Stay Free

Chapter 8: Back at Grimmauld Place

Severus awoke early, feeling vaguely ill. He shook off the queasy feeling in his stomach, remembering that he needed to have a conversation with Lupin and Dumbledore today.

He stumbled down the stairs, swaying sleepily as he made his way down to the kitchen. Lupin was already sitting there, clutching a mug of coffee in two hands. He looked up when Severus entered.

"Morning," the werewolf said quietly.

"Morning," Severus said tersely. He was not a morning person. "Did you speak with Dumbledore?"

"Yes." Lupin's voice was rigid, and the grip on his coffee cup tightened. "Apologized for leaving Harry at Privet Drive, but didn't say anything else about it." He took a large gulp. "You have no idea how much I wanted to pummel the man into the ground for deserting Harry. I yelled at him for two hours straight before he sent me back here."

"You get to have another chat with the Headmaster today," said Severus brusquely. He poured himself a cup of coffee. No sugar or milk. "Potter had a very interesting dream last night."

Lupin started, making a bit of coffee tumble over the edge of the mug. "He had a dream? About what?"

"Black."

Lupin jerked again. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"Because you were probably asleep," Severus pointed out. He finished his coffee, wiping his mouth. "I was the one who was awakened by his hollering. I'm surprised you slept through it."

"Dumbledore gave me a Sleeping Draught," said Lupin, his head ducked down, almost in embarrassment. "He thought I needed it."

"Very well. I don't want to tell Potter's dream twice, so we're going to go visit the Headmaster," said Severus casually.

"Fine." Lupin shoved the mug away from him, standing up. His fists were clenched, his eyes harsh. "Let's go."

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in front of Dumbledore.

"Please explain Harry's dream to me, Severus," Dumbledore said, studying the two men in front of him with a stern expression. "Don't leave out any details."

So he did. Severus explained how Potter had awoken yelling and believing Black had come to him in his dreams. Lupin, who was sitting next to him, had grown pale as the story continued.

"And then he said something about a box under a tree in Godric's Hollow, at the Potter's old house," Severus finished, sitting back in his chair.

The Headmaster nodded as though this made perfect sense, and turned to Lupin. "Remus, did Sirius come to you in your dreams like Harry claims?"

Lupin was as white as Dumbledore's beard. "I...I think so," he said anxiously. "I don't remember much of my dreams, but he could have." He looked down at his hands, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Of course, it could have just been wishful thinking."

"But it's possible," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Would you two care to take a look for me? Fudge has been bombarding me with owls about the Dementors that are on the loose...Did you know they performed the Kiss on a Muggle child yesterday?"

"Yes," Lupin said quietly. "I read it in the papers."

"Enough about Dementors," Severus snapped. His hands were becoming cold and clammy just thinking about the things. "Should we go to Godric's Hollow, Lupin?"

Lupin shrugged. "Fine by me."

Dumbledore beamed. "Excellent. Here's a Portkey for Godric's Hollow--it was made when the Potters went into hiding, but it still works." He handed Lupin a worn and tattered copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to discuss something with the Minister..."

He strode over to the fireplace--which was already burning a sickly green colour that indicated Floo Powder had been thrown in--lifted his hat above his head in a salute, and stepped into the flames.

"Well," Lupin announced, clearing his throat, "should we be going, then?"

Severus held up his hand. "First of all, if there are any Death Eaters waiting to ambush anyone who goes nearby, let me do the talking. Though the Dark Lord doesn't trust me, my fellow Death Eaters don't mind me much."

"But won't they notice if I'm there?"

"You're a Dark Creature," said Severus smugly. "Therefore, it's possible you would follow the Dark Cause. You know, death to Mudbloods, down with Dumbledore, that whole thing--"

"I get it," Lupin interrupted. He held out the book. "And off we go."

Severus touched the book with one hand, and immediately felt the ground go beneath his feet. He spun in the swirls of colours and sounds, Lupin's elbow hitting him uncomfortably in his side, until he landed in a heap on cold, wet grass.

He sat up, took a look around, and winced.

They had landed directly in front of the Potter's old house; or, at least, what remained of it. When the Dark Lord had arrived fifteen years ago, he had completely destroyed the house. Except for burned remains of scraps of wood and a couple of trees, it was an empty plot of land.

"Haven't been here in awhile," said Lupin quietly.

Severus held up his hand again, his ears straining to hear any noises. "Avery?" he called out, his voice echoing in the empty air. "Dolohov? Lucius? Bellatrix? Any of you out there?"

He waited, but there was no answer. He spoke again.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting something, but Dumbledore made me come and check this out. Don't worry about the werewolf"--he jerked his thumb at Lupin--"because he's...er...feeling the pull of the Darkness inside of him..." he finished lamely.

"There's no one here, Severus," Lupin whispered. "I can't hear any other hearts beating, and nothing smells unfamiliar."

Severus shrugged. "Nothing wrong with being careful. Now, it was the big willow tree in the front, right?"

"Yes." Lupin was staring at the spot where the house used to be. "I never thought I'd be standing here again." He turned to the Potions Master. "Did you ever come here to see Lily?"

"A few times," Severus admitted, his insides beginning to squirm. "When James wasn't around. I suppose I was the only Death Eater--besides Wormtail, of course--who knew where the Potters were hiding."

"Yes," Lupin repeated. He was still looking at the empty space wistfully. "I haven't been here since that night."

"Me either." Severus coughed uncomfortably. "Listen, Lupin, let's just get the box, make sure it won't kill anyone, and get the hell out of here."

Lupin sighed heavily, but began walking towards the willow tree. Severus followed him, a hand clenching his wand inside the pocket of his cloak. He ducked underneath the branches, until he joined Lupin at the trunk.

"Let's see..." Lupin murmured, withdrawing his wand. He held it over the ground, and said clearly, "Sino mihi video."

The ground shimmered slightly, and a small transparent square appeared in the centre. Lupin continued to speak the Transparency Charm, his voice growing louder with each time. The flickering continued, until the entire ground was transparent.

"See anything?" Severus asked, peering through the roots and dirt. "Anything at all?"

"Nothing yet," Lupin reported. His face was screwed up in concentration. Suddenly, his expression brightened. "Hang on--"

Lupin waved his wand at a nearby chunk of charred wood, muttering a couple well-chosen words. It turned into a shovel with a quick burst of light. He immediately began digging around the base of the trunk, chucking large scoops of dirt over his shoulder.

Severus ducked as a good-sized dirt clod narrowly missed the side of his face. "Did you see it, Lupin?"

"No, I'm digging just for the hell of it," Lupin spat sarcastically, wiping sweat off his forehead. "You mind helping?"

"No, I think you're got it under control," Severus responded, crossing his arms and leaned against the tree. "For one so fragile and thin, Lupin, you've got more muscle than one would imagine."

"Werewolves have more strength than humans," Lupin explained, shoving the tip of the shovel into a thick root. "And because it's close to the full moon, that strength is at its peak." He poked the shovel into the root again. "Bollocks!"

Lupin grunted, throwing his entire weight onto the shovel. The root split in two, revealing the side of a small wooden chest.

Severus allowed a miniscule smile to spread across his features before kneeling down on the ground. He looked up at Lupin, saying, "Do you think this is it?"

"Yes," Lupin replied, breathing heavily. "Should I Summon it?"

Severus shook his head. "It's been under the ground for years, and there's probably charms on it. Let's not take any chances."

"You get it out," Lupin ordered. "I did the digging."

Severus grasped the edge of the box, wrapping his fingers along the sides, and gave it a good yank. The dirt below it shifted slightly and another inch of the box appeared.

After ten minutes of hard labour and intensive cursing, Severus finally pulled the box out of the ground. It was a reddish-brown colour, roughly ten inches long and five inches wide, and he could hold it in his hands comfortably. There was a clasp attached to the front.

"Wonder what's in here..." Severus muttered, turning the box over in his hands. He heard things sliding back and forth, but couldn't tell what they were. "Should we open it?"

"No. It was meant for Harry to open," Lupin said firmly. He held out a hand. "Let me see it."

Severus handed over the box to Lupin, who blew the dust off the top. He then raised it to his nose and sniffed. "Smells like Lily and James," he said after a moment, his eyes misting over. "They touched it last..." He sniffed it again, then nodded, satisfied. "Fifteen years ago, so that makes sense."

The werewolf's eyes widened. He fingered the clasp lightly, saying, "Look at the engraving."

Severus took the chest and peered at the clasp. A stag, a dog, a rat, and a wolf, standing under a full moon. On closer inspection, they were surrounded by lilies.

"This is definitely it."

* * *

"Hey," said Harry reproachfully, glancing at the hippogriff. Buckbeak was nuzzling his beak into Harry's shoulder, which didn't help him do his Potions work. Hermione had given him her essay, and Ron was now trying to get Charms answers from her. Because they were both still in the study, Harry supposed Ron's plan wasn't working so well. "Will you stop?"

Buckbeak looked hurt, and he retreated to the corner, ruffling his wings and curling up. Harry sighed, but returned to his work. Or, rather, copying Hermione's and hoping Snape wouldn't notice the scarce differences between the two.

Someone knocked on the door, causing Buckbeak to stir in his corner and glare at the door. Harry, still scribbling across a piece of parchment, said, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Malfoy stepped inside.

"What do you want?" Harry asked irritably. He finished his last paragraph, cast a Quick-Dry Spell onto the parchment, rolled it up, and stuck it into his schoolbag.

"Hate to break up the reunion between you and Buckbeak, but Snape and Lupin are back," Malfoy answered. "They want to talk to you." His eyes slid to the hippogriff in the corner.

"He's not going to eat you, Malfoy," Harry said, rolling his eyes and standing up. He winced as weight fell on his ankle; the potions Snape had given him were steadily wearing off. He walked to the door, still limping, and headed down the corridor.

He pushed open the door to see Snape and Remus sitting in separate chairs. A small wooden chest lay on the coffee table in front of them. At the sight of it, Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"What's inside of it?" Harry asked eagerly, stepping forward to sit in the armchair across from the box.

"We thought you should open it," Remus answered quietly. "But we know for a fact that it is the chest that Sirius told you about in your dream."

Harry ran a fingertip across the top, making himself shiver with excitement. The box was covered with a thin sheet of dust and dirt. "Do you have any idea what's inside?"

Both men shrugged. "Again, we thought you would like your privacy," Snape said.

Harry cleared his throat, and grasped the clasp. It felt cool in his fingertips, and once more, he felt a surge of excitement run through his veins. "Do you mind leaving me alone while I open this?"

"Certainly," Remus said immediately, and he stood up along with Snape. "If anything looks strange or odd, call us. We'll be in the kitchen."

"Okay," Harry said, staring at the chest. Remus left the room hurriedly, but Snape pulled something out of his robes.

"Potter, I made a short stop at Privet Drive," he said, holding up a paper bag. "The map, your father's cloak, a chunk of wood that looks like a knife handle, some glass wrapped in a--"

Harry took the bag out of Snape's hand. "Thank you. You can leave now."

Snape did, and Harry watched out of the corner of his eye to make sure he was out of sight before grabbing the chest, pulling it into his lap and fumbling with the clasp. He was going to see something his parents had left him, years and years ago--

The lid flew open, and Harry felt his throat swell up as he looked at the few things his parents had left him.

There was a tiny brown teddy bear about the size of Harry's hand; an envelope with his name in script upon it; a Muggle tape, placed in a small plastic box; and, lastly, two rings, which Harry picked up tenderly. He stared at them for a moment.

His parents' wedding rings.

"Wow..." Harry whispered, turning his mother's engagement ring over in his fingers. "I don't know much about jewellery, but this looks expensive..."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, placed the rings back into the box, and curled his hand around the teddy bear. Why had they placed this into the box? Perhaps it was his favourite toy when he was a baby...

Harry replaced the teddy bear, and withdrew the tape. He stared at it for a few minutes, and then searched through the rest of the chest. There wasn't a tape player, so how was he supposed to hear it? He fiddled with the tape in frustration, and caught sight of the back.

Aha. Instructions on how to perform the charm. That was useful. Harry skimmed the note carefully, then tapped the tape with his wand, muttering, "Exaudio accipio." The tape started to play, without use of any other Muggle devices:

The tape began with someone saying, "Is it on? Testing..."

Harry bit back a gasp. He had never heard his father speak, unless you counted the Dementors or Snape's Pensieve, but those weren't real, this was genuine--

"Of course it's on, Prongs," scoffed a familiar voice. "I told you, you just press the start button--"

"Record," another familiar voice cut in, "not play, Padfoot. Record."

There was a heavy sigh, followed by a female voice. "Honestly, three grown men can't figure out how to use a tape recorder?"

"It's for Muggles, Lily!" James exclaimed. "Not wizards!"

"You didn't even bother to read the instructions!"

"Married couples should be seen and not heard," Sirius sighed. Even through the static of the tape, Harry could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Right then." There was the sound of two hands rubbing together. "Well, Harry, if you're listening to us right now, we--me and your mother--are dead. Whether it's by old age, sickness, or Voldemort really does kill us in the future--"

"Hang on," Lily interrupted. "Isn't that a depressing way to start this off?"

"Well, if you two are dead, then it's already depressing," Remus pointed out. "I told you that it would be easier to write down what you wanted to say. Then there wouldn't be all this bickering."

"Yes, but James wouldn't want to go through all that work," Sirius sniggered. "You know, dipping the quill into the ink, writing on all that parchment--"

"I'm not that lazy!" James protested.

"Let's get down to business, all right?" Lily said sharply.

"She's taking Peter's place, Prongs," Sirius said. "He helps us get our attention focused. It's a shame he couldn't come and record something for Harry."

"Where is Peter, anyway?"

"Working at that pub downtown, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

"I said let's get down to business!"

"Sorry, Lily," three male voices said in unison.

"Right, then," Lily said. Her voice became soft and soothing. "Harry, James and I want you to know that wherever we may be, or wherever you may be, we always loved you. You might be stuck with my horrible sister and her drill-making husband, or you may be lucky enough to stay with Sirius, Remus, or Peter. I don't know how old you are right now, so this is difficult..."

"Let me sum it up," Sirius began. He cleared his throat. "Lord Voldemort--that's the evil Dark Lord, in case you weren't sure--was after the Potters. To be specific, he was after you. A prophecy that was recently made says that you are the sole person who can defeat Voldemort. At the moment you're listening to this, you could be young and have no idea what we're talking about. Or, you could already be at Hogwarts and perfectly understand. Or you could--"

"I don't think Harry would like to listen to you ramble on and on about the different possibilities, Padfoot," Remus cut in.

"Maybe we should just start over," James suggested.

"Let's just leave it like this," Lily sighed. "Dumbledore told us we shouldn't say too much; it might be found by Death Eaters."

"Like Snape," Sirius snorted.

"He's on our side, remember?" Lily snapped. Harry could hear a slight tremor in her voice, probably caused by nervousness. "He turned himself in to Dumbledore, he's a spy--"

"Yeah, a spy for Voldemort," Sirius said casually. "And how are you so sure, Lily?"

There was a few seconds of awkward silence, before James said, "Let's just stop the tape, and leave it at that. Sorry to stop talking at such an odd time, Harry, but I'm sure you understand. Now, I need to go see the present--well, for you, it's the past--Harry, because he needs to get his nappy changed."

Sirius sniggered, and there was the distinct sound of a book hitting someone on the head. A few more seconds of silence was followed by little whisperings that Harry couldn't make out.

"One...two...three--we love you, Harry!"

The tape stopped playing. Harry buried his head in his arms, feeling small tears dribble down his cheeks. He wiped them off with embarrassment, and sniffed loudly.

Still feeling hot tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, Harry picked up the tape and placed it back into its box. Turning it over, he saw there was a small piece of paper tucked into the back. He unfolded it:

If you fast-forward the tape, there is a recording of us singing "Happy Birthday" to you. That way, even if there is no one to sing it to you, there will always be us to listen to.

Harry smiled faintly and pushed the tape back into the box. He pulled out the envelope, opened it swiftly, and pulled out five sheets of parchment. He read them thoroughly, though he already knew most of it: Voldemort, the prophecy, the Marauders, secret passageways out of the school, etc.

Harry replaced everything back into the box, shut the top, and held it close to his chest. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine his parents, Sirius, and Remus talking to a tape recorder; his parents writing him the letter; James, proposing to Lily; baby Harry, holding onto the teddy bear--

"Harry?" said a hesitant voice. He whipped his head around so quickly that it cracked, and felt slightly relieved to see Remus standing in the doorway. He looked almost queasy, with pale skin and frightened eyes.

"Are you finished?" Remus inquired quietly.

Harry cleared his throat before answering, "Yes, I'm done." He noticed that his fingers were gripping the box too tightly; he relaxed, and flexed to get the feeling back into them.

"What was in it?" Remus asked, and then added quickly, "Unless you don't want me to know, I'll understand perfectly--"

"No, it's okay," Harry said, and he explained what he had read, found, and listened to in the box.

"I remember making the tape," said Remus quietly, a faraway look in his eyes. "I didn't know they had put it into the box."

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say.

"Well, Harry, I've got to go now." Remus clapped him on the shoulder in a fatherly fashion. "I'm wanted at the Ministry...They need more details on Sirius's life, so they can file a proper report." His jaw tightened at the mention of Sirius, but continued to speak. "Hermione and Ron are in the kitchen, eating a late lunch. Dobby's down there, too."

"Dobby?" Harry said, feeling his mouth spread into a smile. Dobby, a slightly annoying house-elf who once belonged to the Malfoys, had tried to save Harry's life on numerous occasions. Often, they ended up with Harry nearly dying, but he still liked the odd elf. "What's he doing here?"

"Dumbledore sent him to help around the house. It's still a mess. Sirius was never one for cleaning..."

Remus's eyes became slightly wet, and he blinked a couple of times. "Go ahead and eat, Harry. Madam Pomfrey is going to stop by later today, to make sure your digestive system is working properly."

"Okay," Harry replied, and followed Remus out of the living room. He received another pat on the shoulder before watching him leave the house, and then walked up to his room to put the box in a safe place. He found a cupboard that didn't look to be inhabited by anything, which was promising.

"Mr. Harry Potter!" squealed a familiar voice as Harry made his way down to the kitchen. Something small rammed into his stomach, and he choked as long fingers tightened around his bruised ribs.

"Dobby!" Hermione scolded, walking over and pulling the house-elf off Harry's waist. "Harry's not feeling very well, and I don't think squeezing the life out of him will help."

"Dobby is sorry, sir," Dobby squeaked, stepping backwards and scuffling his feet on the floor. "But Dobby is so excited to see Harry Potter!"

"It's good to see you, too, Dobby," Harry grinned, ruffling the elf's ears. "Do you mind making me some lunch? I haven't--"

"Professor Dumbledore has already told Dobby!" the elf exclaimed, running over to the stove. "Harry Potter will sit with his friends and wait, because Dobby must make a meal!"

Shaking his head, Harry joined Hermione and Ron at the table. They were both looking at Dobby with amusement.

"I think he's a bit mad," Ron said in an undertone, "but he's company, which is nice."

"Yeah," Harry said, looking at Dobby fondly. Footsteps grabbed Harry's attention, and his hand was on the handle of his wand before the person reached the end of the stairs.

Malfoy put his hands up in the air in surrender. "No need to be so twitchy, Potter."

"Sorry," Harry said, pocketing his wand and trying to relax. After all, he was in Grimmauld Place, which was heavily warded. Nothing could happen to him here. He was safe.

"Finally, something to make me food," said Malfoy, sitting across from Harry, Hermione, and Ron. He noticed Dobby, and frowned. "Who's the elf? You seem to know him."

"He works at the school," Hermione answered.

"Yes," said Ron, the corners of his mouth moving upwards in a sly smile. "I believe you know him, don't you?"

Hermione giggled into the palm of her hand as Malfoy turned to Dobby. His grey eyes opened wide, and he hid a choke of surprise with an exaggerated cough.

"Is that you, Dobby?" Malfoy exclaimed, tapping the elf on the shoulder. Dobby squealed in fear and backed himself into the corner.

"Master must not hurt Dobby!" Dobby cried out, holding up a finger, which Harry knew acted as a wand. "Dobby is free now!"

"Yeah, I know," said Malfoy, tilting his head to get a better look. "Do you mind making me a chicken sandwich, Dobby? I'm starving."

Ron's smile disappeared, to be replaced with a confused expression. Harry had the feeling that his friend had figured Malfoy would either attack or merely insult the house-elf, therefore proving that he was the same person they had always known. Of course, from what Harry had seen, Malfoy still was the same person. Just a little nastier.

"Of course, Master Malfoy!" Dobby squeaked, looking very relieved that Malfoy hadn't hurt him. He returned to the stove, humming something under his breath.

Harry turned to Ron. "Who else is here? Besides us and the twins?"

Ron shrugged. "No one, I think. Most of the members of the Order are at the Ministry. There are a lot of holes in S-Sirius's life that they need to fill in." He looked nervous at the mention of the dead man.

"That's what Remus told me," Harry said quietly, looking down at the table.

Ron coughed. "Yeah."

Malfoy looked like he was going to make a cruel comment, but Hermione sent him a scathing look and he shut his mouth.

"Dobby is done with lunch!" said Dobby proudly, bringing over a platter of sandwiches. "Masters and Mistress must eat up!"

Harry bit into one of the sandwiches, trying to hold back his moan of pleasure. Food had never tasted so good...He had finished two and was starting on a third before he realized that the other people at the table were watching him with amusement.

"What?" he said irritably, brushing a piece of lettuce off his shirt. "I'm hungry!"

"Did you bother to chew, or did you just inhale?" Hermione said with amazement. "Ron doesn't even eat that fast!"

"I do not eat fast!" Ron said defensively.

"You so do."

"No way, Hermione."

Harry then realized that Ron and Hermione were sitting quite close to each other. A bit too close. Close enough that their thighs were touching gently. They didn't stop looking at each other, or wipe the stupid grin off their faces. Had Ron and Hermione...No. They wouldn't. Not without telling him...

Malfoy caught his eyes and cocked an eyebrow in a silent question. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? inquired the raised eyebrow. Harry shrugged.

"Mr. Potter!" a shrill voice declared. "Didn't Remus tell you not to eat so fast?"

Harry turned at the sound of the voice, and saw Madam Pomfrey standing at the foot of the stairs. She was holding a large bag and shaking her head in disbelief.

"Never did like the rules, did you, Mr. Potter?" the nurse said as she walked towards him. She opened her bag, pulling out a wand and clipboard. "Up you go!"

"Erm--Harry?" Ron said hesitantly. "Is she supposed to be here?"

"Yeah, Remus said she would be stopping by," Harry said as Madam Pomfrey held her wand over his head, looking at it with a trained eye.

"Well, your stomach seems to have shrunken quite a bit," she said, scribbling something across the pad of paper that was clipped onto the clipboard. She still held her wand arm up. "I would suggest eating slowly, in small amounts, so you won't disrupt your digestive system any more than it already is."

"That's what Remus told me," said Harry dully, casting his eyes downward. He almost jumped away at the sight of his nearly transparent body; Madam Pomfrey's charm seemed to have cast an X-ray.

"I want you to keep eating chocolate, too," Madam Pomfrey was saying, still writing. "You've had some emotional shock as well, and I believe that some comfort food will do just the trick."

"Er--okay," Harry said, taking the large bar of Honeyduke's best dark chocolate that the nurse had shoved into his hand. "Can I take a bite of it now?"

"No," said Madam Pomfrey strictly. "I'll leave Remus a list of sorts, it'll help control your eating habits so you can shape your body back to the way it used to be..."

Malfoy snorted. "You're making it sound like Potter's on a diet. Suppose he has to look well for his next magazine cover."

"In a way, he is, Mr. Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey said without looking up from her paper. She withdrew her wand, replacing it in the open bag. "Unlike you, he hasn't been eating well at all this past summer. I wouldn't be surprised if you've lost twenty-five pounds since I saw you last. You're all skin and bones, Harry."

Harry bit his lip and nodded. Madam Pomfrey tucked away her clipboard, but not before tearing off a couple pieces of paper. She handed them to Harry, saying, "Give these to Remus, and tell him I wish him well."

"Madam Pomfrey?" asked Harry hesitantly, placing the paper onto the kitchen table. "Are you in the Order?"

"I have since the beginning," Madam Pomfrey said solemnly. "I was a Healer at St. Mungo's when Voldemort began his dirty work. Dumbledore requested for me to be there, because there weren't many Healers with my experiences...Let me take a few weeks off of helping children at Hogwarts." She dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex from her bag. "Hundreds of people would come in, half of them gone mad from curses and jinxes...It wasn't a pleasant experience."

"I would imagine so," Harry replied, folding the papers for Remus carefully.

"It certainly added a few grey hairs," said Madam Pomfrey, tapping her white hair with an amused smile. "No one ever expected Tom Riddle to become Lord Voldemort." Ron flinched, as did Malfoy. "I knew him when he was at Hogwarts."

"You did?" Hermione exclaimed. "But he was there in the fifties, you can't be that old--" She paused, realized what she had just said, and clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. Her cheeks turned pink as Ron snorted.

But Madam Pomfrey had laughed. "Oh, no, Miss Granger. I wasn't a student there. My aunt was the school nurse, and because my parents had died in the war against Grindelwald, I was to stay with her."

She sighed heavily. "Tom was always in the hospital wing. Fights in the corridors. He was a bright boy, knew all the curses. Quite handsome, too. But he simply didn't like people, and they didn't like him either."

"Can't imagine why," said Ron sarcastically.

The nurse sighed again. "I'll be on my way."

When Madam Pomfrey had shut the door, Harry returned to his seat, staring at the enormous chocolate bar in his hand.

"You have no idea how much I want to eat this right now," Harry said miserably. "I'm starving."

Malfoy let out a low chuckle, but didn't comment.

"Yeah," said Harry, placing the bar of chocolate on the table next to Remus's papers. "Any idea when the members of the Order will be back?"

All three shook their heads. "I can go ask Fred and George," Ron suggested. "Seeing as how they're in the Order right now." He stood up, as though moving to go towards the door by the stove, which led to the dungeons Malfoy had spoken about earlier.

Crack!

"No need for that," Fred said cheerfully, appearing out of thin air next to Ron and clapping him on the shoulder. Hermione shook her head, hiding her amusement behind her hand.

Crack!

"Indeed," George agreed, materializing next to his twin. He spotted Harry, and his grin broadened. "Hullo, Harry! How have you been?"

"Awful, and you?" Harry said conversationally.

George's grin faded. "I know, mate. There was an emergency meeting last night--"

"There was?" Ron said. He glared at his brothers. "And I wasn't informed? I'm crushed."

"--and they discussed about you being held hostage at the Dursleys," Fred said, finishing his brother's sentence. "Mum got wicked mad at Dumbledore, you should've seen her. Shouting that all he thought of you was just a boy who could help us defeat You-Know-Who."

"She bellowed herself hoarse," George added. "Couldn't speak the rest of the meeting. 'Course, that just could've been the anger, but who knows with Mum."

"What did Dumbledore say?" Harry asked curiously.

The twins exchanged a glance. "Just stood there all calm," Fred said, "and said that he had obviously made a mistake, that he should have listened to Snape--"

"Snape?"

"Yeah, him and Lupin had tried to convince Dumbledore that something was up," George answered. "Snape looked pretty smug when he said that. Lupin looked mad. Merlin, everyone was mad. I was half-expecting mutiny."

A shudder passed through their group. If the Order of the Phoenix didn't exist...well, there wouldn't be much of a chance of Voldemort's defeat. Especially if no one believed in Dumbledore anymore.

The doorbell rang, a much lighter sound than the original one from the previous year.

"I'll get it," Fred and George said at the same time, and both Disapparated away.

"They're obsessed with Apparating," said Malfoy softly, his eyes looking amused.

"Yes," Ron admitted, then looked horrified at the fact that he had agreed with Malfoy.

There were thundering footsteps on the stairs, followed by the door swinging open. Dumbledore strode in, his eyes not twinkling behind the half-moon spectacles that were perched on the bridge of his crooked nose. He carried a small brown parcel under his right arm, holding it tight against his body so it wouldn't fall.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said quietly. Keep the anger inside, don't be too angry. Yes, he left you at the Dursleys, but breathe in, breathe out...Just don't think about it...Breathe in, breathe out...

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said pleasantly, his voice as soft as Harry's. "Hermione, Ron, and Draco."

The other three nodded and said their greetings. Ron looked surprised that the Headmaster had taken the time to come to the house, while Hermione looked pleased. Malfoy, as usual, looked merely bored and unconcerned.

"Do you all recall the letters Sirius's will mentioned?" Dumbledore inquired, setting the parcel at the head of the table.

Harry nodded. "Are those them?" he asked, pointing.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered, adjusting his spectacles. "Once the Ministry discovered what Sirius's will had said, they insisted on checking them for curses. I was allowed to pick them up today, and I've distributed almost all of them, except for you four and a couple others..."

As he spoke, Dumbledore was opening the package with the butter knife from Hermione's plate. He slid it across the tape that covered the top, and pried it apart.

"Draco," Dumbledore announced, taking a white Muggle envelope out of the package with a flourish. Draco Malfoy, 1995 was scrawled across the front in Sirius's handwriting.

Malfoy took the letter with a look of mild interest. He opened it, peered inside, closed it, and stuffed the envelope into his robes. "I'll read it later," he muttered.

"Draco, Professor Snape would like to speak with you at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, still searching through the box. Malfoy's eyes brightened at the old wizard's words. "You may use the Portkey I gave you."

"Thank you, Professor," said Malfoy eagerly. He left the room quickly, obviously excited. Harry wondered dimly what the meeting was about, but his attention became focused on the distribution of Sirius's letters.

"Hermione," Dumbledore continued, withdrawing the next envelope. She took it, almost reluctantly, and followed Malfoy by putting it in the pocket of the Muggle jeans she was wearing.

"Same here," she said quietly.

"Ron," Dumbledore said, pulling out another. Ron pocketed it without saying anything.

"And...Harry," Dumbledore finished. He dug both hands into the package, and came out with a large pile of white envelopes. All were bound together with a ragged piece of string that seemed to have pieces bitten off along the edges.

Harry held the letters in his hands with a sense of forbidding. One of them had to be the last thing Sirius had ever written...Sirius wouldn't have left to go to the Department of Mysteries, risking his life, without writing something to Harry first...

"I'm going to my room," Harry said abruptly, standing up. He made his way towards the door. Holding the letters close to his chest, he hurried to a room that wasn't inhabited by anything that hadn't been removed by the decontaminating. He found a small bedroom on the first floor, which was empty except for a thin layer of dust along the floor. Harry collapsed onto the bed, and ripped the cord off the letters.

There had to be at least ten of them, all feeling rather heavy and thick. Harry sorted through them, trying to find the earliest date, and found his birthday.

July 31st, 1980: Birth.

He opened the letter, took a deep breath, and began to read.