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batsutousaiTitle: Stand Against the Moon
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort
Warnings: Violence, character death, Dark!Harry, werewolf!Harry, AU, ending of questionable happiness, underage sexual relationship (depending on the way you tilt your head)
Summary: Cursed against his will, Harry made the best of his life until he found himself, again, wandering in Death's realm. When Death offers him a second chance, a chance to right the wrongs he'd been blind to for too long, he can't possibly refuse.
A/N: Lots of people asking about Remus. XD He'll show up next chapter and all your questions will be answered. (Or, well, most of them. *cackles*)
This chapter's a bit choppy, because things are happening, but there's not a great deal to say about them, so it's a bunch of little sections. Sorry about that.
Chapter Three – Never Quite Perfect
-0-
"So," Sirius said once they'd settled in at the Leaky with their food, "did Petunia let you do anything fun?"
Harry considered that for a moment while nibbling at his toast. "I'm not sure 'let' is the right word," he admitted. "I may or may not have taken the opportunity to add itching powder to the laundry once, and I would hide the remote for the telly all the time, just to make Dudley search for it." Which, well, the laundry one came from that other reality, but he'd hidden the remote on Dudley all the time.
Sirius snorted. "Well, that's one way to get them back for being sorry excuses for humanity," he decided before shaking his head. "But not really fun in the way I meant. You never got to play ball or anything?"
"That assumes any ball survived Dudley for longer than ten minutes," Harry replied drily and Sirius winced. "But, no, I never really played with any toys or such. Well, I had my one soldier, and I did manage to steal some paper at one point to draw on, but the pictures got binned when Uncle Vernon found them."
Harry made a mental note to keep Sirius from ever finding out how many times he'd got a broken bone from Vernon manhandling him, because his godfather looked rather like he was thinking about joining Voldemort just for the chance to torture the Dursleys.
"What did you like to do for fun when you were my age?" Harry asked, figuring that was a good way to distract his godfather from his murderous thoughts.
Sirius gratefully took the distraction and expounded on various magical toys and games, most of which Harry had a passing familiarity with from helping Andromeda raise Teddie and spending time with the various Weasleys with children. He also mentioned the names of his cousins and brother, all of whom Harry knew, but asked about anyway, since it would have been expected.
The conversation got them through breakfast and down to Madam Malkin's. There, they were both dragged into the back, Madam Malkin insisting that Harry wasn't the only one who looked like he needed new clothing. (Which, in Harry's opinion, wasn't inaccurate, because Sirius' robes were hanging off him a little too loosely, thanks to his time in Azkaban.)
Harry's Dudley cast-offs were a little too loose for Malkin's assistant, especially since Sirius had insisted on under things for Harry as well as robes, so she asked if he'd take his shirt off. Which, well, Harry was going to have to do anyway, since there was no way he was wandering around Diagon Alley in his muggle clothing, so he shrugged and did so.
"That's an interesting ring," Sirius commented. Clearly, the Notice-Me-Not spell had worn off. It figured.
Harry reached up and wrapped his fingers protectively around his ring, trying to figure out how to explain its existence. 'Ah...' He offered Sirius an uncertain smile. "I found it in the garden. Didn't want anyone to steal it from me, so I kept it with me."
Sirius nodded in understanding. "It's certainly shiny."
Harry snorted and glanced down at the polished golden band attached to the rough black stone. "Part of it, maybe," he agreed and Sirius laughed.
Once they had robes to wear out – they'd have to come back for the rest of their order – Sirius asked, "May I see the ring? I promise I'm just curious."
Harry pulled the ring out from under his robes and stared at it uncertainly for a long moment. It wasn't that he didn't trust that Sirius would give it back, but there was a part of him that didn't want to let it out of his grasp, already too used to the familiar weight of it against his chest. Finally, he made himself tug the twine over his head and hold it up for Sirius to see.
"Not the prettiest thing, is it?" Sirius joked as he held it back down, and Harry took it gratefully. "I can resize the band, if you want to actually wear it."
Harry shook his head, since the reason he kept it on the twine was so he could keep it with him when he transformed. "No. I'm used to it, now." He tucked it back under his robes and lightly touched the hint of a bump against his sternum. "But thank you."
Sirius ruffled his hair, a fond smile lighting his face. "Sure thing, pup. For now, let's go spend money on useless stuff."
Three hours later, Harry had new clothing, a child's broom, a rather nice trunk, a number of new games he could play with Sirius or any other magical children, and a few knick-knacks that had caught his eye when they went snooping through the junk shop across from Ollivander's. Better yet, he'd had more fun than he could remember ever having in either life.
They got lunch to go at the Leaky, then flooed back to Grimmauld Place.
"Do you want help taking that upstairs?" Sirius asked jokingly of the trunk full of Harry's new things. It had a feather-light charm on in, but the fact that it had multiple compartments meant it couldn't be shrunken, so it was a little awkward for Harry to cart around.
Harry considered that for a moment before shaking his head and asking, "Kreacher?"
The house-elf peered his head out of the little room he had in the kitchen. "Yes, Young Master Harry?" he replied, eyes darting uncertainly towards Sirius.
Harry smiled at him. "Could you put my trunk at the end of my bed for me, please?"
Kreacher's eyes lit up and he immediately snapped his fingers to vanish the trunk. "It is there," he promised.
"You might want to go che–" Sirius started.
"Shut up," Harry snapped, shooting his godfather a disapproving glare before looking back towards Kreacher with a helpless shrug. "Thank you."
" Young Master Harry is welcome," Kreacher announced before returning to his room.
Harry settled at the table and gave Sirius' disgruntled expression a tired look. "I get that you have a history, but I do actually like Kreacher, Sirius."
Sirius huffed. "I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to chastise you for telling me to shut up."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I make no promises about respecting people in positions of authority when they're acting childish." He pointed a finger at his godfather. "Being generally awesome the rest of the time does not exempt you from that."
Sirius considered him for a long moment before setting a plate with food in front of Harry. "You are the oddest five year old I've ever met."
"Not five yet," Harry pointed out, even as he allowed himself a mental wince; he really needed to tone it down.
"Doesn't make you any less weird, pup."
Harry shrugged and pushed at his food with his fork. "So, since we keep eating out, should I assume you can't cook?"
Sirius grimaced. "Ah, no. Not really." When Harry pointed his fork at himself, mouth full, Sirius immediately shook his head. "No. You are not cooking any meals. I don't care how good you are at it, if you need a footstool in the kitchen, you're not cooking."
Harry nodded thoughtfully while he swallowed, then pointed out, "Then you're going to need to start trusting Kreacher not to poison us so he can make food."
"Or we can keep eating pub food," Sirius insisted.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You are such a bachelor, dear Merlin." He waved his fork at Sirius. "Nothing against Leaky's offerings, but I have no interest in flooing out for every meal. Either you let me cook, or you learn to trust Kreacher with food." He paused while Sirius scowled. "Or you can learn how to cook yourself."
"You're a right little tyrant, aren't you?" Sirius complained, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes that promised he wasn't angry.
Harry held up one hand and held his pointer finger and thumb close together.
Sirius let out a sharp laugh and ate another bite, then sighed and turned towards Kreacher's room, where they could see the house-elf peeking out at them. "You might as well join us, Kreacher," Sirius commented, a note of hostility in his voice, though it was clear he was trying to be polite.
"Kreacher has already eaten," Kreacher announced, but he did shuffle over to the table and climb up into one of the chairs at the far end. "Master wishes to talk to Kreacher?"
Sirius glanced towards Harry, who raised an eyebrow at him, then sighed again. "Yeah. Kreacher, can you manage dinner and breakfast for a couple days?"
Kreacher stared at Sirius. "Kreacher can," he agreed. "And after, Master?" He was clearly thinking the same thing Harry was: It was going to take more than a couple days for Sirius to master cooking.
Sirius stabbed at his food. "I'm looking for somewhere else to live," he announced before glancing up towards the ceiling. "I'm not staying in this house any longer than I have to."
Kreacher twisted his hands in front of him. "Master will be leaving Kreacher here?" he asked, and his voice shook.
Harry's stomach felt too heavy and he set his fork down. He didn't want to leave Kreacher alone in this house with only Walburga for company, but he knew Sirius would never stay here.
Sirius glanced between Harry and Kreacher for a moment before rubbing at his face. "I don't know. Call this a trial run; if we can get along for the next couple days, I'll consider bringing you with. If not, I'll sell you to someone else."
That was...remarkably kind of Sirius, actually. But, then again, Harry supposed Sirius felt the same way as Harry did about leaving anyone alone in Grimmauld Place.
Kreacher bowed his head. "Kreacher understands," he mumbled before jumping down and starting back towards his room.
"Oh, and Kreacher?" Sirius called after him.
"Master?"
Sirius glanced towards Harry, then back at Kreacher. "Harry's birthday is Wednesday. I was thinking something a bit half-and-half."
Kreacher replied with a toothy smile that said he knew exactly what Sirius meant, even if Harry had no idea what was going on. "Best left to Kreacher," the house-elf agreed before snapping his fingers and vanishing.
Harry raised his eyebrow at his godfather, who had put on a vaguely disgruntled look in response to Kreacher's parting comment. "Do I want to know?"
"You'll find out in two days," Sirius promised.
Harry sighed and resigned himself to the mystery.
After lunch turned into time to try out Harry's new toys, which ended up involving a great deal more Sirius-plays-with-Harry's-toys-while-Harry-laughs-at-him than it involved Harry playing around himself, but they both had fun in their own ways.
Kreacher made dinner and Sirius only grumbled about poison twice, which Harry considered improvement. (From his expression, Kreacher seemed to think it was a miracle.)
"I'm going to spend tomorrow morning at the Ministry, looking into magical houses that are for sale," Sirius mentioned as Kreacher washed the dishes. "You're welcome to come along with, or stay here and play or whatever. If you stay here, you'll have to stay in the house, but I expect you'll have more fun here, anyway."
Harry shrugged. "When are you going to visit the house?" Because he was interested in going along for that part, but Sirius was right to assume Harry had no interest in sitting around the Ministry for a couple hours while Sirius looked through house options, not being Harry Potter, not after Lucius had very likely spread it around how bad his upbringing had been previously.
Sirius tapped a finger against the table top. "After lunch, probably. There shouldn't be too many options, so I don't expect it'll take all day. Did you want to come with for that?"
Harry nodded. "Please."
Sirius grinned. "All right. I'll come pick you up for lunch, then, and we can head out to look at our options after that." He stood. "For now, more playing?"
Harry snorted and stood himself. "Yeah, let's go."
Harry got up to eat breakfast with Sirius and see him off, then wandered up to the second floor and the library there. The door was locked, but a wandless unlocking charm fixed that problem and Harry stepped inside.
He knew what most of the books were from when he owned the house, but a quick glance around suggested that a number of books had been removed before Harry moved in, either by the Order or those Blacks who had access between Walburga's death and Sirius' escape from Azkaban. "Bloody hell," he breathed, staring at a bookcase that had been nearly empty in Harry's memories.
The first two books Harry opened screamed at him, and he snarled at the third one he pulled down pre-emptively, teeth bared.
"They are not meant to be opened by children," Kreacher called from the doorway, clearly having come to discover the source of the screaming. "They are Dark books, dangerous for those who do not know."
"Well, that's obnoxious," Harry complained as he put the book back. He gave it an extra little flick with his fingers, a sign of his irritation, then looked towards Kreacher. "I'm sure they'll make me cry at their simplicity, but where are the books I can read?"
Kreacher looked uncertain for a moment, then shrugged and led the way to the other side of the room. Harry recognised most of the books there from his memories and he resisted the urge to sigh. "These ones have not been spelled against any age," Kreacher reported before glancing up at Harry like he wanted to say something, but was afraid it would be taken the wrong way.
Harry raised an eyebrow at the house-elf, even as he pulled down the first book he spotted that didn't look familiar. "Go ahead, Kreacher."
"Young Master Harry may not be able to understand many of these books. They are not being meant for children."
Harry snorted. "I am very much not your average child."
"Kreacher had noticed," the house-elf retorted before vanishing.
Harry chuckled to himself and picked out a couple other books, then left for his room, shooting an absent locking charm at the library door as he pulled it shut behind him, so Sirius didn't think he'd been snooping about in there.
If there was one thing he could be grateful about when it came to the antagonism between Sirius and Kreacher, it was that the house-elf wouldn't be reporting his movements to his godfather, no matter how odd he acted.
Sirius came back with a list of three houses to look at, so they did that after lunch. The first was in Godric's Hollow, which ended in a stop by James and Lily's graves, a heart-rending experience all around. (Harry spent most of it holding tight to Sirius to keep himself from reaching for the Resurrection Stone, torn between the fear that it would work and they would be ashamed of him, and the fear that the horcrux wouldn't let them appear.)
The second house was in some little partially-magical village south-west of Chester, which neither of them were particularly impressed with, but both agreed it was probably a better choice than the one in Godric's Hollow, given the history of the latter.
The third house was outside Ottery St Catchpole, closer to the Diggorys than to the Weasleys or Lovegoods, but easily close enough that Harry could walk over to the Weasleys' within fifteen minutes. It was Harry's favourite of their options, both due to the location and because of the house itself, which was plenty big enough for a couple of guests and had a reasonable space for both Kreacher and a second house-elf, if Sirius wanted to get one. There was a small one-vehicle garage which Sirius seemed attached to, and Harry eventually remembered his motorcycle, which there wasn't space for at Grimmauld Place.
"So," Sirius said when they got back to Grimmauld Place, "last one?"
Harry immediately nodded. "Yeah."
"Brilliant. I'll go in on Thursday and finalise everything then."
Harry blinked. "Not tomorrow?"
Sirius snorted. "We're not moving on your birthday, pup."
"Oh." Harry shrugged and turned his attention to the food Kreacher had snapped in front of him. "Thanks, Kreacher!"
Kreacher's fingers snapped again and Harry's mashed potatoes developed a smile, which made Harry laugh and Sirius snort in amusement.
Harry's birthday was a surprisingly calm day, considering who was involved. He didn't bother sleeping in, knowing it would never work, and Sirius looked a little disappointed to see him up when he walked into the kitchen.
They spent the day out back in the overgrown garden. Sirius had intended to teach Harry how to fly, but upon realising he was a bloody natural, they moved on to tossing a quaffle back and forth for a while. Harry asked a couple of questions about the magical plants he saw and Sirius complained about having to brush off his rusty Herbology knowledge, but was otherwise perfectly happy to tell Harry, even going so far as to mention the most common potions each one was used in. (Harry suspected they'd all been planted to use in potions, though he didn't mention so.)
Lunch included a rather large cake, which was half vanilla, half chocolate, explaining the 'half-and-half' comment from Monday. Harry, who had an unapologetic appreciation for all things sweet, declared both halves his favourite – much to Sirius' amusement and Kreacher's pleasure – and spent an hour curled up on the couch in the drawing room after he ate way too much cake. (It would have been longer, but Kreacher finally took pity on him and went out to buy a potion; Sirius, for his part, thought the whole thing was hysterical, and totally deserved the bucket of ice water Kreacher dumped on his head, so far as Harry was concerned.)
Dinner was had out at a nice muggle restaurant. Once they were seated, Sirius explained, "This was the restaurant James proposed to Lily at," and Harry's eyes went wide, hungry for these little facts that no one had survived the war long enough to feed him, in that other reality.
Sirius turned and pointed to a table on the far side of the dining room, right next to a large window looking out over the street. "They sat over there," he explained, "and Remus and Peter and I sat at this table, providing moral support."
Harry, who knew well what sort of 'moral support' the Marauders were known for, snorted disbelievingly.
Sirius grinned. "Yeah, that was pretty much Lily's reaction when she found out we'd been there."
"So you mean you didn't cause a scene?" Harry joked.
Sirius shook his head and waited until after he'd given their orders to the waitress before admitting, "Remus brought some magical glue and applied it to our chairs before we sat down. He gave the solvent to James before we parted ways, so we had to wait for him to finish before we could get up."
Harry hid a laugh in his water glass, eyes bright.
Sirius waited until their food had come before explaining, "James'd wanted to make a big to-do about it, but he'd had to tone everything down when Lily insisted on a muggle place for their date; Remus suspected she'd known what was coming and wanted to enact a bit of pre-emptive damage control."
"Good choice," Harry announced, and Sirius chuckled.
"She was a scarily brilliant woman, your mum," he agreed fondly. "Best thing that could have happened to James, in the end." His expression dropped slightly before he forced a grin back into place.
"I wish I'd known them," Harry whispered.
Sirius reached across the table and squeezed Harry's hand. "I wish you could have known them too, pup." His smile eased back into place, a little sadder than before, but very much real. "They'd love you."
Harry swallowed and looked down into his dinner to hide his tears. He couldn't help but reach one hand up to touch the lump of the Resurrection Stone under his shirt, and he had to force himself not to turn the Stone. "How'd he do it?" he managed after a moment, voice a little wobbly. "Propose, I mean."
"Well, he must have got in with the staff beforehand," Sirius said without missing a beat, "because it was set in her ice cream, right under the cherry. It'd sunk into the whipped cream a bit, but the ring he'd got her had this ridiculously large diamond, so she saw the sparkle. Soon as he realised she'd seen it, he got down on his knees and asked all proper-like. She said yes, of course, but only after she'd taken her time about licking off the whipped cream."
Harry laughed at that, thinking, 'Yeah, they were well matched, Mum and Dad.'
"The whole place went up in cheers," Sirius added, smiling in memory. "The staff brought out champagne for everyone who wanted it, which James paid for. Bit of an unsteady crowd that left."
"I'll bet," Harry agreed, amused. "And then Dad came over to free you lot?"
Sirius snorted. "Yeah. S'how Lily found out we were there. She congratulated Remus on his forethought. They got on really well, Lily and Remus."
"He's still around, right?" Harry asked. He'd been trying to find a good way to bring the last Marauder up for the past couple of days.
"Should be," Sirius agreed with an easy shrug. "I'll see about sending him an owl on Friday, see if he'd like to stop by for a visit."
"Not tomorrow?" Harry asked innocently.
"Nah. We're moving tomorrow," Sirius replied, shaking his head. "He can wait a day."
Harry accepted that with a nod, though he knew the real reason for the delay was that Remus would likely be spending Thursday recovering from that night's moon; not for the first time, Harry was super glad that his curse was twisted.
Sirius didn't bother ordering pudding, their waitress just brought two ice creams with whipped cream and a cherry on top out with a wide grin. Harry laughed, knowing, now, why Sirius had ordered that particular pudding.
And then he found the diamond ring sinking into the whipped cream. "Oh," he whispered, tears springing to his eyes. It had been sized to fit his small fingers, so he could wear it around.
"I found it in your family vault," Sirius admitted with a sad smile. "Happy birthday, Harry."
Harry slid out of his chair and ran around the table to hug his godfather, the ring clenched tight in one fist.
It was, without question, the best birthday he'd ever had.
That night, Harry sat on his bed, staring out at the risen moon. He could feel her pull, and though he felt no need to answer it, he'd already locked his room door and managed a basic warning spell to let him know if Sirius came to wake him, in preparation of sleeping in his wolf form for the night.
Still, he wasn't quite ready to change, fingers tangled in the two rings he wore around his neck. Finally, he used the Resurrection Stone, turning the ring over in his hand three times.
"Hello, Harry."
They stood before him, not quite there, colours muted by the moonlight bathing the room. Lily was smiling, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear; the same ring that Harry held with the Peverell ring glinted on her finger, next to a smooth gold band. James, too, was smiling, the moonlight glinting off his crooked glasses and half hiding his eyes behind the reflection.
"Mum," Harry whispered, voice catching in his throat, "Dad."
Lily knelt in front of the bed, her eyes worried. "What is it, sweetheart?"
The endearment caught in Harry's throat and his eyes watered. He thought of the curse that set him apart, of the lives he was going to have to destroy just so the non-humans could have a chance. "How can you call me that?" he breathed. "I'm not– You shouldn't–"
"You are my son," Lily insisted, unbending, "and I love you. I will always love you, Harry."
"Even when I tear down the Ministry with my bare hands?" Harry asked.
"The Ministry is corrupt," James said, shaking his head. "It's long since time that someone gave them a hard kick in the arse." He sighed, then, and tilted his head so Harry could see the sadness behind the moon's reflection on his glasses. "You don't always get to choose your fate, Harry, and while we might not approve of how you intend to go about it, that won't make us love you any less. Just as hearing that you would have to be a murderer to get rid of Voldemort didn't make us hate you."
"We want you safe and happy, more than we want you to keep your hands clean," Lily added before holding up her own hands. "No one gets through a war without blood on their hands."
"Only fools and murderers start wars," Harry murmured. "Which am I?"
"You are a werewolf," James said, staring him down. "That's a different creature entirely."
Harry managed a wry smile. "Not inaccurate," he admitted, because he could feel that animal raging against the back of his mind every day, looking to tear down anything and everything that ever did him harm.
"We love you," James insisted, eyes firm, unbending. "We always have, and we always will. We may not wholly approve, but there is nothing in this world that you can do that will make us hate you. Right?"
Harry swallowed and nodded. "Right."
Lily brushed her hand against the back of Harry's, a brief touch of Death's chill. "When you see my sister again, remind her of the last time she and I had tea."
"Why?"
"Because I told her what I'd do to her if she ever had occasion to mistreat any magical children." Lily's smile was bloodthirsty, and Harry offered her one of his own back.
"Was it good?" he wanted to know.
Lily stood back up while James laughed, the sound mean as every time he did something horrible to Snape in school. "Let's just say," Lily told him, "that I wasn't entirely certain I knew spells to pull it off."
"You could just bite her."
"James! Don't you dare start telling your son to turn his aunt! It would be cruel to expect him to put up with her."
Harry laughed, loving the life in them, their honest acceptance of the weight on his shoulders. It made him breathe a little easier, and he let go of the Resurrection Stone with a lighter heart than when he'd first turned it over.
He quickly shucked off his trousers and stepped into the middle of his room. He clenched his jaw as tightly as he could, then let the change wash over him, whimpering in the back of his throat as the familiar agony rushed through him. When it was done, he crawled into his bed and burrowed under his heavy covers. He sent one last glance towards the moon glowing outside his widow, then turned his back on it and closed his eyes to sleep.
"Kreacher's coming with us, right?" Harry asked at breakfast the next morning.
Sirius blinked at him, clearly still half asleep, and mumbled, "Your attachment to that house-elf is actually sort of disturbing, pup."
Harry rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder at where Kreacher was cleaning some dishes and pretending he wasn't listening. "Your point being?" Harry asked of his godfather as he glanced back at the man.
Sirius snorted. "No point, just saying."
Harry huffed. "Look, he's been awesome the past couple days, even you have to admit that much. If you really can't bring yourself to play nice with him, the house has room for a second house-elf, so I can hang out with Kreacher while you get someone else to wait on you."
Sirius perked up. "Oh, hey, yeah, that's true. Didn't even think about getting a second elf. Kreacher can go off and play babysitter with you while I relax in luxury."
Harry snorted and got up to bring his dirty breakfast dishes to Kreacher. "Because I'm the one in need of a babysitter," he whispered to the house-elf and got a grin in response. To Sirius he announced, "I gonna go pack my things away, then."
"Let me know if you need any help," Sirius called after him as Harry started towards the stairs, and Harry waved an acknowledgement over his shoulder.
Harry didn't need any help, and Sirius was still working on packing his own things when he was done, so Harry rejoined Kreacher in the kitchen and offered, "Do you need any help?"
Kreacher shook his head from where he was directing those dishes Sirius hadn't made faces at into a box with expanded space inside. "Kreacher can do better on his own." He turned a quick smile on Harry to show he meant no disrespect by the comment. "Though," he added when Harry shrugged, unbothered, "Young Master Harry is very capable for his age."
"I'd be more capable if I wasn't limited by wandless magic," Harry admitted.
"Young Master Harry should have been born a house-elf."
Harry smiled sadly. "The outcome would have been about the same, in the end," he agreed quietly before glancing towards the stairs up to the ground floor, noticing the subtle strengthening of Sirius' scent, as though the man was attempting to sneak down the stairs. "Do you know what Sirius intends to do with the house?"
Kreacher shook his head. "Kreacher does not know Master's mind."
Harry nodded. "I half expect him to put it on the market, though he'll have to do something about those permanent sticking charms." He tapped his chin. "I'll have to ask him. I admit, there's a part of me that would like to see this turned into some sort of non-human sanctuary, and I'm sure Sirius would approve of letting werewolves live here just to spite Walburga's memory."
Sirius let out a sound that was half laugh, half cough and stepped into the kitchen. Kreacher looked vaguely surprised, but Harry just smiled. "There would be a certain poetic justice in letting werewolves spend the full moon in this place, wouldn't there?" he agreed cheerfully.
Harry shrugged. "I was thinking more of a full-time thing. You could let bedrooms out to werewolves who are having trouble meeting rent elsewhere because they can't keep a job, either charging them a pittance or doing it for free. Furnish the place with strong furniture and layer strengthening charms over all the walls and doors and they can have free range of the place during the full moon."
Sirius blinked, clearly surprised. "You've put thought into this," he said.
Harry huffed. "It's pretty obvious you hate this place, Sirius. I discovered werewolves exist, and I knew your mum would hate them taking over her house, so I figured that might be a good use for the place, especially since you keep complaining about not being able to get her picture out of the front hall, so I don't expect you can sell it."
Sirius nodded, gaze thoughtful. "Well, you're right about me not wanting the place, and about Mum's portrait making it difficult to sell off. And I do like the idea about populating the place with werewolves. Not sure how to manage cleaning, though..."
"Wall off the kitchen," Harry suggested; it was something he'd considered doing himself, after Kreacher's death, but he didn't want to deal with rerouting the floo, and he still enjoyed cooking sometimes. "You've got a dining room, might as well put it to use, and the floo could be rerouted to the drawing room, I assume?" Sirius nodded, eyeing Harry like he was trying to sort a puzzle. Harry almost shut up there, but this was too important to him, too much a part of who and what he was. "Hire a couple house-elves and give them the kitchen. Tell them to stay in here for the whole night on the full moon and then spend the morning cleaning up stuff, after everyone's human again. So long as the wolves can't get into the kitchen and the house-elves don't leave it, they won't get hurt."
Sirius watched him for a long moment in silence, thoughts moving lightning-quick behind grey eyes, before he gave a jerky nod. "Well, we've got time to think about it, and another house to set up first. Is your trunk packed?"
Harry resisted the urge to sigh. "Yeah. Are we flooing over?"
"Floo isn't set up yet. You get to discover the joys of apparation today." Harry made a face and Sirius laughed before turning to Kreacher. "Follow after us in a moment so you can look around," he ordered.
"Yes, Master," Kreacher murmured, ducking his head.
Harry let Sirius apparate him to the front stoop of the new house and stood back to let his godfather sort out the ring of keys – magically bonded to the house, so you couldn't just use an unlocking charm and walk right in – and let them inside.
"Did you want me to open everything up?" Harry suggested drily when Sirius dropped the key ring immediately after getting the door open, after having nearly done so multiple times while trying to find the key he'd needed. "You and Kreacher can manage moving things over here."
Sirius snorted and dropped the key ring into Harry's outstretched palm. "There should be two of each key. If you can figure out how to get them off the ring the muggle way, go ahead and take your set now. Otherwise, we'll sort it out over dinner."
Harry shrugged and twirled the ring on a finger, keys jingling quietly as they shifted with each rotation. "Okay."
Sirius shook his head and stepped back out onto the stoop to apparate back to Grimmauld Place.
Harry spent the next few minutes unlocking various doors inside and outside the house and removing keys from the ring. (He didn't even have to cheat and use wandless magic to get them off, which he was pretty sure deserved a medal.) By the time he finished, Sirius had brought Harry's things over from the bedroom in Grimmauld Place and put everything in the room Harry'd preferred of the options offered, so he set about unpacking and shoving ineffectually at his heavy furniture to try and get it into the positions he wanted them in.
It was about lunch time when someone knocked at the door. Since Harry wasn't certain where Sirius was, he hurried downstairs and opened the door himself to find Molly Weasley leading Bill and Charlie.
Bill's eyes went wide, but Molly offered Harry an adoring smile and asked, "Are your parents home, sweetheart?"
Harry shrugged, then glanced to one side and said, "Kreacher?"
The house-elf appeared immediately, looking slightly harried.
Harry covered a smile. "Where is he?"
Kreacher scowled. "Master is catching frogs," he reported irritably.
Harry couldn't stop a giggle. "Oh Merlin. Tell him we have guests, please?" As Kreacher popped away, Harry turned back to the Weasleys with an apologetic smile. "Sorry. My godfather will be right here."
Sirius was only a moment longer, mud staining the hem of his robes and following him as footprints. "I'm pretty sure you're too young to be answering the door," he informed Harry, one eyebrow raised.
"I'm pretty sure you're too old to be hunting frogs to leave in my bed," Harry retorted with a roll of his eyes. Sirius grinned, unrepentant. "You're trailing mud. If Kreacher kills you in your sleep, I'm letting him speak at your funeral."
"Not even vaguely funny," Sirius informed him as he shot a sloppy cleaning charm over his shoulder. Then he flashed a winning smile at the Weasleys, holding out a hand for Molly. "I'm Sirius Black, and this is my godson, Harry."
"Harry Potter?" Charlie breathed.
Harry resisted the urge to groan. Barely.
Molly reached back and lightly smacked Charlie's shoulder before taking Sirius' hand, juggling a basket hung over one arm in the process. "I'm Molly Weasley and these are my eldest two, Bill and Charlie. We heard there was a new neighbour and I thought I'd bring you something for lunch, since I wasn't sure you'd have the chance to make something yourself."
"Harry appreciates it," Sirius promised, "but he seems to have an abhorrence for pub food."
Harry rolled his eyes but didn't bother trying to correct his godfather, because it wasn't an abhorrence for anything, but a preference for homemade meals that had him turning his nose up at pub food.
"Please, won't you come in," Sirius offered, stepping back and holding the door open further. "I'm afraid we're still moving furniture over, but I'm pretty sure Kreacher has brought the dining room table, at least."
"We wouldn't want to intrude," Molly insisted, though it was clear – to Harry, at least – that she very much wanted to visit with them for a bit. She'd never been a gossip of Petunia's level, but she did like knowing what was going on in the neighbourhood. Which, really, when you had seven children running around, wasn't a bad plan.
"It's no intrusion," Sirius promised, motioning for them to enter.
The adults took the lead towards the kitchen, leaving Harry with the older boys. Charlie immediately said, "So, you're Harry Potter, huh?"
"So they tell me!" Harry replied cheerfully.
A hand ruffled his hair and he shot an amused look at Bill. "How's it going then, Growly?" he teased.
Harry flashed him a bright grin. "Awesome. Sirius is my absolute favourite godparent."
Bill snorted. "Do you even have a godmum?"
"Nope!"
Bill and Charlie both let out loud laughs.
"Where're the rest of your siblings?" Harry asked as they all sat down around the table, the three boys a bit removed from the two adults. Dishes appeared before everyone and Harry glanced towards Kreacher's room. "Thanks, Kreacher," he called as Molly dished out the sandwiches and crisps. Not that he expected a response, it was just polite.
"Mum didn't want to overwhelm you, and she didn't know who all had moved in, so she brought me and Charlie," Bill explained. "Dad's in from work to keep an eye on everyone else."
"Mum'd probably have brought Ron and Ginny if she knew you were here," Charlie commented. "Same age and all."
Harry made a face. "Nothing against your siblings or anything, but Ron and Ginny'd probably drive me mad within five minutes."
"Yeah, you're a bit too old for them," Bill agreed drily, though amusement glinted in his eyes.
"Young in body, old in soul," Harry agreed and Charlie laughed a bit disbelievingly. Harry just shrugged, unbothered, and started in on his sandwich.
They were all quiet for a moment, then Bill set about telling Harry about his siblings and the three other magical families with kids in the area. Harry already knew about all the Weasleys, of course, and Luna. And he had a passing knowledge of Cedric. The last family, the Fawcetts, had one daughter who was a year older than Harry and a son who was Ginny's age, neither of whom Harry had any memories of. (He assumed they'd both been in either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, since he knew all of the Gryffindors in those years and most of the Slytherins.)
It wasn't a bad lunch, all things considered. When the Weasleys left, Bill giving another fond tousle to Harry's hair, Sirius warned him that he would be taking part in many, many playdates with the large family. Harry resisted the urge to groan; as much as he'd enjoy spending time with those he'd called his family in another reality, he wasn't much looking forward to dealing with a super young Ron. Maybe he'd fall in with Fred and George until Ron outgrew his childishness? (It should only take a war.)
"I get the sense that you're not excited about spending time with kids your age," Sirius commented before Harry could escape to his room.
Harry pointed at himself. "Have you met me? Do I act like I'll have fun hanging around with other five year olds?"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "You'll survive," he promised. "Anyway, they're not all five."
Harry nodded. "This is true. One of them is four."
"You are such a drama queen," Sirius informed him and Harry snorted, amused. "I'm going to head in to the Ministry to get the floo connected and buy a second house-elf. Can I trust you to not do anything that will result in a run to St Mungo's?"
"I make no promises," Harry replied with a flash of a smile that spelled trouble.
Sirius laughed and ruffled his hair as he walked past him on the way to the front door.
Harry grinned to himself and returned to his bedroom.
Stand Against the Moon Chapters:
Prologue - Like a Ghost in My Town
1 - Procuring Freedom | 2 - Exeunt From Hell, Stage Left |
4 - Drop the Shades | 5 - The Little Victories | 6 - Uneasy Alliance
7 - Determining Boundaries | 8 - International Acclaim | 9 - Age of Mystery
10 - Absence | 11 - Eye of the Storm | 12 - No Regrets
Nose to the Wind Chapters:
01 || 02 || 03 || 04 || 05 || 06 || 07 || 08 || 09 || 10
11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 || 18 || 19 || 20
21 || 22 || 23 || 24 || 25 || 26 || 27
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