Chapter 5: The Will of Sirius Black
Maximum Security Block, Azkaban, Somewhere In The Atlantic
Azkaban prison. Built by the dwarves during a war long forgotten, the dread fortress of Azkaban had stood eerily along the banks of the island for over a thousand years. Despite their best efforts to put the darkness of the past behind them, the infamous prison continues to harshly remind the wizarding world of the darkness they would choose to blindly ignore.
It was shortly before nightfall when the boat arrived. This was the only way for any outside of a very select few to get to the god forsaken island. Here, the Atlantic was harsh, and it never stopped storming. Even now, he could see the icy waters of the Atlantic crashing against the rocky cliffs of the island. Howling winds emitted a tumultuous rage and lightning split the sky open, daring anyone to come to this forbidden place. A lone beach stood out among the jagged rocks, black sand the only relief on an isle of unforgiving stone.
The island was inaccessible by Portkey and apparition, except through strictly enforced security protocols, by which means only the Minister, Head of the DMLE, and the Prison's Warden had access. If by some chance, another tried to access Azkaban by these means, there were powerful security wards in place to prevent any unauthorized guests. No, it was near impossible to come here without authorization and the proper transportation.
Even the muggles knew not to come to this part of the ocean, their technology was said to go completely wacky here, even if such devices had been warded against magic. As unplottable and warded as it was, even the muggles feared these seas. They called this area the Bermuda Triangle, not even knowing that wizards had set up wards that way over the centuries, with the forbidding prison of Azkaban at its center. Though the location of the prison was acknowledged publicly as being hidden somewhere in the North Sea, there were a handful of individuals aware that an massively powerful illusion of the Prison at the location hid the presence of the portal to the prison that would rise from the sea floor, given the proper password from the proper location and distance out.
If, by the minimal chance that any invaders actually managed to get to the correct location and view the prison, the prison was still guarded by more than just the storms, illusions, walls and gates. Numerous wards surrounded the fortress, many of them having been cast by the dwarves themselves, along with the help of goblin slaves at the time. As such, they only grew stronger with age. The island was further isolated from the outside world by the unplottable charm placed upon it, and the Floo System was completely blocked off except for highly secured connections between the prison Warden's floo, the Head of the DMLE's floo, and the Minister of Magic's floo.
Getting here was hard enough, but if one ever decided to be the first person in history to escape the Island of Sorrow, they would have to get through the vast maze of corridors, past the Dementors and the aurors. Not many, if any at all, could complete such a feat, especially without a wand. And if that didn't stop them, there were still the frigid, icy waters of the ocean that would freeze their very bones. Such a swim, hundreds of miles to shore would be impossible.
Looking up, he saw the fortress that stood atop the hill amongst the rocks. Built in the center of the barren island, the imposing structure was made of the strongest, magically resistant ore. Built of adamantium and lined with mythril, the walls of the fortress could withstand almost anything and absorb immense amounts of magic, strengthening them even further. Ominous gates sealed the building from the outside, while a series of guard towers watched the rock strewn land below. Some of the most powerful armies ever to rise had tested their might and fallen against have these impenetrable walls, and Dark Lords of the greatest power and skill had failed to claim victory against the infamous fortress.
The dread fortress of Azkaban.
The fortress stood before him as a testament to an age long lost to history. It's dark, torch-lit stone corridors had housed many of Britain's most notorious and infamous criminals. Throughout the centuries, since being entrusted to the British Ministry, those the Ministry wished to silence had also found themselves thrust into one of Azkaban's endless cells. The dark maze of corridors within the prison was lined with countless cells, magically reinforced doors keeping the inmates at bay. They weren't needed to prevent escape though. Dementors prowled the corridors, feeding off the prisoners and as such, the majority of the prison's residents were trapped within their own mind, plagued by the worst nightmares of their various pasts, haunted by demons that never slept. They were incapable of thinking in a sane manner. It was the closest thing possible to hell on earth.
It had been a long time since he had come here, but he had business to attend to. Normally, goblins would never be seen in this dank, accursed place. Naturally, this was due to the fact that a lawful conviction of any prisoner for a life sentence in the prison or longer would result in the forfeit of any and all rights to whatever gold or titles the convicted had, and as such, the assets and all rights included would pass along to the heir of the accused, magical or otherwise. If however, there was no heir, the goblins would seize everything. It was this very reasoning that brought Griphook to one of the most dreaded places in the world, the wizarding prison of Azkaban.
Few knew that he had been the account manager of the Black family for several years, and under the authority of the new Lord Potter, he now had even more reason to be here.
Disembarking the boat, Griphook had felt that familiar chill that had run down his spine so many years ago. As most did, he hated the dementors of Azkaban. But strangely, he also pitied them. Goblins were a very long lived race, and Griphook had known the story of their curse since he was young. 'Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Pride comes before every fall, and it is most befitting that you pitiful creatures must survive off of what you once despised, feared by your own brethren,' the goblin thought to himself as the new curse breaker Bill Weasley stepped up beside him and cast a patronus charm to keep the dementors at bay.
"Griphook, I still don't understand why we are here. Everyone knows that this man is a convicted murderer, and his will should be void," Bill said as his sphinx patronus erupted from his wand, casting an immediate warmth on them both before it circled ahead of them, clearing the path to the auror outpost.
"Mr. Weasley, you are one of our brightest new curse breakers and you are here only for my protection. As such, I advise you to keep quiet about things that not only do not concern you, but you have no truthful and relevant facts regarding," Griphook snapped at the young wizard.
Seeing the man rear back in shock at his words, Griphook scowled. Perhaps his words had been a little too harsh, but the wizard should have kept his mouth shut. "Mr. Weasley, I understand your concern for this case. However, the murderer you speak of does not exist. The traitor that committed those murders committed one short of what the man we have come to see today was accused of. Sirius Black is innocent, and all of our tests and several powerful truth serums and spells have proved that fact beyond even the slightest shadow of a doubt. Your ministry sent an innocent man to prison without a trial, with the head of the wizengamot fully knowing that a small dose of veritaserum would have proven his innocence. Since then, the goblins have given copies of our records of the tests and his testimony to your ministry, but that corrupt fool, Cornelius Fudge, refuses to admit his mistakes."
Bill Weasley couldn't believe his ears. For the last decade, the wizarding world had cursed the mass murderer Sirius Black for betraying the Potters, and killing another of his childhood friends, Peter Pettigrew. Not to mention an alley full of muggles along with Pettigrew. Not including the Potters, the blood of thirteen people was on the hands of Sirius Black, and all from one spell. None of what Griphook was saying made any sense. Bill had no doubts that Sirius had been sent to Azkaban without a trial, it sounded just like Fudge, and Barty Crouch certainly would have done it, but Griphook accused Albus Dumbledore of being incompetent. How could Dumbledore have known if Sirius was innocent or not?
"Griphook, Sirius Black betrayed his best friends. Everyone knows that he's the reason they are dead. And what about Peter Pettigrew? He didn't fall dead of his own accord did he?" Bill asked, sure that the goblin wouldn't be able to avoid these facts.
Griphook turned his head towards the redhead just as they reached the auror outpost and glared at him. "Mr. Weasley, Sirius Black did nothing of the sort. The facts that the wizarding world claims to know are lies, covered up by the ministry even after the minister himself was given proof of it!" By now, Griphook was furious, he had always liked the young Sirius Black, and now, because of the foolish humans' belief in their corrupt ministry, the man had endured ten long years in this horrid place.
"As for Peter Pettigrew, he is alive. Gringotts records indicate this, though his vaults have not been touched in ten years. Sirius Black revealed that he is an unregistered rat animagus that should now be missing a single toe."
At the last statement, a chill ran down Bill's spine, before he brushed the thoughts aside. Surely it couldn't be, but even as he thought this, Bill Weasley had to admit to himself that he had often wondered how Scabbers, who by no means appeared magical at all, had lived so long. An ordinary rat could only last a few years, yet if Bill remembered correctly, he had found him not two weeks after Voldemort was destroyed ten years ago. Bill's scowl deepened, as a young child he had known that his parents were members of the Order of the Phoenix, and had even seen Pettigrew a few times. Something had always seemed a bit off about that man. Bill silently vowed to himself that he would make a visit to the Burrow to either confirm, or deny his suspicions. Hopefully Ron would forgive him for it, the boy loved that rat.
"Still, where does Dumbledore come into this? He has been head of the wizengamot for several years, and he knew the Potters, Sirius, and Peter very well. How could he have known if Sirius was innocent or not?" Bill replied, surprised at the vicious grin the Griphook was now displaying. The grin widened with each word that passed Bill's lips.
"Because, Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore is the one who cast the Fidelius charm that hid the Potters, and as such, he had full knowledge of whom the secret keeper was. Now come along, we are on a tight time schedule," Griphook said nastily.
Bill couldn't believe his ears. Everything that Griphook had told him strangely made sense, but why would Dumbledore lie to the world like that, knowing the truth? Did he believe that Sirius murdered Peter, and deserved his fate? Or was there something else up the old man's sleeve? The Weasley's had always liked and trusted Dumbledore a great deal, so this was no small blow to that, but what could Dumbledore possibly have to gain by condemning an innocent man to such a fate?
Bill soon found himself walking down a corridor, following an auror and Griphook. He hadn't been paying attention as he was lost in his thoughts, and barely recognized, until now, how dark and dreary this place was. The small group passed many cells, and Bill could see many dementors patrolling the hallways and other corridors as they passed. Though the patroni cast by him and the auror kept them at bay, Bill still felt the horrible, ice cold chill run through his nerves, draining him of happiness, sapping at his powers.
'No wonder they call this place the Island of Sorrow' Bill thought to himself. He would much rather be in Egypt right now. At least the tombs didn't give him such dreadful feelings.
Bill noticed the unnerving, insane looks in the unhealthy, sunken eyes of infamous death eaters such as Bellatrix Lestrange, the Carrows twins, and Anton Dolohov as they passed by their small cells.
Here in the maximum security block, it was a who's who of You-Know-Who's best and deadliest. Each prisoner was subjected to the direct presence of the cursed guards of Azkaban several times each day, and before long, many of them went insane, haunted by memories of their own crimes and other horrible memories inflicted upon them in the course of their lives. It was said, that after being subjected to the effects of the dementors for too long, a witch's or wizard's very powers began to leave them, right along with their sanity.
Bill wasn't surprised that Bellatrix didn't seem insane, even after more than a decade of imprisonment. She even taunted them as they went by and earned herself a stunner to the chest.
Seeing his look of surprise the auror turned to Bill and answered the unspoken question hanging in the air between them. "We sometimes have to stun her several times a week. She was always quite mad. I don't suppose there was enough sanity left by the time she came here. Well, that and the fact that she truly enjoyed the atrocities she committed have left very few memories that can bother such a disturbed mind. The only times when she screams are when she is moaning about failing her beloved master. Heh, I honestly don't want to ever see the pictures of those thoughts running through her head, the way she looks on those days. She just sits there, staring off into nowhere, on her knees, begging for forgiveness. It's been happening more often just recently. I guess the dementors effect even the most powerful of You-Know-Who's servants in the end."
Somehow, Bill wasn't all that surprised. Bellatrix was You-Know-Who's second in command, and a truly feared duelist. Anyone who had ever had the misfortune to meet the mad witch and lived to tell the tale, which was not many, could tell you how much glee it gave her to torture innocent souls. She got as much a kick out of it as her beloved, sick, twisted, and truly vile master she groveled at the feet of. Bill didn't even want to consider some of the stories he had heard to be true. How could anyone torture and kill a whole primary school of children and teachers, and rape several of the young boys, dead and alive? What kind of monster could relish such a memory?
Bill knew this story had to be true though, because during a major assault on Hogsmeade, she had brought such a young, muggle boy with her and led several aurors into a trap. Bellatrix had told the boy what was going to happen, and then silenced him before imperiousing him to stumble into the middle of Hogsmeade helpless. He appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the village beaten, raped, and with several cuts, bruises, and broken bones all over his body. Horrified, several people had screamed and ran to help him, but as a few of the aurors guarding the village approached him, Bellatrix's time delayed Bombarda Maxima curse took effect.
Bill shuddered at the memory. He had been with his parents in the village that day getting some candy. They were among the few that survived. Bill clung to his mother like his life depended on it when the explosion hit, signaling the beginning of the death eater's attack. That day, Bill saw death, torture, and the lowest depths of human cruelty as the death eaters struck innocents mercilessly. They didn't seem to care who you were. Innocent witches, wizard, aurors, and even several children were murdered in cold blood. All in all, only seven death eaters were captured, two of them dead. The body count for the light stood at twenty six aurors and one hundred seventeen non-combatants. For as long as he lived, Bill would never forget that day, or the look on the poor boy's face as he desperately mouthed 'Stay Away!' at Bill when he started to run to him. He owed the boy his life.
It was that day that Bill Weasley gained the motivation to be the greatest curse breaker the world had ever seen. He would never allow another to suffer like that.
"Ah, here we are," the auror said, surprising Bill out of his thoughts. "May I introduce our esteemed and traitorous guest, notorious mass murderer, and best friend of James and Lily Potter, Sirius Orion Black? He's the strangest one I have seen so far. Black looks as mad as the rest of them, but he's always very calm and well behaved. Good luck trying to reach him; no one has been able to get a word out of him in several years."
"Very well," Griphook said. "Can my assistant and I have a bit of privacy with the prisoner?"
Startled by the reply, the auror quickly answered, "Of course! I will be just down the hallway checking on a few of the other prisoners. Mr. Weasley, have your patronus give me a message when you are both ready to depart." Bill nodded.
As he turned to go, the auror gave a shiver. "Sometimes, I wish I hadn't become an auror. I have always fought for what I believe is right, of course, but this really is a wretched place. I can't wait until the last day of my six month assignment."
Bill nodded at the auror and watched him walk away before he heard a voice speak calmly from the darkness, scaring the hell out of him. He normally paid more attention than he was, Bill scolded himself. 'This place must be getting to me more than I thought.'
"Griphook, old friend. It is very good to see you again after all these years. I wish that I could play a gracious host, but I fear this is not the best of circumstances," Sirius said with a grin. Sirius Black, Bill noted, had the faded features of a once proud, handsome man. The years hadn't been kind to him though, not in this accursed place. His dark and sunken eyes betrayed a haunted and pained look, and he was pale and very thin. Still, you could tell that he had once been a proud, intelligent, and handsome man.
"We are agreed, Lord Black," Griphook replied. "I have come to discuss your last will and testament, which you signed and filed on the 5th of November, 1981, shortly after your arrest. Under normal circumstances, your will would become null and void, as you well know. Since however, we are executing your will while you still live, although incarcerated, we need your signature in order to proceed."
"I take it my godson has finally rejoined the magical world?" Sirius asked.
"That is correct," Griphook replied calmly. "Lord Harry Potter has laid claim on several different vaults and titles. Your godson is an amazing wizard, Lord Black."
Sirius Black grinned heartily, a look of fierce pride, like that of a lioness for her cub, showing brightly in his eyes. "Where has he been all this time? As far as the wizarding world knew, he had disappeared deep into hiding."
Griphook shifted uncomfortably. After all the years serving Lord Black and his family, he knew full well what he would think of Albus Dumbledore's actions. "Lord Dumbledore sent him to live with his only remaining relatives, a Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley."
"What!" Sirius roared. "That manipulative bastard knows full well what James and Lily thought of the Dursley's. Greater good be damned! Did he ever realize what kind of miserable life he was condemning my godson to? I'll murder him! It was in their will! Harry had several other people to go to, and under no circumstances was Harry ever to go to the Dursley's. Dumbledore knows this; we were both there when the will was signed. They hate us! I can't even begin to imagine the lies they've told him about his own parents."
Griphook looked shocked. "I don't believe that is possible, Lord Black. I have seen the will with my own eyes and it specifically names Albus Dumbledore as the sole executor of the Potter's will and states quite clearly that the young Lord Potter was to live with his only living relatives until his 17th birthday, in order to maintain the blood wards that protect him.
"That is a lie!" growled Sirius. His eyes blazed with a burning fury that grew with each word that passed Griphook's lips. "You, what is your name?" he asked, pointing at Bill.
"Bill Weasley, sir. I am a curse breaker and warder for Gringotts," he answered quickly, wondering where this was going. Bill had a bad feeling about this. His family had always stood firm behind Albus Dumbledore, yet this Sirius Black was accusing him of falsifying official documents in order to control Harry Potter's life.
"Do you have your wand? And a vial?"
Bill looked uneasy at the line of questioning. "Of course, but I can't give you either of them," Bill replied.
"There is no need. Are you willing to do the right thing, no matter what kind of damage it could do to your so called leader of the light?" Sirius asked. Looking into the young man's eyes, Sirius could see his warring emotions. Sirius remembered Arthur and Molly Weasley well, and he knew that the Weasley's were firmly loyal to Dumbledore, but this young man also looked like he knew a few things that he had opened his eyes, and was willing to see justice done.
"I am willing, Lord Black. What do you need?"
"I need you to take a memory from me. Please, don't fear getting close to the bars to get it. I am innocent after all, and I won't hurt you. I have fought against the dark and my own family's beliefs all of my life, and I would do anything in order to help my godson," Sirius was practically begging by now. "Please do this for me. I know how hard it must be to trust the words of a man sent to Azkaban for murder, but Harry is the only thing that I have left in my life, the only part of my greatest friends. He is the only one I have to live for."
After a moment's pause, Bill hesitated, carefully considering Sirius' words, before stepping forward to the cell and putting his wand to Sirius's temple. A second later, a silvery strand of memory emerged, hanging on the tip of his wand, and Bill placed it in a vial that he then replaced into a deep pocket on the inside of his robes.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Weasley," Sirius said calmly, reaching his hand out to shake Bill's.
Bill simply nodded as he took Sirius's hand, shaking it firmly.
"Lord Black, we at Gringotts will look over this memory, and if what you have said is true, there will repercussions, I assure you," Griphook stated with a malicious grin at the thought of what they now had in their possession.
"Thank you, old friend. After all the years working together, I knew that I could count on you," Sirius replied sadly. "I wish that we could continue, but soon that choice will no longer be mine to make."
"You have been a goblin friend for many years, Lord Black. It has been an honor working with you." Griphook gave a short bow to Sirius and when he raised his head, Sirius had a look of shocked confusion at the glee on the goblin's face.
Sirius scowled at Griphook. "Are you that eager to be rid of me, Griphook?"
"Absolutely not, Lord Black," Griphook answered with a broad grin. "It so happens that Lord Potter has asked me to manage all of his vaults, except for the vault of Emrys of course."
"Really? That's bloody brilliant! Harry couldn't have asked for a goblin better suited for the job," Sirius said.
"Thank you, Lord Black. It means much to hear you say that," Griphook replied.
"Think nothing of it, Griphook. The compliment is well deserved. You may be greedy, but I am a very wealthy man for it." Sirius laughed at Griphook's scowl.
"Yes, time is galleons, of course," Griphook replied with a small smirk.
"Oh, and did you say the vault of Emrys a minute ago? As in Merlin Emrys?" Sirius asked.
"That is correct. Lord Potter is the sole heir of several noble and ancient families. The House of Emrys is among them and at this moment, I believe that your godson now wears Merlin's own head of house ring."
Sirius was stunned. 'Harry is the bloody heir of Merlin! How is that possible? Merlin died without any children.' "Are you positive about this, Griphook?"
"One hundred percent, Lord Black. It is affirmative. Lord Potter underwent the bloodline and ability revelation rituals. I have it on good authority that the young Lord Potter wishes this fact to remain a closely guarded secret for as long as possible," Griphook answered firmly.
"Of course, I agree with him. You never know who could be looking to try to use such a thing against him."
"Well, as much as I enjoy our conversations, Lord Black, I must be going fairly soon. I have many other matters to attend to before the reading of your will tomorrow morning at 10 am."
"That is understandable. I enjoyed your visit, I don't get that many," Sirius said as he signed the paperwork so that Griphook and Bill could leave.
"It has been an honor, Lord Black," Griphook replied, bowing. "Hopefully one day we will meet again under better conditions that will be more profitable."
"Of course, but this old dog would have to sneak past the dementors first." Sirius chuckled as he watched them leave.
As they left, Bill looked over at Griphook as he helped the goblin back into the boat. "Griphook, is this 'Lord Potter' that you called Sirius Black's godson Harry Potter?"
"Indeed. They are one and the same. A very interesting young wizard, not unlike yourself. A little headstrong, but humble. Very bright, and with an amazing amount of talent."
'The Harry Potter, hmm? Things just got a bit more interesting.' Bill thought to himself as he watched Azkaban disappear into the darkness of the horizon.
Sirius watched them leave quietly. Indeed, Padfoot was probably the only thing that had saved his sanity all these years. Dementors were blind and an animal's emotions were more primitive than a human's, so the dementors could barely sense Sirius when he was transformed. When they came near him, they merely assumed that the less complex emotions were simply caused by his growing madness, as so often happened with the other inmates. He had often thought of using his Animagus form to escape, but until now, he had no idea where his godson was or what he was up to. But Harry was eleven now and would be attending Hogwarts shortly and in the morning, he would become Lord Black, and Sirius will have facilitated a few drastic changes as his last orders as Lord Black. 'I wish I could be there, or at least see a pensieve memory of it. Cissy is going to be fuming! As if I would ever allow the spawn of Malfoy to be Lord Black. Oh, I would so love to be there when my surprises are unveiled.'
Sighing, Sirius lay back on the cot and looked around. His six by eight foot cell was dark and musty, and the walls were cold and smooth. Along with an old moldy blanket and a rotting pillow, the only other thing in the cell besides him was the loo. The ceiling was so low that he could barely stand straight without banging his head.
Just like almost every other night since he had been in Azkaban, Sirius Black cried himself to sleep, thinking of the horrible night that took away his best friends and his life. His final thought as he went to sleep was 'I should have been there. I'll never be late again.'
Shortly after midnight, there was a flash of fire that illuminated the cell, and Sirius barely caught the second flash of fire as he woke groggily. He thought he had seen a black and gold phoenix with Lily's eyes disappear from sitting right beside him. Deciding that it was a hopeful dream, Sirius momentarily dismissed his suspicions until he caught sight of a letter and a burning, gold and black phoenix feather under it.
Dear Padfoot,
I have been watching you. For ten years, you have been innocent. Ten long years you have carried the burden of guilt. It is not your fault they died. James and Lily died; fighting for what they believed is just and right. Although you may believe different, things would be far worse if you had been there. Lily might have lived for a little while longer, but Harry would not have been given the power to vanquish Voldemort.
That night gave the wizarding world a reason to celebrate, a reason to hope, even as you mourned the deaths of your best friends. Take pride in the fact that in your godson, hope was born in the darkness. A light will soon illuminate the greatest depths the magic has to reveal. All impossibilities shall soon be done by the blood of one of the nine divines. Dumbledore's time is at an end, and shortly he will step down and deliver us all into the hands of a much brighter light.
Believe this Padfoot, you must. A warrior has been born with great power, but he has known no love until recently. As one of the last links to the family that he lost, you must be strong in your guidance of him. His heart and soul are pure, but such power can have an awfully corrupting influence, especially on one so young. Take heart that your strength, wisdom, and friendship will be valued greatly by him. He has known a great deal of pain in his life, and only a father can influence the son to keep him from falling.
Stay strong, Padfoot. You will soon be free. On the next night that Moony howls, you must rejoin your godson.
Blazewing
P.S.
You did not make a mistake that night. Destiny cannot be denied.
Sirius was sobbing softly as he finished reading the letter and finally noticed a basket of meat pies, chicken, treacle tarts, and nut bread that had appeared. 'Who could possibly have sent all this? It had to have been one of our close friends, but why now, after all these years? No one else could have possibly known our secret.'
Whoever the letter and basket was from, Sirius vowed that he would do his best not to let Prongs and Lilyflower down. Silently, Sirius gazed up at the ceiling and thanked the mysterious Blazewing and began to promptly devour the food.
Unknown
Night had fallen and the air was cold and bitter as he swept north along the ridges. There was not a cloud in the starry sky as he soared high above the valleys and in between the peaks of the tallest mountains, peaks and ridges that had long been hidden from sight.
Far below, ancient trees hundreds of feet tall spanned several miles, hiding the ruins that lay near the western coast. Under starry sky, these ruins had been untouched by human hands for nearly a thousand years, long forgotten to history. This place was not important, at least not nearly as important as the few treasures entombed within. For this reason, he guarded this place, and flew over each night. The time was coming; he could feel it as his powerful wings took him deep into the ridges of the mountains.
Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, London
Harry awoke with a start. He could vividly recall a strange dream, not unlike the few he had once had of Voldemort, but this one had been different somehow, yet try as he might, Harry could not remember any details of the dream and dismissed it for the time being. Harry grinned at the head of blonde hair that was tickling his bare chest. Gabby was still sleeping peacefully, with her head nuzzling close to his chest.
Harry couldn't believe his luck. Two weeks ago he never would have thought that he would be this happy, and yet the past few days with Gabrielle had been the best of his life. After situating all their new things into their trunk, they had given up shopping, except for Florean Fortescue's ice cream. They had spent the last few days exploring Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, and a little ways into muggle London together, just getting to know each other.
Gabby was shy, but could be very excitable. She had a brilliant mind that could easily rival Hermione's, but without the unnatural learning drive. She was also very headstrong and independent, but being the youngest sister all her life had given her a love of being spoiled and taken care of. She was very much the fiery princess that Harry would likely need to keep him under control and keep him firmly grounded. Gabrielle and Fleur had always been very close, but although Gabby definitely had Fleur's love of shopping, she did not have her sister's pompous attitude. Harry liked that... a lot.
A hand on his cheek brought Harry out of his thoughts with a jerk. Looking down, he saw Gabby's face turned up towards his, with her sweet, early morning smile on her face. Smiling back, Harry leaned down a little for a kiss, which Gabby happily obliged.
"Good morning, love," Harry whispered in her ear.
"Mmm, g'morning," Gabby purred back, straddling his waist and leaning all the way forward to nuzzle her head in his neck while he wrapped his arms around her.
Neither one of them said anything more for a few minutes, as this little cuddling act had become routine. For almost a quarter of an hour they were both quiet, just enjoying holding each other and being held.
As Harry lay, holding his Gabby, he wished that his life could always be this peaceful. Although, some points of his life were getting better every day. Just look at the night before for instance.
~Flashback~
Harry and Gabby sat in a private booth in the corner of an upper class French restaurant in downtown London.
Gabby was anxious, but not at all enjoying the thought of meeting their guests tonight. Harry had told her a few stories of the Dursley's already, and although she was a very friendly person, Gabrielle would have loved nothing more than to transfigure them into shiny white mice and set a few nifflers on them. She looked to her side worriedly at Harry. He seemed quiet, and she could understand why, but he had told her before they arrived that he had a few things in mind that would set the Dursley's straight. The memory of the look of mischief as Harry's dazzling emerald eyes shown with cruel excitement brought a warm smile to Gabby's face as she watched a bony woman with a giraffe's neck following a man that would likely fill three chairs when sitting. Behind them, a very large boy about hers and Harry's age followed his parents to their booth. All in all, Gabby could easily see the masks of fake pleasantness that hid the truly vile people that they were.
Harry, on the other hand, looked calm and strangely resigned. While going over his assets he had noticed something peculiar in one of the titles to a muggle business that his parents had bought. If Harry wasn't very much mistaken, Grunnings Drills was the firm that his Uncle Vernon worked for and Harry owned it! All these years, the Dursley's had complained about how much Harry cost to keep under their roof, even though they very rarely spent anything on him, Harry was the one paying for everything they owned in the first place. It was Harry's money that was paying Uncle Vernon's wages.
Now, as Harry sat quietly beside Gabby, waiting for the Dursley's to arrive, he contemplated what he was here to do and carefully hid his anxiousness at wanting to see the Dursleys' reaction when they realized who had brought them to this lavish restaurant and why. Before long, his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar rude grunt. Looking up, Harry realized that he had failed to notice the Dursley's arrival.
"What are you doing here, boy?" Vernon asked gruffly with a scowl on his face. "And who is this little tramp beside you?"
Gabrielle's eyes flashed and her face grew dark as she fixed Vernon with a death glare. "How dare you!" she raged. "How can you think to judge me for something that you know nothing about? You vile, loathsome man. It is no wonder that Harry hates you so much. Tonight I daresay that he will give you everything that you have coming. You better be thankful that it is not my say, or I'd turn you into a toad. You call me a tramp? Look at your son and what you have done to him. He is fat, lazy, and undisciplined. He is a bully. Is any of that poundage muscle or is it all blubber? If I didn't already know better I would say that he's as much a helpless hog as he looks. Tell me, do you honestly think that he won't rape any girl he wants? Do you think that he knows he can lie to you and get away with anything he wants? You are pathetic. And you, Petunia. Have you given up being nosy and trying to pry into every one of your neighbors lives? You must really be miserable if their lives are more interesting to you than your own. What would you think if one of them walked in now and learned your deepest, darkest secret?"
Aunt Petunia had paled and her face turned white with horror, but Uncle Vernon, it seemed, was doing everything in his power to control his temper and hold his tongue. The effect on his face was obviously very funny to Harry and Gabby as they couldn't keep from snickering. They could both see his fury plainly as he fought to control his emotions. Vernon's face had went from normal to red, to purple, and back again several times before his logic won out.
"If you are one of them, then I daresay that your words aren't worth the breath you used to speak them, you little whore. I, on the other hand, have just learned that I will be getting a promotion at a very powerful firm. Why you are both sitting at the booth that we were led to is beyond me, but you can be sure that you will be forced to leave once my boss arrives. He was once a captain in the royal navy, and he will not put up with any of your foolishness," Vernon replied carefully.
Harry was furious. He wouldn't allow anyone to dare speak to his Gabby like that, whore indeed! Harry opened his mouth to tell Uncle Vernon off, but his first words were cut short by the arrival of Uncle Vernon's boss.
"Why hello, Vernon," the man said as he shook Uncle Vernon's hand. "Is this your wife and son that you speak so fondly of?"
"Hello, Ted. Yes they are. This is my wife Petunia and our son Dudley," Vernon replied as Petunia and Dudley both shook Ted's hand.
"And who is this?" Ted asked, nodding towards Harry and Gabrielle.
"The boy is my nephew, and his friend decided to come along with him to deliver us a message. They were just leaving," Vernon finished fixing a stare on them both.
"No, they can stay! The more the merrier, I say. After all, family and friends are very important. Now before we begin, we have to wait for one more person to arrive. Now what are your names?" Ted asked while taking a seat beside Harry and reaching his hand out.
"Harry, sir. Harry Potter. This is my Lady, Gabrielle Delacour Potter," Harry answered while taking the offered hand and watching Ted go speechless with shock.
"Oh my! Harry Potter, you say? I would say that it is an honor to meet you, young sir, but I am just a muggle. Even so, even we muggles have loads to be thankful to you for; after all You-Know-Who would have kept killing us off until we were under wizarding rule. I did, of course, know that the Potter family owned the majority of Grunnings, but I did not dare to dream that I would be meeting you personally."
Looking at Vernon, who was staring speechlessly in anger at Harry, Ted clapped him on the back. "Vernon, old boy! Why didn't you ever say anything about Harry? You've been hiding a gem! You should be proud to have him for a nephew. Most, if not every family in our world would pay every galleon in their vault to be in your shoes. Harry Potter! My wife and I, and probably dozens of other families have wondered who was hiding him all these years. Bless you, Vernon! You have done the wizarding world a huge favor! Unfortunately it is not one that could ever be repaid in full, but I'd bet anything that you are probably going to end up being my boss pretty soon."
Harry looked at the delighted man's face. This was about the last thing he expected. The man clearly knew about the wizarding world, but how was a good question. "May I ask your name? And how do you know about magic?"
"Captain Ted Tonks at your service, Mr. Potter. My wife Andromeda and our daughter Nymphadora are both witches. If memory serves, your godfather, Sirius Black was Andromeda's cousin, so that makes us practically family."
"Wait, your wife is a Black?" Harry queried.
"She was, but Sirius's mother blasted her off the tapestry when she was disowned. Since then, it has been a matter of shame for the two ladies in my life," Ted replied as he bowed his head.
"Will you be at the will reading in the morning?"
Looking up, Ted nodded. "Yes, I will be there to support Andromeda and Nymphadora since they have been named in the will."
"Good," Harry said smiling.
Ted looked at Harry quizzically. "How is that such a good thing? Tomorrow morning is going to be devastating. The closest heir is the ponce son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy. Narcissa is Andromeda's sister and even more of a prude than your aunt looks to be."
"My aunt is a prude alright," Harry confirmed laughing. "I am and have always been my aunt and uncle's deepest darkest secret. To have a wizard in the family is, in their opinion, a matter of the deepest shame. I can't recall all the beatings, bruises, and broken bones they have given me. You were wrong a few minutes ago; I will never allow Vernon to be promoted. As a matter of fact, the only reason I am still going to allow him to work for me, with a heavy raise, is to keep the Dursley's as far away from me as possible. As for tomorrow, I think that you can look forward to it. There may be a few more surprises in store for you than you are aware of. For now though, we order."
Looking up, Ted and Vernon noticed the waiter bringing them a fine three hundred year old Scottish red wine on the rocks.
After their meal, Harry noticed all the Dursley's, especially Uncle Vernon, fixing him with stares, as if demanding to know why Harry had dared to bring them here, as they now knew that Harry owned Grunnings.
Harry bowed his head before raising his eyes to meet Uncle Vernon's. "You may as well speak your mind, Uncle Vernon," he said with a rough, hate filled voice.
"I was told I was here to be promoted, and now I have found out that was a lie. So why have you brought me here? You can't fire me. I have done nothing wrong, so I could sue you if you tried," Vernon said with a haughty manner.
"I can fire you, but I won't. It's simply not in my best interest or the best interest of my company. You are scum, a worthless piece of dirt as a human being, but as a director you do your job very well. I have looked over your file. Instead, what I am offering you is the chance to lead our expansion to our cousins across the Atlantic. All of your expenses including your flight, hotel, and new executive apartment in New York City will be paid for by us. The only thing I ask in return is to never see your face again. Do we have a deal?"
Uncle Vernon obviously couldn't decide whether to be furious and insulted, or delighted. "Let me get this straight, boy," he replied. "You are willing to give me a raise, and more authority, and pay for all of our expenses if I take this offer? All of it just to make sure you never see us again?"
Harry smiled cruelly. "That about sums it up. I hate you more than you could ever hate me. For all the years of hell you put me through, I should run you off to Antarctica, or perhaps ruin the reputation that you have so carefully built with your lies and false pleasantries. I won't do either, though. By doing it this way, we both get what we want and never have to see each other again, and I don't have to put up with whatever stupid things you decide to do as revenge for me ruining your lives. I will warn you though. I normally believe in doing the right thing, but just in case you ever forget our little chat here tonight and think about coming back, remember that if I find out, I will hunt you down and torture you all very slowly for the years of abuse you put me through. Then I will kill you, and believe me I can and will get away with it. Are we clear?"
Harry sat enjoying the effects that his words had on his Uncle. On one side, his dreams were coming true. He would have a very wealthy lifestyle and control the whole American expansion of Grunnings, and he would be rid of Harry forever. On the other hand, he hated the fact that Harry was the cause of it. He controlled his career and his whole life at the moment. Then, if you please, the pathetic child dared to threaten him and his family! The nerve of his nephew! Harry watched as the vein in Uncle Vernon's forehead twitched and his beady little eyes fixed themselves on Harry.
"Crystal clear, boy. But make sure you don't change your mind. This may be the only thing we ever agree on."
"Don't worry," Harry replied as he stared down his Uncle. "I won't ever change my mind. And no matter what you do, you will have the job until the day you die or retire. I know how obsessed you are with your work so I know that even your lazy fat arse will make the company prosper. Now, since our meeting is over, you can all leave. I'll pick up the bill."
The Dursley's got up to go, leaving Harry and Gabrielle alone at the booth, as Mr. Tonks had left shortly after the meal so that Harry could have his chat with his family in private. Before they turned to leave, however, Vernon asked Harry, "So when do I begin? When do we leave for our new home?"
Smiling, Harry answered, "Your plane tickets will arrive in the mail tomorrow morning. As soon as you are in New York, you are to go to the address on this card," Harry replied, handing Uncle Vernon a business card. "You will start immediately the morning after you arrive."
"Good, the sooner the better. This country is going to the dogs anyways."
"Goodbye, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia. And Dudley, they've already ruined you, so try not to land yourself in prison right off the bat. The Americans are very prejudiced and they love to throw everyone in prison just to make money off of them. Honestly, all of their pathetic and hypocritical laws that I have heard about tend to be a bit ridiculous. Hell, they have laws telling people what they can and can't do with their own bodies. Nahh, I'd rather never go there. They create their own criminals out of otherwise decent people there." Harry watched as the Dursley's left, amused and unsurprised at the look of horror on his cousin's face.
Satisfied, Harry glanced at Gabby, who seemed amused. "Harry, they are your family. You know that right?"
Harry scoffed. "Well, they sure as hell never treated me like it. What are you trying to get at?"
Gabby remained silent for a moment, enjoying her game. Harry, on the other hand, was confused and looked at her questioningly, though she kept a mask of innocence on. At least until she smiled and said, "If my family had ever treated me like that, I would have hexed them until they thought they were little girls for the rest of their lives. But two pigs and an arse would have worked too."
Harry and Gabby both broke down laughing, making the couple at the table they were passing on their way out look curiously at them. "Two pigs? My uncle makes more of an arse of himself than my aunt does."
"But have you seen your aunt's face? It is hideous. And that neck. She was made to be a donkey."
"Then I guess it is too bad that we will never be able to make her the offer in person. I'm sure that she would be delighted for two freak children to give her four hooves and a couple of ears that would be perfect for spying on her neighbors."
Gabby raised her eyebrows. "Freak children?"
Stopping and squeezing Gabby's hand just before he apparated them back to the Leaky Cauldron; Harry replied in a cold voice, "I meant us, Gabby. I was never Harry to them. Hell, until I was five I thought my name was either Freak or Boy."
Looking down, tears had welled up in Gabby's eyes as she stared at the ground in disbelief. "I'm sorry, it's just... I mean... I didn't...," she stuttered out through her tears as she looked at Harry in anguish.
Harry shushed her, gently placing his finger on her lips as he looked around to make sure nobody was observing them. "Don't worry. It's ok, Gabby." Holding her close and comforting her, Harry kissed her on the head and apparated them back to their room in the Leaky Cauldron with a silent pop.
Sitting down beside Gabby, he looked at her as she buried her head in his chest, sobbing. It felt a bit strange. Everything lately had been a bit new, and Harry was used to Hermione's hysterics, but he could honestly say that he had never felt that anyone cared as much about him as the beautiful blonde girl in his arms. Not even Hermione or Ron had been nearly this upset when he told them bits about how he had been treated by the Dursley's.
"Gabby, are you alright?," Harry asked worriedly.
Gabby had gone silent for a few moments as she sat leaning into Harry, lost in her thoughts. When Harry's voice brought her out of it, she looked into those magnificent emerald green eyes and saw the love and concern there. But why would he be concerned about her? It was because of what he had been forced to go through and endure that she was upset, other than that, she was fine.
"I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
Stroking his hand through her soft hair, Harry chose his words carefully before answering. "Well, for the last fifteen minutes you were sobbing into my chest, and I can understand where that came from. But then you got really quiet and had a weird look on your face."
"Oh. I was just thinking about what it would have been like if I didn't have my family. Being a veela, I can imagine what kind of cruel life I would have had being raised by another family, especially in Britain. But it's wrong for family to treat you that way. Why did they? I mean, you never hurt them did you?"
Harry sighed. Obviously he didn't enjoy the direction the conversation was turning. "I never hurt them."
Hearing the coldness in Harry's voice, Gabby shrank away from him at first, but he squeezed her hand and gave her a smile. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you, Gabby. Please don't ever be afraid of me. I would never do anything to hurt you."
Smiling, Gabrielle gave Harry a peck on the lips. "I know that, silly. I was just afraid that you got angry, thinking that I was accusing you of hurting them."
"No, that's not it. I have no problems hurting them, although that wouldn't be the right thing to do. Personally, I would find it very satisfying and well worth the effort. I just don't like being on the subject much. The Dursley's hate me, and you, for what we are. They are terrified of magic. Quite frankly, they hate everything to do with magic and anything abnormal or what would seem out of the ordinary for muggles."
"I guess they had some bad experiences with wizards, didn't they? I mean, they must have a really good reason for hating magic, and those affiliated with it so much."
"No, Aunt Petunia was always jealous of my mum. She filled Uncle Vernon's head full of lies about magic, not that he would have needed much convincing. He's as narrow minded as she is. She just gave him a viable excuse and outlet to blame his life and everything else on when things don't tend to go his way. A bit sad really, and a bit pathetic. Overgrown whale can't even man up and face things the way they are. Coward is what he is. You saw how he licks the polished boots of anyone superior to him."
Yawning, Gabrielle leaned back on the bed, looking up at Harry, who turned sideways with his hand beside her waist looking at her. "My papa has many people under him that are like that. So I have seen it many, many times. Isn't it ironic to you that you hate him so, and yet your shoes are the ones that he has to kiss now? And you could have put him in his place, but you sent him away, with a promotion no less! Do you not think that your decision will inflate his ego even more?"
Tracing Gabby's lips with a finger, Harry leaned in and brushed her forehead with his lips before kissing her full on the lips. Harry knew full well that at their age, there was no way that their hormones were raging, but as he breathed in her scent, the smell of wild blueberries and jasmine in her hair, and the faintest taste of strawberries mixed with something that he couldn't quite describe, something exquisite that was all Gabby, only her, he could have sworn a wizard's oath to lay down his wand forever and leave the wizarding world to the end that it brought upon itself, if only he could spirit her far away somewhere and never leave the moment behind.
Sadly, Harry knew that he couldn't do that. Harry was a warrior, and if Hermione had her say in it, he had a bit of a saving people thing going on. The truth was, Harry couldn't just leave it like that. It was his life, his destiny, if you believe in fate. True, Harry refused to let anyone, which included Fate, run his life. He made his own decisions. Harry was the one that had to follow through with everything he chose to do, nobody else was in his shoes. Still, Harry knew that what he wanted could not come true until Voldemort was dealt with permanently. It wouldn't be easy, but it would be the right path, the right thing to do. He didn't want his children to grow up in a world away from everyone else, or in a world full of fear of what Voldemort would do next.
His parents gave their lives so that he could live, and make a difference. They fought for what they believed in, and they died for it. Talking to them while in between, Harry had gotten to know them, and know that they had no regrets. From them, he learned that he had nothing to fear, especially not death. There would always be those like Voldemort, or worse. But there would also always be people like Harry, who had the courage to stand and fight for what they believed in and what was right, and lay down their lives if it came to it, in order to preserve a world and make it better for the ones they love.
Harry didn't want to fight, but he knew that at one point, he would have to. Sometimes a hero's job was just to rescue people, or show them the way, but sometimes, a hero's job was to stand tall, in front of the masses, at the front lines, and lead a world that had, by its own actions, led itself to the darkness, back to the light. Harry didn't like it, but for some reason, Fate had deemed that he be born for the job. The wizarding world had long seemed content to allow its problems to stew unattended, as long as it didn't effect them directly, but that very view had allowed Gellert Grindelwald, followed by Tom Riddle, and many others before them, to rise to power. Through the ages, the wizarding world never took the fight to the Dark Lords, until the Dark Lords struck first, and in the open for the public to see. Only then would the Ministry of Magic strike back, and by then it was always too late. It was, and always had been, up to powerful leaders of the light to strike down each consecutive Dark Lord, and now, it was Harry's turn. Voldemort, the most feared Dark Lord in a thousand years, the Heir of Salazar Slytherin himself, and Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, the Heir of Merlin himself, in whose veins ran the blood of one of the nine divines, had a score to settle.
"Harry, hello? Are you listening?" Gabby was shaking Harry by the arm.
Being shook out of his thoughts, Harry looked at Gabby, and gave her a smile to comfort the worry that was clear in her eyes. "I'm fine, sorry. I was lost in my thoughts for a moment. The answer to your question is no. There is no love lost between Uncle Vernon and me. We both know the reasons I sent them away, and he knows that it is nothing that he can or should be proud of. He also knows that if he causes any trouble, I will personally guarantee that if he survives, which is a long shot, he will be on the streets for the rest of his miserable life."
"I guess you have a good point. You know, Sirius' will reading is in the morning. Don't you think we should be trying to get some sleep sometime before then?" Gabby said while looking Harry up and down while she got under the sheets and raised them up so that Harry could lie down beside her.
"Like what you see, Love?" Harry asked.
Gabby giggled and blushed. "Love it."
Chuckling, Harry crawled in beside her and tickled her sides, enjoying the squeals he got from her. "Stop it! We need some sleep," she said laughing as she nuzzled his neck.
"Okay, fine. Goodnight, Gabby." Harry shivered as she breathed on his neck. It tickled, but it felt good, and sent a shiver straight down his spine, and ran along every nerve ending in his body, making them tingle with warm fire. "Goodnight, love," he whispered in her ear.
"Goodnight, Mon chéri," Gabrielle answered back while trying to stifle a yawn.
~End Flashback~
"Gabby, we should be getting up; the will reading is in less than two hours. We should be getting ready so we can grab some breakfast before we go."