Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the wizarding world	By : zoy_grey Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 10766 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own nor make profit off of JK Rowling's world of Harry Potter, the characters or the timeline. I do own some of the characters that are of my imagination as well as the plot that I came up with.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: Finally uploaded another chapter ^^' Alright, there are still some things happening that you might not understand what they have to do with Harry, but they do; moreover, from now on, Harry will be more involved in the story and he's definitely not going to be a helpless and manipulated by others teenager ;) Btw. next chapter is almost finished so I should update within the next few days.
CHAPTER 6
During the last two and a half years Harry’s life changed drastically. From a badly treated and underestimated boy he grew up into a proud and brave teenager.
He still had to live with the Dursleys, but professor Dumbledore said it was to keep him safe, especially since he already encountered Voldemort twice. Harry didn’t understand exactly how come he was safer with his relatives, but it was probably some old and powerful magic; and he didn’t have any reason to distrust the Headmaster; after all, he was the greatest Light wizard of their times.
Even though Harry had to spend summer with his family, he could always count on his friends – Hermione, Ron and the rest of the Weasley family. Sometimes he wondered why the Weasleys lived the way they did if they were purebloods, but he chased such thoughts quickly away; it wasn’t really his concern; they were happy and others didn’t have the right to judge them.
There were also times when Harry wondered about his own family. He knew his magical relatives were dead, but when they were alive they had to live somewhere; that made him wonder where did they use to live; did they live in a house similar to the one Dursleys owned or rather a house like the Weasleys?
The strange thing was, Harry hasn’t thought about such matters before. Earlier he had only the Dursleys and they didn’t want to talk about his parents, so he naturally thought no one could tell him about them. However things changed this year. He met his parents’ friend, professor Remus Lupin.
At the beginning he felt happy beyond words; he finally had someone who was a sort of connection with his parents, but things got complicated; around winter, he found out the truth about Sirius Black. Harry was outraged that a person who claimed to be a friend, really betrayed his mother and father; that man was his godfather and should protect him, but instead he helped Voldemort attack him.
The day he found out about his godfather, Harry swore he’d fight with him the moment they’ll cross paths; and he was going to defeat the traitor who ruined his life.

A man in a ragged, grey clothes lurked in the shadows of one of the corridors near the Gryffindor common room. His mad, grey eyes scanned the place around him and the passing students.
Nobody noticed him, but he didn’t mind; that was his purpose. He wanted and needed to get into Gryffindor Tower unseen. He couldn’t risk being caught like the first time; but back then was different. The Fat Lady started screaming the moment she laid eyes on him; but today it was Sir Cadogan who was guarding the entrance and that made things easier. He took the password from the plump third year Gryffindor boy and already managed to get inside once; he simply had to do it once more and look for the damned traitor.
“Good morning, professor Lupin,” said politely a brown haired girl, who just walked out of the tower accompanied by two boys – a redhead and a black haired one.
Immediately, the man got distracted and his gaze darted to the teacher standing there in the corridor. He recognized him at once; even though time has changed the other man, he would still recognize his old friend. Then his gaze landed on the black haired boy looking so much like his friend James. He has seen Harry a few times so far, after he got out of Azkaban, but now he could look at him longer and he saw how much the boy resembled James.
A sudden twinge of pain and bitterness caught his heart. He never asked for life to be perfect, but fortune was too cruel to him - his family was dead; his best friend and Lily were dead too; his other friend betrayed him; he had to spent twelve years in Azkaban and now he couldn’t even talk to his godson. He didn’t wish ill to Remus, but how come Dumbledore kept safe a werewolf as a teacher or even Snivellus, who was a death Eater, and he didn’t even move a finger to get him out of prison. Nobody did anything to help him for all those years. It seemed everyone thought him to be able to betray his friends.
Maybe his parents were right in their beliefs; maybe he shouldn’t place all his trust in the Light side. Then again, the Dark Lord couldn’t be trusted either; he knew that already. The Dark Lord attacked James, Lily and dared to touch little Harry.
That was another matter – Voldemort and the Potters. The majority of the wizarding world thought it was Lily’s love that saved Harry that night twelve years ago, but Sirius Black had a different opinion; he knew something many didn’t know – the Dark Lord vowed not to harm Harry Potter; so when he raised his wand at the boy he dug his own grave. The only thing that bothered Sirius about it was why Voldemort did that. If he planned to attack the Potters than why did he make the vow? If he made the unbreakable vow than why did he attack? It was ridiculous, but maybe there was something he was missing in the whole story.
Nevertheless, he was going to find out the truth and clear things between him and Harry. However, first he had to find the bloody traitor; he had to find Wormtail.
Longingly, he watched how the three Gryffindors walked away with Lupin. Sirius made sure that everyone left and stepped out of the shadows. He walked a few steps towards the portrait guarding the entrance to his former house and quickly stepped back into the shadows as soon as he noticed the portrait; it wasn’t Sir Cadogan. The Fat Lady was proudly present in the canvas of the portrait protecting the Gryffindor Tower.
“Oh bollocks, I won’t get into the common room again,” he swore under his breath. “But don’t you worry Peter. I will catch you.”

Sitting in his office, in the dungeons, Snape couldn’t help but worry. It was spring already; drastic change of temperatures and many students seemed to have caught flu. Something kept bugging him though.
Severus was suspicious about it; something didn’t quite fit. Some of the students from his house were feeling ill too, but they refused to go to Madam Pomfrey for help. At the beginning he was annoyed by their disobedience, but with time he observed increase in health and magical abilities in those students. They were more confident with their magic and got better marks at school. That made Severus wonder what might be the reason for such an outcome.
The last few months he spent on gathering and analysing information. It took him quite some time to create a list of all the students with health problems like his Slytherins. That, however, didn’t clear anything; it seemed nothing linked those students – they were both Muggle-borns and half-bloods, and they lived in all different regions of the UK.
Snape was close to quitting his research, when unexpectedly a new clue showed up.
He observed that some of his students, who strongly refused to take the nutrition potion offered to them by Madam Pomfrey, showed an amazing improvement in using their magic. Moreover, since they stopped taking that particular potion, they never again showed signs of health problems; contrary to those children who obediently took the potion given to them by the school nurse. Severus had many reasons not to believe in Madam Pomfrey’s bad intentions, but the fact remained that she was the one gave a suspicious potion to students.
He stood up and walked to back of his office, where a painting of black and silver snakes tangled together hang. The wizard stopped for a second and made sure he was alone in the room.
“Dissimulo,” he said the Latin password and immediately the painting moved, and revealed a small door in the wall. The potions master cut the tip of his finger and smeared the drop of blood on the door, and it opened at once. Inside were a single vial of a transparent water-like liquid and another vial, which looked almost empty except for the small amount of red liquid inside.
Severus took out both vials, locked his hidden safe and sat by his desk. He stared at the vials lying in front of him and placed a new, empty vial next to them.
Since his discovery of that potion he wanted to test it; see what it actually did. That however required preparation and most of all, certain ingredients. Acquiring a sample of the potion wasn’t the easiest task, since the school nurse was very unpleasant when someone tried to get near her healing potions; yet, after a few tries, the wizard managed to get a vial of the suspicious potion. The second ingredient was the most troublesome to get – a few drops of blood from a student who regularly ingested the potion. Because most of those students weren’t in his house, he had to think of a plot to acquire it. Finally, two days ago, he managed to get some Gryffindor fourth year girl into detention; she accidentally cut herself while scrubbing cauldrons and Severus, as a good teacher, helped her take care of the minor injury.
Now, the only sample he was missing was the blood of someone who stopped taking the potion.
A sudden knock on the door got him out of his thoughts.
“And here she is,” whispered the man to himself and quickly hid the vials in his desk. “Come in!”
The door to the office opened and a blond fifth year Slytherin girl walked in. She came closer and stopped in front of the man’s desk.
“Good morning, professor,” she said politely and out of her bag she took an old book on potions. “I don’t want to bother you on weekend, professor. I just came to give you back the book I’ve borrowed.” The girl handed him the book and left.
As soon as he was alone again, he took his wand and pointed at the book his student just left. Severus cast a nonverbal spell and held the empty vial in his free hand; the glass object started to fill with blood.
The potions master wasn’t happy he used dark, blood magic on his student, but he had to keep the safety measures. No one could find out about him doing a research on that potion; and he was well aware he couldn’t simply ask students to give him a sample of their blood. He knew that particular book had a cover with sharp edges - that’s why he cast a spell on the book; as soon as a person starts bleeding, the pages will absorb the blood.
“Now,” he watched the full vial with slight excitement “let’s see what exactly this mysterious potion does.”

Two wizards entered the crowded hall of St. Mungo’s and headed to the reception. They were silent and wore worried expressions on their faces.
St. Mungo’s was a place always filled with witches and wizards, both patients and family members of patients, but today there were quite a few Healers rushing from one room to the other; as if something unexpected and extraordinary has happened.
When they reached the reception desk they noticed the absence of the witch, who normally sat there and helped everyone find their way in the hospital. The dark skinned man looked around in search of anyone who could give them answers they needed and spotted a middle-aged, dark blond witch taking care of a wizard dressed in a green and orange cloak.
“Excuse me,” he said standing near the woman. “I’m Kingsley Shacklebolt, an auror. I’m here to…” he stopped midsentence when the witch shushed and told him to wait for her at the reception desk.
“What did she say?” asked the other auror waiting for him at the desk.
“We have to wait,” he said and watched the odd injuries of some of the patients waiting in the hall. “They really seem to have a busy day.”
“We’re having a busy time ourselves,” commented the other man.
Indeed, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was constantly busy since last summer. First, Sirius Black escaped Azkaban and tried to break into Hogwarts; Shacklebolt was sure the man was still somewhere close to the school and would try to get inside again and attack Harry Potter. For now, the boy was safe; as long as he was under Dumbledore’s protection, but in two months the school will be over and Black will have quite a few opportunities to get to Potter. If that wasn’t enough, a series of mysterious attacks have been occurring for the last few months. Unknown dark wizard has been attacking random magical children and teenagers. Some people blamed it on Sirius Black again, but to the aurors it seemed highly unlikely. It was more as if this wizard was taking advantage of Black’s escape.
The entire situation was too much; they were working extra hours to catch the culprit and Black, but they failed in both cases. Black was like a shadow; even when someone spotted him, he vanished without leaving any traces. The other wizard’s attacks were also very odd; he used very unusual magic on his victims, but he didn’t hurt them physically.
“Kingsley,” said the other auror. “I’ve already asked that lady where to go. We need to find Healer Asclepius Cartwright.”
“Fourth floor?” asked Shacklebolt absentmindedly heading to the stairs.
“Yes” answered the younger wizard “Just like last week.”
They walked up the stairs to the fourth floor. They were here already nearly a week ago to gather information on the case of those odd attacks, but back then the healers didn’t know much about the spells used on the victims, and the children were in no state to talk about the incident. This morning, healers from St. Mungo’s contacted the Ministry and both aurors hoped they would be more successful this time; they really didn’t have enough time to take care of both cases.
A young nurse walked out of a spacious room in which the wizards saw rows of beds occupied by children in different age.
Not thinking much, the men walked closer and wanted to enter the room, when the nurse blocked the entrance and looked sternly at them.
“Wait a minute. Who do you gentlemen think you are? This is a restricted room; please do not disturb the patients.”
“It’s alright, Ms Collins,” said a tall wizard in his forties “These gentlemen here are aurors from the ministry. They are investigating the case of attacks on those patients.”
“Alright then,” she said and left the three men.
“Please forgive her, she’s just trying to protect those children. The reporters from the Daily Prophet are going out of their minds to find a way in to talk with the patients,” explained the healer.
“Asclepius Cartwright?” asked Shacklebolt.
“Yes. I’m in charge of those patients. I wanted you to come here today, because one of the victims has regained consciousness and you might be able to find out more about the culprit…Although I’m not so sure I should call them victims.”
“Why is that Mr Cartwright?” asked the younger auror.
“Well, it’s true this mysterious wizard used some unknown magic on them and it caused them to lose consciousness for a few weeks, but they weren’t harmed. They don’t have a single scratch, cut or even a bruise. Moreover, when this one patient woke up this morning, he wasn’t even tired and we can’t seem to find any bad changes with his health,” said the healer. “Please, come in and see for yourselves.”
The room was rather spacious, with big windows that allowed sunlight in. By one of the walls stood five beds divided by white screens. In beds laid two girls, not older than eleven years, and three boys aged between twelve and fifteen.
A red haired boy sitting on the bed by the window was the only child awake.
“Ian,” started the healer to catch the boy’s attention “these gentlemen are aurors from the ministry and they’d like to ask you a few questions. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yes,” the boy nodded and turned to face the aurors.
“My name is Shacklebolt and this is auror Williamson. We’re investigating the attack on you and other children. Can you tell us what happened that day?”
Ian sat there in silence for a moment, tried to focus and remember the events of that day. “I guess nothing bad has happened really.”
“What do you mean? You ended in St. Mungo’s for three months,” interrupted Williamson.
“Yes, but he didn’t hurt me,” the boy took deep breath and continued “I was with my friends in London. We were about to go visit some Muggle shops and out of nowhere a black dressed person appeared in a side alley.”
“And Muggles didn’t notice it?” asked Shacklebolt.
“No. It seemed only we could see him,” explained Ian “When he came our way, we ran. It was obvious he was a wizard and we couldn’t use magic, especially not in front of Muggles.”
“What happened later?” kept asking Kingsley.
“I don’t know really. He chased us, but we couldn’t follow where he was, because he kept vanishing and appearing again; he was very agile, he even jumped on and off the buildings. I don’t know how, but the next thing I remember is being held down to the ground by him. He put up some kind of a barrier around, so my friends couldn’t get near us to help me.”
“Do you remember the spell he used on you?” asked the younger auror.
“No, because he didn’t use any,” seeing confused looks on the men’s faces he added “He had some sort of a necklace which started glowing red when it touched my chest.”
“Are you sure he didn’t use any spells? Maybe he cursed you later?” kept talking Williamson.
“Maybe he used some spells later, but I don’t think it was a curse. I lost consciousness later, but I remember warmth spreading through my body and then regaining consciousness here, in St. Mungo’s, but I was unable to talk and move for all this time.”
“Excuse my interruption, but does that mean you were aware of your surroundings for some time now?” asked the healer.
“Yes, I think I was unconscious only for a week or so. I could hear everything, but I couldn’t move. I also felt pain for a while, but it passed.”
“And how do you feel now?” asked Shacklebolt.
“Much better,” if he was to be completely honest, Ian felt better than ever before. “I can’t wait to go back to Hogwarts really.”
Kingsley was relieved the boy was alright; it gave hope for the other victims, but something here didn’t fit. He couldn’t understand why would a dark wizard attack random children and leave them unharmed.
“Do you remember anything that would help us identify the culprit?” he asked the boy.
“Not much. He was dressed all in black and his face was hidden under a white and silver mask. He didn’t even talk much, and his voice was deformed.”
“What did he say to you?” asked Shacklebolt.
“I didn’t understand it. He said ‘don’t fight it; embrace it’,” said Ian.
That was all the information the aurors could get from the teen. They thanked the healer and headed back to the ministry.
“You think it could be some Death Eater?” asked Williamson when they left the hospital.
“The description fits, but I’m not so sure. A Death Eater would rather kill those kids than leave them alive,” the other man sighed heavily “I guess we have to wait for him to make some mistake and leave traces.”
“I don’t like the Daily Prophet’s interest in this case, though.”
“Me neither.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table and were finishing dinner, when a sudden commotion rose at the entrance. The three of them stopped eating to take a look at the main door to the Great Hall.
Professor Flitwick walked in, followed by a fifth year Ravenclaw boy. Immediately other Ravenclaws greeted the boy and led him to their table.
“Wonder what’s that all about,” said Harry focusing on his dinner again.
“Beats me,” was all Ron managed to say before he stuffed his mouth with food.
“Don’t you two read at all?” asked exasperated Hermione.
“You’re the one doing all the reading. I’m starting to think there is not a single book in the library that you haven’t read,” answered Ron.
“I’m not talking about books, Ron,” she took out a newspaper and showed it to the other two. “He came back from St. Mungo’s. See?” she pointed an article.
Harry didn’t like the Daily Prophet – he found the articles there annoying at times - , but he did remember reading something about a series of attacks. If he wasn’t mistaken, an unknown dark wizard was attacking innocent children and teenagers. Harry didn’t want to read about it anymore, because it sickened him that someone could hurt children.
“So you’re saying he was attacked by that lunatic?” asked Ron.
“It’s true. My sister told me he was in the hospital since Christmas,” answered Parvati Patil.
“In the Prophet they say it might have been Sirius Black who attacked them,” said Seamus, who was always up to date with everything that particular newspaper wrote.
The name, Black, always worked on Harry the same way; he was immediately alert. He wanted to look the man in the eyes and take revenge for betraying his parents.
“I don’t think so,” he heard Hermione’s bossy tone “Why would he move from London to Hogwarts and back, again and again? After all, he wants to…” she stopped midsentence and looked worried at Harry.
She and Ron knew more about Black and his motives than other students, because Harry told them the truth. Hermione almost revealed that secret when she knew she shouldn’t. However, the thing that worried her most was Harry’s well-being. She remembered how distraught he was when he found out about Black being his godfather and a traitor; she knew her friend would never forgive the man for what he has done. Now, the Daily Prophet claimed Sirius Black to be doing awful crimes again, and that knowledge didn’t help to calm Harry down.
“He wants what?” kept asking curious Seamus.
“To get into Hogwarts,” finished Harry and stood up from the table.
“Where are you going, mate?” asked Ron.
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” he explained and walked without waiting for his friends.
Walking up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower Harry didn’t pay much attention to other students sending worried looks his way. Anyone could sense something strange in his behaviour for the last few months, but no one really knew how to talk with him about it. Harry himself felt he was acting differently, though he blamed it all on Sirius Black.
Another thing that bugged him was Voldemort. Not that he anticipated meeting him again, but this was the first time, since he started Hogwarts, the end of school year was nearing and he didn’t have to risk his life to fight Voldemort or save someone’s life.
‘Maybe I’ll get the chance to fight Black instead,’ he thought to himself while entering the common room. ‘I wouldn’t mind that.’
The hole in the wall closed behind him and a sudden flash of light blinded him.
“What…” he rubbed his eyes and saw an excited Colin Creevey smiling at him “…are you doing, Colin?”
The second year started yet another monologue and Harry started regretting his question.
He knew perfectly well, the boy was something close to his fan number one and as much as it was fluttering it was also frustrating sometimes. There were days when Harry couldn’t even eat in peace, because the boy was intent on taking pictures of everything that Harry did during day. He was thankful he wasn’t Colin’s classmate, though.
“So?” asked the younger boy catching Harry’s attention.
“Sorry Colin, but I’m really tired,” he answered not knowing really what the other one was asking about and walked to his dormitory.
“But Harry,” started Colin following his idol up the stairs.
“I said NO,” he almost shouted at the boy, but stopped as soon as he realised what he has done. He didn’t mean to be rude Colin, but honestly, the boy didn’t know when to quit – a “no” is a “no”. “Sorry Colin. Not today. We’ll talk tomorrow, alright?”
Thankfully the younger boy was content with his answer, smiled brightly and walked away.
Harry went to the third year boy’s dormitory and locked the door. The rest of his classmates were still in the Great Hall, which he was grateful for. He threw himself on his bed and drew the curtains close.
‘Why, on Merlin’s name, do I feel so angry?’ he kept asking himself. ‘It’s like first year all over again. They keep hiding things from me. Why can’t they tell me everything that happened to my parents back then?’
He rolled to the side and tried to fall asleep. ‘I have to do something about that foul mood I’m in. Otherwise I might hex someone.’

Narcissa dressed in an elegant, expensive dark blue dress was pacing in the main hall of the manor. She was already late for the meeting she planed that afternoon and she hated the idea of being late. Even if her cousin didn’t show up today – like many times before – she still didn’t like being on tight schedule, especially when she had important matters to attend to.
Sighing heavily in desperation, she stormed to her husband’s study and wrote a short message for him to know where she was going.
“Mitzi!” she called for the house elf.
A quiet popping sound followed by a loud thud announced the elf’s arrival.
Narcissa turned around to face the creature that served in the manor the longest of all their house elves. Her gaze landed on a pile of dirty clothes and pots. She kneeled next to it and watched the elf getting out from under the dirty objects.
“I’ll talk with my father-in-law and Lucius about acquiring one more house elf,” the corners of the witch’s lips slightly moved upwards and then she took the piece of parchment and handed it to Mitzi.
“Mitzi be a good house elf, Mistress. Mitzi will make sure the rest of house elves work well,” she said while trying to collect the mass of clothes and pots.
The witch looked curious at the sad elf before her and said “I’m not going to send you away. You’re doing your job well, but since last year we’re missing one house elf, so you don’t have to do everything by yourself.”
Mitzi’s face lit brightly. She served in Malfoy Manor all her life and she watched over the other two elves; but since Dobby left the Malfoys, she and Jissi had to work twice as much.
“Give this to my husband or his father as soon as they come home,” said Narcissa and walked out, leaving the - now happy - house elf.
She exited the wards protecting the manor and disapparated to Diagon Alley.
As always, the street was bustling with people; thankfully not as many as during summer. The witch headed straight to Gringott’s, when she felt someone’s hand placed on her shoulder. She turned around, ready to offend whomever dared to interrupt her, but in the end she didn’t do anything; she was speechless when the person in front of her was her cousin, from her mother’s side of the family.
“Carys?” was all she was able to say.
“You did invite me for a tea today, Cissy,” answered the other witch forcing a weak smile to her face.
“Yes, that’s true,” Narcissa regained her composure and continued “But you never replied to any invitations, neither mine nor Stella’s. We were worried about you.”
“Please forgive my previous behaviour. I needed time to deal with my loss.”
“It’s understandable,” Narcissa took her hand, squeezed it lightly and send her a reassuring smile; she knew what it meant to lose a sibling, but at least she had her husband; Carys’ brother was killed and her lover was taken away from her without as much as an explanation. “Are you feeling better now?”
“Not much…but it’s about time I came back among the living,” she said. “So, would you like to have that cup of tea?”
Narcissa didn’t want to be rude to her cousin - especially now, when finally after twelve years she came out of her house. The problem was, she thought Carys would ignore her invitation and so she already planned an important meeting in Gringott’s; making the goblins wait for her, wasn’t an option either.
She looked at her cousin; then checked her purse if she had all the necessary documents. Finally she’s made up her mind and said “Would you mind joining me to the bank first? I have a family business to take care of and later we could have that tea.”
“I don’t think Lucius would like me to listen to your family matters.”
“Oh, don’t worry about my husband. You’re more than welcome. It’s a Black family matter after all,” Narcissa answered nonchalantly and smiled at the other witch.
“If your certain than alright.”
And she was certain. Carys was a family member and those Narcissa cherished a lot – even with Andromeda and Sirius, she could never force herself to hate them, but she kept that fact to herself.
Walking down Diagon Alley and entering the bank, she observed her cousin from the corner of her eyes; it was almost a miracle she was back to her normal self after over ten years of isolation and despair. Narcissa heard from her uncle how badly Carys was taking the end of the war, and that made her even more surprised to see her looking the way she remembered seeing her last time.
The witch was younger than Narcissa by six years, but they shared a few family features; Carys had long, curly blond hair loosely tied in the back of her head and heavy-lidded eyes of an amazing colour. Judging by her appearance, she was feeling fine, but the older witch knew how she was before – energetic and temperamental; now she was wearing a mask of indifference and Narcissa wondered if she’d ever be her normal self again.
“Mrs Malfoy,” greeted the goblin appointed for their meeting; then he noticed the other woman “Ms Rosier, how may I help you?”
“My cousin will participate in our meeting,” explained Narcissa.
The goblin wasn’t happy about it, but nodded and showed them to a room almost completely occupied by rows of shelves and drawers. In the centre, close to the entrance stood a big old table and three armchairs. The witches sat down as did the goblin.
“How may I be of help to you Mrs Malfoy?” started the creature while drumming its fingers on the table; impatience clear in its behaviour.
“I requested this meeting not as a Malfoy, but as a member of the Black family,” she started and out of her purse took out several documents. “As you know, the ancestral house of the Blacks is located at 12 Grimmauld Place in London and the last owner of that estate, my aunt, Walburga Black passed away few years ago.”
“That’s true,” agreed the goblin.
“As such, I’d like to take over my family’s estate,” announced proudly Narcissa.
It was true indeed; Walburga’s sons were no longer there to inherit Grimmauld Place, Bellatrix was in Azkaban and Andromeda was disowned, which made Narcissa the only person to inherit the house.
“That will be impossible,” answered goblin and watched Mrs Malfoy’s face change from happy and confident to furious.
“You must have not understood me. These documents,” she showed him the papers “clearly state that I’m the last Black capable of inheriting that estate.”
“No, I do understand that part, Mrs Malfoy. I don’t need to see these papers, I know perfectly well who you are,” he smiled viciously; glad to be able to anger the witch. “You see I’ve checked our records considering that particular property and the last will of late Walburga Black, before you came to us today. Based on our documents there is another Black who has the rights to 12 Grimmauld Place.”
“It can’t be…” came out of Carys’ lips.
“I agree,” said the older witch. “It’s outrageous that Gringott’s Bank insists on Sirius inheriting the property if he’s an Azkaban inmate on the run!”

The end of school year was close and Sirius was becoming more and more desperate to get his hands on his so-called friend.
He was well aware that with upcoming summer he’d have to look for the bloody traitor again. No, he had to catch him here, but the damn scum already knew he was after him, so he almost never left the castle or the red haired boy. But Sirius knew, Wormtail had to come out some day and he’d be waiting for him. It didn’t matter anymore if someone saw him; he’d get his revenge even if he had to rip that rat away from the Weasley boy’s hands.
A chance he was counting on occurred at the beginning of June.
Sirius wandered into the Forbidden Forest, in his animagi form when he saw Harry and his friends walk out of Hagrid’s house. He couldn’t believe his luck when he spotted the redhead holding his rat pet.
To be honest, he was surprised that Wormtail found the courage to get out of the castle, but that was probably because he thought Sirius wouldn’t attack him in front of Harry. What he didn’t know was that Black was desperate enough to actually risk doing that.
‘Twinkle, twinkle, little rat; How I wonder what you’re at. Now you’re hiding from me far; Like a coward that you are,’ kept singing in his thoughts Sirius.
He was almost near the Trio when Wormtail noticed him. The rat bit Ron and ran away.
Sirius ran at full speed to catch him, but when they reached the Whomping Willow the boy already got a tight grip on his pet. Thinking it must be his lucky day Black ran straight towards Ron, grabbed him by his leg and dragged into the tunnel and to the Shrieking Shack.

After they’ve dealt with the Whomping Willow, Harry and Hermione walked down the tunnel, hoping to find Ron soon. For a moment there, Harry thought that his more or less peaceful school year had ended – after all, he couldn’t go back to the Dursleys without something odd happening at the end of the term.
He was stopped by Hermione and dragged behind a corner.
“Mione, what are you doing?” he asked.
“Shhh,” she whispered. “Someone’s coming this way.”
When the sound of their voices faded Harry heard quick footsteps. He prepared his wand in case he needed to protect them; the tunnel was leading only one way and there was no possibility to hide.
“Show yourself,” came a short command; but the voice sounded familiar.
“Professor Lupin?” asked Harry and again was dragged by Hermione further behind the corner. He didn’t understand what her problem was; she spoke highly of professor Lupin before; why would they need to hide from him?
“Harry?” the footsteps got louder and the boy popped his head from around the wall to face his teacher. “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous, you shouldn’t be here. Go back to school at once.”
“We’re not leaving without Ron,” answered Harry and forced his friend to show herself too; somehow, Lupin didn’t seem surprised to see her with the boy.
“What about Ron? Is he here?” asked the man.
“The Grimm attacked him and dragged here,” explained Hermione looking suspiciously at the teacher.
“The Grimm? Are you sure about that?” something clicked in the man’s mind and suddenly he became very nervous. “I’m going to find Ron and two go straight to the castle.”
“No,” opposed Harry “I’m going with you professor. You know something nobody wants me to know, I can tell.”
Lupin watched him and smiled to himself. The boy looked very much like James, but that determination and firmness in his voice wasn’t James, it was Lily. Maybe Harry was ready to find out the truth; maybe it wasn’t the best way to keep him away from all the unpleasant information; Harry was growing up – no one’s going to keep him away from reality for the rest of his life; and the boy had the right to know more about his family and their past, even if it wasn’t always pleasant.
“Alright, but stay behind me,” he rushed the teens to move. “And ready your wands…just in case.”
They were getting closer to the end of the tunnel, when they realised it led them to the Shrieking Shack. Harry was surprised how well their DADA teacher knew the tunnel, but said nothing about it. The three of them walked up the stairs and heard Ron.
“It’s a trap,” whispered the redhead, his voice breaking. “He’s an animagus.”
“Twinkle, twinkle, little rat; How I wonder what you’re at. You were hiding from me far; Like a coward that you are,” came a muffled singing voice from behind the wall.
Remus hoped he’d get the chance to speak with Sirius alone; he had plenty of questions to him, but he wasn’t sure it was wise to ask them in front of students who didn’t know the whole situation.
He quietly rushed the three teens towards the door, when the exit was blocked by Black; madness in his eyes and the insane rhyme he sang worsened the bad impression.
“When the night will finally fall; I will make you scream and crawl. You will die for your old crime; Peter, Peter, it’s high time,” he smiled viciously and watched them like a predator.
With one swift move Lupin pushed the Trio behind him and stared at his old friend. Deep inside he knew Sirius couldn’t have killed the Potters or hurt his own godson, but he had to be cautious. Remus followed his friend’s gaze and understood the only person he was after was Wormtail; nobody else.
“I’ve seen you in better shape, Sirius. Finally the flesh reflects the madness within,” said Lupin with mild amusement in his voice.
“Funny thing, especially coming from you, Remus,” the wizard gave a barking laugh and embraced his friend. “I’ve got him, Remus. Let’s kill him together.”
“Wait. Harry doesn’t know the truth,” stopped him Lupin.
“I know the truth. He betrayed my parents. He let Voldemort kill them,” yelled furious Harry, wand in his hand ready to cast some nasty spells.
“Harry, wait. That’s not true. He didn’t betray them. Someone else did,” Remus tried to calm him down and reached for his own wand, just in case. Though, as soon as he got a grip on his wand he was disarmed by someone; someone other than Harry or his friends.
“Having a little get-together after twelve years aren’t you Black and Lupin?” said Snape in a malicious tone, standing in the doorway. The potions master ignored the Trio; he already got used to seeing them whenever there was trouble. “I told Dumbledore he shouldn’t trust you, Lupin. I suspected you were helping an old friend. Now, I’ll have you both sent to Azkaban for that.”
“Severus, please. You know Sirius is innocent. He was never a Death Eater or a supporter of Voldemort,” said the other teacher.
“True. He wasn’t,” agreed Snape “but,…I think prisoner’s clothing suit him and the Dementors,” he pointed his wand at Black, who suddenly looked terrified “the Dementors already miss him so much.”
Harry felt anger growing inside him again. He couldn’t take it anymore; he had enough of all those stupid secrets, which accidentally all concerned him. He wanted to know the truth, the entire truth. Right now he didn’t know who to believe; professor Lupin turned out to be friends with the man he wanted to fight; then again, he heard Sirius was supposed to be a Death Eater and Snape just revealed he really wasn’t.
“Back to the castle,” snarled Snape and pointed to the door. “After you Potter.”
A sudden rush of rage ran through him and Harry disarmed the potions master, who got hit by the spell with such force he landed on the ground unconscious.
“Harry, what have you done?” shouted Hermione “Professor Snape tried to help us.”
The boy couldn’t believe what he heard – Snape helping him? Hilarious.
“No!” yelled Harry. “Tell me the truth, everything. Why did Snape say you weren’t with Voldemort?”
“Because he wasn’t. Sirius, your father, me and Peter Pettigrew were friends in school,” started Lupin.
“Later, when your parents went into hiding with you, Peter was supposed to protect the information of their hiding place,” explained agitated Black. “After Voldemort attacked your house I found Peter, but the scum put the blame on me and ran away.”
“But Pettigrew is dead,” said Harry staring at the two men.
“No, he’s not. He transformed into his animagus form,” explained calmly Remus.
“And he’s in this room,” Sirius pointed at Scabbers. “The bloody coward lived like that for twelve years with the Weasleys.”
“It’s a lie! Scabbers is just a pet,” protested Ron gripping the rat tighter.
“Prove it!” ordered Harry.
He watched Sirius forcefully take the rat from Ron and with professor Lupin’s help turned it back to its human form.
Harry couldn’t decide whether he was satisfied or disappointed by the outcome. Sirius and Lupin weren’t lying and neither did Snape – that he was happy for; at least now he knew a little bit more about the past. What worried him was why no one ever tried to talk with him about it and instead kept it all hidden from him; and how could everyone let Black be put to Azkaban if they knew he never supported Voldemort?
Suddenly, the plump man, who called himself his father’s friend ran to him and begged him to save him from the other two wizards. No words could describe the disgust he felt for the man before him and the overwhelming desire to hurt him badly. Harry looked Pettigrew in the eyes and realised he felt absolutely now compassion for the man; however, with all his might he calmed himself and told the rest of his companions they will be taking the traitor to the castle.
On their way to school, Harry couldn’t help but glance at his godfather every now and then; he was walking side by side with the man he quite recently wanted to kill, but right now he even liked him; in the end, he proved to be a loyal friend.
Even though, Harry didn’t know Sirius Black very well yet, he felt he had someone close to a family member, other than the Dursleys. It gave him a reassuring feeling; even if he wasn’t blood related to his godfather.
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Harry Potter and the wizarding world