Home
After lunch we return to Grimmauld place where the restoration efforts are in full swing. Every room seems to be teeming with dark objects and curses intended to hurt muggles and blood traitors.
The portrait of Walburga Black is my first assignment. Mostly because she doesn’t shriek and bellow when I come into view.
A pureblood witch who last time she knew was an ally of the Dark Lord is practically a part of the family apparently.
I decide not to begin with getting her down from the wall using force. She’ll turn on me in a second.
So rather I spend a lot of time talking through solutions with Hermione.
“Do you think I could use a sticking charm on the curtains?”
“Remus tried that. She won’t even let the curtains be closed.”
“Perhaps I could just talk her into residing someplace else. She could go find her sister at my family’s manor. It’s just sitting empty,” I offer.
“Maybe we’d all be better staying there,” Hermione says, making it clear she doesn’t think Walburga Black is going to be chased from her house by “filth” and “half-breeds.”
“It’s too far away to be of any real help. I’ve offered it to Dumbledore as a safehouse, but it would make a terrible base of operations.”
“This isn’t much better. The whole house is set up as one big mouse trap.”
“But it is here, in London. Besides, it’ll clean up nicely. I’m forever grateful Sirius came back here. I might have stayed on that shelf forever.”
Hermione pales slightly and I feel bad I’ve made her uncomfortable.
“And you are sure Remus has tried everything to get it down?”
She nods. “At least every spell we could think of. Even tried a crowbar.”
So magic or no magic, she is a stubborn old cow.
“Perhaps I could find something in my family’s library. Fancy a trip to Dorset?”
“To your family’s manor?”
I stand up and summon my shoes.
“Only if you'd like. It’s nothing like this place.”
It’s true. Where Grimmauld Place is like a torture chamber made into a house, my home is warm and bright.
“Sure. Let me grab my shoes,” she smiles.
I watch as she scurries off. I’ll have to remember she can’t perform magic.
No leaving her behind anywhere.
When she pops back down into the kitchen we write a not to Molly not to worry.
“Oh, and I should mention. I have a few house elves at the manor,” I say as I grab the floo powder.
She is about to say something but I just throw down the powder and call out the name of my home.
“Fawley Manor.”
We fall past so many grates I almost forget to keep my elbows tucked in.
Stepping out quickly, I laugh looking at Hermione.
She’s got powder in her hair.
I use a quick Scourgify on both of us.
The Manor is dark. Low sunlight streaming from high windows is the only source of light.
“Lumos Maxima.”
We are standing in the entryway. Except it looks nothing like it did when I left a few-.
“Years. It’s been years,” I whisper. “Bosky!” I call out, an edge of panic in my voice. They’ve been alone here for years.
“Mistress!” Bosky appears in front of us out of thin air. “Oh we just knew you were alive! Welcome home Mistress! We have kept everything ready. We knew you would come back.”
He runs forward and wraps his arms around my leg.
“I’m so sorry, Bosky. I didn’t mean to be gone so long,” I say through my tears.
He cries too and then three more house elves appear in the room.
It doesn’t take very long for them to join in on the crying.
I am reminded of the day Bosky became my house elf.
Eleanor was dead. Her entire family was dead.
Bosky came to me, knowing I had no intention of returning to Hogwarts. He had helped me prepare to infiltrate the Death Eaters. Had helped me play the part of pureblood princess.
“This is Hermione Granger. A friend of mine,” I say after we all calm down a bit.
“An honor to meet any of Mistress’s friends,” Bosky bows.
“Oh please, don’t bow,” the girl says.
Bosky looks disturbed but stands up straight anyways.
“We’ve come to look for something in the library.”
Bosky turns to Gitty and Flops and sends them off to prepare a tea. The rest of the elves set to work lighting the sconces and uncovering the furniture.
“Everything will be perfect! Please tell Bosky you are here to stay?” Bosky asks, leading Hermione and I through the halls towards the library. We pass the doors leading to the east wing and I think about my beautiful four poster bed.
“I won’t be able to stay every night, but I promise to be here as frequently as possible.”
He just nods, a pout on his face.
“I can’t believe this is your house,” Hermione says looking at the many smiling portraits of family members I never knew.
When I was at Hogwarts, I had hoped to fill it with people. I always wanted a big family. When the war started killing off entire families, it became easier to be alone. Actually, the last time I was here was a Summer Solstice celebration. It was awful. Dark witches and wizards infiltrating my safe haven.”
“Can I ask you something a little personal?”
“Anything.”
“Why did you do so much to fight the Dark Lord? I mean, you are a pureblood.”
Bosky pushes open the library doors and I turn to look at the young muggle-born witch. She is so much like Lily. And not just because she is muggle-born.
“The Dark Lord didn’t care if someone was pureblood or not. He sought power. Another dark wizard killed my family before I could talk. I didn’t want that to happen to anyone else,” I explain, turning on the lights in the room.
She takes in the walls covered in dark wooden bookshelves, crammed with centuries of collected works.
“Grindelwald,” she says.
“Yes. Both were under the impression that if they killed all those who opposed them, they would ascend to a power never seen before. If I am being honest though, there was more to it. A wizard, Rodolphus Lestrange, killed someone I loved. He killed her entire family.”
“Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice,” she replies.
“Samuel Johnson.”
Her look of shock reminds me of Lily discovering I had read Shakespeare between third and fourth year.
“I grew up in the muggle world. When the war started, I had a moment where I contemplated running from the wizarding world. Living quietly as a muggle. Things changed.”
“And now?”
“Things have changed again. Harry is in danger. All of you are in danger. I won’t leave the people I care about to fend for themselves. Now, let's look for what we came for. Molly won’t be pleased if I don’t have you back in time for supper.”
She wastes no time charging into the stacks.
“Mistress, where have you been?” Bosky asks
“On an extended vacation. Don’t worry, I don’t plan on going back. It had the worst ambiance.”