Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Caduceus

Story Summary:
Sirius has died, and as Harry struggles with his guilt, new neighbors move in across the street on Privet Drive. But this foreign family from the Middle East has a very beautiful daughter, and she's taken a liking to Harry. But just as Harry must hide his own true identity, so too are the secrets that run deep within the Darbinyan family - secrets of death, secrets of life, secrets that will unwittingly guide Harry to rebirth, and the ultimate discovery of how Voldemort must be defeated.

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming 11

Chapter Summary:
Gabriella’s alive, but Harry returns to Grimmauld Place only to wish he were dead. Somehow he can’t tell his friends that he loves a Muggle. Instead, Harry must decide what to do with the Sirius fortune, Buckbeak, and the return of Kreacher. But, is that all Harry must worry about?
Posted:
06/30/2005
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3,515


Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 11 - An Unhappy Inheritance

~~~~***~~~~

It was dawn, but still quite early. The sky was a glowing deep purple and in the dim light it took Harry a moment to adjust his eyes and clear his head. He slipped on his glasses and patted the edge of his bed where Hedwig hopped to his side. He untied the post from her leg and held it in his hands. The dreams of the night before were washed from his mind as he looked at the writing. It was addressed simply: Harry, My Love. His heart began to pound. "This is silly," he thought. "Get a hold of yourself." Before he slipped the seal, he took in a deep breath and resigned to stay the course he had laid down. He would not be swayed. She was safer where she was and that was the end of that. Carefully, he opened the letter.

My dearest Harry,

Hedwig was in my room waiting for me when I got home. Mama asked why I was crying so, and I told her that you had gone. I saw them gathering your things through the window. It was Fred and George. I grabbed Fred when he came out; I think I frightened him a bit. (Tell him I'm sorry I was so rough.) He walked with me and we talked. He's not too bad, really; in fact, he's sweet. He says you'll be off to school soon.

You have nothing to be sorry for. There's nothing I would have ever done differently. You say you travel your path alone, but you don't. From what Fred tells me, there are many others who walk on either side. I'll be happy to stay a few steps back, for now if that's what you want. Don't think you'll get too far ahead--you won't. I'm keeping your heart and soul though. I've got this pretty little box Mama made to keep them in. I think you might be surprised how quickly you will have us all back.

I'm going to the store tomorrow to buy some decent food for Hedwig. I expect to see her again, and before too long. I asked Fred to let me keep one thing of yours -- just something to remember you by when I brush my hair at night. I hope you won't mind, but it's Padfoot's mirror. I guess if you do mind, you can come to get it.

I've glimpsed a bit into your heart, and if you look into mine you'll see that I will hold yours warm and safe in my little box. You'll also see that I love you, and will wait for you to return.

Love--now and forever,

Gabriella

He read the note several times, and with each reading his smile widened. He had thought of giving her the mirror himself, but it was foolishness to think he would use it to speak with her. He would do all he could to shield her from the Wizarding world. One day, they might reunite and just knowing that she had the mirror made him feel happier. Hedwig gave a little hoot.

"I'm sorry girl," he said. "All I have is a bit of bread. There might be some mice outside." She nipped at the piece of bread. "We're leaving to Grimmauld Place today. If you decide to wander off, meet me there, okay?" He stroked her feathers and she flew out the window. As soon as she left, Harry got up and put his clothes on. He winced as he pushed his arm through his T-shirt. His mind flashed back to when his body was sliding along the pavement. Looking at the bandages, he stretched the fingers on his right hand. He was lucky he even had an arm.

The basin by the mirror had been filled again with water. He splashed his face, ran his fingers through his hair, and toweled off. He put his glasses on and walked over to the flowers. He remembered the day he saw Gabriella looking at the flowers in her new garden and then he remembered his own loitering outside looking for weeds he knew weren't there. "Was she outside on purpose?" he wondered. "Waiting for me?" That moment, Mrs. Weasley entered his room.

"Good morning dear!" she said smiling. "Good, I see you're dressed. We can go now or after breakfast, which would you..."

"Let's go now. I just need to know... my wand?" he asked.

"Oh yes, I nearly forgot." She reached into a large handbag and pulled out his wand. "Here you go, dear." She paused and checked the room. "The twins have gathered all your other things and brought them to the house. Shall we go?" Harry looked around at the room, then up to the open window. The sun was starting to fill the frame. He nodded and walked out the door, Mrs. Weasley at his side.

St Mungo's was the same as he had remembered. He thought of the Longbottom's and touched his forehead. "What if this belonged to Neville instead?" he thought. As they walked down the corridor, they past a sign: ARTIFACT ACCIDENTS. "Mrs. Weasley?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry?" They entered the main atrium.

"Mr. Weasley had two others in his room with him. I was by myself. Why?"

"It was just safer, dear."


"So, I'm still being watched?" he asked coolly. Her face reddened.

"No one's been watching you; we've just been making sure you're safe, that's all."

"Because you think he's after me?" The pink in her face turned ashen. She nodded. "Do you know why?" he asked simply wondering what her answer might be. Instantly, the blood returned to her face, and fire lit her eyes. She placed one hand to Harry's cheek.

"He's pure evil Harry. Even when he was simply Tom he would never consider failure an option. Now he sees himself all-powerful and yet a mere child has bested him. Well, not so much a child anymore, are you?" She now had to look up to see his eyes. Pausing for a moment, she took his hand. "He won't stand for it. He'll risk all to rid the world of you, Harry. It'll be his ruin; I think we both know that. But, it also means we must be watchful. YOU must be watchful. This is not the year to go off wandering the grounds at night, or playing with giants in the Forbidden Forest." Harry's eyes widened. They stepped to the street where a limousine was there to take them to Grimmauld Place. She looked up and down the street. "We must all be extra careful this year." They stepped to the car and soon left St. Mungo's behind them.

When they walked through the front door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry stood awestruck. The first thing he noticed was the light. It wasn't dark and dingy but bright and airy. The next thing he noticed was the smell, or rather the lack of smell. The air was fresh, not dank and moldy. The first words out of his mouth were, "Where's his mother?"

"Oh yes, well, that required Dumbledore's help. He stopped by the house here only a few nights after... well, after Sirius had left us. The old hag began to scream bloody murder calling Sirius a mudblood lover and a traitor to Wizarding kind. I don't think I've ever seen Albus quite so angry. He simply raised his wand and she was gone. He hasn't said how or where. None of the Order could even get her unglued from the wall and believe me we all tried. Makes for a nice change, I think. Well, let's see who's here." She started forward to the kitchen door, but Harry's feet were somehow stuck to where he was. "Come on, dear."

He didn't want to move. He couldn't move. He felt weak; perspiration began to prickle on his forehead. It was suddenly very hard to breathe. He reached for the edge of the door as the room began to spin upside down. Mrs. Weasley quickly grabbed him by the arm just in time to stop him from collapsing to the floor.

"Harry, what's wrong?" He couldn't answer. The room's air had disappeared. His sight was failing; everything was turning dark. "Ron! Hermione!" he heard her yell as if from far, far away. Soon, everything was black.

A voice echoed from the darkness. "He's not gone you know, just on the other side." It was Luna Lovegood, but he couldn't see her. "The voices... didn't you hear them? If only we could find a way to see them. But you know the way, don't you, Harry? Can't you see the key? It's right here." But Harry couldn't see anything. "If anyone can find a way, Harry, you can. If you see my mother, tell her I miss her so." The voice was fading... "Harry, can you hear me..." Another voice broke the blackness.

"Harry! Can you hear me?"

It was Hermione. Cool air seemed to rush into his lungs; he could breathe again. Slowly his eyes opened. He was in bed in the room he had stayed the summer before. The same empty portrait of Phineas Nigellus hung on the wall opposite. The bed was bigger, and he looked up to find four faces staring down at him: Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Ron and Remus Lupin.

"I don't know," Mrs. Weasley spoke first. "Perhaps it was too early to bring him home. They said he'd had a bad night."

"Give him time, Molly," Remus replied. "Harry, how are you feeling?" Harry brought his head off his pillow. He was a bit confused.

"I'm okay," he said, not really sure how he felt. "I don't know what came over me," he lied. He knew exactly what it was. He knew before he'd walked through the door. It didn't matter how much Mrs. Weasley had cleaned. He didn't want to be here. The thought of Sirius hung in the air. It was part of the walls that still had the portraits of the Black family. It would be only a matter of time until he saw Sirius' photo again, as Moody had shown him the picture last year of his parents before they had been murdered.

"Here," Lupin said, "try this." He handed Harry a large bar of chocolate. Harry was still somewhat unsteady.

"Dementors?" he asked thinly.

"No," said Lupin with a smile, "great deal on Fizzing Fudgebars at Honneydukes. Then he turned to the others in the room. "What do you say we give Harry some time to rest?"

"No," Harry said taking a bite of chocolate, "I'm okay really."

"Now dear," said Mrs. Weasley taking Harry's hand, "they said you should just rest for a couple of days." Everyone began to file out of the room. He was desperate; he didn't want to be left alone, not here, not now.

"Remus?" he called. "Do you have a minute?" Remus returned and sat down in a new chair that was not in the room last year. Harry searched for something to say--anything. "Where's the other bed?" he asked.

"Well, Molly's spread things out a little. Fred and George aren't here this summer, Ron's in their room. She and Arthur are staying in," he paused, "in the master bedroom. Ginny and Hermione are still rooming upstairs. We haven't decided what to do with Buckbeak, yet." He shifted in his chair and looked uncomfortably at the empty portrait. "The fact is Harry we need to talk; I just don't think now's such a good time." Harry put the half-eaten chocolate bar on a small table next to his bed.

"All I have is time, Remus." His words were hollow.

"Then... then you should know that the Weasleys are only living here temporarily. It's Arthur's new position that puts him and his family at risk--just a precaution really. They were too exposed out at the Burrow." He paused, again searching for words to say. "Harry, Sirius has left the house to you. There's more than just the house; we found the papers downstairs after he died. Essentially all he had, all the Black family had goes to you, Harry."

Harry looked at the walls. They were clean, and looked freshly painted. The carpet, a light baby-blue, looked as if it had just been installed. Tears began to fill his eyes, and he looked to the ceiling. "I don't want it," he whispered.

"He didn't want it either," Lupin said kindly. "Too many memories... too many bad memories, really. But you have a chance to start some new ones Harry--maybe some good ones." Harry didn't answer; the tears were falling back on his pillow. "Well," Lupin said as he stood up, "you need to know it's yours. Molly's been waiting to get your permission to take care of a number of things. One of those is Buckbeak." He walked over to the window, the sun glowing off bright-white curtains. "You also need to know that there's more to the Black estate - other homes and, of course, an account at Gringotts. Well, not really an account, more like a fortune."

"I don't want it!" Harry yelled. "I don't want any of it!"

"Of course you don't, Harry. No good soul wants to come into money like that, but it's yours. It's never about how much, Harry. What you do with it, how you use it and to what purpose, that's what makes the difference." Remus walked over and sat at Harry's bedside. He took Harry's hand. "Your father and Sirius were my family. They were closer than brothers. I'd be dead now if it weren't for the two of them. Before Sirius died, I made a promise in case something should happen to him. I swore I'd watch out for you, and I will." He squeezed Harry's hand tight. "And I swear to you now, Harry. We will destroy those who took them away from us." For a moment, fire flashed in his eyes. Harry could make out the werewolf in Lupin's face, but the look soon softened and the grip on Harry's hand relaxed. "There is much to discuss, Harry, but not now. Now, you need to rest, if only for an hour." He started out of the room. "Ron and Hermione have missed you terribly. Perhaps, you could put on a face of reciprocation." He paused for a moment, looking down at his shoes. "Cherish your time with your friends, Harry. It is precious," he choked and left the room.

Harry turned on his side and cried. The tears soaked his pillow, and still he cried. All the money in Gringotts couldn't bring them back. All he would ever have was pictures. He held his bandaged hand flat against the wet white sheet. He needed her here; he felt so terribly alone -- it hurt.

Harry did not leave the room that morning. It was not until Mrs. Weasley came to the door that he lifted his head off the pillow. "Harry, dear," she said, "you really must eat something. I can bring it up if you'd like to be alone."

"I'll be down," he called. "Just give me a minute."

"Take all the time you need dear; we're not going anywhere today."

He sat up at the side of his bed. His hair was wet. He felt miserable. He walked over to the dresser where Mrs. Weasley had set a basin of water and fresh towels. On the wall was a mirror. He looked at his reflection. He not only felt miserable, he looked it. His face was puffy and his eyes swollen and red. His wet hair hung down limp like the greasy strings dangling from Snape's scalp. He took a towel and leaned over to dry his hair as best he could. "Get a hold of yourself, Harry," he thought. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, standing up with the towel over his face. His hands were flat against his cheeks, and his fingers gently pressed his eyes. He took a long deep breath, tossed the towel aside and reached for a brush in a hopeless attempt to set his hair straight. When he looked back to the mirror, he stood frozen.

The reflection looking him in the face was not there a minute ago. The puffiness was gone, the circles around his eyes were gone and, he leaned closer, the redness had disappeared. "That's impossible," he whispered. He looked down at his two hands turning them over in front of him. "Who are you?" he said out loud, and then, looking back at his reflection, he said "What are you?" He could hear his name being called from downstairs. "Coming!" he yelled. With his left hand he felt the bandages on his aching right arm. He reached for his wand in his back pocket. It wasn't there. He glanced across the room and saw it lying on his bedside table. It was some ten feet away, not much more than it had been last year. He held out his right hand. The door to his room creaked open and at the very same instant he called "Lumos!" The wand burst into a brilliant white light.

"It's true!" said Hermione standing at the door, a slight look of surprise on her face. Behind her, looking over her head stood Ron, his jaw hanging somewhere around his shoes.

"Bloody hell," was all he mustered.

Harry felt the fingers in his right hand begin to tingle. He made a small fist and stretched his hand, and the odd sensation disappeared. He knew they were standing there, but he wanted to try. He raised his hand again and commanded, "Accio wand!" Nothing happened. "Accio wand!" Again, nothing happened. "Well, not so spectacular is it?" He sighed and walked over to pick his wand up.

"Are you kidding?" Ron exclaimed. "That was fantastic. I mean... well... here." He put his own wand on the bedside table. He walked over to where Harry stood, held out his hand and called "Accio wand!" Nothing. "Accio wand!" Nothing. "Lumos!" Again, nothing. Hermione let out a great sigh. Ron glowered at her. "Well, let's see you try then!"

"I'm not going to try," she said. "I can't do it. I don't know of anyone that can, not like that. I mean, we all can do a little something without our wands, right?" Ron just looked at his shoes. "Magic slips out, usually when we're emotional or upset. Chants and incantations for charms or hexes require constant eye contact and tremendous concentration." She looked at Harry and shook her head and then repeated, "I don't know anyone who can do it like that. But I'll find out if there have been others when we get back to Hogwarts." The cogs of Hermione's mind began to turn. "It won't be in any of our old books. Maybe I can look while we're at Floursih and Blotts buying supplies." For a moment, Hermione was lost in concentration, then shook her head and returned to the present. "Let's go, Harry. You need to eat, and besides you know better than to..." A sudden flame burst in the center of the room, a note, and a tail feather... a phoenix tail feather. Harry grabbed the note.

Harry,

As much as I admire your capabilities, magic by students is forbidden outside of Hogwarts, with or without a wand. And please be sure to remind Mr. Weasley as well.

Headmaster Dumbledore

He stared at the note dumbfounded. "But how?" he whispered.

"How what, mate?" Ron took the note and read it. "Blimey, that's impossible! He's half-way around the world trying to recruit supporters." He looked at Hermione. "It's from Dumbledore, he knows Harry's done magic!" He handed her the note. She read it and shook her head.

"Well, however he knows, you're lucky Dumbledore's in charge again, Harry. You could have been expelled," she chastised. Ron rolled his eyes. "And that goes for you too, you know," she added.

"I'm hungry," was all Harry could say. "Let's eat."

The three made their way down the stairs to the kitchen. The smell of browning sausages and roasted potatoes filled the air.

"Well, it's about time," Mrs. Weasley scorned. Then turning to Harry and directing him to a chair she asked consolingly, "Are you feeling alright, dear?"

"Much better, thanks." Mrs. Weasley filled their plates, and they began to eat. Harry was famished. It was the first time he could remember asking for a second plate before Ron. Half way through he noticed. "Where are the others, Remus and Ginny?"

"Remus had some work to take care of," Mrs. Weasley said, "and Ginny's visiting the Thomas's."

"The who?" he asked.

"Dean," injected Hermione. "She's visiting Dean and his family. They're traveling up on the... Well, on vacation."

"Is that safe?" Harry asked.

"Exactly what I said Harry." Ron jumped in. "Traipsing off all over the country when You-Know-Who's trying to kill us all."

"Oh, Ron," Mrs. Weasley scolded, "be quiet. You know perfectly well Mad-Eye's with them, and if he's there, nothing's going to happen." Ron seemed to slump somewhat.

"It's just not..."

"Ron," Hermione interrupted, "we've been over this time and time again. I know Harry hasn't heard it all, but would you please wait until later so I don't have to hear it again for the two-hundredth time?" Ron just sat and sulked.

The afternoon was growing late. Harry had had his fill, and was feeling somewhat tired again. His head still didn't seem to be on all the way straight. He sat up off the bench and started to the door. "I'm sorry, but I think I'll rest for a bit."

"Hey mate, you dropped something." Ron reached to the floor, and picked up a small white folded envelope. Harry's heart skipped. It had fallen from his back pocket.

"Oh, yeah, that's mine." Harry walked briskly to snatch it from his hand just as Ron was pulling the folded paper closer to his face.

"...my Love," he read out loud before Harry had a chance to tear it from his hands. Harry quickly slipped it back into his pocket and began to walk to the door. But before he made his escape Ron queried, "My Love, what?"

"I don't know, just found it at St Mungo's." Harry was grasping for ideas to cover his tracks.

"Found it?" Ron asked again blankly. "Well, then, let's have a look. Might be kind of fun. Have you read it already?" He stood up and was walking toward Harry, when Hermione stood up blocking his path.

"Come on, Ron," she said. "You heard Harry. He's tired. Let him rest."

"Yes, Ron," Mrs. Weasley added to Harry's defense. "Leave the poor boy alone. Go on Harry. Ron, you can help wash these dishes and make sure they clean themselves properly this time." She waved her wand and brushes began to soap the plates in the sink. Ron sighed and sulked over to the sink grabbing his wand and pointing it at a towel. "Come on Harry, let me walk you to your room."

"I'm alright, really."

"I know; there's just one thing I want to talk to you about." As they were climbing the stairs, she said. "You understand we're only here temporarily."

"I know, Remus told me," he replied.

"Yes, of course. And you know then that this... all of this... belongs to you." Harry nodded, swallowing hard. "I've tried to leave as much of Sirius in the house as I could. I wouldn't presume to know how you feel. I can take it all down or leave it all up, or anything in between. Just give the word, Harry, it's your house, and we're grateful we can stay here."

"You can have it," he said with an empty voice. "I don't... I don't..." He began to shake and Mrs. Weasley reached out and held him tight in both arms.

"I know, dear, I know. We'll get through this together; I promise you that. But, maybe you could promise me something?" She held him back and looked into his eyes. "Don't try it on your own, Harry. Have faith in those around you, those that love you, and those that you love. They'll bring you strength, Harry." She let go and escorted him into his room rubbing his back.

She picked up the wet towel and scanned for anything else. "Fred and George brought your trunk last night. You have your broom and a few more items in the closet out in the hall. They say they had help making sure you got all your things. I guess it's about time that uncle of yours started acting like a human being. Later, I'm afraid, we need to discuss two more items... Buckbeak and Kreacher."

"Kreacher!" The hair on the back of Harry's neck rose instantly and he started for the door. Mrs. Weasley took his arm.

"Kreacher's dead, Harry. He came back to die. We think he returned to fulfill his one true dream of being mounted with the other house elves in the hall. Arthur has him in a box upstairs. We can't... well, it's not for us to decide, Harry."

The film in Harry's mind began to play again... Kreacher's betrayal, Harry's folly, Sirius' death. He wouldn't have the head mounted in the hall to remind him everyday of how Kreacher outsmarted him, of how he stood there and lied to his face, and how stupid Harry had been for believing only because he wanted Hermione to be wrong, only because he wanted to be right, to be the hero. He began to shake again. Mrs. Weasley walked him back to his bed and sat down beside him.

"I knew I should have waited, but Arthur wanted you to know the day you got home. He said that each day I waited would make it more difficult. Oh, Harry, I'm... I'm so sorry." She began to cry, holding him in her arms again. "I know you loved him; we all did in our own way, and now we all miss him so."

They sat there like that, the two, for some time. Finally, Mrs. Weasley stopped shedding tears, and Harry stopped shaking. Indeed, his eyes were quite dry. "You need to rest, dear. We'll talk more later." She stood up and made her way to the door, when Harry's voice stopped her.

"Mrs. Weasley?" he called. His voice was suddenly steady, but cold as ice. "Can you get the others off the wall? The other house elves?" Without turning to look at him she nodded. "I want them out of the house. Take Kreacher and all the rest, and get rid of them. I don't care if you give them a proper burial, burn them, or throw them in the dustbin. I don't give a damn. I... I never want to see a bloody house elf again! To hell with them all!"

Her back still toward Harry, another tear began to streak down Mrs. Weasley's face. "Yes, dear," she said calmly, closing the door behind her.