994Chapter 1: The Midnight Visit
This is going to be close to canon, with a close to canon Harry (which according to my poll, no one likes). Maybe with this rewrite, he won't be a wuss.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. He is own by J.K. Rowling, and all the people that she paid to make her rich. This is the disclaimer for the entire fic.
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The fifteen year old Harry sat in his window of his bedroom contemplating. It had been a horrible year at Hogwarts, with the torturous detentions with Umbridge, the mind-rap… ummm, Occlumency lessons with Snape and then Sirius dying. It couldn't have been worse.
It had been a rough three weeks since the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries. He thought he'd gone through the cycle of grief and was dealing with it well. Only time would tell.
Now with the Prophecy hanging over his head, he was reviewing his life as he stared at the night sky. Glancing at the clock he could see it was going on midnight.
Something had to change. He couldn't win this war by luck alone, which is what had seen him through all his years at school. He wasn't stupid enough to think he had survived on skill. Now, he was wondering what he could do to get that skill, but what could he do? He needed to look over his past to understand where he was to go in the future.
Going back over his time at Hogwarts, he found that he was being manipulated by the headmaster. Subtle things, from his choice of house to his choice of friends. While not drastic things, he needed to get some control over his own life. However, what could he do stuck in his relatives' home? Relatives that Dumbledore, himself, had said he knew would give Harry 'ten dark and lonely years'. He growled at that and hit the window pane in frustration.
'How could I find anything out from here? How can I see what's going on in the wizarding world when I'm not a part of it?' were his fleeting thoughts. If last year taught him anything, it was that he needed to know what was going on if he was to survive.
'I need somewhere to hide, and train. I need time. I need more control over my magic, maybe more power…' Harry paused in his thoughts, tripping silently over that last word. 'Power — the Dark Lords equal. This would mean I'm as powerful as Voldemort, doesn't it? If we're equals why don't I feel as powerful as he does? Maybe something's wrong. Perhaps I should see a healer. But then again, Madam Pomfrey never noticed anything or maybe she has, and she reported it to Dumbledore, and…'
A loud pop interrupted his midnight musings. Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at the intruder, ready to cast any spell in his albeit small arsenal.
"Kreacher," the teen spat, pure venom dripping off that one word as he spotted the house elf in his room, "what the bloody hell are you doing in my room?" He never thought he'd see this hated being again. He had hoped the vile creature died.
"Blood-traitor Master has ordered poor Kreacher to give this letter to the half-blood Master. Poor Kreacher has no choice, but to obey. How my Mistress wails that the Ancient and Noble House of Black is now ruled by a half-blood. Poor Mistress," the ugly, ill dressed, house elf grumbled as he bowed and groveled on the floor.
"Shut up, Kreacher. Where is this letter? Why didn't you bring it sooner? Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you," Harry grit out, hatred clear in his eyes. Only his sense of right and wrong stayed his hand. Though, a million thoughts of how to torture and kill this… creature flew through his head. This miserable thing had played a vital role to the death of Sirius.
"Blood-traitor Master is telling Kreacher to wait three weeks after the bond shifted before bringing the letter," the old house elf sneered as he raised his head to look at the teen. He didn't feel any love for the kid either.
"What bond?" came the confused question.
"Half-blood Master is now Kreacher's Master. The Mistress is so upset." The elf started wailing, only for Harry to tell him to be quiet again. His devotion to that painting of Sirius's mother was disturbing.
"Where is this letter?" Harry asked again, finally putting his wand back into place as he considered what he had just been told. 'Bonded with Kreacher? What the hell am I supposed to do with him?' he thought as he gave a full body shudder. He didn't want to have anything to do with this… traitor.
Kreacher reached under his filthy, ragged pillowcase and handed Harry the envelope.
The teen took it and glanced down. It was Sirius's handwriting, curved and eloquent. It was nice for a man who had spent so long in prison. Harry looked sadly at the envelope, unshed tears forming in his eyes. He truly missed his godfather, and this brought that home.
"Kreacher," he said, thinking about how he could get away from this… being, "I want you to go back to Grimmauld Place and I want you to do your job and clean it. Wait, belay that. Dobby," the teen called his excitable friend.
The green-eyed house elf popped into view not two moments after his name had been called. The elf blinked, and smiled brightly at the wizard he was quite proud to call his friend. "What can Dobby be doing for the Great Harry Potter, sir?"
Harry had to hold back his laughter since the tiny being was dressed in childlike clothing, with many hats purchased on his head, and wearing socks that gathered on his spindly feet. "Dobby, I want to hire you. I'll double whatever Hogwarts pays you and you'll have one day off a week. Plus, you can wear all the clothes you want," he offered, thinking that Dobby would love some work. Hogwarts must be dead boring during the summer.
"Ah, sir, you can't be hiring Dobby," the house elf stated with an excited look on his face, albeit he looked a little concerned. It was a strange combination.
Harry frowned at this news. "What? Why not?" he questioned with a tilt of his head. Not understanding why he couldn't do this favor for his little friend.
"Harry Potter is already owning Dobby," came the shy reply as he glanced up to his master to see how he took that news.
"What? When did that happen?" Now Harry was very confused, thinking he'd remember such a ceremony.
Dobby looked down at the floor and started pulling his ears. "Dobby is very sorry, Harry Potter, but Dobby was dying and he is knowing the Great Harry Potter would save Dobby. So Dobby is bounding himself and Harry Potter together, sir," the little elf explained with a hopeful gleam in his huge eyes.
"Dying? Why were you dying?" Harry asked in confusion. He hated not knowing when one of his friends was hurting. This was another reason why he wanted to make sure he was getting information as to what was happening in the wizarding world. People kept hiding things from him. Even his friends it seemed.
"If a house elf is not being bonded, they will be dying slowly. If Dobby did not bind himself to the Great Harry Potter he would be dead by next year." That hopeful look never left those big green eyes.
"Oh, I guess that makes sense. Don't worry, Dobby, I'm not mad," he said, hoping to take that slight fear out of his buddy's eyes. Then he had a thought, "How'd you do this without me knowing?" Harry was not sure how all of this made him feel. On one hand, it saved Dobby. On the other hand, he now owned two slaves. But, were they really slaves? If it was a symbiotic relationship, then what exactly was the relationship? He was brought back from his musing by Dobby.
"Dobby did ask Harry Potter," the elf stated earnestly. "Dobby asked Harry Potter last year, before Harry Potter was going to see his Paddy on Christmas break. Dobby asked Harry Potter, if Harry Potter could be owning a house elf would he be owning Dobby. Then you be saying yes and we is being bonded. Dobby is, sorry sir. Dobby will iron his feet as punishment," Dobby wailed loudly, big droplets of tears cascading down his wrinkled face.
"No, Dobby, stop wailing. You'll wake everyone. If you're my house elf, then you'll not punish yourself. That goes for you too, Kreacher," Harry added, glancing over at the first house elf. Kreacher turned away and grumbled, so the wizard turned back to his green-eyed friend. "Dobby, how is Winky?" he asked with some concern. If they needed to be bonded then the female house elf must be suffering.
"Winky is not good, sir. She is not working and is only drinking butterbeer all day long. Dobby is trying to talk to her, but she is throwing bottles at Dobby," Dobby answered crestfallen, thinking his female peer would have naught but a year or so to live at this rate.
Harry noted his friend's sad face and came to the conclusion that he'd help, but he really did not want have to deal with a drunken house elf in the middle of the night. However, he could not leave her like that either. "Dobby, is there any way you can restrain her so I can ask her if she wants to bond? However, I don't want a drunken house elf waking the family. Then again, I don't want to leave her like that. If she is important to you, then I'll help," he said, echoing his thoughts and placing a hand on the excitable house elf's shoulder.
"Dobby is doing this right away, sir." And with a pop he was gone, leaving Harry's hand hanging in midair, until he smiled and dropped it.
Harry looked at Kreacher. 'What am I to do with him?' he thought, glaring at the elf. There really was no love lost between the two.
Kreacher looked back at Harry, and the mutual hatred could be seen in both their eyes.
"Just stand there, and be quiet," the teen spat at the hated being.
Kreacher glared at his new owner, but sullenly did as he was ordered.
Harry looked at the letter still in his hand. Wondering if he should read it now or wait until the house elf situation was sorted. He really wanted to know what the letter said. However, he didn't want to start the letter only to have to stop in the middle of it to fix what was happening around him.
The matter was taken out of his hand when Dobby and a bound Winky popped into his room. There were no physical bindings which he could see. But the fact that she did nothing but plop herself down on her rump instead of tottering to stand obediently in front of him, gave him proof enough that his directions had been followed.
The dark-haired wizard looked at the half sober Winky and noted that her pink dress was stained with spilled butterbeer. 'Should I do this?' he mused to himself. The thought was entertained for no more than a few moments before he addressed the new house elf. "Winky, Dobby tells me you're not happy being free. Do you want to bond with me? Just nod your head for yes or give it a shake for no," was the soft command. He would leave it up to her whether or not to bond, but from the look in her large blue eyes when he asked, he was pretty sure what the answer would be.
Winky's eyes widened and she nodded her head so hard that the young man was concerned that she might hurt something. She looked at her would-be master and there was hope in those eyes.
"Dobby, is she sober?" he asked, wanting to make absolutely sure that she was making her decision with a clear head.
"Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is making her, sober. Dobby is a good house elf and is doing what Master is telling him to be doing," the little elf answered with a hint of pride. His tiny chest puffed at the thought that he was doing something for Harry Potter for the first time.
The green-eyed youth turned back to Winky. Her eyes were filled with trepidation, hope, longing, and caution. "Can you make it so she can talk? I want to make absolutely sure she knows what is going on." his gaze never left the pink clad house elf.
Dobby snapped his fingers and Winky wasted no time to start talking. "Is Harry Potter really wanting Winky? Winky is a good house elf. Winky is not liking being free. Winky did nothing wrong. Winky is wanting a family. Why is Harry Potter wanting Winky?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. She didn't understand why the teen wanted a free elf. Then she looked at Dobby and a small bit of realization flitted through her still muddled brain.
"Winky, is it true that you'll die if you're unbounded?" Harry asked, ignoring the other questions for now. He crouched down to stare in to her large blue eyes, showing he was serious.
"Yes, Harry Potter sir, this is being true." She nodded her head as she began to further understand that this was a good human and only concerned for her health.
"Then I won't let that happen. How do we bond?" he asked, looking between the two not angry elves, ignoring Kreacher for now. He knew from the explanation that Dobby had given earlier that it wasn't that complicated. But since he had been basically tricked into it, well it was better to ask.
"Winky is asking Harry Potter does he want to bond with Winky, and Harry Potter is saying yes or no," Winky said in wide-eyed wonder. There was a sparkle in her eye that Harry was sure she had not had since she had practically been chucked out of her last house.
"Ask then," Harry stated firmly. That coincided with what Dobby said, and he was glad it wasn't something over the top.
The awestruck Winky trembled within her bonds. She was practically vibrating across the floor as she questioned solemnly, "Does Harry Potter want to bond with Winky?"
"Yes, Winky, I'll bond with you," the teen said with a big smile.
Winky shrieked with happiness, bouncing up and down within the limits of her bonds. She was just so ecstatic that she had a master. Now, she was a proper elf.
"Shhh," Harry warned as he cast a look towards his door. Thankfully, it remained closed and the house stayed dark. "Quiet, Winky, or you'll wake my uncle," he warned, making calming motions with his hands.
Winky stopped the joyful noise immediately. "Sorry, Master Harry Potter, sir." The little female elf hopped over to the wardrobe and started banging her head against it violently. Her new master pulled her back as the noise bounced off the walls of the silent house.
'Seriously, how many house elves hit themselves against the head for punishment? What was with the obsession?' Harry wondered as he took his new friend and placed her on the floor. "Winky, stop. My house elves don't punish themselves. Stop now," he demanded in a harsh whisper, hoping she didn't wake his godforsaken relatives. "Dobby, be so kind as to let her go. Winky, I need you to keep calm and not make a lot of noise. My relatives wouldn't be happy with you lot in my room."
Winky stopped and turned to her new master. 'Why was he so kind to Winky?' she thought.
With a snap of Dobby's fingers, she was free.
Harry listened with bated breath for noises of movement outside his room. All he could hear was snores. Breathing a sigh of relief, he figured now it was time to empty his room of house elves. Though his relatives were not physically abusive, they had quite a temper, and the teenager really did not want to be locked in his room for the remainder of the summer.
"Dobby, Winky, I want you to go to Hogwarts in the morning and tell the headmaster you've found work and you'll be leaving. Don't tell him where, just tell him that you found a family. After that, I want you to go to Grimmauld Place. Kreacher should already be there. I don't think anyone is there, but try not to attract attention. As a matter of fact, don't let anyone see you if you can help it," he ordered softly, not wanting to come across as a hard master. "In the meantime, Kreacher, Winky, I need you two to clean up and put something presentable on and then could all three of you clean the attic? Remove all the Dark objects and put them in a trunk. If you fill that trunk, then find another.
"Oh wait, if Buckbeak is still there, can you set him free? If you can pop him to the Forbidden Forest, then do that, please. Hey, can you pop people?" the tired messy-haired wizard inquired, thinking that poor Buckbeak must be dying of either boredom or lack of food being cooped up alone in Mrs. Black old bedroom. Hippogriffs should not be locked up, but free and flying. Harry doubted that the Ministry was still looking for one average colored Hippogriff.
Dobby response was swift, "Yes, Harry Potter, house elves can pop people and anything a master is wanting moved."
"Good to know," Harry said before he continued. "Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, Buckbeak. Get him to the Forest, okay? Kreacher as your punishment for lying, and getting your Master killed,"—he ignored the gasps and looks of horror that came from Dobby and Winky—"you're to take down the portrait of Mrs. Black and move it to the attic when you're done cleaning up there. You're never to go up there again. You'll take orders from only me. Not the Order or any other portrait in the house. If, someone orders you to do something, check with me first. Dobby, Winky, since only I'm to know you're there, I want you to ask me if someone calls you and gives you an order. But since you're going to tell Dumbledore that you have a new family, that shouldn't happen, but better safe than sorry."
"Kreacher must be doing as the half-blood Master is telling him. Kreacher is not liking this and the Mistress will not be happy," Kreacher mumbled angrily. His already grumpy features took a severe downturn when his new half-blood Master had mentioned the moving of Mrs. Black's portrait.
Harry suddenly felt he had to take more drastic measures and reaffirm his new status to the ugly house elf. "Kreacher, the only three people you'll ever speak to, until I tell you otherwise, are in this room. Until you can talk with respect, you'll not voice aloud, mumble, or communicate in any way with anyone outside of this room. Do you understand?" the teenager said heatedly, his green eyes glared at the hated being.
"Kreacher is understanding the half-blood." His grey eyes glared right back, but orders were orders. He would miss his Mistress and his shrunken heart was breaking on the inside. His scowl intensified at that thought.
"I'd like the attic cleaned and that portrait off the wall by tomorrow night. I don't care if you have to take half the wall to do it. Dobby, if he does have to tear up the wall, can you make sure it's replaced? And make it look like no damage was done?" the young wizard asked, hoping that it could be done. He didn't want the Order questioning what was happening. They'd inquire where the portrait went, but Kreacher couldn't talk, so there was that.
"Yes, sir, Harry Potter, I can be doing all these things," the excitable house elf answered, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his many hat swayed with the motion.
"Good. Winky, I'd like you to set Buckbeak free first and then help clean the attic. Make sure you take care of yourselves, including resting and eating. Then, when the attic is done, Kreacher you need to find everything the Order threw out. Dobby, I need you to see if you can ban Mundungus out of the house. I don't want that thief to be in there. Winky, you start on the next floor down," Harry gave orders, making sure to look at the elf he was addressing.
"Dobby will be seeing if hes can. If not, then maybes he will be asking Kreacher," the smallest elf said, looking at the older elf questioningly.
Kreacher looked back and reluctantly nodded his head.
"Good, do what you can," Harry said. "Now, all of you have your orders, so I need you to go now. Report back to me—if I'm alone—when all of this is done."
Three pops, after two exclamations of 'Yes, sir!', and one disapproving grunt later, the room was empty.
The tired wizard looked at the clock. 12:43 a.m. He glanced at the envelope that was still in his hand. He knew he would not be able to sleep until he read it. With a longing look at his bed and a slightly depressed sigh, he pulled out two pieces of parchment. The first one read:
Harry,
If you're reading this, and Kreacher followed my orders, then I've been dead for three weeks. I made him wait that long in hopes you got over my death. Please, don't mourn for me long. Try and remember the happy times. Know that I loved you like my own son. Well, truth be told, you are my son.
Remember when I asked you for some of your blood? I told you it was for a potion for you? Then I gave you that potion and told you it was for your health? Well, it was for a blood adoption. Since you gave your blood willingly, I could do this. I don't want you to think I am trying to replace your parents because I swear I'm not. Lily and James will always be your parents, it just that now you have two fathers.
Sorry that I didn't tell you, but since you don't know Occlumency I had to keep it secret. Since I'm now dead it will all come out in the will reading. I have some very good reasons for doing what I did, besides the fact that I do truly love you like a son.
One of those reasons is so Malfoy Jr. will not inherit my title and fortune. You see Draco was next in line if I had no children. With me on the run and no ladies around… well, you get the picture. Do you really want that kind of power and money to go to a family in league with Voldemort? And what a great prank to play on them. I wish I could see their faces! But I can't, since I've been dead for a while.
The second reason is to give you a chance to break free of Dumbledore. Don't get me wrong he is a great man and a powerful wizard, but he doesn't seem to have your best interest at heart. He told me he cares about you, but I know that he is setting you up to fail. I'm not sure what his plans are, but you're not expected to live.
Now these are only suspicions, but from the few conversations I've heard around Headquarters, I feel I'm right. If I am not, then it will still get you away from your awful relatives. I know that that it is something you've wanted for a long time and I know that it is something Albus won't let happen. Now that you are my son, I've made arrangements to make sure you are emancipated when my will is read, then he won't have a say in where you live.
Get to Gringotts. Claim your title. Talk to the head goblin, Ragnuk, if you can. Have them arrange a healer to scan you. I think there is a block on your core. I know James had to put one on you as a baby—it's standard practice if the baby is strong magically. I don't think it's been removed. If you need to, tell Kreacher to take you.
I wanted to do so much with you. Teach you how to be a Lord (or a Head of House as it's also called), teach you how to pull pranks, and give you the Little Wizard talk. Now you will have to find someone else. I recommend Remus. He'll always be trustworthy, and—as much as it pains me to even write this—in the event of my death, he'll be your father's last living friend. Pettigrew doesn't count, that cowardly traitor.
Harry, I really don't want you to blame yourself. I don't know how I'll die, but I have a feeling it will be soon. I'm close to cracking as it is. Azkaban did me no favors and being in my mother's house is not helping. Besides, there's a limit one person can take and I've reached it. So, I know I'll most likely do something stupid soon. My choices are my own and no one makes them for me.
Remember I love you and again don't mourn for me long. But please try to talk to someone. It helps.
Love always,
Sirius Orion Black
P.S. You're a famous wizard, Harry, and it might be time to stop hiding. Use the press to put you in a good light. If I remember correctly, you own a good share of the Prophet. Use that to your advantage. Get your side heard. Get a solicitor.
P.P.S. The second letter is a copy of my will so, if for some reason you cannot make the reading, you'll know what it says. No one can take this from you, Harry. You are my son. I had Kreacher take me to Gringotts and update my will so it will directly reflect that, and you can inherit everything: the titles, the money and everything that comes with being the Head of the Black family. Do with this what you will, but try to bring the family name at least into the grey area and out of the black (pun intended). You will be in charge and hold a lot of power. Use it wisely.
Harry put the letter down. He had tears running down his face and a lump in his throat. Sirius loved him enough to make him his son. All doubts fled his mind. He picked up the copy of the will and scanned it. Other than a few monetary allotments to Remus, Tonks, and the Weasley family, and some books for Snape and Hermione, nothing seemed to be leaving the House. There were a few people added or removed from the Black family and he was glad that he didn't have to do it. Other than that, it was all his; including the money, the houses, the title, and all the possession with in the vaults.
He would give it all back, everything, to have Sirius here.
'I'll always miss you Sirius,' he thought as he wiped the tears from his face. 'I'll mourn the fact that we didn't know each other better. But I'll do as you suggested.'
He put the letters back in the envelope and placed it under the loose floorboard under his bed. The now exhausted teenager laid down, put his glasses on the nightstand, and fell into a restless sleep.
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Edited 10/05/24: added a bit and fixed many errors. This was my first story, and I did a rewrite back in 2015. I sucked as a writer back then. My goodness. I'm still not good with grammar. I'll be the first to admit that, but I was horrified at how bad this was. I'm going from chapter to chapter and fixing this as best I can. If you see glaring errors, let me know.