Chapter 6: Old Haunts
Harry awoke to a sound from downstairs. It was very dark in his room and a sleepy glance at his bed-side clock revealed the time to be a quarter to four in the morning. He was alert immediately. None of the Dursleys would be up at this hour and there was no reasonable explanation for sounds from downstairs. He quickly dressed, grabbed his wand, and crept from his bedroom into the hall.
Light from the full moon poured in from the windows and Harry found he could see quite clearly. He hunched over and made his way silently to the top of the stairs before he heard a familiar, feminine voice cursing violent oaths from below.
Harry stood up to his full height and lowered his wand. At the base of the stairs, Nymphadora Tonks appeared to be wrestling with the Dursleys' coat stand. He watched her curiously for a moment before she seemed to free herself and stepped back, banging into the wall behind her.
"Bloody, buggery, effing-eff-eff!" she swore before looking up and catching sight of Harry. "Wotcher, Harry! Sorry about the language."
"What language? 'Effing-eff-eff'?"
Tonks smirked and jerked her thumb back at a wizard who was standing in the shadows behind her. Harry hadn't noticed him before, still as he was, but he now recognised the tall form of Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Got to watch myself around this one," Tonks joked.
Kingsley greeted him with a nod just as he had done the night of the fiasco with Mundungus. Harry returned it with some confusion and walked down the stairs to join them. "What are you two doing here?" he asked. "It's three in the morning... did something happen?"
"Come to take you to Grimmauld, of course!" Tonks answered cheerfully. "You're looking tall! Get hit with a stretching jinx, did you?"
"No," Harry said dumbly and she grinned at the odd look on his face.
With a shake of her head, her hair changed from the neon blue it had previously been into a pure, inky black that matched his shade exactly. Then it began to lengthen from its short, spiky style until the fringe of it was just falling over her eyes, which had morphed to a shocking green. Harry blinked at her and she laughed before changing back.
"Sorry, Harry - couldn't help myself," she said jauntily.
A light switched on upstairs and Harry could hear the Dursleys beginning to move around. They had obviously heard something and were getting ready to make a snit.
Kingsley swept past him and disappeared up the stairs and the light promptly went out. Harry felt relieved - he had no desire to deal with his aunt again. He hadn't spoken to her since their confrontation earlier and he hoped to avoid her until he left.
"Let's get your stuff together," Tonks said and followed him upstairs to his room.
"Why are you here so early?" Harry asked as he began to quickly arrange his linens and pillow into some semblance of neatness.
"Dumbledore's orders," she replied swiftly, looking around his room. "He wants us to fly while it's still dark."
Harry stood up and faced her. "Fly? I haven't a broom anymore. Umbridge," he spat the name as if it were a curse, "confiscated mine last year and I haven't seen it since."
"No problem! Got your stick right here!" Tonks announced and stuck her hand into the front pocket of her battered Auror's robes. She pulled out what was clearly a tiny broomstick and pointed her wand at it. "Engorgio!"
The broom rapidly enlarged until it was back to its normal size and Harry felt a thrill go through him at seeing his Firebolt again. It had been a present from Sirius, and it meant more to him now than perhaps it ever had. He took it from her carefully and ran his fingers over the polished wood handle.
"Thank you," he breathed. "I- well, I really thought I had seen the last of it. Sirius gave it to me, and I… I'm glad to have it back."
She had a sort of far-away look on her face, but she nodded to show she understood. "Listen - it's been a bit of a rotten time of it for you, I know. Hasn't been much better for us Aurors, either. Lots of plonkers keep sending in reports that they've just seen You-Know-Who in the women's loo at Hickum and Twisp's. It's a nightmare, really!" she declared. "But it's better now that everyone knows he's back, even if people think he's taken to haunting toilets."
"Do you like being an Auror?" Harry asked suddenly. "I've thought that I might want to be one… after I graduate."
"Yeah! It's a lot of revising to make the scores to get in-," she began and Harry must have made a face because she sent him a commiserating look, "yeah, less than fun, I know - but it's a rugged job! Hey, maybe I'll be your boss someday, Harry? Order you around a bit? That'd be a laugh!"
Harry smiled at her and began collecting his books. Tonks waved him aside and cast the same packing spell that she had done last year. All of his things promptly seated themselves in his trunk. It wasn't neat - he knew he would probably have to repack it before he went to Hogwarts - but it was certainly efficient and Harry looked on with interest. Once everything was inside, she shut the clasp of the trunk, gave a flick of her wand and said, "Deminuo!"
Instantly, the trunk shrunk down until it could easily fit in the palm of Harry's hand. He tucked it into his pocket and made a mental note to remember that particular incantation.
Once Hedwig was set free and her cage was shrunk and settled in his pocket, Harry tugged on his trainers and looked at Tonks expectantly.
"Ready to go?" she asked as she surveyed the room one final time to be sure they hadn't missed anything
He nodded and together they made their way downstairs and out onto the lawn where Kingsley was waiting patiently. He held two broomsticks, one of which he handed to Tonks.
Harry looked around the empty street and wondered whether there were other wizards nearby, watching them. "Are we waiting for some sort of signal?"
Tonks made a scoffing noise and shook her head. "Nah, Moody isn't here, this time. No fancy signal-sparks, no doubling back - thank Merlin for it, too. I nearly froze solid last time. My arse was pink for days!"
She mounted her broom and promptly kicked off into the air.
Kingsley stepped in front of Harry and offered him an enigmatic smile before instructing him to hold still and tapping him on the top of his head with his wand. Harry immediately felt the familiar cold, dripping sensation of a disillusionment charm being placed on him and watched in fascination as his skin and clothes began to mimic the colours and textures of the street around him.
"Nice one, Kingsley!" Tonks complimented from where she was hovering above them. "I nearly forgot!"
Kingsley nodded once more at Harry before mounting his own broom and rising smoothly beside her.
Harry's Firebolt seemed to hum in his hand and he took one last look at the Dursleys' house before he too was in the air, and soon the three figures were mere specks on the horizon and Privet Drive was quiet once more.
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Harry grinned and leaned forward on his broom handle, hurtling across the sky above London. They had been flying for close to an hour now and were making much better time than their previous trip.
Looking down, he could see the twinkling whites and yellows of the city lights spread out like a vast spider's web beneath him. The air was clear tonight, and with no clouds to spoil it, Harry savoured a view he knew few would ever see.
He cocked his head and glanced back at Tonks and Kingsley to see they were struggling to keep up. With a quick tug on the handle, Harry manoeuvred his broom in a sharp, twisting loop that brought him neatly behind his escorts.
Tonks looked back to grin at him and pointed to a spot on the ground far below. "That's the place! Get ready to descend!" she shouted over the rush of the wind. "And don't faff about - we don't want any muggles to see!"
Harry shifted his weight and, for a brief moment, all he could see was the moon and stars above him before he flipped backward and began a sharp dive. The air seemed to part around him as he plunged towards the ground. As the pavement rushed up to meet him, Harry braced his feet on their pegs and pulled hard on the very tip of his broom. With not a foot to spare, he leveled out and shot forward along the empty street before coming to a languid stop just in front of Number 11 Grimmauld Place.
Feeling exhilarated from the flight, Harry stepped off his broom and slung it over his shoulder. His hands were numb from the biting wind of the dive. Harry clenched them into fists and watched impassively as the dour façade of Number 12 appeared in front of him, pushing apart the two rotting houses to either side of it.
The old stone steps, the silver doorknocker… it was all exactly as he remembered. But the house's master was dead, and Harry knew the 'Most Ancient and Noble House of Black' was now nothing more than words and history.
The ill feeling from earlier made itself at home again somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach.
"Bugger me, Harry! Where'd you learn to fly like that?" Tonks asked as she landed beside him. "Thought you were trying to off yourself for a minute there!"
Kingsley landed silently on Harry's other side and his wand was in his hand before he had even stepped off his broom. He seemed to peer up and down the street as if checking if there were any Death Eaters lurking around before he straightened up and cancelled Harry's disillusionment charm.
Through their windows, Harry could see muggles moving around inside their houses, and without the charm, he knew they could see him, too, if they cared to look.
"Should we go in, then?" Harry asked. He congratulated himself mentally on how even and undisturbed his voice had sounded. He wanted desperately not to make a fool of himself here. He couldn't deal with anyone's pity. "Best do - it's pretty bright out here. I think the sun's coming up soon."
Tonks gave him a queer look before she tucked her broom under her arm and nodded. "Right. Let's go."
Harry followed her silently up the stone steps and onto the porch with Kingsley trailing behind them. She stopped in front of the black-painted door and nodded her head towards it. "Well, give it a tap, then."
Harry looked at her in confusion. "What?"
"The door, Harry. Give it a tap with your wand," she instructed, rearranging her broom in her arms. "Remus is inside - he can still get in just fine, it turns out - but Dumbledore thinks you might be able to open it, too. Thought it best if you give it a try."
Harry felt something inside of him squirm and the ill feeling intensified. Had Sirius keyed him into the wards?
Summoning his reserve, Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and jabbed it at the silver, serpent-faced doorknocker a bit harder than necessary. Sure enough, several loud, metallic clicks sounded behind the door and it swung open with an agonizing creak.
A cold, rush of air swept past them, and, if anything, the house seemed even less welcoming now than it had when the door was closed.
"Guess it worked," Tonks mumbled. She fidgeted with her broom again and it suddenly occurred to Harry that she probably didn't want to be there any more than he did. Sirius had been her cousin. They may not have known each other well, but Harry could not honestly say he had known Sirius well, either - and he knew better than most that blood could be a powerful tie.
At that moment, he felt like he wanted to say something to her - to apologise, maybe - but the only thing that he could get past his lips was a subdued, "All right there?"
She looked startled for a moment, before quirking a half-hearted smirk. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? Come on - let's get inside."
The three of them stepped over the threshold and the sweet, damp smell of rotting wood immediately assaulted them. As they walked through the narrow hall, the gas lamps that hung from their sconces sputtered to life and sent shadows dancing across the walls.
Besides their footsteps - which sounded strange and muted on the timeworn carpet - the house was silent.
They stopped in the kitchen, which, as far as Harry could tell in the dim light, was a bit warmer and cleaner than the entry hall. He would even go as far as to say that it looked moderately lived in. Tonks stepped up behind him and stuck out her hand.
"Give your things here," she said. "I'll put 'em back to the right size."
Harry fished out his trunk and Hedwig's cage from his pocket and dutifully handed them over. Tonks set them on the floor and restored them to their proper size before returning her wand to her robe pocket. She swept a cobweb off her shoulder and gave a significant look towards the closed door in the corner of the kitchen. It was reinforced with a heavy, wooden slat - clearly a new addition.
"Remus is down in the basement," she announced, nodding at the door. "That time of month, you know, so steer clear. If I were you, I'd head upstairs and have a kip. Nothing else to do here at the moment."
"Harry," Kingsley addressed. "We will leave you here now. Nymphadora and I-" Tonks made a strangled noise in the back of her throat at the use of her given name, "-must return to the Ministry. We are due to begin our work very soon. Dumbledore has asked me to tell you that you must remain within this house. He will provide you with more information soon."
"You're going?" Harry asked sharply. "Is there anyone else here besides Remus?"
Tonks gave him a sympathetic look. "Afraid not, Harry. I don't blame you for wanting company, either. This place gives me the creeps. Cor, I almost forgot! You have to remember to open that door for Remus after the sun rises. He can't get out otherwise. He'll have you shut him in again once it gets close to sunset. We'll see you soon!"
She gave him a jaunty salute with her wand before she and Kingsley disappeared back into the hallway and out of the house.
Harry stood quietly in the empty kitchen as he listened to them go. He could not help but feel abandoned and melancholy. Angry at himself for letting the situation get to him, Harry crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall behind him. He idly wondered how he would possibly make it through the rest of the summer here without going mad.
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The sun's rising at Number 12 Grimmauld Place was not easily noticed. None of the windows in the decrepit house faced east and the light that managed to trickle through them was muted and discoloured from the decades of grime and dirt.
In the dim light, Harry felt like a burglar.
He had spent the first hour after he had arrived quietly stalking up and down stairs, opening and closing doors, and leaving his fingerprints on the dusty furniture. The feeling of being somewhere he didn't belong - of intrusion - had settled coldly inside of him. It reminded him keenly of looking out from his cupboard at a home and a family that he knew he did not belong to.
Worst of all, Sirius was everywhere. He was leaning back in his chair in the dining room… he was peeling off sheets of rotting wallpaper in the foyer… he was drawing pale fingers across ancient tapestries. Harry did his best to ignore these flashes of memory, but they were always there, waiting on the edges of his mind.
Harry made his way back to the kitchen. His trunk and Hedwig's cage were still on the floor near the table and he decided he ought to put them away before opening the basement door for Remus.
He gripped the handle of his trunk and hauled it up onto his back, leaning forward to help support the weight, and began the arduous trek up to the second floor landing. He was careful to be as quiet as possible when he passed the covered portrait of Mrs. Black, but beneath her curtains, he could hear her muttering, "Creepers creeping inside my house, creepers are creeping where they ought not be…"
When he reached the door to the bedroom Ron and he had shared last summer, he paused and adjusted his grip on the trunk handle. Mrs. Black's grumbling had reminded him that another portrait hung on the wall just inside this door, this one of the old Hogwarts headmaster, Phineas Nigellus. Harry hesitated before moving on. He made his way up one more floor where he found several old bedrooms with their doors swung wide. After checking each for unwanted portraits, he settled on one and set his trunk down inside.
Every step Harry took left a dark footprint on the dusty, wood floor. It was clear that no one had been in here for ages. The walls were decorated in faded green wallpaper printed with drawings of great beasts and the bed was made with a matching duvet. The bed itself was of a rich, dark wood and there was a canopy over it, but the curtains had been removed.
On the far side of the room, a wooden shutter covered a tall, thin window and Harry moved to open it. He found it jammed and tried a little more force, but instead of the shutter opening, the slat he had been gripping broke off in his hand, revealing a narrow shaft of light. Harry clenched his fist around the broken piece of wood. He peered at it guiltily for a moment before using it as a jimmy to prise the shutter. When it came free with a squealing creak, he forced open the window behind it with a hard rap from his knuckles. The room was immediately bathed in the pale, bluish light of very early morning.
The light altered the very character of the room and the oppressive, moody atmosphere seemed to dissipate. On a whim, Harry stuck his head out the window and breathed deeply before heading back downstairs to retrieve his broom and cage.
When he returned with them a short while later, his owl was waiting for him on the windowsill.
"Hedwig!" Harry called, immensely relieved to see her. He set down his things and went to stroke her feathers. "You made it."
After a few minutes of this attention, Harry attended to her food and water before returning downstairs reluctantly. It was past time to open the basement door.
He felt anxious about seeing Remus within the confines of Grimmauld Place, but he was smart enough to realise that Remus would likely be feeling the same way.
It took a bit of arm strength to lift the wooden slat from its brace, but Harry managed without much difficulty and set it aside. Standing at the door, he wondered whether he should knock or call out before going inside. Harry finally decided on doing both, but he received no response and began to feel uneasy. He knocked again, louder this time from using the bottom of his fist, but still there was no answer.
Harry began to feel genuinely concerned and he pulled open the door warily. Light from the kitchen spilt into the narrow stairwell in front of him, but even so, Harry could not see to the bottom through the darkness. He took his wand in his hand and was about to cast a Lumos spell before he remembered that he shouldn't. Instead, he stepped back out into the kitchen and grabbed one of the flickering oil lamps from its sconce on the wall.
Lamp in hand, Harry made his way down the stairs. They emptied into a narrow, cluttered room that seemed to run the length of the house. Old furniture, portraits, boxes, and bottles were scattered across the rotting floor and in the yellow light from the lamp, Harry could see that nearly everything was smashed beyond repair.
He took a step forward and something crunched loudly beneath his trainer. A quick glance down revealed that the floor was littered with the small, yellowed skeletons of rats.
"Harry?" a voice called out from further down and Harry held his lamp up to see.
"It's me, Professor," Harry replied. "Are you all right?"
Harry could hear footsteps approaching and soon Remus Lupin appeared at the edge of the lamplight. His face was badly scratched and his threadbare robes were partially shredded. He looked tired and very thin.
"Yes, of course. I'm so glad you made it here safely," Remus greeted. His gaze shifted towards the floor and the piles of small bones. "You didn't have to come down here, Harry… I didn't mean for you to see this."
"I know you're a werewolf, Professor," Harry stated bluntly. "It doesn't bother me."
Remus smiled and gripped Harry's shoulder in gratitude. "Well - I suppose we should head back upstairs. I could certainly do with some breakfast."
Harry's stomach rumbled in agreement. He had not eaten since the previous day.
They walked up the stairs together and Harry replaced the lamp in its sconce. Despite the time of day, the kitchen was still dreary and dark and the extra light was welcome.
Remus waved off Harry's attempts at help with the cooking and soon the two were sitting down to a meal of warm eggs and toast.
"Professor, I called down earlier but there wasn't a response," Harry asked in between bites. "Did you not hear me?"
"Into the basement, you mean?" Remus clarified. "There are silencing spells all over the room. I'm afraid I can kick up an awful racket when the change is on me."
Harry frowned at this. "But Professor - what if something happens? If you hurt yourself or something goes wrong? How would I know to come downstairs and help?"
A very serious expression settled on Remus's face. "Harry, you must never go into the basement during a full moon. Not under any circumstances. I'm perfectly safe down there."
Harry rolled his shoulder in a non-response and went back to eating his eggs.
When they were finished, Harry made short work of the dishes and, in silent agreement, the two moved into the drawing room. The Black Family tapestry seemed to draw Harry's eyes against his will and he stared at it solemnly.
"I know it pains you to be here, Harry," Remus began gently. "But, I must confess, I was very much looking forward to your company. And Sirius… before he… well-"
"Before he was killed," Harry supplied dully. The low sound of his own voice seemed to startle him and he pulled his gaze away from the tapestry.
Remus, too, seemed slightly startled, but he nodded and continued as if Harry hadn't spoken. "Before he died, he talked with me often. He had so many plans for you and this house. He wanted to tear the whole thing down and start from scratch, you see. He had hoped you might help him. And when the home was finished, he had planned on bequeathing it to you. Harry, in his will, Sirius left you-"
"Don't!" Harry interrupted fiercely. "Please don't. I don't want this house. I couldn't stand it if he gave it to me."
Remus tried to place a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, but Harry shook him off and stood up. He paced the room and Remus watched him sadly. "Harry, he wanted you to have it. What happened wasn't your fault."
Harry stopped pacing and stood quietly in front of the tapestry. He seemed to take a moment to collect himself before he spoke again. "What was he like?"
Remus looked surprised by this question. "Sirius? You knew him, Harry. I think you knew him well."
"I'm not so sure," Harry murmured. "I feel like I wasted so much time talking to him about useless things instead of asking him important questions or thoughtful questions. And now I feel like I hardly knew him at all."
Remus stood up and this time there was no resistance when he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, you knew the important things. You knew his character. You knew his passion and the depth of his caring. You knew his loyalty to his friends and his bravery in the face of his enemies. Those are the things that made Sirius the person he was."
Harry felt like something might break inside of him and he could not bear to stay in that room another minute. He gave an awkward, stilted excuse about needing to unpack before he turned and disappeared up the stairs.