A Promise Kept - Chapter 36 - Another Promise

Another Promise

There was something undeniably familiar about the village he found himself, something that called to him as though he was home. It wasn’t merely the memories that plagued him that elicited such within Harry, but the very magic of the place.

Even so, there was still that sense of betrayal he associated with Godric’s Hollow, as though what happened that Halloween night had irrevocably changed things, had killed something but awoken something else that had lied dormant.

Harry could not quite explain it, but as he stood before the fresh grave of Albus Dumbledore, he did his utmost to push his warring feelings aside.

Fawkes was perched atop the monument of his companion, and he sang quietly, a mournful tune that Harry could feel in his very soul.

“I know,” he comforted, stroking the phoenix’s plumage, the same way Dumbledore had when he was pondering a question Harry had asked him. “He’s asked me to watch over you. Whatever you need, Fawkes.”

The magical bird met his gaze and nodded, vanishing in an impressive column of fire, leaving a shrunken trunk in his wake.

With a sad smile, Harry pocketed and released a deep breath, his eyes wandering over the others the headmaster had been buried with.

“Brian and Kendra Dumbledore.”

Judging by the dates, they had to have been Albus’s parents, an not only the Dumbledore he had come to know these past months, but the girl buried nearby.

“Ariana,” Harry murmured curiously as he approached.

She had died young, but had been born only five years after Albus, which meant she was his sister. The man had never mentioned her, not even in passing.

Harry suspected her death was a painful memory for him. It wasn’t as though she’d been a babe but had not quite reached womanhood.

Fourteen.

She had been the same age as Harry, and he found himself wondering what had happened to her. Perhaps she had been unwell, or worse, something else had befallen her.

Not that he would learn the truth of the matter.

He’d always known Albus was a private person. For all of the fame and accolades he had accumulated throughout his life, not so much was known about him.

Harry wished he could maintain that same anonymity.

Maybe when he was older he might find the same balance, but for now, and in the years to come, everything he did would undoubtedly be scrutinised.

With that in mind, he moved along, unable to leave without first paying a visit to where his father was buried.

It did not take him long to locate the section that the many generations of Potters before him had been laid to rest. The graves belonging to Charlus and Dorea Potter were only a little more worn than that of his father, but there were others among them dating back centuries, worn by the time gone by.

Harry did not know so much about his family history, but what became clear was that the Potters had been a part of magical Britain dating back further than was legible on some of the gravestones here.

He became acutely aware that he was the very last of them, save for his mother, and if Voldemort had his way, there would be no others.

For the most part, he’d been kept away from this part of his life. Neither Sirius nor his mother could tell him much other than their own experiences with his grandparents, so, the Potters had been a mystery to him.

Perhaps that would change when he came of age and he had access to the family vaults, but what could he truly learn from a pile of gold and maybe a few keepsakes his ancestors had gathered?

Maybe there was more to it, but Harry would not get his hopes up.

When he could no longer decipher anything else from the many graves, he returned to the freshest of them, and rested his hand on top of it, next to a wilted Lily his mother had left during her last visit.

He fought the urge to replace it with another.

Harry did not need anyone knowing that he’d been here. It would only raise questions he was not ready to answer, not until he’d seen what it was that Albus had left him.

Still, being here, he felt the wait of what lay ahead weighing heavily upon him.

Defeating Voldemort wasn’t just an opportunity to avenge his father, it was necessary to see his family continue long after him. For the last few generations, only one Potter child had been born to the head of the family, and there was something in Harry that wished to end that trend, that needed to see his family flourish once more.

To that end, he needed to win the impending war, had to find a way to be rid of Voldemort once and for all.

What he had gotten out of coming here besides what Dumbledore had intended, was a sense of perspective, and more than that, the understanding that his father knew he would die when he’d confronted Voldemort.

Just like his mother, James Potter had to know of the prophecy, and yet, he had not hesitated to give his life so that Harry and Lily might just live.

“I’ll get him,” Harry vowed. “Whatever it takes, I’ll get him.”

Taking in his surroundings a final time, he used his portkey to return home, where he could think of all that was to come, and just how it was he would endure it to the very end.

Arriving near the pond he swam in each morning, he made his way towards the house, pausing as he entered and quickly drew his wand as he came upon an unfamiliar man sitting at the kitchen table.

“Who the bloody hell are you?”

The man’s eyes widened fearfully, and he held up his hands.

“Horace Slughorn,” he sputtered. “You must be Harry. Yes, you look much like your father.”

Harry frowned.

He’d heard of Slughorn over the years whenever his mother had been teaching anything pertaining to potions.

“You taught my mother at Hogwarts.”

“I did, and it was one of my greatest failures not to see her obtain a mastery.”

Harry nodded as he slid his wand up his sleeve.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, that is quite the tale,” Slughorn chuckled nervously. “Your mother sought me out, and well, our meeting did not go as she planned. She is well. She left just a few moments ago.”

“What happened?”

“I am still trying to wrap my head around it,” Slughorn chuckled humourlessly. “One moment, I was enjoying a bath, and the next, running for my life. Your mother brought me here to keep me safe.”

“From whom?”

Slughorn noticeably paled and he shook his head, resembling a hippo that was being bothered by a swarm of flies.

“I do not know.”

He was lying, but Harry neither had the energy nor inclination to push him. His mother thought highly of Horace Slughorn, and for now, it wasn’t his place to do so.

Evidently, the man had endured quite the ordeal, much like Harry had himself.

“I apologise if I am not on form. It has been a most unexpectedly trying day.”

“Believe me, I get it,” Harry snorted. “Any idea where my mother went?”

“No, she said she had somewhere she needed to be but would be back soon enough,” Slughorn replied apologetically.

Harry nodded as he stood.

“Well, I will leave you to whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Thanking my lucky stars,” Slughorn murmured, losing himself in his thoughts once more.

Harry left him to it, choosing to make his way to his bedroom.

Despite how trying the day had been, there was much for him to ponder, and even more he knew he needed to do. The war may not have officially resumed but given what had happened to the man now sitting at the kitchen table, it was well and truly in motion.

Voldemort was wasting no time, and Harry couldn’t either.

(Break)

He hated it here, no less so for seeing the kitchen filled with many familiar faces, though it had never been for the best of reasons they’d gathered. They were all a little older now, some much more noticeably, but they had answered the call once more, just as they had during Voldemort’s first rise.

“We’re just waiting for Alastor and…”

Sirius broke off as the kitchen door entered, and the grizzled man entered with two others in tow, one he knew very well.

“Your mother will bloody well kill you,” he sighed.

Nymphadora grinned in response.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Sirius winced at the thought.

He would not be the one to tell Andromeda that her daughter had decided to join a group dedicated to combating the Dark Lord outside the parameters of the law.

The girl was a woman now, a trained auror, and could make and deal with her own decisions.

Besides, what Andromeda did not know wouldn’t hurt her.

“You remember Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Moody introduced the other man.

“I do, but the last time I saw you, you…”

“Had more hair?” Kingsley interjected.

“Lots of it.”

The man chuckled amusedly.

“The joy of being an auror. It’s not always so easy out there, and if what Alastor is saying is true, it will only get worse.”

Sirius nodded grimly, his attention shifting towards the door as a tired Lily entered, shooting him a pointed look, that went unnoticed by the others, who were surprised to see her.

“Lily!” Molly greeted her. “You are looking well. How is Harry?”

“A typical, difficult teenager,” she sighed. “And yours? You had six the last I heard.”

“Seven,” Molly corrected with a beaming smile. “Ginny came not long after, well, you know.”

“You finally got your girl.”

“After six boys, she was a blessing. Not that each of the boys weren’t, it’s just quite the change.”

Lily nodded as she took her seat, and Sirius cleared his throat to garner the attention of the room.

“We all know why we are here,” he said darkly.

“So, it is true?” Elphias Doge asked. “He’s back? The way the Ministry are trying to spin it is that Crouch finally lost his mind.”

“I wish it was that simple. No, and as always, what I am going to share with you now goes no further than those within this room. Albus had been waiting for the Dark Lord and even encountered him a few years ago at Hogwarts. How he survived that night, I cannot say, and not even Albus was certain, but he is still out there and has made his first move.”

“What happened?” Sturgis Podmore asked.

“From what Albus told me, Voldemort somehow managed to share Quirinus Quirrell’s body to sustain himself. He spent most of the year at Hogwarts until Albus realised what had happened.”

“And then our Ginny…” Molly added. “She was possessed by something belonging to him during her first year. Oh, it has been terrible for her to recover from. The nightmares…”

Arthur nodded as he squeezed his wife’s hand.

“Aye, and it is worse because no one has a clue, nor would they believe anyone, not even Albus if he were still here.”

“Before anyone believes it, he will need to be seen, and he will not allow that until he is ready. It will be just like the last time, but even worse.”

“What do we do?” Hestia Jones asked.

Sirius offered her a comforting smile.

“The same as we did last time, whatever we can, when we can. First thing is first, we need to arrange the old guard we set up before the end of the war. Arthur, can I leave you in charge of that?”

“Of course.”

“Other than that, we need to keep our eyes and ears open, gather what information we can, and act accordingly. Without Albus, this will not be easy, but it never was. We will be needed, and I can confidently say that it might just get worse than last time.”

“We almost lost last time,” Doge pointed out.

“We have only lost the war when we have lost hope, and I never will, not until he is finally gone.”

It was all but impossible to inspire them the way Albus had.

Before, he’d been there with reassuring words, and also the presence and reputation to assuage their concerns, and without him, the Order itself might just crumble. However, they had to try, had to do whatever they could to fight the coming darkness, and not allow Voldemort the victory he so craved.

(Break)

Harry,

It must be fascinating where you live. I don’t think I have visited Texas before, but maybe I will one day.

So, when are you going to make time to see me?

Sabine Eloise Van Droombeeld

It was a short missive, but one that brought a smile to his lips; something that so little could do after having looked through the trunk Albus had left for him.

He appreciated the man’s efforts, he truly did, but if anything, it had made Harry realised just how daunting the task ahead of him was.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he picked up the letter the man had left for him and read it once more.

Harry,

What you will find within is everything I have managed to gather about Tom Riddle, of his life, and anything else I believe might be useful to you.

I had hoped to add more pieces to the puzzle, but I have left you with a list of places of interest for you to investigate when you are ready to do so.

Again, I am sorry that the picture is not as complete as either of us would like, but as ever, my faith in your success is unwavering.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Much to his relief, his cloak was among the plethora of other items, and to his surprise, the wand he had seen the headmaster using during their lessons together, with another note.

Both were attached to an old book of what appeared to be children’s tales.

Harry,

I am certain you will find page 43 to be most informative.

Albus

The Tale of the Three Brothers.

I made for an interesting read as a standalone piece, was something of a magical fable with a moral message that wasn’t lost on Harry but quickly forgotten as he made the connection between what the three brothers had requested from Death, and the two items in his possession.

Were he not convinced that Albus would not joke about such a thing, he would dismiss the connection out of hand or even deem the man quite mad.

The cloak, however, had been in the Potter family for generations, and the wand was certainly made of the same eerie, familiar magic that called to him.

This wand was not like his own.

There was something quite deadly about it, as though it hungered for violence, that it would readily answer to the very blood in Harry’s veins if he were to call upon it.

For now, he had set it aside.

He would look into further, but was not ready to face it, not when the next revelation he came upon was occupying his thoughts.

Among the books Albus had left him that would undoubtedly prove to be most useful was one that was crucial. It had been in a silk bag, that when opened, unleashed a wave of the most unpleasant of magicks Harry had ever come across.

Horcruxes.

The pages explaining what they were and how they were created had been torn from a book of sorts, one that Albus did not wish for Harry to be in possession of.

With the pages were notes from the headmaster himself, his thoughts and advice on how they could be destroyed.

It was simple enough to do so given the power of the object. What did trouble him was the final note from Albus pertaining to them.

Tom would not be satisfied with just one. Having seen him deteriorate over the years, I strongly suspect there are more.

Keep your wits about you, Harry, and take nothing for granted.

I do not believe he would use just anything to house a piece of his soul. His ego would not allow it. He would seek out items of significance to himself and the very few things he holds dear.

See the included memories I have gathered. They will give you something of an insight as to the type of boy he was, and the man he became.

There was a dozen or so vials included in the trunk, along with a pensieve and other trinkets he’d not yet inspected.

Albus had gone to great lengths to prepare him as best he could, and yet, Harry knew the man had barely scratched the surface. That would be up to him, and there was no time to waste.

How many Horcruxes could one person make?

Harry did not know how to begin answering that question.

Soul magic was not something taught at any school, was banned in just about every magical community across the world, and yet, somehow, Tom Riddle had managed to access the knowledge.

Harry was out of his depth, and wasn’t afraid to admit that he would need assistance.

There was only one person he could think of asking, but doing so would raise questions, and though he did not think Croaker was a Death Eater, he would not risk falling into the same trap his parents had with Pettigrew.

For now, he would work with what he had in the hope he could uncover the truth of what it was he faced, but it might not be enough.

Tom Riddle had gone to great lengths to become what he was, and Harry would have to do the same to rid himself of the man.

He would never besmirch his own soul in such a way, but he could not deny that the road ahead of him would be full of more obstacles than he could’ve anticipated, and that no matter what he did, it truly might not be enough.

(Break)

“Make no mistake, my lord, Black is not the same man he was,” Severus warned. “He will be vigilant, and he will be ruthless.”

Lord Voldemort nodded.

He was pleased to be rid of the old fool, and though he certainly did not fear any man, let alone Sirius Black, he was aware that the dynamic of his foes had shifted.

Dumbledore had always been too weak, had lacked the ruthlessness to lead others in a war, and had been predictably so for the duration. Black, however, if Severus was right, would not be so reticent, which meant he would need to be just a little more cautious when sending out his followers on his behalf.

“Duly noted, Severus,” he said thoughtfully. “Ah, Lucius, it appears that you are not bringing me good news.”

“My Lord,” the man greeted him with a bow. “I am no longer a governor of the school. Black saw to it that I was ousted.”

“A smart move on his part,” the Dark Lord mused aloud, “one you should’ve seen coming, my slippery friend, but worry not. Hogwarts will fall all the same.”

Lucius breathed a sigh of relief.

“I do hope you will not fail to see a favourable Chief Warlock elected,” Voldemort warned. “I will be most displeased if you fail me again.”

Lucius stiffened and nodded.

“Of course not, my lord. It is something I am already working tirelessly on. Thicknesse will be named.”

“Good, now, leave me. I have much to think about and send in Barty and Wormtail.”

Both men left, and the Dark Lord leaned back in his chair.

Dumbledore was gone, a significant victory indeed, but there was one other that remained that troubled him so. As it was with his former Transfiguration professor, he did not fear Potter. He was just a boy, after all, but he would not fall victim to the same mistake he’d made more than a decade prior.

No, he would need to proceed with caution with Harry Potter, though he would see him dead sooner rather than later, and to that end, he needed information.

“You sent for me, my lord?”

“I did. I have a task for both of you, Barty. You are going to America.”

“America?” Pettigrew asked.

“That is where the Potter boy is. I want to know everything you can uncover about him. Your talent is wasted here, Wormtail, but there, it can be put to use.”

“O-of course, my lord.”

“The boy is not to be harmed. You are to observe only.”

“You can rely on me, my lord,” Barty added, shooting a glare towards Pettigrew as they left the room.

Were he not so useful, he would kill Wormtail.

The man could not be trusted, after all, but so long as he continued to serve, he would be allowed to breathe. If he could somehow find his way into Ilvermorny, it would be quite the boon.

And if he couldn’t, then he might just have outlived his usefulness.

(Break)

“They took it better than I expected.”

“They knew even before they came here,” Sirius pointed out. “Why else would we ask them to meet?”

“I know, but it could’ve been worse.”

Sirius nodded, fighting the urge to yawn.

“What happened to you before you got here?”

“I found Horace, but I wasn’t the only one. Somehow, I was followed there by Goyle and another Death Eater. I’m fine, Sirius, but I was careful enough that I couldn’t be tracked, not unless…”

“Someone did so from within the Ministry, if Slughorn was staying in a muggle area.”

“Exactly.”

“That is worrying. It means Voldemort already has people within the Ministry working for him. I will get Tonks to look into the Department of Magical Transportation. Where is Slughorn?”

“The only place I knew he would be safe. Maybe it will be easier convincing him to return to Hogwarts from there.”

“It will be once he’s tasted my cooking,” Sirius snickered.

Lily rolled her eyes at him, but did not disagree.

“I’m worried,” she admitted. “Everything feels as though it is falling apart already. Harry is pushing me away, and I don’t know why.”

“He’s a teenager,” Sirius reminded her. “All teenagers are little shits. Remember how I was at that age?”

“Don’t remind me,” Lily grumbled, “but it is different with Harry. At least he’s not given me any reason to worry about him where girls are concerned.”

Sirius laughed, his eyes alight with amusement, and Lily narrowed her own at him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Do not lie to me, Sirius Black! Don’t walk away from me either!”

He hurriedly activated his portkey as the woman began pursuing him and arrived in the kitchen of the ranch only a moment later to be greeted by a face from the past he’d not ever expected to see again.

“Hello, Horace.”

“Ah, Sirius Black. If you would’ve told me when you were a student that you would one day be the headmaster of Hogwarts, I would never have believed it.”

“Neither would I.”

Horace chuckled, and offered Lily a warm smile as she arrived, levelling a glare towards Sirius that meant the conversation they’d been having was not over.

“Have you met Harry, yet?” she asked.

“Briefly, before he went to his room. He seems to have a lot on his mind.”

Lily nodded, and Sirius too felt his concern for the boy beginning to grow. He’d not truly considered what the impact of Dumbledore’s death had on Harry, more so, the return of the Dark Lord.

“I’ll speak with him,” he assured Lily.

Maybe he just needed some reassurance, or perhaps he was truly just struggling.

Regardless, Harry needed him more than ever, and Sirius had no intention of not keeping the promise he’d made to James the day he’d agreed to become his son’s godfather.

(Break)

Having been an auror for more than three decades, and now the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, there wasn’t much that could shock Amelia Bones, but the sudden murder of Albus Dumbledore had done just that.

She wouldn’t say she had ever been the biggest fan of the man. He’d always been a little too idealistic for her liking, reticent, and even outright irritating in his ways. Amelia, however, held a deep respect of him and all he’d done for wizarding Britain.

He’d stepped up to face Grindelwald when all seemed to be lost on the continent and had served the last several generations of students as their Headmaster of Hogwarts, and before that, the Professor of Transfiguration.

Despite what personal feelings she had of him, she would not deny his loss was greatly felt and would be for many years to come.

Still, he was gone now, and the best she could do was see that he got justice, that those responsible for his death were not allowed to get away with it, something that was being made difficult by the incessant interruptions from the Minister and his ilk.

“You can go to Bones all you like, Robards. These are the Minister’s orders!”

Amelia shook her head as she opened the door to her office to find a red-faced John Dawlish standing nose to nose with Gawain Robards, who was equally furious.

“The Minister is not a fucking Auror!” Robards spat back. “What the hell does he know about investigating a murder?”

“What is going on here?” Amelia demanded to know.

“Dawlish here is trying to take all of the evidence we have gathered of Dumbledore’s murder.”

“Minister’s order, Madam Bones,” Dawlish said with a grin, handing her a roll of parchment.

She all but snatched it from the man and took a calming breath.

“I would remind you, Dawlish, that you work for me. In this office, we do not do the political bidding of anyone. You were assigned to Cornelius by me, and I will have you back in Knockturn Alley wiping sick from your boots before you can pucker up to kiss his arse. Understood?”

Dawlish nodded sulkily.

“If Cornelius wants this evidence, you can tell him to bloody well get down here himself and discuss it with me. Now, get out of my sight.”

Dawlish hurried away, but he would be back soon enough.

“I want copies of all of this, Robards,” she instructed, “and make it quick. It won’t be long before Cornelius arrives.”

“What is the Minister doing?”

“Trying to make sure there is no scandal that will reflect badly on him, I expect,” Amelia huffed irritably.

“Fucking idiot,” Robards muttered. “I think you’ll want to see this.”

He handed her what she recognised as a report of what had been found at Barty’s house.

It had taken days for the curse breakers to enter the property and begin their work. Amelia wasn’t sure what they would find, but she’d expected something.

“They found nothing.”

“Nothing,” Robards confirmed. “What troubles me more is this.”

He handed her an accounting of Barty’s finances, and Amelia quirked an eyebrow at the parchment.

“It just came in,” Robards explained.

“I would bet this was what Cornelius wanted to stop becoming public knowledge. What do you think?”

“I think it is suspicious, Madam Bones. It means that there was foul play where Mr Crouch was concerned. There is no way he emptied his Gringotts account of his own accord. Even if he did, where is all that gold?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Amelia sighed, “but I can think of so few that could get the better of him in such a way. No, I do not like this, Gawain. I want that house searched again. They had to have missed something, and until I specifically tell you, I want you working on this. I do not care what Fudge says. This is still your case as far as I’m concerned. Go on, best get on with it before he arrives.”

Robards nodded and took his leave of the department whilst Amelia hurriedly made a copy of each piece of evidence before returning it to the files.

She’d only been back in her office for a few moments when a knock sounded at the door.

Before she could respond, it was shoved open, and a purpling Cornelius entered with both Dolores and Dawlish in tow.

“What is the meaning of this?” the Minister seethed, holding up the piece of parchment Dawlish had shown her.

“Ah, it is nice to see you, Cornelius. As requested, the evidence is all here for you.”

The man frowned at her before flicking through it and nodding.

“You’re treading a very thin line, Amelia,” he warned, his eyes widening as she stood.

“Do not think you can threaten me, Cornelius. You may hold the office of Minister of Magic for now, but I can assure you, I will outlast your tenure. You’ve gotten what you came for, now, get out of my office. I do not have time for your blustering and posturing this evening.”

He was taken aback by her rebuttal, but before he could offer a response, Amelia took it upon herself to usher the trio from the room and slammed the door behind them.

“Idiot,” she muttered.

He was getting worse.

Over the past few years, he had become fuller of himself, more daring, and with all that was happening around them, his stupidity would know no bounds.

Amelia wasn’t certain what was happening, what had transpired that led to Dumbledore’s death, but she had been in the game long enough to see the early signs, and something wasn’t sitting right with her.

What she needed in all of this was an ally, someone who could negate Fudge on the Wizengamot, and someone not afraid to tread on any toes.

Given his juvenile record, she never thought she’d think, let alone consider it, but her best bet was with Sirius Black, the new headmaster of the school, and the one man that might just be able to keep Cornelius and his associates in line whilst Britain adjusted to Albus’s loss.

(Break)

He could hear the thudding of the boys’ knuckles as they slammed against the punchbag. It had been one of the very best investments Sirius had made for Harry. It had helped him immeasurably over the years vent his anger and frustrations, and he thrived in his lessons.

He was proud to see his godson was keeping up with the training, even after obtaining his wand.

“Can I come in?”

“You already are, aren’t you?”

Sirius closed the door behind him and watched for a few moments as Harry finished his workout.

“You’ve got a mean punch. Your father had that too.”

“You already told me that.”

“What’s wrong, Harry?”

The boy shook his head before taking a sip of water.

“Everything, isn’t it?”

“I get why it might feel that way, but it will get better. We are not being idle.”

“The Order.”

Sirius nodded.

Sometimes, he regretted telling Harry as much as he had, but if there was anyone who deserved the truth, it was him.

“It’s not what it once was…”

“And won’t be without Dumbledore, which can be a good or bad thing. You will be without his brilliance, but without his morality. The Death Eaters can be given something to fear.”

“Fudge won’t like that.”

“Fudge is a fucking idiot.”

“True, but I wouldn’t put it that way in front of your mother.”

He did not miss the grimace of the boy at the mention of the woman.

“She’s worried about you, Harry.”

“So, it won’t be too long before I become a prisoner.”

“That is not going to happen, but you must be careful. The last thing she wants is for you to be unhappy. Your friends will still be able to visit for your birthday week, and so long as you’re vigilant, nothing has to change.”

He released a deep breath.

“For now,” he murmured. “So, I can visit the Delacours? Gabrielle has invited me to dinner next week.”

“You can. I won’t let you become a prisoner, Harry. I saw what it did to your parents for all the time they were locked away.”

His words seemed to be getting through to him, and Sirius gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Things will change, that is unavoidable. When people realise what is happening, it will get worse, just like last time…”

“And he will come looking for me.”

Sirius could not bring himself to lie to the boy.

“That too is inevitable, but we will do all we can to keep you safe.”

“You know as well as I do that it will be for nothing. He’ll find a way, just as he did with Dumbledore. I don’t need to be kept safe from him, Sirius, I need to be ready.”

“Isn’t that what you have been preparing for all these years? Come on, Harry, I helped raise you. I know what you are like, and I know that you have played over every possible scenario in your head more times than you can recount, just as I have. I can’t say that you will ever be ready to face him. He is the very worst kind of monster. I have seen what he is capable, have felt his power as he has cut down people I care about. Facing him is not something you should be relishing.”

“But it is,” Harry said with a shrug. “If there is anyone that should be fearful of him, it’s me, but I’m not. Maybe it is the impertinence of youth, as Dumbledore would say. I’m just not scared of him.”

He meant it, and Sirius hoped that didn’t change with all that was to come.

Harry was plagued by dreams, or memories of what had happened to James, but he’d never truly witnessed the power Voldemort possessed.

If there was a way to ensure that never happened, Sirius would do all he could to see it done.

He, however, knew better than to make promises he couldn’t keep.

If Voldemort did not find Harry, Harry would find him.

The very thought terrified him, and yet, he knew that it would happen one day, that the two of them would find themselves standing face to face, and he would be powerless to stop it.

For now, however, he could keep Harry safe, so long as the boy allowed him to.

“I need you to promise me that you will not look for him, Harry, not until you are ready.”

“I’m not stupid, Sirius.”

“Then promise me.”

The boy huffed as he shook his head.

“I promise I will not go looking for Voldemort until I am ready.”

“Thank you. Now, come and eat dinner, but have a shower first. Your mother will not be pleased if you sit at the table like that.”

He left the room, and paused briefly on the landing, a deep frown marring his features.

Sirius did not believe Harry would break the promise he’d made to him, but it was loose at best.

He might not seek out the Dark Lord himself, but he’d not promised anything more. That in itself was concerning, troubling at best, yet, Sirius could not bring himself to ask for anything else.

He would not force a promise from Harry that he could not keep.