Chapter 2: Explanations
Sorry to those that thought Snitch was going to be here. This is not a crossover. This was a challenge fic and that was the name of the challenge. The challenge was from Chartry and her Emmi's collection on AO3.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.
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"No," Harry said, looking at the old man with undisguised disgust. He had learned a lot about one Albus Dumbledore during his time away. What he learned he didn't like. "Where's my owl?" he asked, throwing everyone for a loop.
"I beg your pardon," Dumbledore said, looking affronted, by both responses. First, he denied him information, and he demanded something from him, like he was a thief.
"I said, where's my owl? I went to the owlery and she's not there. Since you're the only one who leaves this hellhole, you must have taken her. So, where is she?" Harry said, still glaring daggers at the man. If anything happened to her, he was going to go ballistic on the old man. Damn anyone who complained.
"No, I mean what do you mean it is not my business?" Albus asked, coming into the room and standing over the still seated boy. As if looming over him would intimidate him. He wasn't going to be talked to like that from a teenager. He didn't get this old by being bullied by youngsters.
Harry stood up, turned around and stepped forward, making Dumbledore have to step back. He stepped forward again, once more making the headmaster retreat. "Where is my owl?" he asked a fourth time.
"She is unharmed," Albus stated, moving to get out of the boy's way, though he did it in such a way that it looked like he was not intimidated.
"I want her here by morning," Harry said and then he left the room. He dismissed the man as if he was unimportant. He wasn't going to give him any more of his time. He wasn't going to answer his questions.
"Harry James Potter, come back here right now!" Molly yelled as he walked out.
He ignored her and continued on his way. He didn't take orders from her or anyone else in this house. He started up the stairs, throwing a spell at the curtains at the foot of said stairs. They would not open until someone started shouting. No longer would they open when someone walked by. Now only loud noises would bother her. He could just take it down, but the portrait of Mrs. Black amused him, so he left her there.
Hermione and Ron got up and chased him down. "Harry, wait!" Hermione called, following him up the stairs. She was desperate to get answers from him, she had been so worried. She would not have been able to do the ritual if she had not been.
"What did you need, Hermione?" the Boy-Who-Lived asked in a friendly tone. Though it bordered on neutral. He glanced at Ron and saw passiveness. Just what he thought he'd see.
"Can you tell us where you've been?" she asked shyly. She still felt guilty about not writing to him, and she didn't want him to yell at her. She wanted to take him into a hug and make him feel loved. However, she didn't think he'd welcome it right now.
"I'll tell you, but not Ron," he said, cutting a biting look at his 'best mate'.
"Oi, why not me? I'm your best mate," Ron asked indignantly. He was worried that Harry knew how he really felt.
"I heard what you told Hermione about me when I was gone," was all Harry would say, though the look on his face spoke volumes. It screamed that he loathed the other boy.
Ron had the decency to look abashed. "Look, mate, you know how I get. I just don't like that you're in danger again," he tried to reason it out with Harry. He didn't want to give up his place by the Boy-Who-Lived's side.
"No, you look, mate, I don't need a fair-weather friend. I'm tired of you only being there when it's convenient for you. So, just bugger off," Harry said, sticking out his arm for Hermione to take. "If you want my story, come on," he told her, making her bite her lip with indecision.
Hermione thought about it only for a moment. She was tired of Ron's behavior as well, so she took the arm and went with Harry. "Lead the way," she said, pointedly not looking at Ron. She knew from experience that he would start yelling any second now.
And sure enough, he did. "Fine, fuck you anyway, Harry Potter! You wanker! I don't need you or your pansy arse fame!" Ron started shouting, making Mrs. Black wake up and start yelling about blood-traitors and mudbloods. That caused Ron to start screaming at her.
Harry just smirked and started walking up the stairs, taking Hermione with him.
"So, where were you?" she asked when they were within a good distance away from the commotion Ron and Mrs. Black's portrait were causing. Now they could hear Mrs. Weasley had joined the fray. It was quite the shouting match going on down there.
"Let's find Sirius, and I'll tell you what I can," Harry said, leading her up the stairs to Sirius's room. He wasn't sure how much he could tell them. It really was hard to describe and there was so much to tell.
As they were walking Hermione noticed that he didn't ask for directions. "How do you know where to go? You've never been in this house before," she asked as he expertly guided her through the halls.
Harry blushed like he had been caught stealing from the biscuit jar. "I was watching you lot on my downtime," he explained with a shrug. He tried to come off as casual, but the pink on his cheeks gave him away. He had seen some things that he shouldn't have.
"I don't understand," she said, looking sideways at him as they came to Sirius's door.
Harry reached up and knocked on the door and waited without answering her. He opened the door when he heard a 'What' come through the wood. "Sirius, you up for some company?" he asked as they entered. He was glad that conversation was over. Not that he'd seen anything naughty, but there were some things he really hadn't needed to know.
"Sure, Harry, come on in. Don't mind the mess," the dogman said, waving his wand and moving some of his clothes from the floor to a pile in the corner. He didn't allow Kreacher to come into his room more than once a week to gather the laundry. He liked his room untidy. It made him feel more at home.
The room was large with chairs, a chaise lounge, a queen bed, a dresser and a nightstand. It was all done in browns and blues, which clashed with the red and gold decorations. There were posters of half-naked women on the walls leaning on cars and motorbikes. It was very muggle.
"I came to tell you and Hermione about my time away," Harry said, waving his hand and clearing off a chair. He guided the clothes to the bed and then showed Hermione to the chair. "There's not much I can tell you. I was beyond depressed about the way everyone was treating me, the year I had just gone through at Hogwarts… well, everything really. I was having a bit of a cry, when I was transported to a - grey area," he explained, making a vague motion with his hands. Like he wasn't sure how to describe it.
"A grey area?" Sirius asked, giving him a confused look. He shared a look with Hermione, who looked just as bewildered.
"I'm not sure how to describe it. It's like all the color is bleached out of it. It's there, but not," Harry said, looking around the room for inspiration. He couldn't find any, so he moved on. "Anyway, I got there, majorly depressed and I hear a woman's voice telling me that everything was going to be okay. I look up and there's Mum." It had been a spiritual experience for him. He had been hugged by his mother for the first time that moment. Well, that he could remember. He knew love for the first time too. He lived in that moment.
"How is that possible?" Hermione wanted to know. "I know you told me you were there, but I still don't understand," she said, trying to wrap her mind around it.
"I don't know, and they would only tell me that Death liked me. Whatever that means," Harry said with a shudder. He was still unsure how to deal with that fact. He was sure somehow it was going to bite him in the arse later. "Back to my story, Mum was there, as was Dad. There were three others there. Merlin, Godric and Rowena." That had been a treat too. Those three were a hoot to meet and get to know.
"Why those three?" the ever-inquisitive witch asked, leaning forward.
"They were the most knowledgeable in their field of their time," Harry said, giving her a smile. He knew he wouldn't be able to get through the whole story without being interrupted many times. He didn't mind, he loved her like a sister and was used to her ways. He was sure Sirius would ask many questions as well. "I learned magic from Merlin, swordplay from Godric and theory from Rowena," he said, counting them off on his fingers.
"What kind of theory?" was Hermione's next question.
"Basic magical theory. Nothing too strenuous. I'm not going to turn into a bookworm, no worries," he told her. They found out in that space that Harry was not a brainiac. He was not stupid, but not a genius. Rowena Ravenclaw had crammed all she could in his brain and then made sure he understood all she had taught him. He could sit his NEWTs right now, and that was good enough.
"You said your parents were there," Sirius said, eager to hear more about them. "What did they do?" He wanted to know everything. He missed his best friend, something fierce.
"They were there for love and moral support," Harry said, looking at him with kindness. "They told me all about you and your childhood. About your times in Hogwarts, and what you got up too," he said, giving the man as smile that bordered on mischief. "I know you were pranksters, but damn… all those women. You stud, you," he said, winking at the ex-man-whore. Sirius's conquests were well known to all those that were there at the time.
"Well, you see, um, I was, um, I can, um…" Sirius said, looking around the room in embarrassment. He might have been quite promiscuous in his youth, but Azkaban had put paid to that. He couldn't even get it up anymore. Which meant that there wouldn't be any heirs. Harry was his heir right now, but he had been hoping for a child. His dreams were crushed when he found out he was impotent.
"Don't worry about that, Sirius, I can help you there," Harry said, winking at him again. He knew his problem and Merlin had told him about it and how to fix it. He would help him now. He walked forward from where he was standing and went to touch his godfather on the forehead and let the light inside him flow.
A bright light surrounded Sirius, and the room glowed a dull green. "Wow, that's wonderful," the dogman said, as his pride started to fill for the first time in fifteen years. He felt like a man. Just as quickly as it happened it deflated, but the feeling it left behind remained. "Thanks, Harry." He beamed at his godson and was thankful to him for what he had done. He didn't know if he fixed him completely, but at least he could now get his leg over.
"You're welcome," Harry said, going back to where he had been standing. "Anyway, my parents loved me when they were alive and still love me now. They wanted me to know that, and didn't want me dead, so they brought me to them, via Death."
"Death?" chimed both Sirius and Hermione.
"Yeah, he likes me. Whatever that means," Harry said with another shudder. Then he smiled and said, "They thought I was on the verge of suicide, so they brought me to them to prevent that and taught me about family and what it means. I know how I feel about the two of you," he said, giving them both a smile. "Hermione, you are like a sister to me, and Sirius, a big brother or uncle."
"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said, getting up and giving him a hug.
"Yes, thank you, Harry. I can be an uncle," Sirius said, joining in on the hug.
They stayed like that for a few moments and just enjoyed the feelings of family. Then they broke apart.
"What of the Dursleys?" Hermione asked, wondering how he felt about his real family. They were his by blood.
"They are not family, they are relatives, there's a difference," Harry stated, grimacing. He might give Dudley a reprieve, but not Petunia or Vernon. Those two burned their bridges. Harry was quite rich, and he could have given them the world. Now they will get nothing.
"So, what else did you learn?" Hermione asked, eager to learn what Merlin had taught him.
"Merlin taught me about magic," Harry said, showing them some wandless magic by putting some fire in his hand. He bounced it back and forth between his hands and then conjured two more and started juggling them.
"How are you not burning yourself?" Sirius asked, looking at him with wide-eyed wonder.
"Magic," Harry said with laughter in his voice. He snuffed the fires out with a thought and then waved his hands and lit the room alight with stars and rainbows. He added some fireworks for good measure. He laughed some more. "It's just magic," he said again at their wonderous stares.
"That's wicked," Sirius stated still watching, eyes blown wide. He'd seen Dumbledore do some things close to that, but not wandlessly.
"It's all about intent," Harry said, answering Hermione's question before she asked it. "You just have to have the intent to do it and use it." He conjured another ball of fire to show her once again.
"I don't understand," the bushy-haired girl said, scrunching her brow in concentration. She thought hard on what he said, and it made sense, but it went against everything she'd been taught these last four years.
Harry snuffed the fire out and frowned a bit. "It'll be trickier for you, because you think linear. You need an imagination, and you don't really have one. I'm not saying you can't do it, but it'll be harder," he stated, trying to be realistic and supportive at the same time. He knew she'd get it in time, but it will be difficult.
"I like to think I have some imagination," Hermione said primly. Though she knew she really didn't have much of one. She can lose herself in a written world, but not write one of her own.
"Sure, you do," he teased her, leaning over and tweaking her nose.
"What about me?" Sirius asked, eagerly. He knew he had an imagination. Sure, it was dark, but it was there.
"You might be able to. You have the imagination, but you're damaged," Harry said, looking at his godfather carefully. "Give it a try, just imagine the fire in your hand and it not burning it," he suggested with a small wave of his hand.
Sirius got a look of concentration on his face, and he stared at his hand. It started to smoke but no flames came off it. His face burst out with a huge grin. "I almost had it," he said, shaking his hand from the warmth of it.
Hermione did the same thing, but she only got a wisp of vapor for her trouble. She sighed and shook her head. "I am going to have to try harder," she said, sighing again. "I will keep trying though," she said, nodding her head decisively. She tried again, with less results.
Sirius kept playing with his hand too. Minutes later, he got a small flame, but it burned his hand, and he had to have Harry put his hand out and heal it. They all had a good laugh and decided to call a halt for now.
"Don't try to do that again without me, for now," Harry said, seeing Sirius getting burned was a realization that he was needed. Merlin had kept him from hurting himself, he would be needed to keep them from doing the same.
"How did you learn so much in such a short time?" Hermione asked, sitting back in the chair she had vacated earlier.
"Time is relative," Harry said, waving that thought away. "It just didn't really exist there," he explained it away. "There wasn't a night or day. I didn't need to eat or sleep. We just did what we needed to do. One day bled into another. The only reason I knew when to return was because I could return to whenever I wanted to," Harry said, grinning like a fool.
"You mean you could have come back the same time you left?" Sirius asked, a bit hurt that he had not.
"Yes," was the answer.
"Why didn't you?"
"I wanted to make others suffer," Harry said, then he saw the hurt looks on their faces. "I didn't mean to hurt you two, but the others, they needed to work to find me," he stated, feeling the need to explain that.
"I understand," Sirius said, though he was still hurt. He would have done the same thing.
"I don't, but I forgive you," Hermione said, knowing that she would never understand, but she really didn't need to. She didn't want to drive him away by bothering him. She learned from the past that he didn't like it when she nagged.
"There is one more thing," Harry said, looking around the room and making sure Sirius was sitting down. He didn't want him to fall from the shock of this bit of news.
"Oh?" Sirius said, noting that Harry was paying close attention to him. He wondered what was so bad that he was worried about him.
"I can call on Mum and Dad when I need their help with things. I can't do it often, so no visiting, but if I need help with family business, or love stuff for Mum, I can call on them," he said, still keeping a close eye on Sirius.
"So, I can't see them?" Sirius asked, morosely. That was sad news. James would be on the same plane as him, but he wouldn't be able to see him. That would suck.
"Sorry, Sirius, unless you're in the room, probably not. They love you, but Death was very specific," he told the other man. "Not that I met the… man, but…" That had been a blessing. He didn't want to meet the deity. No one wants to meet Death.
"No, I get it, I wouldn't want to piss off a powerful deity either," the dogman said, holding up his hand in an 'I understand' way.
"So, yeah, I get to call on them if I need them, but only if it's something I can't handle," Harry said, letting them know that Death thought family was important.
"That's great, Harry," Hermione said, giving him another hug.
"I think so," Harry said, returning the hug. He was glad he was back. It felt good to be surrounded by people he thought of as family. Too bad there were people in the house that he really didn't like. The only Weasleys he could stand were the twins, and Mr. Weasley. The rest were just arseholes in his opinion. Well, he really didn't know Bill or Charlie, but the rest, yeah.
"What about Moony?" Sirius asked, looking at Harry so hopefully.
"Well," Harry started, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.