November 1994
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
After an eventful day, Harry had a peaceful sleep in the night. He woke up early, the next morning and got himself dressed.
While he could have had his breakfast in the chamber itself, he chose to go to the Great Hall.
Harry silently entered the Great Hall. Initially, no one took notice of him but soon all the attention was drawn towards him. He ignored the various gazes filled with all kind of the expressions and walked and sat next to Hermione.
"Good morning, Hermione," greeted Harry.
Hermione did not reply immediately and looked at Harry with a slightly angry expression. She ultimately sighed, "Morning, Harry."
Though Harry understood what could be the matter, he still asked, "What is the matter, Hermione?"
Hermione again remained quiet as if not wishing to engage in any conversation. But under Harry's curious gaze she relented, "Harry, I understand you had your problems with headmaster Dumbledore. But why remove him as a headmaster?"
Harry though did not want to hurt Hermione's feeling, he remained blunt, "Because I own Hogwarts. And I did not like the Dumbledore."
Hermione gave Harry a speechless look.
"Look Hermione," continued Harry. He decided it would be the last time he would explain his point of view to maybe his only 'friend,' who did not have a selfish interest.
"I understand your thinking. But tell me, did you not read the questions, Mrs. Tonks asked to Dumbledore and how he was unable to explain any single question."
He pressed, "How appropriate it is, to blame every single life killing accident, I have been through his hands since my birth to negligence… a mistake."
"Can he really brush off his responsibility, simply by saying," added Harry further and mimicked Dumbledore. "I admit, I have made a slight mistake."
Hermione remained quite unable to argue Harry on any point. She knew and understood the reality very well… but it was just her 'worship' and 'respect' for authority, making her question the 'harshness' of Harry's action.
"Think Hermione… think…," said Harry. "Just because he is an old man with a reputation and numerous posts does not mean that he is infallible."
Hermione nodded in daze while Harry busied himself with his breakfast.
Meanwhile, he did not notice a certain red haired individual looking at him, from a distance with hate… jealousy… envy… in his eyes. Ron Weasley wanted all that power…. All that money…
He envied how Harry could donate one hundred thousand galleons so casually? How casually he announced to fund professors in their research.
And now that Harry had become reach, Harry had parted ways with his 'best friend'. How did he not want to share his riches with his 'best friend'?
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After his breakfast, Harry walked to a secluded corridor of the Hogwarts and vanished away.
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November 1994
Unknown Location
When Harry reappeared, he was standing on a wide street. A muggle street.
In front him stood a towering and beautiful house built of stones. 12 Grimmauld Palace, the ancestral home of the Blacks. It was truly an irony that a family known for its muggle hatred, lived in a muggle locality.
Without any hesitation, Harry took few steps forward and arrived at the main gate of the house. He pushed the gate and next moment, he felt the wards of the house scanning him. The process was short and the gates opened instantly.
But the wards did not stop at scanning Harry, it finally settled on to him as he took control over the house… which had been long due.
He had taken a few steps inside the hall, when a dirty looking house elf popped in front of him. Harry was not surprised as he had felt a certain presence from the wards, when he took control of it.
The elf was nothing like how a black family elf should be. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked on the verge of the death.
Even so, Harry instinctively recognised the elf from Voldemort's memories. He was the same elf; Regulus Black had given Voldemort to test the defences of the Slytherin's locket hidden in the cave.
Harry was surprised to see the elf alive and what surprised him even more was the small locket hanging on Kreacher's neck. It was the horcrux… the Slytherin's locket.
"Who are you?" asked Kreacher in an aggressive tone.
Before Harr could continue, he himself stammered, "You are the half-blood Harry Potter, the new Black Lord."
It appeared that Kreacher was quite updated with the current affairs and had the same blood supremacy as the most of the Black family.
Harry ignored the question, "Kreacher, should you not greet your new Black Lord?"
Kreacher gritted his teeth, "Magic tells me… but you are half blood."
Harry chuckled, "Interesting…"
His gaze shifted towards Kreacher's neck, "How did you get this locket, Kreacher?"
Kreacher fearfully took few steps back, "You… I will not give it."
"Did Regulus Back give it to you?" asked Harry further. Kreacher's eye widened at this.
"What did he say?" asked Harry further. "Did he ask you destroy it?"
Kreacher trembled violently, "How do you know?"
Harry shrugged, "That is not important, Kreacher. What is important that you have failed in destroying it."
Kreacher's next reaction took Harry by surprise as he broke down into tears.
"Kreacher's has been a bad elf… he felt to fulfil his master's last order," he wept.
Harry shook his head, "Why don't I help you in fulfilling your master orders?"
Kreacher looked at Harry with wide eyes, "You will help, Kreacher?"
Harry nodded and extended his hand but Kreacher again backed off.
"I will not give the locket," said Kreacher. "Do it in front of me."
Harry thought better not to argue with an almost insane elf, "Ok… but I cannot do it right now. I have few more such things to destroy and I will destroy them together."
"Till then you can keep the locket but you cannot wear it. Keep it in a wooden box…." Harry stopped at this.
"Our guest is here," muttered Harry. "Go and do as I told you."
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