Capítulo 8: Truths
What followed was a brief panic on Harrys side - he had no muggle money on him, how to pay for that little visit?! - that ended abruptly after Sirius had finished laughing about it and got out some muggle bank card he had gotten wile he had still been keen on buying muggle motorcycles.
He paid and they went back to Grimmauld Place, with Harry sulking only a little bit. Really.
Stopping in front of the door, Sirius looked at Harry.
"Thanks for that walk. I think it was the most fun I had with anyone since almost fifteen years..."
"Nah, thank you too. It was great, being able to talk to you freely without having to fear being overheard, or having to go somewhere in the middle of it... we really need to do that again," Harry answered, smiling brightly, and Sirius smiled back before dropping his glamours.
Even though they had talked about some serious subjects, he knew he'd cherish that memory.
Though... speaking of memories... hadn't he forgotten something? He blinked, then swore in his mind. That prophecy thing! He had completely forgotten about it and the fact that he had wanted to use the pensieve inside of the hidden library room...!
"You alright?" his godfather asked and he nodded.
"Yeah, sorry, just remembered I need to look for something."
Harry shot him a quick smile and Sirius patted him on the shoulder, before letting them both in.
It was weird, needing to think about an address to be able to see the house, really... but oh well, in the magical world almost nothing seemed impossible and more than enough stuff was weird.
Though he would have taken almost any weirdness instead had he known who awaited them inside.
The second both of them were safely inside they found Molly Weasley standing in front of them, seemingly furious. She pointed at the kitchen and went there herself, without a word - which was probably better if they didn't want to wake Walburga - and Sirius and Harry shared a look, that clearly said 'Uh-Oh' - at least on Harrys side - before following her.
She started the second the door was closed behind them.
"Would you like to tell me where you have been?" she asked in a clipped tone.
Sirius took a deep breath. "Outside."
"Yes, I saw that. And where exactly?" Mrs. Weasley pressed on.
"In muggle London," Sirius answered, surprisingly calm.
"Don't you play smart with me Sirius Black!" It was obvious that his answer hadn't satisfied her and she was getting worked up. But this time, Harry watched with anxious interest as Sirius didn't back down, like he usually did. Instead, he straightened up, now towering above her.
"Then don't treat me like I'm one of your kids. I appreciate the fact that you are worried about me, but I'm a grown adult-"
"A grown adult who behaves like a child!" she interrupted him, clearly not wanting to hear his reasoning. "You know exactly what Dumbledore said! It's not safe for you to go out! And to take Harry with you, were you thinking at all? What if You-Know-Who had shown up?! He could have died, Sirius!"
At this, Sirius actually had the nerve to roll his eyes. Harry himself actually wouldn't have done that, he feared the wrath of Mrs. Weasley almost as much as her children did, even though she wasn't often angry with him.
"Honestly, as if Voldemort-" His godfather ignored the hiss of the woman as she heard the name. "-would show up at a random muggle café in the middle of London. And we were taking precautions." The scoff that followed was ignored, too. "Look, I want to see Harry alive as much as you do, but you can't honestly believe that a fifteen year old boy is best while being coped up in some unknown house during his summer holidays, now can you?"
Mrs. Weasley hesitated only for a second before answering. "It might not be the best way to spend ones holidays, but it is by far the safest! You should know that his safety goes first! I can't believe you risked it for something like this! I know it's not easy living here, but it's the best for everyone, especially for you and Harry!"
Sirius didn't miss a beat. "That might be, but what Harry and I do and don't do is our own decision, not yours, as much as you'd like it. It's our lives we're risking."
"Don't be so selfish! You might think that and you seem to imprint your views on Harry too the way things are looking now, but you both shouldn't forget that our hopes rise and fall with Harry! Don't risk his life because of meaningless stunts like these!"
By now, even Sirius' surprisingly found patience seemed to be wearing thin. "Meaningless stunts? Well, excuse us for having fun these days! Not forgetting that I'm an adult wizard and not a bad duellist either. And I have been an auror, too. I know how to watch out for dark wizards. That was my job!"
"Well, it has been your job, yes. And then you got yourself into this mess with Peter Pettigrew and landed in Azkaban, didn't you?"
Sirius stiffened and Harry frowned. To remind his godfather of that time was really low and he suspected Mrs. Weasley knew that.
He really wished Remus would be here, he always seemed to have a calming effect on everyone and right now, it would've helped greatly as he didn't trust himself to say anything.
"I will not discuss this any longer," Sirius said coldly, already turning towards the door.
"Then better remember Dumbledores orders next time and stay inside!"
Though Harry was sure - okay, actually he was hoping fervently - that Molly meant well, she shouldn't have formulated it like this.
In a flash, Sirius stood in front of her, looking furious, but so controlled that, for a split second, Harry was almost worried that his godfather was possessed by someone or anything.
"You should do well to remember that this is my house. And Dumbledore may have my permission to use this as the secret hideout for the Order, and he may have cast a fidelius charm to protect it even more, but I am the current Lord of the Black family and I won't tolerate being a prisoner in my own house any longer! I understand that Dumbledore told me to stay put for my own safety, but from now on I will decide if I follow his advice. And I won't follow orders from you. I don't care if you are only worried about Harry, so am I even if you don't seem to understand that. And while I will always regret that I couldn't be there for him these last years I will not put up with you mentioning it again and again any longer. I will be there for Harry as long as he wants me to be and if you cannot accept that you may as well leave this house and not come back!"
Silence followed his words, as Harry and Mrs. Weasley both stared wide-eyed at the glaring Black Lord. Who finally seemed to have accepted his heritage, even though he hated his family.
Mrs. Weasley seemed to recover first, storming out of the kitchen and slamming the door, which woke Walburgas portrait that started to scream almost instantly.
But at least the noise shook the two remaining males out of their little trance.
"Sorry you had to witness this," Sirius mumbled, having cooled down a bit. "It's not normally that bad, but she tends to use that Azkaban thing against me and... I guess I was tired of backing up. It's some of the worse traits that come with being a Gryffindor I fear." He smiled weakly, before shaking his head. "I guess I'll go tell Remus now. He'll find out on his own sooner or later and I'll get reprimanded anyway."
Harry nodded slowly and Sirius left too, probably going upstairs, ignoring his screaming mother.
Deciding that he didn't want to stay at the kitchen - and even though he felt quite... queasy now after listening to that argument he still had a memory to view - he made his way through the door, preparing to close Walburgas curtains first so that she wouldn't disturb everyone any longer.
The funny thing? The second he stepped into her point of view, she stopped, regarding him closely instead. So he decided to do the same.
She was an old woman, definitely long past her good years, and while the portrait was expertly drawn - if he didn't know better he would've thought it being a window! - it had a weird colouring, which gave the woman yellowish skin. Other than that, she had probably been a beautiful young lady once, but the old age really hadn't done her any good. Even though she still had a certain aristocratic aura around her... if she wasn't screaming her lungs out, that was.
"So... you are the heir..." she finally mumbled, quietly, but loud enough for him to understand. "Kreacher told me your name, Harry Potter. I am surprised that one of Lord Slytherins descendants married a Potter of all families, but I guess they are purebloods... Maybe they've finally shown some interest in the right kind of magic... Haven't had contact with them for ages... and I'm quite glad about that... But you wear the bracelet, you have to have Lord Slytherins abilities..."
She continued mumbling like that for a while and Harry tried to listen patiently, but by now, he was really curious as to what these memories meant.
"Um... I'm sorry to interrupt you Mrs. Black, but I really need to get some urgent business done, would you mind if I close your curtains again?" he asked hesitantly.
To his surprise, she smiled! "Oh no deary, thanks for listening to me. I'm glad that you seem to possess at least a few manners, so much unlike my son. Just continue your business, don't mind me. I'll just send Kreacher if I want something from you." With that, she actually winked at him.
Suppressing a shudder, he closed the curtains with a forced smile and a polite goodbye before rushing upstairs, trying not to think about whatever she was up to...
He got the memory and the letter out of his trunk, where he had placed it the day before - thankfully, Ron wasn't there to ask him about it - and made his way to the library that was located just outside their room.
He went into it, nodding to Hermione who sat, once more, in one of the corners with a table, a stack of books next to her. She was taking the whole research thing very seriously, he'd tell her of Sirius' idea later.
For now, he just made his way through the room, past his normal spot on the windowsill and to the hidden room, easily twisting the candleholder and walking through the wall, now that he knew how to do it.
Inside, he made a beeline for the pensieve, stopping in front of it to read the letter again... A memory from someone he most likely knew... He wondered who that might be and how the unknown person knew that...
But oh well, if he didn't look at it he would never know. So he pulled out the vial and poured the memory into the pensieve, watching as the silvery substance flowed into the basin where it swirled for a moment before it began to depict a scene.
At first, Harry was unsure of where it could be, before he recognised the town Hogsmeade. At least it seemed safe enough.
He leaned forward until his nose touched the substance and he was practically sucked into the memory...
The next thing he knew was standing next to the Hogs Head, slightly confused. He wasn't used to pensieve travels, so that was part of it, but another part was bugging him, a part he only recognised after a few seconds: The comfortable weight around his body was missing, as Shiva had not visited the memory with him. He had become so used to it...
Shaking his head, he focused. This was no time to think about Shiva, he'd tell her what had happened later, first he needed to find the owner of that memory!
He looked around the village, slightly surprised at the scenery. It looked like the Hogsmeade he knew, but there were a few changes too. So it was probably an old memory.
Also, most of the buildings were strangely blurred, as if he would look at them without his glasses on, but the Hogs Head was as sharp as it could get.
He wondered why, until he noticed most of the people being blurred as well, just like the landscape. Maybe the person who the memory belonged to didn't remember these things? It was only a memory of someone after all, it had to follow a certain logic.
Harry let his gaze sweep over the crowd near the pub, searching for the one person that shouldn't be blurred as they were the owner of this memory. Only to frown as he finally found them.
It was no one else then Severus Snape, his potions professor, though a younger version of him, maybe about twenty.
And as he was already at the door, Harry hurried to follow him inside, he was really curious now. Though not exactly happy that it was Snape that had relayed anything of importance to Voldemort... Not that he hadn't known about him being a Death Eater, but anyway. It didn't help increasing his trust in the man now that Voldemort was back...
Inside the Hogs Head the atmosphere was more or less solemn, so unlike the Three Broomsticks. But in this memory - if it really was from more than fifteen years ago - Voldemort was still on the loose, it probably wasn't all too surprising that not many people wanted to celebrate anything.
Harry watched as Snape went through the small room, sitting down at one of the tables on the far end of it, next to some stairs that probably led up to... more private rooms? Or something like that.
He thought the potions master looked pretty suspicious, but on the other hand almost every other customer here did too - as far as he could see, they weren't very sharp except for one person at the counter, who seemed to be the bartender and was looking strangely familiar - and Snape did blend quite nicely into the background.
As the bartender had his back turned, probably to take something out of the shelves behind him, Snape suddenly stood up and went up the stairs. He was so fast in fact that Harry almost didn't notice and hurried to go after him. His potions professor moved silently, quieter than Harry would've managed outside of a memory, before suddenly jerking to a halt, outside of a door. Harry almost ran into him - or in this case most likely through him - before stopping himself, listening to whatever Snape was trying to listen to.
And really, he could hear voices behind the closed door in front of which they stood. Quiet voices, but easily recognisable.
One definitely belonged to Dumbledore. It wasn't hard to identify it, he had had talks with his headmaster more often than most other students.
It was the other voice that surprised him. He needed a second, but then it was clear to him. He had had the subject since his third year after all.
The second voice belonged to Professor Trelawney, his slightly weird teacher of divination.
It was obvious that they held a job interview right now, with Dumbledore asking about her qualifications and so on.
She was just answering one of his questions as the situation turned strange.
It wasn't the memory, surprisingly, but her voice. And the change was something that sent a shiver up Harrys spine. Her tone had changed drastically into a harsher one. One he had heard only once before, the day she had predicted Peter Pettigrews return to Voldemort... which had come true mere hours later.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." she said in that strange voice of hers. "born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."
By that time, Harry was focusing entirely on that closed door, wanting to hear the rest of that prophecy. Which probably was the reason why a sudden thump made him jump and turn around. Snape now laid on the floor, motionless, and the barkeeper stood behind him, wand drawn.
"Now, now, who do we have here...?" he muttered darkly, before grabbing Snapes arm and pulling him up.
He knocked sharply on the door before opening it. But as he dragged the immobile man inside - who was insisting he had just gotten the wrong door - telling a slightly younger Dumbledore about what had happened, Harry only had eyes for Trelawney. Sadly, she had already stopped talking, looking slightly confused at the commotion. Harry cursed in his head. That prophecy didn't seem fake to him at all. It actually seemed to be rather vital. And... hadn't Dumbledore told him only two years ago that the 'Pettigrew prophecy' made a total of two real prophecies from Trelawney?
As the memory faded into black, Harrys mind was racing. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...' Was that really about himself and Voldemort? It seemed to fit if he looked at the age of the people that were present inside of the memory and the fact that he seemed to have 'defeated' Voldemort as he was one year old... and even though he had no idea if his parents had 'thrice defied' Voldemort he was definitely 'born as the seventh month dies', as July was the seventh month in the year.
Dammit.
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thanks for the support :) sorry if there is any error
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