A few ideas that need to be shared before you read this chapter. As we return to Grimmauld Place in this story I, ironically I suppose, chose to lift text directly from DH in order to remain true to Rowling's descriptions. This is of course ironic, because at the beginning of writing this story I expressly said that DH, was not to be included as canon for this story, the point of divergence being the end of HBP. I want to fully acknowledge that I used some of Rowling's words here. Some are re-worked and woven in to my story for effect, others are included in whole, as they appeared in DH. This occurs most particularly during the scenes where our group explores the bedrooms of Regulus and Sirius Black. Many of you will no doubt recognize which words are Rowling's and what DH facts are woven in to this story. Case in point; In the scene, I kept the letter from Harry's mother that was present in Sirius' room in DH. However, I split up how it and the accompanying photo was found as I have more than Harry present in the scene. Also, in DH Rowling mentions that Sirius used a Permanent Sticking Charm to keep his parents from taking his posters and such from his walls. This is a fact that I have omitted from my story simply by never mentioning it in any of what I lifted. Consequently, Harry is able to simply remove a photo from Sirius' wall in my story. As an author, I enjoy these nods to the root material and believe that it helps the story feel authentic, even when it is divergent.
Also: As always I wish to thank Arnel, and Seeker'sDestiny, for their wonderful beta work and astonishingly quick turn around!
An FYI: FOr anyone who is curious I have posted my floor plan for Grimmauld Place on the Facebook page for this story. there is also a post of the Potter family tree used for this story, which can be found there. The page is named using the title of this story.
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Harry Potter and the Heart of the Hero | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Oliver Wood, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape Genres: General Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations, Violence Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 206 Summary: Dumbledore is gone, or is he? Harry feels the weight of the world rests on his shoulders, but he is soon to learn that his brooding nature and desire to face his fate alone may be his greatest weakness. It is his emotions, or rather his capacity for emotion that makes him strong, and his relationships his greatest source of strength. When the summer begins and he faces a fortnight with the Dursleys everything he knows, or rather thinks he knows comes into question. Can he... should he do this all alone? And is he anywhere near ready? Hogwarts is to be re-opened, the Ministry officially endorsing it as the safest possible place to be. As his birthday approaches there are monumental surprises in store for Harry. Who is he really? And what about his family, who came before his mother and father? Why is the Potter name so famous, and yet so unknown? Encouraged not to run off to face his fate he returns to Hogwarts for his final year, but surprises abound at the school as well. Can Harry become the wizard he needs to be to face the Dark Lord? Will he let the people he respects and love really help him? And what of help from unexpected sources; sources he might never trust? Hitcount: Story Total: 118364; Chapter Total: 3163 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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A Grim Old Place And, finally. To news of Harry Potter. Severus Snape, read the report slowly and deliberately, knowing that the proper delivery would increase Voldemort's irritation with the information coming to him from his operatives in England. To Snape, the bad news about England was simple. The continued presence of Harry Potter, along with tall tales of the boy and his adventures, had become a part of the culture of Wizarding England. The effect was simply that the idea of Voldemort, was no longer so frightening. While it would take longer for things like the self-imposed prohibition of speaking his name to lose their cultural power. The fear of him was waning and this for a creature dependent on channeling the fear of his inferiors, was decidedly not good news. Snape continued to read. The boy has remained in seclusion through out the summer. He has left the safety of the Burrow only a few times. He has been spotted in Diagon Alley on more than one occasion, each time heavily guarded. There have been numerous reports of him being sighted in all parts of the United Kingdom, but most of these claims appear to be baseless. Attempts to draw him out on his birthday were unsuccessful. Security at the Weasley's son's wedding was too thorough for infiltration. All known members of the boy's Muggle family have been eliminated. "Enough," Voldemort demanded, causing Severus to smile inwardly. "It is time I think, to remind the people of Britain that I will be their Lord and Master soon enough," he paused, pacing back and forth before a huge fireplace. Nagini slithered about his feet, a delicate dance of twisting snake and the Master's precise footfalls. "The boy is of no real concern to me, there will be a time and a place of my choosing, but his presence emboldens the populace. And, the people must be reminded to fear me." "Of course, My Lord," Snape encouraged with a bow of his head. "You must find me a statement, Severus," Voldemort's, eyes blazed. "Something that will tell the people that I can reach them even from across the channel, all of them, Muggles and Wizards alike." "Yes, Lord," Snape replied. The weekend had been relatively quiet. Harry had spent his time in his study with the portraits of his parents and grandparents. The rest of them had been invited in for introductions, and had been able to come and go from the conversation. But mostly is was just Harry, the Dumbledore card, and more often than anyone else, Ginny, sitting and visiting with the portraits. Hermione and Ron had ventured out to help Fred and George with the shop while Luna spent most of her time in the Library with the Fairies. They had returned from the treasury with the Book of Merlin and what rightfully had to be called the Book of Potter. Presently the two tomes were wrapped in thick cocoons of fairy silk on a central table in the Library. The Fairies attended them regularly, but did not seem overly concerned with their progress. The cocoons seemed to be very quickly thickening into a sort of chrysalis. Alex Burgestikoff had returned to the Manor late Sunday evening and announced that she had been offered a job and would be leaving the manor as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Lupin returned from their honeymoon. Hermione had asked a number of questions to try to get her to reveal the nature of the job she had been offered, but Alex was adamant that she was not at liberty to say. Harry felt confident that he knew where she would be going, but he remained silent. Monday morning they resumed practice sessions with Alex. The hay bale targets had been set up again and they concentrated on target accuracy. Harry was now consistently hitting the bales regardless of the direction his wand was pointed. The others were having a harder time of it. Ron and Ginny, who both seemed to place faith in Harry's example were doing much better, but showed a distinct tendency to want to aim. And, poor Hermione, just couldn't seem to believe that spells could be so directed by intent that aim was almost immaterial. She was stuck in all that she had learned from books about specific wand movements and verbal intonations. Despite the evidence in front of her she clung to what she felt she already knew. Harry, and the others could see that it was taking a toll on her, she had gone from the best of them at spell casting, to apparently, the least accomplished. To Harry's pleasure, Alex had taken it as a challenge and was adjusting her approach with Hermione, and giving her more attention. The biggest surprise had been Luna. Alex had explained the principle of intent to her once and realization shown in her bright eyes. From that moment on she had not uttered a word, nor missed a target. Though her effects were less powerful than the others, she seemed to have mastered the idea completely. "Okay," Alex said, "wands down." They all lowered their wands immediately. Alex stepped out toward the targets a few paces and conjured a series of figure eight shaped tracks. Each of the bales suddenly grew wheeled carts beneath them and began to lumber slowly along the tracks turning on swivel bases so they always faced front. "Now ve vill apply vhat you have learned to moving targets." She stepped back to the established ready line. "Wands up," she paused as they all raised their wands and prepared their stance. "And, cast!" Luna was first to fire and her bale blew apart completely. Harry was behind her by a split second and his bale too, cart and a bit of track included, exploded spectacularly. Ron and Ginny were a moment behind him each hitting their targets, but only partially. Hermione's spell, cast last, flew past her target entirely, sailed the length of the extensive lawn and impacted a tree at the edge of the woods beyond. Bits of bark flew in all directions and a bare spot showed on the tree's trunk. "Wands down," Alex commanded. Dobby trotted out from the hedgerow and restored the targets. "Vhen you face an opponent they vill not stand still for you to hit them. Nor vill you stand still for them to hit you, you must be able to master your concentration," she said. She reached into her robe pocket and pulled out five battered looking wands. With a flick of her free wrist the wands flew from her hand and embedded themselves in the centers of the targets. "Now your targets vill fire back. Each vand vill repeatedly fire a mild stinging curse limited to its own practice lane. I say mild, but if it hits you, you vill feel it," she smiled mischievously. "Each time your target is hit and restored, it will move along its track vith greater speed, and also fire more quickly." The look on Hermione's face was complete trepidation. Ron too looked worried, though Harry could not decide if it was for himself or for Hermione as he tried to reassure her with a smile. Ginny grinned at Harry, looking altogether thrilled with the challenge. And Luna, well, she too smiled at Harry from her place at the end of the row opposite him, and while her stance appeared as casual as ever, her smile seemed to imply a challenge of its own to her cousin. Alex smiled, taking in the silent communications going on between them. "One last thing before ve begin the exercise," she said. She flicked her wand again and white chalk lines defined a box around each of them on the ground, allowing them only a few square meters of space. "If you step from your defined space, the exercise vill stop, for you," she paused again. "Now... Ready... Begin!" She waved her wand, as though she were waving a starting flag. Harry turned quickly to see a stream of yellow light headed right toward him. Instinctively, he raised a shield and the stinging spell dissipated against it harmlessly. Stepping to the side of the resultant glare he cast a Blasting Spell and his bale blew apart. He noted that Luna's bale too had blown apart. In the pause afforded him before his target was restored, he glanced down the row. Ginny had ducked and rolled as the stinger passed over her and dissipated at the back edge of her bounding box. She cast a Blasting Spell as she was getting back to her feet and the upper corner of her bale blew off, though it was not enough and a second stinger came toward her. Ron cast a Blasting Spell, but it went wild of the target and the stinger hit his shoulder. He swore loudly, but sent off a second blaster and this time caught the target clean center. Hermione seemed panicked for a moment and failed to raise any defense as the stinger hit her wand hand and crying in surprise she dropped it. In alarm she bent to the ground to retrieve it and a second stinger caught her in the backside. Harry felt for her, but as his target was now restored he was forced to turn his attention back to the exercise. As his target seemed to him to still be quite slow he deflected the stinger again with a shield and blasted the bale once more. This time, before he could turn to assess his friends his target was restored and moving more quickly. Planting his stance, he repeated his sequence of shield and blast, and again defeated the target. He noted only that Ginny's target too was blasted away before having to repeat the sequence once more. He could no longer afford to split his concentration as he defiantly remained in place repeatedly blocking and blasting his target, each time watching it restore and move more quickly along its track. Calm washed over him as he concentrated, repeatedly blasting his target into nothingness only to have it restored a moment later and attack him again. In contrast to Harry's calm planted stance, at the other end of the row, Luna seemed engaged in a free flowing, expressive dance, wasting no time with defensive shields, instead avoiding each stinger with a leap or a twist and repeatedly blasting away her target. Ron had taken a few more stingers defiantly and with sheer determination was now blasting more powerfully in his building anger. While this worked for him at first, as his target gained speed he was missing more often and began to use his own shield to keep from being stung. Ginny was fairing well with her almost gymnastic approach, dodging and firing, but five minutes into the exercise she was losing her breath and making mistakes. The first stinger to catch her got her in the ankle as she attempted to roll out of its way and she yelped in surprise at what felt a bit like a bee sting. She sent a blaster, only partially hitting her target, and as she rolled onto her feet her stung ankle was numb and she fell off balance twisting it painfully. As she yelped again, this time in actual distress, Alex moved to intervene, but before she could end Ginny's exercise another stinger headed her way. Hermione had lasted less than a minute in the exercise, getting off one errant spell and taking a third stinger before jumping out of her bounding box. She rationalized that watching the others would be, for her, more instructive than continuing. Alex said nothing, only nodded to her, which Hermione took as agreement with her own personal assessment. As Ginny cradled her ankle with distress she was aware of two things; that Alex was moving behind her, and that a bolt of yellow light was headed directly at her face. She wanted to shut her eyes, anticipating the painful stinger, but they only widened with fear. Then the stinger dissipated harmlessly against a powerful shield. As Alex grabbed her beneath the arms and pulled her from the bounding box she realized that the shield had been Harry's. She caught his eyes and winced for him as he took a stinger in the thigh for his effort, but he did not lose his concentration, and casting a powerful blaster obliterated his bale, cart and a major portion of track, affording him a moment’s recovery before the whole was restored and the practice continued at a furious pace. Hermione conjured a chair for Ginny and Alex quickly removed her shoe and sock, assessed her ankle and healed it on the spot. Ron lasted eight minutes into the exercise before he jumped out of his bounding box, swearing loudly and rubbing at the stings he was riddled with. Thankfully, the pain of the stings dissipated almost immediately upon ending the exercise. He smiled as he saw Hermione and his sister already finished and watching the others. On some level he had known when they were done, but his focus was too intense to really acknowledge it. He joined Hermione and took her hand in his, watching Harry and Luna as they continued on. At nearly twelve minutes into the exercise Luna was sweating from exertion and breathing heavily, but still avoiding the stingers and hitting her target. For his part, Harry still had not moved except for his wand arm which waved back and forth renewing his shield and casting blasting curses, he had found a distinct rhythm. Cast, cast, breath, as the target was renewed. The pace had become frantic, but clearly he had found the pattern and was not thinking, just doing. At fourteen minutes in, Luna took her first stinger and correspondingly missed the target for the first time. Consequently, there was no pause for target renewal and without the fraction of a second rest she took a second stinger. Exhausted, she jumped from her bounding box and bent immediately over, hands on her knees, to catch her breath. At fifteen minutes, Alex raised her wand and ended the exercise. Harry was in such deep concentration that the sudden stop startled him more than taking a stinger had. As Harry turned from his bounding box to join the others, Alex spoke; she was making eye contact with Hermione as she began. "I have seen grown men step back from this exercise almost immediately, so I vant you all to know that I am pleased vith all of your performances," she paused turning her attention away from any of them in particular. "You vill no doubt be comparing performances all afternoon. So, rather than comment further now, I will find each of you later throughout the day and ve will take a moment for a personal, one-on-one assessment. Tomorrow ve vill take a few minutes to discuss our performances openly as a class, and then move on to reviewing more spells and work on silent casting. Until then, I thank you all for your hard work and attention. Class is dismissed." She smiled at them as they each nodded a clearly silent "thank you," and began moving slowly toward the Manor talking animatedly about the lesson. "Are you kidding, Harry? You were brilliant! Alex had to end the lesson and you were still going," Ron said, clapping his best mate on the back as they entered the sitting room. "Now, I hope the elves have laid out lunch already, I am dead starving!" Ron exclaimed. While they ate lunch, they discussed the plans for the day. At one o'clock Mr. Prächt was scheduled to arrive at the Burrow for a meeting with Harry. Alastor Moody had been invited for this meeting as well. Harry was unsure how long this meeting would be, but suggested about an hour would be enough. Afterward the plan was to go to Grimmauld place. According to Moody, the Order had changed headquarters not long after Harry's last visit, so Grimmauld place now stood vacant. Moody had said that choosing a new headquarters was both a strategic move, and one necessitated by anticipation that the Fidelius Charm would not last long after Dumbledore's death. That was before it had been revealed that Dumbledore's continued existence in the form of a Chocolate Frog Card had prevented the charm from collapsing. Harry revealed that he had directed the elves to go to Grimmauld place more than a week ago, before the weddings, and begin cleaning it thoroughly in preparation for their visit. Among his plans was to summon Kreacher while they were there and introduce him to the other elves. Mr. Prächt arrived at the Burrow promptly at one o'clock where Harry and Alastor Moody met him and his associate, Heinrick. Harry introduced them to Mrs. Weasley and then quickly ushered them through the Burrow kitchen and on into the Manor. There they proceeded quickly to Harry's study were they could meet privately. They discussed at length Harry's proposal to fund the Ministry's efforts to build a proper army, including providing land for an army base on the outskirts of Hogsmeade village. Mr. Prächt listened politely to what Harry had to say and did not try to dissuade Harry from his course of action. However, he proposed the alternative of offering the Ministry the needed funds in the form of a no interest loan and the land as a free lease until such time that the present threat was no longer an issue. He further offered to request a meeting with the Minister himself to broach the subject and negotiate terms, thereby keeping Harry's involvement semi-private and away from the press. Moody quickly supported Mr. Prächt's alternative and Harry agreed. Thereafter, Harry politely asked Moody to leave the room so that he could discuss a few more personal matters with his legal counsel. Once their discussions were done Harry asked Mr. Prächt and Heinrick if they would care to stay for tea. In typical fashion they politely declined, so Harry walked them back through to the Burrow and bid them thanks, and good day. Harry found his friends gathered in the sitting room waiting for him. Ginny and Luna were playing a game of Exploding Snap. Hermione was deep into a book, and in typical fashion Ron was preparing himself a sandwich from the leftover lunch trays. Ginny looked up as he entered. "All finished with your business?" She asked. "Yes," Harry responded. "So is the Ministry gonna get its army after all?" Ron asked, before taking a large bite of his sandwich. "I believe so," Harry replied directly. "Harry, I do wish there was an alternative to just giving away such a large portion of your inheritance," Hermione stated. "As it turns out, there is," Harry said. "Mr. Prächt suggested that he approach the Minister with a proposal to loan the Ministry enough money to meet the army's needs, under favorable terms." Hermione began to say something more, when Luna's discard suddenly exploded. Ginny promptly laid down her hand and declared, "Snap!" When the chuckles subsided, Harry asked, "Are we ready to head to Grimmauld place?" "Ready when you are," Ron declared. "I think we should go, then," Harry said as he turned to leave the room. They all followed. Harry led them down the hallway toward the linen closet where the Portis Omnibus led to the Burrow. "What about Alex? Should we tell her where we are off to?" Hermione asked. "No need," Harry answered. "She left with Moody, said she would not be home until late this evening. Something about shopping for supplies. For her new job I suspect." "What is her new job, anyway?" Luna asked. "We don't know," Ginny responded, "She hasn't said." "With her experience as a dragon tamer, it's probably something exciting and dangerous," Ron speculated as he took Hermione's hand in his. "Are we going to take the Floo from the Burrow?" Hermione asked as they paused at the closet door. "Actually, for security reasons I asked Tonks to have the Floo disconnected when the Order moved out," Harry said. This caused several questioning looks. "But, as the elves have been there cleaning I had Jarphred pick an appropriate doorway and set up a Portis charm connection." "Good thinking, mate," Ron said. Harry pulled the Any-Door-Knob from his pocket and placed it in the cupboard door. He then did a number of quick back and forth turns and declared, "Number Twelve Grimmauld place." The beautiful blue lattice filled the frame as he pushed the door open. Then, he simply stepped through. They emerged from a corresponding doorway on the second floor of Grimmauld Place. As they stood in the dreary second floor landing they heard soft footfalls fast approaching. Winky appeared at the top of the stairs. "Good afternoon, Master Harry, Mistress Ginny," she said with a slight bow as she stepped toward them. Harry knelt down to the elf's level, "Good afternoon, Winky. And how is the work coming along?" "Very filthy this house is, Master," Winky replied, "but, we has finished the basement and first two floors as master requested. Winky hopes Master Harry will be pleased." She smiled a bit shyly. "I am certain everything will be more than satisfactory," Harry replied with a smile. Which caused the little elf to blush slightly. "Please show us, Winky." Winky led them down the stairs, and at the mid-landing the transformation of the house became immediately obvious, though the second floor on which they arrived was still dull and dreary with dark painted woodwork and indistinct tattered wall paper. The first floor had been stripped clean, there were no heavy curtains remaining and all the thread bare and dirty carpeting had been pulled up and removed. The painted woodwork had been stripped and newly finished with a Burma teak stain to bring out the beautiful grain of the English oak finishing. The wood floors too had been refinished in a slightly darker tone than the moldings and wainscoting. With the wallpaper gone and the plaster walls patched, scrubbed and primed white, it looked like a completely different house. Light streamed in through the cleaned windows in the stairwell and at the front and back of the house giving a completely different impression. On the whole the spaces felt happier somehow. The dank smell of the place was also completely gone from the lower floors, replaced by the newness of fresh floor wax and primer. As they passed the first floor, Winky explained. "As master asked all the furnishings have been disassembled, scrubbed clean, and moved to the front parlor to await inspection. While all the china, utensils, bric-a-brac and decorative items, from the floors so far, have been cleaned and sorted in the dining room." As they stepped onto the ground floor the clean bright entry way looked brand new, except for the area immediately around the curtained portrait of Walburga Black. "Wow," Ron exclaimed loudly "This place looks..." Before he could finish his statement the moth-eaten velvet curtains flew open and the portrait of Walburga Black screamed a blood curdling shriek that filled the bright space with a sudden chill. "Defilers, filth, what dirty little creatures dare transform the beautiful house of my fathers. Be gone you nasty little gremlins and degrade my house no further!" She screamed again and continued her tirade, spilling her bile at a deafening volume. Both Jarvy and Dobby came running through the kitchen door at the sound of the woman's voice. They stopped before Harry, bowing hastily. "Master, we are very sorry, we have tried everything, but the vile portrait cannot be silenced," Jarvy said apologetically. "It has taken our most powerful magic just to close the curtains every time this happens!" Dobby added. Both elves looked wearied as they glanced sidelong at the portrait. Harry knelt down to address them as he spoke loud enough to be heard over the screams and cackles. "This is nothing to do with any of you," he said, "I am very proud of your efforts here. I expected to have to deal with this." With that, he stood and strode over before the portrait, which immediately assaulted him with a string of vile invectives. He stood for a moment watching the mad woman brandishing her nails as though she might reach from the canvas and tear at him. Then suddenly he took a great breath and at a volume none of them had ever heard from him he yelled at the portrait, "Be silent you nasty old crone! I am the rightful inheritor of all that once belonged to the Family Black, I am the sole master of this house and I will have silence!" The mad woman stopped short, aghast, but apparently hearing what Harry was saying. "If you will not be silent I swear I will visit you with a bucket of turpentine, and we will see who has the last word then!" The portrait began to whimper and cry frightfully as Harry reached out and roughly yanked the nasty curtains closed. "Harry, that was brilliant," Ron said. Harry glanced at the curtains for a moment, but they did not move. "Yeah, well, I am serious about the turpentine," Harry replied loudly. The curtains remained still. "Sorry about that unpleasantness. Shall we get on with our business?" He moved purposefully down the hallway toward the kitchen stairway. The others following quietly. The kitchen was gleaming, looking as new as the other spaces, the cupboards were all refinished and empty, the stone floor was polished brightly. The fireplace, which was once dingy and blackened, had been cleaned and polished to reveal a green glazed tile finish and the antiquated appliances had all been removed, leaving space for new to be installed in the future. Thankfully, the large table and chairs were still present, looking completely restored and refinished. All of the dishes, cookware and kitchen utensils were cleaned and sorted at the far end of the table. Harry sat heavily in the nearest chair and the others sat as well. Despite the scrubbed space and the lack of appliances, Jarvy snapped his fingers causing a tea service and tray of cakes to appear on the table before them. Hermione began pouring tea for each of them. Harry removed the pewter base from his back pants pocket and set it on the table. Then he pulled the card from his shirt pocket and set it in place. "Greetings to you all," Dumbledore exclaimed. They all returned greetings. "Ah, I see, as we discussed, the elves have done a wonderful job on the house. This hardly looks like the same kitchen." "Yes, they are turning it into a house someone could actually live in," Harry said, as he accepted a cup from Hermione. "I see you have tea laid out, please don't let me interrupt," Dumbledore said as he leaned back on his office desk and reached in to the jar of lemon sherbets. They enjoyed their tea quietly for a few minutes. "So, this was your Godfather's house, Harry?" Luna asked casually, breaking the repast. Harry nodded a response as he sipped his tea. "Who is the horrible woman in the portrait?" Luna questioned. Hermione responded as Harry's cup was still raised. "That was Walburga Black. She was Sirius' mother. The portrait is stuck to the wall with a Permanent Sticking Charm. So far no one has been able to break it." "Oh," Luna responded, "Did she do that herself before she passed?" "We think so," Ginny said, "but, I guess we don't know for certain." "That is correct," Dumbledore interjected. "We do not know for certain, even when the portrait was first hung. It is possible it could have been before her husband, Orion, passed. But, we simply do not know." "If she did, and she has now passed," Luna said, "then the charm is most likely anchored to something in the house, a rune stone, or something else that is still here, if we can find the anchor, it shouldn't be that hard to remove the portrait." she said. "You do want the portrait removed, don't you, Harry?" "Are you kidding?" Ron blurted. "Of course Harry wants it removed." "Yes, I do, Luna," Harry answered. "But that is not our purpose for coming here today." "Luna, a commendable observation," Dumbledore said. "And, quite correct. If the charm is anchored, finding the anchor is the solution," he paused. "I thought that myself, but never felt I had the time to do a proper search." There was silence for a minute as they all drank their tea and enjoyed the cakes. "Did all of the house look like the floor we arrived on?" Luna broke the silence. "Yes, it did, Luna," Ginny answered, "When we first came here a couple summers ago, we did a lot of cleaning, but it was all completely dreadful." "Well," Luna said dreamily, "It feels like a good house. If it will all be re-made to look as the elves have done here and on the ground floor, it will be quite lovely." Luna looked about the kitchen wistfully. "What are you going to do with it, Harry?" "Actually," Harry began, "I was thinking that I would give it to Lupin and Tonks as a wedding gift. Tonks is Sirius' cousin, and Lupin was one of his best friends, so it seems fitting to me that they should have it. I actually spoke to Mr. Prächt about it this morning. He is going to make the arrangements." "Oh, Harry, that is a wonderful idea," Hermione said. The others nodded in agreement. "But, none of that is why we are here today." Harry set down his empty cup. "So, what say we get on with our purpose?" "Quite so," Ron said as he put down his own cup and snatched the last remaining cake. They left the kitchen, returning to the ground floor, where the ratty velvet curtains remained still and closed over the portrait of Walburga Black. By habit they maintained near silence as they moved in to the dining room where the elves had assembled the various items they had come across during their cleaning. Unfortunately, the place had been previously scoured by Mundungus Fletcher, with a quite different intent than restoration. It took them only a few short minutes to realize that nothing remained of any particular value, and no magical items, cursed or otherwise, seemed to remain at all. Harry directed the elves to dispose of anything that did not bear a Black family crest, or wasn't made of some valuable material. The parlor was another matter as Harry had no idea what to do with the cleaned and disassembled furniture, or any of the tapestries, rugs, or paintings. After a cursory look they moved up to the second floor and began examining the bedrooms there. With the help of the elves, they removed all the curtains and rugs; which Harry decided could be Banished directly to the rubbish heap in the back garden, doxies and all, and disassembled the beds in all three bedrooms in an effort to make a thorough search of the rooms. They did the same on the third floor as well. This process moved along quickly as these floors had been used extensively by members of the Order and they didn't really expect to find anything on these floors that had not previously been discovered. The fourth floor landing was the smallest as there were only two bedrooms. The floors of the house each had progressively lower ceilings so this uppermost landing, though its ceiling was easily better than eight feet, felt positively claustrophobic as compared to the lower levels. There were only two doors, owing to the fact that the wash room door had been removed at some point. Harry vaguely remembered something about a ghoul having once lived there. He supposed that was why the door was missing. In any case, the plumbing to this floor was no longer working, and no repair work had yet been done so it made little difference that the wash room lacked a door. There was, in fact, a fourth doorway on the fourth floor landing. It was the doorway that led to the attic, but it was cleverly constructed of the same bead-board that covered the landing walls and so was not easy to see until one knew it was there. The door, which led toward the back of the house, had a hand scrawled paper sign posted. The sign read, "Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black." It was, Harry thought, a bit irrational to hope that the locket would be in Regulus' bedroom, especially since they had seen it two years previous in the drawing room. But, it was still, in Harry's mind, important to search the room. Harry pushed open the door and entered so that the rest could follow. The room was completely decked out in the Slytherin colors of emerald and silver; the draping over the bed, the walls, and the windows. The Black family crest was painstakingly painted over the bed, along with its motto, Toujours Pur. Beneath this was a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a ragged collage. Hermione crossed the room to examine them. As they had done in rooms previous, the elves, cautiously, began to pull down all the fabrics and Banish them to the rubbish heap. Hermione began to take down all of the clippings for examination later. Ron Banished the mattress and linens so that he could begin to disassemble the bed itself. Ginny and Luna cautiously approached a large wardrobe to search its contents while Harry moved toward a small writing desk and dresser in order to do the same. Harry found an old photo of a Slytherin House Quidditch team. A dark haired boy sat prominently in the front row that had to be Regulus. He was slighter than Sirius, but bore an obvious resemblance. Harry handed the framed photo to Hermione who was of course in charge of collecting any found documentation for careful review. After about twenty minutes of combing through the minutia of Regulus' scraps and books they declared the room searched and decided to move across the hall. Sirius' room was toward the front of the house. The room was spacious and must once have been handsome. There was a large bed with a carved wooden headboard, velvet curtains, a small writing desk, and a large wooden wardrobe. The teenage Sirius had plastered the walls with so many posters and pictures that little of the walls’ silvery-gray silk was visible. Sirius seemed to have gone out of his way to annoy his parents. There were several large Gryffindor banners, faded scarlet and gold, just to underline his difference from all the rest of the Slytherin family. There were many pictures of Muggle motorcycles, and also several posters of bikini-clad Muggle girls. This was in contrast to the only Wizarding photograph on the walls, which was a picture of four Hogwarts students standing arm in arm, laughing at the camera. Harry was immediately drawn to the photo as the others began their search according to their chosen roles. With a leap of pleasure, Harry recognized his father; his untidy black hair stuck up at the back like Harry’s, and he too wore glasses. Beside him was Sirius, carelessly handsome, his slightly arrogant face so much younger and happier than Harry had ever seen it alive. To Sirius’s right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter, plump and watery-eyed, flushed with pleasure at his inclusion in this coolest of gangs, with the much-admired rebels that James and Sirius had been. On James’s left was Lupin, even then a little shabby-looking, but he had the same air of delighted surprise at finding himself liked and included … or was it simply because Harry knew how it had been, that he saw these things in the picture? Harry carefully removed the framed picture from the wall and handed it to Hermione for sorting and safe keeping. She was already examining and collecting papers from all over the room. Sirius’s bedroom appeared to have been searched, like all the other rooms of the house. Books had been shaken roughly enough to part company with their covers, and sundry pages littered the floor. Dobby interrupted Harry, to ask what should be done with all the posters on the walls. Harry took a last look around the room, which captured the youthful rebellion of his god-father, but saw no reason the keep these things, so directed Dobby to send it all the rubbish heap. "Harry," Ginny appeared excitedly at his side. "I have found something that might interest you," she said as she handed him a snap-shot sized photo. "I picked this up by the wardrobe," she finished. In the photo, a black-haired baby was zooming in and out of the image on a tiny broom, roaring with laughter. A pair of legs appeared momentarily chasing after the child. Harry looked back at Ginny and shrugged. "That's a picture of you, Harry," Ginny said with a grin. "Who else could it be, with that mess of black hair, and that cute laugh?" Harry examined the photo more closely and arrived at the same conclusion. "Is it a picture of a child on a broomstick?" Hermione asked. "Yes, it is," Ginny responded. "How did you know?" "Because I've found a page from a letter that I think went with it," Hermione said, crossing the room to hand the page to Harry. "I think it is written by your mother." Harry took the page and immediately began to read it. Dear Padfoot, Thank you, thank you, for Harry’s birthday present! It was his favorite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself, I’m enclosing a picture so you can see. You know it only rises about two feet off the ground, but he nearly killed the cat and he smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course, James thought it was so funny, says he’s going to be a great Quidditch player, but we’ve had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don’t take our eyes off him when he gets going. We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us and who dotes on Harry. We were so sorry you couldn’t come, but the Order’s got to come first, and Harry’s not old enough to know it’s his birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell – also, Dumbledore’s still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend, I thought he seemed down, but that was probably the news about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard. Bathilda drops in most days, she’s a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore, I’m not sure he’d be pleased if he knew! I don’t know how much to believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore … Harry stood quite still, holding the miraculous paper in a hand that no longer seemed to be responding to the rest of him. Inside him a kind of quiet eruption sent joy and grief thundering in equal measure through his veins. "May I?" Ginny asked as she plucked the letter from his fingers and read it herself. "She has made her 'g's the same way you do, Harry." Ginny commented idly. Harry's mind was elsewhere. The letter was an incredible treasure, proof that Lily Potter had lived, really lived, that her warm hand had once moved across this parchment, tracing ink into these letters, these words, words about him, Harry, her son. Still, this find, while wonderful, had little to do with the task at hand. Harry shook his head clear. "I would like to keep this, obviously, but for now let's sort it with any other papers. And, we'll keep an eye out for the rest of it," Harry said. Ginny shot Harry, a concerned glance, but handed the letter and photo to Hermione. After a half hour search of the room there was nothing of magical interest to be found. Nor, sadly, was there any evidence of the remainder of the letter by Harry's mother. A few more photographs had been found that were of personal interest, but Harry felt there would be time to deal with such emotional content at a later date. They moved on from Sirius' bedroom to do a short search of the attic. There they found mostly trunks of Black family memorabilia, old photographs, clothes and the like, but nothing of any obvious significance. After consulting his watch, Harry directed it all be kept for sorting later, and suggested they wrap up the search and adjourn for diner. They decided to remain at Grimmauld Place, while the elves popped back and forth to serve dinner in the refurbished kitchen. The group enjoyed a scrumptious meal together, but there was a damper on the mood. The afternoon had been so far, largely, unproductive with regard to the reason for their being there. Ginny could feel the weight of their efforts hanging off of Harry, and hoped that after dinner things would go better. Once the dishes were cleared, they enjoyed pudding and the conversation picked up a little, but clearly there was still an agenda to be pursued. Finally having had enough, Ginny asked Winky to clear the table and said, "Alright, enough of this casual banter, it is nice, but we still have a job to do here, and I for one am ready to get on with it." They all turned to Harry and waited for him to say something. "Well, it has come to this, then," Harry said. "I had hoped we would find something, a clue, or better, the locket, while scouring the house. But, as our search has yielded nothing, it is time I suppose, to move on to the next order of business." "Which is?" Luna asked in here usual half-distracted tone. Harry stood up from his chair, summoning the elves as he did. "Our next order of business is to call Kreacher, and bring him into the fold, so to speak." Harry said. He explained to the elves, "I inherited Kreacher with this house. He served the Black family for many years, and was alone in this house for a long time," Harry gestured to the floor above, "with only that horrid portrait as company. Throughout his life he has been subject to a tremendous amount of abuse." Harry paused. "I sent him to work at Hogwarts just about a year ago, and have only summoned him once in all that time." "Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "On that occasion, you stated quite adamantly that you would never trust him. Has your position changed?" Harry turned to the card, set out on the table. "I think so, Professor. Not that I have thought about it a lot," He moved to the boiler cupboard, where Kreacher had once created a sort of nest beneath the boiler. He opened the door and peered in to the dark space. It had been completely cleaned out and scrubbed by the other elves. "I spent years in a cupboard myself, so, as I think about it, I believe I have come to understand him a bit better." Harry shut the door and returned to the table. "Years of isolation, bad company, abuse, and who knows what else have driven him a bit mad, cementing unreasonable opinions. It will take patience and kindness to help him, and I see now that help is what he needs." Hermione beamed at Harry as he talked. "Still, he knows things. Things that could be very helpful to us. So, we must speak with him. I can order him to tell me what he knows, but I think that asking him would be the better approach." "Quite so, Harry," Dumbledore agreed. "And, let me say that I am very proud of you for coming to this realization." Harry acknowledged the complement with a nod. "I will summon him, but, I cannot say how he will react to the changes that have already been made to this house. Let me reiterate that we must all try to be kind." Harry stood silently until everyone around the table, and the elves, had agreed with a nod. "Kreacher," Harry called authoritatively. With a quiet "pop" the decrepit little elf appeared. "The master calls and Kreacher must obey," came the deep raspy, and quite weary voice of the elderly elf. Harry knelt down to Kreacher's level. The elf was looking down at the polished floor and did not appear to want to look up at Harry, but he looked better and cleaner than Harry had ever seen him. "It appears that your time at Hogwarts has done you some good, Kreacher." Harry stated. "Kreacher serves the school of his master, as the master ordered," he intoned. "I am pleased, Kreacher, that you have obeyed so faithfully," Harry said kindly. "You have honored the House of Potter." Kreacher raised his head for the first time and met Harry's gaze with watery yellowed eyes. He sneered angrily, but did not speak. "Kreacher," Harry said. "You may say anything you wish. I will not be angry with you." Kreacher balled his fists at his sides apparently wanting to physically lash out, but unable to. "The master wants to know what Kreacher thinks?" he uttered with surprise and a hint of disdain. "Perhaps, Master, we could be of help?" Jarphred gently interrupted. Kreacher turned in alarm at the presence of the other elves behind him. He had apparently not yet taken in his surroundings, and suddenly he did so with urgency. "It is clear that Kreacher," Jarphred, nodded at Kreacher, acknowledging his presence, "has no real knowledge of his new master, or the House to which he is now bound. Such transitions can be difficult for elves, so long in service to a single family. If we might be allowed to impart our own experiences to him, that will help him to understand the opportunity now before him." "This is possible?" Harry asked. "Yes, Master, elves bound to the same service share a kinship. We may easily share with Kreacher our impressions and experiences. It will happen naturally over time, but we can also offer these impressions freely." "Kreacher," Harry said. "I will not order you to do this. But if you will allow it, I believe your fellows are offering you a gift," he spoke kindly. Kreacher eyed the other elves dubiously, then turned his head to look at Harry with what could only be called curiosity. "These are also in your service?" he asked. Harry nodded confirmation. Kreacher turned back to Jarphred, moving slowly closer, appraising the elf carefully. "Kreacher, has not met an elf older than himself in many years. You have served our master's house for your entire life?" Kreacher asked with a hint of disbelief. "Yes, Kreacher, and my family before me for six generations. I can offer you an understanding of your new home that extends beyond what any other knows." "It speaks the truth," Kreacher said turning back to Harry. "There can be no deception in what it proposes. Master is willing to include Kreacher in this way?" "His name is Jarphred, Kreacher, and he is deserving of your respect. In fact, respect is one demand I will make of both my servants, and myself. Yes, I am willing to include you, Kreacher. The question is, are you willing to be included?" Kreacher turned back to the other elves and nodded slightly. Dobby and Winky stepped closer forming a tight circle between them each reaching their hand to the next's shoulder, Kreacher included. They closed their eyes, their heads bowed almost reverently. A soft glow began to rise from each of them, brightening with each passing moment. Jarphred, Dobby and Winky shone with the golden hue that Harry had seen when he took them in to his service, but Kreacher's glow was a duller muddy green. They all watched in amazement at the display before them. Ginny moved closer and took Harry's hand. "Excellent," the Dumbledore card said with unveiled excitement. "Harry, my boy, I believe this is the absolute best course of action, given this situation." "I agree professor," Harry said in an awed whisper. They watched in silence as the elves' golden glow slowly encompassed Kreacher mixing and lightening his lesser hues. After a couple of minutes the glow receded, and the elves dropped their hands to their sides. Kreacher seemed to stand a bit straighter as he turned back to Harry; he was wide eyed, as though seeing Harry for the first time, his hands clasped humbly before him. "Master, must forgive Kreacher. He simply did not understand," the little elf said almost pleadingly. Harry released Ginny's hand and knelt back down to Kreacher's level, placing his hand gently on Kreacher's shoulder. "There is nothing to forgive, Kreacher," he said simply. Kreacher's eyes grew even wider. Harry stood back up and grasped Ginny's hand once more. The other elves were grinning adoringly at Harry. Kreacher took a tentative step forward. "Please, Master Harry," he paused as though surprised by his own utterance of the common familiarity used by the other elves. "How may Kreacher be of service?" Harry glanced to the Dumbledore card. "Go ahead, Harry," Dumbledore said. Harry reached in to his jeans pocket and pulled out the plain golden locket they had retrieved at great cost from the cave by the sea. He let it dangle by the chain in front of Kreacher. The little elf took a step back and cowered before the shiny object in Harry's hand. "Master, that is not possible!" Kreacher exclaimed with despair and began to weep. The other elves moved to comfort Kreacher. "You know this locket, Kreacher?" Harry asked still keeping his tone measured and gentle. Kreacher breathed a "Yes, Master" through his sniffles and fear. "Kreacher, you need not fear it, or the fact that I now hold it in my possession. If I am correct, then it comes to me, rightfully, by inheritance. Within it is a note written by R.A.B. who I believe was Regulus Arcturus Black. But, you already know these facts I see," Harry stated. Kreacher stood a little straighter. "Yes, Master," he said. "Please, Kreacher, I need for you to tell me everything you know about this locket," Harry said. With only a hint of hesitation Kreacher began to tell his tale. He spoke first of Regulus Black, whom he had obviously adored; of his admiration for the one who called himself the 'Dark Lord' and who was recruiting followers for his own evil purposes. He confirmed that Regulus had joined the Death Eaters and for a time believed fully in the goals set before them. Eventually, though, Regulus had suspected a much Darker purpose, and to his own detriment begun to put together pieces of a considerably murkier goal. In fear, Regulus had begun to look for a way out. Then came a night when the Dark Lord had come to him to ask a favor. Voldemort needed an elf and he asked Regulus for Kreacher. Without a choice, Regulus did as his lord demanded and told Kreacher to go with Voldemort and do what he bid without hesitation. However, unknown to Voldemort, Regulus had ordered Kreacher to return to him once his task with the Dark Lord was done. Under these instructions, Kreacher had journeyed with Voldemort to the cave by the sea to test the defenses the Dark Lord had contrived for the purpose of protecting a magical object. There they crossed the dark lake in the tiny boat and once on the barren rock island, Kreacher was ordered to drink the potion from a stone basin. As he drank his mind was filled with the most horrible thoughts, and he became weak. He felt a tremendous thirst and was certain he was dying. Voldemort laughed at him as he crawled slowly to the water’s edge, as though reaching the water might quench the vile inferno of horrors consuming him. The Dark Lord placed something in the basin and waited only long enough for it to refill with potion before stepping back in to the boat and departing. All the while he laughed, and laughed. As Voldemort disappeared in to the gloom Kreacher reached the water’s edge and drank deeply of the foul water before suddenly being pull beneath the surface by horrid pale creatures. His breath failed him and the grip of the creatures was so cold. There was nothing but death remaining, and Kreacher knew he would die, in the greatest of shame, for he had failed his master, Regulus. But Kreacher did not die, instead, as his master had ordered, completely instinctively he Apparated back to Grimmauld Place. Regulus had found him and over the course of several weeks nursed him back to a semblance of health. The potion would have a lasting effect on Kreacher's sanity, and he would now have to remain unseen so the Dark Lord would not learn the truth that he still lived, but he regained his strength. After a time there came another night when master Regulus called upon Kreacher, and demanded that the elf take him to the very vile place that the Dark Lord had taken Kreacher before. Kreacher had pleaded with his master not to do this thing, but Regulus had insisted. Thus once more Kreacher found himself on the shore of the black lake, within the cave by the sea. They had summoned the boat and used it to journey to the island of rock. There Regulus gave Kreacher the old family locket and carefully instructed him on what he should do. Regulus intended to drink the potion himself and ordered Kreacher to make sure he consumed it all by whatever means was required. Thereafter, Kreacher was to switch the lockets and return them home. Most importantly, Regulus ordered Kreacher, that whatever fate befell him, Kreacher was to escape with the locket and see that it was destroyed, and never could he reveal to anyone where it had come from. It was only now that Kreacher could tell his story, as he was not revealing where the locket had come form, Harry and the others already knew. Harry was consumed with his own parallel memories as Kreacher described his master screaming and pleading as the elf pressed each cup of potion upon him. Kreacher didn't want to do it, but he had been ordered and so had no choice. When the task was complete Kreacher went to the basin one last time and switched the lockets according to his orders. As he did so, Regulus, in his potion induced madness launched himself into the lake and disappeared in a splash and swirl of churning water. As the Inferi lumbered from the surrounding waters, Kreacher called desperately for his master, but Regulus was gone. At the last moment as the dreadful clutching hands of the vile Inferi were almost upon him, he Apparated home. With great sadness Kreacher revealed that the locket had remained at Grimmauld Place, where Kreacher had tried everything in his power to destroy it, to no avail. So, on top of his isolation, the effects of the Dark Lord's potion, and having only the company of a raving portrait, Kreacher had also lived these recent years with the idea that he had failed his master, Regulus. "Kreacher," Harry said with gentle compassion. "You have not failed your former master, and I have faith that you will never fail your present. What you have done, is to display the greatest of courage and devotion. Your actions have done nothing put bring honor to the House of Black." Kreacher smiled up at his master. "Kreacher, we know that the locket was here in this house, because we saw it two summers ago after I came to stay here with the Order. We know that it was among the items that Sirius attempted to throw out." He paused, "We also know that a thief called Mundungus Fletcher ransacked the house and stole whatever he could get his hands on that he deemed might be of value." Kreacher nodded, acknowledging these facts. "Do you, Kreacher, have any knowledge of what became of it," Harry asked adamantly. Kreacher smiled knowingly at Harry. "Master," he said, "Kreacher knows. Kreacher is still bound by the order to see the thing destroyed, so it was not possible for him to allow it to leave his awareness." "So, it is still here?" Harry asked, his excitement growing rapidly. "Yes, Master," Kreacher acknowledged. "Kreacher will give it to Master, only with the promise that it will be destroyed." "Of course, Kreacher, that is my objective. It must be destroyed, I promise," Harry said. With the word of his master secured, Kreacher turned and trotted to his cupboard, threw open the door, and crawled beneath the boiler where his nest of old blankets and pilfered keepsakes had once been. He stood up behind the boiler in the space created by pushing the rounded boiler into the square corner. There was not enough space for a wizard to crawl back there. They heard the scraping of ceramic brick against masonry. Moments later, Kreacher returned with a rune stone about the size of his palm, and wrapped around it, almost as though it were iron clinging to a loadstone was the heavy gold locket with a serpentine S in glittering green stone inlay on the front. Slytherin's locket. "Kreacher retrieved it from the rubbish bin and hid it away in his special hiding spot, before that foul thief ever set foot in this house," Kreacher said, now with a bit of pride, as he offered both to Harry. Harry accepted the items. He attempted to pull the locket from the stone, but it and its chain seemed to cling desperately to the other item, and though he felt they could be separated it would require more than a casual tug. He smiled proudly at the little elf, who smiled happily in return. "I am guessing you have a magical hiding place created back there, created by your former mistress, or at her command, originally to hide this rune stone?" Harry questioned. "Yes, Master," Kreacher confirmed. "Mistress Walburga created a cloaked and disguised space behind a loose brick in the corner where only Kreacher could reach. It was a place to hide the stone, so that none would ever remove her portrait from the wall. It was the only place Kreacher could be sure that the locket would be safe from, master Sirius, and the many strangers that he allowed in to the house." "Kreacher," Harry said proudly, "You have yet again brought honor to your master and your House. I release you now from any responsibility you feel for this horrid magical item, and promise you that you will soon see it destroyed. As a reward for your faithful service I want you to have the Black family locket as a personal keepsake." He handed Regulus' locket to the elf, who seemed awed into complete disbelief. "Master wants me to have a personal possession?" Kreacher said through mounting tears. "Yes, Kreacher, that locket is yours, and yours alone," Harry said. The little elf held it to his heart as though it might jump away on its own, then he turned and excitedly showed the treasure to the other elves. "Well, well," the voice of Dumbledore, from the card still on the table, broke the sustained moment of awe that held sway of the room. "This has turned out to be the most productive of evenings after all." Everyone turned to face the card, nodding their agreement. "Might I suggest that we return now to your safer home, secure that locket, and perhaps enjoy some quiet relaxation in the sitting room? Tomorrow, we can discuss exactly how to destroy that object once and for all.” "I for one agree, Professor," Ron responded. "It will be time for evening tea by the time we get there anyway." The very next day just after lunch, Harry led them all down to the potions storeroom and beyond, down to the round stone room beneath. He had asked Kreacher to join them, and Hermione had accepted the task of holding the pewter base, so that Dumbledore could attend. As they Apparated in, the torches around the room illuminated, revealing a stone and anvil placed a few meters away from the center of the room. Upon the anvil was the rune stone and locket and leaning against the stone was a heavy battle axe. Harry explained. "Dumbledore used the sword of Gryffindor to destroy Marvolo Gaunt's ring. He believed, rightly so, that the sword had absorbed the magical qualities of Basilisk venom when I used it to slay the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. As I had destroyed the diary with a venomous fang, he reasoned correctly that the sword would be capable of the task." Harry paused, looking at the card held carefully in Hermione's hands. "Dumbledore thought that he might be able to teach me to summon the sword so that we could use it here today, but it occurred to me that we already had a weapon capable of doing the job. Ron found it in the treasure room. The battle axe of Caractacus Potter, my great-great-great-great-grandfather, is the very weapon that once defeated Salazar Slytherin himself. It bears power over anything born of Slytherin's legacy and by reason, that should include any object created by Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord. I am confident, and Dumbledore agrees, that it can accomplish the task." "And so, in order that he might fulfill, once and for all, the command of his former master, Regulus Black, I would like Kreacher to come forward and have the honor of destroying this foul object." Harry gestured for Kreacher to come forward. The little elf joined Harry by the anvil. Harry knelt to his level and addressed him directly. "This Battle Axe is as big as you are Kreacher, and it is heavy. But, all you need do is swing it overhead and let it come down upon the rune stone and the locket that clings to it. Hit it directly, and it should do the job." Kreacher nodded. Harry stepped back to the others and took Ginny's hand in his. She gave it a little squeeze. Kreacher took hold of the battle axe handle and dragged it behind him so that he was positioned to swing it. The task looked impossible given the size of the battle axe, compared to the elf who intended to swing it. Harry was confident that Kreacher was up to it. "For, Master Regulus, the House of Black, and for Master Harry, and the House of Potter, Kreacher delightedly obeys!" Kreacher said loudly. He heaved the battle axe, which seemed to protest being lifted, but slowly its edge left the ground and journeyed upward over Kreacher's head speeding up as it went. At the apex of the swing it glinted in the torchlight almost, Harry thought, as though it was suddenly delighted to be in use after so many years. The axe blade came down cleanly upon its target, impacting the body of the locket. There was a blinding flash of light and what sounded like a horribly anguished scream. Thick green smoke issued from the cleaved locket and it seemed as though it were fighting against an unseen force to reach out toward them, but in moments, it was as though it were pulled in to nothingness. Silence settled upon the room, and the third of the Dark Lord's Horcruxes was no more. Remnants of the cleaved locket and shattered rune stone lay scattered about the space surrounding the anvil. At that moment, neither seen, nor heard, by any witnesses; in the bright entry way of Grimmauld Place, there was another scream. One horribly blood curdling, but somewhat less soul-wrenching, than the scream of the dying Horcrux. It was the portrait of Walburga Black. It screamed loud and long in the moment it realized that the portrait, frame, curtains, and all, was slipping from the wall. It fell the several inches to the floor with a loud thud. And then, slowly, fell forward, landing curtains to canvas, face down on the newly refinished foyer floor. Please review - Thanks! NEXT Chapter Twenty-Five Summer's End |
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