Harry Potter and the Room of Memories
Harry had only been at the Dursley's for a week when he'd gotten the letters. One had been from Dumbledore, asking if the Headmaster might pick him up in a week (which was today) to take care of some official business. Harry had an idea of what that would be, and honestly he was in no mood to read Sirius's will. His suspicions had been confirmed with the second letter, from Tonks. She would be accompanying them on their business, "For extra protection, just in case," the letter had said.
Harry paced his room, listening intently for the doorbell. He'd long since packed everything, and was left with nothing to do but wait. He couldn't even talk to Hedwig, for she was delivering a letter to Ron. Finally, as his digital clock turned to 12:00, a light went out. Harry ran to the window and watched as, one by one, the street lamps were extinguished.
Two figures were coming up the street. One was tall, the other short. The short one tripped on the hem of her robes, but turned it into a cartwheel.
Harry grinned for the first time in weeks. He picked up Hedwig's cage and set it in the hallway. He took immense pleasure in pushing his trunk down the stairs, waking the whole house. He jumped down the stairs three at a time as the Dursleys emerged from their rooms and the doorbell rang.
"Who the devil is that at the door?" his uncle bellowed. "Potter, what are you doing?"
"Leaving," Harry said. He opened the door and found Tonks trying to pick the lock, and Dumbledore looking amused.
"I told you he'd be waiting for us, Nymphadora," Dumbledore said, allowing her to enter first.
"What's the point of knowing how to pick a lock if I never get to actually do it?" she complained. "Wotcher, Harry."
"Hey Tonks, Professor," he said, nodding at them.
"Say your goodbyes, Harry," Dumbledore told him. "You won't be returning until next summer."
"See you," Harry said, and followed Tonks out to the sidewalk.
"You have your cloak?" she asked.
"Yeah…the letter said—"
"What's he doing back there?" Harry asked. Dumbledore was still standing in the doorway, talking to the Dursleys. They looked quite terrified.
"I think he's having a go at your aunt and uncle. Ah, here he comes."
"Professor," Harry started, "Where are we going exactly?"
"Eventually, to Hogwarts. However, just at the present, we will be calling upon a friend." He led the two of them down the street and took out his Dilluminator. "You see, we once again have a vacancy in the staff. I'm hoping to fill that position."
"Tonight?" Tonks asked, yawning.
"Yes. I think you'll both be of great assistance." He unleashed the light he had collected and held out his arm. "If you'll both just take my arm. That's it."
Harry felt the awful sensation of being squeezed through a very long, thin straw. When he opened his eyes again, they were on a deserted London street. "Eurgh…" he moaned. "I just Apparated, didn't I?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Quite successfully, too. Most people vomit the first time."
"Can't imagine why. Tonks? What is it?"
She was staring back and forth between the buildings and Dumbledore. "You've got to be joking," she said.
"Not in the slightest."
"I thought you said you were going to get Slughorn!"
"He turned out to be rather more stubborn than I thought. In any case, I don't need him specifically to fill the post. I've had to do some rearranging, and this is the last stop on my list."
They walked up the steps to one of the buildings and Dumbledore shot a spell the call button. A moment later, a voice came through the speaker. "Come on up."
"She's American?" Harry asked.
"Extremely," Tonks muttered.
"Best behavior, Tonks."
The apartment looked like any other, except for the large Hogwarts crest that adorned the coffee table. The witch sitting on the couch looked like an older, less athletic version of Angelina Johnson. "When you said you were bringing friends, you didn't tell me they were famous," she said with a smile.
"Yes, well I was afraid you might run out on me, like dear Horace did," Dumbledore answered. "Harry, this is Morgana Williams. Hopefully Professor Williams soon…."
"Nice to meet you," Harry said, shaking her hand.
"And you. Do you really need me to come back, Dumbledore?"
"Indeed. I understand that you're ready to…er…retire, from you American job."
"You can say that again. And how are you, Tonks?" Morgana asked, smirking.
Dumbledore smiled. "Tonks and Morgana were at school together. One year apart, if I remember correctly."
"You were at Hogwarts?"
"Yep. Slytherin. Ah, don't give me that look," she said, grinning. "We're not all evil."
"We'll see you in September, then?" Dumbledore asked.
"Wonderful! We shall leave you to enjoy your evening…er…morning."
Waving at his new professor, Harry followed Dumbledore out of the apartment.
The next day, Harry awoke to sunlight pouring onto his face. It took him a moment to remember that he was at Hogwarts again. As he sat up in bed, a hazy wolf floated down next to him.
"Wotcher, Harry. I'm to escort you down to the Great Hall. Breakfast will be served during the meeting. I'll meet you outside of the portrait hole."
Harry dressed slowly. He didn't want this moment to come. The reading of Sirius's will was just so…final. When he was finally ready, Tonks was waiting to take him to breakfast.
"Morning, sunshine," she said. "Did you even look at your hair?"
"You're turning into Mrs. Weasley, Tonks," Harry told her with a smirk.
Tonks laughed a little. "Sorry, it's just that the Minister gives me the willies—"
"Wait, the Minister? Scrimgeour?"
"Yes. He's here to read the will."
"Does he always…."
"No. He saw to this one personally because…well, you're famous, Sirius was famous…." She shrugged and continued walking. "Plus I think he wants to meet you."
Harry wasn't used to seeing the Great Hall so empty, even at Christmas. There were only five of them—the Minister, Dumbledore, Kingsley, Tonks and Harry.
Scrimgeour threw a nod in their direction as they walked in. "Are we ready to begin?" At their nods, he drew his wand and pointed it at his briefcase. A few sheets of parchment unfolded, and he put on a pair of thin spectacles. "Mr. Black's will is rather straightforward," he began. "'To my favorite cousin, Andromeda, I leave my Black family crests.' I understand that you will be accepting on behalf of your mother, Nymphadora?"
Scrimgeour continued. "'To my godson, Harry, I leave my estate, including my house, wealth, and possessions. I also leave him my title—heir to the house of Black. In such a case as should arise if he is not of age, I, Sirius Phinneas Black, do hereby emancipate him from the guardianship of his relatives.'"
At this, Dumbldore flinched. The company's eyes turned on him. "I have a slight problem with that," he said.
"Problem or not, it is the will of his former guardian," Scrimgeour said.
Harry couldn't fight the feeling that Scrimgeour was trying to butter him up for something.
"Conditions regarding where he stays can be dealt with later," the Minister said. "However, as of right now, he has inherited all of the late Mr. Black's possessions and titles. Also, as he is now his own man, so to speak, he has officially come into his inheritance left by his parents."
"I've had that for years now," Harry said weakly.
Scrimgeour chuckled. "No, no, boy. You've had your money—money put away for your schooling. Your parents' fortune is far greater. It is kept in another vault—separate from your fortune. And you are now officially the head of the house of Potter as well. From this day forward, you are now Lord Potter-Black." The Minister signed a piece of paper and slid it towards Harry.
"I need some air," Harry said, and bolted for the door.