Harry Potter and The Black's Family Legacy

Four weeks Earlier

 

England had seen some of its hottest weather on record at the end of June and the beginning of July. In Little Whinging, where the gardens were usually pristine, now they looked yellowed and dry. Cars were dusty from the hosepipe ban, and houses had all the windows flung open to catch any chance of a breeze. Shops had sold out of fans, and everyone was desperate for cold air. Harry Potter had found a bit of coolness on the dry earth beneath the living room window. He had been home a week from Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. After Lord Voldemort’s resurrection and Cedric Diggory’s death, Harry had been waiting to hear the news every night.

 

He had not been getting the Daily Prophet, nor had he heard from his friends since he left Platform Nine and Three-quarters.

“Last but certainly not least, the wildlife has been going crazy this week. Owls have been seen all during the day. Usually, owls are active at night and sleep through the day, but people have reported seeing them during the day, including one sighting of an Eagle Owl,” the reporter finished with a chuckle.

“I bet that’s to do with his lot,” Vernon Dursley murmured.

“Vernon, the windows,” Petunia hissed.

“Sorry, love.” With the news finished, Harry carefully rolled out from the bush, dusting himself off. Knowing he did not want to return to the house, he walked away from Four Privet Drive toward a local park. He walked through a small car park, swinging the metal gate open. Above him, a bypass over the river took cars and lorries away from the Surrey town of Little Whinging. On the other side lie fields of gold blowing gently in a slight breeze that had kicked up. Harry sat on one of the swings, swinging back and forth to get a little more air. His mind seemed an absolute mess, jumping from seeing Peter Pettigrew to Lord Voldemort’s resurrection until it all jumbled into one. However, his head shot up as a twig snapped nearby.

“Now I’m getting paranoid,” Harry mumbled as he relaxed his grip on his wand in the waistband of his jeans. He was about to return to his thoughts when a scream pierced the air. Harry stood suddenly, running toward the disturbance. It sounded like a young child. Hermione would say his ‘saving lives’ thing had swung into action as he ran across to the other side of the park. Harry immediately spotted Dudley Dursley, his rotund cousin, Piers Polkiss, Gordon, and Malcolm, cornering a small child. He vaulted a second fence, and as he got closer, he could see it was Mark Evans, a local ten-year-old lad.

“Leave him alone,” anger crept into his voice. He hated bullies. Dudley’s three friends turned and sneered at the skinny, bespectacled boy. However, Dudley had a look of concern on his face, “Hey, dudders, wotcher doing?”

“Get lost, freak,” Dudley got his nerve back.

“Are you beating on a small kid again?” Harry asked, almost politely.

“He deserves it.” Dudley sneered.

“Leave it alone, Potter,” Piers Polkiss told him, but he reminded Harry of the cowardly Peter Pettigrew, causing his anger to grow.

“I told you to let Mark go,” Harry repeated menacingly, pulling his wand from his waistband. Dudley suddenly stood stock still, knowing precisely what Harry was holding.

“What are you going to do? Poke our eyes out,” Piers laughed, getting laughs from the other two gorillas, but Dudley watched him carefully. The wind began to pick up, branches tearing at their trunks as coldness crept across Harry.

“What are you doing, Freak? You can not do anything in front of my friends,” Dudley shouted as his friends ran off, terrified. Harry hauled Mark up.

“Run, go toward the houses,” he pushed him in the opposite direction as he began running for the bridge under the bypass. Dudley, despite his dimness, knew to stay close to Harry. It grew colder and colder as Harry started to hear screams echoing in his mind. Why were there Dementors in Little Whinging? Just as they reached the bridge, two Dementors appeared, hovering over them like winged forms of death.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM,” he cried out, but all happy thoughts had left Harry’s mind. Only a whisp emanated from the wand as it drew closer to him, slimy hands emerging from the cloak, wrapping themselves around Harry’s neck, pulling him closer to the empty void. The unbearable smell was one of Harry’s last thoughts before he slipped into semi-consciousness. However, as the Dementor began to draw the soul from his body, a small explosion seemed to occur. Magical energy burst from Harry driving the Dementor back.

 

The Dementor did not stay away for long, returning to his feast when an ethereal dog ran at it, barking silently. The creature flew away from Harry to join its partner before they disappeared altogether.

“Pup, Pup, can you hear me?” Harry was falling in and out of consciousness, thinking he was dreaming, “How’s the other one?”

“He will be fine. Not sure he had a soul, to begin with,” a second masculine voice sounded.

“Let’s get him home.”

“You cannot take him there. Dumbledore will discover his presence,” the second voice sounded panicked.

“You get the other boy home. I will take Harry to the Hall,” At those words, Harry fell into total unconsciousness.

 

“Do you think it’s right, keeping him from Dumbledore?” a familiar voice asked as Harry began to return to the living.

“I do not trust Dumbledore. You know the charms that the Goblins found on me. We do not know if the latest ones were from Molly or Albus,” a second voice replied. Why were they talking about Mrs Weasley and Professor Dumbledore? Harry lazily thought.

“You saw the letters.”

“I did-I think he might be coming around,” a masculine voice started, concern tinging the tone. Harry blinked a few times, the bright light receding until he looked up at a blue roof. He began to feel the soft pillows and sheets of the bed. The bed was a world away from his one at Four Privet Drive or even Hogwarts.

“Glasses?” Harry uttered, his throat parched and slightly sore.

“Oh yeah,” Sirius’s voice, he now recognised it, spoke, handing him his round always-broken glasses.

“Water.” He gasped. Sirius handed him a glass with a straw in it as his brain began to function. He glanced around the room. Harry lay in a four-poster bed similar to those in Hogwarts without all the draping. The room was blue as he had first thought, with constellations mapped out on the ceiling. The young teen noticed a desk, a bookcase, and two doors opposite his bed. Leaning against the bed was Remus Lupin, former Professor of Hogwarts. Sirius was kneeling by the side of the bed, looking at him worriedly.

“How ya doing, pup?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a ten-ton truck,” Harry replied, feeling sore all over, “Where am I?”

“You are in Hárasteorra Hall, the Black family mansion,” Sirius replied, sharing a look with Remus.

“What am I doing here?”

“Do you remember anything?” Remus asked.

“The last thing I remember is being attacked by a Dementor. Is Dudley all right?” Harry asked, almost frantically.

“First thing he asks is about his cousin,” Sirius snorted, then turned back to Harry, “As you were being attacked, there was a small magical explosion, which almost made the Dementor flee. Remus and I rescued you when the Dementor returned,”

“We have an inkling as to why that happened,” Remus suggested before Harry could question either of them. “However, you have been asleep for nearly two days.”

“When I woke up, I heard you say something about charm.” Remus looked to Sirius, not sure how to proceed.

“A day after I met you at Hogwarts, I visited Gringotts on the advice of a friend. Naturally, a lot happened, which I shall tell you about later. However, the main point is the Goblins found several charms layered on me.”

“Can they be removed? Have I got Charms on me?” Harry asked, slightly hysterically.

“Firstly, Sirius had his removed. Secondly, I can try a spell that will detect any charms or potions on or about your person,” Remus tried to calm the teen down.

“You’re a Defence teacher. How do you know these charms? Can you remove them?” Remus chuckled at the boy.

“I have travelled a fair bit. I am sure the spell I use, not even Dumbledore would know.” That comment earned Remus a frown from Sirius. “But yes, I know of spells and potions that allow charms to be removed from you,”

“Before we do that, we had better give him the letters,” Sirius suggested handing over the letters. Harry opened the first, which appeared to be official:

 

 

Harry read and re-read the letter, then looked at his quasi-uncles.

“So that’s it then, I’m expelled from Hogwarts. Did officials come around to snap my wand?”

“Read the next two before you get upset,” Sirius suggested. Harry ripped open the following letter, instantly recognising the handwriting of Arthur Weasley.

 

 

Harry wasn’t sure what to make of the letter. He had already been gone from the house at that point. He wondered what Dumbledore was up to as he took up the next letter.

 

 

“I’ve not been expelled. I only have to attend a disciplinary hearing?” Harry asked.

“Firstly, there should not have been any type of hearing at all. Secondly, we will fight this. You were protecting your cousin, who is well aware of magic. I will hire the best lawyer money can buy,” Sirius suggested.

“How can you hire a lawyer? You’re still a criminal,” Harry asked, confused.

“Erm, I’ll tell you about that later, when you’ve got a bit more strength,” his godfather returned, “But we thought you should see the letters, maybe send a message to Dumbledore at least to say you are safe, the Order is going mental at the moment we didn’t expect you to be asleep as long.”

“The Order? Why are they going mental? Where am I exactly?” Harry suddenly appeared nervous, “What did you give me for the Christmas of the third year?”

“A Firebolt, but why-“ Harry interrupted as he looked at Remus.

“What was in your office the first time I came there?” Harry stared at his one-time professor.

“A Grindylow!” Remus returned, Harry slumping down in the bed, “I can see what you were doing. After Fake-moody, you were checking to see if we were the real people,”

“Well, I’m in a strange place, I have no idea where I am, and now I’ve been given letters saying I’m expelled from Hogwarts.”

“I can understand,” Remus sympathised with the teen.

“Look, we’ve taken you to Hárasteorra Hall, which is in Suffolk. It’s the seat of power for the House of Black. I own several other properties, including a house in London the Order of Phoenix is using,” Sirius explained.

“The Order of Phoenix?” Harry interrupted.

“Back in the first war, and now in this war, the Ministry has refused to do much to quell the rising darkness. Because many pure-bloods sat on the Wizengamot and believed Voldemort’s rhetoric,” Remus went into lecture mode, “Professor Dumbledore created the Order of Phoenix, a guerrilla group to fight the Death Eaters. Your Mother and father were both a part of the group, as were many others,

“Mary McKinnon, Frank and Alice Longbottom, Holly Du Vere,” Sirius’s face looked conflicted at the last name. Harry looked at Remus and mouthed ‘Holly Du Vere?,’ but Remus returned with a ‘later,’ “But Dumbledore is all about stunning and forgiveness,”

“That doesn’t help when a Death Eater is raping a child!” Harry snarled.

“I agree, and many current members feel the same way, but one of their main tasks was guarding you.”

“Excuse me! What do you mean? Guarding me.” Harry’s anger looked fit to burst.

“Dumbledore felt you needed to be guarded, so many of the Order’s members rotated guarding you.”

“Well, they certainly did not do a very good job, did they?” Harry asked rhetorically before ranting, “Why haven’t I got letters from my friends? Where was the ‘guard’ when dementors attacked me?”

“Neither of us can answer those questions, but I suspect the answer lies with Dumbledore,” Sirius returned bitterly. Something had happened between his godfather and the Headmaster.

“You’ve had a lot of information thrown at you. Why don’t we check you for any charms?” Remus asked gently and received a nod. He waved his wand around, muttering in old Latin as a light emanated from around the teen, going from white to purple, to red, then brown. Harry watched as Remus’s face got angrier and angrier, and then he finally swore, “Goddammit,”

“What?”

“Firstly, he has a mild loyalty charm keyed to Ronald Weasley and seems to have ingested a love potion, which I think is keyed to Ginny Weasley. Those are just the newer charms,” Remus explained tightly, “He’s got charms that make him dislike Slytherins, especially Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape,”

“Similar to what I had,” Sirius muttered.

“There’s something to dim his intelligence, make him rasher. Harry will never be Stephen Hawking, but he should be doing better in all his subjects,” Remus gave the boy a grin, “But, there are two signatures I can make out, I think,”

“Let me guess, Albus Dumbledore and Molly Weasley,” Black deadpanned.

“I’ve also found the remnants of a block on your magic, it seemed to be keyed to part of your magic, but I’m not entirely sure what part,” Remus added with a dangerous growl.

“Do you think it’s the Potter Family magic?” Sirius asked.

“It could be, but it would have to be someone supremely skilled to find and separate that part of Harry’s magic.”

“Can we remove the charms?” Harry was suddenly outraged. Not only had Dumbledore put a block on him now, but he had also used several charms to keep him docile. So why the hell had he been placed with the Dursleys? Was that because of Dumbledore too?

“I can remove the charms, but it may exhaust you. Also, we can purge you of the potions, but it won’t be pretty.”

“Do it!” Harry commanded. Remus nodded, then retrieved a potion’s vial. Standing once again before Harry, he began to chant in a language Harry was unfamiliar with. But he felt like his skin was being ripped off, and his head was about to explode. Sirius had to hold him down as the werewolf continued. Finally, after ten long minutes, it was over, and Harry was left panting, feeling even worse than before.

“Are you sure you want to continue?” Remus double-checked. The teen just nodded as Remus administered the potion. As he predicted, the results were not pretty. Sirius had to use several rehydration charms and some nutrient charms to ease his stomach, but it ended over an hour later, leaving Harry exhausted.

~

            When Harry next awoke, the mid-afternoon sun flooded the room, but he felt much better. Just as the teen sat up, Sirius strode through the door. Harry looked him over, noting that his godfather looked so much better than when they had been in Dumbledore’s office. His face wasn’t as gaunt, nor did he look skeletal.

“Harry?” the man looked at him questioningly.

“Hi, Sirius, I feel much better,” the teen replied with a smile, testing his feet as he stood up.

“Erm, you look a bit different,” Sirius looked startled, “You look like my Grandfather, Arcturus, except with green eyes,”

“Really?” Harry appeared surprised as he opened one of the doors to find a bathroom. He entered the white-tiled room until he stood in front of the mirror. His hair lay slightly flatter on his head (he had grown it longer like his godfather), but his face appeared narrower, almost aristocratic, “Why would I have a glamour over me? I assume it’s a glamour.”

“A very strong one, one that grew with you,” Sirius leaned against the door, “Well, that’s a problem for another day. Shall we take a tour of the house? There are some clothes in the cupboard for you.”

“What do you mean clothes in the cupboard?” Harry looked perplexed.

“Well, I thought this would be your room,” Sirius replied, rubbing his neck, “If you would like it,”

“Really?”

“I do not promise anything, but I have taken the Head of the Black Family. I will contact lawyers to see about getting a trial or something,” Sirius suggested, “I was hoping you would want to live with me.”

“Of course, I do,” Harry hugged the older man, who appeared more mature than the last time he had seen him. Then, after getting changed into a pair of fitted jeans and a sweater, he found Sirius standing outside.

“So Hárasteorra Hall is close to the village of Hárasteorra. I suppose they all think we are a little bit eccentric here, though I haven’t been here in years,” the man explained, standing in the courtyard. The whole ‘manor’ was one big square, but he couldn’t help but look up at the two tall towers. Sirius realised what he was looking at. “Those are the sleeping quarters.”

“Manor?” Harry whispered as they started outside. Hárasteorra Hall could only be described as a Fortified Manor. Sirius led them across a bridge. The manor was surrounded by a moat, then out onto the extensive grounds. Sirius showed him around the stables, which housed Buckbeak and several horses, which Sirius promised Harry that he would teach him to ride.

“Can Muggles not see Buckbeak and the like?” Harry asked as they walked away from the stables.

“No, there are Anti-Muggles charms around. It makes them forget what they see,” Sirius explained. There were gardens, including a beautiful Rose garden with a statue of a lovely woman.

“That’s my grandmother, Melania,” Sirius explained, then told Harry about the Black Family. “The Blacks had always served the Wuffingas dynasty in the Kingdom of the Angles, serving as his Wizard council. When East Anglia became part of England under Edward, it became an earldom under Sirius the First. He based himself here and built the first Hall. Sirius III became the first Duke of Anglia in the early 17^th century. When the statute of Secrecy came into force ninety years later, Muggles thought the title had become extant, and the Duke of Norfolk become the oldest dukedom.”

“Is that what happened to most titled wizards?” Harry asked.

“Most wizards who hold titles, hold the titles thought gone for good. We are still Peerages in the Royal books, but we don’t sit in normal Muggle society.” Sirius replied, “However, in the last hundred years, our great history has been corrupted by those who would side with our society’s darker side. The Black Family motto ‘Always Pure’ was once Domus est, Pura Semper, Always pure to the house.”

“You have a Quidditch Pitch?” Harry asked excitedly, walking straight past the Greenhouses.

“It’s not a Quidditch Pitch as such, but a place to play,” Sirius pointed to the hoops at either end of the freshly mowed grass lawn. Sirius led them back onto the bridge and into the manor, where down one arm was a Great Hall for entertaining visitors with the parlour used as the Floo room. The pair went to the basement first, which held a storeroom, a Potions chamber, and a training room. The final room was the Wardstone room, with a massive chunk of glistening black stone.

“This is the Ward stone. It holds all the power of the family and anchors the Wards to protect the Manor against invasion.” Harry could feel the magic coming off the stone, humming at their proximity. Back on the main floor was a Kitchen where five elves, all wearing suits (Though they looked uncomfortable), stood.

“You have elves?” Harry looked at the older man, knowing how Hermione would feel about that.

“I have several elves accountable to me as Head Black. I would like to introduce Elkley, Steward Elf of the Blacks, meaning he is in charge  of all the other Elves,”

“I is pleased to meet you, Master Harry,” This elf was slightly taller than the others and appeared a bit more dignified.

“Why do they look so uncomfortable?”

“When I took over, I did not like seeing them in tea towels, so I made them create their suits or dresses,” Sirius shrugged, then turned to look at another much younger elf on the end of the line. “This is Nyal. He will be your personal house-elf.”

“My house-elf?” Harry asked, looking at the creature. The young house-elf reminded him a little of Dobby. His big, rounded eyes looked at Harry with gratitude, quickly becoming confused. Finally, the elf turned to look at the steward elf.

“Master, Nyal feels Master Harry has a bond with an elf,” Elkley spoke up.

“Harry, have you bonded with an elf before?” Sirius asked curiously.

“No, not that I am aware of,” Harry was confused, and then he thought of Dobby. “There is a house-elf I helped free from Malfoy Snr.”

“Can you call him?” Harry nodded.

“Dobby!” with a loud crack Dobby appeared before him. He was wearing a child’s Christmas jumper and what appeared to be rugby shorts. He had a pair of colourful socks on his feet under some child-sized wellies.

“You is a bad elf!” Nyal burst out, then promptly covered his mouth. Dobby looked between the other elves and the two humans.

“He has bonded with you, Master Harry,” Elkley told them.

“I is sorry, Master Harry, but you has strong magic,” Harry looked at Sirius.

“If a house-elf is freed, their magic begins to dwindle because they are symbiotic with wizards or witches,” Sirius explained.

“Then why is Dobby alive?”

“Well, he had the bond with you, but working at Hogwarts probably helped.” Sirius looked down at the elf, “you will join the Black Household, serving as Harry’s Personal Elf. Nyal will assist you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” His big eyes filled with tears of happiness. Sirius shook his head as Dobby learned his duties from the steward-elf. The man started leading Harry from the kitchen, past the study, drawing room and library, to one of the two towers. Besides Harry’s room, Sirius’ Master Suite and Remus’s room, there was a Children’s suite that included a nursery, playroom, and children’s bedroom. In the other tower were six other rooms divided between the three floors.

 

Finally, he led them back to the ‘Duke’s Study’ as he named it; it held a large desk with a comfortable leather chair opposite a large fireplace. Above the fireplace was a stern-looking man in a large painting.

“Who is this?” the painting snapped.

“This is my godson, Harry,” Sirius introduced the teen to the painting.

“You look like you have Black blood. Is the boy related to you?”

“No, Arcturus, but his grandmother was a Black,” Padfoot answered, “Harry, this is my grandfather, Arcturus III,”

“Pleased to meet you,” Harry spoke politely as Sirius ignored the portrait. He placed his hand on the fireplace. A hidden door popped open, allowing the man to reach in to withdraw a large book.

“This is the Wardbook. The most recent pages allow those on it entry through the Wards, be it Floo, apparition or through the front gates,” He laid the book on the table, allowing Harry to see it. Each page had finely ruled columns with titles such as family, friend, and one-time entry (with a date and time). On the most recent pages, he saw the latest Blacks were scratched out of the family except for Andromeda Tonks, Edward Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks, and Remus Lupin. He noticed Dumbledore had been scratched off viciously.

“Have you fallen out with Dumbledore?” Harry asked, looking at his godfather.

“Let’s just say I’m learning a few truths about the Old Goat that makes him look less favourable,” Sirius eventually spoke before closing the Wardbook and hiding it away again. Harry said goodbye to the portrait and followed Sirius toward a vast library, where Remus was sitting in front of a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the grounds. Harry and Sirius took a seat next to the old werewolf.

“So, what do you think?” Remus asked.

“It’s fantastic!”

“So, I bet you have many questions, don’t you?”

“Yeah, so many, but I’ll start with; How did you get here? The last time I spoke to you, you hated your family.”

“I dislike my family, but I am still very loyal to the Black name,” Sirius pointed out, “After I spoke to you at Hogwarts, I returned to Grimmauld Place, where I had been staying with Buckbeak. However, when I returned, there was a letter for me.”

 

Sirius now handed over a piece of parchment, allowing Harry to look at it in surprise. Cyrus Greengrass wrote it. I wonder if he’s related to Daphne Greengrass, Harry wondered.

 

Your Grace, (He filed that away for later)

 

“What do you think he wants? There’s a girl called Daphne Greengrass in my year at school.”

“That’s his eldest daughter. The Greengrass’s have been typically neutral, but it is one of the six Ancient and Noble houses that greatly influence the Wizengamot.”

“About that, what the hell are the Ancient and Noble Houses, and why are you a Duke?” Harry asked.

“That’s a long one, but the short version is before the Magical community split with the muggles, the Wizengamot was made up of the Wizard Council, which at the time was made up of most Nobles; they were tiered. The eldest was the Ancient and Noble Houses, then the Ancient Houses, then the Noble Houses, and finally the lowest Houses were the Greater houses, but they weren’t on the Wizengamot,” Remus explained, taking over from Sirius, “The Head of the houses were Titled from Duke at the highest to Baronet at the lowest,”

“The Blacks are one of the oldest families. We have run or helped Britain for thousands of years, though it has degenerated over the last hundred years. I plan to bring the House of Black to its former glory,” Sirius promised.

“So why do I need protecting?” Harry asked, seeing Remus and Sirius sharing a look between them.

“Go on,” Sirius nudged his friend. Remus got up, walking over to a table with several newspapers. He bought them back over, throwing them on the table in front of the teen. Harry picked up the first, his eyes widening at the headlines

 

POTTER: A LIAR OR ATTENTION SEEKING

DUMBLEDORE’S LOST THE PLOT: SAYS YOU-KNOW-WHO HAS RETURNED

POTTER IS MENTAL

 

The headlines on all the papers continued as he read article after article condemning himself or Dumbledore as a Liar and deranged. Sometimes they were portrayed as mental and needing to be locked up in St Mungo’s or attention-seeking. One suggests Harry’s fame was waning from his battle with Voldemort when he was a baby, so he needed something to make him famous again. He just stared unbelievingly at the Daily Prophet papers.

“They are trying to paint you as a liar or mentally deranged,” Remus pointed out helpfully.

“So, this Greengrass man thinks if you were to become my guardian, that might get the pure-bloods to back off despite my parentage,” Harry suggested.

“That was our reasoning as well,” Sirius concluded. Harry just looked at the man, almost analysing him.

“You’re different, more mature, especially after the last time I spoke to you,” Harry suggested.

“I’ve been seeing a Mind Healer for the last three weeks, I’m not ever going to be the same man I was before I went into Azkaban, but I am well on my way to recovery thanks to the Healer, taking up the Black Mantle and Remus’ help.”

“Look, Harry, many changes are going on in the wizarding world, especially in the last week. Since Voldemort’s return three weeks ago, there have been some pushes in the Wizengamot and Ministry for reforms in regard to Muggle-borns,” Remus pointed to an article from the previous Tuesday about a Wizengamot session, where Lady Zabini petitioned the governing body to begin a Muggle-born registry.

“We think this is part of Voldemort’s play, to make sure pure-bloods are at the top of the pile, then once he’s gained their favour, he’ll start moving in on the Muggles,” Sirius continued.

“I am not sure what’s going to happen, but we think there will be a lot of anti-Muggle-born sentiment out there. Hogwarts is going to be the hardest hit,” Remus added, “A lot of the children are going to be harsher than adults, especially if they follow in their parent’s footsteps,”

“Hermione!” Harry looked at the pair, startled, “We need to protect her and her family,”

“We do. I was considering bringing Hermione here,” Sirius said with a slight grin. Now pacing up and down, Harry never saw the knowing smile between the two old friends.

“What about Dumbledore? Will he interfere?” Harry asked the pair.

“What do you mean?” Remus asked curiously, wondering about the sudden change of subject.

“Some things are beginning to make a bit more sense now. This last week before you picked me up, I was thinking a lot about everything, then to discover someone blocked my magic and charmed me,” Harry responded carefully, “I am starting to wonder if everything in my life has been orchestrated. Was I supposed to meet Hermione? Is Ron Weasley my friend, especially after the charms and potions you discovered,” 

“Dumbledore is a master manipulator!” Sirius snorted.

“Sirius, we have talked about this. There must be a reason those charms were on you,” Remus replied patiently. It seems this was an ongoing argument between the pair.

“Where does your loyalty lie? To me and the Pup or Dumbledore, because I have a feeling things will get worse before they get better,” Sirius laid the ultimatum on the table. Harry stared at him in shock

“My loyalty will always be to the Pup here. Once a pack, always a pack,” Remus looked at his best friend as though he had stunned him.

“Back up. What the hell is going on?” Harry asked.

“Back when I escaped from Hogwarts, I first went to Grimmauld Place and considered hiring a lawyer. I was going to approach Gringotts as I had a summons about my Grandfather’s Will waiting for me,” Sirius explained, looking into the distance, “But just as I was about to leave, Dumbledore showed up. Suddenly I had forgotten that I was going to Gringotts and had the bright idea to travel abroad.”

“It was to keep you safe,” Remus argued.

“He used a Confundus charm on you?” Harry asked.

“That’s what I suspect.”

“At the moment, Dumbledore thinks Sirius is at Grimmauld Place sulking in his room. The Weasley are there with Hermione and som-“ Harry cut him off.

“Hermione’s at Grimmauld Place?” He questioned, “Why?”

“Dumbledore told the Order it was to keep Hermione safe,” Remus told the boy. Sirius was still brooding.

“Sirius, what happened at Gringotts?”