chapter two (flashback)
15 June 1993
Harry laid in bed his first night at Grimmauld deep in thought. Bella, Regulus, and Narcissa had spent nearly three hours regaling him with the tale of the first Wizarding War. They had, in fact, started much earlier than that, going all the way back to New Year’s Eve 1926 and the birth of a young boy called Tom Riddle. Harry, who was all too aware of who he would become, listened raptly to the tale of how Tom Riddle became Voldemort. He learned about the Gaunt family, Wool’s Orphanage, and 1940’s London. There was something terrifying about the idea that Voldemort grew up under constant threat of an air strike.
Beyond Voldemort, Harry learned about the most recent generation of the House of Black. Sirius Black, his godfather, was Regulus’ older brother who fled Grimmauld when he was fifteen. They talked in hushed voices of evenings spent playing during their parents’ important family dinners, doing their best not to attract attention. He learned that Regulus had become a Death Eater, as had Bella, and Narcissa had been forced into an arranged marriage to one. Andy and Sirius had been spared only by being disowned. Harry listened to the horrors of the House of Black with grim familiarity. He may not have been tortured with magic, but the Dursleys had abused him all the same.
They had also told him about his mum and dad, both of whom had apparently been queer and in a poly relationship with Regulus until he took the dark mark. He had not been expecting that, and his reaction had caused Regulus to think he was homophobic. This led to Harry panickedly coming out. It was a good thing that he wasn’t because it seemed like everyone in his parents’ generation was queer. Sirius was dating Remus Lupin, one of his dad’s mates. Mum was briefly with someone called Mary, who was best friends with Regulus’ best friend’s girlfriend. Regulus’ other two male best friends were shagging. Bella and Narcissa had both had girlfriends before their marriages. It was hard to keep track of in all honesty.
He fell asleep that night and dreamt of his parents. For once, they were pleasant dreams, undoubtedly fuelled by the stories he’d been told the night before. He woke warm, content, and a little disoriented. His room at Grimmauld was far larger than his room on Privet Drive, so it took him a moment to adjust upon waking. He knew that Bella and Reg would be the only ones there that morning. Narcissa was still staying at Malfoy Manor, coming over when she could to teach Harry etiquette and ballroom dancing. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to her visits.
Today, Harry was supposed to have a dueling assessment and work on summer homework. He was about to climb out of bed, when the familiar sound of house elf apparition reverberated around the room. Kreature appeared. Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about the elf. He was a bit mad, constantly muttering to himself. Regulus said that his parents had indoctrinated him from birth, so he was prone to blood supremacist outbursts. Still, he seemed to like Regulus, and Regulus trusted him.
“Little Black Heir should come down for breakfast with Master Regulus and Miss Bellatrix.” Harry could kill Bella for the nickname.
“Thanks, Kreature. I’ll be right down.” The elf said nothing else, popping away. Harry took a moment to somewhat settle his bedhead before heading downstairs, where Bella and Regulus were seated at the kitchen table, plates already in front of them. He took the seat across from them, and a plate appeared.
“Good morning, Little Potter.” He rolled his eyes.
“Good morning, Bellatrix.” She glared at him. He grinned back.
“Are you ready to duel, Harry?” Regulus interrupted, a wicked gleam in his eye that Harry absolutely did not like.
“How will that work with the trace?” It had been on his mind since Regulus had mentioned it. He waved him off.
“The Grimmauld wards negate it.”
“We all used to play sting tag while our parents’ got drunk after dinner,” Bella said, a fond lilt in her voice that made Harry’s heart ache a little. The Black cousins’ had been fucked royally by their family, fate, and Albus Dumbledore, and Harry wished he could go back and fix it all for them. It was odd to be so attached to people he had only just met. Then again, had his parents lived, he would have grown up with Regulus. The thought tugged at something in his chest, so he pushed it away and focused back on the conversation.
“I hope you know that I have yet to have a competent defence professor.” Regulus frowned at this.
“I’m aware. I remember Lockhart from school. He was a fucking idiot back then too.” Harry snorted into the tea he had just raised to his lips. Breakfast finished rather quickly, and soon Harry found himself in the cellar of Grimmauld Place.
“I put cushioning charms on the floor and walls,” Bella assured him upon seeing his concerned face. “This is the only big enough space to properly duel.” Harry nodded slowly.
“We’re going to start slow, more trading spells than dueling. Once I have a grasp of your level, I’ll meet you where you are, and we’ll climb from there.”
The lesson was grueling, and Harry was sure he was mostly black and blue by the end. Even so, he felt more alive than he had in ages. Regulus spent nearly two hours working with him, Bella leaving at the halfway point to run errands. As promised, Regulus had not immediately started throwing spells. Instead he worked Harry to the brink of his abilities and then a step further. Although Regulus had put him on his arse every single time, Harry felt powerful. He could practically hear the magic humming in his blood, singing a song meant only for him. Pleased with how the morning had gone, Harry followed Regulus up the stairs and to the kitchen where Kreature had set out tea and snacks.
They spent the rest of the time until lunch breaking down the session, talking through what could have been better, what spells worked, and what spells he absolutely needed to learn. After lunch, Harry was banished from the kitchen to do homework until he finished an assignment. It wasn’t until after dinner that things got particularly interesting.
Regulus and Bella had told him to come to the drawing room, which he had, confused and uneasy. His confusion was not abated when he laid eyes on the stone basin sitting on the table. There was a silver-blue glowing liquid inside. Bella gestured for him to sit on the couch in front of it. After a tense moment, Regulus spoke.
“This is a pensieve. It lets you view the memories of others as though you were actually there.” Harry furrowed his brows. Why were they showing this to him?
“Reg, Cissa, and I were all at Hogwarts with your parents,” Bella spoke up tentatively. Harry’s heart constricted painfully. He could see his parents.
“I can hear their voices,” he choked out, pushing back on the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes.
The rest of the evening was spent viewing memories. Regulus, Bella, and Cissa had good ones of themselves and his parents and their friends. Harry got a good idea of who Mum, Dad, Moony, Pads, Wormtail, Marls, Mary, and others had been. Nearly every time he came out of a memory he was crying, and they offered to stop, but he shook his head. They kept at it, Harry even occasionally offering memories of his first and second years, until Regulus finally declared that it was time for bed. Grumbling that he was not a child in need of a bedtime, Harry complied, curling up in his bed and drifting off. He only woke once that night when Bella crept nearly silently into the room and pulled the covers up around him more tightly, whispering a soft goodnight as she left.