Chapter Text
Having Hermione around without Ron was a little strange, but it turned out that she was a very different person away from school. While she still spent most of her time reading, she was generally happy to settle on the couch or outside on the patio and read interesting bits out loud to Sirius and Harry. She also knew her way around muggle London much better than him and had a more thorough idea of what to do there, although Harry had the impression she was no more used to being allowed to roam around unattended than he was.
The days passed quickly. On the morning Ron was due to arrive, a knock came on the door hours before his expected arrival.
"That can't be them," Hermione said, looking towards the front door. "Ron's never been this early to anything in his life."
"I'll check," Sirius said, rising. "You two go ahead and stay here."
Harry didn't miss that he checked his wand before going. He and Hermione exchanged glances. They got up as soon as Sirius left the room, heading through the side door into the living room instead of following Sirius into the hall.
The door from the living room into the hall by the door was open a crack. Harry and Hermione arranged themselves so that they could see the doorway without being easily visible. Harry wished his invisibility cloak was with him, instead of upstairs; Sirius was standing between them and the steps.
Sirius glanced out through the spyhole, cursed, and put his wand in his sleeve before opening the door, to reveal--
A woman Harry had never seen before. She was tall and pale, with nearly white blond hair and icy blue eyes; but something in her face reminded him of Sirius. This must be Sirius' cousin, Draco Malfoy's mother.
"Sirius," she said at once. "I'm so glad to see you."
"Narcissa?" Sirius said, and stared for a moment. Harry wondered if Sirius would tell her to leave; but instead he was holding out his arms. Narcissa stepped through the doorway unhesitatingly to throw herself into them.
"You look so well," Narcissa said, kissing his cheeks. "I thought after Azkaban - well, no matter now. Very impressive wards you have up here. Dumbledore allows you to cast that sort of thing around Harry Potter?"
Harry felt Hermione vibrate with curiosity next to him.
"I'm not in the habit of asking Dumbledore for permission to cast magic in my own home," Sirius said dryly, kissing her cheeks in return. Narcissa did not let go of him but wound her arm around his waist instead, retreating perhaps half a step. Close together, the familial resemblance was obvious. If Harry squinted and looked past their hair, they had the same lines in their jaws and cheeks, and they were both tall, although Narcissa was built a little more delicately than Sirius.
"Oh, good, I'd wondered," Narcissa said, tone implying dire things about Albus Dumbledore "Really, Sirius - barely a month cleared and you already have custody of Harry Potter!"
"Well, I am named as guardian in his parents' wills," Sirius said, and then, "Narcissa. Does Lucius know you're here?"
Narcissa stiffened like an angry cat. "Does it matter?" she said.
Sirius sighed and stroked a hand down her cheek. It was an oddly intimate gesture from a cousin, and Harry felt as though they were watching something much more private than a greeting in an open doorway. He tucked her hair behind her ear, and said gently, "Cissy, it matters a great deal to me whether Lucius knows you're trying to get access to a home where my godson lives."
Narcissa's teeth clicked together angrily, but she didn't pull away from Sirius. "Are you accusing me of something?"
"Of course not. You were cleared of all charges, weren't you? Both of you. I suppose you didn't notice anything when he was," He paused pointedly, "Enchanted."
Narcissa was silent for a time. Then she said, "I will speak frankly. My husband made a serious miscalculation on the subject, and Bellatrix... You know how badly her judgment was compromised - how badly he damaged her - as well as I do. And if the Dark Lord should return, they will want Draco. If I was angry with the Dark Lord for taking my sister, it is nothing to how unwilling I am to give my son to him. I believe, for now, we are safe. But should he return..."
Harry could not believe that Sirius would take this declaration at face value. Sirius, fortunately, appeared skeptical. "We have a guest in the house," he said, after a moment.
Hermione twitched.
"I would be happy to meet any friends of your family of course," Narcissa said, poised.
Hermione choked and made a noise like an angry cat, muffling her mouth into Harry's shoulder. Narcissa glanced in the direction of the living room, but didn't seem to notice anything seriously amiss.
"I'm sure," Sirius said. "You may have heard of her from your son, as she's been top of every class in their year. Hermione Granger?"
Narcissa's face contorted as though she smelled something bad. "I see you really haven't forgotten your ideals, Sirius. Really, it's not enough to be polite to that sort of thing in public, you have to invite it into your house as well?"
Sirius smiled grimly. "Get out of my house, Cissy," he said.
"Sirius!" Narcissa finally jerked out of his arms and stared at him, then laughed, as though he had made a not particularly funny joke. "Oh, very well, I've been rude--"
"Narcissa," Sirius said flatly. "You've insulted a guest in my house, and you've done it on the grounds of your objection to my politics as head. If you want to ask me for favors, you'd better do it another day. Get out."
Narcissa stared wildly, and Harry thought for a moment she might cry, or slap Sirius. Then she said, "And you have turned away your kinswoman for a stranger. I see you are not recovered from Azkaban yet. I will call on you when you are well." Then she turned on her heel and stalked out.
Sirius watched the door shut, and raised his wand almost lazily to lock it behind her. Then he turned to the living room door. "You can come out now," he said.
Sheepishly, Harry and Hermione straightened, unpiled themselves and opened the door.
"I'm sorry you had to listen to her speak about you that way," Sirius said to Hermione. "I perhaps shouldn't have used you as a test..."
"No, you shouldn't have," Hermione said unhappily, "But I see why you did. Did she - do you think she meant what she said about You-Know-Who?"
Sirius shook his head slowly. "I don't know, and short of asking her to Vow or submit to Veritaserum, which she would be unlikely to agree to in any case, I don't see any way of finding out. Narcissa is...
"Well, children of the great Houses tend to be close, growing up, they're generally raised communally, and parents of that class are neglectful at best and violent at worst. I didn't have any allies as a child except my cousins and my little brother. I'm not surprised she'd come here, given that - her marriage was known to be unhappy in the seventies, and that was before her husband came down on the losing side of a war. But when we grow up and take our own sides..." He shook his head.
"Enough. She is what she is, now." Sirius smiled sadly at Hermione.
"So that was Malfoy's mum?" Harry said awkwardly, when Sirius did not seem likely to continue.
"Yes." Sirius started back towards the kitchen. "Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black. Well, if there's one good thing, I've been meaning to write her sister Andromeda - she's the other runaway Black in my generation. Narcissa coming reminded me. Shall I make some tea for us all, and then I'll start?"
"What did Andromeda do?" Hermione asked as they followed Sirius back to the kitchen. "I mean, when she ran away?"
"Andromeda eloped," Sirius said. "And broke a betrothal to Walden Macnair that her parents had made when she was fourteen. She told them she was staying at school and married Ted Tonks over Easter break, seventh year, to avoid it. It was the scandal of a generation, she outshone me running away to the Potters seven years later by half again. I think I'll ask them around for tea next weekend, it'll be good to have some company with you lot gone. I've been wanting to meet her daughter, she's a few years older than you lot."
Hermione was still rather subdued a few hours later when Ron was due to arrive. Harry eventually resorted to getting out the summer homework he had completed at the Dursleys and asking her about some of the trickier questions to cheer her up. Explaining things to him was a favorite occupation of hers when he had actually done the work ahead of time, and she looked a little happier by the time the next knock at the door came.
"Let me get it, just in case Narcissa's back," Sirius said, rising. "I don't seriously expect she'd send any of Lucius's associates around but there's always an outside chance..." They heard the door open, and he said, "Ah, it's good to see you! Harry and Hermione are in the kitchen...."
Ron came pounding up the hall, trailed by Sirius and Mrs. Weasley. He stopped short seeing Hermione's face. "What happened?" he said. "What'd you do to her, mate?" Then, seeing the textbooks out, "You can't have done that badly on McGonagall's essay?"
"Not me," Harry muttered.
"Sirius's cousin came to call," Hermione said, lips taut. "He threw her out after she questioned why he let 'that,'" her voice thickened with disgust as she gestured to herself, "Into the house."
"Sirius is cousins with Malfoy's mum," Harry said, to the gaping Ron. "She just showed up..."
"The Malfoys have a habit of doing that," Sirius said, pulling out a chair for Mrs. Weasley and going to pour them all drinks. "Normally their galleons smooth it all over. She won't be back again," he said, casting a somewhat anxious glance at Mrs. Weasley.
From what Harry understood, the Weasleys were mortified that Peter Pettigrew, the real murderer of the Potters, had been hiding as their household pet for years. Consequently Ron had reported absolutely no reluctance about allowing him to visit.
"I'm sure she won't be if you threw her out," Mrs. Weasley said. "Oh, I'd have liked to see that - Lucius is always trying to make trouble for Arthur at work, he's thick with Fudge. And Fudge thinks Arthur's too fond of muggles."
"Cornelius Fudge would accuse the paving in front of his house of being overly fond of muggles for letting them walk on it," Sirius said. "Will you stay for some tea, Mrs. Weasley? I picked up some buns at the muggle bakery down the street this morning, they're very good. You might take one home for Arthur, I'm sure he'll get a kick out of it."
"Oh, if I'm really not imposing - please, call me Molly, Mr. Black."
"Then you'll have to call me Sirius," Sirius said, taking out the bakery bag. "You too, Ron. Don't feel you have to sit here and entertain us if you'd rather go catch up--"
"Let me show you the house," Harry said, getting up on cue and hurriedly gathering his school books.
He did actually show Ron the living room and dining room quickly before taking them upstairs and pointing out the empty guest rooms in the attic. Ron dumped his bags on the bed, then trailed them into the guest room Hermione had taken over, where she was curling up in the window seat, still looking miserable.
"I'm sorry, it's been hours," she said, "I just keep thinking about it--"
"It's okay, Hermione, we understand," Harry said, sitting next to her as Ron took her other side.
"We can punch Malfoy in the nose for it when we're back in school," Ron said.
"Don't, you'll get into trouble!" Hermione said. "And anyway it was his mother who said it, not him."
"He obviously got it from her," Harry said. "What'd you think of the rest of the conversation?" Sirius had been hovering for much of the afternoon, impeding their ability to discuss it.
As he had expected, Hermione went from upset to thoughtful. "Well, I'm looking forward to meeting Andromeda, of course," she said. "It's interesting what she said about - Bellatrix and You-Know-Who, isn't it? And about the children in their family?"
"How's it interesting that the Blacks were horrible?" Harry asked.
"Well, culturally speaking--"
"Sorry," Ron said, "But could I get some background here?"
They rapidly filled Ron in on the conversation they had overheard earlier, and on what they had learned about Sirius' family.
"His cousin was fourteen?" Ron said. "Seriously? That's sick, that's only a year older than Ginny is."
"Her age is the only part of that that sticks out to you?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"Well," Ron said, looking uncomfortable, "I mean, it's something families like that do, isn't it? Not us," he said hastily, seeing the looks on both of their faces, "You've heard how they talk about us, Weasleys are all blood traitors, right? And Dad hasn't - hasn't got any money, he's the younger son of a younger son, so it's not like they can afford to pay for all of us to marry.
"Anyway it's a lot less common now because half of the old families are dead on our side, and in Azkaban now on theirs, or they couldn't find matches because everyone knew they were Death Eaters. I've heard my parents talking about it, Dad's really angry every time it comes up because everyone in Britain can know so-and-so's a Death Eater to the point where his kids can't get married but nobody can get a warrant for his arrest."
They had only a few days at Sirius' house before the World Cup, after which Sirius would go home and Harry, Ron and Hermione would stay with the Weasleys until term began.
Harry found that, as much as he looked forward to the Burrow and the World Cup, he wished the summer would pass more slowly for the first time. He had spent only a few brief, wonderful weeks with Sirius.
He knew he would be going home again for Christmas, but it was difficult to really count on anything so distant. Knowing Dumbledore was opposed to him living with Sirius only made the feeling that this could not be real and certainly would not last more solid. Perhaps something would happen to Sirius during the first term, or Dumbledore would announce that it was all for Harry's own good and pack him back off to the Dursleys... For whatever Sirius said, Harry found it hard to believe he could really oppose Dumbledore for long and get his way with the Ministry.
The Cup would occur that Thursday. They were due to take a portkey very early in the morning from the Burrow, and for this reason they would all spend Wednesday night with the Weasleys. That morning, as Hermione and Ron got into their second brutal argument about how much of Ron's summer homework wasn't done at the breakfast table, Sirius said, "Can I have a word with you, Harry?" quietly.
A little relieved to be excused from the fight, as Hermione kept pointing out that Harry had finished all of his already, just like her, Harry got up and followed Sirius outside. They sat down at the small table in the garden.
"What is it?" Harry said, glancing back at the house and wincing as a particularly high pitched shriek of Hermione's came through the wall.
Sirius laughed softly. "Quite some lungs she has," he said. "There are a couple of things I wanted to tell you in private, Harry, before you leave for the Burrow. Feeling up to a serious conversation this early?"
Harry had never before been able to wake up late so many days in a row, and he was still half-used to the Dursleys' mandatory early morning chores. "This is fine," he said, quietly. "What is it?"
"Well, Harry..." Sirius hesitated. "It's been strongly suggested to me that I shouldn't discuss this with you, and I admit I wasn't entirely sure, when you came to stay with me. I'd already sprung so many changes on you at once."
"Suggested by who?" Harry said, bolting upright. "Dumbledore?"
"Among others," Sirius said. He would not meet Harry's eye, instead looking out over the flowers in their next door neighbor's garden. "I do want to give you a choice about hearing it, Harry. Sometimes, it can be... isolating to know certain things, that have to be kept secret. It can make it hard to interact with other people your age, or connect to them, and...
"I don't want you to have to take on the war at this age. Fate has - thrust adulthood on you young, between what happened to your parents and your aunt's behavior. I was similar, and - enough, I'm meandering. Do you want to hear the rest of the story?"
"It's about the war," Harry said, carefully, "And - is it about my parents? Why he came after them?"
"It is," Sirius said.
"And I'd have to keep it a secret. Can I tell Ron and Hermione?"
Sirius hesitated for a moment, then said, "They've kept so many other secrets I can't imagine this one would be worse. Yes, you can, but be careful where you discuss it amongst yourselves, make sure no one overhears."
"Alright," Harry said. "Then I want to hear it."
"Alright," Sirius said, and straightening, "I'm proud of you, Harry, alright? For this, and for - everything you've done." His voice cracked. "Everything you've already had to do at your age."
Harry looked down, feeling an odd stinging in his eyes and throat. He swallowed hard. "Thanks, Sirius," he whispered.
"I'll start, then." Sirius cleared his throat. "Voldemort came looking for James and Lily - and you - for a reason, Harry, and it wasn't just that they were his enemies. Although that would've been enough."
"And this is why?" Harry said, feeling at once like he might be ill and grimly excited. This, then, was the answer to a question he hadn't even realized he had: why he was an orphan, why his parents had died, why Voldemort had been so interested in him. Sirius, it seemed, was prepared to offer him answers.
"Yes," Sirius said. "There was a prophecy before your birth, Harry, one about Voldemort and the one who would defeat him. I don't know the whole thing. I believe Lily and James did, but they only told us a few of the details. This is what I know: the prophecy said that a boy would be born in July, to parents who had defied Voldemort three times and survived; and he would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord."
"And - and that meant me," Harry said, slowly, fighting to keep himself calm. He had not expected anything like this. If he had thought of it, he had thought of some grudge, some work his parents might have been involved in. He had never expected that his parents had been killed because of him, simply because they had been between him and Voldemort...
Though it should have. He had heard their last words, particularly his mother's, near the Dementors.
Sirius's hand came down on Harry's shoulder. Harry flinched before he realized Sirius was only squeezing it. Sadness flashed across Sirius' face, and then he suppressed it. "Voldemort believed so," he said. "And if my understanding of prophecy is correct - and I admit it's a complicated subject which few people understand well - by acting as though it must be you, he guaranteed it. Much of the power of prophecy comes from the courses of action people take in the wake of the actual prediction."
"But there were other candidates?" Harry said, uncertain whether it was hope he felt or not. He certainly wasn't particularly talented, though perhaps at Defense...
"One," Sirius said. "He's in your year at Hogwarts, of course, so you'll have met him. Neville Longbottom was also born in July, and his parents fit the criteria."