Potter Luck

Sirius gently opened the door a moment after Harry responded. Sirius entered the sitting room, smiling to himself as he eyed the room. He was exceptionally proud of these rooms. He knew Harry would love them, because they were things that he himself would love. Sirius and Harry had always been kindred spirits.

The room wasn’t the same as Sirius had last seen it. First he spotted a towel draped over the back of a chair, forgotten. When his eyes landed on the one who had abandoned said towel, Sirius came to a dead stop.

Harry was leaning gracefully against a bookcase, eyes skimming an aged, heavy volume, with neither a shirt nor a care in the world. Unable to stop himself, Sirius took in all that the sight offered, and he was once again struck by how different this boy— no, man— was. How old is he truly now? Where did those muscles come from?

As Sirius’s eyes roved over Harry’s chest, he saw the evidence of Bella’s over excitement. It was a massive scar. The malice behind such a curse would be impressive if it was on anyone else’s body. Sirius noticed other marks and scars along Harry’s torso and arms, none quite so brutal as the one across his chest, except for the one on his forearm perhaps. Harry struck quite the impressive figure, Sirius thought. Battle scars and more muscle than he had any right to have were a combination that anyone, Sirius included, could appreciate.

Finally, Sirius looked back to Harry’s face, and to his horror found green eyes locking with his blue. Harry smirked, as if there was a joke that only he knew. Harry raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t remark on Sirius’s careful study. The latter cleared his throat, suddenly feeling off-footed.

“Amelia floo’ed. They have the press release ready to publish. She asked for a quote from you, I didn’t want to bother you at the time, so I gave a generic one about you being glad to be home and ready to return to Hogwarts. If you’d prefer to change it, just let me know and we can do so easily.” Sirius took a seat on the arm of the sofa as he spoke. He was feeling decidedly distracted at that moment.

“I’m sure that whatever Lord Black said will more than suffice,” Harry gave him a crooked grin before replacing the book back on the shelf. Sirius snorted in response. “If I recall, you have several stories on that particular subject to share with me,” Harry remarked.

“I do, c’mon let's swap stories over dinner,” Sirius pushed off the couch and headed for the door, “Er, are you going to…” He trailed off when Harry raised an amused eyebrow. Wordlessly, Harry lifted a hand towards his bedroom, and a shirt launched itself into the outstretched hand. Sirius did not watch as Harry pulled it on and he was not fascinated by the way his scars stretched with the chorded muscles.

“I never realized Sirius Black was such a prude,” Harry said casually, but still amused.

“I am hardly a prude!” He exclaimed, offended. Sirius was known for being quite the opposite, in fact. At least, prior to Azkaban.”What do you know about being a prude anyways? Fifteen isn’t exactly the Age of Enlightenment,” Sirius retorted. Harry truly laughed this time, the sound deep and musical as it echoed through the stairway.

“Sirius, you can’t possibly think I’m still fifteen,” Well, no, no he did not.

“Well no. No, I don’t,” Sirius frowned as he considered what all he had seen of Harry. “How long were these two months for you?” Sirius was relieved to be having this conversation because he had been wondering, but was also afraid of hearing the true extent of the horrors Harry underwent.

This time Harry frowned, “I can’t be sure. I know I reached my Majority, but beyond that I can’t be certain.” Sirius sucked in a sharp breath. Over two years. Harry spent over two years in captivity. How was that possible? How had he not gone mad?

“How are you still sane?” Sirius asked, unable to help himself. Harry smiled, softly this time.

“I wasn’t for a long time. I wouldn’t be now in fact, except for a very good friend.” Harry gave Sirius another crooked grin. There was a tightening in Sirius’s chest at that statement.

“I’m doubly grateful for your friend, in that case. If you want to talk about any of it, the madness or anything, I’m always here. I have my fair share of experience with it, after all,” Sirius joked lightly, but the offer was sincere.

“Thanks, Sirius. I suppose even claimed Blacks aren’t exempt from the Black Madness after all,” Harry laughed and dodged the hand that Sirius sent his way.

“Hey watch it, I won’t take it easy on you even if you just got back,” he warned. The pair entered a small dining room. The table was laden down with steaming dishes. “My family has always kept a small army of house elves. Kreacher, the one who used to take care of Grimmauld was in no state to continue his work here so I sent him to Hogwart. Being with other elves will help him, I think,” Sirius explained. Harry nodded along.

“This looks great, what are your elves' names?” Harry asked as he loaded his plate.

“Pippy and Lolly,” two small pops followed Sirius’s voice. Two elves crouched into low bows before Sirius and Harry.

“Pippy is being very happy that Master’s Harry is home safe and sound,” Pippy said, huge round eyes shining with tears.

“Master Sirius is being so worried about his Harry,” Lolly nodded enthusiastically. “We is being happy to serve such a loving and kind Master. We is being happy to serve Master’s Harry,”

Harry smiled at the two elves. His love of Dobby gave him a soft spot for house elves. Pippy and Lolly wore what looked like black shifts with the Black family crest embroidered elegantly in the center of their chest. The shifts were clean and perfectly pressed, they clearly took great pride in their appearance and their representation of the House of Black.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Pippy and Lolly. Thank you for preparing this dinner for us. It looks excellent,” Harry spoke with kindness that made Sirius smile in return. There was a softening in Harry’s features as he looked at the two elves. It was as unguarded of an expression as Sirius had seen on him yet. The two elves bowed again, delighted.

“Master’s Harry is being too kind, too kind indeed,” Pippy squeaked, her round nose sniffling as she spoke. Lolly nodded along.

“Master’s Harry is just like Master Sirius. Yous is being too kind, we elvesies be liking to take care of Master and Master’s Harry,” Lolly’s voice was just as squeaky as Pippy’s.

“There is no such thing as too kind. You work hard and should be appreciated for the work you do,” Harry explained gently.

“Master’s Harry is needing to be eating, Master’s Harry is been missing for a long long time. We is leaving now,” Lolly supplied, wanting to excuse the elves from disagreeing with Harry. With that, they disappeared with two small pops. Harry chuckled as he started loading his plate down with food.

“So I’m Master’s Harry, am I?” Harry asked, amusement thick in his warm voice. Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Since you’re my heir, they are bound to obey your orders just as they are mine. I tried to explain who you are to them, but I think ‘my heir’ and your name, Harry, confused them. They’ve been calling you Master Sirius’s Harry ever since,” Sirius did his best to sound exasperated, but he sounded entirely too fond for it to get across. Harry laughed harder.

“I suppose that’s better than what Dobby calls Ron,” Harry chuckled. “He calls Ron ‘Harry Potter’s Weazy’.” Sirius barked out a laugh, imagining the youngest Weasley boy’s reaction to that.

The pair ate in a comfortable silence after that, occasionally remarking on the food or other inconsequential topics. Sirius had to admit that Pippy and Lolly had gone above and beyond in preparing their meal. The main course was roasted chicken with some sort of buttery herby rub on the outside, decadent potatoes with rich gravy, fresh vegetables, and warm bread. For dessert, they had made a huge treacle tart, Harry’s favorite if Sirius remembered correctly. Judging by the three servings he ate, Sirius was remembering correctly. When Sirius was satisfied that Harry had eaten his fill, he began talking.

“Now then, I suppose you’re interested in the thrilling tale of gaining my freedom?” Sirius waved his hand and the table cleared itself. He pushed back from the table and led Harry to one of the many sitting rooms. There was already a fire dancing, casting warm shadows throughout the room. The two men sat in the arm chairs before the fire and Sirius summoned a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses. He poured a couple fingers worth into each glass and handed one to Harry.

“I was there that night. The night you disappeared. I was obviously in my Grim form, but I was watching the task. The moment you left the maze I felt something terrible shift within myself. I knew something had happened. I tried to alert Dumbledore, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” Sirius tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “When the task ended and Cedric Diggory told us what happened, he was frantic, by the way, Dumbledore was forced to admit that something happened. I kept trying to get him to do something, anything, but he insisted we needed to wait and see what would happen.” Sirius paused to take a breath, feeling the anger of that day like a fresh brand.

“When Snape’s mark burned we knew what had happened. Dumbledore was entirely too pleased to know that Voldemort had once again risen. He started contacting members of The Order of the Phoenix, trying to convince Fudge that Voldemort had returned, and every other god forsaken thing other than trying to find you. Barty Crouch Jr. was eventually found to be impersonating Mad-Eye. His confession under Veritaserum convinced the rest of the world. While all of that happened, all I could do was sit there and watch. I couldn’t help, couldn’t make suggestions, couldn’t demand that someone get their head out of their arse and try to locate you.

“The Prophet was painting you like a martyr, the ministry lamenting what a tragedy it was while trying to cover their asses in the backlash from the tremendous failure of the Triwizard Tournament. Your international friends, it seems, come with quite a few connections and none of them are too happy with the British Ministry at the moment. The Delacours and Krums did more than our own ministry to attempt to locate you,” Harry looked surprised at that.

“Meanwhile,” Sirius’s eyes darkened, “Dumbledore sat on his hands, gathering his forces. Eventually the aurors and the order started tailing known Death Eaters,” Sirius trailed off, momentarily lost in thought.

“So your freedom?” Harry prompted gently. Sirius shook himself free from his trance.

“Right, sorry, got caught up in my memories,” Sirius cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I knew pretty quickly that I had to clear my name. I went to Gringotts the morning after the third task to claim my Lordship and officially make you my heir and claim you by the house. Goblins operate outside of Wixen domain so I didn’t have to worry about them turning me over. In fact, they were thrilled to see me as it meant the Black vaults would be opened once more. There are very few things that Goblins hate more than stagnant money.

“It would benefit their own self interest to help clear my name as well, since that would open up new avenues of income and investment. So with their help, I uncovered your parents’ wills. They had been sealed the day after their deaths. The only one capable of doing such a thing would have been you or your magical guardian. Clearly it was the latter, which from the moment I was sent to Azkaban, was Albus Dumbledore. By claiming you as my heir in magic and in law, I became a magical guardian of sorts, being the head of house. I unsealed their wills, and there it was plain as day. They listed Wormtail as their secret keeper. Dumbledore knew the entire time,” Sirius shook his head, disgusted. Harry wore an outraged expression, but remained quiet, listening intently.

“It was relatively simple from there on out. The goblins sent an official copy to Amelia Bones, I had a solicitor contact her as well to ask her to look into the miscarriage of justice that was my case. The lack of trial and the scandal of the Chief Warlock knowing about my innocence did not reflect back kindly on the ministry. Amelia remains one of the fairest and uncorrupt officials though. She did her sleuthing and gathered enough information and evidence to support my innocence and rescind the kiss on sight order to the dementors. I was finally given a trial a month after the whole process started.

“Amelia presented the evidence, including your parents’ wills and Albus’s involvement in sealing them, then I answered questions after being administered Veritaserum. It was an open and shut case, I was a free man, and the ministry was undergoing yet another scandal. Dumbledore especially came out looking bad. He lost a lot of support.”

“As he should,” Harry muttered bitterly. Sirius wondered if the bitterness was entirely on Sirius’s behalf. He hadn't been too chuffed to see Albus that evening.

“Agreed. Given the role he played in the whole thing, I could have pressed charges against him. They wouldn’t have resulted in jail time, just hefty fines. The Black vaults are the richest in the country so there wasn’t much that would offer aside from further ruining Albus’s image. Instead,” Sirius smiled gleefully now, “I told him we’d let it go and move on if I was given the Defense position at Hogwarts after Gringotts curse breakers removed the curse on the position and any other potentially cursed objects at Hogwarts,” Sirius spoke with pride. Harry smiled back, pride echoing on his face.

“You don’t look overly surprised,” Sirius accused the younger man who shrugged.

“My friend mentioned that they had heard a rumor about the new Defense professor. I’m not surprised, but I am pleased that it’s true. More than that, I’m proud. A lot has changed over the last couple years. I could not be happier for you, Sirius, truly.” The genuine warmth and affection in Harry’s voice warmed something deep in Sirus’s chest.

“Thank you, Harry,” Sirius said thickly. “You really aren’t the same boy I knew just a few months ago, are you?” he asked softly.

Harry smiled at him crookedly. “I certainly hope not,” His green eyes shone in the firelight. “I haven’t been that boy in a long time, Sirius,” His name whispered on Harry’s lips sent a shiver down his spine.

“I look forward to getting to know the man you’ve become,” Sirius replied softly, studying the man across from him. From electric green eyes to the web of fine lighting scars across the right side of his face, Sirius couldn’t look away.

When Harry spoke next, Sirius jumped, lost in his study once again.

“So am I seeing a private healer or going to St. Mungo's tomorrow?” Harry inquired curiously.

“Private healer. Less visibility and better confidentiality. He does work for St. Mungo's technically, but not when he’s here,” Harry raised his eyebrows in silent question. “Ted Tonks will be here at 7 in the morning. He’s married to Andromeda Tonks nee Black, my cousin,” Sirius explained. Harry’s eyebrows raised higher.

“Bellatrix and Narcissa’s sister?” He sounded surprised. It was Sirius’s turn to raise his eyebrows.

“You’re surprisingly well-versed in the Black family tree,” he remarked

“Sweet Bella is chatty when she works,” Harry’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Sirius remarked, watching Harry for signs of discomfort or upset. “I can assure you that Andy is nothing like her sisters. Like me, she was kicked out of the family. I reinstated her and her family after my trial. Her daughter, Nymphadora, is an auror. Being officially back in the family makes Ted the perfect family healer. He’s well respected in the field and is well-versed in several types of healing.”

“I’m sure he’s great,” Harry responded kindly. “After that, I need to visit Gringotts, and I supposed Diagon Alley as well,” he added as an afterthought.

“Any particular reason you need to visit Gringotts?” Sirius asked curiously.

“Actually yes, I find myself in need of a magical inheritance test,” Sirius’s eyes shot up at that.

“You mean you didn’t get one done when you first visited the bank when you were eleven?” It was generally protocol for young wixen to get an inheritance test when they came of age for school, especially in a case like Harry’s where he didn’t have parents to help explain changes his magic would go through, especially when he turned… “Wait. You’ve reached your Majority. What– how–?”

“It was awful.” Harry replied simply. “While I was stuck in that fucking room, I obviously had a lot of time to reflect on my life, and I realized how little knowledge I actually had of the wixen world. I knew nothing about my place in the Wizengamont, or how our governing body even works. Not to mention the rich traditions that come with being a wizard. I didn’t know that certain abilities ran in certain family lines, or that being a Potter meant anything beyond having parents that were murdered by Voldemort,” Harry paused here, his frustration was almost tangible. The air around him flickered with his magic. He released a deep breath and it settled. Sirius watched his aura flare up and down with each breath. It was beautiful and terrifying.

“It was on my sixteenth birthday when I truly found out how little I knew,” Harry began. He took a sip of his whiskey to steady himself. “I didn’t know it was my birthday when I woke up that morning feeling like every nerve was on fire. I thought Bellatrix had come back. After what felt like hours, the pain dissipated enough that I could focus on my surroundings. My friend was there, worried, casting every diagnostic spell they could think of over top of me. Each one came back clear. My friend did all he could to keep me comfortable, but it wasn’t until this appeared that they realized what was happening. See, time didn’t always happen linearly within that room. Minutes weren’t always minutes and days were rarely days. Even if it could have been tracked, my friend was forced to come in and out of the time spell so they could not track it,” As he spoke, Harry pulled the edge of his shirt up to reveal his chest. It was blank except for the scar stretching across its length.

Harry waved his hand over his chest, directly over his heart. A black tattoo-like mark appeared. Sirius leaned in closer to study the image. Two crossed scythes. Sirius’s mind whirled. He would consider himself to be well versed in family magics and magical inheritances, but he had never seen this symbol. He could make a good guess though.

“You’re a necromancer,” Sirius whispered, eyes wide. Harry didn’t bother putting the glamor back in place before letting his shirt fall back to its previous position and leaning back in his chair. He finished his drink in one big drink, not even wincing as it went down. Sirius refilled it wordlessly.

“I am,” he replied simply. “It turns out, necromancy is an interesting magical inheritance in that it can only be inherited under a specific set of circumstances and only when certain conditions are met,” Sirius watched with interest as Harry waved his wands, a trail of black shadow followed in its wake.

“First of all, you have to be born with the potential to inherit the ability. That is rare in and of itself. Only one family line was ever recorded to possess the trait, and it could only be passed through male descendants. Not only did the child have to be a boy, but also the firstborn child. If the male child was not first born, they could carry the gene and pass it to their offspring, but they could never inherit. There are some other factors that go into it as well as a good heap of luck, but that’s the basic requirement to even have a possibility of inheriting the ability.

“From there, it’s rather simple. If born with the possibility of inheritance, one would inherit only after escaping death three times. On the birthday following their third escape, they inherit, hence my sixteenth birthday. I first escaped death as a baby, as we are all familiar with. The second time was when I was twelve. Basilisk venom has only one antidote, and I was one foot in the grave when Fawkes saved me. My final time was the event I described to you and Madam Bones earlier today. I should have been dead. I was dead. Something kept me rooted to the mortal plain though, and I was able to survive. The conditions were met though,” Harry shrugged as if he wasn’t describing the most remarkable and unique case of magical inheritance that Sirius had ever heard of.

“How did you learn all of this?” He asked incredulously. Magical inheritances are typically closely guarded family secrets, it’s unlikely that Harry would have been able to learn about this outside of the Potter vaults.

“My friend, of course.” He smiled wryly. “They had a remarkable supply of banned and illicit books at their disposal. Eventually we were able to piece together enough information to figure it out. I may be the first necromancer in centuries, but there is one family that was once known for producing them,” Harry looked at Sirius with a challenge in his eyes.

“The Peverells!” Sirius exclaimed. Harry nodded, glad Sirius was able to connect the pieces. “The Potters descended from the Peverells. Wait, so your father–” Sirius trailed off, thinking back to his friend.

“My father would have inherited at his next birthday,” Harry stated, Sirius went slack-jawed at Harry’s easy tone. “He faced Voldemort three times and barely escaped with his life three times. I can’t be one hundred percent sure since I don’t know the exact circumstances, or if he even had inherited the ability, but it seems like if he did, he would have become a necromancer on his next birthday,” Harry explained calmly. Sirius was truly gobsmacked. The Potters, a true Light family, hiding the secret magic of necromancy for generations.

“Surprising, I know,” Harry remarked.

“You have no idea,” Sirius muttered, running a hand through his hair. Harry laughed at Sirius's reaction. “Sorry please continue,”

“So I inherited my necromancy abilities on my sixteenth birthday. To my knowledge– meaning my friend’s– no other magical inheritance can happen before you reach Majority. The next several months were hard. My core wasn’t fully developed, but I had this huge well of power to pull from and no wand to channel it. It was like experiencing something like magical growing pains. Necromancy is an ability unto itself, but with it came a huge power overall boost. That’s when I started really trying to train my wandless magic. I got quite good at it, too. As often as they could, my friend would smuggle books to me. It was hard but I managed to keep them secret. That was also around the time we started to truly plan my escape,” Harry sighed deeply.

“If Voldemort would have realized he had a necromancy at his mercy, the lengths he would have gone to to get me under his control would have been great,” Harry explained. Sirius shuddered at the thought.

“So anyways, eventually I reached my Majority. The signs were there in the lead up to my even teeth birthday. I had a very high fever, I was weak, and my magic was erratic. I had no idea what to expect when the moment finally came, and even if I had there was no way it would have truly prepared me for the pain.” It was Harry’s turn to shudder.

“It was hell. I felt like my very soul was splitting in half and reforming on a loop. I was completely isolated from my senses, cut off from the world around me. Two full days passed before I was able to focus on my surroundings,” Harry explained.

“With a reaction like that, your inheritance must have been enormous,” Sirius mused, a tone of wonder in his voice. Harry smirked into the flames.

“It was. My core expanded and expanded and expanded. I could feel it stretching and growing and devouring the entire time. It was… indescribable. It took a lot of getting used to. That wasn’t too long ago now, I couldn’t guess as to how long exactly, but the pain is still fresh enough to recall vividly.”

“And no one ever warned you about your magical inheritance or suggested that you might go through something like that?” It was typically wizarding one-oh-one.

“Nope,” Harry’s lips popping over the P. “I had never even heard the term before. So you see, you’re not the only one disenchanted by a certain champion of Light.” Harry’s smile was dangerous. Sirius hummed in agreement. So it would seem.

“Well in that case, I think a trip to Gringott’s is certainly necessary. We’ll head there directly after you meet with Ted. I have your book list too, so we can get your school supplies while we’re there. Unfortunately I’m sure it will be busy with last minute shoppers given the approach of term.” Sirius took one last swig from his glass, and Harry did the same.

They fell into an easy conversation about Harry’s book list that carried them to the upper level. Sirius found his conversation to be engaging in ways that ones with Harry had never been before. Maybe it was simply his older age, or the increase in confidence and easy way he carried himself. Either way, Sirius found that he enjoyed talking with Harry as an equal.

He bade the younger man goodnight, and slipped into his own room, thoughts whirling with all that had transpired that day.