Harry Potter: Nirvana by kronos2785

Rating: PG13
Genres: Suspense
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 09/07/2005
Last Updated: 10/07/2005
Status: In Progress

Join Harry on a journey of spiritual enlightenment. Will Harry achieve the ultimate state of
being, Nirvana? what will be the consequences if he succeeds, or fails? This is a story about the
search for oneness with the universe.




1. Chapter I
------------

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. Waner Brothers own the film rights and
stuff. I just own the plot of this story.



A/N: This story may contain philosophies and views on religion that are objection to some
people. Whilst it will not “bash” any religion for the sake of it, the views expressed by the
various characters of this story may not sit well with some members of the reading public. If you
have staunch views on religion and are not open to others opinions and views, please refrain from
reading this story. If you do read it and find it objectional, stop reading.

Thank you.

Lord Kronos





It was a perfectly ordinary Sunday in Little Whinging, Surrey; the neighbours were out lovingly
tending their immaculate lawns, which had only just recovered from the previous summer's
drought. However there was one boy, Harry Potter, who, whilst tending the front yard of his aunt
and uncle, was not doing it lovingly, carefully yes, but not lovingly. How could he lovingly care
for something of his uncle's, after all the abuse that had been heaped on him? Harry was at
breaking point.

The neighbours retreated to the inside of their homes as the midday sun climbed higher in the
sky. Harry wished that he too could go inside where it was cooler. Harry's uncle, Vernon
Dursley, had other ideas for Harry that day, He was not allowed back into the house until the front
yard had been weeded, hedges trimmed, roses pruned, and lawn mowed.

Harry wished he was at Hogwarts, his school, or at The Burrow, his best friend Ron Weasely's
home. *“Or even...”* Harry shook himself off. He would not think about *that*.
*That* was Grimmauld Place, the former residence of the only man to escape Azkaban Prison...
the last of *The Ancient and Noble House of Black*... Harry's Godfather... Sirius Black.
Sirius was dead now, and it was all Harry's fault, or so he kept telling himself.

Harry stood up, looked down the street and wiped his brow with the back of his dirty covered
hand. Harry had one thing on his mind at the moment, and it was not gardening, a question,
*why?* Ever since the vents of that fateful night not even two weeks ago, when he journeyed to
the Ministry of Magic with Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna and lost his Godfather, he had
been asking the same question, *why?* Why did he not put a greater effort into learning
Occlumency? Then Voldemort would not have been able to send Harry that false vision. *Why* had
he not opened the gift from Sirius sooner? *Why* did he not listen to Hermione when she said
she believed it to be a trap? *Why?*

Harry, still standing, was startled out of his thoughts by a loud crack. *“The changing of the
guard,”* Harry thought sarcastically. He spied a cat slinking away from where he heard the
noise. Harry frowned; it was probably one of Mrs Figg's many cats, making sure that Mundungus
arrived for his shift.

“Boy...” Vernon started from the window.

“Just stretching, Uncle Vernon,” Harry interrupted.

“Okay, don't be too long out there.” Vernon had taken Harry's interruption to mean that
they were being watched by his own kind and as such, he needed to put on a civil face towards the
boy.

Harry knelt back down and continued to weed the bed of petunias.



Harry stood up an hour later, the yard finally finished, he walked over to the hosepipe to wash
his hands and to hose down the edging. Looking up, Harry noticed something rather odd; There were
three owls flying in a wide circle, high up, around the area of Little Whinging. They apparently
couldn't find the whoever they were supposed to deliver their letters to.

Harry walked around the back and into the kitchen. Thankfully, Petunia, his mothers sister; his
aunt, and Vernon were in the lounge room watching TV. Harry climbed the stairs to the smallest
bedroom, silently closing the door behind him. Perhaps if he could remain unnoticed, he
wouldn't be given anymore chores for a while.

Leaning up against the door, Harry looked across at his bed. Contemplating taking a nap, he got
one of the biggest surprises of his life since finding out he was a wizard. There in the middle of
his bed sat a tabby cat, apparently reading a book Harry had left open on his bed. “Professor
McGonagall, what brings you here?” Harry asked the cat. Harry stared as the cat transformed very
quickly into a stern looking lady.

“Mr Potter, Harry...” the professor started, her stern exterior cracking to show a soft and
compassionate soul. “I have some news for you. Professor Dumbledore thought it best to wait until
you left here to tell you, but I believe otherwise.”

“Professor?” Harry asked, starting to become worried for the safety of his friends.

“Harry,” Professor McGonagall said soothingly, “there is nothing to worried about. Everyone is
fine,” noticing that Harry was becoming worried, presumably for the safety of his friends. “I am
here, against Dumbledore's wishes I might add, to escort you to Gringotts Bank. Do you have
your letter?”

“What letter? Why do I need to go to Gringotts?” Harry asked confusedly, though relieved to know
that no harm had befallen his friends, *“yet”*.

“You do not have the letter?” McGonagall looked outraged. “I shall be giving Albus a piece of my
mind when I return. No matter,” she said more to herself than to Harry.

With that, Professor McGonagall raised her wand (*“where did that come from?”* Harry
wondered) and flicked it in a series of circles and figure eights so fast, Harry lost count of the
number of repetitions. All the while, the professor was murmuring under her breath.

McGonagall just stood there and waited whilst breathing deeply. Thirty seconds later, the thee
owls that Harry had seen circling the neighbourhood earlier, flew in through the now open
window.

Hedwig, who had been indifferent to the happenings of the room, gave an indignant hoot at the
sight of one owl in particular who refused to land, flying around the room. Harry had to jump and
catch the offensive owl, Pig.

“Harry, do you mind if I have a seat?” McGonagall asked.

“What, of course, Professor,” Harry answered quickly stepping across the room and pulling out
the desk chair for Professor McGonagall.

“That took a bit out of me.”

“Professor, what was stopping the owls from getting through?”

“Some of Albus' work.” McGonagall answered shortly.

“Dumb – Professor Dumbedore's work?”

“Yes, he thought it best that you do not attend Gringotts today. So to stop you from going, it
seems he blocked all you mail.”

“So... why doesn't he want me to go to Gringotts?”

“Mr Potter – Harry, I do not know. You had best open you mail now, we have to get going
soon.”

Harry removed the three letters from their respective owls, they flew off again, out the window,
not waiting for drink of water or a treat. Harry put the one from Ron to the side, and picked up
one of the other two. Turning it over, he saw that it was the letter Professor McGonagall was
talking about. Opening it up he slowly read through it.



*Wednesday, the last*

*Dear Mr Potter,*

*Our Condolences for your recent loss. Mister Sirius Nigellus Black was a good customer of
ours. As such, it is our unfortunate duty to conduct the reading of his Last Will and testament, no
later than three weeks after his untimely death, at Gringotts Wizard Bank.*

*The reading will take place at two this afternoon, all named parties are required to attend,
else, as in accordance with the terms of Mr. Black's Will, they shall forfeit their entire
inheritance.*

*Upon arrival at the bank, ask any attendant to take you to 'The Reading
Room'.*

*Again, please accept our deepest sympathies, Mister Potter.*

*Vice-President Ripshnook*



“Professor, I know this is probably a stupid question, but haven't I already missed the
reading?” Harry asked confusedly after reading when the reading was to take place. “It says that it
was sent last Wednesday, and in the letter it says that the reading was that day...”

“Harry, it's magic, remember? That 'stuff' you do whilst at school?” Minerva
answered with a light smile creeping onto her face. “The goblins like to keep things as straight
forward as possible.”

“Told you it would be a stupid question,” a smile making it's way onto Harry's face as
well.

“Yes, well. Are you ready? We have to be off quickly now,” Said Professor McGonagall, regaining
her stern look.

“Yeah, how are we getting there?” Harry asked curiously, considering it appeared that Professor
Dumbledore didn't know his Transfiguration professor was here.

“Knight Bus. Come along now, Harry. We mustn't keep the goblins waiting.”



*****

As they climbed off the Knight Bus outside The Leaky Cauldron, McGonagall was quick to steer
Harry through the throng of people sitting down to a late lunch. Diagon Alley was even busier, if
it was even possible, than the when students were buying scool supplies. Thankfully Professor
McGonagall made quick work of the walk up to Gringotts.

Once inside, Harry heard his professor let out an audible sigh. It was then that Harry realised
just how much his teacher was risking by bringing him here, seemingly against Dumbledore's
wishes, not to mention the risk of being seen by possible Death Eaters. McGonagall again placed a
hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him towards a free teller.

“Yes?” asked the goblin, not looking up from the large tome.

Um...” Harry started, seeing that his teacher didn't seem to be going to be doing the
talking. “Where is the Reading Room?”

At this the goblin looked up, his eyes straying up to Harry's scar. “Gripshnook!” a goblin
came scurrying over. “Take these two to The Reading Room.”

Not another word was spoken, Gripshnook beckoned them to follow with his finger. Obliging, Harry
and Professor McGonagall followed out through a door into a large spacious corridor. Half way down
there was a set of double doors ajar, letting the light from inside spill out onto the floor of the
corridor. By the time McGonagall and Harry caught up with the goblin, he had pushed one of the
doors open, allowing them entry.

Harry entered first, looking around the room, everyone seemed shocked to see him. Harry laid his
eyes on Dumbledore and just glared. He spied an empty seat next to Hermione, and moved to take it.
As Harry sat down he took in who else was seated at this round table. To his left was Hermione,
followed by Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, a lady he did not know, Albus Dumbledore, Harry gave him
another glare. To his right sat Ron, followed by the rest of the Weasley clan. Then Harry spied
Draco Malfoy opposite him, sitting between Dumbledore and his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, who was
sitting next to an empty seat that Professor McGonagall quickly occupied.

Dumbledore spoke up, “I was just telling everyone present that Harry was unable to attend due to
sickness. It is good to see that Harry is well enough for these proceedings.”

Harry stifled a snort, earning a questioning glance from Hermione. Professor McGonagall looked
like she was about to say something when a goblin walked into the room and placed a small wooden
chest in the middle of the table. The goblin then made his way around to Harry and whispered in his
ear, “Please pull the chest towards yourself and open it.” Harry nodded in understanding, stood up
and reached over.

He almost had his hands on it when Draco stood and said, “What do you think you are doing,
Potter? I'm supposed to be doing that, as the *Head in Waiting* of *The Ancient and
Noble House of Black*!”

“Master Malfoy, please sit down,” the goblin ordered, more than requested. Draco also received a
glare from his mother telling him in simple terms to do what the goblin asked. “Mister Potter, if
you would continue?”

Harry looked stunned, Hermione looked momentarily confused before comprehension dawned on her
face, the same procession of looks passed around all sitting at the table. Professor McGonagall
looked like she knew that was going to happen, as did Dumbledore.

Harry, after being nudged by Hermione, pulled the chest closer to him and then proceeded to lift
the lid slowly. From inside came a voice, “Hurry up and open the damn lid!” Harry, not so much
shocked to here a voice coming from the chest, but more so at whose voice it was. Sirius'
booming voice filled the air again. “Harry, open the damned lid!” Harry complied, a look of pure
astonishment on his face. “Thank you,” A nine inch ghostly apparition of Sirius climbed out over
the edge of the chest, closed the lid and sat on it.

“Now, let's see who is here. Harry, of course...”

Here, Sirius was immediately interrupted by a snort from Professor McGonagall which sounded a
lot like, “No thanks to Albus.”

“Professor Minerva McGonagall, always a pleasure,” Sirius said in acknowledgement of her comment
that no one else had heard. “Hermione Granger, Ronald, Ginevra, Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, Molly
and Arthur Weasley, Cousin Andromeda and her lovely daughter Nymphadora Tonks,” at this Nymphadora
scowled, preferring to be called by her last name, Tonks. Turning to the other side of the table,
“Narcissa and her son Draco Malfoy. Finally Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Here Sirius stood up, stretched his transparent legs and opened the chest
again.

“Now that the official stuff is out of the road, I can now get down to business. Well, as you
are seeing me, I must be dead. I'm sure I went out in a blaze of glory, taking at least five
Death Eaters with me.” Silence reigned at the table. Sirius looked around at them all. “OK, you
*tell* me how I died!”

Harry swallowed, his throat completely dry. Albus broke the silence, “I believe I can answer
that, but perhaps later after certain parties have left the room.”

“Perhaps Albus. On with the show then. First order of business, Harry, I name you as heir to
*The Ancient and Noble House of Black*, along with all associated land titles and non-cash
assets. I've got more to say to you Harry, but later,” Harry nodded sadly.

“To my dear cousin Andromeda, I leave you one million galleons, and to your daughter I leave a
further one million galleons. I would have left your husband some as well, but you know the laws,”
both female Tonks' were wearing extremely solemn faces.

“To my not so dear cousin Narcissa, I leave one million galleons. To her son I leave twenty-five
thousand galleons, an further seventy-five to be held in trust by Narcissa until his twenty-first
birthday,” Draco was seething inside, but so far had managed to keep his tongue in check, perhaps
it was the menace that the goblin had spoken to him with.

“To my second cousins something-removed, I leave one million galleons each,” here the
Weasley's all let out a collective gasp, they had never dreamed of having that much money.
“Think of it as payment for caring for Harry for all those years.” Sirius smiled to Molly, “I know
you want to mother Harry, but you can't now, he needs support, not babying.”

“To Ronald Bilius Weasley, in addition to the one million galleons, I leave my classic racing
broom collection.” Ron was gob smacked, Ginny had to physically close his mouth.

“To Hermione Jane Granger, I leave one million Galleons, and the entire Black Family Library,
less any books Harry would like to keep. Might I suggest you leave the books right where they are
at the moment, I don't think you have the room currently.”

Hermione was stunned and whispered, “It's too much.”

To which Sirius replied, “No one else in this room is going to get the use out of them! Now
there was one million galleons for my other not so dear cousin, Bellatrix, but as she has failed to
attend, that million shall go to the pile which is to be donated to St. Mungo's Hospital for
Magical Maladies and Injuries, a total of fifty-seven million, three hundred and twenty-two
thousand five hundred and one galleons.

“Now that that is all done, would Narcissa and Draco Malfoy kindly remove themselves from this
room?” the apparition of Sirius waited until the doors were securely closed again. “Andromeda, I
truly am sorry for not being able to give you more, but due to the laws, my hands are tied. I wish
you well in the future. And Tonks, I think your Mum would like at least one grandchild before
long,” Sirius added with a wink. “Now if you wouldn't mind, I have some more things to discuss
with other people here. I think I'll speak to Professor McGonagall first. Ripshnook, if you
would?”

The goblin that had been in the room moved to the table whilst Sirius climbed back into the
chest. Ripshnook then took the chest and Sirius over to a small table that Harry only just
noticed.

“Professor, if you would be kind enough to come over here?” Professor McGonagall nodded and made
her way to the arm chair by the table upon which Sirius' chest had been placed. Ripshnook
stepped away, clapped his hands and not a sound could be heard. All that everyone else could see
was Sirius nodding his head as the armchair now had it's back to the rest of the room.



****

Professor McGonagall stood up and walked back to the table, her face betraying nothing about
what had been discussed. “Remus, Sirius would like to speak to you next,” Minerva said as she
resumed her place at the table. Remus stood and went over to talk to Sirius.

A melancholy expression was on his face when he returned, sending Ron over to talk. Ron then
sent Hermione over. All through this Harry kept his eyes on the centre of the table, not trusting
himself enough to speak calmly.

Harry was startled by a hand on his shoulder. His first instinct was to flinch, but Harry
managed to quell it when he realised who it was. “Harry... Sirius wants to speak to you now...”

Harry willed himself to walk over to the chair where he would sit and speak to Sirius. Once
seated, Ripshnook once again clapped his hands and a light blue shimmer prevented them from being
over heard.

“Harry..” Sirius started softly

“I'm sorry Sirius,” Harry interrupted. “It's all my fault.”

“Harry...” Sirius tried again. “I was just talking to the others about what happened that night.
It was not your fault.”

“Yes it is... If I had just tried a little harder to learn Occlumency, I wouldn't have
gotten the false visions of you being tortured.” Harry was becoming hysterical now, Sirius had to
do something, and fast.

“Harry James Potter, you cut that out right this instant. Stop being a self absorbed brat!”

That got Harry's attention, he looked up stunned.

“Now I want you to promise me something, okay?”

“Sure Sirius, anything,” answered Harry.

“I want you to go and meet someone tomorrow.”

“Sure. Who?”

“He's an old friend of your fathers.”

Harry looked at Sirius, confused. “An old friend?”

“Yes Harry. He can explain a lot, and help you though what has happened, more so than anyone
else in this room.”

Harry looked back over the chair. He really didn't think anyone in the room would be able to
help him. Perhaps Dumbledore, but Harry didn't want his help. “OK, Sirius. Where do I have to
go?”

“McGonagall will pick you up tomorrow morning. She will let him know that you are in need of
guidance.”

“Guidance? Who is this man, Sirius?”

“You'll see,” replied Sirius mysteriously. “You might like to take a friend with you when
you meet him for the first time. I'd suggest Hermione but I don't know if she'd be open
to the things this man will have to say, but definitely not Ron. No offence to him, but he
certainly won't understand it all.”

“All what, Sirius?” Harry was getting annoyed at the vagueness of Sirius' answers.

“You'll see... Well that's all that I wanted to talk to you about. Everything that you
have now inherited from me is listed in a folio that you will receive from Ripshnook when you
leave.

“There is just one more thing, I understand from my conversation with Professor McGonagall that
Dumbledore tried to prevent you fro coming today.”

“Apparently,” answered Harry.

“Well, that would be because you are now the single richest wizard in Britain. All that you have
inherited from me is yours to do with as you wish. It won't be going into a trust account like
your inheritance from your parents,” said Sirius. “I want you to use all the money that you want!
Go wild, live a little! The money you'll gain access to next year when you turn seventeen will
be more than enough for you and the rest of your family to live off for many, many generations! So
spend big and travel!” Sirius was grinning broadly now, “You'll want to after you meet this man
tomorrow.”



*****

Professor McGonagall guided Harry back down the Alley to the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione, Ron and
his family followed. Upon entering McGonagall led them all to a back room away from the prying
public.

“Professor,” Harry started, “I'd like to thank you for bringing me here today.”

“That's quite alright Pot – Harry.”

“No, really. I know what a big risk it is for me to be seen in public. Thank you. I'd also
like to ask you about this man I'm supposed to be meeting tomorrow.”

“All in good time, Harry. All in good time.” Answered the professor in as a vague a way as
Sirius had. “Now I need to have a word with Miss Granger. That is if you intend on following
Sirius' advice?”

Harry nodded and moved towards the table. He sat down and looked over at McGonagall and Hermione
talking in hushed tones. Hermione was becoming more and more excited by the idea of meeting this
mystery man. *Perhaps she's being told more than me?* Harry thought sadly. Last
summer's lack of information had really hurt him. He hoped Dumbledore would keep his
promise.



2. Chapter II
-------------

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. Waner Brothers own the film rights and
stuff. I just own the plot of this story.



A/N: This story may contain philosophies and views on religion that are objection to some
people. Whilst it will not “bash” any religion for the sake of it, the views expressed by the
various characters of this story may not sit well with some members of the reading public. If you
have staunch views on religion and are not open to others opinions and views, please refrain from
reading this story. If you do read it and find it objectional, stop reading.

Thank you.

Lord Kronos

Professor McGonagall had returned Harry back to Privet Drive by way of the Knight Bus. He was in
time for dinner with the Dursley's.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, BOY?” yelled Uncle Vernon as soon as he saw Harry. “We come back to find
you missing. We got all our hopes up thinking that your freakish friends had seen fit to remove you
from our house. Only to have them dashed when we realised that all your... *equipment*,”
Vernon spat the word, “was still here.”

“I had a meeting that I only found out about after you had left,” Harry replied calmly, not at
all caring to prolong the shouting match that would have ensued. “I didn't think you'd
appreciate me using *your* paper and pen or *my parchment* and quill, to leave you a
message.” Harry left it at that and walked up the stairs to his room.

“I haven't finished yet, boy. Get back down here so that I can tell you that you'll have
no supper tonight.”



*****

As Harry turned around from closing his bedroom door, he was shocked beyond belief to find
Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, standing in his room.

“See, that is exactly why I didn't want you attending today. I did not want the
Dursley's to make life any harder for you.”

Harry, just starred at his headmaster dumbfounded. How could he say that? Harry's life would
have been much harder had he not been able to attend Sirius' reading. He wouldn't have had
the sense talked into him by Sirius himself. He would have given his share of the inheritance and
position of Head of Family over to Malfoy. How could Dumbledore have wanted that.

“I have come to apologise, Harry,” Dumbledore started after a few moments of awkward silence.
“It appears I have not learned my lesson from last year.”

“Apparently not,” retorted Harry, surprising Dumbledore and himself at the shear gall he was
displaying.

“I have come here to explain why I did what I did, and to make a request of you,” Dumbledore
said, not a twinkle could be seen in his eyes.

“I'll listen,” Harry replied shortly. He walked the two steps to his bed, lay down on it and
closed his eyes.

Dumbledore was shocked at the rudeness that Harry was displaying. Harry clearly didn't think
that he was worth his time. “There is only one reason behind my actions. I did not want you
attending Sirius' will and it causing negative emotions in you. I simply did not want you to
have to experience that.”

“That's your only reason?” Harry enquired from his reclined position, not opening his eyes.
“Don't you think that it should have been my choice as to whether or not I should attend?”

“The failings of a old man who cares too much, Harry.”

“That excuse can only work once. I was ready to forgive and forget that what happened was
partially your fault. I was ready to move on. But you have shown me once again that you don't
deem me worthy enough to make decisions on my own, for myself.” Harry was becoming quite irate. He
had sat up and was looking Dumbledore in the eye.

“Yes, you are quite right. Now onto my request. I'd like to ask that you do not go and see
this man that Sirius is making you go and see.”

Harry, ever curious, couldn't help himself. Instead of saying straight out that he would not
fulfil his request, he asked why.

“Because, Harry,” Dumbledore started out slowly. He appeared to be measuring his words. “Because
I know what this man did to your mother.”

Harry didn't know what to make of what Dumbledore had just said so he just motioned for him
to continue.

“Your mother met this man over the holidays between her fifth and sixth years, like you
hopefully won't.” Dumbledore gave Harry a gentle smile and continued, “he corupted your mothers
ideals and beliefs. He turned her away from the side of the light.”

Harry was well and truly shocked by that very small bit of information. Why had no one mentioned
any of this before?

Dumbledore let this little bit of information sink in before continuing. “I don't want the
same thing to happen to you, Harry.”

“What do you mean, 'turned her from the side of the light?'” Harry asked slowly.

“I mean exactly what I said, Harry. My time here is up. I'll leave the decission in your
hands about whether or not you will meet this man. You now know why I do not want you to.” And with
a swish of his cloak, Dumbledore disappeared from the smallest bedroom in number four Privet
Drive.

Harry sat, stunned at the way Dumbledore had just left him after dropping that bombshell. His
mother had been turned from the side of the light. What did that mean? Harry was thoroughly
confused. Surely someone would have told him this bit of information before. Snape surely would
have loved to taunt Harry with this information.

Harry went to sleep that night, hungry. Dumbledore didn't even think it appropriate to leave
Harry some food. Harry assumed it must have been punishment for attending the reading that day.

*Perhaps*, Harry thought, *perhaps I should go just to spite Dumbledore's wishes?*
Harry had decided. He would meet this man with Hermione. After all, Sirius wouldn't send him
and Hermione to meet someone who turned his mother from the side of light.



