Harry had only been at 4 Privet Drive for three days, and was already bored out of his mind. He had forgotten how small and bare his room was. Daily walks to the park didn't do much to break up the monotony of the day.
He was so bored he almost volunteered to do some chores for Petunia. But a fragile peace was in place, and it was unwise to break it. Dobby was providing all of his meals, and Harry hadn't been asked to cook theirs. The arrangement was working splendidly so far, except for the boredom and the occasional bout of anxiety.
He'd tried to read his textbooks. He'd attempted to start his summer homework. But worries over Sirius' upcoming interrogation invariably distracted him.
The questioning would take place tomorrow afternoon, in the presence of the Director of the DMLE, Amelia Bones, as well as an Unspeakable. Dumbledore would be there too. He had promised Harry that he would protect Sirius, come what may, but the old man's promises had been empty too many times.
Until it was clear that his godfather would be safe, he couldn't relax.
For the tenth time, he sat down and started a letter to Hermione. He had started similar letters to Ron, Neville, Dean, and Katie, and was considering sending one to Angelina if only to talk about quidditch. They lay unfinished in a pile. Not only was he too distracted, but everyone had only been home for three days. They would probably think him crazy to send letters, especially when there was so little to say.
Still, it was a cheering thought that there were so many people to correspond with. He had more friends than he did a year ago. More people to care about. Including a pair of Slytherins. Just imagining how Tracey would react if she received a letter from him brought a smile to his face. He couldn't do it though. She might get in trouble, and he didn't want to put her in danger.
The thought of danger brought his ruminations back to Sirius. Merlin, he wanted tomorrow to just come already.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry paced his room for roughly the thousandth time in the last hour. The sun was setting, and no news had come. A squeaky floorboard made an annoying noise as he trod on it yet again.
"Boy, stop that racket!" yelled Uncle Vernon from downstairs.
"Sorry," he muttered.
He sat down on his bed and reached for one of the girlie magazines Sirius had gifted him for Christmas. Anything to take his mind off waiting. He had already perused three of them, and mostly found them ludicrous. The articles and ads were silly, and the girls—well, most of them were hot, but it came as a shock that no one shaved their bits in the 70s.
He had always thought of Tracey as having a full bush. He was wrong. She was bald compared to these women. The phrase 'hair pie' finally made sense to him. All the models had huge triangles of thick hair obscuring their nether regions.
Harry shivered. It was enjoyable to play with the pubic hair of his friends, but this was something else. Would Hermione be that hairy if she didn't shave? It might be more attractive on her, he supposed.
There was a peck at his window, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. An unfamiliar owl was outside, carrying a package in its talons. He let it inside and hurriedly removed its delivery. Hedwig hooted with irritation at the intruder.
"It's alright, girl. This might be important news."
He tore it open to find—a mirror? There was a little note attached, which said 'Speak your godfather's name.'
"Er, Sirius Black?"
A moment later Sirius' face appeared in the mirror. His complexion was ruddy, as if he had been drinking, and he was beaming. "Harry!"
"Sirius! What's happening? Where are you? Are you safe? How did it go?"
"Whoa, calm down! I'm fine. It went great!"
"Holy shit, so you're free?"
"Not yet, but old Bonesy is on my side now. She verified my story with truth serum, and she's gonna report everything to Fudge. They've still got Wormtail's body on ice, so she'll push for a trial in August in front of the Wizengamot. I could be a free man before you leave for Hogwarts!"
Harry sat down on the bed in relief. "Oh, thank God, I was so worried."
"So was I, but you really came through for me, kid. Thank you for leaning on the Minister."
"I guess being famous is good for something now and then."
"I'll drink to that!" he said, and turned up a bottle of firewhiskey.
Sirius wiped his mouth and grinned. "I plan to get drunk with Moony tonight and celebrate. That damned Kiss-On-Sight order is gone, and they're not even looking for me anymore. Dumbledore vouched for me turning up, so I'm free on my own recognizance! Right now, my recognizance wants to get blitzed!"
Harry laughed. "I wish I could be there. I'm bored out of my mind here. What are these things anyway?" he said, gesturing at the mirrors.
"I found them a couple days ago while cleaning up this place. Your dad and I used to talk on them in detentions. Aren't they brilliant?"
"They're great. I had no idea you could make something like this."
"We can talk every day now. You'll never be deprived of my wonderful company again."
"I'm looking forward to it. Merlin, I can't believe this worked. Am I going to be joining you soon, wherever you are?"
"Yep, assuming we can get the place clean enough. It's a nightmare, and the house was foul even before it was locked up for a decade. Now it's five floors of filth. I've barely made a dent in it, and Kreacher is mad and useless."
"I've got a house elf friend who'd probably help, if you bribed him with clothes."
"Bribed him with clothes?"
"He's a free elf. He's been working for pay at Hogwarts, but I bet he'd be willing to help you."
Harry called for Dobby, and a moment later the elf appeared in the room. "Dobby, would you be interested in helping to clean my godfather's house? It's very dirty, and he'll pay you with socks or hats or sickles or whatever you want."
Dobby practically bounced with excitement. "Oh, Dobby would love to clean something dirty! Dobby is not having enough work to do!"
"There you go," he said to Sirius with a smile. "Thank you, Dobby. You're the best."
Sirius laughed. "Well, alright then. Tell him to pop to Dumbledore so he can find the place. We need all the help we can get."
He took another swig from his bottle and belched. "I'm not cleaning a damn thing tonight though. We'll have a party when you get here, Harry. I want to hear about the craziness in the graveyard. Dumbledore showed me the memory and I couldn't believe my eyes."
"I'll be happy to. I wouldn't mind seeing that memory myself. Anything would be better than sitting in this room."
"What have you been doing?"
"Going on walks, worrying, going on walks, trying to read, writing letters I don't send, looking at hairy women, and worrying. I've been talking to Hedwig, and I think she's concerned about my sanity."
"Hairy women?"
"From those girlie mags you gave me for Christmas. I just now had the time. They're, er, something else."
"Pretty hot stuff, eh?"
Harry sniffed. "Let's just say I'm glad I didn't grow up in the 70s. Had they not invented razors yet?"
Sirius laughed uproariously. "Oh, Merlin. The Headmaster just came in the room. I think we should have this conversation later. I don't want to give him a stroke. I'll give you a call again tomorrow."
"I can't wait. Have fun, Sirius."
"Don't worry, I will. Might just burn my mother off the wall too."
The mirror went blank before he could ask what that meant.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Another three days had passed, and Harry was still bored out of his mind. His sentence at Privet Drive lasted one more week, though it felt like a month. He was contemplating using Dobby to prank the Dursleys, just for some amusement. A little magic could improve their lives. Perhaps Dobby would enjoy souring their milk. Or shrinking all their clothes by one size. Or hiding all the toilet paper. No, on second thought, he needed to use that too.
He was so bored that he'd taken to practicing wand motions with a stick he'd found in the yard. His training with Hermione and Cedric had saved his life during the graveyard fight. With Voldemort still out there, it felt imperative to continue training. He'd probably have to find an additional dueling partner at Hogwarts though. Hermione, for all her enthusiasm, didn't provide much of a challenge anymore.
Hedwig had recently delivered letters to her and Ron, and was currently winging her way toward Neville and Dean. He wanted to make sure Neville was okay after their strange encounter on the train, and to thank Dean for drawing the amazing picture of Hermione. It had already provided him some comfort. Several times.
The most interesting part of his day was talking to Sirius, who regularly regaled him with stories of his parents, and speculated on how much fun they would have together in France.
His godfather, it turned out, would be accompanying him and Dumbledore to meet with the necromancer. Harry had received an owl from Madame Delacour two days ago, setting the date of departure for July 28th, three days before his sixteenth birthday. She would meet them outside the gates of Hogwarts, and they would take an international portkey to a veela sanctuary, purportedly one of the safest places on the planet.
Sirius had gotten one whiff of the plan and insisted on going too. Not only did he want to know what was the matter with his godson's scar, but he wanted to meet a veela. Or rather, lots of veela. Harry could tell just from the way he talked that he was imagining some sort of sexual utopia filled with insatiable women. That almost certainly wasn't the case, but he didn't want to dash his hopes. The old dog needed a real vacation after twelve years in Azkaban.
The true reason for their visit to the colony made his stomach churn. Sirius might want to party with a veela, but something very real was at stake for Harry. The thought that he was harboring dark magic in his scar was growing increasingly intolerable.
He tossed another of the old magazines to the floor and unrolled the drawing Hermione had given him. He never grew tired of looking at it. It would be nice to get it framed, but there was nowhere to hang it. Others would find it bizarre to see a blank parchment.
The animated Hermione writhed on the paper and he stared at her as she pleasured herself. Her breasts heaved, her legs shuddered, and her fingers rubbed little circles around her clit. Then she started all over again. The animation was on an impressive twenty-second loop. He had counted.
Harry grew hard just watching her, and decided to spend some more quality time with this imaginary version of his friend. That's what the real Hermione wanted, after all, and it wouldn't do to disappoint her.
At Hogwarts he had almost ceased masturbating. The Pride had spoiled him, providing as much sex as he could possibly want. But the summer had brought his usual schedule to a screeching halt. The break had been welcome, even necessary, for about three days. Now his libido called out for satisfaction again. Thank Merlin Hermione had blessed him with her gift.
He put the erotic drawing on the bed and stood over it, then wrestled out his cock. The scene was so realistic that he could imagine himself in it, seated in Dean's position and watching intently as she pleasured herself. He could almost sense the Pride's room around him. Hermione dipped a wet finger between her legs and he began stroking himself firmly.
The memory of her taste and scent fueled his arousal. He could almost feel the perfect grip of her pussy—almost hear her begging him to cum inside her as he plunged into her warm, welcoming depths.
His orgasm approached quickly, and he didn't try to delay it. His breaths came faster as he imagined Hermione stepping out of the picture and wrapping her soft lips around his cock. He closed his eyes and groaned as ecstasy overtook him. His cock pulsed in his hand and spurted copiously, a dozen thick bursts exploding from deep within.
Harry sighed in relief and opened his eyes. Then stared at his bed in horror. Oh shit. He had gotten lost in the moment and forgotten to get some toilet paper or tissue. He hadn't even bothered to aim himself. Three long stripes of cum were now decorating Hermione's animated form. A little pool was forming directly on her breasts. The bedspread around the drawing was a mess.
He reached for his wand, desperately hoping her gift wasn't ruined, but stopped. Magic couldn't be used at Privet Drive. Panic rose in his chest and he tried to push it away. What was he going to do? Water might damage it. Wiping it might leave a smear. Was it spelled to be impervious to dirt or water? His release was already starting to pool and dry. He winced, half-expecting the image of Hermione to raise her head and glare at him.
There was only one solution, and it was going to be embarrassing. He hurriedly stuffed his cock back inside his pants.
"Er, Dobby?"
The elf popped into the room. "Harry Potter, Sir?"
"Hello," he said, unable to stop his cheeks from flushing. "I have something that needs cleaned right away. You see, I, er, accidentally spilled something on it. Do you think you could spell it clean without hurting it?"
"Of course, Dobby can. Where is it?"
He reluctantly pointed to the cum-stained portrait on the bed, hoping Dobby wouldn't ask questions. He snapped his fingers and the mess on both the portrait and bed disappeared.
"Is that all Harry Potter be needing?"
"Er, yes. Thank you, Dobby. Why don't we just keep this between ourselves, okay?"
"Oh, yes, sir. Dobby is knowing all about cleaning up wet wizard messes. Dobby keeps them secret."
He popped away, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Then he remembered that Dobby used to clean up after Draco Malfoy, and shuddered.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The-Boy-Who-Was-Bored yawned and closed his transfiguration textbook. He had finally succumbed to the inevitable and done his homework. There was simply nothing else to do. Plus, he didn't want to be bothered with it later when that time could be spent with Sirius.
He crossed another day off his mental calendar. Two days to go. Then he could finally leave this wretched place. He had been expecting a mirror call from Sirius all evening, but it hadn't come. Hopefully that meant his godfather was just celebrating with Professor Lupin again. Enduring twelve years in Azkaban entitled someone to quite a bit of rest and merriment.
Harry brushed his teeth and returned to his room. He was preparing to turn in for the night when the mirror buzzed.
"Sirius Black?"
"Harry! I was hoping you were still up."
"You caught me just in time. How are things there?"
"Well…" he said, and trailed off. "It's been quite a day. Let's put it that way. Sorry I didn't get in touch earlier, but things have been kinda crazy here."
"What's happening? Did you get a lead on Voldemort and Crouch?"
"Yes and no. I can't really tell you yet, but it's nothing bad. Not for us anyway. It might even be good. But there are about to be unbreakable vows involved, and we're having to re-ward the fifth floor of the house. Your elf buddy is cleaning it right now. He's been a godsend."
"Unbreakable vows? You can't tell me anything?"
"Not yet. Sorry. I do have a question for you though."
"Yeah?"
"What are your thoughts on Draco Malfoy?"
Harry blinked. Of all the questions Sirius could have asked him, that was one of the least expected.
"Er, he's an insufferable, cowardly twat? Why?"
Sirius chuckled. "No reason. Just curious. Oh, I'm supposed to tell you that Dumbledore will be at the Dursleys at 8am sharp on Saturday morning. Make sure all your stuff is packed and ready to go."
"I can have it ready in five minutes. Are you sure I can't come earlier?"
"Dumbledore says no. He insists on you staying a full two weeks. But we'll see each other soon. I'll let you get to bed. Talk to you tomorrow."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Harry waited on his bed and looked at his watch. Any second now. His trunk was packed and Hedwig's cage was resting on top of it. He couldn't wait to get out of here. The Dursleys weren't even awake yet, and he didn't intend to tell them he was leaving. Let them figure it out on their own.
At precisely 8 o'clock, there was a sudden whoosh of fire and Dumbledore appeared out of thin air with Fawkes on his shoulder. Harry jumped at their sudden appearance. He had expected a knock on the door, not someone suddenly showing up in his room.
"Er, hello sir."
"Hello, Harry. I trust you've enjoyed your summer so far?"
"As much as I could, I guess."
"Excellent. Are you ready to leave?"
"I've been ready since the day I got here."
Dumbledore had the decency not to chide him about not getting along with his relatives. "Very well. Before we go, I must ask you to read this."
He handed him a slip of paper.
Harry read it and frowned. "The Order of the Phoenix?"
"I shall explain later. We are going to your godfather's home in London. It's now under a fidelius charm."
"Sounds good to me. I'm ready when you are, sir."
Dumbledore hesitated. "I'm afraid I have one more thing to ask of you before we depart. Once we arrive, I must ask you to be gracious to whatever guests you may encounter there."
"Er, okay. Who will be there?"
The Headmaster's eyes twinkled. "Your godfather insisted that I don't tell you. It's a serious situation, no pun intended, but I believe he feels the need to prank his godson. He said he has twelve years to make up for."
"Oh, Merlin."
"Quite. It's a long story, and we will explain things shortly. Remember, everyone at our new headquarters is on the same side."
There was an ominous tightening in Harry's gut as Dumbledore reached out for his hand. He grasped it and they disappeared from Privet Drive in a whoosh of flame.
They reappeared in an antique drawing room. A slightly creepy one. Despite the morning sunlight spilling through the windows, the room was filled with odd shadows and a pervasive sense of darkness. The furniture seemed to be from the 19th century, and was made out of dark wood and darker velvet.
"Where are we?" he asked uncertainly.
"A grim old place, but it's all I have," Sirius answered. He stepped through an open door with a huge smile on his face. "Welcome home, Harry."
Harry grinned and gave him a hug. Sirius held him at arm's length. "Merlin, you're growing up. You look more like James every time I see you."
"Well, I am going to be 16 in a couple weeks."
"Don't remind me. It makes me feel old."
"You are old."
Dumbledore watched the two with some amusement. "I have several errands to run later. Let us bring him up to speed, Sirius."
"Of course. Have you eaten yet, Harry? Your fantastic elf made a full English breakfast."
"Not yet."
"Let's go grab some food then. We'll talk and then I'll give you a tour of this hellhole."
"Sounds good to me."
They followed him down a long, dark hallway lit by antique sconces. Harry's stomach rumbled at the smell of nearby food.
Their destination was a huge kitchen that likewise managed to be both elegant and creepy. It was dominated by a long table filled with platters of food. Harry took one look at the table's occupants and stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at Sirius incredulously, but his godfather just smirked.
It took him a moment to be sure he wasn't hallucinating. There, at the kitchen table, eating quietly, were Remus Lupin—and Draco and Narcissa Malfoy.
Everyone stopped moving and a long, uncomfortable silence ensued.
"Hello, Harry. Great to see you again," Lupin said with a pleasant smile.
He was too distracted to answer, and unable to stop looking between the two Malfoys. Narcissa regarded him with a cold but neutral expression. Draco didn't attempt to hide his sneer.
"Can someone explain to me what's happening right now?" he asked faintly. "You have to be pranking me. That's someone wearing Polyjuice, right?"
Sirius snickered and it slowly turned into outright laughter.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Explain this to me again. I wasn't conscious the first time," Harry said, pushing his empty plate away from him.
Sirius and Dumbledore sat across from him. The previous occupants of the table had departed elsewhere when he refused to believe the situation was real.
"She's my cousin. She's a Black. She asked me for sanctuary, and I gave it."
"Yes, but—"
"They are not Death Eaters, Harry," Dumbledore said firmly. "Whatever your feelings toward Draco Malfoy, he is still just a student. Narcissa is married to a Death Eater, but she carries no Dark Mark herself."
"But what are they doing here?"
"This is the safest place for them, my boy. They are in very real danger, and both have taken unbreakable vows never to serve Voldemort again or to fight against us. They cannot harm you now, even if they wanted to."
"I have to be dreaming this."
He had just recently watched Draco get punched in the nose by Neville, and now the obnoxious boy and his mother were sitting upstairs in his godfather's house. It just didn't make sense.
Sirius laughed at his whining. "I told you it got crazy around here a few days ago. Narcissa showed up out of nowhere with Draco in tow, and she let us confirm her story with veritaserum. She's telling the truth."
"Lady Malfoy gave us very valuable information, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps it is best if you watch the memories she provided. It will help you understand the direness of their situation, and why we are willing to help them."
"Okay. But one day I want to watch a memory that doesn't leave me in shock."
Sirius patted him on the back as the Headmaster rose to retrieve his pensieve. "You got it. How about your parents' wedding?"
Harry blinked. It hadn't even occurred to him that Sirius had years' worth of memories of his parents. "I'd like that."
Dumbledore returned and placed the pensieve on the table. It already contained a swirling memory.
"I have watched this dozens of times, so I will leave you to it. It is not what you will see in this memory that is important. It is what you will hear, so pay close attention. Do not speak of what you learn to anyone save Miss Granger. I am aware of how much you depend on her."
"Yes, sir."
He sat down to wait as Harry and Sirius entered the memory.
The pair immediately found themselves deposited in an elegant but feminine bedroom. Narcissa Malfoy was sitting on the edge of her bed in silence, looking as if she had just received the fright of her life. Her hands were trembling, and her usual composure was absent. She was wearing a thin dressing gown that didn't adequately cover the silky green negligee beneath it.
Harry tried not to ogle her, but there was nothing else in the room to look at.
"Pretty hot, isn't she?" Sirius whispered, as if she might overhear.
"Sirius! She's your cousin."
"So? She's your cousin too, distantly. Doesn't make her any less hot."
Harry winced at the idea of Draco Malfoy's mother being hot, but couldn't deny that it was true. There was a small bounty of creamy skin on display, and hints of very enticing curves beneath her gown. Just as he began to wonder why they were watching this seemingly private moment, Narcissa took a deep breath and pointed a trembling wand at an ornate jewelry box on her dresser.
Immediately the room filled with voices.
"He should die for his disloyalty!" a voice hissed.
"You are right, of course, my Lord, but Lucius can still be of value to you," another voice said respectfully. "His gold and connections remain useful."
"Perhaps. We shall have to make other arrangements now, but Lucius shall pay dearly. Leave him in his dungeon overnight, and wake him every two hours with the cruciatus. Do not go easy on him, Bartemius, or I shall be displeased."
"It shall be done, my Lord. And what of young Draco?"
"Do not reveal my presence to him. I do not wish to been seen in this form. Ensure that Narcissa does not talk, with your wand if you must. We need her to milk Nagini's venom, but she mustn't speak of my presence to her child."
The room suddenly swirled, and Harry expected to be ejected from the pensieve. Instead, a new memory began. It, too, took place in Narcissa's bedroom. She remained sitting on her bed, but this time the room was brighter and she was dressed in sophisticated silver robes. She was again eavesdropping on a conversation.
"And you are certain it's not at her estate?" Voldemort asked with a threatening hiss.
"I am certain, my Lord. The wards have degraded almost entirely, and there was little of value there. I would have discovered a dark artifact, even if it had been concealed with the most powerful charms."
"Very well. It is too dangerous for you to return to Hogwarts now, even in disguise. We shall have to use one of my other treasures. I can't accompany you until my wounds heal. I will instruct you how to bypass the wards, and Nagini will help you."
"As you wish, my Lord. What am I to retrieve?"
"An heirloom of my forebears. A ring. It is very precious to me. You are not to put it on your finger under any circumstances, on pain of death. Once it is in my possession, it shall not leave me until it is ready to be of use."
"And you are certain it cannot be used sooner, my Lord? I wish only for your immediate return to glory."
The Dark Lord's voice grew almost tender. "You shall be rewarded for your loyalty to me, Bartemius. But no, we must wait until the winter solstice, and devise a different ritual. Potter and Wormtail," he spat in disgust, "ruined the requirements for this one. But it is no matter. When I rise, I shall crush Dumbledore and that boy and everything they hold dear."
"Should I find a way to keep watch on Potter? He will likely be in Hogwarts before the solstice."
"I shall think on it. But perhaps there is a better sacrifice to be made. Dear Lucius should be made aware of the cost of losing something so valuable to me. I believe it fitting that the cost should be his only son."
"The idea has merit, my Lord," Barty responded with amusement.
Voldemort chuckled, though it sounded more like a baby trying to hiss. "It does, doesn't it? Make certain that Draco is kept healthy and safe until the solstice. If we can't get Potter, he may prove quite useful. Say nothing to Lucius. Let him think he can regain my favor with his groveling."
The memory stopped, and this time Harry and Sirius were ejected from the pensieve. He found himself staring into the Headmaster's twinkling eyes.
"Do you understand the importance of those memories, Harry?"
"Er, I think so. I caught the bit about him not being able to return until December. That's good news, isn't it?"
"Quite so. I hope you also discerned the fact that young Mr. Malfoy's life is in grave danger. His mother immediately gathered her most valuable possessions and fled with him."
"And Voldemort may still try to get at me too. I'm just shocked that Narcissa Malfoy is switching sides."
"Can you blame her, dear boy? Her only son is being threatened by a Dark Lord. She was never a marked Death Eater, though she sympathized with their ideals. Perhaps she still does. But she is not willing to sacrifice her son in Voldemort's service."
"Draco is on board with this plan?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately, she had to stun him to remove him from Malfoy Manor. His first few days here were rather unpleasant. He tried to leave twice, but she showed him her memories of Voldemort's current form, and of his plans, and he was eventually persuaded that she was right. After much shouting."
"And what about his father?"
Sirius laughed. "She never loved Lucius. She loved his money and influence. It was an arranged marriage, and that eavesdropping charm has been in his study for years. She used it to spy on him and his various mistresses, so she could blackmail them."
"Merlin. I wondered how she had the guts to spy on Voldemort."
"She did not make the decision lightly," said Dumbledore. "But when Voldemort and Barty Crouch showed up at her home and tortured Lucius for losing his precious diary, she was terrified. I believe she was rather disgusted by his present form as well. With Pettigrew gone, she was forced to mix Nagini's venom with her milk to feed Voldemort."
"Her milk?"
"Lactating charm," Sirius said.
"Ugh," Harry said with a shiver. His mind provided an image of baby Voldemort being fed a nasty concoction with a bottle. No wonder she had fled.
Dumbledore rose from the table. "There will be time to discuss these matters later. But the important thing is that Voldemort has made a crucial mistake: he has yet again underestimated the power of a mother's love. We now have an opportunity we must take advantage of."
"How so?" Harry asked.
"A conversation for another day, my boy," he replied with a smile. "But I will be very busy for the foreseeable future. Sirius can explain the Order of the Phoenix to you. I must return to Hogwarts for now."