Book One of the Heritage Series:

Harry Potter and the Return of Heritage

Chapter Two

Surprise Arrival

Harry sat down on the hard mattress in his bedroom, his mind was whirling at an alarming pace. What were dementors doing in a muggle suburb? He was certain that he was the only person with magic within five miles of Little Whinging. Remus had told him that all dementors in Britain were monitored and highly controlled by the Ministry of Magic, so what were they doing here?

He was shocked that Aunt Petunia also knew what a dementor was, but what shocked him more was the fact that she had mentioned them. For all of his life, she had denied the existence of the Wizarding World, but tonight, she had volunteered a piece of her knowledge.

He tried to get his mind focused on something else, but the Ministry owl was causing him to start to panic. The Ministry wanted him to attend a hearing about his use of magic in front of a muggle, and he was terrified of being expelled from Hogwarts. Would that mean he would be forbidden from ever using magic again, or would he need to attend another school or be home schooled? He knew that it was rare among wizards to have your wand snapped, and the thought was terrifying. Would that happen to him?

Harry got up, walked over to his desk, and sat down. Taking out a sheet of parchment, quill, and ink, he began to write a letter to Sirius.

Snuffles,

What is going on? I was attacked by dementors and now I am facing expulsion from Hogwarts for saving myself and my cousin! When can I leave this house? I am going mad and need decent company!

Harry.

Looking at his open window, Harry saw that Hedwig was out hunting; she would often sit on the metal mechanism and watch the neighbourhood. He supposed it must remind her of the owlery at Hogwarts, so he indulged her. At least it was better than being locked in a cage for the entire summer.

He couldn't help but feel slightly betrayed by Dumbledore, having now learnt that he had long stationed Mrs Figg in the neighbourhood to keep an eye on him. Harry couldn't count the number of times that she had looked after him while the Dursleys were off enjoying themselves. He remembered her boring him with the pictures of her cats, which he now realised were in actual fact part kneazle.

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. Dumbledore had explained to him at the end of last year that a set of magical protections had been placed around this house. Dumbledore himself had invoked a powerful charm that meant that Harry would be safe where his mother's blood still flowed. Voldemort and his followers would not be able to come within forty miles of the house. He had briefly wondered if Voldemort would be able to cross this protection now that Harry's blood ran in his veins. However, Dumbledore said that while he didn't know what the full effect would be, he knew enough to be sure that Voldemort would still be unable to come into the vicinity of the house.

Yet his headmaster had set a guard to watch him day and night; he assumed that the guards were the presence he had felt a few times over the last four weeks. He had passed it off as his imagination because of his lack of sleep, which was mostly due to nightmares about the graveyard.

Bored of pacing around his room, he began the task of packing all of his belongings into his trunk. He was not certain when he would be leaving, but being prepared couldn't hurt, and it would mean that he could leave quicker.

Throughout the four weeks he had been at the Dursleys, Harry had been depressed and sulking, and he hadn't bothered to keep his room tidy. It had been a small act of rebellion against the Dursleys, and as petty as it was, it made him feel better.

He had just packed away his brewing bag when a flutter of wings came from behind him, accompanied by a low hoot. Turning back, he saw Hedwig standing on her makeshift perch, a dead frog from number twelve's pond in her beak.

"Right you," he said, picking up his parchment and folding it. "I have a job that only you can do."

Hedwig gave him a dirty look and quickly swallowed the remainder of her frog, not taking her stern amber eyes off him.

"Get this to Sirius as quickly as you can. Once you arrive, I want you to make sure that he comes and gets me. Cause as much trouble as you can," Harry said, tying the parchment to her outstretched leg. "And if you see Hermione or Ron, bite their fingers until they give me a decent letter, and make sure it's a long one." He paused for a moment after this speech; he knew owls were intelligent, but he had no idea if she fully understood him.

Hedwig gave him a low hoot and, with a quick nip of his finger, took flight immediately. He watched her fly off into the night sky and before long, she was out of sight.

He sighed heavily. As much as he wanted answers, he wanted company more, and Hedwig was company in her own way.

After about twenty minutes, he had his trunk mostly packed. All that was left were a few books, writing paraphernalia, his pictures of his parents, and a picture of the Twins, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron from Christmas last year. The last was sitting face down on his bedside table.

Frustrated with the lack of things to do and wanting to keep his mind busy, Harry pulled out his potions books and began to read through them. He made a few notes for himself here and there on parchment, but otherwise managed to keep focused, something that was easier now without Snape lurking about.

Just as Harry was in the middle of reading about corrective potioneering, a method to rectify a mis-brewed potion into something salvageable, he heard a rather loud screech from out of the window. He quickly crossed to his window and looked out, but he couldn't tell what had caused the noise. He went to turn away when he noticed a large white bird flying low to the right.

"She can't have delivered the letter already," he said to himself, but sure enough it was Hedwig, with his letter still attached. "Why are you back so soon?" He asked.

Hedwig flew to the top of her cage and held out her leg expectantly.

Frowning, he took the letter. "Why have you brought it back? Couldn't you find him?" He asked her.

Hedwig gave him the second reproachful look of the night and clicked her beak at him.

Opening the letter, he saw that on the back there was a new message in Sirius' handwriting.

Harry,

I met a friend of yours that you sent away with me at the end of your third year. I think the time has come to return him to you. I will see you in ten minutes. You should warn your family that I am coming around for tea.

Snuffles.

Harry's gaze tore up from the note, then he quickly crossed to the window and looked up at the sky. It was getting dark, but there was still enough light to search the sky. There was only one friend that Sirius could mean, but he hadn't expected him to arrive so soon or in person.

He quickly packed the rest of his belongings into his trunk and forced the lid down, then piled his broom and Hedwig's cage next to it. He put on a jacket and shoes and went downstairs.

Dudley was sitting in an armchair while Aunt Petunia caressed his blonde hair and spoke to him as though he were three years old. She was attempting to make him eat a small piece of cake.

"Come on Dudders, you've had a shock. You need something sugary," she said to him tenderly. "You will feel better after you eat it, pumpkin."

"Tosh, Petunia," Uncle Vernon said. "That boy and the demenabobs have addled him; he needs something much stronger than cake!" He turned and grabbed something from the sideboard. "Our boy has been unresponsive for over thirty minutes! He needs something to kick him back in to life."

Uncle Vernon poured a tumbler of amber liquid, then tried to get it past Dudley's sealed lips.

"He will be fine," Harry said.

His aunt and uncle turned around abruptly, eying Harry with surprise and a little fear. He knew Dementors could affect a person, and even though muggles couldn't see them, they could still feel the effects. He wondered briefly what Dudley would have seen, what his worst memory was, but he pushed the thought away. It was private after all, but he couldn't help being curious.

"You're an expert now are you?" Uncle Vernon hissed.

Harry ignored him and looked at Aunt Petunia. "He needs chocolate. Get him a cup of hot chocolate or a bar of chocolate. It will help combat the effects. He has seen his worst memories and he may not want to talk about it yet."

A mixture of emotion crossed his aunt's face, but it was soon replaced by a hard exterior.

"Vernon, do what he says. Get a mug of hot chocolate and a chocolate bar from the tin," she said quickly. "We sent you to bed. What are you doing down here?" She asked Harry as she gripped Dudley's hands with her own and rubbed them softly.

"I thought I should tell you that my godfather will be here in a few minutes."

Aunt Petunia's face lost colour and she looked frightened. "Why is he coming here?" She whispered, her eyes glancing around the room as though she expected Sirius to pop out from behind the sofa.

"I don't know why he is coming; he didn't say," Harry replied plainly. "But I am hoping that he will take me away for the remainder of the summer."

Before Aunt Petunia could respond, Uncle Vernon walked back into the room with a mug full of hot chocolate that would match one of Hagrid's massive cups. In his other hand, Harry saw a number of chocolate bars. At the same moment, there was a knock on the conservatory door.

"Who the blazes is in our garden?" Uncle Vernon exclaimed, walking towards the door. "Petunia, call the police. They're trespassing."

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia whispered urgently. "It's his godfather."

Uncle Vernon, who had the moment before been advancing towards the door, now backtracked and nearly fell over the pouffe. He turned around with a stricken look on his face, his eyes dancing nervously between his wife and son, the conservatory door, and the exit. "What do we do? Why is he here? What did you tell him?" He asked, the last part aimed at Harry accusingly.

"I don't know," Harry said.

"Vernon, help me with Dudders," Aunt Petunia said quickly before saying to Harry. "I want you both out of here as soon as possible!"

Crossing to the conservatory door, Harry looked through the glass. He could see Sirius standing there, with what looked like a strange ripple in the air behind him. With a frown, he unlocked the door.

"Sirius," Harry said with a sigh of relief. "What are you doing here?"

His godfather Harry noted looked far healthier than he had ever seen him. No longer did Sirius look starved, hollow, and gaunt, now he had a fuller brighter appearance. His hair was shorter but hung in sleek black waves and wore immaculate windswept wizard-ware.

"Well I would have thought that was obvious," Sirius said with a roguish smile. "I am recklessly rescuing you!" He then surprised Harry by pulling him into a strong supportive hug as though to prove he was indeed real.

Harry had never been so relieved to see Sirius and felt calmer than he had before the note arrived. He just felt so reassured now that Sirius was here to help him.

Gesturing for him to come in, Harry asked, "Where's Buckbeak?" Looking over the garden, his eye caught the disturbance again, but in the dark it was quite difficult to notice.

"That's him," Sirius said following Harrys look, "I have him under a disillusionment charm; can't be too careful in muggle areas."

"What's going on Sirius?" He asked.

"I left the moment I heard what happened, but I only had enough time to send you an owl," Sirius said, sitting down on the sofa. "I thought it was better to come and get you immediately. If you get left alone for too long, you might do something reckless."

"But you left me alone for a month!" Harry exclaimed.

Sirius raised a hand in surrender. "I know. Believe me, I know. I wanted you to come straight to me the moment you left the station at the end of the school year, but there were things happening that meant that you couldn't."

Harry frowned but didn't comment. He could wait to hear the reason before he started shouting.

"Do you remember what Dumbledore had me do the night I left Hogwarts?" Sirius asked.

Harry thought back to that day in the hospital wing when Sirius had revealed himself to both Molly Weasley and Severus Snape. "Dumbledore sent you to Remus so that you could gather some old friends?" He said thoughtfully.

"Exactly that," Sirius said. "I will not go into the details, but the old friends were all members of the Order of the Phoenix, a secret society that was created to combat Voldemort and his followers, but you will hear more about that later. The reason you've been stuck here for a month is because the protective magic around this house may now be tested for the first time. Lily's protection not only protects you, but your muggle relatives as well. To that end, you must spend a minimum of two to three weeks every year here to recharge those protections. Dumbledore wanted you to stay longer to make sure that they were at their maximum strength, but this is, unfortunately, still one of the safest places for you. Even so, I have been fighting to get you out of here as soon as it was possible."

Harry nodded. It made sense. "So does Dumbledore know you came to get me?" He asked.

"No," Sirius said with a smile. "Remus is the only one who knows. They were going to send a team to collect you in two days, but I wanted you out of here now, especially given recent events. We'll be going to a safe location that I have arranged."

"How will we be getting there?" Harry asked.

"Well, you can either fly behind me on Buckbeak, or you can use that rather expensive broom that I bought you," Sirius said smirking at the mention of one of Harry's prized possessions. "I just need to have a quick word with my cousin who is outside on guard duty, so why don't you go and get your stuff?"

They walked out into the hallway where they saw the Dursley's sitting halfway up the stairs, not being able to get Dudley any higher. Dudley was staring into the mug in his hand, looking slightly better but still a little stupefied.

Sirius glanced at them with obvious contempt in his eyes, but then his eyes fell on Dudley for a long moment and his stern glare softened a degree or two. He, more than anyone else, could understand the effect of Dementors. He looked to Petunia for the first time and the intensity increased again.

"Hello again, Petunia. I have not seen you since the day James and I attempted to invite you to your sister's wedding. Do not worry, I will not be spending much longer in this house. Harry is just getting his things and then we will both be leaving." Crossing to the front door, he opened it slightly and called in a singsong voice, "Nymphadora?"

Harry heard a hiss in response but chose to ignore it and went upstairs to get his trunk. He was surprised to see Uncle Vernon follow him to help, but then he realized that it was so Sirius wouldn't see the locks and cat flap.

When they met back in the living room a few minutes later, Sirius pulled out a set of leather straps from his pocket. "I will tie these straps around your trunk. They have a feather light charm on them. Once we are out of the area I will be able to use magic, but if I used magic now, the Ministry would know immediately."

They got into position in the garden, the trunk attached securely beneath the Firebolt. Sirius mounted Buckbeak and, from what Harry could tell, he had placed some form of harness on the hippogriff. Hedwig's cage was on his lap, held in place by his arms on the reins.

"You all set?" Sirius asked, looking over at Harry.

"Yes. How long will the flight be?" He asked.

"About twenty-five minutes," Sirius said. "After five minutes, I will cast a spell to send your trunk and Hedwig's cage on to the location. Right, I think that's it. Let's go Buckbeak," he finished with a slight kick of his heel and the hippogriff took flight, pushing off with its powerful legs and wings.

Harry kicked off from the ground hard to follow Sirius. His trunk began to sway under him and, even with the charm in place, he could still feel the slight drag on the broom. They shot up high into the sky, blending into the darkness now setting in.

"Harry, follow me," Sirius shouted.

Harry couldn't help but relish in the freedom of being up in the air on his broom. After being confined to Little Whinging for a month, this was paradise. Sirius seemed to be enjoying his flight too, and Harry noticed that he appeared particularly good at riding; he wondered if that came from practice last year. He had ridden bareback once and it had been an unsettling experience, but Sirius was at ease.

Looking down at the ground below, Harry saw that they were quite high up, but he could still distinguish the lights of houses, cars, and streetlamps. The sights below changed as they flew from residential areas to the countryside, and after a few minutes they were out of Surrey. Sirius, as promised, flicked his wand at the trunk hanging below Harry, and it and the cage on Sirius's lap disappeared.

"Sirius, where are we going?" Harry called, drifting closer to his godfather as they soared across the night sky.

"I can't tell you," Sirius replied. "It's magically protected so I can't say the address, but I will say that it's in London and that it's one of my family's houses."

"Is that where Ron and Hermione are?" He asked. "They wouldn't say where they were staying, and that made their letters a bit pointless."

"Yes, they are there, and they can't speak of the place either. They have been told to keep things quiet for security reasons," Sirius explained. "Owls can be intercepted and letters are not very safe."

"But surely you have ways of communicating without owls?" Harry asked.

"Of course we do, but they all require magic, and magic could be traced to your house," Sirius explained. "I know you are angry about the lack of news, but I will explain more when we arrive. While you are underage, any magic you perform or that is performed around you will register at the Ministry of Magic. Now we are out of the area where you live, I can use magic near you. The Ministry will detect it of course but they won't know who performed it and must dismiss it, but once we reach my house they won't be able to trace you at all."

Harry was not exactly sure what Sirius was talking about. Underage magic detection sounded rather complex. "Was that how the Ministry knew that I blew my aunt up in my third year?"

Sirius frowned at him for a moment. "Was that the same night you caught the Knight Bus?"

Harry nodded.

"All magical children who reside in a muggle household are actively monitored by the Ministry. As you grow up, magic naturally occurs. It can be anything from summoning a toy to vanishing the water from a bath. When children do unexplainable things in front of non-familial members, the Ministry intervenes and applies memory charms," Sirius explained pulling the reins to slow Buckbeak to a gentle glide. "Children of magical parents are not as closely monitored as their own use of magic is detected by the Trace, so it's basically turned off in magical homes. Purebloods exploit this rule during the holidays, teaching their children spells and such while they are home."

"So, the Weasley's can use magic at home?" Harry asked in surprise, and he silently wondered if the Ministry had intervened over his own use of accidental magic when he was at school or perhaps the zoo incident.

"Of course," Sirius said with a laugh. "How else do you think Fred and George have been making their joke products?"

Harry smiled to himself at the thought; in hindsight, it should have been obvious. "I guess I thought they were just using potions."

"Oh, they use those too," Sirius said with a smirk. "But many of their products need a bit of wand work. They just keep it between themselves, though. Molly wouldn't approve of their use of magic."

Harry could only imagine her reaction at the Twins using magic. They were bad enough when they weren't using magic. Looking back down at the scene beneath him, Harry suddenly realised that it was London.

"Right, Harry, we are nearly there," Sirius called. "Fly over me so that I can reach your leg; I need to apply the disillusionment charm to you."

Harry did as directed and Sirius cast the spell. An odd sensation spread through his body, as though a cold vine was climbing up his limbs. He looked at his hands, which were holding his broom, and saw that they now blended into the wooden handle. The charm was so good, Harry struggled to see where his hands were, and he made a mental note to learn the useful spell.

They increased their speed flying over the dense city before they began to descend towards a residential area which surrounded an overgrown green square obscured by trees. Harry touched down lightly on the grass, narrowly missing a pile of what looked like dog muck before quickly shouldering his broom.

Sirius jumped off of Buckbeak's back and patted him. "Off you go then, Buckbeak. Fly on round to the garden."

As Buckbeak gave a slight shrill and took flight again, buffeting Harry with the beats of his wings. Sirius removed the charms from them both.

"Follow me. We have arrived," he said with a look of distaste cast at the surrounding area.

Harry followed his gaze and looked up at the buildings that surrounded him. They were old. He wasn't an expert in English architecture, but he would hazard a guess that these houses were Georgian, although he was sure that they had seen much better days.

Even though the square was dark, he could still see that the houses were falling into disrepair. There was rubbish piled up on the curbs and, from the light of the windows, he could see that much of the masonry was dirty and crumbling, and even the windows were mostly cracked and missing.

In the distance, he could hear the sound of drunken men walking down the road. This area may at one point in its history have been home to the elite of London society, but now he was sure that the lowest parts of society were living behind its doors.

Sirius pulled out his wand and, waving it above his head, muttered, "Artolevi." The light from the streetlamps dimmed. "Well, that should make sure no one sees us. This way, Harry," Sirius said, pointing up the square a little.

Harry looked up at the two houses they had stopped in front of. To the left was a house in complete darkness, the only sound of life was the boom of music rattling the windows. On the right, a house with heavy net curtains hanging in the windows, the light from the house showed that the material was grey with dirt.

The appearance of the houses was not the oddest thing; it seemed to Harry that the builders of this street had made a mistake in its numbering, as number eleven was sitting next to number thirteen. Harry frowned, obviously missing some crucial piece of information. Turning back to Sirius, he saw that his godfather was smirking.

"Ah yes, it's quite a mystery. The residents of this road have long pondered the mistake, but have decided to accept it," he said in an amused voice, then took something out of his pocket. "Now, I think that this will help you."

Harry took the proffered object and saw that it was a folded piece of parchment. Opening it, he saw that it contained a short sentence written in a narrow-slanted writing that looked familiar to him. Squinting at the writing in the dim light, he managed to read it.

The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve Grimmauld Place, London.

He couldn't help but find the street name ironic and he wondered why it mentioned a number twelve when it clearly didn't exist.

"I don't –" he started, but before he could finish his sentence, a rundown house seemed to inflate itself from between the joining of number eleven and thirteen. Harry couldn't believe that the muggles in the houses around it did not notice this house appearing. Even after four years in the magical world, it still left him gaping like a child in Honeydukes for the first time.

"But that's –" Harry trailed off, gaping at the house.

"Magic," Sirius said simply, quickly pulling the parchment from his hand and burning it with a touch of his wand. "Come on, we shouldn't stay out here, the area has become a criminal haven since I was a youngster."

They quickly walked up the worn steps towards the recently materialised front door. Its black paint was scratched, and there was a silver doorknocker in the form of a twisted serpent with two dark green stones for eyes. Its mouth was open, ready to strike, and its teeth, while stained with rust, still looked sharp.

When Sirius touched the doorknocker with his hand, its eyes glowed for a moment, then Harry heard the sound of many chains and locks disengaging from the door. It swung inwards with an ominous creak. Harry held his breath, waiting to see what the inside looked like, but it was pitch black and he couldn't see far into the depths of the house.

"Come on, it won't bite! Well nothing in this hallway will anyway." Sirius said with a frown.

When Harry stepped over the threshold and into the house, the first overwhelming thing he noticed was the smell. There was an overwhelming stench of dampness and rot that the house seemed to scream of neglect. He suddenly felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and the house turned incredibly foreboding, darkness surrounding it like a fog.

Sirius quickly followed him into the house and the moment he crossed the threshold, Harry heard a soft hissing noise throughout the room. Suddenly, there was a whoosh, and some extremely old gas lamps flickered into life.

Glancing around the hallway, Harry affirmed that his assumption that this house was neglected was not wrong. The wallpaper was peeling and stained, the carpet threadbare and the chandelier glimmering overhead shrouded in cobwebs. Many age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls, their occupants indistinguishable from their background.

The chandelier and the wall sconces were shaped like serpents, just like the doorknocker. Harry remembered that Sirius said it was one of his family's houses, and he assumed they must have been Slytherin fanatics. While the furniture hinted at wealth, he was certain that this house had not had a single knut spent on it in many years.

"Right, follow me quietly," Sirius whispered. "Don't speak loudly in this hallway. The portraits wake up and start to scream if you do."

Harry nodded and followed Sirius across the hallway. At the end of the hall, there was a large staircase, ornately carved but dirty and in need of repair. Opposite the staircase was a door that was open and led down to what Harry presumed was the kitchen, as he could smell cooking and hear voices coming from below.

Sirius went to walk towards the stairs when he suddenly stopped. Harry walked straight into the back of him as he had not been paying attention. Sirius stooped low and grabbed a flesh-coloured string that was running into the basement.

Sirius gave the string a sharp tug which was accompanied by a loud crack from upstairs, then reeled the string up and put it into his pocket.

"The Twins' newest product," he said by way of an explanation. "Now, follow me up to your room. I don't want anyone to know you are here yet."

Sirius led Harry towards the great wooden staircase. They passed a pair of long moth-eaten black velvet curtains and Harry could see the bottom of a portrait frame poking out from them. He wondered why it was covered before remembering what Sirius had said about them waking up easily. At the bottom of the staircase was an exceptionally large umbrella stand that he was certain had once been the foot of a troll.

The further Harry went in this house, the more confused he became. It reminded him of the horrors he had seen when he had accidently found himself in Knockturn Alley. The walls around the stairs had small alcoves that held the stuffed heads of House Elves, all of which had the same snout-like nose, so Harry assumed that they were from the same family.

The house was disturbing him. Sirius had never mentioned his family to him, but he knew that the Black family was notorious in the Wizarding Community, even on the continent. They were an old family with a very dark past.

Sirius continued to climb the old staircase to the top floor. Harry was about to ask where they were going when they came to a door with a nameplate: Sirius Orion Black, Heir to the House of Black.

"This was my room when I lived here as a boy," Sirius explained and he opened the door. "As you can see, I haven't decorated since I moved in."

The room was spacious and quite handsome. There was a large wooden bed which was heavily carved and matching wardrobe and bedside table. On the other side of the room was a large desk with many papers on it and two tall windows from which hung heavy silver curtains and in front of which stood a regal looking chaise lounge.

With a flick of his wand, Sirius lit the chandelier that hung in the room. The walls, Harry realized, had silver and green wallpaper over which was hung an assortment of pictures and posters, from muggle motorbikes to a large Gryffindor banner. There was a picture of the Marauders at Hogwarts smiling up at him, but he noticed that Wormtail was missing. Then, to his shock, he saw a muggle picture of bikini-clad women.

Sirius sat down on the chaise and gestured at Harry to join him, then performed some complicated wand movements and aimed them around the room. "Privacy charms," he explained. "I think it's time that I came clean to you, Harry."

Harry sat down in the offered chair, silently looking expectantly at Sirius.

"I know that you are eager to hear about Voldemort, but he hasn't done anything yet," Sirius said. "He is waiting and gathering his forces again before he makes his reappearance known."

Harry understood immediately. "That's why I haven't heard anything in the Muggle news then, but why hasn't the Prophet reported that he is back?" He asked.

"Ah, well," Sirius said as he stood and began to look through the papers on his desk, "when you reported to Fudge that Voldemort had returned, he was presented with Crouch Junior as proof, but he had a dementor kiss him on sight when he arrived. Fudge doesn't want to believe that Voldemort has returned, because to accept it would mean the end of his term as Minister for Magic."

Harry was confused. "But as Minister, surely he has a duty to protect the community?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Yes, of course, but he's a politician. Not a particularly good one, I admit, but he knows enough to know that this would spell the end of his term. Fudge is a peacetime Minister, and he doesn't have the backbone or the skill to combat the Death Eaters and Voldemort, so he has been hiding the truth, and Crouch was his first step. The second step was having the Prophet slander both you and Dumbledore."

"But I have a subscription to the Daily Prophet," Harry said. "I didn't see anything."

"Did you read it from beginning to end?" Sirius asked shrewdly.

"Well... No, I was only looking for suspected Death Eater activity," he admitted, now realised that he had been short sighted, and he could just see the look Hermione would give him about that fact.

"Well, you would have to read every page to see it all. They drop your name in a lot of articles, all of which are painting you as attention-seeking and mentally unstable. Fudge's aim is to make sure people don't believe your claims, and he's already had Dumbledore's position as Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards revoked. The general consensus at the moment is that Dumbledore is old and senile and it's time that he stepped down."

"But that's mad," Harry said immediately. "Dumbledore's not – senile," He added lamely, he was about to say old, but he realised how ridiculous that would have sounded.

Sirius noticed his slip of the tongue and smiled. "No, he is not senile. A tad eccentric perhaps, but otherwise as sane as you or I. Do you wonder why Fudge would have him removed? Well, just holding those positions meant that Dumbledore could voice his concerns to those with the power to do something, and if he did, Fudge would lose his own power."

Harry sat, digesting what Sirius had said. He had never liked Fudge; he seemed like a bumbling fool. He remembered the day he met him at the end of the last year, and the way he turned his nose up at him when he saw him with his winnings.

"So what's the Order of the Phoenix doing?" Harry asked.

Sirius didn't answer immediately, contemplating his response. "I will answer your questions, Harry, and I will disclose to you all that I can freely tell you, but at the moment I am more concerned about getting you through the farce Fudge has called a hearing. Please put aside all of your questions about Voldemort and the Order. Now is not the time."

"Alright," Harry agreed. He trusted Sirius' word, and if he said he would tell him another time, then he would. Although he would not wait long, he needed to know what was happening and soon. "So why are we hiding up here?"

"I have a few things that I want to talk to you about," Sirius said, "and I don't want any interference from Dumbledore or Molly. I'm your guardian, and this is my right."

He paused and with a flick of his wand, a large jug of pumpkin juice and two glasses appeared. He poured them both a glass.

"Harry, what do you know about your family history?" Sirius asked after taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

This was one of the last questions he had expected Sirius to ask him, and he sat gazing at him for a moment. Since re-joining the wizarding world, he had learnt a few things about his family but was nowhere near as much as he wanted to know.

"Very little." He answered honestly, "I know that the Potters were an old pure-blood family, my grandparents died before my parents were killed. Dad was a pureblood but married mum which makes me a half-blood. Beyond that, nothing."

Sirius didn't look surprised, in fact Harry thought he looked resigned.

"There is so much that you don't know, although I would have been surprised if someone had approached you or tried to teach you who your family actually are. I admit I am surprised you didn't look into it yourself, but that's neither here nor there. Where to begin?" Sirius sat silently for a moment gathering his thoughts before he asked, "let's try this then. Tell me, what do you know of the Noble and Most Ancient Houses?"

Harry sat completely bewildered, Sirius's questions were odd, and he had no idea where he was going with them but answered all the same.

"I think they created the Ministry of Magic or were involved at least."

"That is but one of their accomplishments over centuries." Sirius said shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Professor Binns has a lot to answer for; this should be taught in History of Magic at Hogwarts! I never realised what was being forgotten, but I suppose we should start with the basics."

Sirius sat for a moment to collect his thoughts again before he began.

"The Noble and Most Ancient Houses are as the name implies very old magical families." He told Harry simply, "Their bloodlines reach back all the way to the original magical practitioners of the British Isles. They each have long and unique histories but the most defining moment in their history came from the Pendragon Dynasty and Camelot. I assume you know that story at least?"

"Of course," Harry stated defensively, he had read a bit about it in first year having got distracted by history when he had been looking for any reference to Nicolas Flamel.

"That is good, but I will give you a bit more context for the purpose of our topic. Eleven hundred years ago Camelot was the seat of Uther Pendragon. The king led a twenty-six-year war on magic that is referred to as the Great Purge, it was devastating to both muggle and magical people alike. Eventually Uther was succeeded by his son Arthur who was aided during his reign by none other than Merlin himself."

Harry nodded as Sirius looked at him expectantly to ensure he was following so far, and he wondered if he should be making notes like he would at Hogwarts. Although it was odd to think of Sirius taking on the role of teacher or professor.

"Arthur was a muggle – although some argue he was a squib, but I digress – and he was king of both the muggle and magical communities and ended the Great Purge. The King needed to find a way to govern and control magic users but how could he when they had power he did not?"

It was Harry thought a good question, he couldn't imagine wizarding families such as the Malfoys following a muggle man with or without a crown.

"Merlin counselled Arthur to summon a select number of the most powerful and influential leaders of the various magical communities from across the entire British Isles to Camelot under the banner of peace and make an accord. Arthur made those leaders Lords of their Lands and empowered them to govern the magical communities in the king's name, and this act brought about a new era for these Isles, and it finally began to heal from the purge."

"But the reign of Arthur didn't last did it?" Harry said darkly, "The dark rose up against him."

"Indeed." Sirius acknowledged, "Arthur had a half-sister, Morgana Pendragon. Now she was a witch who had been taught by priestesses of the Old Ways and succumbed to the thrall of dark magic and became the infamous Morgan Le Fey. War erupted and tore apart everything Arthur and Merlin had built and ended the Pendragon Dynasty and the unity of the muggle and magical communities."

"Merlin returned to Camelot after failing to cure Queen Guinevere and forced everyone to leave, he placed a powerful enchantment over the citadel to hide it from muggles and wizards and began his long seclusion from the world. A century later each of the magical noble Houses received a summons to the old citadel and it was there they found Merlin at the roundtable, and he told them of his visions of the future."

"Merlin charged the Lords: To protect, defend and govern those who practice magic. To uphold the laws of the realm. To maintain the peace between both muggles and wizards." Sirius paused only to wet his throat as he continued his history lesson. "The Lords swore a magical vow to uphold that charge, which was bound to their bloodlines in perpetuity, in return Merlin gifted each House with a gift of his own creation that enabled the Lords to finally control an ancient magic they had long used and held in secret."

Harry absorbed the history of magical Britain and couldn't help thinking back to the fictional figures of folklore or myth he had learnt as a child at muggle primary school, it was odd to think that Merlin, Arthur, and the round table of Camelot were all real.

"How can history from so long ago relate to us now Sirius?" Harry asked, "This happened before Hogwarts was even built."

Sirius laughed, "funny that you mention Hogwarts, Merlin was ancient by the time it was built but was intrigued by what the Founders had built and sought to see it for himself. He was even sorted in Slytherin according to first-hand accounts from the time."

"Merlin was a Slytherin?!" Harry spluttered and Sirius snorted in amusement.

"Now, you asked how this relates to us now." He continued, "well those Houses have long endured the passage of time and through the centuries they have evolved and became known as the Noble and Most Ancient Houses with its Lords and Ladies upholding the ancient vow made by their ancestors."

"There are twenty-four families, although four of them have died out in the direct male lines but the bloodlines might still be restored should a new line emerge and pass the test to claim the mantle of their forebearers. The Ancient Houses or Houses – as they are more commonly called these days – created the Wizards Council, the Ministry of Magic and even the Wizengamot."

Harry sat thinking on everything Sirius had just told him. In the last twenty minutes, he had learnt a critical point in British magical history and now, more than ever, realised how useless Binns was. "I never knew how much Merlin did for our community."

"He was one of the most influential people in our history. Across the world, people have heard of him, his teachings, and accomplishments. The Order of Merlin was created by the Ancient Houses to award those who showed the qualities that Merlin encouraged," Sirius agreed before resuming his lesson. "You will know some members of the Noble and Most Ancient Houses. Your friend Neville, for example, is the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom. The Black Family is also a Noble and Most Ancient House."

Harry was shocked, he had known the Blacks and Longbottoms were old, but never realised just how old or what influence they had.

"So, does that mean that you have a seat on the Wizengamot?" He asked thinking back over what Sirius had said.

"I technically have two seats," Sirius said, "But I have not claimed the seat and cannot since I am a wanted man and cannot step into the Ministry without being kissed by a dementor. I imagine you will be surprised to learn that the Potters are also one of the Noble and Most Ancient Houses."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Why have I never been told?" He couldn't believe that his family was one of these Ancient Houses. He knew that the Potter family was old, but he had no idea it was as old as the Blacks and Longbottoms.

"James only took his seat once to announce he had claimed his title and appoint a proxy to the Wizengamot, he did not care much for the position as he was more focused on the war against Voldemort and protecting his family." Sirius said and a haunted look crossed his face, "I would guess that most assumed you knew of your position but likewise did not care for it. However the basic history should have been taught to you as part of the History of Magic curriculum, wizarding history isn't all about goblins, European concerns, witch-hunts or even the ICW and International Statute of secrecy."

"So what's happened to my family seat?" Harry asked somewhat bewildered.

"It's been dormant." Sirius explained, "as your guardian I am in theory Lord Regent of House Potter and could claim your seat and hold your vote as proxy. Now I know a fair amount about your family history, I learnt some of the basics as a Black, but your grandfather taught me more when he took me under his wing and gave me sanctuary when I ran away from this house so many years ago."

Harry was about to interrupt, but Sirius stopped him.

"That is a story for another day, but for now, it's not important," Sirius told him smoothly "Tonight is about you not me."

"So has my family's name always been Potter?" Harry asked. It had always struck him to be a younger family name especially compared to some wizarding names.

"No, the name dates back to the twelfth century and came from a nickname apparently." Sirius informed him thinking about the question. "The Potters were not an Ancient House in their own right, although James explained that they were of an ancient bloodline themselves of nomadic origins. The Potters became a Noble and Most Ancient House in the thirteenth century through the union of Hardwin Potter and Iolanthe Peverell."

"Iolanthe's brother died of dragon pox, and he had been the last male heir, so when her father died the title of Noble and Most Ancient House passed through Iolanthe to the Potters. The Peverell name was lost as Iolanthe was already married and had a child and so the bloodline and House have endured," Sirius explained thoughtfully, "Its not the first name change in the history of the Ancient Houses either."

Harry nodded eagerly absorbing every word Sirius spoke like a sponge would water.

"Now the purpose of this impromptu lesson in your family history is because there are a number of laws regarding the Ancient Houses that have a direct impact on you. These laws are archaic and are seldom enacted officially but they do form the basis of some of our oldest traditions. One of these laws states that when a scion reaches the age of fifteen they can rise to Head of House."

Harry sat there for a moment not really understanding what it all meant. "Scion? Head of House? Sirius what does this actually mean?"

"They are very old-fashioned terms." Sirius explained patiently, "A scion is the last of the bloodline of a powerful family. As the Head of House Potter you would be given control over your finances, estate, people, and house affairs. At sixteen you would be exempt from underage magic, and on reaching your majority at seventeen you would become a Lord and can take your seat on the Wizengamot."

"I admit my knowledge of the Ancient Testimonies – which is the name for the old laws governing the Ancient Houses – is rusty to say the least. Remus has been studying them for me and translating them into something helpful. He has however found the most intriguing loophole."

"As a scion you cannot claim your seat on the Wizengamot in your own name until you are seventeen, until that time your seat is held in proxy by the Lord Regent of House Potter." Sirius explained carefully, "As Lord Regent I have the right to appoint a proxy of my own, like any other Lord or Lady. However those archaic laws set no age restriction for a proxy. Do you understand what this means?"

Harry frowned and worked through what Sirius said, then blinked, wondering if he understood what Sirius was telling him. "Are you seriously saying I cannot vote in my own name, but I could be appointed as a proxy and then utilise that vote?"

Sirius nodded and smiled evilly. "Exactly! Its so simple, and it's never been done so there is no precedent, but it does follow the letter of the law. No one would expect it! The Wizengamot might have enacted newer laws and restrictions on its seats and votes, but they do not govern the Ancient Seats. To change the Ancient Testimonies requires a vote of all twenty-four families, but since four are extinct in the direct lines that is not possible, and the laws are magically binding and unbreakable."

Harry had begun to feel overwhelmed by all of this information now, "does this have anything to do with my hearing?" He asked quietly, the looming threat of it suddenly feeling very ominous.

"It has everything to do with your hearing." Sirius said firmly, "your hearing should be held within the DMLE, but I think Fudge will use this hearing as an opportunity to further discredit you and will pull you in front of the Wizengamot. It would serve his goals well for him to humiliate you in front of the full court. We have to ensure that you are prepared to beat him at his own game, a game you were literally born to play."

The political games was not something Harry was overly familiar with, but it was something he had heard of at Hogwarts at least. It was a game the upper classes, purebloods or more accurately most Slytherins played. Could he play the game? Sirius seemed to think so, but Harry wasn't sure he could learn the game and rules in time.

He stifled a yawn feeling totally worn out now from everything that had happened that day.

"I think I've given you enough for tonight," Sirius said, noticing his yawn. "I'll show you to your room now. I know that you may want to see Hermione and Ron, as they are only two floors below, but please wait at least until tomorrow. I am trying to keep you out of sight from everyone for now, okay?"

Harry nodded, thinking it kind of amusing to think that he was now keeping things from them after a month of them doing it to him. "It's fine, Sirius."

Sirius smiled at him. "Now, I think it's time you were in bed." He led him to the door opposite to his, which had a name plate that read:

Do not enter

Without the express permission of

Regulus Arcturus Black

The room was slightly smaller than Sirius', but the décor was the same. This room was decorated with silver wallpaper and had a thick cream carpet, and the bed was made with a reddish-brown spread that looked inviting. On the headboard was a crest he didn't recognise and at the foot of the bed was the same crest.

"What do you think?" Sirius asked with interest.

"It's great!" Harry said looking around. "Why isn't the rest of the house like this?"

"Because this is the only room in the house that Kreacher, the family elf, has kept clean. This was my younger brother's room." Sirius was lost in thought for a moment. "Regi would never place any charms in his room because it made it easier for him locate any that I had placed. We were close when we were growing up and I was extremely protective of him, but unfortunately my mother got to him eventually."

A dark look crossed Sirius's face as he mentioned his mother and Harry not for the first time that night realised how much he didn't know about his godfather.

"We have a busy day ahead, so I'll come and wake you at six am. There's a bathroom next door on the left and if you need anything, just call for Kreacher. I warned him of your arrival, and he will obey your orders. Just be careful with him. He's a twisted horror of an elf, but he can't hurt you or refuse a direct order," he said. "I have to go now, Harry. A useless meeting of the Order will likely happen soon, probably to discuss you. I will see you in the morning." And with that, he left the room and pulled the door shut behind him.

Harry was about to get ready for bed when he realised that he didn't have his pyjamas. He was about to get them but realised he had no idea where his trunk was and was supposed to remain hidden. "Kreacher?" He called hesitantly not sure how the elf would hear him but not a moment later there was a small pop as Kreacher apparated in his room.

The elf looked incredibly old, and his skin seemed to be several times too big for him. Though he was bald like all House Elves, he had dirty hair growing from his large, bat like ears. He looked at Harry with large, watery, bloodshot eyes. With a look of contempt, Kreacher bowed, his snout like nose touching the floor. Harry noted that he was rather dirty, which was odd for an elf as they were usually clean beings. The dishcloth that he had used to form a loincloth looked even worse.

"Young Master calls Kreacher," he croaked, then added in an undertone, "master's brat is in Master Regulus' room moving Master Regulus' things."

Harry frowned, remembering how Dobby and Winky acted when you spoke of their family, and tried to placate the elf. "Kreacher, I mean no disrespect to Master Regulus. I mean to honour him and the House in which he was born."

Kreacher looked at him with an odd frown. "Young Master is wishing to honour Master Regulus?" He gazed intently at him, then said, "Kreacher could be telling Young Master of Master Regulus, but Young Master be calling Kreacher to do something?"

Harry smiled at the elf. He could tell that he was devoted to Sirius' brother, and he wondered why Kreacher seemed to dislike Sirius. "I would like to learn about him, since I was not aware that Sirius had a brother, and Sirius seemed upset over the memory of him. But you are right, I did have a question," Harry said. He did not like ordering elves around but asking for the help seemed a good compromise. "Would you be able to get my trunk and owl cage from wherever Sirius sent it before we arrived?"

"Kreacher is able, Young Master. Is that all Young Master wants?" He asked with a bow.

"Would you be able to do it without anyone seeing or hearing you?" Harry asked hopefully. "I don't want anyone to know of my presence in this house."

"Kreacher is able to do as Young Master asks. Kreacher will be back in a moment," he said, then added a slight fleeting bow and, with a crack, he was gone. A minute later, he was back with everything Harry had asked for. "Will Young Master require anything else?"

"No, that will be all. Thank you very much, Kreacher," Harry said, opening his trunk to get some bedclothes. "Please do not let me keep you from going to bed if you have finished your duties for the night."

The elf bowed low and muttered, "Young Master is asking if Kreacher has finished his duties and if he should sleep. Kreacher has not done this! Kreacher is bad elf, and Mistress would not like Kreacher to be so." He then left with a crack, but not before Harry had seen the look of despair on the elf's face.

Harry got into bed, making another mental note to speak to Sirius about his family and to discuss Kreacher.

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Edited: March 2024

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