Harry Potter and the War of Souls

Chapter 6

Alone

He hadn't set foot in No. 12 Grimmauld Place in over a year. Maybe this house had passed to him but it would never be a home for him. Even Sirius hated it. After assuring himself he was there alone, he crept past Mrs. Black's portrait and found his old room. He crashed on the bed, then opened his satchel and pulled out his family's photo album.

They were the usual family portraits, or at least, similar to the pictures the Dursley's had of Dudley. But some things were immediately clear from these pictures. His parents loved each other. And they loved him. They had intended to share a long and happy life together. If they had lived, what would he be like now? He probably wouldn't be stashed here alone right now, that's for sure. He wouldn't be spending his seventh year searching for hidden pieces of Voldemort's soul. And he wouldn't be Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He'd just be Harry.

In the earlier pages of the album were younger pictures of his parents with others he recognized; Lupin, Sirius, and Pettigrew. He saw a younger Dumbledore and even a young McGonagall, her hair still pulled into a tight bun and looking as stern as ever.

There was one photo that seemed to be of his parents at graduation from Hogwarts. They were standing together with several other graduates, most of whom Harry did not recognize. But his father was near the center, with the Marauders on one side of him and Lily on the other. Behind her, however, was someone who caught his attention. It was Snape, staring over at Lily with a look that made Harry's insides turn. He knew that expression. Ron had it whenever he looked at Hermione. Snape loved Lily. Nobody who saw this picture could deny that.

Some form of love, Harry thought bitterly, to have given her up to Voldemort only a few years later.

He fell asleep with his arm wrapped around the album, dreaming of his parents and of the treacherous man who had loved his mother, the man he vowed to destroy before this was finished.

When Harry opened his eyes the next morning, he did so with a scream and a literal jump from his bed. Kreacher was standing in front of his bed looking highly irritated.

"Kreacher!" Harry yelled. "What are you doing here?"

"Filthy new master comes to my mistress's home. Kreacher must serve him here."

"I don't want you to serve me here!" Harry yelled. "You're supposed to be at Hogwarts."

"Kreacher is at Hogwarts as Kreacher is needed there, but you is here so Kreacher is here."

Harry sat down as his heart slowly began returning to a normal beat. "Okay then, I'm hungry. Get me some breakfast."

Kreacher grimaced at Harry before he popped out. Harry was nearly through dressing, having put on his dad's old shirt, when Kreacher returned with a tray of eggs, bacon, and toast.

"There's fresh food in this house?" Harry asked.

"Others come and go."

"Members of the Order?"
Kreacher looked as if his head might explode as he nodded. "They dishonor my mistress's home."

"It's not your mistress's home. It's my home," Harry said firmly. "And since you're here, I have some things you can help me with. Last year, I saw Mundungus Fletcher with some things he had taken from this home. I want to know what he stole."

Kreacher's eyes widened. "A beast, that one is. We find him, Harry Potter. We hurt him."

"I want you to go through this entire home, Kreacher. Even through the things you hid before. Tell me everything that is missing, even if it seems insignificant."

Kreacher nodded willingly. If Harry wanted to preserve the Black family treasures, Kreacher seemed more than eager to help.

"One more thing," Harry added, although he knew it was a long shot. "There are a few things I'm looking for as well. I want anything here that may have belonged to any of the founders of Hogwarts. Do you know who they were?"

Kreacher nodded, this time with less enthusiasm. But he popped out anyway.

Harry picked up the satchel and stuffed his clothes from last night into it. He couldn't avoid returning to the Burrow much longer. Other than what he had left with last night, everything he owned was there. Maybe Hedwig would find him at least. He decided that sometime after Kreacher finished a search of Grimmauld Place, he would return. They had to be warned. They had to know they were targets now.

With nothing better to do, he pulled out his mother's diary. The cloth covering it was showing its age but was still in fairly good shape. In fact, the only torn area was along the spine where it was thick and bumpy. He opened it and began reading. She began writing in it soon after receiving her first letter from Hogwarts. "I'm a witch!" the diary began. "Mother and Father are so proud. I don't think Petunia is very happy though."

Harry grinned and turned a few more pages. "Charms is a wonderful class, and Professor Slughorn says I have a talent for potions, which is hard to believe considering that my shrinking solution turned a horrible color before it blew up in my cauldron. That horrible James Potter laughed at me all day."

He thumbed through several more pages until he caught another reference to his father. "I'm finally old enough to go to Hogsmeade. Severus had invited me to share a butterbeer with him, but James and his friends played some sort of trick on him and he never came to meet me. That wasn't very nice."

Harry grinned. He hoped his father had stuck Snape a good one.

A few pages later, he read, "I had a long talk with James and his friends. They warned me to stay away from Severus, said that he had a fascination with the dark arts. I think they're right, but I still feel a bit sorry for him. He looks so lonely."

"Lonely," Harry muttered. "Don't worry. He has his friends and they share his fascination."

He began turning the pages until he found the entry he had been most interested in reading. "I don't know which is worse. James and his friends being unkind to Severus as a way of showing off or Severus turning on me when I try to help him. I want nothing more to do with any of them."

Only pages later, however, Harry read, "James apologized to me. He's promised never to behave towards anyone like that again, although he says he can't say the same for his friends. Still, he asked me to come see his final Quidditch match. Everyone says he's a fantastic Chaser."

Harry read on and smiled again when he read, "James and I are Head Boy and Girl. I was more surprised for myself than for James. He's brilliant. I can't tell him this yet, but I think I love him..."

Harry heard a pop and looked up. Kreacher was standing in front of him looking extremely put out.

"Filthy master is busy. He does not want Kreacher's news."

"Yes, I do," Harry said, closing the diary. "Tell me."

"There is many things missing, many things my mistress loved. There is missing a snakeskin, a dagger, a goblet, a locket."

"Stop! What goblet?"

"Silver, with the noble family crest on it."

"And what about the locket?"

"Oh, my mistress will be most unhappy. It was the last gift from Regulus to her before he died."

Harry's mind made the instant connection. Regulus Black. If his middle name fit, could he be the R.A.B. who had replaced the Locket Horcrux? Of course, if that was it, everything fell into place. Sirius had told him that at a certain point, Regulus wanted to get out of being a Death Eater and he was killed for it.
"Were there any marks on the locket?" Harry asked.

Kreacher glared at Harry as if he was being forced to say more than he wanted. "Kreacher remembers an S on the front. He wants it returned to his mistress. Harry Potter will get it for her."

Harry ignored Kreacher's request and asked, "Anything else missing?"

"Nothing Harry Potter will be wanting," Kreacher said.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

Kreacher's face scrunched up tightly and he spoke through pressed lips. "We house elves is to know things, to hear things. We know why Harry Potter wants these items."

"And do you know where they are now?"

Kreacher shook his head. "Kreacher wants them back, but he does not want filthy, mudlbood-loving master to destroy them."

Harry grabbed Kreacher by an ear and pulled him forward. "Yes, well your filthy, mudblood-loving master is giving you a direct order. If you find out anything on where those items are, you must come to me at once and tell me what you know. Do you understand?"

"Kreacher understands selfish, mean, hateful master."

"Then I want you to return to Hogwarts. I want you to find out anything you can."

Kreacher scowled, then with a stamp of his foot, he disappeared.

Harry sank back onto his bed. They had been right here for all this time. How could Dumbledore not have known? He seemed to know everything.

He lay there for a long time, battling feelings of frustration and anger until sleep overcame him. The dream began almost immediately. He was back at the Burrow and there was a celebration of some sort. A wedding. Everyone was having a wonderful time. Then there was a scream and he looked up in the air to see a Dark Mark hovering over the Burrow. People began running and diving for cover. Death Eaters arrived and spells were flying in every direction. The Death Eaters were eventually chased away, but there was blood everywhere.

And another scream came from behind Harry. He turned and began laughing, enjoying the chaos his servants had created. After all, the wedding day is all about the bride.

Harry awoke breathlessly, his hand clutched to his scar. Fleur!