A Promise Kept - Chapter 52 - What Bird’s Do Best

What Bird’s Do Best

He watched as the clientele were escorted from the basement of what appeared to be a run of the mill pub named The Troll’s Stench, but Harry had learned it was not such a simple establishment.

No, in the basement, the owner hosted entertainments not so widely available, and Harry suspected quite illegal.

He wasn’t certain that watching vampires, Veela, and a plethora of other creatures dancing erotically for money was truly against the law, but it was certainly frowned upon.

Along with the activities here, he’d also discovered duelling circuits, places people could abuse potions in ways they were never intended to be, and even private, and exclusive clubs he’d yet managed to gain access to.

Knockturn Alley was proving to be quite the wonder in its own right, and having spent much of the past week here, he still felt as though he was barely scratching the surface of what could be found here.

Thus far, there had been little to help him in his own endeavours. Once or twice he thought he’d spotted a Death Eater or two, but before he’d gotten close enough to confirm it, they wee gone; swallowed up by the street.

Still, he was certain his time wasn’t be wasted. No, he merely needed to find a way to unlock the secrets kept here, and there were many.

Tonight, however, would not be that night, and though he was leaving frustrated, as with any other outing, his time spent here had been worthwhile.

Sooner rather than later, he would find someone that could assist him or point him in the direction of those that could.

Having made his way back into Diagon Alley, which remained much quieter, even during the day, he arrived back in his room at Grimmauld Place, which he had cleaned to make more liveable.

“Kreacher?”

The elf appeared with a gentle crack and offered him a bow.

“Master Harry’s breakfast is ready for him in the kitchen,” he announced.

Harry nodded approvingly.

He still didn’t fully trust the elf, but Kreacher seemed to be doing much better since having someone to serve permanently and not being forced to listen to the ramblings of a mad portrait.

“Thank you,” he offered appreciatively. “How is the rest of the house coming along?”

“Well, Master Harry.”

With that, the elf vanished, likely to continue with his work in ensuring the rest of the house was free of pests and other unpleasant surprises Harry had almost been caught out by.

Doxies were the least of his concerns when it came to anything pertaining to the Blacks.

Many of the items dotted around the home were cursed, so many that it made it difficult for Harry to think clearly when he was so acutely aware of the dangerous magic lurking in every corner.

Kreacher assured him he would gather the items so that they could be stored away from any that might happen upon them. Seeing as it had been a week of the elf working, Harry could only assume that there was more than he’d anticipated.

Still, the elf had managed to clean the kitchen, and even the main study of the home, the hallway leading to the front door, and four of the bathrooms, so that they were now free of mould, broken fixtures, and grime.

Harry no longer felt dirtier having showered after his excursions into the seedy underworld of magical Britain, and even the food Kreacher was providing seemed to be improving.

Today, Harry saw no reason to hesitate in tucking into his eggs, his mind already drifting to his waiting bed.

He was exhausted, but he knew he had a few letters to respond to before sleeping.

True to his word, he’d been writing to his friends at Ilvermorny, and had even received one from Gabrielle, who was not so pleased he’d left school without telling her, nor was she happy with him for ‘recklessly putting himself in danger’ as she had written, but much like the others, she understood.

His mother, however, was another matter entirely, though Harry did not know what Lily Potter was thinking.

He’d seen nor heard anything from her since arriving here a week ago, nor Sirius for that matter, but that would change soon enough when a meeting of the Order was called.

“Oh, I didn’t expect…”

He’d not heard the woman enter the house, and Harry had not spoken to Emmeline Vance much since meeting her more than two years prior when Sirius had brought her to the ranch for Christmas dinner.

“It’s quite alright,” Harry said dismissively. “Would you like some breakfast, or were you just looking for Sirius?”

She blushed slightly as she shook her head, and Harry chuckled.

“Whatever is going on between the two of you is none of my business.”

Emmeline frowned.

“I have no idea what is going on between us,” she huffed.

“Sirius is a complete prat when it comes to women. Somehow, he’s even more clueless than me when it comes to anything outside of, well… you know what he used to be like.”

“Oh, the whole school knew what he was like.”

“Was, is the optimum the word,” Harry sighed. “Since I’ve known him, he’s not been like that. I heard the stories, from him and my mum, but, well, I suppose he changed.”

Emmeline nodded.

“He’s different int hat way, but the same in others.”

“Still a bit of a prat then,” Harry snorted. “If you want any kind of clarity from him, you just need to ask. He’s not so good at showing much. It’s like getting blood from a stone with him, but he likes you, at least.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because he brought you home. He has never brought anyone home before,” Harry answered as he stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get some sleep.”

He left the woman to her thoughts, and headed for his room, tired, frustrated, but more than willing to do it all again tonight when the hustle and bustle of Knockturn Alley resumed.

Before that, however, he needed to answer the letters he’d received, get some sleep, and consider his next approach in navigating his way to the parts of the underworld that continued to elude him.

(Break)

“If you’re so worried about him, just visit,” Sirius urged. “it’s doing you no good just sitting here, fretting.”

“He’ll just think I’m checking up on him.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you want to do?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t need to know that.”

Sirius shook his head amusedly.

“He will be pleased to see you. Hary thinks you’re angry with him.”

“I am angry with him!”

“No, you’re just struggling to accept that he is not such a little boy anymore.”

Lily glared at him and Sirius held up his hands placatingly.

“Look, I get why you wouldn’t agree with his choices, and there will undoubtedly be many more he makes you don’t approve of, but as stubborn as both of you are, it needs to be you to extend an olive branch. Just be there for him.”

Lily deflated.

“I hate it when you’re right,” she grumbled.

“It doesn’t happen often.”

“No, it doesn’t, but it’s usually important things that matter when you are.”

“So, are you going to see him?”

“I will.”

“Thank Merlin for that. It’s horrible when you’re moping around here. Better yet, why are we still here?”

Lily frowned at the question.

“I have no idea…”

“Then we are bloody well going home,” Sirius declared.

“I don’t think Harry…”

“He can have my flat in Diagon Alley. It’s got the same protections as Grimmauld Place, and he’ll probably appreciate the privacy of not having the Order coming in and out as they please.”

“I don’t like the idea of him living alone…”

“Isn’t that what he is already doing?”

“I suppose so,” Lily sighed. “What about the creatures?”

“I’ll have Edward take care of them, and we both know Harry will be visiting regularly.”

Lily did not seem entirely convinced but eventually nodded her agreement.

“I’ll start packing.”

Sirius offered her an encouraging smile, and though she was nervous, there truly was no reason to remain here. She and Harry had been brought here so that he could be raised out of the public eye, and to keep him safe from any reprisals from the Death Eaters.

Now, no such thing was necessary, so, it made sense to return to Britain permanently. Lily just hoped that Harry would be happy to see her.

(Break)

“Well, what does it say?” Olivia demanded.

“It would really help if you gave me a chance to read it,” Wendell grumbled.

He did so, and nodded in relief, though that feeling would not last.

“He is fine,” he informed the others.

They too settled somewhat, but the entire process would only begin once more whilst they waited to hear from Harry.

So far, he was staying in touch regularly and had even sent an enchanted box so their letters could be shared without the lengthy delay of the postal service between Britain and America.

Even so, it wasn’t the same as him being here. Ilvermorny was not the same without Harry.

Everything seemed to be just that little less fun, and there was a dark cloud hanging over each of them.

“He’s really fine?” Olivia pressed.

“Yes, he is fine.”

The girl nodded, and Wendell frowned as he watched her speaking with Maggie and Marisa.

“She went to see him the night before he left,” Isabelle whispered, grinning at him suggestively.

“I really didn’t need to know that,” Wendell groaned.

“If I have to live with that knowledge, so do you.”

He could only shake his head in response.

It had been clear for some time that Olivia liked Harry in such a way, and she’d finally acted on it. To what end, Wendell didn’t know. Maybe the two of them had simply thrown caution to the wind and enjoyed an evening together.

Not that it was any of his business, and in truth, he didn’t want any of the details, though it seemed that Isabelle was quite keen to share them.

“No,” he said firmly. “I do not want to know anything else.”

“You’re no fun!”

“I don’t want those thoughts invading my mind more than they already are. Whatever else you know, you can deal with.”

She pouted at him, and Wendell checked his watch.

It would be getting late in Britain again soon, and although it seemed that all was quiet, that certainly would not remain. Not only was Harry determined to do what he deemed to be necessary to win the war, he had quite the talent for finding himself in and causing trouble.

It was just a part of who he was.

(Break)

He could only marvel at the ability of the room.

With the Hogsmeade trips having been cancelled, Draco needed somewhere he could think away from the rest of his house, somewhere he wouldn’t be disturbed, and somewhere he could plan for what he’d been task to do, especially as the Dark Lord had granted him so little time.

Getting his fellow students here was a problem in itself, and then finding a way to ensure they are transported out of the castle was another.

The portkeys would work, that he did not doubt, but it was activating them whilst they were in contact with the others that stumped him.

Bones and Abbott were always together, so he would need to find a way of subduing both before sending them on.

Boot was more a loner, so that shouldn’t be so difficult, and Macmillan and Smith should be simple enough to deal with.

Still, he would have a small window to operate in.

When the first students were taken, it would not be so long before their absence was noted.

No, Draco needed to plan carefully, and it had to be precise.

How he would achieve what he’d been tasked with, he was unsure, but he knew that he could not afford to make mistakes.

The last thing he wished to do was provoke the ire of the Dark Lord. He had seen the state of the others after they had done so, and he did not wish to experience the same discomfort they had.

He shuddered at the thought and took a deep breath to calm himself, once more reminded that failure simply was not an option.

(Break)

He arrived a little earlier in Knockturn Alley than he usually would, hoping to catch a glimpse of something he might use to his advantage. It was certainly quieter in the daylight hours, but those that frequented the street still tended to conceal their identities as they went about their business.

For the most part, they were here to purchase things that were not necessarily illegal, but certainly questionable in nature.

Borgin and Burke’s proved to be popular, as did some of the street vendors who, on the surface, were selling nothing nefarious, but Harry had seen more than a few questionable items being passed from hand to hand.

Not that he was here to focus on such things. That was a job for the Aurors, after all. No, Harry was more concerned about identifying any with ties to the Death Eaters or Dark Lord, and thanks to Albus, he had quite the list of names.

That, however, meant little when such people would be well-versed in changing their appearance on whim, so he knew he would need to find his way into the places not so readily accessible.

He was still yet to figure that out, but he was certain that if he listened to enough conversations, he would pick something up of use.

With that in mind, he made his way towards one of the pubs he’d taken note of during his first visit.

It was a considerable distance from any apparation of portkey points, and the security was not insignificant. Two burly wizards flanked either side of the entrance and getting by them was the first hurdle he faced.

What came after, Harry didn’t know.

He would be blind to the measures in place until he was inside; something that did not rest easily with him.

Nonetheless, this would only be one of many risks he would be taking in the coming months, perhaps years if the war was drawn out longer than he hoped.

With a shake of his head knowing this could go badly quickly, Harry approached and carefully slipped by the guards, immediately feeling the magic that would see him detected were it not for the cloak he wore.

Most other approaches would create quite the scene, and he thanked his ancestors for the gift he’d inherited.

Without it, he would likely be either fighting for his life, or fleeing for it.

This was not a place for the faint at heart.

Above the wall hung a dozen or so heads that had belonged to some notorious vampires over the centuries, and along the walls, other prizes taken from magical hunts.

There were troll limbs, a giant’s toe, a dragon’s tongue, and even what the plaque claimed to be a nundu’s eye. It was certainly feline in nature, and from an enormous cat of sorts.

Harry could not speak of the provenance of the harvested parts, but they seemed genuine enough, and the barman had not lived an easy life.

In the one hand with only three fingers, he polished a glass with a rag attached to a hood that served as his other limb. One of his eyes had been violently removed judging by the scars, and most of his teeth exposed by his torn lips were not those he’d been born with.

How he was relieved of each bit was a curiosity in itself, but more so were the patrons.

There was a table of hags tucking into a platter of raw liver, dozens of hooded and robed witches and wizards, a few goblins, and what Harry suspected was a vampire sitting with a group of scraggly men, who were undoubtedly werewolves.

He could only shake his head beneath his cloak as he stood by the shady humans.

If there was any that could tell him of the dealings of the Dark Lord, it would be them.

To Voldemort, creatures were only fit for being used to do his bidding, and he would not include them in anything of import, except perhaps for Greyback, and having seen numerous photos of the werewolf, he was not one of those gathered with the vampire.

No, these werewolves appeared to be rather nervous, troubled, and tired.

Perhaps they were worried about what Voldemort’s return would mean for them.

If they were smart, they wouldn’t be hanging around in places like this, but then again, where else could they go?

At the very least, they were made to feel unwelcome in most other establishments.

It reminded Harry of Remus and the plight the man had dealt with for much of his life, and he found that he missed him. He did not know him well, but Lupin had been one of his father’s best friends.

Once more, he shook his head as he edged closer to one of the groups of humans and listened closely to what was being said.

“I already told you, I don’t know nothing,” one of the men said frustratedly. “I haven’t seen Travers since before the Ministry.”

“Well, people are talking. They say he’s hiding, running scared from Potter.”

“Bollocks, he’s not afraid of Potter. He’s just playing it carefully whilst he works it all out.”

“Is it true that Greyback is on the way here?”

“Who told you that?”

“Just heard it,” a man replied with a shrug. “Like I said, people talk.”

“People need to learn to shut their stinking traps. It’s dangerous to talk too much, for everyone.”

“Even you?”

“Especially for me. Now, shut up. We don’t know who might be listening in here.”

Harry frowned beneath his cloak.

If Greyback was indeed on his way to Britain, or already here, it explained why the werewolves appeared to be nervous. The were wolf was a menace, and his reputation was not unfounded, after all.

Wherever he went, he added to his vast pack, and those that refused him did not live long after.

It was a troubling revelation, but nothing Harry didn’t expect after what had happened to Remus.

Still, it was unwelcome news.

“Bugger this, I’m getting another drink,” one of the men declared, standing suddenly before Harry could move completely out of the way. “What the bloody hell?”

A shrieking sound emitted from behind the bar as the man stood on the hem of his cloak, exposing his head, and Harry chastised himself for his error.

The man who’d trodden on the cloak stared at him dumbly for a moment, his eyes wide in shock before raising a finger to point at him.

“It’s bloody Potter!”

“Well, this isn’t good,” Harry sighed as every pair of eyes in the pub came to rest on him, with many drawing their wands. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of keeping this civil, is there?”

He readied himself for the inevitable response, but it served him to keep them inactive for as long as he could. Still, the peace would not last, but as Harry felt his plan begin to fall into place, he readied his own wand, ready to spring into action.

(Break)

He truly had no desire to reside within Grimmauld Place, but Sirius could not deny that it was one of the safest places in the entire country, and certainly most dangerous to any potential enemy who might attempt to breach the protections.

Even so, his memories here had never been good. It was well enough to spend an hour or so here whilst hosting Order meetings or dealing with the correspondence pertaining to his position as the Lord of the family, but Sirius never thought he would find himself here more frequently.

“I think I’ll unpack,” Lily murmured, “and see where Harry is.”

Sirius nodded as he made his way towards the bedroom that had belonged to his parents, and though it was in pristine condition, the very thought of sleeping in it sickened him to his stomach.

Instead, he opted to use his own room two floors below, a deep frown marring his features as he opened the door.

He’d looked in briefly once or twice since assuming his lordship but had not lingered.

Now, however, it seemed he would be spending more time here.

With a shake of his head, he drew his wand to clear the accumulated dust, and repair some of the broken furniture, likely caused by his mother in a fit of rage after he’d fled the family home.

He frowned as he looked at his disturbed bedding, straightening it out and placing the pillows where they should be.

Sirius used to hide in here.

When things had gotten so bad, he barely left during the holidays until Charlus and Dorea had taken him in.

He smiled at the memories of the two.

Without them, Sirius did not doubt his mother would’ve attempted to kill him rather than see him where he was now.

Walburga Black had been unhinged, and even now as a portrait, little had changed.

“I remember when you offered to show me your room.”

“I did no such thing,” Sirius denied. “I said I would show you a room we could be alone.”

He could almost feel the woman rolling her eyes at him.

“I hate this house,” Sirius huffed. “Everything about it. If it wasn’t so useful, I’d burn it to the ground.”

She rubbed his arm comfortingly.

“I get it. Bad memories of somewhere stay with you.”

Sirius nodded as he turned to look at the woman.

“Any reason you are here?” he asked amusedly.

“There might be.”

“Care to share?”

Emmeline shook her head.

“No.”

“Well, then I will not be sharing my ice cream with you.”

“Do you mean the tub of Fortescue’s you tried to hide in the freezer?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the grinning Emmeline.

“You had better not…”

“No, not me. Tonks found it yesterday, but I would’ve eaten it.”

“You bloody well would’ve too,” Sirius grumbled. “So, other than wanting to steal my ice cream, what brings you here?”

“Maybe I like it here.”

“No one likes it here.”

“That’s true, but there are bits of it I like.”

“And what bits would they be?”

“I’m not exactly sure. Kreacher is a better cook than me. Speaking of which, he has dinner on the table.”

“Dinner is on the table?”

“He’s gotten into the habit of it since Harry came here, even if he is rarely back until the morning.”

“Lily won’t like that,” Sirius sighed. “You’ve seen him?”

Emmeline nodded.

“He sleeps a few hours in the morning, leaves, come back, and then leaves again. I have no idea what he is up to.”

“Nothing good. Well, let’s not let the food go to waste. At least I know this lot won’t be poisoned. Kreacher seems to like Harry, for some reason.”

“Probably because he doesn’t treat him as he would something you’d find on the bottom of your shoe.”

Sirius said nothing in response.

He despised the elf as much as he did the house, even if Kreacher was somewhat more pleasant than he’d been during his youth. At least he’d stopped muttering curses under his breath.

“He does this every night for Harry?” Sirius asked, gesturing to the spread.

Emmeline nodded.

“Every night, and he makes his bed, washes his clothes…”

“Everything an elf should do,” Sirius chuckled as he took a seat and helped himself to some chicken. “This is good.”

“It is,” Emmeline agreed, frowning as wireless crackled into life.

“Good evening, this is Albert Stephens for the Wizarding Wireless Network. Reports are coming in of a major incident taking place in Knockturn Alley. We will keep you informed of the developments as the come in, but Aurors are warning members of the public to steer clear of the area until further notice.”

Sirius immediately felt a feeling of dread fill him.

“You don’t think…?” Emmeline asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” Sirius huffed. “I’d bet my last galleon that Harry is involved in this. Bloody hell!”

“He’s not here,” Lily huffed as she entered the kitchen. “What is it, what’s happened?”

Sirius and Emmeline shared a look, urging the other to explain.

“Honestly, we don’t know. We don’t even know if Harry is involved.”

“Involved in what?”

“Further developments on the reports of a major incident taking place in Knockturn Alley…”

(Break)

She watched as Voldemort spoke to the man that was in charge of administering potions to them to ensure they didn’t waste away. Sabine didn’t know how long she’d been kept prisoner, nor did she remember how she got here.

Her memories of being taken were hazy at best, but she was here now and wished to be anywhere else.

Harry.

If he knew she was here, he would come, wouldn’t he?

“My lord, Potter has been seen in Knockturn Alley!” an urgent voice interrupted the quiet of the basement come dungeon.

One of the men locked in another cage laughed uproariously.

“Hear that? He’s coming for all of you!”

“Shut up!” the man with the large nose snapped, silencing the man with a flick of his wand.

Voldemort immediately left the room, and Sabine glared at the man with the potions. Severus. That was his name.

“Harry is going to kill all of you,” she choked. “You can’t hide from him,” she called after his retreating form.

Perhaps her words were only spoken to bring comfort to herself, but Sabine had realised that all of them here were wary of Harry Potter; a thought that brought a weak smile to her lips, and one that would get her through another day, at least.

(Break)

“The Dark Lord will reward us for taking him in!”

“Yes, he will!”

“Get him!”

The place was already stained by a seemingly unending misery, but Harry became aware that not all here wished him ill, with some certainly not wanting to involve themselves with apprehending him.

Still, he could take no chances, and as the first of the explosions sounded, he threw himself to the ground, stuffing his cloak into his pocket to prevent its loss.

Decoy Detonators.

He’d discreetly dropped several of them that he’d taken the time to modify and had sent them on their way. They were able to operate invisibly now, and liquids could be added to them for whatever purpose the user found for such an improvement.

For Harry’s part, he’d been uncertain what would be best.

If he merely needed to create a distraction, they were best left as intended by the Weasley twins, but in situations, such as the one he found himself in now, something a little more potent would prove to be useful.

With that in mind, he’d added bubotuber pus to some, leaving any unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity of the explosion with some rather nasty boils to contend with.

He had quite gotten further than the pus for ideas, but for now, it would suffice.

“AURORS!” one of the patrons yelled.

“WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!”

“GET POTTER, YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!”

Aurors…under attack?

Harry could’ve laughed at the assumptions, if things were not so dire for him.

Still, he used the distraction to his advantage and hurried towards the door, only to be stopped in his tracks by the presence of the burly guards he’d slipped by on the way in.

They did not look so accommodating as they raised their wands, and Harry knew that it would take more than a few decoy detonators to get past them.

One of the men hurled a bone-splintering curse towards his face, and he deftly dodged it, returning with a flurry of jinxes to distract them whilst he set to work on transfiguring some of the nearby debris from the explosions.

Two large dogs padded towards the men, lunging through the air as they neared, only to be immolated by a ball of fire.

What his attackers did not expect however, was for the ashes to be banished towards them, transforming into steel balls.

The sound of dozens of pieces of metal thudding dully against their flesh could be heard over the cacophony of screams, and Harry took advantage of his success, charging forwards once more, his wand a blur as he made another bid to escape.

The cascade of water spewing from his wand was frozen ahead of him, surrounding the guard’s legs, and allowing him to slip by, and his curse that followed all but demolished the front of the building as he passed through the doors.

Much of the street trembled from the impact, but the attention of many had already been garnered.

Harry came to a skidding halt on the pavement to find dozens of people who’d spilled into the alley from nearby businesses, staring at him in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“Oh, come on!” he groaned, as more than a few raised their wands towards him.

“IT’S POTTER!”

“Fucking hell,” Harry huffed in response. “Everyone can already see that!”

He threw himself to the ground to avoid the onslaught of spells sent towards him and was sent skidding across the cobbled pavement from the force of the magicks impacting against each other, which oddly worked out in his favour, somewhat.

He was out of the line of fire, but not out of sight, and he only just managed to duck behind whatever building it was he’d been deposited in front of, only to see the entire rear of it torn away in a shower of bricks and mortar.

Still, it gave him a brief reprieve, and Harry wracked his brains for what he could do.

With a nod, and a slight grin to himself, he began transfiguring, chuckling when his construct was completed.

Truthfully, it was a monstrosity of a creation, but it was enormous, somewhat human-looking, and swung its makeshift club well enough to smash through the frontage of a nearby pub with apparent ease.

More to Harry’s relief, it seemed to have taken the attention away from him whilst those gathered attempted to either fight his golem off or fled for their lives.

He himself opted for the latter, ducking into another alley, as he caught sight of a familiar group of cloaked and masked figures.

“POTTER!” a feminine voice screeched after him.

By the time Bellatrix rounded the corner, Harry was already out of sight, hovering above her as a falcon.

For good measure, he did what birds seemed to do best. Taking aim, he defecated and heard the splat of it hitting her head. Before she could even catch sight of him, Harry was gone, gently chuffing to himself amusedly as he took his leave of the scene of chaos he’d created, and headed in the direction of Grimmauld Place, frustrated with his lack of progress, but pleased by his efforts.

(Break)

He watched as men and women fled from the gargantuan creation and surveyed the damage that had been caused. Several business would not be opening for several days, and more than a few had been cursed quite badly by Potter.

With his nostrils flaring, he levelled his wand towards the golem, the force of the resulting blast made even his own ears ring, but it stopped the animated monstrosity in its tracks.

With two more blasts from his wand, it was reduced to rubble; a feat that more than a dozen others combined had not managed to achieve.

“Well, where is he?” the Dark Lord snapped as Lucius approached.

“I don’t know, my lord. They lost sight of him when he created that thing.”

The Dark Lord’s jaw tightened, and he frowned as a displeased Bellatrix approached, her eyes ablaze with fury.

“Is that bird droppings?” Lucius asked.

The woman growled.

“It must’ve been an owl whilst I gave chase to Potter. He is gone, my lord.”

“Well, what was he doing here?”

“He was in my pub,” a gruff voice answered. “I don’t know how, not with my protections, but he was. Lucius…”

“I will ensure the damage is fixed, Brickell,” Malfoy huffed irritably.

The Dark Lord had already lost interest in the conversation and wondered why Potter was here.

It was term time.

He should be safely tucked away at Ilvermorny where Barty could keep an eye on him, but that evidently wasn’t so.

“I need information, Lucius, but first, I want this kept silent. No one is to know who was responsible for this. I will not give Potter the credit, nor any other reason to rally behind him.”

“Of course, my lord. I will look into it immediately.”

He hurried away, and the Dark Lord too took his leave, unable to ignore the magic that had become familiar with him in recent days.

Potter.

Oh, there had been no mistake. The boy had been here and had made quite the nuisance of himself. Still, it was no bother. Soon enough, he would regret all he’d done, but the Dark Lord could not deny he would’ve relished the opportunity to kill the boy.

That would inevitably be the solidifying testament to his greatness, but again, Harry Potter had managed to evade him.

(Break)

“Lily, we don’t even know if Harry is involved in whatever is going on. It’s Knockturn Alley,” Sirius pointed out. “There is always something happening there.”

The woman shook her head as she summoned her coat, and Emmeline followed suit.

Sirius knew it was merely wishful thinking that Harry wasn’t somehow involved, and he too put on his jacket, only to pause as the sound of the front door closed.

“Oh, hello Mrs Black, you horrible old cow. I just saw your niece. She’s as about as pleasant as you, but even more so when covered in bird shit. How do you like that?”

He laughed amusedly as the woman fired a string of expletives after him, and Harry even began whistling a jaunty tune, though he fell silent as he entered the kitchen.

“Hello, Mum.”

Lily quirked an eyebrow at him in response, and Sirius could see she was considering her next words carefully.

“Do not lie to me, Harry James Potter,” she warned. “Have you been in Knockturn Alley this evening.”

“Knockturn Alley. Why would I…”

He broke off and shook his head.

“How do you know about Knockturn Alley?”

Lily narrowed her eyes just enough for Sirius to know that Harry was likely in for a stern lecture.

“Your escapades are all over the radio and will probably be in the morning edition of The Daily Prophet.”

“Nice,” Harry replied with a smirk.

Sirius shook his head exasperatedly.

“Wrong thing to say, Harry,” he sighed.

Lily hummed before she deflated.

“The days I could give you a talking to and you would listen are long gone, but I like to think I did not raise someone reckless and foolish.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on getting caught. That was entirely an accident, and I did what was needed to escape. I even managed to crap on Bellatrix on the way out.”

“We heard,” Sirius snorted, sobering as Lily and Emmeline glared at him.

“Is that worth losing your life over?”

Harry frowned at the question.

“I’m trying to stay alive! The only way I can do that is by being rid of him and his followers, in case you have forgotten. Oh, and Greyback is on his way to Britain, so, there’s that too, and whatever else Old Tom is cooking up.”

He shook his head as he made his way towards the door.

“I will not hide from him, and I will not stop doing what I think is best to end this. You don’t have to like it, but you will respect my decisions. What the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“We decided that Britain is the best place for us,” Sirius answered.

“You mean you came to keep an eye on me.”

“No, Harry, that isn’t it at all,” Lily assured him. “We want to help you.”

It was clear he didn’t believe her, and he said nothing else as he left the kitchen.

“Leave him,” Sirius urged. “Just give him some space. That’s what he needs right now.”

Lily nodded, but she wasn’t happy about doing so and left the kitchen only a few moments later.

“So, you’re going to be here permanently?”

“It seems that way.”

“Then I suppose I should stop sleeping in your bed,” Emmeline said with grin. “See you tomorrow, Sirius.”

 Before he could respond, she was gone, and Sirius rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“I knew I bloody well made that bed,” he grumbled.