Harry Potter and the Legend of the Four Founders

Chapter 1

Discussions on Death

For Harry, this summer was different from any of the others that he had spent at number four Privet Drive. For one, the wizarding world was at war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, for the first time in nearly fifteen years. Everyday, a tawny owl delivered Harry his copy of the Daily Prophet, and everyday there was more news on the front page, about Voldemort, Muggle deaths, wizards who had disappeared and the court proceedings against the Death Eaters; who had been caught at the Ministry of Magic, at the end of last school term.

Voldemort's return was also affecting the Muggle world. Harry had continued his habit of spying on the Dursleys, as they watched the evening news, but unlike last summer, almost every day there was a story about missing persons, or a "gas explosion," killing an entire household, things that Harry was entirely sure weren't really, "gas explosions." Uncle Vernon, after hearing from Harry last summer that Voldemort had returned, had purchased a home security system and had it installed, while Harry had been away at Hogwarts. He, of course, had failed to tell Harry about this, so one night when Hedwig tapped on the glass of Harry's bedroom window, to be let in, the entire alarm system went off. Uncle Vernon had apparently bought the deluxe package, and a dozen armed police men promptly showed up on Privet Drive, and were not at all happy to hear that it was a false alarm, set off by Uncle Vernon's, "disturbed nephew and his pet owl." As a result, Harry had gotten one of the worst telling-offs he had ever received. Harry, though, for his part, had just stood there and taken it. He knew there was no point in telling the Dursleys that their high tech security system and a dozen Muggle men with their stun guns and batons, was still no match for Voldemort.

Mostly, however, Harry was trying to keep himself busy. Aunt Petunia had become so suspicious after a couple weeks of Harry asking for extra chores, that she forbid him from doing anything and actually ordered him to go and watch TV with Dudley. Harry had not suddenly gained a liking for hard labor, but he found that when he was busy that he did not have time to think about the events that had conspired at the Ministry of Magic, just a few weeks earlier and the last time he saw Sirius. The fact that Sirius was gone forever, had yet to settle on Harry and he found it less painful to just not think about it.

After two weeks with the Dursleys, Harry wasn't expecting a reprieve very soon, so it was quite shocking when one morning Hedwig arrived with a letter for him, from Tonks.

Dear Harry,

I hope your summer hasn't been too bad so far. I'm writing to tell you, that Dumbledore thinks it is best if you come stay at Headquarters for the rest of the summer. I can't tell you much more, in case this letter is intercepted, but I'll be there to pick you up sometime in the next week. I'll see you soon.

~ Tonks

Harry blinked, and looked at the letter again. He was thrilled to be leaving so early in the summer, but the thought of Grimmauld Place and Sirius, gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He also was slightly annoyed at the Mad-Eye Moody like tactic, of not telling him exactly when he would be picked up; just in case, "the letter is intercepted," which meant he would have to be packed and ready all the time.

Three days later they were having dinner, when the doorbell rang. Uncle Vernon immediately consulted the closed circuit television, which showed what the camera outside the front door saw. Harry again fought the urge to blurt out; that there was no way Voldemort would ever ring the doorbell and then patiently wait till someone answered.

And, indeed, it was not Voldemort, but a delivery woman, waiting with a package under one arm and a clipboard in the other.

"Go answer it, boy," growled Uncle Vernon, turning back to the TV.

"Err, please," added Aunt Petunia weakly, apparently recalling the speech they had gotten from Mad-Eye Moody, at the train station, when they went to pick up Harry.

Harry got up without a sound and walked to the hallway. He opened the door, expecting to be handed a box, but instead received a familiar,

"Wotcher, Harry!"

"Tonks?"

"Like my disguise? I'm quite proud of it," replied Tonks, "anyway, I'm here to take you to Gringotts."

"Gringotts? But I thought we were going to Headquarters?"

"Dumbledore has some business for you to look at in Gringotts, and then you'll meet someone there; who will take you to Headquarters."

"What's taking so long?" bellowed Uncle Vernon, from the dinning room.

"You'd better come in," said Harry.

Harry left Tonks in the hallway, as he went in to tell his aunt and uncle that he was leaving. From that direction, Harry heard the tinkling of broken china and Tonks yell,

"Don't worry, I'll fix it," followed by a spell, "Reparo."

The Dursleys didn't seem to care one way or another that Harry was leaving, and the only good bye he got was Uncle Vernon's,

"Fine then."

Tonks helped Harry drag his loaded trunk downstairs, along with Hedwig in her cage.

"We're going to use the Floo Network out of Mrs. Figg's house, to get to Gringotts," said Tonks, as they closed the front door behind them. They crossed Privet Drive and walked the short distance to Mrs. Figg's home. The old woman answered promptly, after Tonks' knock, and Harry was immediately greeted by the smell of cats. He could see numerous glowing eyes, peering at him from under furniture.

"We'll leave your stuff here," offered Tonks, "and then, when I make sure you've got safely to Gringotts, I'll come back and take them to Headquarters."

Half an hour later, Harry was again immersed in the wizarding world and standing before the impressive entrance to Gringotts Wizard Bank. He and Tonks entered, but instead of going to the goblin manned desks, they hung a sharp left and went down a brightly lit corridor, that ended in a large room, full of numbered doors. At the centre was a receptionist's desk, with a frail looking goblin sitting behind it.

"Let's see," began Tonks, "we're looking for number 2659." Apparently, they didn't need to see the old goblin behind the desk.

Harry looked around, baffled; the doors were only numbered one through nine. Tonks led him to the number two door, and pulled it open. They went down another corridor and into another large room, which, after noticing, the frail goblin behind a desk, Harry realized was the same room they had just exited. Tonks again ignored the receptionist, and took Harry through door number six. After another corridor, they were again in the same large room.

"Umm, maybe we should ask the receptionist for help?" suggested Harry.

"Don't be silly, Harry, we don't need any help."

She then led him through door number five, and again they ended up in the first chamber. Harry was ready to go and speak to the goblin at the desk himself, but Tonks physically pulled him to door number nine, and pushed him through it. They walked down another corridor, but this time it terminated at a frosted glass door, with "Legal Room 2659," etched on the front.

They entered and Harry found himself in a small waiting room, containing only two chairs against one wall and a solid door on the other, with no knob. Tonks took a seat and Harry followed suit.

"Someone should be with us soon," Tonks told Harry, "we're a few minutes early."

Harry barely had time to reflect on his utterly confused state, when the knob-less door swung open and Remus Lupin walked out, followed closely by a goblin.

"I will see you now, Mr. Potter," spoke the goblin.

As Harry passed the worn and tired looking Lupin, he was given a slightly reassuring smile. As the door closed behind him, he heard just the beginning snippet of a conversation between Lupin and Tonks,

"Nice to see you got him here safely..."

The new room Harry had entered was scantily furnished, with nothing but a desk and two chairs. The goblin sat down on the far side of the desk, and beckoned Harry to take his seat as well. Harry fervently wished he knew what was going on. Had Tonks forgotten to tell him something, or was he supposed to have received an explanatory note from Dumbledore that he had never gotten?

"Please sit down, Mr. Potter," said the goblin a bit forcefully, jolting Harry out of his thoughts.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled back, as he sat down.

There was a single document on the desk, written on a single piece of parchment in jet-black ink. Next to it was a black quill.

"This is the last will and testament of Sirius Black," explained the goblin solemnly, "he has bequeathed his fortune to be split among his three best friends, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and James Potter. In addition, he also left his entire estate to James Potter. You are the heir of James Potter and therefore, the bequeathal passes to you. Please read the will and sign at the bottom, indicating that you understand the legal exchanges that will take place."

Harry sat in shocked silence for a moment, before automatically taking the parchment he was handed. His eyes scanned the words, but his brain didn't seem to want to register them.

I, Sirius Black, leave my fortunes to be divided among my three closest friends, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and James Potter. I also leave my estate, Number 12 Grimmauld Place and all worldly possessions to James Potter. I would also like it to be known; that my final wish is that James demolishes the estate; since I believe if serves no great purpose.

Underneath Sirius' signature, were three lines. The first one was black, with "Deceased, no living relatives," printed neatly on it, the second line was also black and Harry recognized the scrawling signature on it, as belonging to Remus Lupin. The last line was dark red and blank.

Harry's senses had gone numb; this was the last thing he had expected to be asked to do. If he signed this, it meant Sirius was really gone. For a crazy second Harry actually considered saying no and telling that goblin that they had made a mistake; Sirius wasn't dead, he just hadn't returned from behind the veil yet. Harry knew what he had to do, however, as much as he didn't want to do it. He picked up the quill and hurriedly scribbled his name on the last line. At first no ink appeared, but after a few seconds there was a small pop and his name appeared written in black, and the line had changed from red, to black as well.

"Good, it is done then," replied the goblin, as Harry placed the quill back on the desk. "The money left to you will be transferred to your account and we will owl you the deeds to your new estate." He rose and Harry followed after him, back into the waiting room, where Lupin was now sitting, instead of Tonks.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you what this was about Harry," said Lupin softly; to a very shell shocked Harry, "we weren't sure if you would come, if you knew it was to sign Sirius' will."

"It's just a lot to take in," choked Harry.

"That's understandable," replied Lupin, "but I think being at Headquarters and seeing Ron will cheer you up."

"But it will also remind me of Sirius," added Harry. They had walked back down the corridor and out into the first large room.

"Harry, this is never an easy thing, to lose someone close to you. I know it all too well. And you will find that little things will remind you, just as much of that person, as the obvious things. Every time you see a hippogriff, or someone's black dog, or when you see the Shrieking Shack, you are going to think of Sirius, it is human nature."

Harry stayed silent, as they crossed the golden lobby and exited out into Diagon Alley; he couldn't think of anything meaningful to say in return. He had forgotten that he wasn't the only one who missed Sirius. Lupin had now lost both Sirius and James, and Harry felt guilty for thinking he was the only one who was hurt.

"I don't mean to lecture, Harry, but you have to grieve Sirius, because he is gone forever. The sooner you face that fact, the better it will be for you in the long run. I'm going to tell you something that Sirius told me last year. Molly was always telling him that you aren't your father, and boy, did Sirius get sick of hearing that. You see, Harry, Sirius was never given the proper time to grieve for his best friend. Azkaban is not the place where you heal from psychological wounds like that. You do look remarkably like James, and every time Sirius looked at you he was reminded of James. But Sirius still couldn't grasp that James was gone, no matter how many times I told him. It was less painful for him to see you as James, than as a reminder of James. So, in a sense, Molly was quite right."

Harry wasn't sure what point Lupin was driving at, but he didn't trust his voice enough, at the time to ask. He just continued to stare at the cobblestones as they walked, not caring where they were going.

"The point I'm trying to get at, Harry, is that you don't want to end up like that. You have to come to terms that Sirius is dead and it will take time, but it must be done. I myself am still struggling with it, but believe it or not, I find Grimmauld Place to actually help the process. Many people, who also miss Sirius, but who are supportive, surround me. That is another reason Dumbledore wanted to remove you from your aunt and uncle's protection, so early in the summer."

They had reached the Leaky Cauldron, when Harry finally looked up. He found his voice and asked,

"Why are we here?"

"As strange as it seems, we are actually going to take a Muggle taxi, to Headquarters. Dumbledore reckons that no decent Death Eater would ever think of Muggle transportation; and that it's probably the safest way to get you there."

The taxi ride was uneventful and they spent most of it dodging the nosy driver's inquiries, into where they were going and why. The driver dropped them off at number eleven Grimmauld Place, since he obviously couldn't see number twelve, because of the Fidelius Charm. Harry got out first and Lupin stayed behind, to presumably pay the driver. But Harry was quite surprised, to see Lupin pull out his wand and mutter

"Obliviate."

Instantly the driver's eyes glossed over and he bid them good day, in a strange voice and drove off.

"A precautionary measure," explained Lupin, when he saw Harry's shocked expression.

"Although memory charms can be broken, it doesn't make it as likely that any Death Eaters will learn the where abouts of where he dropped us off."

"But they couldn't get in, because of the Fidelius Charm though, right?" asked Harry.

"They could not see the house, nor get into it, but it is still not advantageous to have a gang of Death Eaters roving around outside. It makes holding meetings difficult and dangerous, and it's just easier to try and avoid that situation."

Harry stopped Lupin, as they were going to the front door.

"I just wanted to apologize, for only thinking about how I felt after having to sign Sirius' will. I didn't even stop to think how you felt..." Lupin however, cut Harry's awkward apology off.

"You don't need to apologize for anything, Harry. You did nothing wrong, everyone grieves in their own way. I just want you to know, that if you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm always here. Well, I don't know how talkative I'd be around the full moon, but as long as I've had my potion, I would be quite content to just listen."

Harry laughed, but then said seriously,

"And I'll be here, if you need anyone to talk to as well. We're both dealing with Sirius' death."

Looking at Harry with tired eyes, Lupin replied,

"That is something your father would have said, Harry. You truly do not know how like him you are becoming." Lupin and Harry knocked on the door and waited patiently, for someone to answer. After a few seconds Molly Weasley opened the door. Immediately Harry was pulled into a tight hug, as Molly fussed over him.

"Mum, your going to strangle him," said a very familiar voice from somewhere beyond Mrs. Weasley. Harry struggled free, to see Ron standing a bit behind his mother.

"All right there Harry?" he asked, looking, if it was possible thought Harry, even taller than he had been two weeks ago.

"I'm alright," replied Harry.

"Are you hungry, Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley, "I have plenty of left overs from dinner in the kitchen. Come on, you look famished." Ron gave him an "it's best to do what she says," look, and Harry had to admit he was a bit hungry, since he hadn't had a chance to finish his meager meal with the Durselys.

Ron followed him to the kitchen and took a seat next to him, but remained oddly silent. Mrs. Weasly was bustling around and in no time had a plate set before him, heaped with pork chops, mashed potatoes with gravy, and half a mince pie. Harry also got a pitcher full of pumpkin juice and a very tempting slice of blueberry pie for dessert.

"It's ok," he said, to the still silent Ron between mouthfuls, "I promise I won't bite your head off if you talk to me."

"It's just that, I wasn't sure how you'd be feeling," confessed Ron, "after having to go, you know, go sign the um, well the..."

"...The will," finished Harry, pausing from eating. "It's ok, you can say it. Professor Lupin and I had a nice long talk afterwards; well he did most of the talking really. It's still surreal to me."

Ron nodded, "I haven't even been home yet, we came straight here off the train. It's so strange not to have Sirius around, and dull to. With just Ginny and me around all of the time, it is bloody boring. We don't even have cleaning, to keep our minds off of it. Occasionally Fred and George turn up, or Percy, but we miss not having Sirius. The rows he had with Mum were entertaining in themselves..."

"Wait a minute," interrupted Harry, "did you say Percy is around?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you didn't know," replied Ron, "after You-Know-Who showed himself at the Ministry, Percy came crawling back to the family. Mum and Dad accepted him back, of course. Mum was crying and Dad was saying how we hadn't been a family without him. He was even inducted into the Order. The rest of us aren't so forgiving though, and Percy knows it. Fred and George have been using him as a test dummy for some of their newest joke items, and Ginny and I just try not to talk to him."

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on him, I mean he did come back and admit he was wrong and everything?"

Ron snorted. "He came back, but he hasn't admitted he was wrong. He hasn't even apologized for all those horrible things he said to Mum and Dad, last year, or that letter he wrote to me about you. We think Mum and Dad are being too easy on him."

Harry, much to his own surprise, wasn't gloating as much as he thought he would last year. Now that everyone knew Voldemort was back, Harry saw the terror it was stirring up. He now understood why people were so stubborn, about not believing him and Dumbledore last year; they were trying to hide from what they were most afraid of. They thought, that by seeing Harry as a criminally insane mischief-maker and Dumbledore as a power hungry tyrant, that they could still be happy and carefree. So, somehow, Harry felt no anger toward Percy, or even Fudge, for that matter. He knew who his real enemies were, and the disbelievers from the Ministry of Magic were not them.

"You know what I do find interesting, though," commented Ron, "how did the goblins at Gringotts know Sirius had, well, died? I mean, he was still on the run and a fugitive, so it's not like Dumbledore could go report it or anything." Harry was stumped, he hadn't even thought of that.

"I can answer that," replied Mrs. Weasley, somewhat gravely, coming back into the kitchen. "Sirius made that will before he was sentenced to Azkaban, before your parents had died, Harry. Now, when you make a will in the wizarding world, it is not only your wishes to be carried out after your death, but a magical contract, which is never written in black ink, always some other colour. At the moment of the will-maker's death, the ink burns black on the will and that person's signature, while the places for the recipient's signatures remain the true colour, until they sign it. So, everyday at Gringotts the goblins go through the stacks of wills that are kept there and sort out the ones that have turned black, and then they go about contacting the other parties involved. Goblins don't really concern themselves with other matters than Gringotts, so they could care less that Sirius was an escaped convict. All they cared about was that his will had turned black and that people needed to be contacted, in order for the goblins to do their jobs, which they take very seriously."

"But, then, shouldn't they have realized that Peter Pettigrew wasn't really dead, when everyone thought he was," asked Harry?

"Ahh, but Peter probably did not create a will. If I understand what Remus and Professor Dumbledore have told me, then Peter thought he was on the winning side with Voldemort, and probably saw no need for one." She fell silent and began scrubbing dishes at the sink.

"Come on, Harry, let's go take a tour of your new house before bed. I still have to feed Buckbeak and Pig anyway," suggested Ron. Buckbeak was still housed in Sirius' mother's old bedroom. He looked up expectantly when they opened the door, but when he saw it was only them, laid his head back down on the bed.

The boys bowed cautiously, but Buckbeak barely returned it, only nodded his head.

"I think he's depressed," confessed Ron, "he must miss Sirius awfully."

Buckbeak looked up at Harry, and Harry somehow understood the sadness and confusion in the hippogriff's eyes. He stroked Buckbeak's glossy feathers on his neck, and said sadly to the giant bird-like creature,

"Sirius is gone, Buckbeak. He's never coming back, so I'm going to be the one taking care of you now."

Ron had laid out half a dozen dead rats before Buckbeak, but the winged creature barely sniffed at them.

"Come on now, you have to eat," coaxed Ron. Buckbeak scoffed two rats grudgingly, with a sickening crunch.

"It can't be good for him either, being cooped up in this house all the time," said Harry, as he and Ron made their way to the room they would be sharing.

"Yeah," agreed Ron, "next time Hagrid is here for a meeting, we'll ask him to go have a look at Buckbeak."

Ron and Harry were staying in the same room as last year, evident by the painting of Phineas, former headmaster of Hogwarts. Tonks had delivered his things; his trunk was sitting at the foot of his bed and Hedwig and Pig were sitting on top of the dresser, their empty cages on the floor. After they had changed into their pajamas and crawled into bed, Harry remembered that the door was still unlocked.

"Don't bother," replied Ron, when Harry asked if he should get up and lock it.

"But what about Kreacher?"

"He's gone," answered Ron, "after what happened, the Order voted unanimously on it."

"So he was given clothes?" inquired Harry, referring to the only way to set a house elf free.

"Free!" Ron exclaimed, "no, they, well, um, they tried and executed him." Harry just stared at Ron, with a slightly disbelieving gape.

"Well, he deserved it, didn't he," Ron half asked, half stated, "I mean, he lied to you, betrayed Sirius, and was fraternizing with You-Know-Who. He was a security risk, even if he was kept here. There was a lot of discussion as to whether or not you should make the decision, but Dumbledore decided that it was probably best to not add that to your stress. Apparently they did it in a humane way, if that helps." Ron looked as though he was terrified that Harry would blow up again, like he had done on so many occasions last year.

Harry, however, was feeling mixed emotions. At first he felt rather sympathetic, but then an

annoying little voice from the back of his mind, reminded him just how much Kreacher was involved in Sirius' death. If he hadn't lied to Harry, Harry never would have gone to the Ministry of Magic looking for Sirius, who wasn't even there, and Harry would not have needed to be rescued by the Order and Sirius, and thus, Sirius never would have died. A rare feeling welled up inside Harry, and he was glad to know that Kreacher had been killed and took comfort in it.

Ron was still looking at him, with a scared expression, so instead of voicing his present opinion; Harry lightened the mood by asking,

"So, how are you going to tell Hermione this?"

"Tell her? I'm not telling her!" replied Ron fervently, "she'd go bonkers, and we'd never hear the end of SPEW. I'm not going to tell her for her own sake and our sanity. We'll just tell her that he has been set free, that will satisfy her."

Harry laughed, for probably only the second time that summer. He had gotten a perfect mental picture of Hermione's reaction to the news that Kreacher had been killed, and he whole heartedly agreed with Ron that in this case, a little white lie was the best thing.