Secrets of the Serpent House

The Black family library was as foreboding as the rest of Grimmlaud Place, if not more so. Harry stood at the entrance, peering into the dimly lit room. Tall, dusty shelves lined the walls, crammed with ancient tomes bound in dark leather. Flickering candles cast eerie shadows, and the faint smell of old parchment and something more sinister lingered in the air.

Sirius had just told Harry that he was a dark wizard, and that was okay with Harry. Until now Harry had never realised how close minded his view on the world was but after that, after everything he had seen and been through, he was beginning to understand that the world was not as black and white as he had thought. His curiosity about the Dark Arts, though tinged with nervousness, was undeniable. Sirius had said it was okay for him to look at the library, said that being able to find the library meant that Harry might have an affinity for the Dark Arts. Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that exactly, but it couldn't hurt to just look at the library, right?

Stepping inside, Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. The room was cold, almost unnaturally so, and the silence was oppressive. Yet, something about the place drew him in, a soothing hum of magic he couldn't quite pinpoint. He moved slowly along the rows of books, his eyes scanning the titles. Some were written in languages he couldn't read, French he guessed, Sirius had told him his family was French and others had titles that made his blood run cold.

One book caught his eye: "Foundations of the Dark Arts". Harry hesitated, then reached out and pulled it from the shelf. The cover was rough under his fingers, and the pages felt oddly warm as he flipped through them. Spells he had never heard of before, potions with ingredients he could barely imagine, and rituals for every situation.

His heart raced as he read, the initial nervousness giving way to fascination. He felt a strange sense of belonging here, as if he belonged in this library. He lost track of time as he delved deeper into the book, absorbing every word, every incantation.

The sound of the door creaking open startled him, and he looked up to see Sirius standing there, a bemused expression on his face.

"Harry, you missed lunch and dinner," Sirius said, stepping into the room. "I thought you'd gotten lost."

Harry blinked, surprised. "I did? I didn't realise..."

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "I should have known. This place has a way of doing that to you."

Harry smiled sheepishly, then noticed Sirius's eyes on the book he was holding.

"That one," Sirius said softly, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I bought that for Regulus, ma petite étoile, when I left for Hogwarts for the first time. So he wouldn't be too bored without me."

Harry looked down at the book, feeling a pang of sympathy for Sirius. "Did he like it?"

Sirius laughed. "He loved it, sent me a letter everyday telling me everything he'd learnt and peppering me with questions." He paused, then looked at Harry seriously. "You know, I could teach you some of the spells in there. If you're interested."

Harry's eyes widened. "Really? I can do them without... what did you call it again?"

"Declaring. Yes you can do these ones without declaring, it's the more advanced spells that need to be performed by the fully declared Dark Wizard."

"I'd love to, but I can't. The Ministry tracker... they'll know if I do any magic."

A sly grin spread across Sirius's face. "Ah, but there's a way around that. Follow me."

Curiosity piqued, Harry followed Sirius out of the library and down the winding corridors of Grimmlaud Place. They stopped in front of a heavy wooden door that Harry had never seen before. Sirius pushed it open, revealing a small, candlelit room with a large, ornate silver bathtub in the centre.

"This," Sirius explained, "is a ritual bath. It's an old Black family secret. It removes the Ministry's tracking charms, my family has been removing tracking charms from their children for generations."

Harry stared at the bathtub, then back at Sirius. "Seriously? That's incredible!"

Kreacher popped into the room then, teeth bared in a wicked smile. "Master would like ritual bath filled?"

Sirius nodded. "Yes thank you, Kreacher." Then he turned back to Harry, "Let us prepare it then you can get in. It'll take a few minutes to work."

Harry watched awed as Sirius moved around the room with a determined air, gathering various ingredients and tools for the ritual bath.

"Sirius, are you sure this will work?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius looked up from the bath water he was stirring, his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "Trust me, Harry. The Ministry has no right to track you like this. We'll get rid of that bloody tracker, and then you'll be free."

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. The thought of being free from the Ministry's constant surveillance filled him with a cautious hope. He watched as Sirius carefully measured out powdered moonstone and added it to the bath, causing the water to shimmer with a silvery light.

"This is an old Black family ritual," Sirius explained, his tone both proud and sombre. "It's powerful, but it requires absolute concentration. Once you're in the bath, you need to stay completely still and focus on your intent to break the spell."

Harry glanced at the makeshift bath Sirius had prepared. The water glowed faintly, reflecting the moonlight and the flickering candles that Sirius had placed around the tub in a precise pattern.

"Alright, Harry," Sirius said, turning to face him. "It's time. Step into the bath."

With a mixture of nerves and determination, Harry approached the basin and slowly stepped into the warm water. Despite his clothes being drenched the heat was soothing, and he felt some of his tension melt away. Sirius began to chant softly in Latin that Harry couldn't understand, his voice steady and rhythmic. The air in the room seemed to thrum with magic, and Harry closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of the water and the sound of Sirius's voice.

As the chant continued, Harry felt a tingling sensation spread through his body. The water around him began to swirl, forming intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with energy. He concentrated on the idea of freedom, of breaking free from the Ministry's watchful eye. The tingling grew stronger, almost to the point of discomfort, but Harry remained still, trusting in Sirius's guidance.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crack, and Harry felt a brief, intense pain in his chest. He gasped, his eyes flying open. The water in the bath surged, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire room was spinning. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the sensation faded, and the water stilled.

Harry looked up at Sirius, who had stopped chanting and was watching him with an anxious expression. "Did it work?" Harry asked, his voice hoarse.

Sirius smiled, relief evident in his eyes. "Yes, Harry. The tracker is gone."

Harry felt a wave of gratitude and relief wash over him. He climbed out of the basin, dripping with the enchanted water, and wrapped a towel around himself. Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

"You're free now. No more Ministry eyes on you."

Harry nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his face. For the first time in what felt like ages, he truly felt a sense of freedom. He looked at Sirius, his godfather, and felt a deep appreciation for the lengths he had gone to protect him.

"Thank you, Sirius," Harry said sincerely.

Sirius grinned, ruffling Harry's damp hair. "Anytime, kiddo. Now, let's get you dried off and into some clean clothes. Then we can get to work."

They returned to the library, and Sirius began to teach Harry some of the spells from the book. The incantations were complex, and the wand movements intricate, but Harry found that he had a natural aptitude for it. Even more than he did for DADA, which way ironic in and of itself. Sirius guided him patiently, correcting his form and explaining the theory behind each spell.

Hours flew by as Harry practised, his initial nervousness completely forgotten in the excitement of learning something new. He felt a thrill every time he successfully cast a spell, the rush of magic coursing through him like a powerful current.

Sirius watched him with a proud smile. "You're a natural, Harry. Just like a Black."

Harry beamed, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Thanks, Sirius. This is... amazing. I never knew the Dark Arts could be like this."

Sirius nodded. "There's a lot of power here, but it's all about how you use it. Remember that."

As they continued to practise, he felt a new bond forming between them. This bond had nothing to do with Harry's dad or Sirius' obligation as a godfather. This was just two people who enjoyed spending time together and a shared understanding that went beyond the magic they were learning.

Eventually, exhaustion began to catch up with Harry, and he let out a tired yawn.

Sirius chuckled. "Alright, I think that's enough for today. You should get some rest."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right."

As they made their way back to their rooms, Harry felt a deep sense of gratitude toward Sirius. He had given him more than just knowledge; he had given him a new perspective, a new way of seeing the world. And for that, Harry would be forever grateful.

~

The schooling year was about to begin and the cobblestones of Diagon Alley bustled with wizards and witches going about their business. The summer sun cast a warm glow over the enchanting street, making the magical signs and shop displays shimmer with otherworldly light. Amidst the throng, two figures moved with purpose, their appearances altered by careful disguises. Harry Potter, his lightning-shaped scar hidden beneath a mop of brown hair, walked beside his godfather, Sirius Black, whose normally gaunt face was hidden behind a glamour charm that made him look like an ordinary middle-aged wizard.

Harry adjusted the collar of his plain robes, trying to ignore the itchiness of his eyes that Sirius had temporarily corrected so he could forgo his glasses. "Are you sure this is necessary?" he muttered.

Sirius glanced around, his eyes twinkling with mischief beneath his transformed appearance. "Can't be too careful, Harry. With all that's going on, we can't risk being recognised."

Harry nodded, though he couldn't help feeling a bit wrong footed. It was the first time he and Sirius had ventured into Diagon Alley together for his school supplies, and despite the disguises, he felt a thrill of excitement. They began their shopping at Madam Malkin's, where Harry was fitted for new school robes. As the witch measured him, Sirius inspected the latest fashions with exaggerated interest, making Harry stifle a laugh.

Next, they visited Flourish and Blotts for his textbooks. Harry selected the required books, while Sirius browsed the shelves, occasionally slipping a book into their basket with a conspiratorial wink. Harry's pile grew with each addition, and he wondered how he'd manage to carry everything back to Grimmlaud.

Their next stop was Slug & Jiggers Apothecary for potion ingredients. The pungent smells of various brews filled the air as they navigated the crowded shop. Sirius watched as Harry carefully selected the items on his list, occasionally offering tips and recalling stories from his own school days. 

Their last stop before Gringotts was Ollivanders. Even though Harry didn't need a new wand, he couldn't resist the urge to visit the shop where he had first experienced the magic of wandlore. They exchanged pleasantries with Mr. Ollivander, who seemed to look right through their disguises but said nothing, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on Harry for a moment.

"Now, Harry," Sirius said as they left Ollivanders, "I need to pop into Gringotts for a bit. Some... business to attend to. Why don't you have a look around the pet shop? It's just down the way. I'll meet you there in about an hour."

Harry's curiosity was piqued, but he didn't press for details. He nodded, watching as Sirius blended into the crowd, heading towards the imposing white marble building. Turning towards the pet shop, Harry felt a flutter of excitement. He'd always loved animals, and the Magical Menagerie was one of his favourite places in Diagon Alley.

The shop was a riot of noise and colour. Birds of all kinds chattered and squawked from their cages, while cats of every size and pattern prowled the shelves. Magical creatures of all sorts filled the shop, and Harry found himself drawn to a corner where a large, coiled snake lay in a glass enclosure. The serpent's scales shimmered with a subtle iridescence, and its eyes seemed to bore into Harry's own.

"Hello there." Harry whispered, feeling a strange connection to the creature. He knew he could speak to it, but he was careful to keep his voice low, not wanting to draw attention from surrounding customers.

The snake lifted its head slightly, flicking its tongue in greeting. "Greetings, Speaker," she hissed softly, barely audible over the din of the shop.

"Would you like to come with me?" he asked quietly.

The snake regarded him for a long moment before nodding its head. "Yes, I would like to go with Speaker."

Harry approached the shopkeeper, a kindly old witch who seemed more interested in her knitting than the customers. "I'd like to buy this snake, please," he said.

The witch looked up, peering over her spectacles. "Ah, that one. A rare find, it is. Quite dangerous, too. Are you sure, dear?"

Harry nodded, and after a brief exchange of galleons, the snake was his. He eyes the specially enchanted carrier the shopkeeper provided before letting the snake rest along his shoulders instead. She gently butted her head against the underneath of Harry's chin as she settled, he smiled, he would have to think of a name for her. Feeling a sense of satisfaction as he left the shop. He waited outside for Sirius, ignoring the passersby who flinched away from him once they spotted his snake.

Sirius arrived a short while later, a satisfied look on his face. He raised an eyebrow at Harry's purchase. "A snake, eh? Interesting choice."

Harry shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious. He had always liked snakes but he had alternative reasons for purchasing this one.

The snake lifted her head from the boy's shoulder to regard the man in front of them. "Another Speaker?"

"No," Harry hissed back sadly. "Sirius is... well, my guardian- parent, I suppose."

The snake turned her calculating gaze to Harry. "I did not realise Speaker was so young, still a hatchling."

Harry blushed and turned away from the snake as Sirius's face broke into a grin at witnessing the pair hiss to one another. "Smart thinking, Harry. Subtle and strategic. Walburga would be proud."

The rest of the shopping trip passed in a blur of laughter and camaraderie. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the alley, Harry and Sirius made their way back home.

Back at Grimmlaud Place, Harry carefully released his new snake into a specially prepared habitat in his room. The snake curled up contentedly, and Harry felt a surge of affection for the creature. He knew it would serve as a reminder of his Parselmouth ability and he was excited, Ron and Hermione had never liked Harry speaking Parseltongue, said it was creepy but Harry had a feeling things would be different in Slytherin.

Sirius watched from the doorway, a proud smile on his face.

As Harry settled into bed that night, he felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in a long time. 

~

All to quickly the break had come to an end and it was time from Harry to leave the home he had made with Sirius in Grimmlaud Place, even Walburga had seemed somewhat sad to see him go, and return to what would undoubtably be another challenging year at Hogwarts school of  Witchcraft and Wizardry.

King's Cross Station was bustling with the usual throng of students, parents, and the occasional magical creature. Harry Potter stood with Sirius Black in a secluded corner, both of them disguised and surrounded by the subtle hum of repelling charms. It was an emotional farewell, more so than either would openly admit.

Sirius, his appearance altered by a Polyjuice Potion, looked nothing like himself. He had once again taken on the form of a nondescript middle-aged man, blending seamlessly with the crowd. Despite the disguise, the bond between him and Harry was unmistakable. The two stood close, the air around them charged with unspoken words and shared apprehension.

"Before you go there is something I want to give you." With a solemn sigh, Sirius withdrew a small velvet box from within his robes. The box itself seemed to exude an air of ancient authority, bearing the crest of the noble House of Black.

"Now remember what I taught you, Harry," Sirius said, his voice low but firm. "You're ready for this. Whatever happens, just be yourself. The rest will follow."

Harry nodded, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves. "Thanks, Sirius. For everything."

Sirius pulled him into a brief, fierce hug. "Take care, kid. And write to me as soon as you can. Let me know how everything goes."

"I will," Harry promised, pulling back. "Take care of yourself too."

With one last lingering look, Harry turned and walked toward Platform 9¾. He could feel Sirius's eyes on him until he passed through the barrier and emerged on the other side. The scarlet Hogwarts Express awaited, billowing clouds of steam and filled with the cacophony of excited voices.

Harry quickly found an empty compartment and slipped inside. He drew the curtains and locked the door with one of the spells Sirius had taught him. A sense of quiet settled over him, a small haven amidst the chaos of the station.

He sat back, his thoughts wandering to the fight he had had with Ron and Hermione a few days ago. Their disagreement had left him feeling isolated and hurt. He had spent the last few days at Grimmlaud Place avoiding their letters and trying to focus on his time with Sirius. But the sting of their words still lingered and Harry was not ready to forgive and forget quite yet.

As the train began to move, Harry's mind wandered to the impending resorting ceremony. His previous experiences at Hogwarts had been shaped by his identity as a Gryffindor, but now, everything felt uncertain. Both he and Sirius believed he might be sorted into Slytherin this time. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. Harry had come to understand that being a Slytherin wasn't inherently bad; it was all about what you made of it. But the potential challenges and prejudices he might face weighed heavily on his mind.

The journey to Hogwarts seemed to stretch on forever. Harry spent the time attempting to bask in the calm that surrounded him before it would inevitably be destroyed by his re-sorting. The compartment remained locked, ensuring his privacy and allowing him to breathe. His new snake settled across his shoulders happily, basking in the sun. He really had to think of a name for her.

Hours later, the train finally pulled into Hogsmeade Station. Harry disembarked, joining the throng of students heading toward the carriages that would take them to the castle. He felt a jolt of nerves as he neared the gates of Hogwarts, the towering structure looming ahead.

He could do this. Everything would be fine.

At least he hoped it would.