would be ideal for maintaining their secrecy.
However, the number of workers had increased significantly.
"Oh, I offered the contractors extra incentives to expedite the project. It's truly astonishing how swiftly muggles can accomplish tasks like this. It's almost like... magic," Sirius chuckled. "A muggle real estate developer was planning to revamp the entire area to build condominiums for London's growing population. I liked the idea and decided to take it over."
Harry gave his godfather an incredulous look. "You're selling homes to magical folk?"
"Exactly," Sirius clarified. "Wizards don't typically think much about buying houses; most Muggle-borns and half-bloods often end up renting rooms at the Leaky Cauldron or in Knockturn Alley, and those options are filled with unscrupulous characters. Diagon Alley is too expensive for most. Some even venture into muggle neighborhoods, risking the Statute of Secrecy. I thought a fully magical housing complex might be a hit with the younger crowd."
It was indeed an intriguing idea. Harry pondered where wizards typically lived. Wealthy individuals like Malfoy likely owned various estates, but what about the rest of the wizarding population? He idly wondered if Hermione would consider renting an apartment here once the construction was completed. Perhaps then, he could have friends over during the summer for a change.
"I've given this quite a bit of thought," his godfather admitted. "A solitary magical family residing in a muggle suburb is asking for trouble. A wizarding community like this, on the other hand, offers greater security. You and I will maintain a few apartments here, concealed and protected by numerous wards. I'd love to see Voldemort and his followers attempt to pinpoint your true location."
"But what about Grimmauld Place?"
Since he had awakened from his coma, the townhouse had undergone extensive renovations. Harry had been quite surprised when he visited the house and found an entirely different structure standing in its place.
Sirius sighed lightly. "Unfortunately, both I and, eventually, you will have to use it for business purposes. However, don't worry. We'll continue to live in Grimmauld Place until the remaining construction work is finished. Besides," he added with a mischievous grin, "I doubt your lady friend would prefer a dark, gloomy mansion over a modern apartment when she visits, right?"
He concluded with a wink.
Heat crept up Harry's neck as he averted his gaze. Since leaving Gringotts, his godfather had been playfully teasing him about his connection to Fleur Delacour.
"When are you meeting her again?"
"Tomorrow," he replied gruffly. Personally, he didn't understand what all the fuss was about. He doubted someone like Fleur Delacour would be interested in someone like him. Even if he disregarded the age difference, Fleur seemed like the embodiment of perfection and grace, while he felt like... well, just himself.
"And before you say anything," he quickly added, cutting off whatever Sirius was about to say, "it's not a date. We're meeting to discuss my accounts."
"At an ice cream parlor."
"It's a neutral location," Harry emphasized. While inviting her to Grimmauld Place might have been the most secure option, he didn't want to give his godfather more ammunition, especially given Fleur's veela heritage. He was also relieved that Sirius hadn't attempted to give him "The Talk" yet.
"Neutral," Sirius repeated, his grin growing wider. "Is that what the youngsters call it these days? James would have been so proud. A veela..." He wiped away an imaginary tear from his cheek. "You're quite lucky."
"We are not dating," Harry insisted. Why wouldn't Sirius drop the subject?
Honestly, Sirius Black baffled him. When he first met the man, he was a deranged fugitive. Throughout the past year, Sirius seemed to be gaining more focus, but there was always a wild streak beneath his calm exterior. What was even more surprising was that Sirius's demeanor and attitude shifted depending on who he was interacting with. He played the role of a fun-loving, somewhat goofy uncle when with Dumbledore, transformed into a ruthless figure with Ripclaw, and demonstrated impressive mental and magical fortitude when dealing with a goblin who had initially disregarded him. The man was audacious enough to challenge goblins, tenacious enough to contest his own Family Charter, and clever enough to turn shady muggle suburbs into a profitable venture. Plus, if the words of the DMLE Director were any indication, he was skilled enough with a wand to be mistaken for Voldemort's right-hand man.
"I've heard they can be quite adaptable."
But he was also a shameless pervert, a trait Harry was still getting used to. Despite this, Harry owed his godfather a lot, so he tried not to judge him too harshly for his... quirks.
"Look, I'm not saying you have to jump into bed with her," Sirius said, raising his hands in surrender. "But you are Harry Potter—the Boy-Who-Lived, Triwizard Champion, a young man who is immune to her allure. The ladies always like a bit of mystery. Now, you're her employer, so you have that 'boss man' aura too..."
Harry had no idea how to respond to any of that.
Suddenly, as they stepped into the atrium of Grimmauld Place, Sirius gripped his arm tightly, forcing him to stop. "Stay here, and no matter what, stay calm."
"Why?" Harry furrowed his brow. "What's going to happen?"
"Lar of Black!" his godfather declared firmly. "Your Lord requires your presence."
There was a rushing sound, like a heavy curtain rustling in a strong breeze. From the dark and seemingly endless shadows beneath the dining table ahead, an eerie, gravelly voice emerged. "I am here, Lord Black."
Harry couldn't help it; he drew a sharp breath and instinctively backed away from the source until he was pressed against the wall, his wand in hand. He had encountered many unsettling things in the past—dementors, basilisks, dragons—but the voice of that thing sent shivers down his spine like nothing else he had ever experienced.
"Take it easy," Sirius reassured him. "This is the Lar, the guardian deity of House Black. Its duty is to protect the House and its Lord at any cost."
Harry could only stammer in response. He didn't even know how to react!
Sirius shot a meaningful glance toward the shadows. "You're making my godson uncomfortable. Reveal yourself."
Describing what happened next was nearly impossible with words alone, but the darkness seemed to melt away, transforming into something else. Harry sensed an unusual shift in energy, a transformation that made the entity simultaneously more and less than what it had been. Large, floppy ears appeared, followed by two thin palms that slowly pulled the rest of its frail body from beneath the table. The shadows clinging to its form transformed into tattered rags, and its beady eyes regarded Sirius and Harry with an unfamiliar recognition.
"Kreacher," Harry whispered.
"Not Kreacher," Sirius corrected him. "It's the Lar inhabiting him."
"I exist to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," the Lar rasped through Kreacher's voice.
"Don't worry, Harry," his godfather assured him, "magical residences often have protectors. Some have krups, others have matagots. Ancient families have elves. And the noble ones like us, we possess a unique form of Family Magic that shapes itself into a spiritual guardian, somewhat akin to the Patronus charm, but more... sentient, I suppose. We call them Lares."
"And Kreacher..."
"Is currently hosting the Black Lar."
Harry frowned. "There's just so much I don't know."
"Heh!" Sirius chuckled. "Honestly, I didn't either. Remember when I fell during the adoption ceremony, and some magical stuff happened, resulting in me getting this?" He displayed the obsidian ring on his hand, the one adorned with a jaguar engraving. "This is the Lord's ring, and with it comes a whole bunch of information that's, well, floating around in my head right now. I'm still trying to make sense of it all."
Harry became acutely aware of his own ring, snugly resting on his ring finger. Since House Peverell's supposed extinction predates Gringotts, the goblins didn't have a House Ring for him. Hence, he was granted the Lord's ring for House Potter—an amethyst ring with the House Potter emblem on top and the motto "Suis stat viribus" engraved along the sides.
He Stands by His Own Strength—The Potter Family Motto.
Unfortunately, Griphook hadn't permitted him access to his family's books. Not until he secured his Lord's seat in the Wizengamot. Perhaps then, he'd uncover what had happened to the Potter Family Manor. Even Sirius couldn't provide information about it, despite his years spent living there.
"So, this Lar..."
"It guards the House, and as the Lord, I command it."
He turned to face Kreacher. "This is Harry Potter. By the authority of Lord Black, I recognize him as a son of my House. In my absence, he will become Regent, and should I pass away without an heir, his descendants will carry my name and position."
"Sirius!"
"It's necessary, Harry," Sirius explained. "While I was rotting away in Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy, as Black Regent, withdrew over six hundred thousand galleons from the Black Family Vault over the past decade, citing frivolous reasons."
Harry was stunned by the staggering sum involved. "That's..."
"Going to be a headache for him," Sirius finished. "I asked Ripclaw to request Malfoy to provide a detailed account of the gold he withdrew from the Vault. If he can't do it, he'll have to reimburse it from the Malfoy Vaults."
Harry burst out laughing but stopped when Kreacher—the Lar—fixed its gaze on him.
"I acknowledge," Harry said.
Harry felt an unsettling sensation hearing that gravelly tone directed at him.
"I am the Lar of House Black. I am the devoted servant of Tezcatlipoca, the Family Magic of the Black lineage. I am the essence of the one called Kreacher. I am... Black Manor." The creature remained motionless, yet it seemed to stand taller all of a sudden. "In my Lord's presence, I awaken to guard. In his absence, I slumber and gather dust."
That certainly sounded like it was the House itself speaking. What a strange concept to grasp.
"The elf known as Kreacher serves while I lie dormant, as I have done since Lord Arcturus's ascension to the Lordship, ninety-six years ago today." The Lar fixed its alien gaze on Harry. "Are you willing to accept your responsibilities, son of House Black?"
Harry was at a loss for words and uncertain if he should even speak. He was accustomed to the old Kreacher, who would have likely given him a disdainful look or called him a mudblood, among other things.
"I—uh..."
"Declare that you are obligated to follow only commands that do not contradict the laws and directives of Lord Black and the Black Family Charter," it advised.
"You..." Harry bit his tongue, realizing it wasn't a good idea to provoke a tremendously powerful being he could barely stand in the presence of. "It's... strange to hear you speak like this. Now you sound like one of my primary school teachers."
"Perhaps because I am addressing a child," the Lar responded slowly. "The comparison is apt."
Sirius stifled his laughter with his fist.
"May I suggest you proceed with the customary rituals, Lord Black? Tempus fugit."
Sirius snapped his fingers. "I knew I was forgetting something."
"What is it referring to?" Harry asked with curiosity.
"I need to attune the House's wards to myself first and then have a traditional conversation with the previous Lord, in this case, my grandfather's portrait, which should be kept in his office."
"The office is accessible and prepared for your use," the Lar stated in a monotone.
Sirius turned to Harry. "Would you like to accompany me—"
"Actually," Harry interrupted, gathering his composure before meeting the Lar's gaze directly, "I have a few questions I'd like to ask." He softened his expression when he saw the concern on Sirius's face. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. This time, at least."
"Are you... sure?"
Harry nodded.
Sirius appeared pained for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. "Alright, but be cautious. If you need anything, just call out."
Harry nodded and watched patiently as Sirius ascended the stairwell. Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to the Lar standing before him. It may have been utterly obedient to Sirius, but Harry had enough experience with Kreacher to understand that politeness didn't necessarily equate to friendship. It meant they might check if the ropes were tight enough before picking up the scalpel. Kreacher—or the Lar, or whatever it wished to be called—might be an ally, for now, but it was definitely not his friend.
His recent experiences had certainly been a testament to that fact.
"So," he started, his voice surprisingly composed. "You're the House. It's quite ironic, considering the rather unusual events I've encountered in this place lately. I have a few questions for you regarding those."
The Lar regarded him intently, its shadow expanding and engulfing most of the chamber in its ominous, murky depths. "I expected as much, Demon."
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