Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or anything associated with it. The Harry Potter franchise belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am doing this purely for my own amusement and at no profit.
Chapter 5- Of Dogs and Godfathers
Harry briskly exited the Robust Newt some ninety minutes later, his long brown robes swishing with each step. Diagon Alley was overflowing with wizards and witches attempting to do last minute school shopping. While the large mass of people aided his attempt at anonymity, the screeching, whining brats invading the place did nothing for his temper. Harry bit back a curse as a red-faced toddler slammed into the back of his knees. He plastered on mildly pleasant expression and smiled at the harried looking mother chasing after the screaming child. His face contorted in annoyance as soon as she waddled away.
Fuck, he hated children with a passion. Far too noisy and they leeched at your moneybags like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara. Harry scanned the bustling street for a secluded place to remove the charms he had placed on himself. Sharp eyes spied a hidden nook near the entrance to a drab, shadowed street. He flicked his eyes up to the rickety sign proclaiming the street name in peeling letters. Knockturn Alley. Huh. Now that looked like his kind of place. He reluctantly pulled his gaze away from it. It would be unusual at the least to see the plain, kindly man he was currently masquerading as to take a stroll down that street, calm as you please.
"Later…" Harry muttered under his breath as he took a sharp turn and bypassed the alley completely. He swiftly weaved through the throng of people like a snake though water. A particularly pompous, rat faced boy with platinum blond hair was throwing a temper tantrum near a store called Quality Quiddich Supplies. He winced in sympathy for the storeowner who wore a mask of forced pleasantry and patience.
"I'm very sorry Mr. Malfoy, but as I told you before we've run out of—" The man explained lowly, obviously trying not to cause a scene.
"Well then get some more. I don't know what kind of place you're running but when my father finds out--- " The pointy faced kid interrupted arrogantly. He was the epitome of a spoiled child. He probably never had to work for anything in his life, Harry thought with disgust.
Unable to resist, Harry deftly twisted his way closer and bumped past the ugly brat. Harry snatched the rather large velvet bag of gold hanging on the boy's hip with a quick practiced maneuver. The boy remained blissfully oblivious. Shoving the bag into the deep pockets of his shabby robes, he stifled a grin and backtracked toward the shadowed corner he had seen earlier. Really the kid had practically been begging to be pick pocketed. What kind of idiot announces he's loaded with gold in the middle of a busy street? It was times like this Harry was extremely grateful he never went to Hogwarts. He had zero tolerance for stupidity and naiveté. He probably would have cursed the unsuspecting idiots the first day.
Harry casually leaned against a clothing shop called Twilfit and Tattings. As soon as a crowd passed him, he slipped unnoticed behind the building. He scrunched his nose up in disgust. The alley reeked of piss and sewage. The small shop probably couldn't afford a permit to install those nifty garbage disposal crates and self-sanitary charms. It was most likely only in its first year of business he thought idly. Harry ducked behind a pile of musty wooden boxes. He shoved his fingers under the collar of his shirt to pull out a simple necklace with a red bead about the size of a marble. He tugged it roughly over his head, wincing slightly when it caught on his nose.
"Son of a bitch!" he huffed in irritation while rubbing his sore nose. He threw the necklace a sour look.
With a twist of his wrist, Harry's wand fell into his hand and he then proceeded to murmur several long incantations in multiple languages. His words were often punctuated with subtle flicks and swirls of his wand. Slowly the dull brown hair lengthened and bled away to dark ebony. Unobtrusive features shifted and melted into a dark masculine beauty. He grunted in pain as his bones shifted and elongated. Sharp spikes racked through him until they slowly stuttered to a stop. Panting, Harry forced his weary muscles to move and pulled himself up. His joints cracked loudly and he had a cramp in his legs. He stumbled forward but luckily managed to catch himself. His center of balance was seriously off. It was times like this that he really wished he were a metamorphmagus. Damn them and their stupid self-transfiguration, he thought sulkily. Most of the more unsavory transfiguration spells and charms were far more effective but they hurt like a bitch and could only be held for so long before they had to be renewed.
With a careless flick of his wand the brown robes grew to fit his new height and darkened to black. He rolled his shoulders to get the stiffness out and turned around to face the exit. Tugging the large hood over his head and silently casting a charm to obscure his face, Harry slipped out of the dank alley. With a calculating survey of the rowdy witches and wizards, Harry entered Knockturn Alley.
Knockturn Alley could and would never be considered for Witch Weekly's Most Pristine Shopping Center to say the least. The air was heavy with the scent of rot and shifty looking characters shuffled from store to store. Most of the shops looked to be in poor condition at best. Faded letters marked the shops' names and most seemed to suffer from decade old paint peeling off the walls like a snake sheds its skin.
The deeper in he wandered the shops grew more bold and the people more comfortable. They obviously had less to fear being farther away from the patrolling Aurors roaming Diagon Alley. In a shadowy corner he saw a woman with hawkish features and hard black eyes. Her filthy robes were hiked up around her hips and long skinny legs clung around a sweaty walrus like man. She flashed her rotten teeth at him in what he supposed she thought was a seductive look. His lip curled up in revulsion at her antics but wasn't much bothered about the obscene display. After all once you have had the misfortune to walk in on two hags going at it like dogs in heat everything else seemed pretty tame. He cringed at the memory and tried in vain to banish it from his mind.
Shrewd green eyes scanned the winding road for anything of interest. He strolled by the shop windows amusing himself with the various odd objects for sale. Now where was that place Marie had mentioned? He tilted his head up to read the shop names. Borgins and Burkes. Apothecary. Blue Moon. Ah there it was, he thought with relief. For a second there he had thought he misread the directions. It was on unassuming building much like all the other shops on the street. Deep cracks ran up the sides of the stone building and the windows were caked with so much grime it made it impossible to see inside. He curled his fingers over the dull brass doorknob and pushed the battered door open.
The sweet intoxicating scent of herbs and spices hit his sensitive nose. The interior was substantially better than the outside. Lanterns cast the room in a warm glow and people chatted merrily with each other. The tense lines eased from their faces as they allowed themselves to relax in a familiar environment. At his entrance their heads jerked up, nostrils flared. Bodies tensed in preparation to defend or attack. But behind the fierce expressions he could see the fear that lurked in the depths of their eyes.
He chuckled derisively, observing their pathetic attempt to defend their territory. If he truly wished to he could have had them all smeared across the floor in a gory splatter. Unfazed, he boldly walked up to the bar with the smooth gait of a prowling wolf. His hood cast his face into the darkness. And the very shadows pulled lovingly on the hem of his cloak. He slammed he palms down on the bar with enough force to rattle it.
"Bartender." He snarled harshly at the amber-eyed man. The frail looking man flinched back slightly at his tone. "I'm looking for one of your brethren. Perhaps you can aid me…?" The man's fear rolled off him in heady waves. The other dogs were still crouched down as if to attack. Their emaciated bodies trembled almost unnoticeably, their eyes wide and feral. They hadn't moved an inch. He sneered. Weak cowards, the lot of them.
"I-I- what are y-you doing here, Wizard? We don't want your kind here." The sickly werewolf managed to force out with false bravado. His bony hands were clenched on the bar with a white knuckled grip.
"I don't give a damn what you lot do or don't want, you insipid fool." He said dangerously, his dark green eyes glinting in anger. He slid his hand casually into his robes and pulled out a curved sliver blade. He brushed his fingers down the blade absentmindedly. In a smooth gesture, Harry thrust the dagger at the man's pale throat. The point came to stop mere centimeters from the shivering man's jugular.
"Just answer me this, sir: Does Fenrir Greyback come here often?" He questioned silkily thoroughly enjoying the man's fine tremors of pure terror as he eyed the silver knife.
"Sometimes." The werewolf gasped, sweat beading on his forehead. Harry flicked his wrist sharply and a plain envelope materialized in his hands.
"Good. Good. The next time you see dear Fernir I want you to give him this." Harry said briskly, slapping the envelope on the bar counter. "Do not open it."
"And trust me, I'll know if you open it." And with that last threat he exited the Blue Moon, the dusty door slammed shut behind him with a deafening bang.
"Well, that went surprisingly well." Harry thought with satisfaction. He was still riding on the power high he received from the encounter. Power thrummed gently just beneath the surface of his skin. Surges of electricity skidded up and down his spine pleasurably. He relished in the wary stares he was gaining from the occupants on the street. They were right to fear him.
Tugging the heavy cloak around him more tightly, Harry increased his pace. The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in purple and red smudges. The evening air had lost the humid heaviness it had in the afternoon replacing it with a cool chill breeze. Harry blinked in mild confusion at the weather change. He had assumed it would be hotter at this time of the year in Britain. Strange weather aside, everything was going pretty damn smoothly is he did say so himself. Nobody had yet to point an accusing finger at him and yowl "Hey! It's the Boy-Who-Lived back from the dead, bitches! Let's worship him and all his divine glory!"
So far everything had gone to plan. It had helped that few, if any believed him to be alive after the article published in the Daily Prophet several years ago. It had announced that Harry Potter's meager remains had been discovered washed up on the coast of Ireland. Wasn't Necromancy grand? It had taken him ages to find someone willing to teach him the art but it was worth it. Very few announced that they practiced any form of the Dark Arts these days. It was a pity; it made things much more difficult for him. Oh well, he thought sardonically, just have to up the paranoia. Better safe than sorry. With that thought he headed deeper into the alley. It would be suspicious to go wandering into Diagon Alley this late; he would have to take the back exit Marie told him about.
Harry's back stiffened and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. His magic flared up in preparation to defend or attack. Somebody was following him. He showed no indication of noticing his pursuer except for a slight falter in his step. Fury bubbled deep in his chest, he shoved in down roughly. It wouldn't do for his anger to cloud his judgment. Subtly, he glanced out of the corner of his eyes. Sharp viridian eyes quickly assessed the surroundings. There were only three exits that he knew of and all of them were a fair distance away. Anti-Apparition wards hung heavily in then air so that escape route was out. Suddenly an idea struck him and a bloodthirsty smile spread across his face.
Keeping his casual pace, Harry slid in through the gap between the Potions shop and wand shop. The cobble road tapered off to a winding dirt path that snaked between the backs of the buildings. He stood in plain view with his back turned. To the casual observer it looked as if he was merely reading the crooked street sign. Boxes fell over noisily as his pursuer fumbled after him. Amateurs…that was kind of insulting now that he thought of it. This person obviously had no concept of stealth and they expected to get the drop on him? What did they take him for a novice or something? Anticipation curled low in is stomach. Closer…closer…
In an inhumanly fast movement, Harry spun around and fell into his favored dueling position with feline grace. A brutal Flesh Rotting curse was on the tip of his tongue. Only to come face to face with a rather skeletal black dog. The dog yelped at his actions and stumbled over its paws. It fell in an ungraceful heap at Harry's feet staring at him with wide dark blue eyes.
"What the fuck?" Harry questioned in sheer disbelief. Maybe Marie was right about his paranoia. He made a mental note never to tell her about it. She'd mock him for decades if she ever found out he thought some stray dog was plotting his murder.
Cautiously, Harry crouched down next to the animal. It was staring at him intently, almost if it was trying to memorize his every feature. Suspicion wormed in his mind eliminating any sense of ease he previously had. The animal's eyes were almost too human like to be just a stray dog. He slid his fingers through the coarse fur at the scruff of its neck. The dog thumped its tail happily; unaware of the wand Harry clutched behind his back. In a flash, Harry ruthlessly tightened his grip on the tuft of fur in his hand and shoved the tip of his wand under the dog's muzzle. Dark blue eyes widened in pain and horror.
"Animagus Reverto" Harry intoned quietly. There was a bight flash of light surrounding the dog. The animal twisted and curled on to itself as the spell took effect. Dark shaggy fur receded and limbs lengthened. Slowly the form of a thin man took shape. Black hair fell to his shoulders and he looked as if he hadn't had a decent meal in a while. The man sat slumped on the wet ground panting.
"Owww…" he groaned sliding a hand through his hair. "You could have just asked. There's no need to be mean."
"Who the hell are you?" Harry snapped, his wand still pointed unwaveringly at the stranger's heart. He was still kind of miffed somebody had the audacity to try and track him down. A broad grin formed on the gaunt man's face. He didn't seem the least bothered that a wand was being pointed accusingly at him.
"I'm Sirius Black." He proclaimed confidently. His eyes were hungrily drinking in the young man standing before him.
"Sirius Black…I've heard that name somewhere." Harry's brows furrowed slightly. He took in Black's thin frame and haunted eyes hidden behind the mischief. There was something distinctly familiar about him but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what. He stifled a growl of frustration.
"Yeah! Lots of people have heard of me. I'd be damn surprised if you never had heard my name." Black replied somewhat arrogantly. "I'm famous." He grinned but there was a touch of bitterness lining his words. He looked down at the wand pointed at him as if he just noticed it. Perhaps he had. Sirius blinked in surprise.
"Kinda trigger happy aren't you?" Sirius asked arching an eyebrow. He still had a drunkenly happy grin plastered on his face. "I'm not going to attack you, you know. I promise."
" Not going to pull a fast one on me, huh?" Harry said candidly. "What do you take me for? Stupid?" The tip of his wand began to glow with a dark violet light. The man's eyes widened fearfully.
"Now wait! Wait! I swear! I'm not trying to off you or something---I can explain!" Black exclaimed with a tinge of panic. His arms flailed comically as if to ward off the spell.
"You've got two minutes, mate." Harry gave a canine smile at the man's antics. "If you give me a satisfactory explanation I'll consider letting you go in one piece."
"I'm you're godfather!" Sirius blurted out. " I caught your scent at the restaurant. And-and I recognized it so I decided to follow you. I just wanted to see if it was really you. And maybe t-talk to you. That's all I swear on my magic!"
Shock filtered through the dark haze that only Black magic could bring. He had a godfather? Slowly the fog cleared from his bloodlust filled mind. This could pose a problem, he thought with slight worry. If this man was who he said he was then Sirius Black definitely knew his true name. And if he knew anything about his parents they were Dumbledore's lap dogs through and through. So surely their friends were in deep with Dumbledore too. Suddenly a thought struck him and brought back the white-hot anger with a vengeance. The desire to kill pulsed deep within him.
"…read it in the news paper. It was right next to the chocolate frog ad. Don't you just love those ads? I think the dancing frog one is …" Sirius trailed off when he saw look of utter fury on his godson's face. His face contorted in befuddlement.
"Are you the cock sucking bastard who got me sent to the Dursleys?" Harry snarled viciously. He shoved his wand harshly into the other man's chest. Gold and black sparks flew off the tip and singed the other man's robes. Sirius flinched at his words a look of despair crossing his face.
"Well are you?" Harry barked at him. He sent out a tendril of magic to prod at the other man's mind. Bloody hell, he thought with surprise. The man's mind looked as if it had been trampled over by a herd of hippogriffs.
" You have to understand Harry. I-I wasn't thinking clearly that night." Sirius pleaded. "Merlin…I remember it like it was yesterday. They don't let you forget things like that." A dark emotion swept across Sirius' eyes. A burning lust for revenge. Harry knew the look all to well. He thrust his magic deeper into the oblivious man's mind as he talked.
"…Found James first. Yeah…wasn't a pretty sight. Looked like a dragon had had a party there. Firewhiskey and all." Sirius' voice cracked lightly and he shuffled around uncomfortably, eyes darting around like a trapped dog.
" Then Lily…and oh Merlin I've never wanted to kill somebody so bad. Not even Snivellus…the bastard." He sneered and dug his nails into the soft dirt. Hatred flashed through his eyes.
Harry flicked though Sirius' memories picking out relevant information and discarding the useless. So far Black had stuck to the truth. Apparently he really was his godfather. A dark fortress surrounded in an aura of despair materialized in front of his eyes. The soul shattering screams of the damned echoed through his ears painfully. Azkaban, he thought with a shudder.
"…so everyone thought I was the traitor. They made Peter out to be some sort of martyr and shoved me in a cell for twelve years. I tried to tell them the truth but everyone was so eager to believe the worst of me. Poor, dear little Peter would never betray the Potters they said…hah!"
A short pudgy man swam into view and then a small grey rat scampering down into the sewers. Hatred in its purest form enveloped the older man's mind. A tired man with amber eyes and ratty robes came next. Guilt…bitterness…anger…resentment…
Black didn't seem all to fond of this bloke, Harry mused. He couldn't help being impressed by the man. After all it took balls to break out of Azkaban. Sirius had proven himself to be loyal too and that made up slightly for his impulsiveness.
" So do you believe me?" Sirius asked hopefully. Harry assessed the man shrewdly for several minutes. Sirius fidgeted at the prolonged silence. Harry cocked his head to the side and then answered carefully.
"Yes…I believe you."
Sirius whooped in glee and gave Harry a broad smile. In his excitement he missed the calculating gleam in Harry's eyes.
"So Mr. Black, you have anything to do for the next couple of hours?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with amusement. Sirius was practically vibrating with suppressed energy.
"Call me Sirius." He said brightly. " Mr. Black makes me feel ancient, as in Dumbledore ancient."
"And to answer your question no I don't have anything to do. I am frreeeee" He said in a sing song voice.
"That's nice." Harry said dryly. "So I was thinking if you don't have anything to do we could ah…get to know each other." Despite Sirius' almost sickenly cheerful attitude he could definitely prove to be useful.
"Really? That would be brilliant." Sirius stomped a foot into a nearby puddle splashing dirty water all over the hem of his robes. Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"We'll talk at my flat, it's near by." Harry said absentmindedly gazing up at the darkening sky.
"You have a flat?" Sirius asked incredulously.
"Did I not just say I did?" He drawled. " And before you ask no I don't live with anyone." They walked down the cobbled road until they came upon a stone archway. Balled up newspapers littered the ground and the stone was chipping away with age. Past the arch was a what seemed to be a dead end. Harry grabbed Sirius by the elbow roughly and with a soft pop they disappeared.
They landed in a nicely furnished hall. The walls were painted a warm burgundy and flickering candles lined the walls.
"Ugh…a little warning next time please." Sirius groaned as he pushed himself up from where he had landed in an ungraceful heap.
"Not my fault you're such a pussy." Harry replied flippantly, tossing him a smirk. Sirius glared half heartedly at him. He looked around in interest at the modestly sized place.
"Nice…" Sirius said looking impressed. "But then again that's not much coming from me. You should see my house it's horrid."
Harry gestured at Sirius to follow him into the sitting room. Sirius' eyes widened in pleasure when he spied the squashy brown chairs. He shoved past his godson and flopped into the nearest one sighing.
"Please have a seat…" Harry muttered under his breath sarcastically. He wandered over to the next chair and sat down. Something that had been nudging at the back of his mind came forward.
" Why didn't you capture or kill Pettigrew when you were at Hogwarts?" Harry asked curiously. After all it would have made sense to capture the rat and turn him over to Dumbledore. "Or was this another one of your insane moments where all reason is wiped from your mind?" Harry grinned at Sirius.
"Oh shut up!" Sirius laughed before his face darkened. " I almost had him. He was masquerading as one of the Weasley kid's pet for over a decade."
"Wait a minute, Pettigrew was living in some Wizarding home? With kids? That's kinda perverted if you think about it." Sirius gave a bark like laugh.
"You know now that you mention it is pretty weird. I suppose he had to get his jollies off something though. After all he couldn't just up and transform into a man. He was supposed to be dead."
"Who knows maybe he fucked all those sexy female rats that wandered into the house." Sirius scrunched up his face in disgust and amusement at Harry's remark.
"Gross…Now I have that mental image seared into my brain, thank you very much." Sirius shook his head vigorously as if it would dispel the image.
"Anyway, I managed to lure the Weasley boy to this old shack in Hogsmade, but unfortunately his nosy friend followed and then Remus a while later." He grumbled in annoyance.
"I was all set to peel the flesh from the sniveling traitor's bones. I had the curse and everything!" Sirius whined childishly.
" Then that little snot nosed brat had to ruin it." He glared murderously at the wooden table in front of him. "Oh no! You can't kill him! He's a human being!" Sirius mocked in a high falsetto.
"She threw such a fit I couldn't concentrate. And by the time I got her to shut the hell up good ole' Snape turns up smug as you please. And well, I already told you what happened next."
" Ah well life sucks and then you die." Harry said in mock sympathy, shaking his head. He regarded the other man for a second before coming to a decision. His eyes glowed in dark mischief.
"Hey Sirius, I have an idea…"
Next Chapter: The Life of a Pureblood: In which the Pureblood society is delved into and Daphne Greengrass is not amused.