Chapter 2
As Harry stepped in the house, he was met with the smell of must. Sneezing, he looked around and saw a small hallway with a door at the end, next to a stairway. He started following everyone else down the hallway, but was stopped.
“You can’t go in there, Harry. You should go upstairs for now. Your friends are probably waiting for you.”
“Sure, thanks Professor Lupin.”
“Call me Remus.”
Harry nodded his head, and started making his way up the stairs, passing a set of curtains in the middle of the hallway. He stopped in front of a room on the third floor, hearing Ron and Hermione’s voices inside. He wanted to continue to explore and figure out what the house was all about, plus he didn’t fancy seeing his so-called friends at the moment. But he wanted to try to stay on the good side of as many people as possible, so he went inside. Plus, nobody told him he had to actually talk to Ron and Hermione.
As soon as Harry opened the door, all the talking inside ceased. Hermione flung herself at Harry, capturing him in an awkward hug, which he did not return. “Harry I’ve missed you so much”
“It’s good to see you mate”
Harry politely inclined his head. Seeing a desk in the far corner, he walked up and sat on it, looking around the room. There was a bed, and a cot obviously meant for Harry. The bed was covered by a knit orange duvet. Piles of clothes were piled around the room, showing that someone had been staying in the room for a while. That idea sparked anger in Harry. Why was he left out of the loop?
“So what’s this house about anyway?” Hermione seemed surprised there was no outburst, and was happy to answer Harry’s question.
“This is Sirius’s old house, and the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, a light side organization run by Dumbledore to fight against He Who Must Not Be Named.”
“Cool”
“You don’t have any question”
“Nope”
“You know we wanted to write to you over the summer” Ron looked less stressed after giving his thought. Like it was rehearsed…
“But you didn’t”
——
After a few moments of awkward silence, Harry became bored, opting to get up and walk downstairs. He passed some weird curtains for the second time. Why would one have curtains in the middle of a house? He made an impulsive decision and opened them, revealing a portrait of a mean looking old lady. She seemed at a loss for words, surprised that the curtains were open on purpose.
“Who are you?”
Responding in a quiet but firm voice, the painting responded, “Why I am Walburga Black. The real question is, who are you?”
“I’m Harry Potter”
“You! You're the son of a mudblood who killed my master.”
“Technically yes, but he did kill my mother first.”
Walburga analyzed Harry like he was under a microscope. “I like you, but you're still the light son of a mudblood and traitor.”
Harry muttered his next words , “Who said I was light?”
At that moment, the door at the end of the hallway opened, causing Walburga to close her curtains,and around ten people poured out. Among those ten was Sirius Black.
——
Harry had been looking forward to seeing his godfather for a while. There didn't seem to be anyone else able to listen to his problems and help him. Ron tried, but never understood. Sirius had struggled in his lifetime many ways, some of which were similar to Harry’s own struggles. Sirius was the parent Harry never had.
——
“Harry”
“Sirius” was muffled by Harry’s face being pressed up against Sirius’s shoulder. When Harry stepped back, he noticed Sirius looked a lot healthier but his eyes held none of the sparkle they used to.
“How have you been”
“Good I guess, mostly bored”
“You look good,” Sirius exclaimed, leading Harry into the kitchen, a room filled with the smell of Molly Weasley’s cooking.
The kitchen was a large room, half filled with kitchen tools and basic appliances. On the other side, a large table with long benches resembling a Hogwarts table sat. The sink was filled with dishes, and dust coated the corners of the room. Multiple people sat at the table with food, and Harry recognized a few.
A second later Ron,Hermione,Fred,George, and Ginny entered the room grabbing plates to start eating. Harry soon followed suit, grabbing only a small portion of food, not feeling very appetized. He was able to eat in peace for a few minutes.
——
“Harry, don't you have any questions?” Harry loved Sirius, but sometimes he wished Sirius would shut up.
“Nope” Harry responded neutrally, a headache starting to form.
Molly Weasley of course had to insert herself into the conversation, “We wouldn't have been able to answer them anyways, right Sirius.”(editor's note I don't know how to punctuate this)
“Oh yeah right”
“Oh actually I do have one question.”
“And that question is…”
“Why was I left alone.” The silence that followed was suffocating. As much as Harry didn’t want to care, he still did. Maybe he was done being who everyone wanted him to be, but it didn’t change the fact that these were the people he trusted. At least they looked down in shame. Harry wouldn’t forget, maybe he would forgive, but never forget.
“See I told you Molly.”
“Oh do be quiet, Sirius. Harry dear, Dumbledore thought it was best, he didn’t want to give you information you didn’t need to know.”
Harry didn’t know how to respond, so he chose instead to go back to eating, thoughts of Dumbledore flying through his mind.
——
The rest of the meal finished in peace, Ron stuffing his mouth full. On their way to bed Harry asked Sirius for a room of his own, he couldn’t pretend not to be mad at Ron. Sirius of course had the perfect option right next to his own room.
The room was large but still small enough to be cozy. It was located at the corner of the house, so moonlight shone into the house through two large windows. Harry thought they would be perfect for staring out. The room also had an actual bed, and not a cot for Harry.
“I hope you like it.”
“I do.”
“Goodnight”
“Goodnight, Sirius.” Was heard as Sirius left Harry’s room and walked the five steps to his own room.
Harry’s headache had gotten progressively worse and he hoped it might wear off during the night. Unfortunately he knew that nightmares usually followed his headaches, but he could still hope. The Dursley’s had become angry multiple times when the nightmares included screaming.Would the people in the house even notice his screaming? How would they react? Closing his eyes, Harry hoped for a night with dreamless sleep.