Harry Potter and the Slytherin Connection

Chapter 1

La Casa Black

Kill the spare.

Harry Potter woke with a jolt, stifling his scream as his hand hit his scar.

He took a couple of deep breaths, looking around his room and hoping his Uncle hadn't heard him.

He had fallen asleep at his desk, trying to get through his summer homework. Both tasks (sleeping and concentrating) were usually impossible since he had returned to Privet Drive. His sleep was almost always disturbed by horrible dreams of his last encounter with Voldemort and although they were becoming less frequent, Harry still had trouble dealing with them. His concentration was similarly affected as was his eating.

No one in the house seemed to notice Harry's withdrawal however, of which Harry was glad. Not that he would expect sympathy from his Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon and certainly not from his cousin Dudley, but they seemed to take great pleasure in over-working him a bit more than usual this summer.

All these aspects played a major roll in the way Harry felt and looked at the moment.

Harry moved to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. Looking up at his dripping face, he saw the normal untidy black hair which only sometimes could be made to cover the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead and the green eyes that had lost some of their brightness last June.

Almost fifteen years old now, he had always been skinny but the face that looked back at him was rather gaunt and the body hidden underneath his oversized hand-me-downs, while sleek and toned from hard work was still lean from under-eating and growth. Harry guessed he had grown about 2 or 3 inches.

Pushing his glasses back on his nose, Harry returned to his room and gathered his work to return to his trunk. Once everything magical was safely locked away, he moved to get ready for bed, hoping to get some real sleep.

The sound of the doorbell stopped him. He glanced at his wrist, then remembered he didn't have a watch anymore. His old one had ceased to work after his hour in the lake during the second task last year. His alarm clock across the room showed it was 11:00 p.m.

The Dursleys rarely had guests arrive so late, so Harry was curious enough to move to his door. Opening it, he heard voices but couldn't distinguish any words. He quietly moved closer to the staircase.

"Get out of my house," he finally heard his uncle shout. It was followed by a quiet response from the intruder.

"You can't have him," Harry heard his aunt's voice.

"Yes, I can and I will," Harry heard the intruder quite clearly now and almost doubted his ears. "Where is he, Petunia?"

"Sirius," yelled Harry as he bound down the stairs, his heart pounding like it hadn't for months.

"GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM, HARRY," shouted Uncle Vernon.

Harry stopped half way down the stairs.

Sure enough, standing in the open doorway was Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, looking better than Harry had ever seen him. Dressed in muggle clothing, boots with his jeans tucked into them, a t-shirt and a leather jacket, his dark, fathomless eyes, which were starting to lose the haunted look from his years spent at Azkaban, moved over Harry in an inspecting sort of way. He ran a hand through his black hair that although neatly cut was longer than the last time Harry had seen him and he looked up at Harry's aunt.

"Don't you even feed him, Petunia?" said Sirius. Then he turned to Harry. "Get your stuff, Harry. You're coming with me."

An explosion erupted in Harry's chest, much like a Snitch had just taken off in his heart.

"No, he isn't," shouted Uncle Vernon, standing in front of Sirius like a blockade, his face purple with rage.

"You can't take him," said Aunt Petunia again.

Sirius ignored them both and looked up at Harry who felt as if he were frozen half way down the staircase. "Come on, Harry," said Sirius. "We don't have all night."

Harry heard shouting behind him as he raced back up the stairs to his room and started throwing everything he possessed into his trunk. He was going to live with Sirius. It kept echoing in his brain. His parents' best friend. He didn't stop to remember that his godfather was a convicted murderer who was on the run from the authorities. All he could think of was that Sirius had come for him. Sirius wanted Harry to live with him. He didn't stop to analyze why the Dursleys were arguing about having Harry leave. They hated him after all.

He grabbed Hedwig's cage (she was still out hunting) and dragged his trunk back towards the stairs. When he reached the top, the arguing continued.

"He can't leave here, Sirius!" Aunt Petunia kept insisting.

"I already told you, it isn't safe for him here anymore," said Sirius. "Now get out of the way." Sirius pulled out his wand. Harry's aunt and uncle instantly backed across the foyer.

Sirius looked up at Harry and pointed the wand at his trunk. The trunk instantly miniaturized. Harry tucked it under his arm and moved down the staircase suddenly feeling apprehensive.

"Where's Hedwig?" said Sirius.

"Hunting," Harry told him but as if on cue, Harry's owl soared down from behind him and perched herself on Harry's shoulder. "Well, she was," said Harry.

"Good, I need to send a message to Remus," said Sirius, digging through his pockets until he found a piece of parchment. Then he looked around. "Do you have a quill?"

"You just shrank them."

"No matter." Sirius then walked over to Uncle Vernon, pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and scrawled something on the parchment. He folded it up, addressed it and tied it to Hedwig's leg. "Remus is at the Weasley's," he told her. Hedwig hooted, nipped Harry's ear then soared out the front door, which was still standing open.

"Let's go, Harry," said Sirius.

"Harry," said Aunt Petunia.

Harry turned to them and felt awkward. He had lived with them for 14 years. True they weren't particularly happy years but he had a roof over his head. "Thank you," said Harry. He couldn't think of anything else.

"Be careful," said Petunia. Harry could've sworn he saw tears but couldn't fathom why so figured he must have been mistaken.

"Behave yourself, boy," said Uncle Vernon.

Harry nodded and Sirius grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the house.

"They were almost nice," said Harry as he moved down the front walk.

"Part of your protection," said Sirius. "I'm not sure how it works, it's ancient magic, but they had to be nasty to you. You had to think they hated you."

Harry looked up at him. "Why?"

"I just told you, I don't know. You would have to ask Albus. He's the one who put the spell on them and on the house." Sirius took Harry's miniaturized trunk and opened a compartment on the back of a motorcycle parked at the curb and placed it inside. "But Albus thinks Voldemort's found a way around the spell, so it's not safe for you anymore." He turned and held out a helmet. "So now you're coming with me."

"But, Sirius, aren't you supposed to be hiding?"

"Not anymore. Peter's been seen frequently and apparently is quite proud of himself, because he's publicly admitted what he did. They can't catch him though and he never travels alone. Anyway, I've been cleared of all charges. Even if Fudge is in denial of everything."

"I should have let you and Professor Lupin tear him apart," said Harry, feeling the guilt wash over him again. He could still picture Cedric's face, see the look in his eyes.

Sirius pulled Harry's chin up and looked sternly down into face. "This is not your fault, Harry."

Harry opened his mouth, couldn't think of anything to say and closed it again.

"So get on," said Sirius.

Harry looked at the helmet in his hands then at the motorcycle. "So where are we going?"

Sirius' hand fell onto Harry's shoulder and Harry looked up. "Home, Harry," said Sirius. "We're going home."

The explosion erupted again in Harry's chest. He wasn't sure but he considered it could be what joy felt like. Very like when he had won the Quidditch cup. Harry couldn't seem to help himself. He jumped forward and grabbed Sirius in a tight hug, his head buried in his chest. The feeling intensified as one of Sirius' arms came around him and a hand pressed Harry's head tightly to Sirius' chest.

Sirius held him away after a moment. "We have to get moving."

Harry nodded, trying not to look at his godfather. He put the helmet on and threw a leg over the bike. "Where did you get this thing?"

Sirius got on in front of him and started moving switches and hitting buttons. "It's mine. I loaned it to Hagrid to bring you here. When my name was cleared, he gave it back." The engine roared to life and Sirius steered them up the block. "It's got some very special features," Sirius told him. "It's even got some features that even I'm not sure what they are."

"How come?"

"Well, your father installed them and wouldn't tell me what they would do and well, I've never had the nerve to try them," admitted Sirius. "I knew him too bloody well."

Harry's arms tightened around Sirius waist as he speed the bike up to the limit. For once he didn't feel remorse or anger or anything else when talking about his father. It seemed natural to talk to Sirius about him.

"Good. It's almost midnight. It'll be quicker now."

"What will be quicker?" said Harry.

"Getting there," said Sirius. "You aren't afraid of flying are you?"

"What kind of question is that?" said Harry, doing his best to sound insulted. He knew Sirius knew how well he could fly.

"A rhetorical one."

"Sounded more like a stupid one to me."

Sirius laughed. "Hang on," he said and as he moved a level near the hand grip. The motorcycle lifted off the ground.

Harry's arms tightened around Sirius waist and the bike bolted forward, faster than Harry had ever experienced. Harry felt the rush of the air around them, the power of the bike beneath them and felt freer than he'd ever felt in his life.

After a few minutes, he felt the bike turn and they circled around a rather large house.

"Is that it?"

"That's it, Harry," Sirius said. "And see that clearing to the left?"

"Yes."

"That's the field where the Weasley's play Quidditch."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "We live near Ron?"

"We sure do."

Sirius touched down softly in the drive, pulled the bike to a stop in front of the carport and shut off the engine. Harry took off his helmet, still studying the red brick house. Three stories high it stood like a tall old tree. Harry had never seen a more beautiful house. This was going to be his home.

Sirius had gotten off the motorcycle and he took Harry's helmet and put it away. "So what do you think, Harry?" he said. "La Casa Black."

Harry was still staring intently. "I guess it'll have to do."

"You guess-" Sirius reached out and ruffled Harry's hair. "Come on, you smart ass. Let's go inside."

Harry followed Sirius to the door and into the house. Once inside, Harry took a couple steps in, his eyes scanning the hall, memorizing ever detail - a brass mirror, several small tables with candles, a grandfather cloak. Sirius closed - actually slammed - the door behind them.

"SURPRISE!"

Harry was instantly closed in on and he was sure he had never gotten so many hugs in his entire life. All the Weasley's were there and by the time he got to Ron, he couldn't help himself. "Pinch me, Ron," said Harry.

"What for?"

"Because I must be dreaming."

"Oh, it's no dream, Harry." Harry heard a familiar voice and turned.

"Hi, Professor Lupin."

"I'm not your teacher anymore, it's Remus," said Remus and he turned to look at Sirius. "Have any trouble with them."

"Just a little," said Sirius. "Why don't we all go into the living room."

"Can't have a home coming without a party, right, Harry," said Fred.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hermione!" said Harry. He pulled her into a fierce hug and when he let her go, she kissed his cheek.

"Happy Birthday," she said.

"Happy..." Harry heard several clocks in the house chime and realized she was right. With all the excitement, he had forgotten.

Ron grabbed his arm. "Almost forgot, did you," he said. "Well come on. I'm starving."

He dragged Harry into a room where a table was spread with a veritable feast. Before Harry could even pick up a plate, something crashed into his leg, grabbing him around the waist.

"Oh, Harry Potter, sir. It's true. It's true."

"Dobby?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir. It's Dobby."

"What are you doing here?" said Harry.

"Master Sirius hired me, Harry Potter," said Dobby. "Dobby is so happy to be Harry Potter's house elf."

"Winky is here too," said Sirius who joined the group. "But she won't let me pay her."

"She's not still crying, is she?" said Harry.

"No, she's gotten over the Crouches and is very happy to be working for a family again."

A family. It echoed in Harry's ears. He had a family now, a real family. A knot seemed to grow in his throat.

Sirius seemed to notice Harry's distracted thoughts and changed the subject. "Come on, Harry. Open your presents."

He was shown to a table where a pile of more presents than Harry had ever gotten in his life where piled. Among the memorable were several trick candies from Fred and George's collection and the last one he opened from Sirius and Remus.

"That's not just a watch," said Remus as Harry put it on.

It looked like a regular watch. "It isn't?" said Harry.

"No," said Sirius. "It's been in my vault since you were a baby. I was supposed to give it to you last year, but as you know, I couldn't get to Gringotts."

"So what does it do?" said Ron, who was obviously interested as he grabbed Harry's arm to inspect the watch.

"That's a homemade watch," said Remus. "It was Sirius' idea, but James loved the idea so much, he insisted we all help and then Sirius would give it to Harry on his 14^th birthday."

Harry recalled the clock at the Weasley's house which told who ever looked at it precisely where each member of the family was and pulled his arm away from Ron to examine it more closely. "So are you going to tell me what it does?" said Harry.

"Tap it with your wand and ask it what you should be doing," said Sirius.

Harry did just that and words magically floated across the face of the watch.

You should be enjoying the best birthday party you've ever had and not staring at some silly watch.

"Tap it again and say 'commentary'," said Remus.

Harry did.

Mr. Prongs would like to wish his son a happy birthday but is most annoyed with Mr. Padfoot for his tardiness.

Harry stared with amazement at the watch. But it wasn't finished.

Mr. Moony also expresses his best wishes but understands Mr. Padfoot's tardiness.

Mr. Padfoot apologizes for his tardiness but hopes he has made up for it.

Harry didn't expect anything else but sure enough there was one more message left.

Mr. Wormtail also expresses his best wishes to the birthday boy and does indeed hope he has many more.

"We created it similar to the way we made the Marauder's Map," said Sirius.

"Are these programmed responses?" said Harry.

"Oh no. That's the magic that James and I created," said Sirius. "It will respond honestly and in the present time frame."

Remus suddenly looked at Harry with alarm. "Did Peter say something?"

Harry didn't see much point in lying so he told them.

"Interesting," said Sirius.

"Why?" said Harry.

"Never mind, Harry," said Sirius. "It's getting late."

The party broke up and before he left, Ron pulled Harry aside. Meet us at the field after lunch for Quidditch."

"All right," said Harry.

"And wait until you see your room, Harry. It's great."

"You're just saying that because you helped decorate it," said Hermione.

Harry was now a little afraid to see it. Ron's room was painted orange. "I'm sure it's great, Ron. See you tomorrow."

Harry was a little disappointed as everyone except Remus left. Sirius immediately sent Harry to bed, which he did gratefully. He found his room easy enough and thankfully it was not painted orange. Magical Quidditch posters lined the walls around bookshelves filled with wizarding books. It had a 4 posted bed with curtains like at Hogwarts and a huge desk by one of the windows. In the corner by another open window was a section obviously created for Hedwig. Harry's owl was looking very pleased from a very plush looking perch.

Harry walked to her and stroked her back. "So what do you think, Hedwig?" he said. She hooted and nipped his fingers. "Mmm. Me too."

Harry looked at the bed. He almost felt afraid to lay down. There wasn't much Harry was actually afraid of. He had endured excruciating pain and had escaped death 4 times. But for the moment, he was afraid. What if he went to sleep and woke up back at the Dursley's. He didn't think he could bear it if all this was gone.

He moved to an armchair next to yet another window and sat down. A light breeze ruffled his hair and he could smell the pine tree outside the window. Exhaustion overtook him and he felt his eyes lids close.

Harry saw the fire. A hooded figure stood next to a chair in front of that fire. The hooded figure held out a piece of parchment and a thin hand reached out to take it.

A cold laugh came from the chair. It was a laugh that Harry wished he didn't know.

"Is it good news, Master?"
"Oh, yes, Wormtail. Very good news. The boy has been moved."

"Then it's time to put your plan into action," said Wormtail.

"Yes. It is time."

"Master," said Wormtail. He sounded very unsure. "Are you sure it will work?"

"It will work, Wormtail. The boy will come to me."

Harry woke up abruptly. He was a little surprised that his scar wasn't burning but the dream didn't really show Voldemort showing any real signs of hostility so he could assume that was the reason. What did it mean? Was Voldemort talking about Harry?

Harry looked around. Everything was the same as when he had sat down the night before except Hedwig was gone (obviously out hunting again) and he sighed with relief. He washed up and got changed then went down stairs, wondering if he should tell Sirius about his dream. He probably should, he considered. Sirius had told him very little about what was going on but Harry's dreams were pretty accurate - at least according to Professor Dumbledore.

He could hear Remus and Sirius in the dining room and Harry stopped in the hall.

"So what does Dumbledore think?" said Sirius.

"He thinks Voldemort's waiting for something. There is plenty of movement even though they are hiding out. The Aurors are out in force but they can't find them. The most prominent activity is Peter. It's as if he's looking for something," said Remus.

"Or someone," said Sirius.

"You think he's looking for Harry?"

"Don't you? He can't be pleased that Harry got away last year."

"True," said Remus. "But I'm a little skeptical of Albus' latest theory."

"I'm not," said Sirius. "Voldemort is just underhanded enough to try something like that. But I'll be damned if I'll let-"

CRASH

Harry cringed, looking down at the vase he had just knocked over. He had been inching closer to the door to hear better.

"Harry?" said Sirius.

"Sorry," said Harry, walking into the room. "I'm not fully awake. I fell asleep in the chair in my room and didn't sleep properly."

The two men seemed to accept that and Harry gratefully sat down as breakfast materialized before him.

"So Professor Dumbledore thinks Voldemort is biding his time?" said Harry. He didn't see much point in hiding what he heard. Not to mention that he wanted to know.

"So that's what happened?" said Sirius. "You know, Harry, you wouldn't make a very good spy."

"How much did you hear?" said Remus.

"Enough."

"No one is sure yet," said Remus. "We can't tell you much because there isn't anything to tell."

Harry accepted it and the morning passed pleasantly enough as he listened to Sirius and Remus expound on various stories which included his father. At several points, Harry thought his sides would split open he was laughing so hard. It wasn't until lunch when Harry remembered Ron's invitation.

"Sirius," said Harry. "The Weasley's are going to play Quidditch in the clearing after lunch. Can I go?"

"All of them?" said Remus.

"Yes. Charlie is going too. I'd like to see how I do playing Seeker against him."

"All right, Harry. You can go," said Sirius.

Harry jumped up. He couldn't help smiling. "Thanks, Sirius."

"Be home by dinner," Sirius called behind him as he raced up the stairs to his room.

"I will."

Harry collected his Firebolt but then noticed Hedwig back on her perch. She didn't look very good. "What's wrong, girl?" said Harry.

She held out her leg wearily. Harry took the note off it. It was addressed to him but Harry didn't recognize the handwriting. He opened it.

I know where you are, Harry. Who will it take to bring you to me? Perhaps your precious Sirius Black, or maybe Mr. Ron Weasley? Miss Granger might suit my purpose too. Who will it be, Harry?

Harry heard that cold voice in his head. "The boy will come to me."

The parchment fell out of his hand as a fear he had never experienced came over him. It was a fear for the people he loved. It was now dangerous for anyone to care about him. He reached into his trunk and grabbed his father's cloak. He finally had a home and a family and now he had to leave it.